#his legs were SPREAD while driving that jeep

[whirlpool-blogs]

bucky accidentally misheard “we’re going to war” as “we’re going to whore” and proceeded to spend his entire deployment looking as slutty as possible in his cinched dress uniform and flashy tan-and-white sheepskin and thotty little mustache. he never stopped to seek clarification on this statement

[hans-wh0re]

You could never resist the tempting opportunity to tease and taunt Chan with your insatiable lust whenever possible. Even something as simple as going for an impromptu nature drive together had your perverted mind racing with naughty ideas.

"Hey babe,m gonna pull off up here," Chan murmured in that deep baritone that never failed to make your thighs clench. He nodded toward a secluded fork in the deserted country road you'd been winding through, tucked away under a dreamy canopy of budding trees.

You bit your lip to suppress a smirk as Chan slowly steered his sleek black Jeep off the main path and rumbled over the grassy embankment into a small clearing framed by twisted oaks and wildflowers waving lazily in the breeze. This looked like the perfect private little hideaway for all sorts of indecent shenanigans.

As soon as he killed the engine, Chan swiveled in the driver's seat to fix you with a sultry gaze, the corner of his plump mouth kicked up in a sexy half-smirk. He knew that mischievous glint in your eyes all too well - you were already plotting some sort of erotic surprise.

"So what naughty thoughts are running through that dirty little head of yours, princess?" He rasped in a gravelly tone, large hand drifting across the center console to palm your bare thigh with a possessive squeeze. "You've been squirming around and giving me fuck-me eyes ever since we hit the road."

A shameless giggle bubbled up in your chest at Chan's playfully blunt assessment. You always did get unbelievably riled up whenever he pulled out his dominant bedroom voice. Feigning innocence, you parted your legs wider in a bold invitation while batting your lashes coyly.

"Who, me? I don't know what you're talking about…unless you were the one picturing me on my knees choking on your big dick in the woods like a filthy little slut?"

Chan's eyes flashed warningly at your brazenly dirty mouth, an almost feral growl rumbling up from his chest. In one smooth movement, he unclicked his seatbelt and lunged across the center divide to capture your lips in a rough, messy kiss.

"Such a bad girl, trying to rile me up," he groaned against your mouth between bruising smashes of his full lips. His tongue plunged past your parted lips greedily, chasing the sweet taste of you as his broad palms roamed over your body with shameless gropes. "You know how quickly you can get me riled up and ready to rail you into next week."

Whimpering into the deliciously filthy liplock, you rutted your hips up to grind your dewy slit against the rapidly forming bulge in Chan's jeans. His thick cock throbbed and strained against the unforgiving denim, leaving a tempting damp patch for you to press into.

"Mmm, feels like someone's excited to play too," you purred sultrily once he finally released your mouth with a final nip at your plump lower lip.

Chan let out a low chuckle that bordered on a growl, shifting backwards to blatantly palm and adjust his confined erection through the front of his pants. "Can't say I mind you teasing me like a needy little cockslut. In fact, I'd love to see those pretty lips wrapped around my dick, slobbering all over it right here in the front seat."

Your mouth practically watered at the tantalizing visual of bracing yourself in the cramped footwell and bobbing up and down on Chan's delicious length, his strong fingers tangled in your hair to guide your rhythm. With a needy whine, you immediately scrambled between his spread thighs to fumble with his belt buckle and zipper.

"Anything to make you happy, daddy," you purred, nuzzling your cheek against the impressive hard line straining against the front of his boxer briefs. The heady musk of Chan's arousal made your head swim and your cunt gush fresh dampness to soak the flimsy cotton.

With a theatrical swirl of your tongue, you mouthed a torturously slow trail along the shaft outlined beneath the soft fabric, savoring the taste of his salty precum already beading at the tip. Chan released a guttural moan, his hips twitching upwards instinctively to chase the hot suction of your lips. By the time you finally tugged his length free, his cock sprang out flushed, engorged, and glistening at the swollen head - undeniably aching to be buried in your velvety heat.

"Shit, look how fucking thick and pretty it is," you practically purred, wrapping one hand around the girthy base to stroke him from root to tip with teasing kitten licks following your snug fist. "Not sure I deserve such a nice treat…."

Hooking one toned leg over your shoulder for leverage, Chan carded his fingers through your hair to tilt your face upwards under his potent smoldering gaze. "Why don't you put that smart little mouth to good use and suck daddy dry then, hmm?"

Your tongue slipped out to drag a fat, messy stripe through the pearly beads of precum gathered on his cockhead, circling the engorged crown with torturous slow laps. When Chan's dick jerked heavily in your grip, you giggled and latched your lips around the tip in a tight suction to tongue at the sensitive bundle until he was thrashing beneath you.

"Fuckkk that's it, take it all down like a good girl," He groaned, head rolling back on the headrest as you slowly sank your jaw further to stretch your puffy lips around his considerable girth.

With a hand still fisted around the base, you eagerly worked the rest of his impressive length past your lips, swirling your tongue indecently and hollowing your cheeks to draw him deeper into your throat with filthy, gagging noises. Chan cursed vehemently, hips pumping off the seat to meet each sloppy down-bob of your head as the blunt head prodded into your convulsing throat.

"Such a cockslut for me, choking yourself sloppy and stupid on my dick…" Chan slurred through gritted teeth, one hand twisting in your hair to set a brutal cadence of forcefully skull-fucking your stretched mouth.

The sting of tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, coupled with the sharp burn of being deliciously impaled on his throbbing length. But the grotesque sound of your noisily suctioning mouth, your saliva-slickened chin, and Chan's punishingly deep shoves into your gullet made your cunt throb with unbridled arousal. You keened around his cock with pleasure, practically humping the console in search of much-needed friction between your neglected legs.

With a guttural snarl, Chan hilted himself fully in the convulsing wet heat of your throat until your nose brushed coarse curls and your lashes fluttered with lack of air. The fat, leaking crown stretched your poor lips obscenely wide, pearly drool and stringy saliva dripping down your chin to soak your tits.

"F-Fuck, gonna fill your tight little throat with so much cum," Chan rumbled through gritted teeth, harsh grunts punching out in time with the debauched bobbing motion of fucking your sloppy face. "Going to drench you in a hot, thick load right down your throat like the cumdump slut you are…"

At his lewd words, you whined out a pathetic plea around the thick cock spearing your gullet. The prospect of being so thoroughly defiled and used as nothing but a jizz receptacle had your core gushing fresh arousal. Your muffled whimpers and gags only seemed to spur Chan on to jackhammer his hips upwards in sharper, more erratic thrusts. Every withdrawal left a fat trail of spittle and precum painting your chin before the fat cockhead stretched your lips wide yet again.

Out of nowhere, Chan delivered a stinging slap across your cheek, leaving a crimson handprint blooming along your face as more tears sprang up. But the harsh sting only made you moan deliriously around his member, angling your neck to take the next fierce thrust deeper, harder, sloppier. You were absolutely transcendent on the degradation, serving as his fuckdoll to relentlessly throat and use like a cockwarmer.

"I'm cumming, I'm fuckin' c-cummin'…" Chan growled out a final warning in a wrecked, guttural tone.

The first hot, viscous ropes of his seed erupted out into the back of your gullet before you could react, thick cream painting the insides of your throat and dribbling back out around your poor abused lips in a filthy mess. Your body shook with the desperate urge to swallow down each spurt of cum, only for Chan to sink his nails into the crown of your scalp to still your movements and pump his hips. More and more of his spend coated your tonsils, gushing down your sputtering windpipe and draining back out around your spit-slick oral cavity…

By the time Chan's pulsing cock started delivering its final weak spurts of seed down your raw throat, every inch of your pretty face was a sloppy mess of drool, tears, and thick globs of his potent release. Jets of cum continued to dribble from the plump, distended shape of your overstuffed lips even as he dragged his softening length from your mouth with a final groan.

Chan didn't give you more than a moment to gasp frantically for air before he was hauling you up into a bruising, possessive kiss. You keened against his mouth, allowing him to chase the musky taste of his own spend flicking over both your tongues in a nasty, unrestrained makeout. The erotic flavor made your head swim, pussy throbbing with need to be similarly painted with his seed.

"I want every drop cleaned up, baby girl," Chan husked in a low rumble against your spit-slick lips when you finally parted for air. The promise in his smoky gaze was undeniable - he planned to use and defile every part of your body until you were a slutty, trembling mess well into the night.

With needy whimpers tumbling from your puffy lips, you obediently scooped up the pearly strands and globs of potent cream smeared across your jaw, chin, and down your heaving chest with petite fingertips. You held Chan's heated stare as you unabashedly lapped the tangy puddles of cum from your skin, swirling your tongue around each digit with obscene slurping noises to polish them clean.

"Good girl…such a nasty little cumwhore for me," he groaned approvingly, thick cock already twitching back to engorged interest from watching your erotic show. "Get it nice and slick for round two now."

Chan spread his muscled thighs obscenely wider, nearly sprawled in the driver's seat while his slick, heavy prick lay gleaming and exposed against his defined lower abdomen. He was putting himself on unabashed display, shamelessly baiting you to make a sloppy mess of his gorgeous body next, and who are you to not fall for his bait…

[diejager]

Halloween Party

Pairing: Ghoap x fem!reader

Cw: smut, cunnilingus, drinking, DUB-CON, partying, kidnapping, mentioned cannibalism, locking up, tell me if I missed any. wc: 1.4k

You’re at a Halloween party with a group of friends, well, coworkers. You all came to this party under the guise of having a good time with the promise of good booze and free food. Who wouldn’t want to go when there was free food? There were neon lights in the dark house, high ceilings with decorative spiderwebs and loud - near deafening - music blasting in the background of the place. In the frenzy of it all, you all separated, one gravitating towards their preferred clique: the wild partygoers, the wallflowers, the dancers, the gossipers or the foodies.

You found yourself lost, between the loud music, the low lights and the shoulder-bumping crowd around you, you couldn’t make heads or tails of where you were, stumbling between swaying hips and screaming voices. You felt lost and confused, falling into the arms of a stranger, strong arms holding you up, big, gloved hands wrapped around your hips. Apologies tumbled off your tongue with awkward shifts, but you didn't expect him to laugh, a smooth voice reaching your ears over the loud music and cacophonous atmosphere, an accent you couldn’t recognize on his tongue.

He presented himself as Soap. Soap, dressed in black rags with his hood lowered, combat boots, leather gloves and a white mask propped to the side of his head, smooth plastic pulled into a screaming face with a thin cloth covering every hole, entertaining you during the first portion of the night. He led you to the kitchen and poured you beer - from the taste - in a red cup, you ate, drank and chatted, from his hobbies to your favourite animal. You slowly gravitated towards stronger alcohol, letting Soap fill your cup over and over again, you lost count of how many drinks you’ve had.

A while into the night, when Soap had broken down your guard and had you relaxed and comfortable around him, dropping hints that he was interested in you, another man peered over his shoulder, making you choke down your drink from his sudden appearance. He called himself Ghost in a low, grumbling voice, British in every sense. He wore tattered clothes, hanging from his wide shoulders and bulky arms, bloodied boots and gloves, and a hockey mask sewn into a black mask covering his whole face. 

Ghost and Soap knew each other, you were certain of it, from the way they faced each other to the way they held one another, Ghost’s arm around Soap’s hip, Soap’s hand on Ghost’s forearm, how close they stood together or how physical they were. You felt as if they were more than friends, more than they told you - or so your drunk mind perceived it. Seated between both men, one nursing a cup and another holding food, they coaxed you into their car, from the stool in the kitchen island to the backseat of their beat-up car, a black, unassuming jeep.

Soap has you squirming and moaning, back pressed into the soft leather of the seats with your panties pulled down to your ankle, legs spread open by his hands, strong and unmoving to your struggle and cries of pleasure. The scruff of his trimmed beard scratched your thighs sensually, the rough texture of his fingers thumbing your pulsing clit and his nimble tongue had you coming a few times, body arched and wound tight, the coil in your navel exploding in white, fiery pleasure. They focused solely on your enjoyment, Ghost driving the jeep with a painful and neglected hard-on, his cock pressing against the seams of his briefs and pants, and Soap’s occupied mouth, tongue and hands left him rutting against the seat, coming in his pants.

The short walk from the car to their room was a blur, ending with you trapped beneath Ghost, his thick and veiny cock pounding you into the mattress, his filthy praises making slick pool out of you, rolling down your ass as he pressed your legs to your chest. Then he had Soap eat you out, cleaning up his mess, moaning and groaning into your lips while he fingered his boyfriend’s ass, thick fingers stretching the rim of his twitching hole.

When Ghost deemed it stretched enough, he had you ride Soap, bouncing on and off his cock while the masked man rocked into Soap, his balls slapping loudly against Soap’s ass, degrading and calling Soap a pup, his puppy. It slipped from riding one to being pressed between them both, being manhandled with both cocks driving into you, fighting for whose cock got to come in you, to paint your walls in his load, ropes upon ropes of white cum. 

Sometime around being pressed beneath them both, to arching over the bed, ass bucking against Soap’s hip while taking Ghost down your throat, roughly fucking your throat, you passed out after a mind-numbing climax, body twitching and whining, used and sensitive. You were too lost to catch onto their quiet conversation, their shared plan of taking you, but then Soap liked you, wanting to keep you rather than cut you up and eat you. 

When you woke up, all you remembered was the incredible night you spent, the heavily sexual moment that left you sore and bruised, you expected to see light filter through the window of their room, but you weren’t laying under a blanket, instead, you woke up shackled by the ankle and naked on a mattress. You were in a dark and damp room, the air humid and the light limited to the small, singular window at the farthest wall of the basement. It was utilitaristically decorated, with boxes and a metal table covered with tools, butcher knives, saws, meat hammers and a variety of sharp and specific knives, and to your far left, multiple freezers. It was like a scene right out of a horror movie with a stupid and horny female character - you.

You panicked, breathing shallowly in rapid puffs, whines tearing through your sore throat, tears bubbling from your lashes and streaming down your cheeks while all you could do was cry and hyperventilate. Your mind raced with terrifying images, the dooming end of your pitiful life and restless death, unable to tell your loved ones goodbye. 

Your cries had attracted the men’s attention, the floor creaking as they walked towards the basement door, you scrambled to your bed, covering yourself as best as you could and stared at the stairs with wide, fearful eyes. Light flooded the room when he opened the door, his feet appearing at the corner of the stairs, the gap between the steps and the railing. The slow walk and the suspenseful silence had you quivering, doe eyes gazing their way until both men stopped before you. 

You let out pleading mumbles, body wracked with shivers from the slight breeze of cool air from the autumn air. You couldn’t fight them, you couldn’t stop them, Ghost and Soap were twice your size in height and weight, muscle-bound forms and specialised strategies. To them, you were the drunk girl they picked up from a party, deeming you fit for their next victim. So all you could do was cry and whimper as Ghost walked closer to you, feet stopping at the edge of your bed. 

He crouched down, his face, now donning a new mask painted with a white skull, meeting your lowered one. You heard him sigh, closing your eyes when his fingers held your chin, forcing you to stare him in the eyes, his pretty brown hues, and you were too terrified to fight against him. Behind him stood Soap, smiling happily, yet unmoving and deaf to your teary plight, he had his hands stuffed into his pockets, his face portraying brightly his happy countenance.

“Oh, don’t cry,” Ghost’s deep, rumbling voice shook you, “We won’t do anything, pet.”

He called you pet, his pet. You were chained and naked in his basement where he probably killed and chopped up people into pieces before burying them in god knows where.

“Aye, we decided to keep ya,” Soap - or whatever his real name was - pushed, closing in to stand by your side, sitting beside you and cradling you in his arms, away from his partner, “I like ya a lot and so does Si, so stop crying, bonnie.”

“B-but you-” you stuttered, voice catching in your throat. “Ple-please, just let me-me go!”

“We're not letting you go, pet,” Ghost - Si as Soap called him - scoffed, his eyes lingering down your chest and bruised thighs, “Johnny and I’ll keep you safe, you’ll be happy with us, yeah?”

At least you knew the names of your captors, the names of the men you screamed last night rather than Soap and Ghost. Your big, handsome and strong kidnappers had normal names despite their unusual hobby: Johnny and Si. 

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973

[semperama]

hiii, for the ask game, i would love nr 7 (i dreamt about you last night) for buddie! ✨️

This is probably not what you had in mind when you sent this prompt, and I'm sorry!! It got a little angsty on me. Also long.

“I dreamt about you last night.”

----

Buck wakes up to sheets soaked with sweat, a scream halfway out of his mouth. His ears are still ringing with gunfire, sirens. His heart is pounding, his lungs pulling desperately at the air. He paws at his face, his neck, looks at his hands in the semi-dark and expects them to be stained black with blood.

But it’s just clean skin. He’s alone in his bedroom, legs tangled in the blankets, no copper taste on his tongue.

It was a dream. Just a dream.

The fourth time he’s had the same dream in as many nights.

He throws back the covers and gets out of bed, goes into the bathroom where he turns on the light and splashes water on his face, like that might wash it all the way. They always do it in the movies, the water trick. He wonders if it ever works for them. It doesn’t work for him.

Even when he’s awake, he sees it. The blank expression on Eddie’s face. The pool of blood spreading across the asphalt. The way Eddie’s hand moved. He reached for Buck like Buck could save him, and Buck tried, but it doesn’t feel like it was enough. Even though Eddie’s alive—it was because the bullet missed vital organs, and because the surgeons knew what they were doing. But if he’d been hit a couple inches to the left…Buck couldn’t have done anything. Eddie might still have reached for him, but all he would have been able to do was watch him die.

“Fuck,” he mutters, then splashes himself with another handful of cold water. He can’t—won’t—go back to bed, so he shuts off the faucet and goes downstairs, curls up on the couch and turns the TV on.

He should nod off again. He’s tired enough to. But he knows by now what will happen if he does, the worst moment of his life in technicolor, surround sound. So he stays awake, until the gray light of dawn crowds out the darkness beyond his windows.

———

The nightmares didn’t start until Buck went home. The nights he slept on the Diaz couch were quiet and dreamless, either because he was too exhausted or too numb. He went to work, did the necessary chores, helped Christopher with his homework and cooked him dinner. His body ran on autopilot and his mind stayed blissfully blank, and at night he dropped off to sleep like someone pulled his plug.

But it’s been almost a week since Eddie got home, five days since he sent Buck back to the loft. You’ll kill your back sleeping on that couch much longer. I’ll call you if you need you. Buck hasn’t gotten more than four hours of sleep in a night since.

“You look like shit,” Chim says when Buck clomps up the stairs for breakfast at the start of their next shift. And Buck knows it’s the truth. He saw himself in the mirror this morning. His eyes are bloodshot, and the circles under them have darkened into a bruised shade of purple. His hands have been shaking so much, he keeps them stuffed into his pockets or curled around something—the strap of his bag, a coffee mug.

Bobby’s busy chopping a handful of chives, but when he looks up, Buck knows immediately what he’s going to say.

“Go home, Buck,” Bobby says. “You know you’re no use to us like this.”

What the fuck am I going to do at home? Buck wants to ask—but he also knows Bobby’s right. In his current state, he’d end up jamming the Jaws into his own leg, or throw himself off the side of a building before clipping in.

Maybe neither would be so bad, though. Maybe a different kind of pain would be a relief.

Regardless, he can’t go home. He sits inside the Jeep in the parking lot for almost ten minutes, hands curled around the steering wheel, wondering if a nap here would end up the same way. Then, he starts up the engine and drives to Eddie’s.

It takes a while for Eddie to get to the door, and Buck realizes too late he’s probably sleeping. It’s early, and the painkillers always make him tired, and Buck should have just—let him sleep. Someone should be getting some sleep.

“Why didn’t you just come in?” Eddie asks when he sees it’s Buck on his doorstep. He looks—soft. His hair is sleep-rumpled. He’s not wearing a shirt, his sling strapped across his bare chest, and soft black sweatpants sit low on his hips. Buck wants to lean in and bury his face into the place where his shoulder meets his neck.

“Not sure,” Buck says honestly. His brain isn’t working right, probably. How could it, when it’s wrapped in three layers of cotton?

Eddie steps back to let him in, a furrow forming in his brow. “Wait, aren’t you supposed to be at work?” he says. “And why do you look like—is everything okay?”

Buck shuffles in just enough for Eddie to shut the door behind him. “I had a dream about you,” he says, dropping his gaze to the floor. He feels like a child, showing up in his parents’ bedroom in the middle of the night to cry about the monsters in his closet. Or—it’s how he imagines it must feel. His own parents certainly weren’t interested in protecting him from the things that go bump in the night.

“A dream?” Eddie repeats. He takes a step forward, puts a hand on Buck’s shoulder, and ducks his head to meet his eyes.

“More than one, actually.” Buck doesn’t want to look at him, but he knows he won’t stand for it. “Every night.” His voice cracks. “The sniper.”

“Buck.” Eddie’s hand tightens on him, grips hard enough to hurt. It’s good. Grounding. Buck wants to beg him to leave a bruise. “Why didn’t you say something?

“You’re the one who got shot,” Buck says. “What right do I have to even—”

“No, hey.” Eddie moves in closer, his hand kneading Buck’s shoulder, only a few inches of space between them now. “For me, it was just…pain, and-and your face, and then black. For you…I’ve been in your shoes before, too. I know how scary it can be.”

Buck wants to reach for him, but there’s no safe place to put his hands—the soft skin of Eddie’s waist, the pillow crease that slashes across the side of his face. “I almost didn’t save you.” Finally, Buck touches Eddie’s elbow, just gently, with the tips of his fingers. “I froze, Eddie.” His breath hitches. He can feel his face start to crumple. “I almost didn’t—”

“Oh, Buck.” Eddie yanks him in, guides Buck’s forehead to that spot Buck wanted to nestle into moments ago, holds him close. It’s awkward with Eddie’s bum arm smushed between them, his knuckles digging into Buck’s stomach, but it’s also perfect, because Eddie is warm and alive, his heart beating and blood rushing through his veins and lungs expanding, his breath ruffling Buck’s hair. “I’m here,” he murmurs, his fingers scratching into the hair at the back of Buck’s head. “I’m fine. You did save me, okay? I’m right here.”

Buck cries. For how long, he doesn’t know. Shaky sobs into Eddie’s shoulder, Eddie’s skin going slick under his cheek. His arms curl around Eddie’s waist, and his fingers dig in, clinging. Eddie almost died, but he didn’t die. He’s here, and he’s solid, and he’s real. Buck doesn’t ever want to let go of him again.

“Here, why don’t we…” Eddie says after some indeterminate amount of time, shifting to wrap his arm around Buck’s shoulders and tug. “Come on. Come lay down with me. You need sleep.”

“Yeah,” Buck says, a strangled sound. He lifts his head enough to walk under his own power, but he won’t stop touching Eddie, one arm still wound around him, their hips brushing all the way down the hall.

In the bedroom, he makes himself let go of Eddie long enough that Eddie can rearrange himself in bed, get into a position that’s comfortable for his shoulder. Buck climbs in carefully, but as soon as he starts to settle, Eddie pulls him closer, manhandles him so his face is tucked against Eddie’s neck again, that spot starting to feel like it was made just for him, two puzzle pieces fitting together.

“Sleep,” Eddie says, and soon, Buck does.

He falls into dreams of Eddie, but this time it’s different—not the sniper, not any other disaster. He dreams of Eddie and Chris at the zoo, gilded with sunlight. He dreams of Eddie grinning up at him during a rope rescue. He dreams of warm skin, warm breath, strong fingers pressing bruises into his hips.

He sleeps, and he dreams of Eddie.

[honeykngdom]

𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚢 | 𝚎.𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕 | 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝

Pairing: Embry Call x Original Character Summary: Join Ainsley and Embry as they embark on a journey where they are forced to question everything they thought they knew, and embrace the pain that is inevitable to avoid in love. An imprint story. Self-discovery. Angst and romance. Word Count: 4.7k Warnings: NSFW - mentions of prior sexual assault, mentions of prior ingestion of date rape prev. chapter | next chapter

The sun broke through the curtains, pulling me from my slumber. Embry left the window open throughout the night, making the air within our shared room frosty and bitter; I sunk deeper into the mattress and pulled the thick duvet under my chin. My eyes strained against the light, and I gave a sort of whining noise as I stretched my legs, entire body aching with the movements. A pair of warm arms tightened around my waist and Embry’s nose pressed into my neck as he hugged me closer to his half-asleep frame. 

My eyes watched the gentle fall of the snowflakes, a small smile breaking across my lips as I gingerly ran my hand along the arm that held me. “Look, babe. It’s snowing.” I whispered quietly; the gentle lift of his chin was followed by a slight hum, then a lingering kiss was pressed to my jaw. It was mornings like these that I wanted to freeze in time forever. Wanted to remain in bed all day with Embry and his warm embrace. “I have to get up.” I lamented, my breath faltering into a laugh as Embry groaned in reluctance. 

I spent several minutes trying to coax him into letting me go – it ended with multiple kisses and disapproving mumbles. I had an early shift at the diner, and needed to give myself ample time to get to Forks so that I wasn’t late. I rushed through my shower, slipping on two pairs of socks to keep the cold tiles from bothering my feet. Once I was satisfied with my hair and no longer looked lifeless, I returned to the cold bedroom to see Embry’s frame spread across the bed frame. He laid on his stomach, hugging his arms around the pillow his head was resting on. The bed was a King, and still, he almost looked too big – as though he were sleeping on a double. 

I pressed my cold lips to his back, evading his desperate fingers as they searched blindly for me. “I’ll see you at Emily’s tonight – I promised her we’d help out.” 

“Your keys are in the ignition.” Embry grunted in response. 

I expected the Jeep to be buried under a mountain of snow, but instead it sat in the driveway cleared. Embry must have slipped out while I was showering to clear it off for me - and had even started the heat inside. I shivered in the warmth of the vehicle, thanking all the Gods for my boyfriend before I pulled the car into drive and sped off down the road towards the highway out of town. 

It took me an extra twenty minutes to get through the snow banks; the plows hadn’t come through the reservation yet but I was certain the drive home would be less daunting. I parked behind the diner, rushing through the backdoor. I was shrugging out of my jacket just as the clock ticked to 7:00 AM. 

“Mornin’ chickie!” Debbie chirped from the front counter, her red hair curled uniformly away from her face. 

“Morning.” I smiled, kicking my boots off at the door to pull my sneakers on. “Where’s Angie?” 

Speak of the devil, and the devil shall appear. The short-haired girl rounded the corner, supporting the tray with her hip. I could tell Angie had recently buzzed the undercut, leaving the three inches up top to grow out a little more. I smiled wider, catching the cloth that was tossed in my direction. 

“Hey, nugget.”

“How’s the rush?” I asked.

“Not much of a rush,” Angie sighed, sorting the dishes off her tray. “Damn snow.” 

I bumped her hip, rolling the sleeves up on my white blouse to wash my hands. “Don’t knock the snow.” 

“What’s so great about it? It’s cold, it’s wet, it gets ugly when exhaust and cars run over it all the time.”

I rolled my eyes. “It means Christmas is coming.” I rinsed the soap from my skin, and flicked my fingers at Angie’s face, water droplets pelting in her direction. “Plus, it means my birthday is almost here.” 

Angie was about a year older than I was. When I first started working at Shaker’s, Ang’s hair had just reached her chin, was parted in the middle and was a warm chestnut brown. After her break up, she buzzed the undercut and kept it short, just long enough to grab a decent fistful whenever she was stressed. Her teeth sat in perfectly straightened rows – many thanks to the braces she endured in her teen years. Her pale skin made me envision red sunburns in the summertime. She was simple, but still pretty. It was her firecracker attitude that made me fall in love with her. 

“There’s somebody out there asking for you.” Angie stuffed her towel into the back pocket of her black jeans. “All morning - showed up right when we opened.” 

I pulled my brows together, tying my apron around my waist hastily as I wandered towards the front. The girls were right – the diner was essentially empty, except for the two occupied booths in the corner. There was a man that sat at the front counter, his hands wrapped gingerly around a cup of coffee and his hat pulled down over his eyes. I grabbed one of the breakfast menus as I wandered towards him. 

“Special for the day is blueberry pancakes. Trust me, you’ll want to try ‘em if you’re just passing through.” I mused lightly, sliding the laminated booklet in front of him. 

When he looked up, I froze. I would have recognized that petulant stare from a mile away; his brown orbs now darkened into a sort of black, his mouth pulled back into a slight grimace. I braced my hands on the countertop between us, trying to keep the bad taste from rising completely up my throat. 

Maddox looked as though he had been through hell and back a few times. I couldn’t find the heart to feel any sort of sympathy. 

“Not hungry,” he said finally, pushing the menu away with the tips of his fingers. 

I watched him carefully for a moment, assessing the way his shoulders hunched forward, the way his movements seemed controlled and careful. He was trying to make himself small, so much different from how he used to be. 

I had loved him once. Prior to the date-party, prior to my unhappy ending, I had believed him every time he said he’d marry me someday, that he’d make me happy. He’d take care of me. That is what I had counted on - being with someone that could protect me from any sort of danger, although I had never fathomed what that danger could possibly be. His honey-brown orbs used to make my head spin, the way he carried himself made me feel as though he was an unstoppable force of nature. 

When he was hanging out with my brothers, he spent fight  nights stepping into the shoes of some stereotypical douchebag, trying to put on a show to get the cash flowing. He knew people would never bet against him if no one ever landed a solid swing or two on him. He never wanted me to be there, mentioned something about it being too crowded, too busy. I never listened, obviously. Travis always kept good on his promise to sneak me in, but always failed to make sure I didn’t go missing. 

“What are you doing here?” I asked curtly, pulling the menu from the countertop to drill holes into his forehead. 

Maddox lifted his chin and sighed, his eyes wandering just above my head for a split second before he cracked a small half-smile. “Staying with some friends in the area,” he lied, cocking his left brow, “what are you doing here? Don’t you live on the reserve?” 

I pulled my brows together. “How did you know?” 

His eyes rolled. “Because you told me where you were born, love.” 

“Do not,” I seethed, leaning forward to get in his face, “come in here and pretend like you know me.” 

“But I do know you.” Maddox pressed, leaning back away from me quickly. “Your favourite colour is purple. You absolutely love ketchup even though it’s awful for you. You can’t stand the rain yet you can’t seem to find yourself anywhere sunny and warm to live. You’d never admit it outloud, but Trenton is your favoured brother -”

I held up my hand, having heard enough. I was certain he could go on and on. We had spent the majority of a year together as an item; being young had meant we spent more time in private than at house parties. The first time I agreed to go to a frat party was only because he was a freshman and had begged me to come along. Maddox was on bitch duty, had to make sure everyone had a drink in their hand, and had to be the one to clean up the house once everyone had left. Before that night, I thought I had met the one, thought I knew what it was like to be loved. 

If only I had known a love like Embry’s, I might’ve been able to save myself from the months of nightmares and internal torment. 

I moved down the countertop, wiping the space at the end of the counter where my regular usually sat. He only came in Tuesday mornings, right before his shift at the department with my father. My lips broke into a slightly forced smile as Charlie took his seat, shrugging out of his coat. 

“Regular black?” I asked as I pulled a mug from the dishwasher. 

“Yes ma’am,” he beamed; his face was old and weary. TJ talked about Charlie quite a bit, with him being the Chief and all. When I finally met him, we clicked and he swore up and down he’d only come in for breakfast or dinner on the nights I was working. He always tipped generously, and always left smiling. Last I heard, he was dating Sue, Seth and Leah’s mom. 

I glanced at Maddox from my peripheral vision; he had removed his hat, light brown hair pulled back into a small bun. He was watching me, assessing my movements much like I had been watching him earlier. I tried not to let my annoyance surface, poured Charlie’s coffee and tossed the empty canister into the sink. 

I set the mug in front of Charlie, leaning against the countertop. “The special’s blueberry pancakes.” I said cheerfully, browsing through the laminated pages of the menu. “But, you have yet to try any of the omelets – which is a sin, because they’re so delicious.” I mused, eyes scanning over the page. 

“How about just a big stack of bacon.” I glanced at him with slight disapproval. “What? Look at the crap I gotta deal with today, I deserve some pig meat.”

“Only if you get eggs with it.” I finalized, standing up straight.

“Fine.” Charlie replied bitterly, taking a sip of the steaming coffee. “Poached.” 

“Bacon burnt to a crisp?” I asked, slipping the menu back into its place under the register. Charlie nodded. 

Customers trailed in one by one over the course of the next two hours, each seated with heaping mountains of warm breakfast filling their tables. Maddox had yet to finish his coffee, but I was certain it was ice-cold by this point. When I walked past him for the umpteenth time, I swiped his mug off the countertop, dumped the contents in the sink and poured him a fresh cup. 

“You didn’t have to do that.” He said once I replaced it in front of him, leaning back on the stool when I neared. I pulled her brows together first in confusion, then annoyance. 

“Yes, I did.” I grumbled, wiping the counter around him. “My boss does keep an eye on me, and the customers.” 

Maddox pursed his lips together, settling his hands around his mug again, “You’re doing a good job.” 

“Don’t.” I hissed, turning to pile the empty and used mugs into the dishwasher up front. When I turned around to restock the napkin dispenser, Maddox was wearing a smug smile. His smugness was nothing like Embry’s - and that made me want to launch my fist right into his nose. 

“Would you prefer it if I left?” He asked. 

“Yes, actually,” I braced my hand on the counter and the other on my hip, trying to keep my face straight and emotionless, “because I don’t know why you’re here.” 

“I wanted to see you.” 

I clenched my jaw together tightly, lifting my eyes from his to scan the restaurant. Charlie was pulling his jacket over his uniform, offering me momentary relief. 

“I never wanted to see you. So, I think it’s best if you leave.” I pressed, hard eyes cutting back to the unwelcome visitors before I pushed away from the counter to meet Charlie at the till. 

Another hour passed; another hour where Maddox waited patiently, where his coffee remained untouched, another hour where I could feel my irritation building. I pushed through the doors behind the kitchen, wandering over to where Angie sat on a pile of skids. I sat down next to her, leaning against the wall for support. 

“Still there, huh?” Angie asked with a laugh, working her fingers through her cropped hair. 

“Mhm,” I sighed, fixing my ponytail. “I wish he’d leave.” 

“Tell him off.”

I rolled my eyes, “Don’t you think I haven’t tried that, Ang?” My friend tossed me a sheepish smile over her shoulder, shrugging meekly. “Debbie would be pissed if he left a bad review.”

“Would he leave a bad review?” 

I thought about it for a moment. “Probably. Just to spite me.” We exited the kitchen together, working to clear the tables on our respective halves of the floor, quickly wiping down tables and restocking condiment containers. By the time lunch pulled around, I opted out of walking down the street to buy lunch. I tossed my apron onto the skids in the back, and walked out into the dining area, around the counter with my food. 

Maddox watched me take a seat in one of the booths. Much to my dismay, he slipped off his stool, bringing his cold coffee with him. 

I watched him settle into the booth across from me; I began pouring the syrup across my two slices of french toast, trying not to pay him any mind. We sat in silence for five minutes before he spoke up, “I’m sorry, did I do something wrong?”

I dropped my fork on my plate, folding my arm., “That’s funny.” 

“What is?”

“You’ve got a lot of balls, Maddox.” I spat, cutting through the second piece. “To show up here and pretend like I don’t have every reason to completely hate you. The only reason why I’ve been playing nice is because this is my job, and I have to be nice.” 

Maddox leaned forward. “And if we weren’t here?” 

“I would’ve kicked you in the fucking balls three hours ago.” 

He laughed, mainly to himself, folding his hands on top of the table. “Still feisty, it’s adorable.” 

“Yeah,” I growled, “my boyfriend seems to think so, too.” 

“I’m sure he does.” Maddox – for the first time that morning – took a small sip of his coffee, face even, smooth and emotionless. “Embry, isn’t it?”

I paused again, eyes burning holes into his, jaw clenching shut again. “How do you know his name?” 

“Are you happy?”

I shook my head, pushing my plate away from me. “Dammit, Maddox.” I growled, leaning back in the booth. “How do you know so much about my life here? I haven’t seen you since –” I stopped talking, pursing my lips shut tightly. I watched the slightest hint of remorse flash in his dark eyes. “You need to leave.” 

“Ainsley.”

“No. You don’t get to show up here and pretend like nothing happened – like you have a right to know me.” 

“Your friends aren’t the safest people to be around, Ains.” 

“What friends?” I asked bitterly. 

“Jacob, Embry – the rest.” His tone was suggestive as he leaned forward. “They’re walking timebombs, love, you gotta know that’s not safe.” 

“Better than a bunch of rapists –”

“I am not a rapist.” He retorted, his eyes flashed quickly and his voice was low and raspy. The sudden change in his demeanor sent a shiver down my spine, causing the hairs on my arms to stand at full attention. 

My tongue moved slowly around the words. “No. You’re just an accomplice, which is just as bad.” 

Maddox was moving quickly then. He slid out of the booth, reaching into his wallet for a twenty. He slapped it on the table, his nostrils flared angrily. “For the coffee.”

“Coffee’s two-fifty –”

“Then consider it a tip.” He growled, pulling his hat back over his head. Maddox paused for a brief moment, then inhaled deeply and bent down quickly, pressing his lips to my hair – which I tried to refrain from recoiling from. He then turned and appeared to glide towards the front door, walking into the white storm with his hands shoved deep into his pockets. I moved my eyes back down to the twenty on the table, then looked up to meet Angie’s eyes, sinking down into my seat with a sense of defeat washing over my body. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

I parked next to Emily’s house, cursing myself for not thinking to pack an extra set of clothing for after my shift. The baby shower was tomorrow, and I promised Emily I would stop by after I finished at the diner to help set up. There were sisters from her hometown that would be driving in, along with the entire pack plus their significant others, and some extended family. Embry and I had gone halfsies on adorable onesies. One read “You People Are Huge” (my choice) and another read “Watch your language asshole, I’m a baby” (Embry’s choice, unfortunately). 

I slipped my boots off at the door, leaving my jacket draped over one of the kitchen chairs. “You shouldn’t be doing that.” I chided, moving to help Emily down from the mini-ladder. The kitchen had been overfilled with streamers and balloons carefully and strategically hung from banister to banister. 

“My husband wouldn’t help.” She growled, resting a hand on her swollen tummy. 

Sam popped his head out from around the corner of the living room, his thick brows pulled together. “You yelled at me and told me you could do it yourself!” 

“You’re not supposed to believe me!” Emily hissed, shoving the leftover garbage into the white bag that sat in the middle of the table. 

Embry came up from the basement with Jared on his tail; I felt my chest lighten, hands instinctively reaching forward to him. “Warm.” I mumbled happily, wrapping my arms around his stomach, pressing my cold hands against his bare back. He leaned down with a quiet chuckle, pressing his lips to my hair.

And then shoved me away quickly, arms gripping my shoulders tightly. 

“Ow.” I whined quietly, trying to squirm away from his grip. “Emb, ease up.”

“You stink.” Embry said definitively, his eyes hard and cold.

I stopped moving, feeling the heat rise in my chest. I looked around the room uncomfortably, then lowered my voice. “No, I didn’t have time to go home and change, I’m sor–”

“No, shut up.” He growled, pulling me into him again, returning his nose to my hair. Embry inhaled deeply, pulling his face away with a look of disgust before he looked over his shoulder, “Sam, c’mere.” 

I shoved his arms away from mine, hands rubbing over the skin tentatively, hoping that it wouldn’t be too heavily bruised. I planned on wearing a short-sleeved dress for the shower. Sam put his empty wrappers into the garbage, then leaned over the chair to sniff the air around me. 

His face hardened, much like Embry’s had, a certain distaste crawled over his features as a visible tremor rolled down his spine. Emily watched from behind Embry with a confused expression, carefully keeping close eyes on Sam’s frame. “That’s the scent.” Embry finally said, taking a step away from my frame. 

“They’re in Forks.” Jared said quietly from his seat on the stairs. 

“What are they doing in Forks?” 

“Who’s in Forks?” I wondered out loud, looking up at Embry for some sort of explanation. He ignored me, following Sam into the living room as the pair began conversing hastily. Jared rolled his eyes, giving Emily a knowing glance. 

“Woah, what stinks?” Paul scrunched his nose up, Jacob, Leah and Trent following suit as they entered in from the crisp outdoors. Paul and Jacob were bare-chested and wearing cut-offs, which meant they were back from their evening patrol. 

“Ainsley.” Jared grumbled in reply to Paul, his eyes narrowing in my direction.  

Emily threw a roll of tape in his general direction. “Give it a rest, Jared.”

“What’s going on?” 

Emily rolled her eyes, sitting next to me at the table, “Ainsley came across one of the scents today and brought it home, so I’m sure Sam and Embry are in the living room plotting how to eliminate the threat.” 

Paul sat on the other side of me, sniffing again. I blushed. “That’s the males – how did you manage to bring that home?” 

“Bring what home?” I asked, annoyance dripping off each word. 

“The leeches scent. You’re covered in it.” He stated, as if it were the most obvious thing.

I paused, rearing my thoughts back to my day. I always kept an eye out for anything that seemed out of place, people that seemed obviously beautiful and perfect. People that seemed restrained. “Maddox ..” I whispered quietly, feeling my chest cave abruptly. There was no way – 

“Maddox?” Trent asked from across the table. “What’s he doing in Forks?” 

“He was looking for me at Shaker’s.” I replied absently, eyes unfocused on the table in front of me. “Came by before I even showed up, didn’t leave until after lunch rush.” 

“What did he want?” Paul asked, kicking his feet up onto the table. Emily grimaced. 

I shrugged, hoping I could remain cool and collected. “No idea, honestly. That would explain how he knows you all by name – that’s what he meant when he said you were …” I sighed, letting my eyes slip shut. “This makes sense.” Kind of. 

“His scent is saturating you, Ains.” Embry drawled from the doorway, arms folded across his broad chest. Sam stood next to him, mimicking the same seriousness.

I could feel my shoulders drop forward, attempting to make myself small under the careful watch of everyone in the room. “He sat with me when I was on break.” 

“You let the scumbag sit with you?” Trent asked dubiously. 

Better rip the bandaid off. “And he might have kissed my head before he left.” I conceded. 

“Ainsley –”

“I told him to leave.” I said desperately, trying to avoid bringing my eyes to meet my boyfriends. Embry had tried his best to keep his temper from coming forward when I was around, trying to believe nothing I did was to purposely hurt him. But in that moment, I could see Leah move in between Trent and Embry, hands braced on the back of his chair. The room had shifted; it was suddenly thick, hot and uncomfortable. 

“Who’s Maddox?” Jacob asked, breaking the silence in the room. I shared a look with Trent, hoping he would keep good on his word. When he met my eyes, his face softened in understanding. The situation I had thrown myself into was not one out of choice: undoubtedly, Embry was fuming. If not because a vampire had been close enough to his imprint that I could have died, then because said vampire had actually touched me. Kissed me. 

“Someone from Seattle that I knew.” Trent said finally. “Worked with him for a few months. Not the greatest guy.” 

“Perfect. So, we’re doing the world a favour, then.” Embry suggested, anger dripping from his words. It was uncomfortable to hear him speak so freely about the idea of killing someone, although I knew they didn’t necessarily see it as murder. Couldn’t kill what was already dead. 

“What are you going to do, Emb? Kill him yourself?” Leah asked from behind Trent, her tone half-teasing.

“Yes.” 

All eyes shot to Embry then, watching his arms settle at his sides, fists trembling the slightest bit. I thought back to Maddox – small visions played across my mind. Embry’s large gray wolf ripping through his flesh, his growls filling the empty air. I tried to suppress the urge to shiver. 

“Guess we’re heading back out there.” Jacob sighed, nodding toward Leah. “Embry, maybe you should go home with Ains. If one of them knows her, it might be better if –”

“No.” He said angrily, his hard eyes cutting back to me briefly before he returned his gaze to Jacob dutifully. “I'm going with you.” 

At this point, I couldn’t tell if he was adamant about finding Maddox to kill him, or if he really didn’t want to be stuck with me. I was trying to pretend like the latter wasn’t a possibility. The room emptied quickly, each warm body following Embry out of the front door, slamming it shut behind them. Trent, Emily and I sat around the kitchen table, quietly looking around the half-decorated room. 

“Better finish this, then.” I said finally, grabbing a roll of tape. Emily and my brother watched me for only a moment, both of their faces heavy, before Trent stood and came to help. We spent the following hour hanging multi-coloured ribbon from the ceiling, turning Emily’s kitchen and living room into open areas with lots of space, full of balloons and streamers. 

I offered to give Trent a ride back to Leah’s, seeing as Jacob had been their original ride to Emily’s. Once we were in the Jeep, he turned the heat on full and turned to me. 

“Are we going to talk about what happened?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“C’mon, Ains.” He sighed, leaning his elbow against the window. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” 

“That’s a load of shit,” he grumbled, “Maddox gave you hell.”

“Maddox wasn’t the one who defiled me and left me on the bathroom floor.” 

Trent clenched his jaw. “No, but he was the one who let frat scum slip a pill into your drink.” 

“Trent, leave it alone.” 

“Why?” My brother asked, neck craned so he could look at me with a hard expression. “Maddox deserves everything Embry wants to do to him, and probably more.” 

I didn’t respond; my hands gripped the steering wheel tightly while my eyes focused on navigating through the white sheet of snow that whirled around in the darkness. I didn’t want to talk about Maddox. I didn’t want anyone to know about what had happened, or give Embry more of a reason to get angry. I didn’t want to make excuses for the man, but I didn’t want to think about my boyfriend taking pleasure in killing anyone. 

“Ainsley,” Trenton finally broke the silence, a sigh tumbling from lips. “Do you wanna go home? We can go home. I’ll stay at the house with you.” 

I shook my head vehemently. “No, I should probably be there when Embry comes back.” I sniffled, wiping my nose on my sleeve. I was still sick and the outside weather wasn’t helping me feel any less crappy. “You’re living with Leah now?” I asked, glancing over at Trent in the darkness. 

He shrugged. “My idea. Took a lot of persuasion.” 

“I bet.” I mumbled, turning into Leah’s driveway. “She doesn’t seem like she’s the type to jump head first into all of this.” 

“Definitely not.” He laughed, pulling his hat over his ears. “See you tomorrow?” 

“Yeah.” I nodded, offering him a smile as he exited the vehicle. 

The ride back to Embry and Jacob’s side of the reservation was slow; neither of the men were home when I arrived. To spare any sort of argument later, I showered as quickly and thoroughly as I could, and threw in a load of laundry in hopes of eliminating any traces of the vampire stench. The clock on the kitchen wall read 11:56 PM by the time I finished eating and cleaned the dishes.

My eyes fought sleep until my phone read 2:00 AM. I finally gave up waiting for Embry to come home, and gave in to the exhaustion that draped over me like a thick blanket. I locked the windows tightly, ensuring to keep any harsh winds from coming through. Then, I collapsed onto my side of the bed, pulling the thick white duvet up to my chin, shivering slightly in the bed that was colder than usual.

[avatarrecom]

How Am I Supposed to Live, Laugh, Love in These Conditions?

Chapter 2

Kidnapped without a home masterlist

After what feels like days, the car comes to a stop and the engine is turned off. Leona remains silent, nervous about what will happen and where Spider is.

The trunk is opened and a grumpy looking man, ready to catch her when she tries to run away, stands outside the car. Judging by the rising sun, quite some time has passed. Leona's eyes narrow as the man grabs her arm and roughly pulls her out of the trunk. "Hey! watch it man," she snaps, after which she quickly scans her surroundings, a parking lot in the middle of a forest, for her brother and a way out.

The man blocks her view before she can take in more of her surroundings, so Leona turns her attention back to him as she tries to get her feet under her. “Where the fuck is my brother,” she demands, “where the fuck is Spider.” The man opens his mouth to snap at her to shut up or to answer her, Leona doesn't know, when a white car drives into the parking lot.

“Were you followed?” her captor asks the Asian-looking man who steps out of the car. The man shakes his head. “Uhm, hello, where the fuck is Spider and who the hell are you?” Leona snaps. shut your fucking mouth,” her captor snarls, wrapping his hand so tightly around Leona's arm that she cringes.

"Warren," the other man says warningly, "Boss specifically said neither of them were to get hurt." "Nice going, Zhang," snarls 'Warren', "now she knows my name." 'Zhang' shrugs, "who can she tell, the boss has no intention of ever letting them go."

Zhang opens the car door and pulls Spider out of the car. Leona elbows Warren in his stomach and runs to Spider as soon as he lets her go. A sharp pain shoots through her right leg, but Leona ignores it in favor of reaching Spider as quickly as possible.

Leona pulls Spider close to her, while she fires a hundred questions at him about whether he is injured. Spider shakes his head and Leona sighs in relief. Then she remembers what happened and pulls away so she can shake Spider by the shoulders.

“Why the hell did you stop running?!” she exclaims, “you could have escaped!” Spider wants to say something, but Leona doesn't give him the time while she rants. "I couldn't just leave you behind!" Spider exclaims. Leona pauses. "You're my sister, you may think you have to protect me because you're older, but I'm your brother and I have just as much right to protect you." Spider stubbornly crosses his arms, his posture and facial expression painfully similar to their mother's.

Leona sighs and pulls her brother into a tight hug again, "You're an idiot, you know that," she mumbles into his annoyingly high shoulder.

During Leona's tirade, more cars entered the parking lot. Two women get out of a red car, one has a gold piercing above her lip and the left side of her head shaved. The other woman has both sides of her head shaved and her hair in a high ponytail with gold rings.

Two men get out of a dark blue car, one with dark skin and his black hair shaved on the sides and long on top. The other man has bi-colored hair. On his head it is a brown shade, while his bun is a more grayish shade.

Four more men get out of the last car, a large jeep. The driver has short black hair with two shaved lines on the side and sunglasses. A man with red hair tied in a bun steps out of the passenger side. And from behind comes a man with flopping brown hair and a colored man with his dark hair slicked back. It seems like every single one of them are armed.

'Jesus Christ,' Leona thinks. "How many people do they need to kidnap two teenagers."

Leona flails as she feels dizzy again and winces in pain as she puts too much pressure on her right leg. When she looks back, she sees that she has a huge bruise on the back of her leg that has spread to both sides of her leg.

“What the fuck happened to her,” the man with flopping brown hair asks as he studies her with a concerned and suspicious look. Warren shrugs a shoulder and doesn't answer. The man with brown hair approaches Leona and Spider stands protectively in front of his sister. “I'm a doctor, my name is Ja,” he introduces himself, “I just want to help you.”

Spider steps aside suspiciously to let him help his sister. Ja falls on his knees to look at her leg and poke it, studies the hazy look in Leona's eyes and asks her a number of questions, meanwhile he shoots Warren irritated looks.

"You'll be okay in no time, it's the side effects of the drugs." When Ja says the word 'drugs' a murmur goes through the group. Ja strides to Warren and hisses something about the stun dart being a last option.

“It's not like I've asked this before,” Leona begins sarcastically, “but who the fuck are you and why did you kidnap us.” Their captors look blankly at Leona and Spider.

“Because I ordered them to,” a new voice speaks from another direction. The gruff voice belongs to a man, he appears to be in his early fifties. He has short shaved hair, with longer hair gelled back on top. There is a large scar on his nose. Next to him is a creepy grinning bald man.

But the man with the scar attracts Leona's full attention. His eyes are just like hers and his hair color is just like Spiders. “Hello, pup,” the man says. Leona's eyes widen as she realizes who he is and who the man next to him probably is. "You should be fucking dead," Leona snarls angrily.

Spider looks confused and nervously tugs on her sleeve, "Who are they?" Both men look hurt by the question. "I am your father, son and this is your-" Before he can finish his sentence he is interrupted by Leona. “You're not our fucking father!” she shouts angrily, "You're still fucking alive, you never came for us after Mom died!" She doesn't let anyone say a word before she continues shouting "After she got killed by the people you fucking work for!"

Leona steps forward to give her so-called father a piece of her mind, when her right leg suddenly gives out.

She falls to the ground with a cry, clutching her leg as she tries to hold back her angry tears. Spider rushes to her side, hands fluttering frantically over her leg. Miles Quaritch strides over to Leona and demands to know what happened to her.

Everyone looks uncertainly, but accusingly, at Warren, who takes an uncertain step forward. Quaritch stomps over and in a hushed voice demands to know what happened to his daughter.

Ja approaches Leona and Spider cautiously and offers to help Leona. Together with Spider they lift Leona and place her on the edge of the trunk where she has just been locked for hours. Quaritch, meanwhile, begins snapping at Warren through clenched jaws with a blood vessel bulging in his neck and forehead. The look in his eyes promises nothing less than a painful death.

Suddenly footsteps sound in their direction. Everyone is alert, as if a switch has been turned. The woman with the gold piercing sits down next to Leona on the edge of the trunk, pulls Leona against her with an arm around her shoulder and whispers in a husky voice in her ear, "one wrong move and you won't walk away unscathed." Leona sees the shine of the barrel of the gun that she keeps hidden under her leather jacket. The man with the sunglasses is standing behind Spider and Leona assumes he is being told the same thing.

Leona catches Spider's gaze and begs him to obey with her eyes. Spider nods subtly and leans against the car.

"Oh hello!" sounds a cheerful voice. Leona's captors return friendly greetings and Leona hears the slight tension in their voices. “What a beautiful day isn't it?” the voice asks. Leona carefully leans forward and sees a man with hiking gear standing on the edge of the parking lot. She is roughly pulled back by the woman hitting her head. While Leona is busy trying to burn a hole in the side of the woman's head, she faintly hears Quaritch agreeing.

"Are you also planning to hike?" asks the unknown hiker. "Quaritch smiles tensely, "we were planning to spend a family day in the woods." The hiker nods in agreement, "and it's a beautiful day for that." He looks studiously at their company. "You have a big family." , diverse too," he notes, as he walks into the group to study everyone, tapping his walking sticks annoyingly on the ground. Leona raises an insulting eyebrow.

When the hiker walks past Leona, his face pales when he sees the various weapons the kidnappers are carrying. "Oh, you're planning to hunt wild animals," he stammers anxiously, "that's actually not allowed here, is it? And it doesn't seem like something those two children should see." The moment his eyes fall on the gun pressed against Leona's side, there is a loud bang.

Blood splatters on the ground and the hiker falls to the ground dead. Leona looks frozen at the blood flowing from his head, before reality sinks in. “What the fuck was that for?!” Spider shouts with tears in his eyes. "He saw our faces, the minute he was gone he would've called the police," Quaritch says calmly after holstering his gun. “You're a fucking monster,” Leona snarls in horror.

"I've heard that before," Quaritch says before she feels a sharp prick in her neck and she slumps against the body of the woman next to her.

[tflovertfs]

The Roo Virus: Part Two

After a long afternoon at the zoo, Chandler was finally able to quickly head home to grab some dinner before heading back to give a group of TikTok influencers an exclusive night tour of the Australia Zoo with Robert. It has been a while since Chandler has seen Robert. He was not worried about it since Robert tends to get adventurous.

Chandler hopped out of the Jeep that he drives and noticed that the door had not been fully closed. He knew Robert must be home now. When he walked in the door, he walked over to Robert's room and knocked on his door to remind him about the tour they have to give later that night. Chandler got no response. He decided to knock again and this time he heard rustling on the bed, so Chandler opened the door and warned Robert that he was coming in. Chandler opened the door and was shocked to see what was sleeping on Robert's bed, a large muscular creature.

The large creature was sleeping on the bed on his stomach. Since it was too big to fit on the bed, its legs were hanging off of the bed. The large, thick tail was touching the ground. Chandler got closer to the creature and was truly surprised at how muscular this thing was. Chandler took out his phone and took a picture of what was laying in Robert's bed.

Before Chandler was able to send the picture to anyone, the creature woke up to further reveal it was some species of kangaroo. Chandler started taking more pictures and as he was filtering through them, the kangaroo began standing up. Chandler stood there and admired the size and build of this new kangaroo species he discovered. The creature quickly got horny at the sight of Chandler standing there.

In a quick turn of events, the tall, muscular kangaroo made its way over to Chandler and managed to grab and get a hold of him. Moments later, the kangaroo removed Chandler's pants and underwear and started to fuck him. Chandler moaned in pain as the horny kangaroo kept fucking him. He tried to get away from the horny beast but couldn't. The beast had a tight grip on his body. Chandler tried to reach for anything to try to hit the creature to get away. He turned around to try to punch the beast and noticed that the eyes looked familiar. It was Robert.

Chandler was so busy trying to figure out how to escape the grasp of this beast that he was not paying attention to the changes occurring to his body. He looked down and noticed his dick throbbing as he was becoming more horny. Chandler grabbed it and began to jerk off while the kangaroo beast continued fucking him from behind. In a matter of seconds, Chandler's dick shifted to become more animal-like, and eventually it was no longer considered as a part of the human anatomy. A tail began to sprout from Chandler's tailbone accelerating the growth of black fur around his buttocks region and on the tail. The little black hairs began to rapidly cover his legs as they swelled with muscle. Chandler's feet began to grow in length too, so he could have stability for his upcoming new body. The growth of fur and nails quickly followed behind.

As Chandler jerked off, his hands started to become hairier. Little black hairs began to sprout out from his skin. The little black hairs turned into fur covering his hands, and the nails grew longer. His hands now resembled paws of some kind. The fur rapidly made its way up Chandler's arms as they began to expand with muscle. His shirt was so tight on his body that it could burst open at any moment. Chandler's shirt eventually busted open as his upper body muscles continued to swell. Black hairs continued to sprout from his chest and continued to spread across on his shoulders and around his neck.

What used to be Robert stopped fucking Chandler, and walked out of the room. Chandler was taken back about what just happened. He stood there examining his body since he had a chance now. Chandler tried to walk out of the room but could not due to his legs being sore. He stared down his body and noticed he was becoming a hairy beast.

Chandler walked over and picked up his pants and underwear that were now torn to shreds. As he bent down, more changes started. He grabbed his phone and in the reflection noticed that his jaw began to push out into a muzzle.

He continued to open his phone, saw the time and realized that he was going to be late for the tour but he did not care about that anymore. Chandler continued to fumble with his phone but dropped it. He began to touch his face as the black hairs sprouted from his face. Chandler's ears also shifted throughout this time. Chandler was no longer human and no one would be able to recognize him. However, he decided to head back to the zoo to give the tour anyway.

Chandler made his way out of Robert's room and out the door. The second he opened the door his memories began to fade and the only thing the new beast wanted to do was fuck more humans. The two kangaroo beasts eventually found each other and searched for more humans to transform.

[princessfbi]

For the smut prompt. “ you can be rough, I can take it” please. I love your work 💕

Spicy content beneath the Keep Reading!

Buck was going to snap at any second. That or he was going to splinter in pieces because Eddie was driving him insane. His touch was so soft, one of the softest things he'd ever felt, and so completely wrong for what they were doing: Fucking out the day's frustrations away until they were spent and too exhausted to think about the way their hair still smelled like smoke or that the structure collapsed too soon for them to be perfectly certain that no one had been inside.

No one had been, thankfully, but those few painful hours where they had searched through the rumble, holding their breaths while they waited to find a body, had been agonizing.

It had taken one heated looked from Eddie in the cab of the truck for Buck to know that they were on the same page.

Or, at least, he thought they were.

Buck had bit down on his lip until he tasted copper on his tongue while he worked himself open in the shower expecting a quick fuck in his Jeep before they went on their way. But Eddie was touching Buck like he was something tender. Like he was something that deserved to be touched by someone like Eddie Diaz. It made his heart ache in his chest with a longing that was dangerous and addictive and Buck had to bite down on his lip again to keep the keening sound of want from slipping free.

Pretending wasn't an option. Pretending led to hope and Buck had too much of that to spare.

He yanked on Eddie's hair and ripped him away from kissing his throat with more force than was probably necessary but he couldn't risk. Not when every kiss had Buck falling more and more for Eddie.

"You can be rough," Buck said, gasping as he throbbed against his stomach where he was positively leaking. "I can take it."

"I know you can," Eddie murmured against his lips despite Buck's fist in his hair.

And what was Buck supposed to do with that? He swallowed up his whimper by canting his chin up and kissing Eddie even harder, silently begging him to go rougher, faster, meaner so that Buck could forget the way his skin was vibrating with adrenaline. Eddie rocked in between his legs that were spread wide to accommodate Eddie's bulk and Buck spurred him on for more friction by digging his heels into Eddie's back.

But it wasn't enough. Eddie was still gentle and soft and sweet and everything Buck could ever want but it wasn't real.

They weren't real. They were just two friends making out like a couple of teenagers in the back of a car. They weren't in Buck's bed. They were in an empty parking garage. And Eddie wasn't swallowing all of Buck's sounds as he fingered him open like he wanted to seal them up in his lungs. He was trying to keep him quiet.

They weren't real and the sooner Buck realized that, the better. Maybe then he would be able to protect his heart.

[ktheist]

lips? sealed. legs? spread.

premise. because of the pandemic, you’re forced to have your graduation online. but that’s not stopping you from driving down to the beach to celebrate with your friends. it just so happens that you’re the main attraction of the night.

muses. jimin x reader, taehyung x reader, jeongguk x reader, yoongi x reader, yoongi x jimin.

word. 3.6k

warnings. consensual gangbang. public sex. unprotected sex. sex on the beach. bigdick!tae, bigdick!jeongguk, thick dick!jimin

note. this is pure absolute filth. idek why i wrote this.

x

it started with truth or dare before the word “boring” comes out of park jimin’s mouth and a “strip” added to cure that boredom to get you through the night. lisa manoban ends up stripped down to her panties and bra and steps out of the game.

“nah, i’m out, you guys have fun though.” she waves her hand in surrender, picks up her clothes and slips away from the circle to emphasize on her withdrawal from the game.

a series of ‘aww’s and ‘boo’s follow from you and the rest before hoseok disappears five minutes later, saying something about needing to take a number 1 but never coming back and getting forgotten by everyone.

he’s probably left to check up on lisa who said she was going to grab some snacks from the convenience store that’s just three minutes away from the beach.

the flames of the custom made bonfire dance in the night, cackling and laughing when it’s your turn to discard your bra. the chilly air making your nipples stand. your cheeks are burning as you cross your arm over your exposed chest. the hesitant way you look down and bite your lip is enough indication that you’re thinking twice about being the sole winner of tonight’s strip truth or dare. kim taehyung attempts to place his jacket around you but is met by a series of protests.

“if you wanna put on a jacket, you gotta be prepared to admit defeat. that’s the rule.” or so jeon jeongguk announces.

“never heard of that rule before.” kim jennie looks at him with an elaborated twist of her eyebrows to show the utter confusion and absurdity she finds in his words.

“yeah, well, now you know,” jeongguk winks.

it’s either because of the man’s flirtatious advancements or because she really needs to go to the bathroom, that she stands up, pick up the shirt and the only piece of article she’s taken off and walks towards the cars. somewhere a few feet away, the lights of the convenience store and closed diner illuminates the area.

jisoo shoots you a look that you shoot back with another look of determination. if there’s anything you’d never be caught dead doing, it’s raising the white flag before jeon jeongguk does.

so she ends up chasing after jennie on her own.

“anyone else wanna be loser?” jeongguk asks, vanity apparent in his voice.

you wonder how it’s not shivering in the cold with how he’s stripped naked to his boxers.

“i need to get some water,” seokjin announces and struts towards the direction the girls were headed.

he’s one of the lucky few that managed to keep his clothes on throughout the game. 

it’s become an unspoken knowledge that the ones who backed out will go home in seokjin’s jeep.

there’s only you, taehyung, jimin, jeongguk and yoongi.

namjoon was the first to leave because his girlfriend called him crying for some reason and he’s the kind of man that would come running to his girl. somewhere in your heart, you feel a tinge of jealousy for chaeyoung for having such an amazing man who loves her to the moon and back.

“this is getting boring.” jimin confesses for the second time of the night, bringing the bottle to his plump lips.

“let’s play 7 minutes in heaven.” jeongguk suggests, “we’re all bored here.”

“but there’s just one girl...” jimin murmurs to himself.

“so? you can make out with one of us,” taehyung winks.

but jimin’s shyly looking down and smiling is the last thing you expect to see. he’d usually just brush off his best friend’s advancements by laughing or flirting back but never speechless.

“alright, here’s the bottle,” jeongguk says afer gulping down the whole content of the beer and lifting the opaque glass in the air, “game’s simple, it’s like spin the bottle but instead of making out, you spend 7 minutes in one of the cars.”

“no –not my car,” jimin complains, throwing his head back, probably recalling that time when he lent jeaongguk his car and in the morning, started blowing everyone’s phone up by spamming the group chat, sending death threats to jeongguk for those stains in the back seat.

“i’m out.” yoongi says simply, but doesn’t move from his spot which is sitting on the log between taehyung and jimin.

his porcelain skin is painted auburn from the fire in front of him. he raises the beer to his mouth and starts downing it.

“ugh okay, okay, how about just making out here for 7 minutes?” jeongguk mediates.

that receives a moderate response of ‘not-so-thrilled-but-not-against-it’ kind of nod.

jeongguk places the bottle down on the ground and yoongi plainly points, “that’s not how physics work.”

“shh,” the younger man shushes him up, “it’s gonna work.”

then he spins the bottle just a few centimeters above the sand. the opaque bottle spins in the air for the briefest moment before it lands on the grainy sand, it’s top pointed straight at you.

“okay, so me and ___ are the first pair.” he grins, excitement flashing across his eyes.

jimin goes next, mimicking jeongguk’s techniques and the bottle points at yoongi. all of a sudden, a strangled silence settles in.

the elder man makes an impressed nod –probably surprised at how things turned out.

“okay, tae, you spin the bottle and if falls on me or ___, you can join us and if it falls on jimin or yoongi, you can join them.” jeongguk says as if he’s done this plenty of times before.

you attempt to pick up your shirt when jeongguk clicks his tongue and wiggles his index finger in the air, “nu-uh, the game’s still going on, you put on any of the clothes you’re not supposed to have on, and you’re out.”

“that’s a dumb rule and i’m cold.” you roll your eyes and slip on your shirt anyway.

your nipples appear more protruded underneath that thin layer of material but it’s better than having to cover them with your arm.

jeongguk groans but doesn’t say anythng else as taehyung picks up the bottle and spins it.

in the end, you have a pair and a trio.

since taehyung is right next to you, crash your onto with his. it takes him a moment to register that the seven minutes start now before he swipes his tongue over your lower lip and you let him in, tasting the bitter beer in his mouth while he suckles on your tongue.

you expect taehyung to play along for the first few minutes and let jeongguk and you have a go at it. but the proactive advancements aren’t unwelcomed.

“hey! come on!” jeongguk whines somewhere in a distance –he’s sat across from you.

it doesn’t take long to make his way over and starts kissing your shoulder, sitting on the vacant end of the log. it’s the hand that snakes under your shirt and gropes your breast that makes you moan into taehyung’s mouth.

jeongguk pinches your nipple almost painfully, as if getting payback for starting without him.

when you don’t budge and wrap your arms around taehyung’s neck, he stops his assault on your sensitive buds and slips his hand under your panties. you gasp, body frozen from the unannounced intrusion and he takes that chance to turn your face to him, capturing your lips.

taehyung sighs softly, as if foreseeing that jeongguk would sweep you away from him. and you thought it the end of that.

but instead, you feel more slander fingers than jeongguk’s on your other breast that jeongguk didn’t touch. they’re gentle and handle you like you’re a delicate porcelain doll.

and like you said, taehyung’s touches aren’t unwelcomed.

that, paired with jeongguk’s careless fingers on your clit, easily makes you moan out in pleasure as sparks course through your veins, stars behind your eyes, your arm around jeongguk’s neck and your mouth tore away from his.

jeongguk lets out a low whistle as caresses your sensitive clit in a circular motion and stops when your hand grasps his wrist, telling him you need a break.

“wait, out here? dude, you can’t be serious,” taehyung lowly cautions as jeongguk shifts behind.

you barely get to focus your eyes after coming down from your high, noticing the two men making out behind taehyung where you last saw them. yoongi’s hand is in jimin’s pants.

“baby, can i put it in?” jeongguk’s voice is uncharacteristically silken and sweet.

it doesn’t take a genius why.

you throw a glance over your shoulder to see him pumping himself, his tip glistening with pre-cum.

“no, i want tae’s.” you say vindictively.

“what – “ the aforementioned man’s eyes widen, skin appearing olive gold next to the fire.

“may i, tae tae?” you smile, fluttering your lashes and smiling coquettishly as you caress him through his pants. just like jimin, he only lost his shirt in the earlier game.

his adam’s apple bobs as he contemplates your offer but spreads his legs open as though welcoming your touch.

“i...” he says thickly, “i don’t have a condom on me...”

“it’s fine, i’m on birth control,” you shrug, lips still curled into a suave, inviting smile.

then his head shakes in the smallest nod.

“yeah?” you ask, head tilted ever so slightly to the side in an innocent gesture.

“yeah,” he echoes your words, eyes screwing shut, “please.”

it takes you close to no difficulty to take him out. you ravel in his size –he’s possibly the biggest you’ve ever seen. taking him in your mouth, you let jeongguk pull you panties to the side and slip his tip past your entrance. he groans, appreciating your warmth while you coat taehyung’s length with your saliva.

once you’re sure taehyung’s all ready to take you, you lift yourself up, earning a whine from jeongguk whose closed eyes shoot open as if he just woke up from a  delightful dream and crashed into reality. you lower yourself onto taehyung, humming in appreciation like jeongguk did as the taller man stretches you out to fit his size.

once you’re sat on his lap and taking him to the hilt, only then do you pay attention to jeongguk who’s directing your hand to wrap around his length.

you start to move your hips, appreciating each delicious graze of taehyung’s length stretching and molding you to fit his size while pumping jeongguk’s shaft and lowering your mouth to wrap around his tip.

“i’m close,” taehyung murmurs breathily, his hand ghosting over your hips as though barely fighting against his primal urges to grab your hips and move you to his desirred tempo.

“you can come inside,” you say, tearing your mouth away from jeongguk for the briefest moment to throw your head to meet taehyung’s hooded gaze.

“please, can i cum inside you too? after tae?” jeongguk asks, knowing full well that he’s walking on thin ice with you.

“no.” you deny curtly, making sure to shoot him a glare to emphasize your disapproval.

“fuck,” taehyung’s voice cuts through the night as he’s pushed to his limit. those large hands dig into your skin as he bounces your ass on his lap the way he wants it.

and you let him. moaning against jeongguk’s tip as your brain shortcircuits. you barely notice the way jeongguk’s thrusting his length down your throat –much deeper than you’d allow him, just because you’re not a fan of his arrogance but also can’t completely resist it.

once you and taehyung stop moving, jeongguk easily lifts you up from taehyung’s lap and place you down on his.

“jeongguk,” you say warning, not at all pleased that he handled you like a ragdoll but can’t help the way you tighten around him –he’s winning in girth compared to taehyung.

“don’t move –i promise i won’t come inside you, just please let me feel you around me,” jeongguk’s basically begging as he hugs you close to him  –it’s probably to get you to stop any inch of movement but your stomach is fluttering and your cheeks are immeasurably hot.

you bite your lower lip from moaning.

while he’s holding you so tight, your clit is rubbing against him and you’ve got the fattest dick inside you.

there’s no way you can sit still.

you move your hip in a circular motion, the groan coming from jeongguk’s lips being music to your ears.

“fine,” you push the mated hair from his face when he pulls away from your shoulder and looks at you in the eye, they appear to be twinkling in the flicker of the flames, “you can come inside.”

the last thread of his sanity seems to snap. he lays you down on your back and because the log isn’t long enough for that, you end up having your head laid on taehyung’s thigh, his just-cummed dick still out in the open. every time jeongguk thrusts inside you, you end up brushing against it.

taehyung, having lost his reserves about sex in public, smiles down at you and places a hand underneath your head to support you while his friend is thrusting in and out of you like a mad man who’s never tasted a woman in his entire life.

eventually, taehyung, the moans and the squelching sounds disappear into a blurred mess. you don’t know where you start and where jeongguk ends. 

when you come to, you’re staring at the starless night sky, breathing heaving into steady breaths as you feel satisfaction tingles in between your legs. a mixture of jeongguk and taehyung’s cums pour out of you and onto your stained panties. 

and in the peaceful cackles of the bon fire and the sound of waves crashing, a shadow blocks your view.

“uh, ___,” jimin says hesitantly.

“hm?” you look up at the man with his length out –he’s probably the shortest compared to taehyung and jeongguk but his girth could give the latter a run for his money.

“we got turned on looking at you guys,” jimin stammers, cheeks flushed while yoongi stands next to him, stroking himself to the sight of your glistening and naked body.

“come here,” you giggle, pushing yourself up.

“let me,” taehyung whispers, sending shivers down your spine as he holds out his hand for you to use as a support.

you don’t realize how spent you are until you decide to stand up but almost go tumbling into the ground again a second later. you would’ve faceplanted into the sand if taehyung hadn’t caught you. he helps you to sit on his lap and holds both your legs up.

your panties are now discarded on the ground while sticky, white cum drips out of you freely and park jimin’s got a front row view of that.

you should be embarrassed but the last of your braincell’s got fucked out of you by jeongguk who’s now passed out on the sand, snoring away like he’s got no care in th world.

jimin’s face is beat red as he slips right inside you. it would’ve taken more teasing if you were to take him without jeongguk and taehyung’s jizz dripping out of you.

“you mind if i give you head instead?” you ask the elder man.

“not at all,” yoongi shrugs but that unbothered facade comes crumbling down like sand castle as soon as you wrap your lips around him, hand covering where your mouth can’t reach.

well, you can, but deepthroating’s jeongguk’s made you too tired to take another man deeper than you do now.

you sigh softly when jimin starts moving. he’s gentle with his strokes, as if making sure you’re gradually getting used to him. probably because he knows he’s thicker than the average men. and jimin being jimin, will probably make sure all his partners are comfortable (how ever comfortable you can be butt naked in the open and with sand sticking to your soles and exposed flesh.

but all that easily melts away as jimin hits that one spot that gets you throwing your head back on taehyung’s shoulder. even when he goes faster, he’s still attentive of your reactions and actions. 

you’re not sure how he can read you when it’s covered in yoongi’s cum. he’s the fastest to cum out of all the four boys. somewhere in your mind, you thank the universe for giving you a fast and easy blow.

when yoongi steps away, you shift your focus to jimin, “i’m coming,” you murmur.

it takes a few strokes more for  you come at the same time, jimin throwing his head back, barely moaning out. it’s as though his reservations still cling onto him and stops him from losing himself.

jimin pulls out with a sigh, legs barely able to stand so he tumbles back to one of those empty logs and zips himself up.

just when you’re about to pull your legs together, all of a sudden, conscious of how exposed and naked you are –taehyung’s hand stops you.

“taehyung...” you murmur, cheeks burning at the way you’re spread and bare with multiple men’s cum dripping down your ass.

but he doesn’t seem to mind as he slides his fingers down your stomach and slips two of them past your entrance, coating those slender digits with the cum inside you.

his motion starts picking up and until he’s thrusting his fingers inside you like he would his dick. you’re grasping his arm and biting your lips at the sudden yet different rush of pressure you’ve had up until now. with the pleasure jimin left you, it doesn’t take long for it to built up in the pit of your stomach and spreads through your body likes the waves against the shore.

the rest that follows is a blur. you remember foregoing your undergarments and slipping on your jeans and shirt before having taehyung sweep you off your feet and carry you to the car.

“t-tae! i can walk!” you try to protest but he simple chuckles.

“you can barely stand.”

you can only cast your eyes to his collarbones –anywhere besides his eyes as you recall the throbbing sensation between your legs.

jeongguk, having been kicked to wake by yoongi, scampers to stand up and follow the three of you. he falls a step behind and complains the whole way to the car, saying something about “can do that too”.

whatever that is.

when you reach your home, the lights in the living room are still on and you’re quite literally screwed.

“come on, i’ll help you to the porch,” jeongguk says ever so casually as he undes the safety belt.

yet something instinctual makes you hurl out words of rejection right there and there despite your brain telling you that you’ll barely make it three steps out of the door without crashing against the ground.

“no, i’m good.” you huff, swigging the car door open yet you hear another car door open and the sound of feet hurriedly shuffling over and in no time, jeongguk’s arm is around yours.

“i don’t need your help,” you hiss under your breath despite the relief that floods your system from jeongguk’s support.

“what are the chances of your parents letting you coming back past curfew slide because the face they saw walking you up to the porch is mine?” he makes a compelling argument.

before you can even refute, the front door swings open to your father’s glum expression. though his face lights up like christmas light as soon as he sees the man next to you.

“jeongguk! well, i’ll be damned,” your father beams, hands on his hips, “i didn’t know you two made up.”

“evening, mr. ___,” jeongguk nods in greeting, pretending not to hear the last part.

“thanks for walking me,” you say, strained.

gathering all that’s left of your might you take a step forward and out of his arm to stand next to your dad, waiting for him to leave.

“did someone say jeongguk?” your mother comes running from the couch, “oh, how’s your mother? is she well?”

“yeah. too well, actually. she’s been into yoga lately, keeps saying she’ll be able to beat me in arm wrestling,” jeongguk chuckles, scuffing his sole against the ground, hands buried inside his pocket.

“yeah, it’s getting late, don’t you think?” you cut in.

your parents seem to take the hint, your mother wishing him a one last, “tell minhee i said hi, yeah, son?”

“will do,” he smiles, eyes travelling to yours only to have him drop his gaze. “have a good evening mr. ___, mrs. ___.”

then he’s walking back to the car where you can see taehyung waving his hand from the passenger seat. only then, does an actual smile curve on your lips as you wave back, pretending not to notice the slouch in jeongguk’s figure.

x

that’s the last you talk to jeongguk privately. sometimes, when you’re texting in the group chat, you can’t help but reply to his dumb memes. yoongi and you exchange music in private message while you and jimin are ‘best friends’ on snapchat and you occasionally reply to taehyung’s insta story.

no one spoke of that night.

it’s as if it never happened.

the girls asked about it but you simply brush it off, “oh we had some drinks and decide to go home because it wasn’t fun with half of the squad not around.”

they don’t believe it.

but they don’t push it either.

but they probably thought you made a mistake and that mistake having something to do with your summer fling slash childhood friend, jeon jeongguk.

part of it was true.

except you fucked half of the boys in your group of friends.

it’s a month later, did you get a text from jeongguk on one ordinary friday night, after coming home from work. after going back to seoul.

jk: hey

jk: me and taehyung are going out for a drink

jk: since we live ten minutes away do you wanna come?

[malfoyfarms]

Sleepy Girl

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Reader

Word Count: 710

T/W: none

A/N: Idk where this came from, but I feel like everyone needs this time of JJ in their lives rn... also the jeep mentioned is not a new one, I meant an old one, like Stile’s jeep. Or older. do we want jj smut next ?

Of course long days on the water tired everyone out, but something about today completely took the life out of you. You were currently out cold on the deck of the HMS Pogue, covered up with a towel to keep the night breeze from chilling you too much. The rest of your friends sat around you quietly talking, enjoying the ride back to the dock. 

Once the boat had docked, you could feel one of your friends nudging you awake. In a sleepy daze you managed to pick yourself up off the deck, and climb out of the boat. 

“Woah there girly,” John B said as you nearly took a dive off the dock. JJ guided you down the dock, stopping when you grabbed his hand. 

“Up,” you mumbled and climbed onto his back for a piggy ride. He adjusted you and himself, making it easier on his body to carry you to the car. 

A lazy wave goodbye was sent toward the pack of people you left behind. They all stood in watch as they witnessed a different side of their usually tough and high strung friend. He dug through your backpack to find the keys to the old Jeep. Once he found them, he chucked the bag into the back seat, and opened the door to the front. JJ slid you around to his front side, not managing to wake you up. 

“You wanna get ‘n the passenger side or stay in my lap while we drive home?” He asked you. The grip behind his neck tightened, giving him the answer to his question. “Babe, I’m gonna need you to stand for two seconds.” 

You stood still, rubbing your eyes while he pushed the seat back a tad, and spread his legs apart. After he finished getting situated, you climbed into his lap, nuzzling the side of your head into his neck. He buckled you both in and started the car. Before pulling away, he picked up the scrunchie off the PRNDL, and pulled your hair into a low bun. 

“He is so in love with that girl,” Sarah said, admiring all that JJ had done just to accommodate your sleepy wishes. 

“If they don’t get married, love isn't real,” Pope replied.

During the drive home you had woken up a bit more due to the wind blowing around you. Being quite confused at first, you jumped, causing JJ to acknowledge you. He talked to you quietly, letting you know how close you were to home. There was nothing that made JJ feel more proud than the action of you burrowing your face into his neck. He appreciated the intimacy and vulnerability of the action. At the red light, he looked down and could see the outline of your hazy figure against his own. Your fingers traced his left hand which sat on your thigh. A quiet giggle escaped your lips when he shivered at your touch. JJ placed a kiss on the top of your head and turned up the stereo.

You were completely awake by the time the Jeep came to a halt. Grabbing your backpack out of the back seat, and your boy by the hand, you made your way around the house to the back door. 

“Shower and movie?” You asked, and he nodded. This was a typical night for you and JJ. 

He went into the bathroom to start the water, while you sat on your bedroom floor flipping through the stack of old dvds you had collected. 

The two of you shared a shower, saving water and time, and helping each other unwind from the day. You both clambered out ready to crawl into bed. Pajamas were optional, sometimes you both just needed to feel the other skin to skin.

JJ staying at your house had become a natural thing. Your parents never seemed to question it, but at the same time neither did the two of you. He had always been there, and now he never left. But hey, you were certainly not complaining.

With Million Dollar Baby playing in the background, you both slipped under the covers of the bed. There was nothing the two of you would rather be doing, sleeping besides the person you loved was just enough.

[amatchinwater]

How about a fic where Stiles slowly realizes that all the guys aren't just being nice... they're flirting and he has to figure out what he wants to do about that?

I wish that I could properly write this. I really do lol. You didn't mention an endgame, so I hope you like what I did with it and thank you so much for asking <3

---

It took Stiles nearly two weeks to realize that the guys around him were flirting with him and not just being nice. So Brett offered to drive him home one night because Stiles’ jeep wouldn’t start after their lacrosse game. The wolf smiled and reached over to touch him numerous times on the way. He thought it was just a wolf thing and he was being friendly since he helped save the wolf’s life.

Liam curled up next to him on pack nights, often arguing with Corey or Josh about who’s turn it was. Ever since what happened with Scott on the super moon, the wolf got really close to Stiles. He thought Liam looked at him as a brother or something. He’d never have guessed that he liked him.

All of those late night research stints with Mason now make so much more sense to him. How the teen would make a point to sit close enough that their shoulders or thighs were in a constant state of contact. How he would listen to everything Stiles said with wide eyes and a dopey grin. Mason would always stay the night- in his bed- rather than driving home at a decent hour or sleep in the guest room.

Josh and Corey have always been pretty nice to him. Aside from the one time after Josh was turned into a chimera and tried to kill Stiles on the hospital roof. But even he knows that doesn’t count as a point against the raiju, he was out of his mind. Stiles isn’t even really sure how things with Corey started, he used to be so into Mason and then one day the two of them combined just latched onto Stiles.

He thought it was a pack mom sort of deal. That they all just felt comfortable around him.

How fucking wrong he was.

He knows that now, standing wide eyed and slack jawed as all of the aforementioned guys are waiting for him to make a decision. How in the fuck is he supposed to make a decision like that? That’s cruel and unusual punishment is what that is. Brett leaned against the staircase with a lazy smile on his face. Corey and Josh sitting on one of the couches bouncing their legs, seemingly filled with as much nervous energy as Stiles. Mason and Liam standing by the fireplace while Theo occupies the other couch by himself, sitting like a goddamn king in his castle.

It’s his house after all. And his pack save for Brett.

“You guys want me to choose one of you?”

“I mean yeah, if you want to,” Brett says, crossing his arms, “we all talked about it. It doesn’t matter to us who you pick-”

“If you pick anyone at all,” Mason continues.

“We just want to see you happy,” Liam adds.

Oh what the fuck? His eyes trail around the room doing what he does best. Overthinking the fuck out of everything and weighing the pros on cons of making a decision at all. Stiles gives every guy in the room a good once over until his gaze falls on Theo.

The Alpha doesn’t move from the couch. Arms on the backrest and his legs still spread, watching with clear amusement on his face. Like he knows what Stiles’ answer is before he’s even said it himself. Because out of all of the guys in the house right now, Theo’s the only one who didn’t hint at his feelings. No. The chimera blatantly told him how he felt in way of pinning him to the wall and kissing him breathless. Theo lifts a hand and with one finger, silently beckons Stiles over.

With a smile on his face, the teen walks over and lets the chimera pull him into his lap. As if there was ever a chance he could make any other decision. Not when he’s the only one who’s been so upfront with him and is technically not really asking him to make a choice. He hasn't said a word since everyone showed up.

“Well, damn,” Brett says as the Alpha pulls Stiles impossibly closer and nuzzles his neck.

“I’m sorry, but-” Stiles starts, feeling more than a little guilty.

The wolf waves a hand with an effortless grin, “we said we wouldn’t be upset with who you pick, Stiles. You’re entitled to your feelings.”

“I gotta admit,” Mason smiles, “I’ve never seen Theo look at anyone that way before.”

“So you better treat him right, Raeken,” Liam adds with a hint of a growl.

It makes Stiles laugh as the Alpha kisses his cheek, “I intend to,” resting their foreheads together. Knowing it would upset Stiles more than do any good if he just shoved his tongue in the teen’s mouth after all of this. Theo’s smarter than that and knows Stiles better than that. He’ll wait until they leave to claim what’s his. And Stiles certainly isn’t going to complain, more than happy to be tucked into Theo’s neck and just cuddle.

[writingsbychlo]

key moves | stiles stilinski

word count; 9328

summary; turns out, stiles is pretty boring in bed. until he gets a few new tips, and then things get a little heated.

notes; this is just a normal au. no wolves, no supernatural, just the group, leading normal lives.

warnings; smut, public sex, drug use.

Stiles wasn’t too sure why he’d agreed to come and watch this film. He really had no clue what had passed through his mind, and that was all he could think about as he shifted awkwardly in the seat. It was what he could only assume at this point to be the sixth sex scene, and he rubbed his hand across his forehead.

Scott was rubbing a hand over his face for the trillionth time, mumbling about how he really doesn’t think Kira would want him to be watching this film. Theo and Isaac were having the time of their lives, cheering and making faces each time someone made a move, a ruckus kicking up between them. Liam had a red face and wide eyes, but his jaw hung open slightly as he watched the film.

“Guys.. guys I have to go. Kira would not want me to be watching this kinda’ film!” He got up, feet rapidly ascending the stairs of the empty theatre and out, and a snicker spread across the three older boys.

“Course, no, Kira would want him to be living it. What kind of excuse was that?” Liam looked over at Isaac as he spoke, and Stiles and Theo grinning in agreement.

“Nobody lives this. Look at it.” Stiles huffed, a smirk on his face as he kicked his legs out into the space in front of him, propping his feet on the back of the empty chair in front of him.

“What? Stiles this is so tame.” Isacc scoffed, hand waving in the direction of the film as the woman moaned out, the boys’ attention now all on him.

“W-What? No. People don’t actually do that.. I mean, look at them!” His arms flung out towards the gigantic screen, and Theo shifted in his seat, all three boys with eyes narrowed or eyebrows raised at him. “I mean.. I stick to like.. three key moves. I don’t do this, I shouldn’t be doing this, right?”

“Dude, you should definitely be doing that.” Isaac mumbled, cheeks flaming up as his eyes glossed over, mind clearly trailing away to Allison. He coughed, clearing his throat and snapping back into the moment, and Theo looked between the scarved boy and the flannel-wearing one.

“Uhm.. yeah. What do you mean ‘three key moves’?” Theo’s grin was widening as Stiles flushed, clearing his throat and scratching at his neck.

“I haven’t even had sex yet and even I know you’d do that!” Liam shouted, quieting himself down and glancing around the empty theatre, biting his bottom lip and mumbling an apology as the three older boys looked at him with glares.

“Spill, Stilinski. What are these three key moves, they better be good.” Isaac had a shit-eating grin on his face, a handful of popcorn being shoved into his mouth, kernels falling free and finding a home in the material around his neck.

“I don’t want to say.. I’m kinda’ doubting.. like.. everything right now.” A deep sigh left his lips, and Isaac began to pick the lost corns from his scarf, flicking them at him as he tried to deflect them.

“Stop it!”

“Tell us, then!” Both the brunette and the blonde prompted, high-fiving one another as they laughed, and Liam nodded along eagerly.

“Fine. But I am far too sober for this conversation. If we’re doing this, I need to be-”

“Oh, my God! This is the perfect time for a circle!” Theo gasped, slapping at his friend’s arms and Stiles threw his head back, a loud groan leaving his lips and Isaac stood, grabbing his popcorn and drink, tucking the snack box under his arm and using his free hand to yank a confused Liam to his feet by a fistful of his jumper at his shoulder. Theo ushered them both out of the aisle, and Stiles followed along, the film long forgotten as he patted down his pockets for his keys.

He clicked open the jeep, the three arguing over who gets shotgun, while Stiles rounded the side and hopped into the driver’s seat. Isaac ended up winning, slurping away at his drink and fiddling with the AUX cord as he plugged it into his phone.

“Do any of you want to tell me what a ‘circle’ is?” Liam muttered, shoved into the side door so Theo could sit in the middle, leaning across the console.

“It’s this shape, 2D, the three-dimensional equivalent is called a sphere an-” Stiles yelped as he was smacked across the back of the head, but it didn’t stop the cackle that left his lips.

“I meant in the context you morons were using it!” The youngest huffed, and Theo flicked him roughly in the ear.

“Respect your elders!” His tone was chastising, but he turned back to face him, letting the youngest look between them all as Stiles turned onto Isaac’s road. “It’s where we all sit in Isaac’s basement in a circle and get really, really high.” The two boys in the front cheered, the jeep jolting to a halt as they pulled onto the drive, all hopping out quickly as Isaac fumbled to balance everything while looking for his keys. They took the back entrance, bounding down the outdoor stairs and into the basement, the eldest three hurrying around the room, pulling chairs up to a round wooden table as Isaac lifted what looked to be an incredibly oversized, golden incense burner into the middle.

The three took their seats, and Stiles held his hands out for the grinder, Isaac passing over the brown paper bag he held as Theo motioned towards the empty seat, Liam standing idly in the room.

“Why have I never been invited to this before?”

“Because there are only four seats, and we usually do this with Scott, or some of the girls. You’re too young to get this high, I bet you pass out first.” The curly-haired boy unwrapped his scarf and Stiles dropped his flannel from his shoulders, unscrewing the top of the incense burner and lighting the small cones inside to cover the scent.

Following, Stiles laid out what was left of roll papers, perfectly sprinkling a collection of the slightly-sticky crushed greenery onto the papers, rolling them tightly and licking a line across the paper before twisting them at one end. He was barely finished with the first two, when Isaac lit one up, taking a deep inhale and blowing the smoke into the room. Liam expected the smell to overwhelm his senses, but it was thoroughly swamped out by the heavy scent of roses coming from the golden burner in the centre of the table.

The blunt was passed around and Stiles finished the other two, leaning back in his seat as Theo passed him the roll. It was already dwindling between his fingers and he balanced it between his lips, eyes slipping closed as the smoke burned deliciously at his throat, orange twinking along the paper as it burned further and further down. “Alright, twitch, pass it to the kid, let him try it. I wanna’ laugh at him before we get roofed.”

The honey-eyes boy nodded, passing a flickering stub to Liam, who took it between two shaky fingers, raising it to his lips as the older’s watched on, keenly. He pursed his lips around it, inhaling deeply and his eyes widened. He tore it away from his mouth, coughing out a mouthful of smoke and hitting at his chest, loud laughs erupting around the room. Liam tried again, getting the same reaction, but he could feel the tingling in his lungs and throat, his eyes widening and muscles relaxing.

“I feel like you need to be drunk to do this.” Liam grumbled, but let Theo take the dead ends from him and stub out the cig, as Isaac lit up the second. They were already beginning to relax, tense shoulders slouching as tension eased away.

“God, no, Li. That goes against the rule.” Stiles mumbled, the three elders all holding a cig to their own lips, occasionally offering Liam a drag.

“There’s rules to getting high and drunk, now?”

“Mh, no.” Stiles held up his hand, one finger raised and the rest curled into a fist. “One rule. Only the one. You never get drunk before getting high.�� He nodded to the younger one, a laugh falling from his lips as he leaned back in his seat. “Beer before grass, you’re on your ass. Grass before beer, you’re in the clear.” Stiles shrugged at the rhyme, and Liam felt like he should start writing things down, his mind spinning.

“Woah.”

“Yeah, if you have a drink before you smoke, you’ve fucked it.” Isaac giggled, who had finished his blunt a while ago, and was now trying to catch the straw of his drink between his teeth, lips twisted up into a cheesy grin. Theo, who’s head had lolled back, looked up, wide red eyes looking over his friends before laughing loudly.

“I think Liam’s already fucked it, look at him.” The youngest was giggling in his seat, staring at his feet and kicking against the table lightly. “So, spill Stiles.”

“Spill what? Wait, what?” He stubbed out ends, glancing at Theo who did the same, the room filled with a hazy smoke.

“Your three key moves. We’re gonna’ analyse your sex life, dude.”

“I don’t like the sound of that.” The boy sighed, dragging a hand through his hair and bringing his legs up to tuck under himself, sitting criss-cross on the chair. “Our sex life is perfectly fine. (Y/N)’s happy, I’m happy. What’s the deal?”

“She’s not happy if you’re not doing the things in that film. That wasn’t even like.. porn stunts. That was just sex.” Theo shook his head, and Stiles threw his head back, a loud groan falling from his lips. “Three key moves. Just tell us.”

“I-I.. fuck, fine, okay.” He shook his head, no idea why he bothered, but gave in, the pressure of the three looking at him forcing him to cave. “I just.. kiss her a bit, and then.. sorta.. trail my lips down her neck, while messing with her tits before.. you know..” Stiles held up two fingers, curling them a little as his friends looked.

“Okay, okay. We can work with this, a good start. Next?” Isaac rolled his hands, Stiles’ eyebrows furrowing as his friend spoke.

“Next? That’s it. Those are the three moves.”

“That- That’s it?!” Theo spluttered, hands slamming on his table as he leaned forward. “You kiss her, you touch her tits, finger her and you’re done. You just sleep with her? Wham, bam, thank you ma’am, and you’re done? Stiles, man..” Theo hissed out through his teeth and Isaac laughed, slapping at his knees as his entertainment was only heightened by the drugs in his system.

“I bet all he does is missionary too.” Isaac teased, his laughs cutting off as Stiles shrunk into his seat, face red and bottom lip clenched between his teeth, his friends’ jaws falling slack as their joke was realised to be true. “Oh, dude, really? I feel so bad for (Y/N)..”

“Hey! I please her! She.. finishes every single time.. I think..” He trailed off, scratching at his chin. His brown eyes flicked between those of his friends, before letting a deep sigh left his lips as he whines, leaning forward in his chair, elbows resting on his knees as his he placed his chin on his upturned palms. “Fuck, help me out?”

You swilled the wine in your glass around, listening to it slosh as the girls chatted. The pink was rapidly draining, only a drip left in the bottom of the glass and you placed it back down on the bar, after taking the last drops from the glass, the rosé sliding down your throat, adding to the buzz of the alcohol already in your system.

Your freshly manicured hand, nails painted by Lydia herself hours prior, drummed against the wooden top of the table you were crowded around, your feet clicking against the floor as you shuffled in your heels. You reached into your bag, already regretting the decision as you pulled out your phone. Your lips only formed a larger pout as the screen changed from dark to display the picture of you and Stiles, no notifications showing up, your eyes glancing at the time, just clicking over to another hour.

22:00.

You sighed, looking at the numbers and your attention was brought back to the word as Malia snapped her fingers in your face eyebrows raised, along with the other girls, who were also looking at you.

“Sorry, what did you say?” You tucked your phone back into your bag, leaning your elbows on the table and glancing around the four of them.

“Ally was just asking for tips on covering hickies. I told her to just get a good concealer and colour corrector, but she's pale so she can’t put too much on without it going orange. Malia said she finds ice helps after they finish, and Kira was totally not helpful by simply suggesting not letting a boy suck on your neck. Way to suck the fun out of it, Ki.” Lydia teased, the dark-haired girl sticking her tongue out in response, before their attention focused back on you.

A cringe found your lips, your cheeks heating up slightly as you shrugged. “Well, what do you do, anything helps, at this point.” Allison groaned, your embarrassment only furthering. “Yours are always hidden, you do a great job!”

“That’s because I don’t have any..” You muttered, a sour look taking over your features as a huff left your lips. “Ever. Stiles has never given me a hickey.” Malia had a teasing smirk on her face, Lydia’s jaw was basically on the floor and Allison was just looking at you with pity.

“Like.. never never?”

“Not once?”

“Seriously?”

“Nope, never.” You popped the ‘p’ for emphasis, and bit your bottom lip before jutting it out. You picked up your glass, hoping for another drink before realising it was empty. As was the bottle in the centre of the table, turned upside down in the ice bucket you’d been served it in.

“Well, that sucks. Pardon the pun, because having a guy bite and lick at your neck.. It’s really something.” The redhead across from you spoke, and you glanced at her, eyes boring into her own as you deadpanned.

“Yeah, it’s not by my choice that he doesn’t. He’s so.. clingy when we’re out and about. He always wants to hold my hands and stuff a-”

“That boy is territorial, if I ever saw it.” Malia cut you off, the girls around the table nodding and you threw your hands up in exasperation.

“Exactly! Like, I really wouldn't think it be all that far fetched for some jealousy sex or some hickies, but no.” Your words were grumbled out, and as you went to speak again, Lydia grabbed a waitress on her way past, mumbling an order before turning back to you all.

“I think we need shots to combat this. You, my dear, have a serious case of good-sex-withdrawal. It’s written all over your face.” She joked, and you nodded sadly, letting your face drop into your hands momentarily.

“I mean, it’s not that it’s not good sex, right? It’s.. fine, as sex goes. I always finish, we both get there, but.. it’s nothing new. It’s basic, same thing each time. I don’t even think we’ve ever changed positions. The most exciting our sex has ever been was the time I blew him on his birthday. It’s just.. boring, you know?” The girls all nodded, listening intently. “What’s the most exciting you’ve ever done, it can’t just be me, right?”

“Jordan once fucked me in a cell at the station after everyone had left, didn’t lock the door, cuffed me, the whole shebang. We had to steal the footage to get away with it. Was real kinky, and exciting. That whole.. public, might get caught, thing. And being tied up? Hot.” Lydia confessed, your jaw dropping at the idea, heat crawling up your skin as you thought about it with Stiles.

“I’ve done it with Scott at the hospital. Loads of beds, he’s kinda’ into playing that whole doctor-patient thing. I love it when it happens.” Kira hummed, chipping in.

“Isaac really likes to try mixing things up. Changing positions, bringing in toys, all that crap. He’s real experimental.” Your heart dropping as the girls all spoke up, and you bit your lip, eyes finding Malia’s.

“Theo has a thing about doing it in his car. He likes me on top, like the risk, the closeness, all of it. Whether we’re parked up or even if he’s driving, always gets him going.” Her shoulders lifted and dropped in the shrug, and your head threw back in a groan. The sound of glasses hitting the table filled your ears, and you glanced back, Lydia handing over money for the round of shots sitting out, two being placed before you, and she nimbly took the small item between her fingers, holding it up.

“To (Y/N)’s terrible sex life, because we all need shots to deal with that trainwreck.” She joked, a scoff falling from your lips, but you couldn’t deny the truth as laughs rang out across the table. You lifted the glass, holding your wrist out for salt before clinking your glass with theirs, licking the substance away and shooting both amounts, biting into the fruit as you winced.

A groan fell from your lips at the warmth consuming your body, however, and you bounced in your heels, hair flicking over your shoulder. “This is an SOS. Please, tell me what to do.” The frown you had become accustomed to was replaced with a hopeful smile, a more fitting expression for girls night and you flagged down a hostess, requesting another round of shots before turning back to the girls, who were all already spilling advice for you.

“Have you tried a striptease?” That suggestion caught your attention, your eyebrows raising as you looked over at Allison, the other girls looking at her too, impressed looks on their faces. “What? Any kind of teasing works, really, hands all over. Isaac can never keep his hands to himself for a long time when I start dancing and stripping, it always ends in something fun.”

“That could work. You know what else you should do?” Your stare was enough to prompt Lydia to continue talking, and she took a sip from her cocktail while watching you, squirming under her scrutinizing gaze. “Start dressing sexier. Like, sweetie, you’re hot. Okay? Hot. You look hot for a girl with a boyfriend, but if you wanna’ drive him a little crazy you have to dress more like a girl in a bar looking for some good sex.”

“I am a girl in a bar looking for some good sex, Lydia!”

“But, you don’t dress like it! Look, I was there when you bought that dress, you look hot in it, why have you put on tights and a jumper?” She muttered and you looked down at yourself, before finding her gaze again.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“That dress was made to show off your legs and tits, and those tights and jumper are defeating the objective. Go take ‘em off!” She waved her hands at you, your eyes widening.

“What? Now?”

“Yes!” All four chimed in at once, and you jumped slightly from the impact. Raising your hands up in surrender, your eyebrows furrowed as you fought through the crowds, finding the queue for the bathroom to be non-existent, and you locked the stall behind yourself. It was roomier than you expected, a nice mirror hanging over the sink, clean and tidy, tasteful little accompaniments, a bathroom that surprised you for a bar. Then again, this place was Lydia’s choice, she wouldn’t be seen dead in anywhere that didn't have good standards.

With a roll of your eyes, you lifted your knitted jumper over your head, folding it neatly beside yourself. Unzipping the boots that sat just above your knees, you slipped them off, before wiggling the black elastic down each of your legs, folding them up into a small bundle of fabric, before slipping your feet back into your boots, zipping them up. Taking a look at yourself in the mirror, you had to admit, the dress did make your boobs look good. The bra you had worn was nothing special, but you could now see the appeal of wearing a push-up bra too. Your breasts were already almost spilling from the fabric, the black lace covering them in the design was flattering, hiding just enough to be modest and leave some to the imagination, but plenty enough to tease someone who already knew what was underneath.

Turning, you almost gawked at how much longer your legs looked. They were elegant and sexy, especially with the boots brushing your thighs, and a smile formed on your face as you shook your head, laughing under your breath. “Of course, Lydia would know exactly how I should wear my clothes.” You took the jumper, a new sense of confidence filling you as you walked back to the table, hoots and whistles filling the air once the girls saw you approaching, and you couldn’t contain the liquor prompted giggles spilling from your lips.

“What did I miss?” You laughed, the new round of tequila sitting before each of you, untouched as they waited.

“We were just coming up with ideas for you. Things that drive guys crazy, you know?” Kira nodded happily, her enthusiasm bringing you great entertainment, ignoring the hype she had, clearly already feeling the effects of the drinks a little stronger.

“Oh, yeah? And what did you come up with?”

“Moaning.” Malia and Allison spoke in unison, a collection of chuckles leaving all of you as they high fived across the table.

“Moaning?” You prompted, throwing your shot back, the girls whooping and following.

“Yeah, like..” Lydia cleared her throat, her head tilting back as she let the sound fall from her lips, followed by a little pant. “Oh, my God, baby, oh my God, mhm..��� The looks she got were ignored, girls giving her glares as men looked over, eyes wide at her sounds. “You know? Try it!”

“Um.. no.” You shot her down, and she tipped her head to the side disapprovingly. Discontent complaints rang out from the ladies at your refusal, and you caved, groaning loudly and looking away from all of them, eyes zoning in on the table, picking at the threads of the jumper under your fingers. It was snatched from you, Malia stuffing it into her purse and you opened your mouth to complain.

“No, you don’t get your jumper back! It was distracting you! Focus, we’re fixing your sex life!” She joked and you dropped your shoulders, rolling your head from side to side.

“Fine! Fine!” You took a deep breath, closing your eyes and turning to the members of the group. When your eyes opened, however, your eyebrows furrowed. “Stiles?”

“That was pathetic. There wasn’t even a little bit of a moan in there.” Lydia shut you down, but your eyes were gazing over her shoulder at the man standing near the door, his friends piling in around him. You rounded the table, stepping out from the groups of people, his name falling from your lips again and he spun around, his eyes darting about until he found you, eyes roaming over your figure.

They stilled, pausing on your displayed tits and exposed skin of your legs, a hand reaching up to rub over his jaw before he eventually managed to drag his gaze back up to meet your own. He was soon moving, taking rapid and wide strides across the room, and he was before you within no time, his front almost pressed to yours. Your jaw dropped open to speak, ask him why he was here, but before you could, his lips had descended onto yours, tongue pushing past your open lips to tangle with your own.

A squeak left you, your eyes closing as his lips coaxed yours into moving with his, both of his hands finding your waist and pulling you flush up against him tightly. Your hands were pressed against his chest between you, and he dipped you backwards slightly, leaning over you as his lips dominated yours, rough and sloppy kisses being pressed to your mouth. This was the kind of kiss he’d never given you before, and you couldn’t help the quiet moan that slipped from your mouth and into his, his grip on your hips tightening in response.

When he pulled away from you, you sighed, swallowing thickly as you tried to catch your breath, honey eyes scanning over your face until your eyes opened, fluttering slightly to meet his.

“You’ve been smoking.” The first words that had come to mind had been that to voice the subtle funky and familiar taste of weed that he’d spread to your mouth from his.

“And you’ve been drinking.” His lips twisted up into a smirk as he watched you, unaccustomed to seeing you so flustered and breathless, especially because of him.

“What was that for?” He still held you to him tightly, his fingers now rubbing over your skin lightly, goosebumps in their wake, a shiver moving over your body.

“I just missed you.” He leaned down, his nose bumping against yours and his lips brushed your own, but when you pouted your lips, he pulled back, a wicked grin on his own lips as he watched you, needy and whining as you opened your eyes to look at him once again. His fingers found yours, lacing through them and pulling you away from the table, guiding you through the crowds to the same location you’d come from not half an hour before. Pushing you into one of the stalls, he locked the door behind you both, his hands pushing you up against the wooden walls as he looked down at you, your eyes wide and your body flushing under his gaze. “You didn’t look like this when you left for girls night earlier.”

“Lydia told me I’d look hotter without the jumper and tights.” You mumbled and he hummed, toying with the ends of the dress.

“She was right. You always look hot to me, baby, but tonight, you’re driving me crazy. I should be the only one looking at these tits, other guys were looking at you. At what’s mine. They didn’t even know, that I’m the only one who gets to fuck you, get’s to see your pretty little pussy wrapped around my cock, these beautiful tits bouncing.” His hands trailed up your front as he spoke, squeezing roughly at your breasts, pleasure surging your body, despite the layers of clothing. His words were filthy, sending an animalistic lust through you and you reached up, fingers threading into his hair as you tugged his lips down to meet yours in a wet and sloppy kiss, a groan leaving his lips at the action. He’d never spoken like this before, the fire burning in his eyes had never been present and your thighs were rubbing together in an attempt to relieve the tension building.

His hands found a place on the wall either side of your head, leaning towards you as his body practically pressed up against yours, hot breath washing over your face in steady rhythms and you found it hard to breathe, yourself. Breath was trapped in your lungs as he looked at you, pupils blown with lust and practically black, the soft shining honey that was usually present was gone.

Your lower lip was clenched beneath your teeth, and his eyes dropped from yours to follow the action, a short huff leaving his lips. The rough pads of his fingers smoothed over your skin as his palm cupped your cheek, thumb coming to ease your lip from its confines, running the digit over it. “Stiles, this isn’t like you.”

“Hmm, you don’t like it?” His eyes flickered back up to yours, gazing at you intently and your own widened, your head shaking fractionally in his grasp. Words seemed to escape you, and you gaped at him, watching as his face twisted from slightly nervous to entirely cocky. A dangerous smirk was pulling on his lips and he leaned in further, your eyes fluttering shut and resting against your skin, his doing the same, your lips brushing together with his.

“I-I like it.”

“Good, because I’d quite like to try something. If that’s okay with you?” You pushed away from the wall, your hands coming up to find his neck as your lips met his in a heated kiss. A groan fell from his mouth to yours at the contact, and he pressed further into you, his response instantaneous, lip tracing yours in an attempt to gain further entrance. You parted your lips, just barely, and the response wasn’t enough for him.

His hands wrapped around your wrists, pulling them from his shoulders and pushing you back up to the wall, arms stretched high above your head as a gasp was emitted from you. His tongue slipped into your mouth, a moan spilling from you as he did so and his lips pulled up into a smile against yours, your fingers twitching in his hold, wanting to hold onto him. His mouth was rough and fervent against yours, before he finally pulled away, your panting matching his, his teeth tugging on your lower lip as he did.

“I’m the only one who gets to bite this lip. Not you, not any of the guys looking at you along the bar. Only me. Okay?” You nodded, lips parted as he watched you shake excitedly in his grasp.

“What did you want to try?” You whispered, the air between you hot and thick, the cheeky look on his face doing nothing to ease the growing ache between your thighs. You were familiar with this feeling, but never had it been so intense or hot, like a fire curling up your body as your skin flushed, and you wanted nothing more than to peel off your clothes and free yourself of them, get the relief you needed.

“We’ll get to that, princess. Just you wait.” His mouth closed in towards you again, your lips puckering but they didn’t meet his. Instead, his lips found your jaw, your head tilting to the side in a surprised gasp as he sucked at your skin, wet tongue trailing along your jaw and down your throat before biting harshly at the soft skin. He soothed the patch with his lips and tongue, sucking and swirling in lines as you whimpered and moaned in his grasp.

Your body was buzzing, the feeling of his mouth that you knew so well, now working at places he never had before was driving you insane and you couldn’t clench your legs any tighter, a cry of desperation leaving your lips and he tore himself away from where he’d buried himself in your neck to look up at you when you made the sound. “Please, Stiles. I need you. I need you to do something. Anything!” Your words were choked out, your chest rising and falling quickly and he let his eyes run over you to take you in.

“God, you’re already falling apart and I’ve barely even begun.” He almost sounded surprised at the effect he was having on you, his free hand running fingers over you slowly and just barely, running from your stomach to your shoulder, brushing against your breast and your back arched into him. His trail continued up, cradling your face gently as he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. “Okay, princess, I’ll do something. But you have to do something for me, okay?”

“Yes. Anything. I’ll do anything, please Stiles, please just d-” his lips found yours, silencing you as you hummed happily at his touch.

“You keep these hands up here for me. And keep quiet. As much as I love hearing you begging for me, we don’t want to draw too much attention to ourselves.” His movements stilled and you lifted your head from where it rested against the wood, cracking your eyes open to look at him. His eyes were on fire with a teasing danger, a look of mischief you’d never seen before painted on his features, one eye dropping into a wink. “Yet, anyway.”

His hand slid down your front, skimming across the bare skin of your thigh before slipping under your skirt and brushing across the crotch of the cotton panties you wore, a cooing leaving his lips at how wet you were. “Sti..”

“Princess, you are just soaked. I don’t think you’ve ever been this wet. Who is this for?”

“All for you, Stiles. All for you. Nobody else gets me this wet, nobody has the same effect on me that you do. You drive me crazy.” You were already breathless, a hum leaving his lips as his touch left your core, tugging your dress up to bunch around your waist before dropping to his knees before you. Your head rocked forwards and your eyes widened, watching him stare up at you cheekily as he leaned forward, the tip of his nose pressing to your clit, the tip of his tongue dragging along your core through the material blocking his access.

You weren’t satisfied, you needed more, but it was something and your muscles eased minutely at the contact. His fingers came up, pushing your panties to the side before he dove in, tongue circling your entrance before pushing in slowly, a squeak leaving your lips as he did so.

His fingers found your clit, pushing against the button roughly and increasing his movements, slurping wetly at your heat and your body shuddered as he did so. You wanted to clamp your thighs together, but his head blocked your movements, a chuckle leaving his lips and vibrating against you at the attempted action. A loud moan left your lips as he did, and all his movements stopped, his touch soon pulling away from you entirely, a desperate whine leaving your lips at the loss of movement. “What did I tell you?”

“To keep quiet.” Your words were a hushed whisper and he hummed, his finger slipping back to your clit and rubbing slowly.

“And what did you not do?”

“Keep quiet.” He hummed again, pressing kissing to the skin of your thigh, biting at the top and tossing one of your legs over his shoulder. You tried to push your core back towards him, missing the newfound ecstasy that was having his tongue lapping at your hole, but he didn’t let you, only leaning back further, the digit rubbing you slowing down until it was barely moving.

“I’ll give you one more chance, okay, princess?” You sighed happily, nodding rapidly and he dove back in, two fingers slipping into your core as you clenched happily around the digits, biting your lips and swallowing down the sounds you were so desperate to release. His mouth replaced the finger on your swollen bud, sucking it between his lips roughly and a soft squeal sounded from you, and adrenaline flooded your body at the thought he might stop, but he seemed to ignore it.

Your stomach was tightening, your hips thrusting up weakly to meet his movements and his teeth grazed against your clit lightly, your hands flying down to his hair as you pulled at the tendrils, muffled whimpers leaving your lips as your nails scratched on his scalp. Your eyes were squeezed tightly shut, a third finger adding to the mix and stretching your walls, your body quaking with anticipation. He pulled back, his fingers working rapidly as obscene sounds filled the room.

You heart shuffling, and he stood up slowly, his fingers never slowing as he took your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your face to his as your gazes met. “Come, princess.” The minute the words left his mouth your walls broke, and he met your lips in a heated kiss as a cry made its way from your lips. Your walls hugged his fingers, and he milked everything you could give, continuing until you were slumped against the walls, arousal coating his fingers when he pulled them away, a sly grin on his face.

He tucked them into his mouth, licking them clean before pulling your face back to his, his tongue meeting yours as he made you taste yourself on him, the action only furthering his new dominance and a layer of goosebumps rose over your skin at his newfound personality.

“You broke the rules, baby. I told you to keep your hands up. I let your moans slide, but I think you need a punishment.” His words excited you, electricity jolting through your veins as he smirked at you. You could see the cogs turning behind his eyes, and he seemed to make up his mind. Licking his lips, his hands gripped at your waist roughly, pulling away from the wall and spinning you around.

He turned you in his grasp, your eyes finding his in the mirror that hung over the sink. He swept your hair from your shoulder, his lips trailing over the skin and biting at it, red marks that would soon blossom purple were taking place as he held at your waist, keeping you still. He looked up, eyes narrowing at the sides and one of his hands left your waist, trailing up your back until it rested between your shoulder blades, before pushing you forwards.

A yelp fell from your mouth as your hands flew out to grip at the porcelain and support yourself, your hair framing your face. “Since you can’t seem to keep your hands to yourself, I’ll make sure they stay where I want them. You’re gonna’ need to hold yourself up, princess.” His hands found your hips and he eased your panties down your legs, letting them sit at your knees as he widened your legs for him, a cool air washing over your dripping core. His fingers fumbled with his pants, undoing them just enough to pull his hard cock free. “This time, you can make as much noise as you want.” His tip prodded at your entrance, dragging through the wetness leaking from you and soaking himself. “Tell them all who’s fucking you.”

He thrust forward, filling you in one swift movement and your body jolted forwards, your knuckles turning white in their grip as you tried to hold yourself to the sink. A long moan left your lips as he settled within you, letting you adjust. His fingers wrapped in your hair, clearing it from your face so he could see you in the mirror, and your eyes found his over your shoulder in the reflection. He pulled back, snapping into you just as quickly and a cry left your lips, pleasure surging through you.

Your walls stretched around him, fluttering and hugging his length, a grunt leaving him as he set a brutal pace, his hips snapping into yours. His hand pulled on your hair, keeping your head up and eyes locked on his, the cheeky expression doing nothing but further your joy. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, your moans echoing loudly from the walls of the stall and he only increased his pace, your eyes rolling back in your head.

“Come on, princess, tell them all whose cock is filling you up right now.”

“Stiles!” Your voice was high, and he grinned, fingers slipping around your front to rub at your nub as your body jerked at the sudden stimulation, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. Your eyes were shut, your jaw dropped open as he fucked the breath straight out of your lungs, fingers holding into you with such passion that you were sure there would be fingermarks there in the morning, and the idea only thrilled you more. Your body fell forward, his arms snaking around your waist to catch you the front of your hips met the cold surface of the sink.

Your cheek met the glass of the mirror, breath fogging up the glass as his hands found the wall beside you, hips losing rhythm as he continued pounding into you rapidly. When one hand slipped down to tug down the front of your dress, your breasts spilling free and his fingers found your nipples, tugging at the hardened peaks and throwing you over the edge.

Juices splattered around his cock, a groan leaving his lips as your walls sealed around him tightly, your arousal dripping down your thighs as you screamed out his name, your hand shakily coming up to rest over his one the wall as he fucked you through your climax. You were seeing stars, colours exploding behind your eyes as you rode through the best orgasm of your life. When he pulled out of you, his hand was working over himself quickly, your head still spinning as he dragged himself to his peak.

You dropped on wobbly legs to your knees, your lips wrapping around his cock and his body twitched in surprise as he looked down at you. His hand left himself, threading through your hair and easing your burning scalp, holding your hair more gently this time as your tongue worked over him, cheeks hollowing. His seed coated your senses in hot and salty streams, and you lapped at everything he gave, swallowing around his sensitive cock as he whimpered, falling forwards in your grasp.

Your movements came to a stop, his cock falling from your lips with a ‘pop’ and he held a hand out to you, weak body pulling you to your feet. He leaned down, tugging your panties back up your slick legs and adjusting your dress, before tucking himself back into his boxers. His jeans hung open, belt still hanging from the loops.

You leaned your head on his shoulder, a dopey smile on your face his arms wrapped around you, lips pressing soft kisses to your temple. Your hands moved between the two of you and tugged up his zipper, fastening the button and leaving the belt undone. “That was incredible.” The words fell from your lips and he laughed gently, pushing you back just enough to capture your lips in a loving kiss.

“I know. I’m glad you liked it, though.”

“How could I not? That was the best sex we’ve ever had. That was the best sex anyone has ever had, ever.” You teased, a slight heat rising to his cheeks at your comments.

“I’m not quite done with you yet. C’mon.” His fingers laced with yours, tugging you from the bathrooms, and towards the table, your friend’s knowing eyes on you both. You navigated through the crowds, the excitement filling your veins was overwhelming, your body was hot and you wanted nothing more than to tear the clothes from your body. The cool breeze of the night sky outside did little to cool your skin, washing over you in waves and yet you still felt breathless, your heart racing in your chest.

You were dazed, and the sound of the jeep being unlocked from the distance the pair of you were at snapped you back into focus. Glancing around yourself, warm honey eyes were watching you as his fingers, laced delicately with your own, tugged you quickly towards the vehicle.

His smirk was wide, and you bit your lip to suppress the sound in your throat that threatened to release, which only spurred him on more. With a jolt on your connected limbs, he sent you tumbling into his side as you stumbled over your own feet, his hands finding your waist as he held you steady.

“You look lost, sweetheart. Did I just fuck all the common sense straight outta’ you?” He teased, licking over his lips and walking you backwards the last few steps, until your back met the chilled metal of the blue jeep. His nose nuzzled along your jaw before coming up to your ear, nipping lightly at it. “How’re you feeling?” The words were whispered, hot breath fanning over your skin and sending shockwaves across you, your back arching up into his chest as you finally let yourself whimper into his ear, a wet kiss being placed to your cheek.

“Like I need cum again, soon. Please give me what I need, Stiles. I need it. Now.” He let out a ragged breath against your skin, his fingers fumbling along the side of the vehicle as he nodded, cheeks flushed as he pulled back to look at you, equally as breathless as he was. He moved out from before you, opening the driver’s door and hopping in quickly. Your hand reached across him, tugging the lever on the side of the chair up swiftly and the leather seat groaned as it fell backwards, his body going with it, a yelp leaving his lips at the action.

Pushing yourself up, you straddled his lap in the chair, pulling the door shut behind you and a groan left his lips when you rolled your hips down into his, grinding against his already semi-hard cock. His hands slipped up to find your hips as your mouth worked along his jaw, nipping and sucking at the taut skin, fingers playing with the buttons of his flannel.

“Here? Really?” He tried to tease, to let out a chuckle, but it morphed into another moan as your fingers scratched across his chest through the material. You were swiftly tugging up the material of his top, pushing it over his head and discarding it to the backseat so you could kiss further down his chest, moving as far back as you could until your back was pressed against the wheel, and he propped himself up on his elbows to watch you play with his jeans and belt once again.

The windows were beginning to fog up, the heat in the jeep overwhelming and his steady fingers replaced your frantic and shaking ones, popping the button and tearing the zipper down. He was painfully hard against the confines of his boxers, tented and a wet patch pooling with precum. You snapped the elastic against him, an aggravated moan falling from his lips at the action and his eyes found yours as his glare held no strength. “Don’t tease me, baby.”

“You teased me.” You retorted, repeating the action as a growl fell from his lips. Without warning, his hand slid along your thigh, pressing harshly to your clit through your panties, no movement, but the pressure alone so suddenly caused you to jump, a whine leaving your lips as you tried to move your hips for friction, but his digit stayed still, bringing you more longing and less pleasure, a sigh falling from your lips as you caved. “Stiles!”

He chuckled at your desperation, pulling his touch away from you entirely, before he was pushing the sodden lace to the side, the fabric burning against your skin slightly as he eased two fingers through your slick folds. “What do you need, princess?”

“This.” You mumbled, cupping him through his boxers and a needy moan left him at the contact, his hips bucking up into you as he nodded.

“Fuck, you got it. Whatever you want, baby.” His words trailed off as he gasped, his fingers easing into your core to stretch you out as you pulled him from his boxers, the elastic pushing against his base as you pulled him out just enough to free his pulsating cock, precum once again dribbling from the swollen and red tip. He pulled his fingers from you, sucking them into his mouth with a smirk and your fist moving over his shaft faltered at the action, your eyes widening as you looked at him.

He wiggled his hips below you, getting himself comfortable as you dragged the throbbing head to your glistening hole, teasing both of you for just a moment, before a growl left him and his hands found your hips.

“Sit your pretty little pussy on my cock before I drag you from this jeep and bend you over the hood for everyone to see.” A loud moan of his name fell from your lips as you happily seated yourself down onto him, a grunt leaving him as your walls clenched around him, unused to the feeling of him from this angle.

Your fingernails dug crescent moon shapes into the pale skin of his chest as you felt his heart thud under your palm, beating rapidly and aggressively. Rocking your hips down, you tested how you felt, never having had any control in this situation before and you quite liked the idea of it. The fingers sitting on your hips flexed as he gripped you tightly, bunching up the material of your dress as he formed fists at the slow motions you were making.

“C’mon, princess, don’t tease me.” You grinned down at him, adjusting yourself slightly until you were able to pick up more of a pace, your jaw dropping at each place he was able to tap inside of you as you rose and fell onto his dick, happily pleasing yourself as he bucked up slightly to meet your motions. You were setting a steady rhythm, your hips slamming with his as each of you moved, your nails leaving scratches on his chest as they raked at his skin, his own hands pawing at your tits and ass as he encouraged your movements, the vehicle squeaking slightly as it rocked angrily in its spot.

The combined sounds of your moans were filling his ears, your name leaving his mouth in growls and grunts as he spiralled with you toward your edge, and you squealed happily as you fell forward and into his chest. Your lips found his in a wet mess of tongues and lips as you kissed sloppy, mouths pressed together and tongues playing as you panted and whispered pleas and begs to one another.

The heat in the car was almost suffocating, the windows dripping with condensation and with one particularly hard thrust into you from Stiles, a scream left you, your eyes rolling back as he chuckled darkly and repeated the action. Your body was on fire, your muscles tight as your orgasm crept through you until it was exploding behind your eyes. You reached out, limbs shaking as you came around him hard, one of your hands smearing across the foggy window as the other ripped at the chair behind him, your body trembling above him and he cried out as your walls clamped around him.

Hot strings of cum shot from his tip and coating your walls, filling you to the brim as your eyes rolled back at the feeling, his thrusts slowing as he slowed his movements to a halt, his cock still sitting snugly inside you. “Holy shit, princess.” He was breathless, a dopey smile on his face as you collapsed onto his bare chest, a weak laugh leaving you as you kissed at his slightly sweaty skin.

“‘Holy shit’ me? Holy shit, you, Sti.” You snuggly against him happily, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips as his hand found your hips. His cock was softening within you, and you knelt up, holding your dress, up as you kneeled above him, his half-hard member slipping from you as the mixture of your two juices ran down the insides of your legs.

He let out a choked noise, and your eyes snapped up to his to see him watching fixedly as your core still clenched and unclenched at the absence, his arousal dripping from you, and his cock twitched just from the sight. With a groan, he tucked himself into his boxers, zipping up his jeans but leaving them unbuttoned and belt loose as he became preoccupied with scooping the fluids that were trailing along your quivering legs up for you to see.

“Open wide for me, baby.” Your jaw dropped on command, and he beamed cheekily as he pushed his fingers between your lips, your tongue swirling around the skinny digits to clean them as you hummed, lapping at your combined essence happily. “God, you’re so perfect.”

You winked at him as his fingers left yours with a ‘pop’, and his hand closed over your cheek, pulling your face down so he could peck at your lips gently, a smile pulling on his features as your body tried to steady your breathing. Reaching down beside his seat, you pulled on the trigger, his body coming up to meet yours as his chair came up its normal position, your chests pressing together as he held you tightly. “So, where did all that come from?”

His cheeks flushed as he pulled away to look at you, jaw parting slightly and he cleared his throat, avoiding your gaze. “I just love you a lot, and I wanted to make you happy.”

“I’m always happy when I’m with you, Stiles. You didn’t have to go to any extra measures.” You whispered, your node bumping against his as you smoothed out the skirt of your dress, reaching past him to claim his shirt from the backseat of the car from him.

“Actually.. this was incredible, and if you liked it, I would definitely like to keep it up.” He mumbled, tugging the fabric over his head as you giggled, letting him press a series of kisses to your cheeks and nose.

“I loved it. We can definitely keep it up, but only on one condition.” He raised a brow at you, a small smirk taking over his features as he titled his head to the side in question, running a hand through his hair as he watched you collapse into the passenger seat beside him with a grin. “I want to go home and cuddle. I missed you, and I’m tired, and I really want some food.”

“How about you stay the night at mine, and we watch Star Wars and order pizza?”

“There’s a very definite reason you have my heart, Stiles Stilinski.” You cupped his face, bringing his lips to yours as he hummed happily at the contact. “We should leave before everyone comes out of the bar and finds the car looking like we hot-boxed it without them.”

He chuckled at your words, nodding in agreement as he fished into his pocket for his keys, pushing them into the ignition and twisting to turn the car on. Leaning forward, he wiped a large hand over the foggy windscreen, clearing the steam you had both created away, and he jumped with a curse as he caught sight of the group standing in the shine of the headlights before the car. “Oh, busted.”

Your brows furrowed as you looked at him, before following his gaze out of the window, a low scream leaving your lips and your hands came up to cover your face as you groaned in embarrassment. With a knock on the window, Stiles rolled it down, a coy smirk on his lips as Malia handed him your bag and jumper, the chuckles of your friends ringing in your ears, and the hoots and hollers from the boys outside sounding loud too as they congratulated Stiles.

He turned to look at you, his eyes sparkling with familiar mischief as he put the car into gear, his hand finding your thigh as he began the drive home, excitement coursing through the both of you at your new discoveries, and what you would try next time.

[novelconcepts]

fic: something to hang on to

When Jamie buys a camera, she isn’t really thinking about it. They’re driving through Virginia, stopped off at a little gas station; Dani’s outside filling the rental Jeep, which puts Jamie on snack-duty. At the counter, she spots a display of disposable cameras and, almost without thinking, adds one to the pile of sugar and caffeine. It isn’t a plan. Isn’t for any particular reason. 

Dani, pawing through the plastic bag of their spoils, raises it from a mess of M&Ms and Pringles and says, “You like photography?” She asks it the way she asks everything, like every little detail she learns about Jamie is another brand-new color added to the shine of the world. Jamie shrugs. 

“Never was much for it, but this brave new land is pretty enough. Don’t mind keeping track of it for later.”

It’s more than that, she thinks as Dani raises the viewfinder to her eye and clicks a photo of Jamie behind the wheel, one hand steering, the other stretching across the center console to rest on Dani’s knee. I almost lost you once, Poppins. Wouldn’t have had anything but my own memory to remember you by. This...this will help. 

Later, much later, years later, Jamie will look back on that moment as one of her wisest. Later, on a bed she can no longer sleep in, holding a thick album between shaking hands, she’ll think some of the most important choices you ever make are split-second recklessness. A camera, tossed in at the last second. A habit, built on nothing more than needing Dani’s smile immortalized. 

Open the album. Take a breath. Flip the page. 

***

A photo: Dani sprawled on a red-and-white beach towel, chin propped on folded arms, gazing out away from the camera as though she has no idea anyone is watching.

They’re with Henry and the kids--the first time they’ve seen the Wingrave family since the events at the house, and, though they don’t know it, one of the last times they’ll see them all together--in Florida. It’s strange, Jamie reflects, watching Miles chase Flora across an endless strip of sand. Strange how much world can fit into one country. England was green, rolling with hill and fog and haunted by things older than any of them can imagine. Florida feels...young, somehow. Too warm, too bright, too perfect on a Saturday afternoon. 

She’s hugging her knees, seated on a blanket with Dani sitting just an inch further away than she’d like. It’s the safe thing, the smart thing, but she misses her--misses the way they sit in hotel rooms and empty bars, knees touching, pinkies overlapping. Dani, in a sundress that matches the blue of her right eye, is laughing as Miles grabs Flora around the middle and tries with all his ten-year-old strength to hoist her off the ground. 

“Miles,” Henry calls, his voice laden with the anxiety of a man who has only just begun learning how to parent. “Miles, be careful--”

“They’re all right,” Jamie interrupts, tossing a handful of warm sand toward Henry’s precarious perch on a plastic chair. "Have you been wound this tight the whole fucking time?”

He looks pained. “You’ll excuse me for never having raised two children before. They’ve been a bit...”

“Precocious?” Dani suggests brightly. 

“Demonic?” Jamie says at the same time. Henry sighs. 

“Adventurous, shall we say, to meet in the middle.”

“They haven’t been...” Dani’s smiling, the way Jamie has grown accustomed to over the last few months: a beautiful smile that never entirely reaches her eyes. It’s the way she smiles when she thinks she needs to wear a mask of stability, when she needs everyone to think she’s doing all right. 

Henry frowns. “Haven’t been what?”

Dani shrugs, looking uncomfortable. “Scared? Having nightmares? I don’t know...”

She’s asking-not-asking about that night, like she told Jamie she wasn’t going to do. They don’t need me bringing it up, she’d said back at the hotel, holding tight to Jamie in a way that said she very much needed to talk about this against her own will. They deserve to just live their lives. 

Henry looks puzzled. “Strange, but no. No nightmares. Flora had a few at the very start, before we left London, but...no. Not since arriving here.”

Dani nods like this is all she wants to hear, and rubs her cheek with one slightly-sunburnt hand, the moment passing into obscurity as Flora shrieks and Miles trips directly into an oncoming wave. It’s all good here, all sunshine and ease of temper, and Jamie watches Henry stand. Brush off shorts that look truly insane set against his pale legs. Go awkward-jogging into the surf to lift a giggling Flora heavenward. 

“They make a fine little family,” she says, pitching her voice so only Dani can hear. Dani nods. There’s a tightness to her mouth that says she’s only half here, only half able to let the sun bake away the shadows. Jamie touches her ankle lightly, wishing they were somewhere less requiring of distance. 

“I’m all right,” Dani says. Not a lie of intent, at least, though Jamie suspects it’s more that she wants to be all right. She watches Dani roll onto her front, eyes on the endless ocean, the children tumbling around in its gentle grasp, the man doing his best to keep up. 

Could watch her forever, Jamie thinks, knowing it’s far too early to say something so catastrophically huge. She’s been having these thoughts more and more, wild notions of turning this brand-new adventure with Dani into a lifetime event. It turns a key somewhere deep within her chest, some far-off engine making a deep rumbling sound that sends her tripping toward a very real, very powerful feeling of terror. 

Her hand slips toward the bag of sunscreen, paperback novels, sliced oranges. A camera, small and yellow and used mainly in moments like this one, emerges. Dani never notices as she brings it to her eye, frames Dani’s blonde ponytail and sun-pink skin, snaps a photo. 

Later, when the pictures are developed and spread out across a hotel bedspread, shots of Miles with an orange-peel grin and Flora standing before a monster of a sandcastle intercut with Dani’s far-off pensive expression, Dani will touch the print. Lingeringly, fingers trembling just the slightest bit.

“Why this one?”

Because I loved you more than words could capture, Jamie will know it’s far too early to say. It’d be reckless. It’d be testing the bounds of something still fragile, still one-day-at-a-time hopeful. 

“Why not?” she’ll say, and tuck the photo safely back into its sleeve. 

***

A photo: Jamie and Dani, backs to the freshly painted Leafling sign, standing carefully apart with shoulders back and a small bouquet of flowers clutched in Dani’s hands.

They keep to themselves, mainly, but some of the nearby shopkeepers have been kind as The Leafling goes from mad late-night concept to brick-and-mortar reality. They bring welcome-to-the-block plants and casseroles that are mostly-edible, and Dani accepts each one with true Midwestern courtesy. Jamie leans back, watches the art of neighborly behavior being painted before her eyes: older women who compliment Dani on her earrings, young men bullied into helping move heavy boxes into storage by their mothers. Dani, in the middle of it all, wearing a soft pastel sweater and a smile that has finally remembered its own strength. 

She wasn’t sure how this would go, if Jamie’s honest about it. She’s been telling Dani not to worry for weeks, telling Dani they don’t need to know much about a business to run this one. I grow, you arrange, we make out like bandits with all the nice Americans who value pretty things. It’ll be perfect, Poppins. She’s been saying it, and she thinks she even believes her own words most of the time, but there have been dreams. Anxiety running its red thread through her sleep, telling her she has no skill in this arena, no education to speak of, no idea how to survive in American business while hiding her relationship with her “business partner”. 

The day the shop finally opens, Jamie has been saying “it’s going to be great” for so long, she almost surprises herself by rushing into the bathroom and vomiting into the toilet. Dani, expression warm and just the tiniest bit teasing, leans against the doorframe.

“You all right?”

“Perfect,” Jamie gasps, staggering to the sink and thrusting a toothbrush into her mouth. “Jus’ great.”

“Too late to turn back now,” Dani points out. “What would we do with all the business cards?”

Jamie groans, spitting mint foam and rinsing out her mouth. “You could show just the slightest bit less glee, Poppins. I’ve just run us into a brick wall of imminent failure.”

Dani laughs, coming up behind her to hug her tight around the middle. “We should probably at least unlock the doors for the first time before you decide it’s time to shutter them again.”

She’s good today, Jamie senses--not the fake-good where she tries her best to pretend she isn’t listening for some deep-down movement Jamie can’t register, but truly happy. Her body is relaxed, her hands certain as she tips Jamie’s cheek and kisses her calm. 

“How,” Jamie gasps when they break, “are you not out of your bloody mind right now?”

Dani shrugs. “It’s like the first day of school. Spend all summer planning and worrying, but now it’s happening. Just gotta jump in.”

There are already people waiting when they arrive, to Jamie’s mingled horror and delight. Most of them are their fellow shopkeepers, waiting with the brilliant smiles of people who have already lived this particular nightmare themselves, and just want to pay forward the relief of customers actually turning up. They’re kind, these people--they don’t know Jamie in the least, don’t have the first idea what shadows lurk behind Dani’s eyes, but they take their hands, squeeze, and congratulate them all the same. Jamie thinks they even mean it, most of them. Americans are complicated, boisterous, scandalous people--but they can have such heart. 

One woman, old enough to be Jamie’s grandmother, presses a bouquet of peonies against Dani’s chest. “For luck,” she says croakily, patting Dani’s cheek like she’s known her since Dani was three feet tall. “Dry ‘em, hang ‘em somewhere in the back. Remember we’re all rooting for you.”

“Rooting,” a man who owns a nearby pizzeria hoots. “Good one, Carol!”

Jamie almost rolls her eyes, but Dani is beaming. When the others make flapping get in front of the sign gestures, they can’t help but obey, standing with a perfectly-maintained half-person between their shoulders. She wants so badly to reach over, to take Dani’s hand, to kiss her with all the terror and relief she’d never known she could feel at once. Instead, she smiles as professionally as she knows how for the camera someone produces. It’s enough.

Later, tapping a finger against the print the photographer drops on their counter, Jamie says, “Look like I want to pass out.”

Dani glances toward the window, takes note of the empty street, presses a quick kiss to her cheek. “I’d have caught you.”

***

A photo: Jamie, sitting just behind Dani on a plush couch, arm wrapped around her waist, cheek pressed to flyaway blonde hair. Dani, grinning her widest, cheesiest grin, leaning back like she knows there is no world in which Jamie would ever let her fall.

There are parties, occasionally--usually thrown by other under-the-radar couples they get along with well enough for drinks, not so much that they truly build relationships. They like the quiet life, the two-person road trips, the easy silence after a long day. But, sometimes, life is grand and big and loud, and on those nights, they venture out into the world.

There are a pair of men maybe five years their senior who have been together for “a decade”, if you ask Mike, “a century”, if it’s Paul telling the tale. They’re good people, and their home is a safe space Jamie doesn’t anticipate finding. 

Friends are hard, she thinks. Always were, but they’re so much harder once you’ve lost a couple.

Still: when Mike and Paul are set to celebrate a round ten years together (”An eternity,” Paul clarifies, leaning against the Leafling counter to invite them over), they go. Dani wants to, and it’s good seeing Dani want things like this. It’s been almost a year together, almost a year of exploring the map and one another, and Dani’s been getting softer around the edges, less prone to jumping at shadows. The Dani Clayton of a year ago wouldn’t want to attend parties, lest the beast inside leap while her guard is lowered; the Dani Clayton of tonight is holding up a dark green dress, brow furrowed. 

“Too much?”

Jamie hums a moment to buy herself time. “Depends.”

“On?”

“Whether you’d like to actually leave the house tonight.” Jamie wiggles her eyebrows, buttoning a black shirt and searching for a good pair of suspenders. Dani laughs. 

“I think you can keep your hands to yourself for a few hours.”

“You,” Jamie points out, sidling up behind her and kissing her neck, “have always had entirely too much faith in me, Poppins.”

Dani is, however, a woman of her word when it comes to accepting social invitations, and soon they’re sitting on an exceptionally soft couch in an exceptionally loud living room. Jamie glances around, reading the environment, registering the two women holding hands by the coffee table, the men dancing near the kitchen, the way even the male-female pairs seem not to see anything odd. Mike and Paul have been doing this a long time. This is as safe a space as their own home. 

She likes the way Dani relaxes, a little more with every drink tucked into her hand, a little more with a lit cigarette pulled from Jamie’s, a little more still when Mike nudges her and mutters, “Your girl looks good tonight, Clayton.”

She likes, most of all, the way Dani doesn’t flinch away when a Polaroid comes out. These are good people, brave people, smart people. If there are photos taken tonight, they will be pressed straight into the hands of their subjects, gifted away before the chemicals have even processed. 

Dani presses back against her, seated on her lap, laughing at some joke Jamie hasn’t really been paying attention to. She’s too busy watching Dani’s profile, the way her head tips back when she’s really laughing, too hard to care what she looks like. Too busy reveling in how it feels to hold Dani in a setting so much more public than usual, her fingers stroking the soft material of Dani’s dress, her body burning and the most comfortable it’s ever been. 

Later, with the Polaroid on the nightstand, the green dress on the floor, and a sheet tucked up against the fall chill, Dani says, “We should do that more.”

Jamie chuckles against her shoulder, kissing a patch of freckles. “This?”

“Yes.” Dani wriggles a little, giggling. “But also that.” She’s gesturing to the photo, propped between a lamp and copy of some old Shirley Jackson novel. “It was nice, wasn’t it? Not...”

“Hiding,” Jamie supplies. Dani makes a humming noise soft in her throat. 

“I like not hiding you.”

***

A photo: Dani, eyes dark with a smolder only Jamie ever sees, a cigarette between her lips, hair loose around her shoulders. 

Nights spent home with Dani, nights where there are no groceries to pick up, no accounting to be done, no errands waiting to be noticed, are Jamie’s absolute favorite thing in the world. There’s just something about this sense of home they’ve been building together, this sense of locked door and secured window and no one else invited to partake that gets Jamie the way nothing else does. 

Especially Dani. Dani at home is less reserved, less careful. With every month that passes quietly, no sign of anything but her own mind, Dani gets a little less tight. A little less prone to gazing off into the middle distance. A little less likely to disappear from an otherwise-normal conversation, emerging several minutes later like she’s pulling herself out of a dream.

And, some nights, she’s not just here--she’s utterly present, every atom of her tuned to Jamie like they have no need of space between them, no need of separation. These nights, the nights where Dani strides into the room on a mission, are Jamie’s favorite of all. 

“Why,” Dani says, leaning back in a kitchen chair with legs spread and head tilted to exhale smoke toward the ceiling, “are you looking at me like that?”

“Me?” Jamie teases. “You’re the one gazing at me like I’m some terribly interesting new buffet.”

She’s half-joking, but there’s something about the way Dani looks at her on this very particular sort of night, with every line of her body tuned toward Jamie’s, that makes her feel a stupid kind of brave. A reckless kind of excitement unwinds outward, until her fingertips itch to grab at Dani’s hair, her knees weak with the desire to pull Dani close. 

She’s doing it now, smoking that cigarette with all the languid energy of a woman perfectly at home, watching Jamie with a faint smirk playing around her lips. No one else sees that smirk, Jamie understands, and it makes her a little faint every time she thinks it. To have something of Dani, some integral comfortable part of Dani that belongs solely to their apartment, their life together, is still a good fortune Jamie can’t entirely parse out. 

Her hand moves toward the camera, small and plastic and containing some of the best memories of Dani she desperately needs to keep. Dani lets her snap off a shot, shakes her head when Jamie lowers the camera.

“That’s going to be one of yours.”

She says it every time Jamie tries to capture the white-hot energy of this kind of evening. Dani doesn’t like to see herself through this particular lens, gets fidgety and embarrassed at the sight of her own face etched with such a confident hunger. Jamie asked the first time if Dani wanted her to stop taking the photos altogether, and Dani had shaken her head.

“I don’t mind. But they’re yours, okay?”

She sets the camera aside, moving to take the cigarette out of Dani’s hand, taking a long drag and dropping it in an ashtray. The rest doesn’t need anything in the way--no lens, no embarrassment, nothing but the way Dani’s mouth opens beneath hers, hands already roaming. The rest is not Jamie’s, but theirs, a joint ownership of soft moans and soft skin and soft assurances that this is still, always, home. 

Later, with Dani asleep, one hand thrown loosely over Jamie’s hip, Jamie will look at the photos that are hers and hers alone. Dani, mouth wet and swollen from a night spent confined to their bedroom around their anniversary. Dani, grinning and half-asleep, glancing over her shoulder to coax Jamie into putting the camera down, joining her among the blankets. Dani, smoke-haze around her face, wine glass in her hand, looking just past the camera at Jamie’s own desire. 

Dani’s choice to share a life with her, Dani’s decision to share every inch of herself with Jamie, is more than Jamie feels anyone deserves. 

***

A photo: Dani in front of the Eiffel Tower, sunglasses on, arms spread wide.

A photo: Dani kneeling at the Grand Canyon, gesturing bewilderment at the sheer scope of the place.

A photo: Dani standing before the alleged largest ball of twine in the world, looking rather like she regrets letting Jamie pick the destination this time.

They travel until Dani can’t stomach it anymore, can’t take the uncertainty of unknown roads and unmapped hotel beds--but, first, years of travel. Years of postcards and rental cars, of Jamie turning maps upside down and Dani being shockingly savvy in small-town situations. 

These photos, more than any other, feel like they have to be taken for someone else’s idea of posterity, and Jamie feels a little strange, at first. Dani’s already seen much of Europe by the time they meet, and has no photos whatsoever to show for it. Jamie, who started turning up in photos for the first time as an adult, says, “It’ll be good to show ‘em off,” while never quite bringing herself to the edge of an unspoken follow-up question: to whom, exactly? It isn’t as though she and Dani are having children, isn’t as though there will be grandkids tottering around down the line to tune out their stories. Who, exactly, are these mementos for?

Dani is far too kind, far too pragmatic, to put the question to her. Dani only poses, grins, lets Jamie take all the pictures she wants, and then--camera tucked safely away once more--grabs Jamie’s hands and leads her into living it: the food, the outdoor markets, the snowstorms, the sun-kissed hikes. As the years go by, Jamie takes more and more photos, never quite able to explain to herself why it’s so critical. Never quite able to look away when Dani finally covers the lens with one hand and brings her close, kissing her like it’s the first time. 

They stop looking at these photos together, after a while. Stop trying so hard to go back, as the days grow shorter and the exhaustion begins to steal the warmth from Dani’s smile. At first, it’s about moving forward--always one foot in front of the other. At first, every photo taken is set aside as a gift to another life. And then, finally, it’s about the moment they’re in, nothing more. Jamie sets the camera on a shelf. Refuses to look at Dani through any barrier but her own two eyes. Dani doesn’t like the snap-click of the camera anymore, anyway--each time, she flinches, like Jamie is about to show her a glimpse of whatever horror she’s been seeing in the mirror. 

I only see you, Jamie promises, the ache in her chest so great, she’s sure it will swallow them both. But Dani can’t bring herself to look. Can’t bring herself, just in case Jamie is wrong. 

Later--so much later, with eyes stinging and arms empty--she flips through the album and remembers Spain, California, Minnesota, Greece. Later, she finds Dani sticking her tongue out, spinning like a deranged nun out of musical, sitting quietly in a cafe with a small cup of coffee warming her hands. Dani, stiff-shouldered and trying not to laugh as Jamie made faces the one time they ever ventured back to Iowa. Dani, hair blowing back into her face, arms looped around Jamie at a terrifying, exhilarating first Pride parade. 

And, in the back, the photos of Dani as only Jamie knew her. The sly grin a second before pinning Jamie to the couch. The sweet surprise from Jamie coming home early with dinner. Shot after shot of no make-up, or smudged eyeliner, or ruined lipstick, of Dani in pajamas on Christmas, or Dani in bed after a shower, or Dani laughing herself silly at nothing Jamie can remember now. 

They’re all here, and they’re all Dani--all of Dani Jamie’s got left now--and still, they’re wrong. They sit, plastic and unyielding, beneath flimsy protective sheets, and they don’t laugh like Dani, don’t breathe out against her skin like Dani, don’t smell like Dani’s shampoo or swear like Dani tripping over a shoe in the dark or look at her with that solid, palpable love like Dani did and should still and never will again. 

Jamie sits, album in her lap, staring down at Dani with paint smudged on her cheek and their then-new bedroom behind her, and suddenly can’t remember how to breathe. Had she known? Somewhere in the back of her mind that day in a gas station, picking up a little yellow disposable camera, had she known that one day, this would be all she had left of Dani? Surely not. Surely, she hadn’t believed it would go this way, all the way back then. Surely, it was one day at a time, and we’ll have time, and any day with you, Poppins. 

Had she known? No. No, of course she hadn’t.

And yet, the idea of not having these in front of her--the idea of Dani’s face slowly, surely, washing away over time as Jamie fails to find her in a world so uncompromisingly cruel...

She touches a shot of Dani with her left hand covering her mouth, her ring gleaming gold against her smile, the day the state had legalized civil unions. Dani as gold as sunshine, in one of the last truly clean moments, before old ghost stories dug rotting fingers into their life. Her vision grays, her head suddenly too heavy to hold up. 

She hadn’t known. But she’s glad. She’s glad she has, at least, this much to hang on to.

[yeosangsleftbicep]

sand, salt, and tears

series information:

pairing: Johnny x reader, Jaehyun x reader

summary: You have a boring job at the beach for the summer, but one day your life is spiced up after meeting a handsome lifeguard named Johnny and all of his friends.

genre: lifeguard au, summertime romance

warnings/themes: alcohol, drugs, (eventually maybe) smut, fluff, second-lead syndrome (?), angst, love-triangles, jealousy

"I’m here to help, you’re gonna be okay."

Ch.1

warnings: blood (small injury), swearing

word count: 2.1k

next chapter >>

You never intended for the summer between your sophomore and junior years of college to be packed with hard work and stress. In fact, you thought that having a part-time job in a beach town would be quite the opposite. That it would be full of seasonal flings, sunburns, and plenty of time relaxing on the beach enjoying your sappy romance novels. Instead, your absolute bitch of a boss, Cindy, had you working 35 hours a week wiping tables and taking orders, sometimes even being a substitute bartender if it was a busy night. Luckily for you, your best friend Karina also decided to take the plunge into the world of summer waitressing with you, and the two of you had almost every shift together. But still, you would much rather be stretched out underneath the sun right now than punching your 100th order of the morning into the restaurant’s computer system. You sigh aloud at the thought of the salt water lapping at the shore, seagulls flapping around while the local surf rock station plays quietly on the radio in the sand next to you.

“Y/N!!” an obnoxious voice shouts, shaking you out of your seashore reverie. Your eyes refocus just in time to see Cindy storming towards you in anger, her eyes scrunched with a fury that only ever comes out when you’ve messed up. “You’ve been standing there for 2 minutes doing nothing,” she hisses through her teeth. “Pull yourself together. You only have a half hour left on your shift, and then you’re free to be as useless as you want.”

“Sorry,” you mumble under your breath, holding back a sarcastic retort to the last part of Cindy’s criticism. You punch the order into the system and sweep yourself back into the dining room to do rounds and check on the tables that you’ve already served food to.

---

True to her word, Cindy released you from hell 30 minutes later. As quickly as possible, you strip off your apron and change into one of your favorite blue bikinis in the employee bathroom, wanting to hit the beach as soon as possible. You find Karina waiting outside the restaurant in her white Jeep Wrangler, roof and doors removed for the warm summer weather. On the rare days when the two of you don’t share a shift, this is always your routine. Karina picks you up at the end of your 2 o’clock shift and drives the two of you to the beach where you spend the next four hours basking in the sun and body-boarding in the water.

Today is no different, and the two of you soon find yourselves spreading out your towels and slathering yourselves in sunscreen, preparing for an afternoon of the reason you truly came to the small beach town this summer: relaxing. After an hour or so of sunbathing and reading some rather spicy parts of your latest romance novel, you and Karina decide it’s time for a dip in the ocean. “Hey, Y/N, go check what the water temperature is so we can mentally prepare ourselves before turning into popsicles in the ocean,” Karina giggles, gesturing towards the nearest lifeguard stand. You nod in agreement and make your way over to the back of the tall white chair where information such as water temperature and high tide is usually posted. As you near the stand however, you notice that instead of temperatures and warnings, someone had written the words ‘Ask me!’ over the chalkboard.

You glance up at the lifeguard to try and catch their eye, but an umbrella has been propped sideways to block a northward wind, preventing you from being able to see the person sitting there. “Excuse me!” you shout, hand shielding your eyes from the sun as you make your way around to the front of the stand. “Is everything okay?” a gentle voice responds. The lifeguard, a rather lanky, handsome man with black hair brushing the top of his ears, leans over. “Everything’s fine,” you respond with a timid smile. “I was just wondering what the water temperature is?”

The man’s form visibly relaxes as he realizes that there was no emergency and you just wanted some information. “Oh! Yeah, the temperature is 67��,” the lifeguard responds.

“Okay, thank you!” you shout, turning away to walk back to where Karina was waiting.

“Wait! Are you planning on boarding at all?” he asks, forcing you to turn around. He glances over at Karina and the boogie boards lying on the sand next to her while she watches us.

“Um, yeah. Is that okay?” you respond, placing your hands on your hips.

“Of course, of course! You should just know that there’s some serious undertow and a pretty strong rip current in this area today. If you get pulled out just swim parallel to the beach to get back in or signal if you need help,” he smiles helpfully.

“Oh. Thanks, but I think I’ll be okay,” you nod. “I’ve been coming to this beach and boarding since I was a little kid.”

The lifeguard just shrugs and sits down, but you can feel his eyes on you and Karina as the two of you grab your boards and dive into the frigid waves. Unfortunately for you, the lifeguard was quite right about the strong currents, and you spent half of your time in the water struggling to not be dragged down the entire length of the beach. After about a half hour of unsuccessfully attempting to catch some waves, Karina sighs and starts to swim in. “Maybe tomorrow will be better conditions. Neither of us are working so we can be out here all day if you want,” she exclaims, always the optimist. “Ok,” you reply. “I’m going to stay out here a little longer and then head in. Do you mind taking my board?”

You un-velcro the strap from your wrist and push the board towards Karina for her to drag it onto the sand. As soon as you let go of the board, you begin to realize just how much you were relying on it to keep you afloat in the strong current, especially considering you aren’t in an area where you can touch the bottom. After just a couple of minutes of treading water, you decide to follow Karina’s idea and begin to swim towards the shore. Karina sees you making her way towards her, but she waves her hands and shouts, pointing to the ocean behind you. A quick glance tells you that there’s a massive wave just seconds away from crashing on your head. “Shit,”  you curse, turning around and bracing yourself to be pommeled. Had you been farther out, you might have been given the chance to dive under the wave as it crested, but you were in the exact area that, when the wave finally arrived, the only thing you could do was take a deep breath and hope for the best.

As the wave crashes around you and catches you in it’s white waters, you tuck your knees into your chest, feeling yourself bounce around, your shins catching the sharp shells and rocks being thrown around you. After what feels like forever, you finally resurface, gasping for breath and a little red-faced from the embarrassment of wiping out, but still alive. And yet, something felt weird. As you catalogue your surroundings, you notice that you are farther from the shore than you were when you went under. Much farther. You try to plant your feet on the sand beneath you, but instead begin to sink below the surface. Having been tired out from fighting the waves for the past hour, you begin to panic, forgetting everything that the lifeguard had just told you about swimming out of rip currents.

In your own panicking and splashing around, you fail to notice someone swimming towards you. Someone wearing red swimming trunks with a bright orange buoy tied around their waist. When the lifeguard finally reaches you, he grabs your wrist to place your hand on the float, causing you to scream out in surprise, still not realizing that someone was there to save you.

“Shhh, shhhh calm down it’s okay,” the lifeguard says, reaching for your hand again. “I’m here to help, you’re gonna be okay.”

You try your hardest to hold in your tears as you grip onto the lifeguard’s buoy, but you feel like you can barely breath from the panic that you just experienced. You squeeze the orange plastic so tightly that your knuckles turn white, something that the lifeguard is quick to notice. “You’re going to be okay,” he once again reassures you. “What’s your name?” he asks in a soothing voice.

After a few deep gasps, you’re able to get out, “Y/N.”

The man smiles. “Hi, Y/N. I’m Johnny. I’m going to get you back to solid ground, okay? But I’m going to need you to stay calm for me, okay? Or else it’s going to be a lot harder for me.”

Unable to respond, you just rapidly shake your head, eager to have your feet touching the earth again. Johnny places one of his hands on the other side of the buoy, and uses his right arm to begin towing you back towards the shore. In no time, the water grows lighter as you and Johnny cut through the water, eventually reaching an area where you can once again stand. “Are you okay?” he asks, turning towards you with a worried sound to his voice. You once again nod, embarrassed to meet his eyes and not trusting your voice to be stable if you spoke.

Johnny gives you a once over, his eyes lingering on your knee. You follow his gaze and notice that during the wave, a shell must have gashed your leg open, and a steady flow of blood is now streaming through the cut on your knee. “Why don’t you come up to my stand and let me check that out?” Johnny asks, although it comes out as more of a command. “O-Okay,” you whisper. He places a steadying hand on your back and guides you up the sand to where Karina is waiting for you. “Oh. My. God,” Karina shrieks, seeing the injury on your leg. “She’ll be fine,” Johnny comments to her. “I just want to clean and bandage the cut to make sure that it doesn’t get infected.”

He guides you to sit down on a foldable chair at the base of the lifeguard stand while he climbs up to get a medical kit. “This might sting a bit,” Johnny apologizes in advance, opening the bag to pull out an alcohol wipe. “It’s okay, I can handle it,” you grimace.

“Just like you said you can handle the ocean?” Johnny asks, looking up with a small grin. “Sorry, too soon.”

“For your information,” you begin. “I would ordinarily be able to deal with that wave, no problem. I just wasn’t ready.”

“Mm-hm. I’m sure,” Johnny nods sarcastically.

“Hey,” you frown. “You don’t know me well enough to be making fun of me- HOLY SHIT THAT HURTS!”

You glance down to see Johnny dabbing at the wound on your leg with the cleansing cloth. “Sorry,” he grimaces. “I did try to warn you.”

Johnny goes to wipe at the cut again, another wave of pain rolling over you. You involuntarily reach out to squeeze the closest thing, which happens to be Johnny’s bare back as he’s bent over your knee. “Jesus, woman,” Johnny swears, pulling away as your nails dig into his skin in pain. Your hands shoot up to cover your mouth. “I’m so sorry!” you squeak. He sucks air in quickly through his teeth as he glances over his shoulder to look at the scratches you left on him. “I normally have to buy someone a few drinks before I get them to mark me like that,” he chuckles, turning his attention back to your leg, which he begins to cover with a bandage.

Your cheeks color a bright red at the suggestive comment, although luckily Johnny doesn’t glance up at that moment to see your embarrassment.

“There. All done,” Johnny says, gently patting your knee and standing up. “The next time I tell you to watch out for the rip, listen to me,” he orders, raising an eyebrow at me. “Yessir,” you say seriously, giving him a sarcastic little salute. Johnny’s grins. “I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

“See you around, Johnny,” you respond, slowly limping your way back to Karina.

next chapter >>

a/n: Please like if you enjoyed it so I know whether to keep writing!

[pascal-istheway]

Kinktober Day 1

I was going to try to do Kinktober this year but may not be able to keep up with it all between wedding planning and shit. Anyways, Here’s day 1

Kink: Tit Fucking [18+]

Warning: NSFW

Pairing: Javier Pena X Fem!Reader

Zoe’s notes: I can totally picture Javi needing to watch himself in this way, so enjoy!

Word count: 2.3k

KINKTOBER 2021 MASTERLIST

You’d been working all day on a new lead. A sicario had been caught on tape disclosing a location of one of Pablo’s various labs. The only problem was the satellite connection wasn’t stable so of course, half the call was cut out and you had to do your best to try and fill in the blanks. 

You sat at your desk, hands weaved into your hair as you rested your head in frustration. Everyone else had already gone home, your partner, Agent Murphy, being one of the last to leave beside you. As far as you knew, you were alone. 

You sign in frustration, closing the file and grabbing your apartment keys from the top drawer of your desk before trudging off to catch a ride home. 

You hadn’t accounted for the fact that it was after midnight on a Tuesday and no cabs would be running this late, especially near the office of an American DEA agent. Could this day get any worse? 

Defeated, your feet carry you back inside as you mentally prepare for the roughest night sleep on the world’s shittiest couch known to man. But as your feet are slowly carrying you up the cold concrete steps, your other partner, Javi, comes barreling through the glass doors, clearly as frustrated as you were feeling earlier. 

“Oh, shit, uh sorry there partner,” he skidded to a halt in front of you, “did you forget something?”

“Yeah, no cabs run this late,” you laugh, feeling silly for not realizing how late it had been earlier, “was just going to crash on the couch in the break room but I-“

“Nonsense, I’ll drive,” he held his keys up, jingling them around his finger. 

You hop into his older model Jeep, pulling the door behind you and clicking your seatbelt across your lap. He heads off towards your building, which coincidentally, is the same one he lives in. 

Being one floor below him was nice. You had the security if needed. The downside was his late-night visitors. The informants he kept company with would keep you up into odd hours of the night. As if your job wasn’t already hard enough, try doing it with little to no sleep, pining for a man who is upstairs fucking another woman. 

He killed the engine in his usual spot, parking nose out as he always did. The night just felt like it was dragging and you couldn’t wait to slip under the covers and blackout for what few hours you had left. You were thankful though, tomorrow you had requested to take off and desperately needed the rest. 

You followed each other up the stairs, your footsteps amplified by your partner as they echoed in the stairwell. When you arrived at your door, you stopped, turning your keys over in your palm. 

“So I guess this is me,” you say at the same time Javi says, “do you want to come up for a drink?”

You stand there and smile, laughing awkwardly with him. He rubs the back of his neck, “I mean, if you’re tired, maybe another -“ 

You interrupt him, “Javi, I’d love to. But only if you have whiskey,” pushing past him, you start up the stairs, smirking at him over your shoulder because you know damn well all that man has in his place is whiskey. How many late nights had you spent together going through surveillance photos over a bottle and cheap takeout? 

“What do you think I am, an animal? Of course, I have whiskey,” he shouts after you and takes the steps two at a time to beat you to his door.

He unlocks it, letting you in first, and closes it behind you with a soft click. You look around, taking in the bachelor pad he has created for himself. It was messy and unkempt, just like you’d expect from someone like Javi. Empty bottles sat on the coffee table from last night’s game you assumed he watched with Murphy, some food leftover in a bowl on the side table.

His voice interrupted your thoughts when he asked, “usual with ice?”

“Hmm?” your head whipped around to see him holding two glasses with a dark amber liquid in them. 

“I asked if you wanted ice,” he smiled, handing you one of the glasses. You look down at the brown liquid swirling around the sides of the glass and smile.

“Oh. This is fine,” the glass feels cool as you bring it to your lips, letting the liquid sit on your tongue before sliding down your throat. Javi wasn’t one to spend a lot on the good stuff, not that you minded. He didn’t have to impress you by any means. And it’s not like you guys could afford the good shit on a DEA’s salary anyways. 

Javi watches with interest, his eyes tracking the way your throat moves slightly when you swallowed - the way your tongue swipes out after you take your sip. It makes his pulse quicken, and it wasn’t from his own drink. You could feel his eyes on you, scanning your body from top to bottom. 

His reputation around the embassy wasn’t unknown to you. Javier was a womanizer in the sense that his reputation with his informants went far beyond the occasional reward for a casual tip. 

It was true that he loved women and that they loved him in return, and they loved him often. But not just because he was a handsome DEA agent. No, they loved him for far more than his skills outside of the bedroom. 

“You were working awfully late Agent,” he jokes with you, knowing damn well that you always are one of the last to leave. 

“I could say the same for you, Javi,” you smile, taking another long sip from your glass, “you are normally out of there well before I am.” 

“I had something I was working on. The time got away from me I guess,” he stretched his arm above his head, his shirt poking up to reveal the slightest bit of his stomach. The beautifully tanned skin was peppered with hair leading down below his pants, something you noticed every time he did this in the office. 

“Let me guess, Sharon over in the records department?” you laugh at him. 

He pauses, squinting at you before joining in on the joke, “haha very funny…” 

“Sorry but for a guy like you…” your words trail off as he takes a few steps closer, his glass hanging down at his side now. 

“A guy like me, huh. And what exactly do you know about a guy like me, huh?” he whispers your name, eyes squinted as if he’s challenging you for more. 

You swallow, your stomach shrinking while your heart beats wildly in your chest. Your eyes meet and suddenly, you get an overwhelming heat that burns between your thighs. Shit maybe it was the alcohol talking, but this version of Javi was one you didn’t ever want to back down from. 

Smiling a crooked grin, you take another large sip from your glass, “I know all there is to know about guys like you, Pena…” your eyes slowly trailing down his body, “and I mean, all there is…” your finger reaches out, nail dragging itself down his chest from the left to the right before trailing lower. You finish your glass in one sip, never taking your eyes off him.

He takes a sharp inhale, tongue darting out to lick his lower lip. Your eyes immediately follow the shape of his lips. “Unless there’s something you think I still need to know…” words trailing off accepting the challenge he presented to you. He takes a step back, finishing the remainder of his glass and setting it down. In one swift motion, he grabs you, lips colliding with yours in a frenzied passion that overwhelms you. 

A moan escaped your lips as he grabbed you and hoisted you up on the counter, his lips finding their way to your neck and not so gently nibbling at the sensitive skin below your ear. His fingers threading through your hair as he moved it aside to get better access to your neck. 

“Javi, we -” you moan again as he bit down sharply, ignoring your protests. 

“I know,” he whispers, taking your head in his hands. You both reach for each other’s clothes, desperately trying to get out of them. 

“Javi….” you groan as he rips open your blouse, buttons flying in every direction.

“Bed,” he panted, picking you up and letting your thighs wrap around his waist. Your arms grasp around his neck and shoulders, clinging for life while your mouths never leave each other. He walks you blindly through his apartment like you’d assumed he’s done a thousand times before with however many women. But right here at this moment, you don’t care. 

He kicked open the door and tossed you on the bed, stripping each other’s clothes in record time. Kisses planted on every inch of your body as he crawled over you. His hand snakes up over your chest as he takes each breast in his palms, squeezing and pulling them in just the right way. 

“Jesus… could you be any more perfect?” he looks at you as he takes one in his mouth, tongue attacking the pebbled nipple, teeth ever so slightly scraping along the tip as he sucks and licks to a perfect peak. 

You moan, legs spreading wider underneath him. Your hands find their way into his dark hair, weaving your fingers through it and giving a gentle tug to pull his mouth back up to you. He leaves this small trail of kisses up your chest, following the curve of your neck and chin, before claiming your mouth again. He whispers your name into your mouth and you swallow it whole, tongues mixed in pleasure. 

You completely miss what he had asked over the sound of your own moaning. Sitting up, you look at him, eyes drunk with lust and whiskey, “wha?” is all you manage to get out. 

“Can I? Fuck them?” he palms your breasts again, breathing heavily as he watches his hands knead them in slow circles. Clearly, he has a thing for the perky breasts that you hide so well beneath your shirt. All you can do is nod slowly, mouth slightly agape. You’d never done anything like this before, so your movements were clumsy as he turned you slightly over the edge of the bed to where your head was hanging off the edge. 

You feel him spit into your cleavage before he unbuttons his pants, sliding them off to reveal the most exquisite cock you’d ever laid your eyes on. Eyes wide, you reach out and stroke him, seeing his knees buckle slightly at your touch. 

“Fu-fuck…” he groaned, looking down to where your hand was stroking him. Your eyes were just able to look past where he was standing on either side of your head to see him as he leaned over you and slipped his cock into your cleavage. 

“Hold your tits together, I want to feel them, baby…” he instructed, pushing them together with your hands in his. You hold them steady, kneading them ever so slightly as he slips his cock right in between them. His head drops forward and a loud sigh escapes from his mouth, eyes fluttering half-closed. 

You imagine what this must feel like for him as he pumps his hips in and out of your tits, watching him from this angle is absolutely erotic, something you never thought would turn you on this much. What you weren’t expecting was the feeling of his hand to find its way between your thighs, slipping under the soft fabric and between the folds to find your sweet center. 

His thick fingers found that small nub immediately, your core completely soaked with arousal that he didn’t even need to do much except take his hand and rub small circles. Your back arched as his fingers worked their magic, your chest pushing up into him as his hips flexed faster. Cock slapping against your chest, the sound echoing throughout his apartment. 

You moan as he slips a finger deep into your tight hole, then a second, curling them to hit that sweet spot in a matter of seconds. How he was able to find it so quickly, you’d never know but at this point, you didn’t care. He was magic with those hands. 

He pumped his fingers in and out to the rhythm of his hips, his balls slapping against your chest in tandem. You played with your breasts, massaging and kneading them in an attempt to massage his cock through them. The grunts he made just spurred you on, making your hips rise off the bed slightly and ride along with his hand. 

Pretty soon, you could feel his balls clenching close to his body, the sign of his explosion coming to a head. And it was really perfect timing because he was so close to getting you to a full-body orgasm. You could feel the muscles clenching in your abdomen, like tethers ready to snap one after another. 

Like a load under too much pressure, you did just that - you snap. An explosion of color erupts from your cunt, liquid flowing from you and down his hand as he swears and finally bursts over your chest, showering you with his own evidence. 

You both lay there, spent and completely useless, bodies sweaty and sticky. Eventually, Javi does get you something to clean yourself with, tossing it at your side. You manage to clean yourself and start to gather your clothes but as you sit up, you feel the bed dip and his arms snake around your waist, pulling you into his side. 

Drunkenly, you hear him whisper your name, “sshhh… just stay for tonight…” and who are you to deny him? After all, he did just give you the greatest orgasm you’ve had since you arrived in Colombia. 

[missdawnandherdusk]

Country Girl

Muggle!Reader X Draco 

London Boy

Summary: Draco has your heart and you have his, a muggle and a wizard, but what happens when you take him home... to America, to your very muggle parents, and your very muggle small town? 

A/n: As promised here is some ridiculous fluff and shenanigans between these two dorks. Also, this gets very southern very quickly, so as a disclaimer: none of this is meant to offend anyone at all, it’s just simple writing fun. I know a lot of you come to Tumblr to destress from the news, so this is free from current events and can even be seen written around circa 2010 if you want. I love you all and let me know what you think because I love being validated your comments and reblogs

“Um, do you maybe want to come with me back home?” The question was timid as it left my lips.

“To America?” He raised an eyebrow looking up from his workstation where he was currently brewing Amorentia—not that he used it, but it brought comfort to me and worked surpassingly well in a diffuser.

“To put it broadly, yes.” I smiled, knowing he had no idea how expansive America really was. “I’m off for the summer and my parents have been nagging me nonstop to meet you, and well it’s home,” Shrugging I hopped up on his desk and he eyed me warily, moving some things out of my way.

“How long?”

“Well I suppose you could apparate back any time you like, but...”

“How long?” He pressed again.

“A week?” I was almost afraid of his reaction.

Not that I was afraid of him, but I knew him well. He liked order. He like routine. Everything had a place and he preferred it if it stayed in that place. Which included him, in London.

“I understand if you don’t want to. I know it’s a lot. Muggle parents, Muggle girlfriend, America...” I trailed off looking down. “Just thought I’d offer.”

“Love,” he tilted my chin up. “If you want me to go with you to meet your parents, I suppose I can manage a week,” he smiled.

Happiness fluttered in my chest as I threw my arms around him.

“Careful dear,” he scolded, easily pulling me into his arms, carrying me. “This stuff takes forever to wear off and I’d rather not have you drugged for the next few hours.”

“Could be fun,” I giggled, nuzzling into his neck.

“You say that now,” he chided, a smile evident on his face. 

_____________________________

“Now, they don’t know that you’re a wiz,” You reminded him. “And I’d rather not have to obliviate my parents, so if you could— “

“You act like I’m a teenager Y/n, I’m not stupid,” Draco rolled his eyes. 

You raised an eyebrow at him. A challenge.

“And, a very fair warning: I am very...posh compared to my parents,”

Draco laughed; the word so unfamiliar to your lips and your American accent. Nor could he imagine in any way that someone would regard you as posh. He loved you, of course, but a lady was something you were not—not that he didn’t treat you like one, but that was beside the point.

But nothing you said could ever prepare him for what waited at your doorstep. Not the hours on a flight. Not the ride back in another muggle car. Not the songs on the radio. Not the conversations he had with Hermione and Harry unbeknownst to you.

“Pumpkin!” An older man in a buttoned-up flannel pulled you into his arms. His drawl was thick, making yours sound almost normal. “You are too pale darlin’ ain’t enough sun over there in England,” he chided, a huge smile on his face.

“Oh nonsense,” your mother replied, her drawl having more of a twang. “She’s just fine. Our little Georgia peach,” You face went a little pink as you blushed.

“Momma, Daddy, this is Draco,” he heard more of a drawl slip into your words and Merlin was he in trouble.

“The Brit,” your father scrutinized him for a moment before the smile returned. “Pleasure to meet you son,” he held out his hand.

“The pleasure is mine, I assure you,” Draco almost purred, shaking your father’s hand. 

“Oh Lord, hear that accent,” your mother fawned. “No wonder you fell for him, Y/n,”

“Mom,” you whined, turning a shade of red.

“Well come in you two, you must be exhausted from the flight.”

Draco should have taken your warnings more seriously. Maybe you should have eased him into more. Because a very Muggle farmhouse in the middle of the country with your very American parents was something he was not prepared for.

The floorboards creaked under his socks—shoes left by the front door—as pictures hung on the wall, a lot of them of you in various childhood phases: fishing, in trees, driving your beloved Jeep, posing next to a dead stag—that one made Draco snort, if only Harry knew. There were also tiny little ‘t’s all over the wall that Draco just didn’t understand the meaning of. Were they to ward something off? Was it a collection? Did they stand for some name he wasn’t aware of?

“Y/n, you go on with your mom and fix up dinner,” Your father nodded you two off to the kitchen.

“Dad,” You warned, a familiar look in your eyes.

“You worry too much.” Your dad shook his head. “Now, go on,”

You paused a moment, your stubborn streak flaring before you disappeared into the house, leaving Draco alone with your father, feeling quite anxious.

“Come on in, boy, sit on down and tell me about yourself,” Your father beckoned him to sit on a well-worn leather sofa, a knitted afghan thrown over the back.

Draco knew how to keep light conversation—a perk of being a Malfoy—but this? This he had no idea how to do. Your father seemed to pick up on that as he chuckled.

“So, you like my daughter, do you now?” He asked, his eyes holding the same shade as yours. 

“Yes sir,” Draco nodded. “Very much,”

“Yeah, we think she's something else,” Your father shook his head, chuckling. “Her daddy's girl... mama's world.” His face became hardened, serious, “She deserves respect and that's what she'll get ain't it, son?”

“Y-yes, of course,” Draco stammered. “Always.”

The smile came back to your father’s face and Draco felt like he just passed some sort of test.

“Well, y'all, run along and have some fun while you’re here. Just keep her safe. She’s got a knack for trouble,”

“Oh, I’m aware,” Draco chuckled.

“Dinner!” Two voices called from somewhere else in the house.

“Comin’ darlin’,” Your father called back, standing. “Shall we?” He gestured for Draco to go first.

........................................

“Was that so bad?” You asked later that night as you got ready for bed. It was different, seeing you flit around the room with memorized paths and actions.

“One of the most bizarre things I have ever experienced,” he confessed. “But I have to admit, your mother is a brilliant cook,”

You laughed.

“Oh, tell her that tomorrow, she will love you to pieces,”

Your drawl was coming in thicker the longer you lingered home and Draco began to understand the fascination with his accent, because your drawl did something else to him. The small room you were in was yours. A true work of art that was merely shadowed by your room in London. The soft blue tone room was calming as fairy lights were strung and antique furniture filled the room. Dried flowers and various paintings and posters filled the room matching the quilt spread underneath him.

You came over to his sitting position on the bed, nestling between his legs. His hands slipped up the backs of your thighs and you swatted him.

“Behave,” you hissed. “You have no idea how long it took me to convince Daddy to let us stay in a room together. I’d like to not lose that battle on the first night.”

“You has to ask your dad for permission to sleep with your boyfriend, in your room, as an adult?” He raised an eyebrow. “And I thought my parents were strict.”

“Oh, you don’t know the meaning of the word, pretty boy,” you smiled and draped your arms around his neck.

“I think I quite like this side of you,” Draco grinned.

“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet,”

“For the love of my sanity please use proper English,” Draco dismayed to your amusement.

“Fine.” You rolled your eyes. “You haven’t seen anything yet,” You dropped your drawl easily.

“You know what? Never mind,” Draco grinned, causing you to laugh harmoniously.

Never once had Draco ever seen you be a morning person, except now. The sun filtered in through the flowing curtains and your eyes fluttered open, landing on his.

“Mornin’,” You greeted.

“Good morning,”

“You ready?” There was a mischievous look in your eyes.

“For?”

“Well, I don’t think you’re quite ready to meet my friends, so I thought today we could go fishing.”

“Fishing?”

“Well, it’s not deer season so... we can’t exactly hunt. But it is fishing season.” 

“There are seasons for you to kill wildlife?” He asked, watching you get ready.

“Yeah?” You paused, looking over at him. “Helps keep the animals from being over hunted while still keeping up the sport and population down. Daddy and I do it more for the population, not the sport,” Your smile was soft. “And venison is to die for when momma cooks,”

After a breakfast that Draco would be craving for the rest of his life, you loaded up the Chevy pick-up truck (you had informed him) with bait and poles and against his better judgement, he got in.

_____________________________

“I’m gonna seriously have to thank Hermione for takin’ you shoppin’ beforehand,” You grinned, eyeing Draco in a short-sleeved Henley and khaki shorts. “Knowin’ you, you only own suits and dress pants.”

“I own t-shirts,” Draco refuted, clinging to the door handle for dear life as I meandered the backroads towards the lake.

I rolled my eyes and turned onto the trail that would take us to the docks. 

“This isn’t even a road!” Draco dismayed. “It’s barely dirt!”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s what four-wheel drive is for,” I grinned. “And honey, I fear the day someone takes you muddin’.”

“Mudding?” He asked skeptically.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it,” I smiled, chuckling darkly, imagining the pristine Draco Malfoy anywhere near a four wheeler or ATV.

Hopping into the boat, Draco eyed me, hesitant on the dock. 

“You can drive this too?” He narrowed his eyes at me.

“It’s barely anything to drive,” I rolled my eyes, throwing my hair up. “Now come on, city boy. A little country ain’t gonna kill you,”

“No,” Draco agreed, settling in the boat beside me. “But a country girl just might,” The purr of his voice had me blushing and fumbling to kill the engine and grab a fishing pole.

Draco absolutely refused to touch the live crawfish. His face scrunched up in disgust as he watched me cast my line in.

“Oh, like it’s any different than you and your potion’s ingredients,” I pointed out. 

“That’s different,” He pouted.

Smiling at his theatrics, the day consisted of Draco dismaying at just about everything. Including but not limited to: sunscreen, mosquitoes, not being able to hold my reeling hand, the heat, the sun, Oakley sunglasses—of which he looked absolutely stunning in and it wasn’t fair—baseball caps, live bass, me handling said bass, me handling a knife, the live crawfish again, the heat... again.

“Oh my God, Draco,” I huffed, not nearly as annoyed as I sounded.

“I’m sorry,” He drawled. “But this is absolutely absurd,”

I might have shoved him into the lake.

When he resurfaced, utter shock was on his face, as well as anger as he scolded my name. 

“Yes?” I answered innocently. “Not so hot anymore is it?” I bated my eyelashes.

“You little—”

“Oh, and watch out for gators,” I grinned mischievously as his eyes went wide with fear. “Kidding!” I laughed, slipping off my crocs. “Probably,”

He was hanging onto the side of the small boat when I leapt off the side and into the icy water. 

“What in the world are you doing?” Draco swam over to me.

“Swimming? Since someone thinks that fishing is absurd,” I mocked his accent. 

“I don’t sound like that,” He grumbled.

“Yes, you do,” I smiled, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Stop being so uptight, Dray. Whatever you’re holding onto... reputation or whatever voice that’s in your head...” His face fell.

I knew that he had been raised to hate everything around him. The innocence and simplicity of it. Sure, it had taken some time and I had made a home in his heart, those prejudices fading, but he still fought hard sometimes. And maybe I wish he didn’t. And maybe I was selfish to think that.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered softly. “I just... Your world is so incredible, Draco. Filled with things that are beyond my wildest dreams, and maybe I wanted to show you into mine,”

His arms snaked around my waist as he held me close, resting his forehead to mine.

“I’m sorry too,” He murmured softly. “Of course, I want to be a part of your world as well, but— ”

“Maybe fishing was a bit over ambitious?” I mused.

“Maybe slightly,” He chuckled, pressing his lips to mine sweetly. 

“At least we have dinner tonight,”

“I can’t tell if you’re kidding or not,”

I wasn’t.

__________________________________

The next day wasn’t as ambitious as fishing with you, but it was still quite new to him. Dressed in a sundress, you took his hand and lead him down the main street of your small town, the small shops reminding him of a fairytale. He was surprised at how many people recognized you and said hello. A kindness that he wasn’t accustomed to in the Wizarding world. Especially when the café owner had a long conversation with you and then said that your lunch was ‘on the house.’

“Not too bad?” You asked softly, after finishing lunch. 

“Not bad at all,” He smiled.

After bringing in the groceries from a quaint muggle shop, into your warm little yellow kitchen, you took Draco’s hand and led him into the backyard. The sun was setting just beyond the horizon, painting the sky in crimson colors.

“Mr. Fancypants alright with climbing a few trees?” There was a smirk on your face. 

“What are we? Five?” Draco chuckled, following you into the tree line.

“Well, I guess that is when daddy and I built this,” You gestured to a certain tree, where an emasculate treehouse resided.

Despite the wooden construction’s age, it still held well. Draco was half expecting it to be bigger on the inside, a commonality in the Wizarding World, but no, what he saw on the outside was what was reflected on the inside. This treehouse held no secrets. Draco smiled as he watched you climb the tree with no shoes on—a commonality he had noticed. You went barefoot whenever you could.

You helped him up and his eyes darted around, taking in the little house with it’s rope banisters, many windows and various trinkets and knickknacks that Draco had no hope in naming or identifying. When his eyes found you again, there was a blanket folded into your arms.

“When I was little, I used to come out here and stargaze... I don’t know how many times Daddy would have to come up here and carry me home ‘cause I fell asleep,” A smile touched your lips.

Draco looked up to the wooden roof and raised an eyebrow skeptically. You caught his question and nodded to a rope to his left. His fingers grasped the course fibers and tugged it experimentally. A mechanism went off and the roof parted at the gable, letting him see the first stars that had come out to play.

There was something different about looking up at these stars with you. He had spent years studying them in class and couldn’t remember half of what he had learned, but with you, they held a different meaning. You knew all of the stories it seemed. The ones that he learned as a child and some he didn’t. It was jarring, hearing the familiar stories fall from your lips. After all this time, maybe your muggle world wasn’t so far off from his magical one.

True to your word, you did end up sleeping softly in his arms as he looked up at the stars, then down at your peaceful face. Knowing that you wouldn’t want to spend the night outside—and neither would he for that matter—he carefully scooped you into his arms, and instead of risking dropping you, he simply apparated to the soft grass below and headed up towards the house.

Your father was waiting on the porch, the light still on despite the late hour, nursing a can, a soft smile on his face.

“Good to see that some things don’t change with her,” Your father opened the door for him. “Sometimes I think I lose her to her fancy schools, halfway around the world,” There was an air of melancholy to his words.

“I can assure you that you’ll never lose her,” Draco smiled down at you. “She adores and loves you more than you’ll ever know. The way she lights up when she talks about home...”

“You’ve made an old man very happy tonight Draco,” Your dad smiled. “Now go on up, I’m gonna close the house up for the night,”

.................................

“I’d like to apologize in advance for just about everythin’ that’s about to happen,” You took his hand smiling.

“How bad can they be?” Draco mused. “You’ve met my friends, and that went well,”

“Uhuh,” You laughed. “Sure. I’ll take that vote of confidence.” You easily backed your truck up into the circle of other vehicles surrounding a rather large bonfire that gave Draco a bit of anxiety.

“Look at what the tide washed in!” Someone called from the back of a pickup truck. 

“No way!” Another gasped.

“Since when did you get home!?”

A girl rushed up and pulled you into a hug, dislodging your hand from his as he watched you spin with the girl, both of you laughing. A few others came up and hugs were passed out, hellos exchanged.

“Son of a bitch, you never said he was hot, Y/n,” The first friend who greeted—Rebecca— raised an eyebrow at you.

“Yes, because that’s all I look for in a guy,” You rolled your eyes, offering him a beer and taking a seat on the tailgate of your pickup.

“I’m just glad to see that you haven’t gone full brit on us,” Another—Megan smiled from the arms of a guy that Draco would have stereo typed to be on your arm instead. “Still think you can outshoot me?” She grinned.

“With my eyes closed,” You drawled, taking a sip of your own hard iced tea. “Seriously, y’all think I was just gonna forget everythin’?”

“We didn’t think you’d come back after find Mr. London over here,” Rebecca grinned.

“Yeah, you’ve been awful quiet over there Union Jack,” Megan narrowed her eyes at him, and he felt the same sort of anxiety he had around your parents. “What are your intentions with our Y/n?”

“Y’all really? What are we? High schoolers? And he has a name ya know.” You rolled your eyes, leaning against him, intertwining your finger with his. That eased his anxiety a bit as his eyes stayed trained on the dancing fire.

“Well, any guy worthy of catching your eye must be something special,” Tyler—the guy sitting next to Rebecca—shrugged.

“Oh, come on Tyler, we were freshman,” You scoffed, taking another swig from your can.

Draco’s interest was piqued at this new information. Was there something between you and Tyler that he wasn’t aware of? Was it something he had to worry about? His grip tightened around you and he caught the sly smile on your face at the action.

He learned a lot about you that night. You never were one to brag but stars did your friends like to embarrass you. You weren’t the top of your class, but you were pretty damn close. You always got yourself out of any kind of trouble and had about every boy at your heels in school and didn’t give them an air of interest—Tyler lamented quite obnoxiously. You could be out late Saturday night at a party, but every morning you were up early, in the choir at church—which shocked Draco, you had always been hesitant to sing around him, and he wasn’t exactly sure what ‘church’ was but... it was a question for another time.

The conversation lulled as food was brought out. You offered him a bit of mangled stretched out wire and a hot dog and shot him a dazzling smile before showing him how to roast it over the fire. It was messy and uncivilized, and Merlin, Draco loved it. Sitting cross-legged beside you, a paper plate in his lap filled with such rich food and sweet fruit, he truly caught a glimpse into your world again.

The buzz of insects and glow of others, the heat and warmth of the fire, the smell of grass and dirt, the sound of some country song blasting from a nearby truck, the sway of your body as you hummed along, the smile that rested on your face, the buzz of alcohol in his system, and the taste of it on your lips, Draco never felt more... free. The Dark Mark could be nothing more than a tattoo. His scars could mimic Alex’s dirt biking scars. His school career could be scoffed at like yours was. His parents could just be strict and rich. He could be free.

_____________________________

My thumb absentmindedly stroked the back of Draco’s hand as the night wound down. I had switched to sweet tea a while ago, knowing I’d had to drive home. There was something oddly comforting in seeing Draco in the midst of my small-town world. His careful blue eyes, stark blond hair, and pale creamy skin seemed to rebel at the mere thought, but the smile on his lips overrode it all, claiming he belonged.

In bed that night, my fingers traced over the scars that littered his chest. It was hard to imagine that the Harry I knew caused them. It seemed like worlds away. Even in Draco’s arms, London and magic and wizards sounded like a fairytale, some far-fetched dream.

“Your friends are... nice,” Draco murmured, drawing a chuckle from me.

“That’s one way to put it,” I propped up on my elbow. “Nothing too absurd I hope?” There was a slight teasing tone to my words.

He smiled lazily at me.

“It’s... different here,” Draco decided.

“Good different? Or bad different?”

“Free different.” He mused. “Like... it—my past... doesn’t exist at all. No one here knows, or judges me...”

“Well,” I whispered softly, running my hand through his hair. “It is a different world. Somethin’ you have to love about a small town,” A smile grew on my face. “And it’s not about your past, not anymore. It’s your future that’s important,”

“As long as you’re there,” Draco pressed a kiss to my forehead. 

“For as long as you’ll have me,”

“Forever,”

I spent the next day teaching Draco how to bake. He was a decent cook after spending some time with my grandmother and I in London, but backing was a bit different, as Draco found out. With classic rock on the radio and mom and dad out for the day, Draco and I had a blast. A few times I saw him cheat and use wandless magic. It earned him some flour in his face—which he also magicked away. When I protested, he pressed a kiss to my lips and maybe I forgot why I was upset in the first place.

With the pie in the oven, Draco and I lounged across the couch. His hands were fiddling with my hair absentmindedly, as we watched The Breakfast Club. Hermione and Harry had done an alright job introducing Draco to muggle movies and shows. But as much as I loved Doctor Who—we were all convinced that the Doctor was a wizard secretly—or Sherlock, some American normalcy was appreciated.

That night I couldn’t help but laugh as Draco was very confused about football. It was like translating something through three languages—Wizard, to British, to American. After a while I think he gave up on the notion and just nursed his beer. The game held my interest for the second half while my father was very adamant about coaching from his armchair.

“You should have seen him at her little league games,” My mother muttered, causing Draco and I to chuckle and my dad to simmer some.

“Softball,” I filled Draco in. “Like baseball... but for girls I guess.” He nodded.

Before I knew it, the week ended, and Draco and I were packing to return back home, well to London anyway. I traded in my sundresses for jeans and sighed as I unzipped my suitcase, starting to unpack.

“It’s not like we’ll never go back,” Draco wrapped me up in his arms.

“We?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Did you not want me to go back?” A playful smile graced his lips.

“No, I do! I just... well, I know you Dray,” I draped my arms around his neck. “You like things a certain way in a certain order, and well, that,” I gestured vaguely. “was anything but,”

“Maybe it’s time I leave this behind me,” He murmured softly. “Stuffy offices and grey skies...”

My eyes widened in surprise and joy.

“Not completely,” He amended. “I do still have to work, they need me as Head Healer, and you have uni, and then there’s Teddy to think about, but... maybe a summer home there wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world,”

I drew him into a tight hug, tears stinging my eyes. It wasn’t even that he wanted to go back, it was that he wanted me with him when he did. He talked about a home like I’d be there beside him.

And when he was down on one knee, surrounded by my London family, with a simple ring, I knew that he did want me there beside him, and always would.

I gave him an escape from his past and he promised me a future.

.

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