#S/S 2016

[cherry-flavored-coke]

Model - Miles McMillan

Ph - Jack Pierson

Pub - Purple Magazine, S/S 2016

[soulmaking]

Diane von Furstenberg Spring 2016 hair & makeup

[empressxmachina]

Moncler 2016 Spring/Summer Men's Campaign

I suddenly have an urge to look into getting a vintage (if it's old enough to say that) Moncler jacket. No clue why. 😍😅😩

[lstnrr]

Before its time. Ashish, Spring/Summer 2016

[sl4sh3rsub]

brahms heelshire hcs (nsfw: mdni)

brahms heelshire x reader (AFAB, AMAB, FtM, MtF)

warning: a whole heap. dom/sub dynamics + aspects of the lifestyle (both brahms and reader are switches, reader is a soft dom mostly) AND top/bottom dynamics (both brahms and reader are vers), dubious consent (somnophilia, overstimulation?), use of mommy/daddy/sir towards reader in separate sections, copious mentions of cum + precum (includes cum eating/cum marking/cum jar), fuck malcolm 202x (brahms is territorial), detailed ass stuff: anal, rimming, ass eating (giving and receiving), oral sex (giving), p in v + anal (all unprotected - pls stay safe irl), domestic behaviour, hygiene practices, hickeys, thigh fucking, cockwarming, sex toys, dry humping

a/n: barely edited. is it mummy or mommy?? average aussie moment. i also have a smut fic in my drafts so hmu in the inbox if you wanna see it, i'm not too sure if there's any demand for it lmao DISCLAIMER: i, personally, have not been in properly established dominant/submissive relationship! i have been in those spaces for a while though and am doing my best to not misrepresent lifestyle aspects or write fics promoting extremely unhealthy relationship dynamics - obviously take this with a grain of salt as this fic is about a slasher and is already not a healthy n wholesome starting point. do your own research and stay safe irl folks

order: general hcs first then amab + afab then ftm + mtf, different sections = different content n tried not to repeat much

_ _ _ _ _

general hcs

there's a very clear dom/sub dynamic in your relationship and brahms is definitely a switch (leaning sub) to the core. sometimes he'll be extremely dominant with you during sex, but he'll always revert back to your sweet boy after he makes an effort to clean you up <3

you take turns fucking each other braindead but after your eyes roll into your head, you always have to get him back by making him drool into the pillows for the next couple of hours

brahms insists on starting a quickie and cumming all over your chest and face right before malcolm is scheduled to arrive. he pushes you towards the door as the bell rings and wants to leave you with his drying spend stained all over your skin, sticking your shirt to you in dark splotches - a territorial, possessive nature is awakened in brahms as he watches from the walls while malcolm flushes and realises what is going on. the best bit is, you're fully well aware of what he's doing after the first time it happens, but you entertain his antics for a little while longer to ensure the poor delivery boy gets the message to back off

he also has a small, little, teensy weensy habit of cum marking all of your underwear, pillowcases and even goes as far as making you special little jam sandwiches with a little... salty layer, especially for you

push your thumb against his hole and go to town on his ass and eat him out - put a pillow under his hips and do him a favour by stuffing your underwear in his mouth so he won't lose his voice as he's screaming from pleasure, of course. he'll be so, so obedient for the day after and if you sneak behind him to smack his ass, his knees will buckle slightly and his head whips towards you to meet your mischievous gaze

his sloppy, spit-shined pink hole winks at you after you make out with it, and the sight makes you lose control every single time, especially when he whines. he grinds against your tongue as you fuck him, circling your fingers around the base of his cock to stop him from instantly staining the sheets. his precious cum spurting onto his chest would be a waste and make quite the mess

brahms' knees get weak and he practically melts beneath your touch when you start focusing on his cockhead while sucking him off - slick up your thumb with his sticky precum as you drag it along his slit, lick small circles and drool over it as you blow cool air to see him shiver... genuinely anything to do with his sensitive tip with get him spilling all over your tongue. if he's sitting on the edge of a table or counter while you take his length down your throat, he'll shift one of his thighs over your shoulder and hump into your mouth with shuddering gasps, needing to have your drool coating him completely while his eyes roll back and you hold your breath

brahmsy is obsessed with you caring for him (both sexually and non-sexually), especially with things such as prescribed routines and specific positions for him to follow. of course brahms is reliant on order! he's already accustomed to following the rules and schedules while in the wall, so it's only natural for him to feel safe with you after his previous neglect. he's so obedient and willing for you to make him into your own pliable doll - he's most happy with you guiding him everywhere and often shaving him, practically playing dress up every day. brahms knows that every saturday is when you have your thorough 'inspection' of his body - it's when you decide whether or not to shave his pubes and facial hair in the next week! sometimes he wants to be clean shaven and sometimes he's more than happy to grow out his dark curls, but he secretly adores you methodically shaving around his cock - gently holding it up or to the side to make sure you get everything and your diligent focus solely on his soft shaft makes him flush under your attentive gaze. every single time you adjust your warm grip on his balls to maneuver the blade, his cockhead beads out a tad bit of precum. every single time, without fail. he doesn't even have to be hard for his body to react like that, for his tip to drool with his arousal, but your low chuckles and distracted glances up at his flushed chest make it hard for him to not squirm in your hold :( he was originally the one to suggest the whole shaving thing, as he wasn't the biggest fan of fully cleaning up after cumming everywhere and it tended to dry in his thick bush of curls. after you first tried out hair removal with him, he found it much easier to wipe off his mess and was overall much more convenient.

your clinical precision in keeping your favourite boy upkept each day makes for a soothing routine for you and a chance for brahms to preen and bask in your attention for a solid hour. brahms' favourite part of the daily routine is your softly spoken orders in the morning to tilt his chin back slightly as you run the razor over his jawline and down his neck. the raw vulnerability almost gives him shivers, but good boys never disobey directions to 'stay still' <3

if you manage to wrangle up get brahms into having a prescribed skincare routine, his attentively mumbled recitations of the order for his cleanser, exfoliant and moisturizer drift down the hall while you prepare breakfast for two of you :(

make sure to praise him for washing up properly before you both get intimate! his lifestyle did a 180 after meeting you, so any encouragement to be clean and neat is positive reinforcement for him to stay that way

if brahms feels a little shy or out of it on any given day, he disappears into the walls for some time away - that doesn't mean he won't trail you like a shuffling shadow though, he just might not want to be out in the open for a little. to make him feel loved, kiss the wallpaper of the wall he's behind! the little gasp or squeak of surprise as he undoubtedly turns beet red just a mere inch away from you is a small joy <3

if you feel stressed or wound up, he's fully convinced that some dick will mellow you out just fine! he wants you to be fucked out so your anxious demeanor disappears and you can be happy again - it's for your own good :(

despite how he loves the wholesome nature of your voice going soft while you compliment him, he can't ignore how it makes him swell in his pants. he just loves the warmth in your gaze and the quirk in the edge of your lips as his eyes glaze over

brahms has a cum jar that he keeps in the walls - it has a small lock of your hair set in it from when you slept in the house the first night. if you have to go out early to the local farmer's market or shops, you'll most likely find a small, warm jar hastily and clumsily cleaned on your bedside table - a cooling milky substance makes the glass opaque as a few small dribbles slide down the outer rim. it's from brahmsy, of course. he wants you to always be aware of what your presence and existence does to him

whenever he wants to try and cook for you or you leave your meal out before you eat together, brahms will quickly jack off all over the food. he just wants to make sure you have a bit of his love incorporated in your diet - in case you accidentally swap them, he'll make sure to put it on all the plates available. he doesn't mind at all, he's not picky! although, brahms would much rather eat his cum off of your fingers or out of you, or even from your lips as you make out after you give him head... but whatever has to happen to ensure you have his cum in your tummy, brahmsy will do it

he is a fiend for stealing your clothing, especially your underwear (bonus points if they're not clean) - he wears the dirty garment or simply wraps it around his leaky cock. he begs you to wear the cum-stained underwear while you go out on emergency necessary shopping trips. he just wants to ensure that you have him on your mind the whole time :(

if you refuse, he'll reluctantly compromise with you and make you keep the doll with you to ensure everyone backs off when you're in public. he swears up and down that you'll be so much safer with his 'mini me' attached at your hip

if you need to go into town at any point, make sure to prep brahms a day beforehand with being alright in your absence - have your laundry done ahead of time with your detergent and scent on it to give him and leave written instructions to have a shower using your soap and shampoo to feel safer <3 if you've been doing a project over the past few days, such as painting or long chores together (like repairing a set of chairs or dusting all the room decor), make sure brahms is comfortable with continuing it when you're out - it gives him a distraction and something to do with his hands

puppy dog eyes go both ways in your relationship - he weaponizes it to try and convince you to spend more time skin-to-skin and you use it to make him listen and follow instructions. it also has the added bonus of getting you both riled up

tap twice on your belt buckle or the fly of your pants and his brain will fully turn off. his breath goes whiny and his tongue lolls out at the thought of you using his face for your own selfish needs

brahms is incredibly shy but willing to go against his own timid nature for you. the first time he presented himself to you was something you'll never forget. you had gone to fetch him a glass of water and when you returned to your room, he had confidently stripped naked and was kneeling on the rug, waiting for you with a blush across his chest. you stuttered and diverted your gaze in shock, hurriedly covering your eyes. brahms rose and tutted, shakily tilted your chin towards him and cooing at your bashful reaction. he whispered reassurances in your ear - he wanted you to look at his body, it's yours to do with as you wish. he trusts you wholeheartedly, so command him and he will meet your every need

if brahmsy is being a bit of a brat, tease him for not being on his best behaviour - press soft kisses into his lips but never deepening, purposefully avoiding what he craves most. keep your hand at the base of his throat to gently apply pressure while you slowly draw closer to him, puffs of breath mingling as his whines get more desperate. if brahms lunges to try and smash your lips together, pull back and tighten your grip. watch his eyes roll back with tears pooling from his need

brahms' favourite punishment is being spanked as he's bent over your knee, cock pressed between your thighs. whenever he jolts, he can thrust into you as his pale skin lights up pink and red - both from your hand and his arousal. make sure to smack his balls a little too, he'll cum like a fountain from the stimulation. brahms truly is a sight to behold whenever he is falling apart by your hand

his second favourite punishment is when you fuck yourself on a dildo smaller than his cock. order him into his prescribed kneeling position - palms flat on his thighs, heels propped up under his ass and back straight - to make him watch you bounce up and down on your toy, giving him a show. watch him intently and you'll see rivulets of sweat trail down his chest as his dick bobs and twitches against his stomach at the lack of stimulation, his heated gaze feasting on the sight of your body with rapt attention. the part that makes his chest ache is your slightly needy and unsatisfied expression you try to hide - brahms knows for a fact that the silicone can't fill you the way he can. although he is more than happy with watching you get off mere feet infront of him, the agonizing thrum of his heartbeat in his cock and white crescents dug into his thighs are testament to how this scenario is effecting him. it's different to his voyeuristic endeavors behind the walls - if he had his way, he would've already busted a load onto the drywall and all over his fist at the sight of you

brahms is a massive fan of ruined orgasms - as long as you shush his yelps and whimpers while pressing kisses into his hairline and stroking his thighs, that is. he needs the comfort during and afterwards, but the raw experience altogether gives him an adrenaline rush

he is also a massive fan of cock milking - keep a small crystal bowl under his tip to catch all his milky cum. the visual of the aftermath, combined with the shaking of his thighs, nearly makes his vision black out with pleasure

brahms' movements are clumsy, and his hands shake from nervousness and reverence every time he touches you and he learns over time how to please and obey you perfectly, but he never shakes his little habit of rutting against you whenever you're nearby

the poor guy has years and years of pent-up sexual frustration and yearning - you are the perfect solution to all of his problems, so don't be surprised if he's selfish with his pleasure every so often

if you straddle him while cuddling and put his head to your chest, his brain fully stops working and all of his blood rushes to his cock. however, unlike every other time you're in a sexual position, his constant need to fuck you is delayed temporarily - he's torn between feeling comforted and extremely turned on, resulting in him being rock hard but comfortably lounging while you run your fingers through his hair. kiss him at your own pace, as he has no rush to be buried in your guts - just don't shift on top of him though, he'll snap out of it and remember what position you're both in :<

brahms has a life mission of reminding you that it's play time at all times of the day, attempting to coax you into letting him seek refuge between your thighs, no matter the situation - be it eating your ass from behind while you cook or caging you against the nearest bench while fucking your soft thighs

call him a pervert for watching you behind the walls and he'll turn bright red out of shame. do him a favour and ignore the bulge he fruitlessly tries to cover his huge bulge with trembling hands

he loves to give you head while you wake, your heavy musk is addictive to him. he's definitely not against you returning the favour the next day or fucking yourself on his morning wood after he's been humping you in his sleep. his favourite thing is to blink away his drowsiness while realising he's buried to the hilt in your tight warmth, pinching your nipples and moaning above him. hopefully you have nothing to do that morning, because the moment he cums, he will be immediately knocked out for another hour

brahms makes himself a little leather collar in his workshop - if you go into town and get an engraved pendant for him, he will go feral and not take it off for weeks :(

if he feels a bit worn out after a round or a mind-blowing orgasm, expect to feel his face nuzzle into the crook of your neck - especially when his softening cock still buried deep inside you. he loves to take a little nap in between rounds while you cockwarm him, it's just easier for your heartbeats to match pace :<

while brahms was in the walls, he had a habit of skulking around while other nannies were working - stroking his cock for a couple of minutes before going back to lounging in his bed or returning to shadow his carer, raging boner being unattended for a while before the whole cycle repeated. this results in him wandering around the house - with either his boxers tented or his bottom half nude, for easy access of course. you have to train him into the habit of wearing pants consistently. this little pattern of his also results in him initiating sexual situations with you - such as grinding, making out or dry humping - before disappearing into a wall in the middle of it, only to reappear a short while later to continue the interaction

he treasures anything you buy for him! what do you mean you got him a rose bouquet and a pretty butt plug with a shiny gem? ... a toy? for him?? he just wants to be loved and getting him any type of gift, especially sex toys, is the perfect way to ensure he knows he is loved and cared for. it validates his intense feelings of love and affection towards you

it's very important to remind him about alternating his clothes - the sour stench of sweat and musty air can cling to his older outfits, so getting him adjusted to wearing fresh clothing you picked out is beneficial to you both

brahmsy often helps himself to your bed and bedding, causing you to be pressed snugly to his lean body with the downy comforter wrapped securely around the two of you. if you're away from your room in the early morning, expect to return to a tall, snoring man bundled in all of you bed linen

_ _ _ _ _

amab hcs

brahms calls you daddy relentlessly, both in and out of the bedroom, but his cock jumps whenever you reply! the thrum of his heartbeat is palpable in his veins as his eyes glaze over and his reverent gaze trails over your body.

brahmsy begs you to fuck him whenever he's feeling subby, so be sure to let him bounce on your cock - the real reward is the hickeys you leave on his pale chest while he grinds down and clutches your head close to his chest

slap your cock on his hole :( his neck will be aching slightly from his insistence on maintaining eye contact with you as he begs for you to be inside him

if he has misbehaved and broken vases or trashed the house, make sure to skull-fuck him while he drools and whimpers at being used like a fleshlight. praise him for taking it so well but remind him why he's being punished as you stroke his hair, tip hitting the back of his throat. after he has swallowed your spend, pet his cheek and let him know how good he's been for taking it like the perfect boy he is

brahms is not small in size, not small in any capacity. sometimes his shirts ride up and flash his pale tummy. the trail of dark hair heading south below his waistband teases you every time he helps you with hanging out the clothes. the breeze ruffling your hair does nothing to sway your attention from daydreaming of what lies behind that thin material, below that soft treasure trail that points directly to his pretty cock. brahms is faring no better, as he's fully lost in his head and shooting distracted towards your figure. he's trying to not let his arousal show as he remembers the night before… and no, he is not listening to anything you're saying

never underestimate his drive to please you. he'll go until you're shooting blanks - choking and slobbering all over your length, laving the underside of your cock and toying with your veins. he'll keep bringing you to the edge in record time while he gets drunk off your musk and heady taste - his favourite part of taking you down his throat is the pulsing sensation of your cock as he swallows down your hot cum. he's only trying to please you!!

_ _ _ _ _

afab hcs

brahms calls you mommy relentlessly, both in and out of the bedroom, but his cock jumps whenever you reply! the thrum of his heartbeat is palpable in his veins as his eyes glaze over and his adoring gaze trails over your body

if he has misbehaved and broken vases or trashed the house, make sure to ride his face while he drools and whimpers at being used like a toy. praise him for taking it so well, but remind him why he's being punished as you stroke his hair, grinding down on his tongue. after he has lapped up your arousal, pet his cheek and let him know how good he's been for taking it like the perfect boy he is

brahms daydreams about your lip-gloss, all sticky at the base of his cock as your tight lips suckle around his sensitive tip

he's not small in size - not small in any capacity. whenever he's roaming the estate and you cross paths, the sight of his bulge in those worn grey sweatpants catches you off-guard every single time. the delicious curve of his shaft forms a beautiful indent in the fabric and it makes your mind go deliciously blank for a few moments. don't worry, he's not going to notice your doubletake because brahms is far too invested in staring at your bra strap peeking out from your shirt collar. his brain is full of static the moment he imagines you without your top on, teasing him with your gorgeous fuckin body as you slide down to your knees before him... hm? what were you saying? oh he was not paying attention, you're gonna have to repeat that twice as he wrenches his mind out of the gutter

brahms has a penchant for cumming with his tip pressed against your hole - he loves working you up with his tongue while stroking himself then, while he's about to cum, he pushes himself into you. that tad bit of resistance met against his tip is enough to make his balls tighten and cock spurt hot ropes

never underestimate his drive to please you. every night, his lips are more often than not attached to your sopping pussy, tongue laving your juices as he repeatedly brings you to the edge. he's not gonna stop until you're sticky and numb, until your clit is throbbing in protest - he nudges back the hood to admire your pretty bud, spittle and hot his breath cause you to throb under his tongue. he's obsessed with lapping up the arousal drooling out your cunt. he's only trying to please you!!

_ _ _ _ _

ftm hcs

brahms calls you sir relentlessly, both in and out of the bedroom, but his cock jumps whenever you reply! the thrum of his heartbeat is palpable in his veins as his eyes glaze over and his devoted gaze trails over your body

he loves being able to have the hand of another man to teach him how to indulge in pleasure. the absolute mind-blowing rush he feels whenever he sinks into your tight heat rivals what he heard heaven was like, especially when you moan so loudly as he strokes your cock

whenever brahms is fucking you from behind, he has a habit of digging his fingers into your soft lower tummy, massaging his fingertips back and forth over his cockhead as he's buried balls deep. his eyes glaze over at the added pressure and drool dribbles onto your back as his jaw goes slack

if he has misbehaved and broken vases or trashed the house, make sure to fuck his face while he drools and whimpers at being used like a toy. praise him for taking it so well, but remind him why he's being punished as you stroke his hair, grinding down on his tongue. after he has lapped up your arousal, pet his cheek and let him know how good he's been for taking it like the perfect boy he is

brahms is not small in size - not small in any capacity, so sometimes his shirts ride up and flash his pale tummy. the trail of dark hair heading south below his waistband teases you every time he helps you with hanging out the clothes. the breeze ruffling your hair does nothing to sway your attention from daydreaming of what lies behind that thin material, below that soft treasure trail that points directly to his pretty cock. brahms is faring no better, as he's fully lost in his head and shooting distracted towards your figure. he's trying to not let his arousal show as brahms remembers the night before… and no, he is not listening to anything you're saying

never underestimate his drive to please you. every night, his lips are more often than not attached to your sopping tcock, tongue laving your juices as he repeatedly brings you to the edge. he's not gonna stop until you're sticky and numb, until your dick is throbbing in protest - he nudges back the hood to admire your pretty length, spittle and hot his breath cause you to throb under his tongue. he's obsessed with lapping up the arousal drooling out your boycunt. he's only trying to please you!!

_ _ _ _ _

mtf hcs

brahms calls you mommy relentlessly, both in and out of the bedroom, but his cock jumps whenever you reply! the thrum of his heartbeat is palpable in his veins as his eyes glaze over and his adoring gaze trails over your body

imagine his surprise when the pretty, sweet nanny has a bulge under her skirt just like his! his brain short-circuits when he realises you have similar bodies - he's able to transfer his knowledge of pleasure across to you. when he discovers what makes you tick, he practices on himself to get used to it and to hone his technique

he'll sew you a special set of lingerie, with hair bows to match. brahms is a craftsman at heart and nothing makes his heart swell more than watching you showcase his work. he'll fuck you in front of all the mirrors in the house - he wants to see you absolutely fall apart while you display his handiwork. brahmsy truly believes you have the beauty of an angel, that the greatest honour is to have you wear his creation proudly :(

if he has misbehaved and broken vases or trashed the house, make sure to skull-fuck him while he drools and whimpers at being used like a fleshlight. praise him for taking it so well, but remind him why he's being punished as you stroke his hair, tip hitting the back of his throat. after he has swallowed your spend, pet his cheek and let him know how good he's been for taking it like the perfect boy he is

he's not small in size - not small in any capacity. whenever he's roaming the estate and you cross paths outside, the sight of his bulge in those worn grey sweatpants catches you off-guard every single time. the delicious curve of his shaft forms a beautiful indent in the fabric and it makes your mind go deliciously blank for a few moments. don't worry, he's not going to notice your doubletake because brahms is far too invested in staring at your hard nipples making soft peaks in your shirt. his brain is full of static the moment he imagines you without your top on, teasing him with your gorgeous fuckin body as you slide down to your knees before him… hm? what were you saying? oh he was not paying attention, you're gonna have to repeat that twice as he wrenches his mind out of the gutter

never underestimate his drive to please you. he'll go until you're shooting blanks - choking and slobbering all over your length, laving the underside of your girlcock and toying with your veins. he'll keep bringing you to the edge in record time while he gets drunk off your musk and heady taste - his favourite part of taking you down his throat is the pulsing sensation as he swallows down your hot arousal. he's only trying to please you!!

_ _ _ _ _

fuck greta and by extension, fuck malcolm ig. this took a hot minute tbh. am cooking up some more stuff but might take a while.

thanks for reading. lmk if you liked it. if i got anything wrong, don't hesitate to tell me.

stay safe.

[yorshie]

[annanicolesmxth]

[creepswrites]

Could u write some headcanons about bubba, brahms, and billy lenz with a chubby touch starved afab gn reader?

Please and ty :) - deadcat

YEAHHH i'm so here for that hell yeah >:D billy lenz is my fav to write and it shows...

SLASHERS w/ GN S/O WHO IS CHUBBY AND TOUCH STARVED

BUBBA SAWYER

Also being chubby himself, obviously he doesn't care about your weight whatsoever

Anyone who does make nasty comments, he'll gladly run through with his chainsaw

His brothers know better than to make a comment about you anyways

He likes spending time cuddling in bed, running his hands up your thighs and sides and just being Present with you

Whenever possible, you two are holding hands or cuddling together

You'll cup his face in your hands and he just melts immediately

He loveloveloves kissing you, sometimes he just takes a pause in whatever he's doing to fulfill that need

Even if he's in the middle of killing someone...

BRAHMS HEELSHIRE

Your chubbiness doesn't deter him whatsoever

He's somehow more touch starved then you even, constantly holding your hand or sitting so you two are touching

Even when you're mad at him. He can't help but reach for you and pull you in for a hug

When you two are going to sleep he can't NOT be touching you

He wants you against his chest or with an arm over your waist or SOMETHING

Whenever you touch him, its like his skin erupts in shudders

It's like he's addicted... he can never have enough of you

Whenever he kisses you, it feels like he's a dying man who finally found an oasis...

BILLY LENZ

Billy could care less about you being chubby, its just a part of who you are

Doesn't mean he stops with piggy comments but he does that with everyone, not specific to you

(He does try and tone it down if it really upsets you though)

He digs his fingers into you though, be it your stomach or thighs, he likes how squishy you are

Touch is something Billy is picky about though so it'll have to be on his terms for the most part

But when he does feel up for cuddling, he'll lay on your chest and let you pet his hair like a cat

He bites you a lot. Its just how he shows affection sometimes, especially when he doesn't want to touch or be touched

Though he always makes sure to kiss the bite marks afterwards...

[sinfullsenses]

Melanie before fame </3

[bebx]

David Howard Thornton and Catherine Corcoran as Art the Clown and Dawn Emerson in Terrifier

Written and directed by Damien Leone

[the-crow-cryptids-domain]

Gemcrab fishing with the boys

This piece+fake journal page are from a really specific/personal Gravity Falls Billford AU I and a long-time friend @star-made-knight have RPed since about 2016, where, the short of it is that his variant of Bill is for the most part more sympathetic than canon Bill, and also ends up preferring a human form after coming back post-Weirdmageddon (With a LOT more nuance and history within this universe than I can probably put here from over the years)

This scene especially was a tipping point, where Ford finally, FINALLY decided to trust Bill a little more after Bill's been kind of living in the woods like a feral hobo. Ironically, Mabel was the first one to really give Bill a chance, seconded by Stan

The Dimension/AU this occurs in is designated S-411!

[cherry-flavored-coke]

Model - Miles McMillan

Ph - Jack Pierson

Pub - Purple Magazine, S/S 2016

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

[avintmich]

Thank you for such sweet words.... You must like this @hao-ming-8

(just like you said, cute and sexy 💅 maybe...)

[ken-dom]

March Magic

Holland March x afab!reader

4k words

∘₊✧ Summary: Three times Holland March couldn't get it up, and one time he could.

∘₊✧ Authors’s notes: I've missed Holland, but upon a rewatch of The Nice Guys, he crashed my doors down and proceeded to experience erectile dysfunction in my living room so. Here you have it. Thank you to the wonderful K for beta reading and being the best as usual!! The warnings are pretty wild on this one so... strap in.

∘₊✧ Warnings/content: NSFW, erectile dysfunction, crying, passing out, smoking, oral sex, shotgun kissing (both the pussy and the mouth), mention of bee mating rituals/bee death, hand job, blow job, premature ejaculation, Holland having hyperspermia as usual, kind of established relationship, general wet cat pathetic energy

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

‘Mmh- I uh- I’ll be right back,’ Holland mumbled against your kiss-swollen lips, ‘wait there- don’t move-’

His body clumsily moved off the bed until he was stood, stooped over you with lips still attached to yours until you dropped back onto the bed and finally freed him.

‘Don’t be too long, sexy,’ you winked at him as he slinked off toward his adjoining bathroom, and he huffed a faux coy laugh.

What the fuck did he need to go to the bathroom for at this late stage? Maybe it’s where he keeps the condoms, you thought, relaxing against his luxuriously soft pillows. Makes sense, he probably hasn’t used one for a while, what would be the use of keeping them by the bed?

Meanwhile, Holland let out a long, steadying exhale. You hadn’t noticed. Jesus. How he’d got this far without you trying to grope him and realising what was going on (or not going on), he’d no idea, but he’d managed to distract you long enough by pressing his thigh between your legs while kissing you sloppily and needily, and you seemed to drink it up, moaning into his mouth and writhing against him.

Hell, he could feel your heat through his trousers and wondered with a smirk whether he’d need to get this suit dry cleaned and make up an excuse about the mysterious wet patch just above the knee.

Your fingers in his hair were sending shivers down his spine, and heat was pooling in his lower belly, and you kept breathing his name, and it was all so incredibly fucking hot, but for reasons he didn’t want to acknowledge, his dick just wouldn’t respond.

He slipped into the bathroom and clicked the door shut behind him, collapsing against it and closing his eyes. He didn’t bother to switch on the light; he could feel the room spinning, he didn’t need to see it too.

His hand slid down over his flaccid cock, and for a moment, he thought, Pathetic, but then he tried to focus his thoughts back to you. Back to the way your body felt pressed against his, the way you uttered his name like a desperate, horny prayer, how good you’d feel when he finally managed to get it up and bury himself inside you.

He palmed himself over his trousers halfheartedly, knowing deep down it was a lost cause, and with his voice lower than a whisper, he uttered a shaky, ‘March, March, he’s our man! If he can’t do it, no one can. Maaaarch!’

Not even a twitch.

He slid down to the floor and sobbed, banging his head back against the door, and the darkened room turned suddenly darker.

Until the morning, when he found you asleep on the bed, clutching his pillow in lieu of the man himself.

****

‘Wanna taste you-’ Holland slurred against your throat. He wished he could smell you, smell the perfume he could taste, bitter against his tongue, but at least he could bury his face between your thighs and intoxicate himself in you that way.

There was also the small problem of his cock not playing ball again, despite tearing your clothes off, his hands exploring every inch of you, despite you telling him you needed him in that sultry, seductive voice that drove him wild.

He wasn’t going to leave you dissatisfied and alone again, no matter how far gone he was. Not this time. Come on, March.

He felt you nod, heard the desperation in your whine of agreement, and slipped lower, realising as he gripped your thighs to spread them apart that he still had an unlit cigarette propped between his fingers from when you’d kissed him while trying to light said cigarette. Who could blame you for getting distracted by those gorgeous, sparklingly sad eyes and pressing your lips to his instead?

‘Oh shit- give me a second-’ he mumbled, more to himself than to you, but as he moved to drop the cigarette, you grabbed and held his hands firmly against your thighs to stop him moving it away. When he looked up at you, questioning, you reached for the lighter on the nightstand and lit it for him.

‘Carry on,’ you smirked.

Holland swallowed hard. That was the hottest thing you’d ever done. Well, the second hottest, besides actually letting him eat you out whilst smoking, which was about to take first place.

‘Jesus…’

He took a long drag, partly a need, since he hadn’t smoked in a hot fifteen minutes, partly a show for you. He relished in the way you bit your lip as you watched his eyes sliding shut at the brief satisfaction at the nicotine hit. He exhaled slowly too, relishing in it as though it were giving him the pleasure he should be feeling from you.

Fuck. He shouldn't be focusing on that right now. He dragged a soft fingertip through your slick folds and felt you shudder. Taking another drag, he exhaled right at the moment he dove down to wrap his lips around your swollen clit, smoke spreading a tingling warmth around your exposed core.

Somewhere between lapping at your folds and devouring your clit, Holland realised he’d neglected his cigarette and the consequences could be… fuck, stop thinking- just-

Feeling your thighs clench around him, he half-reluctantly pulled back for another drag, and to flick some loose ash into the ashtray by the bed, and you whined in protest, already so close you could feel your bundle of nerves throbbing in the absence of his tongue. Holland sure worked fast, but he was easily distracted, too, and you couldn’t even blame him for this since this was technically your idea.

This time, as he exhaled, his tongue dipped inside, the smoke hot against your cooling slick as it swirled back out of your entrance and up around your folds, and, admiring the combination for moment, Holland licked a stripe right up to your clit to start right back where he’d left off.

He carefully slid a finger inside this time, too, surprisingly delicate in his movements as he beckoned, stroking that spot inside you that made your toes curl so precisely as his mouth took care of the rest.

Jesus, he sure knows his way around down there- 

‘Fuck- f-fuck- Holland-!’

Your climax was so close you could practically taste it, and so could he, but there was the small complication of his cigarette still burning by your thigh.

Hips rolling to rut against his tongue as he lapped eagerly, fingerfucking you with enthusiastic vigour, your back arched off the bed and your fingers found their way into his messy sun-kissed hair, and just as your breath turned ragged, he pulled away again for another nicotine hit.

Not only did he leave you exposed to the cold air without his mouth covering you, but his finger apparently couldn’t continue to fuck into you while he was focussing on the cigarette, either. He’d never been great at multitasking and obviously the Camel was just too delicious to try. Fucking hell.

‘Tease,’ you groaned weakly, and Holland, sobering slightly (only very slightly, and very, very briefly) finally realised what this was doing to you and shoved the end of the cigarette into the ashtray, diving back down to finish the job properly, almost choking on the combination of smoke and pussy in the process. God, it tasted incredible together and he was so into it that it took no time at all for you to get that simmering feeling right back.

He felt your orgasm approach, and then shake through your body, felt you turn limp after the high subsided, and carried on for a while, softer and slower, until your thighs were clamping around his head again with oversensitivity and he ate you like a man possessed once again.

Just as your second orgasm approached, Holland seemed to slow, so you jerked your hips to spur him on, but suddenly he felt heavier too, and when you called his name in frustration, he didn’t answer.

You guessed he’d finally passed out, and propped yourself up on your elbows. You inadvertently slid your folds over his handsome nose as you manoeuvred, gasping at the sensation which, although subtle, tipped you over the edge. Your breath caught and your blood boiled and every fibre of you trembled with pleasure you hadn’t expected. 

His finger, although still, was still firmly thrust inside you and your walls clenched hard around it as you slapped a hand over your mouth to keep from yelling out and waking him.

Jesus… I’m gonna have to ride that nose for real, you mused when your thoughts turned coherent again, and then you began the process of sliding out from beneath him and dragging his messy, half-dressed form further up the bed and onto his pillow for some rest.

You cleaned yourself up before sinking into bed beside him to sleep, but you left his moustache soaked with your essence. You knew it would drive him wild in the morning, and maybe it would be the push he needed to finally chase his own pleasure.

****

It wasn’t.

He woke to you suckling at his neck, your arm thrown around his waist from behind, fingers toying with the waistband of his trousers.

His head was pounding when he woke, and with just one eye half open, he turned into you, a big dumb smile pulling at his lips.

His lips felt dry so without even thinking he licked them, tasting you immediately and groaning.

‘You taste incredible, you know that?’ he croaked, your fingers now working on the button of his fly.

Holland had absolutely no recollection of how last night ended. He could taste you, sure, but he barely remembered how he’d ended up in bed with you this time. He was a detective after all, though, and what kind of lousy detective would wake up with their lover wrapped around them, fingers teasing at their belly, their taste fresh on his lips, and not put together that he must have spent some time downtown? 

And you did taste delicious. Fuck, he really wished he could smell you.

He wanted you. He needed you. Since the moment you’d laid eyes on one another. And right now, he was so thankful to wake up with you already trying to satisfy him despite what a mess he probably looked. And yet, as usual, he couldn’t perform. 

‘Wait-’ he breathed, hand flying down to wrap around your wrist and gently ease you out of his trousers before you actually felt how soft he was.

‘What’s wrong, baby?’

Holland’s eyes snapped shut, his hand dropping yours to press his fingers into his eyelids instead.

He knew this would be it. 

‘I- I can’t-’ he tried, gesturing vaguely to his cock. ‘It’s not your fault. I just- I can’t-’

He cut himself off with a dramatic, choked out sob, and scrambled for a cigarette on the nightstand. There was only an empty packet and he dropped himself back onto the bed, whimpering, shoulders shaking as tears began to roll down his cheeks.

‘Fuck! I’m pathetic, I’m-’

He felt the mattress bounce as you moved away and whimpered, knowing he’d likely never see you again.

He did, though. A split second later when you sat cross legged beside him and popped a cigarette between his lips, offering a light, which he gratefully accepted.

The first inhale relaxed him more than he could comprehend, and he shuffled up to sit against the headboard, trying to steady his breathing.

‘Thank you,’ he said huskily. He meant it as gratitude for not leaving, but you handing him a cigarette masked thay enough for him not to feel more pathetic than he already did.

You placed a hand on his thigh. It wasn’t suggestive of anything other than comfort, and he appreciated that.

‘Take your time, ok?’

His brow furrowed, but he nodded anyway. Why would you wait for him?

‘Besides, when you eat me out like that, I’m hardly in a rush,’ you smiled, playfully.

Holland managed a small smile at that too.

‘That’s the March Magic,’ he muttered.

‘Oh, so that’s what you call it?’

‘Call what?’

‘Shotgun kissing my-’ you pointed between your legs.

‘I did what?!’

‘You don’t remember? Jesus. It was good, anyway. You’re good, March. And I’m sure when you’re ready, your cock will be just as delicious.’ 

He turned weak at your choice of words, turning temporarily dizzy as you absentmindedly licked your lips.

‘Wanna kiss me? Just kissing. Nothing else this time, ok?’

He whined and nodded again, leaning forward to enjoy the most tender kiss he could remember since- well. For a while.

You could taste yourself on him, but not for long as your mouth filled with his second hand smoke and you choked a little. You kept your lips pressed to his, though, tongues sliding together sweetly, with no expectations beyond this simple affection.

You felt your own cheeks grow damp and knew he was crying again. But you didn’t stop. He needed this, you realised, and you were more than willing to give him whatever he needed right now.

‘March,’ you whispered when you eventually pulled back for breath.

‘Mmh?’

‘How about you get yourself cleaned up while I run out to grab us some lunch? I can run you a bath?’

‘Yeah,’ he sighed, shaking his head in disbelief. ‘Yeah that would be really fucking good actually.’

****

‘That one’s a keeper.’

‘Huh?’ March was trying to get to sleep, but his mind was whirring with thoughts of how you’d cared for him today.

How you’d washed his hair after he sunk into the warm water, covered by bubbles, laid him some fresh clothes out for him, shared a nice lunch together, and spent the afternoon watching a movie and laughing and kissing. 

He hadn’t thought about his little problem all night, and you were to thank for that. 

He was pretty sure he was falling in love actually, and his thoughts were so occupied with the joy and despair that came along with that old, familiar feeling reigniting inside him, that he couldn’t fall asleep. The fact that he’d barely drank a thing today probably contributed to that too.

Maybe he should-

‘Don’t even think about it.’

That voice again. Who the fuck-

Holland turned, frowning to find his old pal, Bumble wedged right between you and him, hogging the covers.

‘Bumble. What do you want?’

Bumble took a long drag of his cigarette. 

‘Listen, I’m telling you — that one’s a keeper.’

‘Yeah, that’s what I’ve been stuck on. You really think so?’

‘You can’t even fuck and you’ve got room service and cigarettes being lit for you and kisses on tap. Yeah I think so.’

‘That’s not why I lov- I mean-’

Bumble chuckled. Holland frowned.

‘You worked the March Magic, huh?’

‘How do you know about- what? No. I mean. I- yeah but that’s not-’

‘Look, March, when killer bees fuck, the bee with the dick usually dies. You get to cum and live to tell the tale! You’ll be fine. You just gotta relax.’

Holland felt hazy. This was almost too much information to take in. But he remembered the relaxing part. ‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah. Just take it easy. Your dick’ll be hard in no time. Night.’ 

‘Night, Bumble. Thanks for the pep talk.’

Holland yawned, and Bumble was gone.

****

Holland shifted in the warmth of the morning light. Something was off.

He stretched his legs and rolled onto his back to look at you, see if you were awake yet, see if he could figure out why he felt kind of… weird.

You were sleeping soundly beside him, your arm still draped over his middle beneath the sheets. Nothing unusual there, over the last couple of months you’d come to stay over with him more nights than not when he wasn’t working a case, and even then he’d sometimes find you in his bed when he returned home, and thanks to this he’d actually slept in his bed instead of finding a spot somewhere he felt safe. You’d made bed safe. You’d made him feel safe.

He smiled at the thought, and tried to shift his focus onto this feeling he was trying to place. It must be early – he’d not woken up before 10am for as long as he could remember and the clock on the dresser said 08:07.

He propped himself up to take a look around the room and actually screamed when he saw the huge tent formed in the sheets between his legs.

Jaw dropping, Holland fell back onto his pillow, muttering wildly, ‘Am I dreaming? Jesus, am I actually hard? Is this real?!’ 

He poised his thumb and forefinger over his other forearm and laughed, loudly and heartily, pinching his arm so hard he hurt himself and let out a little yelp mid giggle. It was real! He was awake, and he was hard.

Head spinning, Holland called your name in an excited whisper at first, turning himself to lay face to face with you and careful not to accidentally prod you with his raging hard on. What a nice problem to have to worry about! He let out a little, ‘Ha!’ at the thought.

He called your name again, louder this time, gently gripping your shoulder in sheer excitement. He hadn’t even considered yet that you’d want to actually do anything with his boner. He was just so thrilled that his dick still worked, he wanted to share it with the whole world. There was even a fleeting moment that he considered calling Healy, but he shook the thought from his head and tried to focus.

When your eyes blinked open, although taken aback that he was awake before you, you automatically smiled at his gleeful face and leant forward to kiss him, but in the buzz of excitement, he completely missed his cue and rolled away to demonstrate the tent in the sheets once again.

‘Look! It works! Ha! It really works!’

‘Jesus…’ you breathed, propping yourself up to get a good look at the size of him. ‘Holland… that’s so great, baby, I knew you could do it!’

‘It’s all thanks to Bumble!’ he smiled like an idiot. You didn’t ask.

Giddy, you sang out his little mantra; ‘March, March, he’s our man! If he can’t do it no one can! Maaaarch-mmh!’

His lips joined with yours then, cutting you off until he pulled back to get another look at the magnificent sight of his dick in full working order.

‘Holland…’ you started, and he hummed in your direction. ‘May I… touch you?’

All of the breath seemed to exit his body like a juice box being crushed underfoot. He wheezed out a, ‘Yes- please!’ followed by a slightly more coherent, ‘Touch- lick- anything. Go nuts!’

You slipped your hand back to his stomach, gradually pushing lower until you reached the waistband of his pyjamas (another new development; he wasn’t sleeping in his suits nearly as much these days).

‘Holland, are you sure you’re ready?’

‘I’ve been ready for months,’ he sighed, ‘it’s just a shame my schwanz has taken this long to catch up. Listen, I-’

‘It’s alright,’ you stopped him, feeling his body tense up, knowing where his thoughts were going. ‘I know it might be… quick. I don’t mind. Actually it’s kind of hot…’

Holland relaxed. Jesus, why did you have to be so understanding – and in such a sexy way? It was jarring. It felt nice. It made him fall for you all the more, and knew then that Bumble had been right about you. Holland had no intention of losing you.

Your fingers ghosted over his tip, and your palm slid down to feel out the length of him before you wrapped your fingers carefully around the base and pumped slowly. You planned to learn his body like he was learning yours, to memorise every response your touch elicited, know every trick in the book to drive him wild.

You glanced up from the hypnotising view of your hand stroking him beneath the sheets to see his face already slack with pleasure, mouth agape and eyes shut in bliss. Jesus, he was receptive. Delicious.

You moved your hand up to swipe your thumb over the tip, and discovered that not only did it cause his hips to buck, but there was already a thick bead of precum waiting for you there. 

He was moaning almost nonstop at this point. Your fist moved faster and Holland began to writhe. Actually writhe beneath you – legs trembling, toes curling, didn’t have a clue what to do with his limbs, or his hands; other than try and grasp at the bedding.

‘Jesus! F-fuck! Oh!’ he cried, loud and desperate, and you were so tempted to bring him off like this, to pump him furiously until he stained the sheets, but equally you craved more.

You wouldn’t ever say this to him, but the thought wouldn’t leave you alone; what if he couldn’t get it up again for a good couple of months and you’d passed up the chance to taste him when it was given so beautifully to you? No. You had to grasp this opportunity with both hands. Or, as the case may be, with one hand and your mouth.

Keeping your movements steady, you shuffled down, pushing the covers lower, too, and got your first proper look at his hard cock. It was quite the sight; as long and thick as it felt, handsome, steadily leaking – fit to burst actually. 

You wasted no more time, carefully kissing his tip first, slowing your hand a little to test the waters without overwhelming him, and he whimpered so prettily you almost lost composure.

As your lips wrapped around his tip and you sank down lower, sucking, swirling your tongue, keeping your hand pumping fast where he wouldn’t fit, you suddenly felt bitter heat coating your tongue.

Not just coating your tongue, filling your mouth. You did your best to keep going, to suck and lap and massage him through his peak, but it wasn’t just his drawn out screech of pleasure that was distracting you, it was the amount of cum he was still spilling all the while. Despite swallowing down what you could of the never ending hot rope, choking a little on the sheer volume, it still dribbled out past your lips, dripping onto his legs and stomach and the surrounding sheets that he was balling into tight fists.

When you emerged from the mess to crawl up over him and check he was doing ok, you were faced with the most blissed out, fucked out, sated, dumb smile you’d ever seen on his handsome face. He’s never looked more peaceful, and, as much as your core was throbbing after what you’d just done, you wanted more than anything to let him rest.

So you did. You settled on his chest, not caring about the stickiness drying between your flush bodies or around your lips, and listened to his heart, steady in his chest.

‘Fuck,’ he whispered after a long pause. ‘That was- fuck…’

You smiled to yourself, sure that after so long, anything he could get would have felt incredible, but you still took a little pride in the fact that you were the one to experience it with him.

‘You want me to make breakfast?’ you offered gently.

‘I want you to be my breakfast, does that count?’ he smirked.

‘No, Holland, I just want you to enjoy the moment. Don’t worry about me.’

‘Oh, I’m not worried.’

Holland shifted beneath you and you felt the beginnings of another erection stiffening his cock.

Your eyes widened as his opened, and your gazes locked.

‘You fixed it.’

‘Holland, please,’ you laughed. ‘I did not fix your dick.’

‘Of course you did, it’s the only explanation! Anyway, look, do you want to fix its current problem?’ His hips thrust upwards to nudge his now rock hard cock against your thigh to make sure you felt it.

‘Holland, if you’re not fucking me the March way within the next minute, I’m out of here.’

He laughed again and it occurred to you that you’d never spoken to him this early, or heard him laugh so much in a morning.

‘The March way?’ he raised an amused eyebrow at you.

‘Yeah.’

‘What’s that?’

‘I’m hoping you’re about to show me.’

And show you, he most certainly did.

[noirleo]

confessions pt. 2

(bayverse & reader are all adults <3)

leonardo

leonardo has saved the city of new york—and the world, by association, because what kind of world would be left without his precious city—twice before even entering adulthood. since the age of fifteen he’s saved countless lives and can tell stories that would leave even the most seasoned police officers lying awake at night.

nothing in his repertoire of harrowing life experiences has prepared him for the gut-wrenching experience of catching feelings for his best friend.

leo had been the last of the brothers to trust you after mikey had cheerily, thoughtlessly, brought you unannounced to the lair one night. his decision had led to several hours in the hashi after you’d left, but leo couldn’t stop you from coming back. eventually, reluctant trust transformed into a friendship, easygoing and natural in a way that he didn’t know friendships could be.

when you first met leo, he could count everything he cared about in the world on one hand—his family, his training, and his city, in that order. the world he lived in was small, but it was his. his to understand, to care for and protect. he would never have dreamed of describing himself as lonely until meeting you. how infuriating, then, was your insistence on worming your way into that shadow-hidden world, cracking it wide open and exposing that loneliness to the sunlight of your smile.

so here he was, laying on the floor of his own bedroom, hugging a pillow while you painted gentle brush strokes across his shell.

you’d been begging him to let you paint his shell for ages, promising not to listening to any of mikey’s explicit suggestions of what to paint. after years of experience telling his brother’s ‘no’, he’d thought he was immune to pouting.

evidently not.

“you still awake?” you paused for a moment, looking up from your work to check on him, and received a muffled hum in response from where leo’s face was buried into the crook of his elbow. you were kneeling at his side, one hand on his shell to support your weight as you focused on the task at hand.

for the first several minutes, his entire body had been tensed up. leo was never more aware of his hulking size and strength than when he was next to you. however, he had quickly melted into your touch, hypnotized by the swirling brush strokes and comfortable silence in the room.

how long had he been laying here? seconds, hours, years—leo had no idea, and he didn’t care. nirvana was definitely a real thing, he decided, and he’d found it under your gentle touch against his shell.

“alright, i’m finished,” your voice broke through his thoughts and he lifted his head to look at you. paint bottles and cups of water surrounded where you were kneeling at his side, and were all being whisked away to the side.

“wait, wait, wait, don’t move yet—it still has to dry,” you urged him as he began to lift himself up on his elbows. he huffed in response, letting his face hit the pillow he had been laying on unceremoniously, and side-eyed you.

“i didn’t realize this would be an all-day event, or i would have brought some entertainment,” he mumbled dryly. you laid on the ground next to him, arms folded under the back of your head, and looked over to grin at him. he tried to ignore the crackle of electricity under his skin as your arm grazed his, your faces just inches away from each other.

“i’m pretty sure i’m all the entertainment you need, actually,” you replied cheekily, making him smile and roll his eyes.

his gaze lingered on you just a moment too long. it had taken him ages to slow down his racing heartbeat when you had first begun, and now it threatened to beat out of his chest again as he listened to you begin to delve into your creative thought process, careful not to give away all of the details of your work before he could see it for himself. he watched the corners of your eyes crinkle, the furrow of your brow and the way your fingers traced the air as you always did when you started talking about the things you love. where leo was collected and calculated, you were animated and colorful. all of the best parts of being alive begin and end behind your eyes, he thought to himself.

“i think it should be good now,” you decided, leaning up on one elbow to gingerly touch the paint on his shell before nodding, a look of excitement and nervousness crossing your face as you crouched down and extended your hands. “wanna take a look?”

he accepted, taking your small hands in his, rose to his feet and walked over to the mirror propped up against the wall.

leo stood in awe of the swirl of colors painted across the back of his shell. a city skyline in shades of blues and purples was splashed against a dark sky, and he could make out four small figures standing side by side on a rooftop in familiar colors.

“it’s new york,” he breathed, eyebrow ridges raised as he craned his neck, trying to see it more clearly in the mirror.

“you like it?” you asked in a hopeful voice, swaying in place as one hand tapped your cheek in anticipation.

“it’s fine,” he said finally, earning a smack on his bicep from you. he turned to you, grinning ear to ear. “it’s amazing. you’re amazing. the guys are gonna be so jealous.”

he turned down to look at you, towering over you as you beamed that sunshine smile at the praise. amused, he noticed a splatter of bright blue on your cheek and gently wiped it away with his thumb. had he imagined the scarlet blush of your cheeks as you turned your eyes away from him?

did it matter?

“c’mon, i wanna go show the others,” you decided, turning past him towards his bedroom door. without thinking, his hand shot out of its own volition to grab yours. you froze at the large hand gently holding your wrist, rooting you to the spot.

“wait, just…wait,” leo rasped, immediately ashamed at the edge of desperation creeping into his voice. you turned to face him, brow furrowed slightly in curiosity. that familiar stinging that he felt every time you left the lair bubbled up in his chest. he didn’t want to go back to the others and have to see them crowd around you, begging you to do the same for them. for once, just once, he wanted a moment that he didn’t have to share with his brothers. he wanted something to just be his.

he wanted that something to be you.

he wasn’t thinking properly, he knew it, but he never really was thinking clearly around you.

you began to ask if he was okay, your lips forming around the words, but never made it to the end of the sentence as his hands reached up to your face, cradling you in his hands. your eyes widened a little at the touch, but you made no effort to pull away.

“leo?”

the sound of his name rolled off of your tongue so easily, so effortlessly breaking down his usual barriers of self discipline that dictated his every waking moment, and finally he released himself to his impulses as he leaned down to kiss you.

you tensed up in surprise the moment his lips touched yours, and he pulled away as quickly as it began. his fearful thoughts began to race, screaming at him for being so selfish. the one friend he’d ever made for himself, and he’d ruined it.

“i—shit, i’m sorry. i don’t know why i…”

his regretful rambling was stopped midsentence by your hand on his plastron, his chest heaving as your gaze followed a trail from his eyes to his lips.

“leo. shut up.”

it was his turn to be surprised as you stood on your toes, pressing your lips against his.

he poured all of his feelings, the long months of pining and languishing over his certainly-unrequited feelings into the kiss, grabbing you by the waist with one arm and moving the other to quietly shut the door again.

the others could wait a little longer.