#like. I’m not gonna wear it cause cringe. but Do I give it away??

[pepsimaxolotl]

TRANSITION WIN:

CLEARING OUT MY WARDROBE OF FEMININE CLOTHING

[d0youc0py]

hii - 🍄

can you do the 1-4-1 letting you climb on their back? they carrying you or letting you rest on top of them (they face down ofc)

Guess it’s about time I had some fluff on my page

You couldn’t shake the last mission. You had been doing this for a little over two years now, but it had been the first time you had truly been scared. Ghost had said a near death experience would do that to you. Considering how many he’s had, you believed him.

You groaned, throwing your light comforter off of you. You had tried everything you could think of to fall asleep, but the clock beside your bed proudly displayed the early morning hours. You were exhausted- and desperate. You stood up, wrapping yourself in your comforter, making your way down the hall.

A hesitant knock at his door woke him up from his light sleep. The lightness of it didn’t cause a sense of urgency in his being.

“Lieu?” You asked softly, opening the door just a crack. He groaned from his bed, his shoulders cracking as he stretched out against his mattress. “Can I sleep in here?”

He hummed in agreement. He could recognize the strain in your voice. Insomnia was a bitch. He suddenly felt bad he didn’t come and check up on you. He hushed his brain, reminding himself he had a reputation to uphold. ‘Some reputation’ he thought as you quickly crawled on top of him, pressing your face against his muscled back. He swatted away the butterflies in his stomach at the realization of just how perfect you felt against him.

“Since when did you start sleeping on your stomach?” You questioned, already feeling your eyes droop.

“Don’t have my mask on.” He responded through his own yawn.

“Oh I’m sorry”- You quickly moved to get off of him, but he wrapped his arm behind him holding you close.

“Don’t make it weird.” He grumbled against his pillow. “Plus it’s about time you had my back.” You could feel his smirk. A small snort escaped you.

“Yes sir.” You hummed curling against him.

“I can see everything from up here.” You hummed, resting your chin against his broad shoulder. He didn’t respond with words, but his hands squeezed the back of your thighs. “You annoyed at me?” You questioned, placing a fleeting kiss behind his ear.

“Never.” He responded quickly. He had told you to not wear those shoes, but they just went so perfectly with your outfit… About halfway into your date painful blisters started to arise, and John being the perfect gentleman he was wouldn’t allow for such marks on your body. “You gonna listen to me next time?” He turned his head giving you a playful side eye.

“Promise.” You whispered, wrapping your arms tighter around his neck. “John?”

“Mmm?” He hummed.

“Thank you for taking care of me.”

You were lucky he was use to keeping steady footing, because that comment just about had him on the ground.

“You’re very handsome Jo.” You whispered. He could feel you smile against his shoulder blades. He flushed at your words, a red tint rising across his shoulders. “So many freckles.” You mumbled absentmindedly. You connected them with your fingers, not being able to hold back from kissing the larger ones.

His skin rippled under your touch, so sensitive. His skin was hard and strong, the soft feeling of your padded fingers completely foreign.

“Thank you.” He murmured, his brain finally managing to catch up with your words. He was too busy engraving this moment into his brain. “Do you like them?” He whispered, referring to the spots that decorated his back. He cringed at his own words. Why did he make himself sound so pathetic? Begging you to complement him. He was so confident, but when it came to you that seemed to fade. You were so perfect in his eyes, he couldn’t help but crave to know if you felt the same way about him.

“Very much.” You hummed against him.

You woke up in the middle of the night, your hands instinctively patting around the bed for a familiar body. He huffed in his sleep as your hand collided with his shoulder.

“You alright?” He asked sleepily, beginning to roll over.

“You keep moving away from me.” You grumbled, pressing yourself against his warm back.

“Not a chance.” He yawned, throwing an arm behind him, holding you against him as he rolled onto his stomach. Even in your sleepy haze you felt giddy. This was the best sleeping spot in the entire world. His back was always warm and he had the perfect combination of muscle and soft skin.

“I miss this when your gone.” You don’t know why you said it and you regretted it when you felt his body tense.

“I know baby.” He sighed, his hand reaching down to grip your thigh. “You know I do whatever I can to make sure you don’t loose this, yeah?” He assured, turning his head.

“I know. I’m sorry Ky, don’t know why I got so dark all of a sudden.” You apologized, peppering his shoulders with kisses.

“Don’t sweat it.” He smiled back at you. “It’s good for me to hear too.”

[hydrngea]

gyming

a/n : this was a very self indulgent fic that’s very unedited but i hope you enjoy!! this is gonna be a series of short somewhat connected blurbs of gymbro!rafe :))

summary : your first time at a new gym doesn’t start off too great until you meet your new gymbro. | rafe cameron x f!reader, rafe is a gym rat in this, reader is extremely thirsty and downbad lol, fluff.

navigation | masterlist

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

it took you a good 2 months after moving to the obx to try out the local gym.

you know, you know. there’s nothing really to be afraid of; you know how all the machines work and you don’t have to worry much about your form. it’s just now that you’ve moved away for college, you don’t have your best friend working out side by side with you. and it’s got you nervous.

you finally mustered up the courage after a long facetime call with her. you were gonna do it. expand your horizons.

you felt instantly relieved when you walked into the gym and it was empty. you always thought that nine o’clock at night was the perfect time to go, since all the machines and benches were empty a couple hours before the gym closes.

you look around. there’s about 4 people in the gym other than yourself.

there’s some guy in the corner by the deadlift platform that seems to think he’s batman;with a weird all black getup, wearing…combat boots?

another two are a really cringe high school couple. bleh.

and then the last one by the bench presses.

woah. he’s hot. you think, panning him from far away and taking him in. he’s literally lifting triple the amount of weight you can. you didn’t even know the arm had so many muscle groups.

alright, maybe this new gym isn’t so bad.

you find your way to an open bench and put your stuff down. you stare at the plates for a good minute or two and wonder what would be the best the start with. you decide on a safer weight to warm up. it has been more than a few weeks since you’ve benched.

you lay onto the bench and place you hands into position, puffing out your chest while sucking in a tight breath.

you push up on the bar and immediately regret your overconfidence. the weight moves too heavy, yet you still force yourself to continue with reps.

2…3…4..

you’re so close to hitting 6 reps, but suddenly at the end of the forth one your arms give out and the bar begins to fall on you chest.

you do your best to prepare for the blow, but it never comes. you blink a couple times and realize a pair of strong hands have pulled up the bar from you and a handsome face mirrors yours.

oh god. it’s him. the cute guy.

“easy there, sweetheart.” his gruff voice cuts through your thoughts you immediately fall in love.

he places the bar onto the hinges with ease and you quickly sit up on the bench, face burning. your hands are as red as a tomato from the right grip you had on the bar, and your wrist aches from the failed lift.

you pull your headphones off of your head and turn your neck to look at him, “i’m so sorr-“

you begin to apologize but he cuts you off with a chuckle.

“nah, what are you apologizing for? i’m sorry for not asking if you wanted a spot earlier.”

earlier? did he notice me earlier?

“this used to be my warm up.” you say with your head low, a small scoff coming out during the beginning of your sentence.

the stranger shrugs, “well for the first few sets it looked like you were handling it just fine.”

you raise a brow, not able to control the sudden urge for flirtation that comes upon you. “were you watching me?”

he crosses his arms over the bar and leans against it, shaking his head which caused his hair to shuffle a bit and his muscles to flex in the most mesmerizing way ever.

you’re sure you gawking at him and that you should probably avert your eyes from his body but you kinda can’t help it.

“of course i was. couldn’t stop but notice the pretty girl that walked in.”

you roll you eyes at the comment, shaking your head. “i doubt that i’m pretty.”

he scoffs. “you’re the prettiest girl in here.”

“is that because i’m the only girl in here?” you question, undoing your loose ponytail to redo it.

“you know what i meant, pretty girl.”

“mm. sure…pretty boy.” you test out the nickname and he smiles at you for the first time. you swear your feel butterflies all over your body at the simple action.

he takes a step out towards the front of the bench to face you. “how ‘bout we spot each other so we don’t get hurt, pretty girl?” he suggest, a lop sided smile curving onto his gorgeous face.

god. why are you so down bad for a guy you just met?

“why not?” you acquiesce, sending him your own mirroring grin in return.

you think it’s safe to say this won’t be the last time you’d visiting this gym.

—————

taglist (dm/use ask box if you’d like to be added!) : @maybankslover @mrsstarkey1 @a-aexotic @tee-swizzle @penny4yourthoughts @sangytv @poguesworld @willowpains @sweetestdesire @softsatnin

reblog + comment and i’ll do the same for you :))) my dms are always open if you’d like to make a friend !!

[jhoneybees]

Obsession?

Alright! It's back and ready for you all to read! So this one isn't like my other fluffy fics but a spicy type(my first ever!) so if you're looking for a fluffy fic, this one might not be it 😅 My girl @elvisalltheway101 helped me with this and I'm so thankful, mwah mwah to you sista🫶

Thank you so much for your patience!

Characters: 50s!Elvis X reader

Warnings/triggers: spicy fic, mentions of y/n, crying, swearing, Elvis being obsessed, mentions of worship, sub!elvis???, obsession talk, mentions of God

_____________________________________________

There’s just something about you that makes Elvis go weak in the knees. He doesn’t know what it could be that attracted him so much but everytime he tries to find the possible answers, his brain just goes static when his thoughts gradually form into a daydream about when you would pass-by giving him one of those gorgeous smiles of yours or when you would stare into eachothers eyes for a split second, even when he watched you from afar as you laughed with the middle aged women at church and wearing that damn dress that made you look too tempting for your own good at a party you two were invited to.

Elvis' heart and brain might not know that he’s obsessing but that occasional stir in his stomach sure does, It’s almost like he’s worshiping you but how can he not? Your humor, your kind-heartedness, your attentive nature, your eyes, your hair, your voice, your smile lines, your pores, your breathing, your lips, they’re all better than any morning coffee, any fulfilling meal and it sure doesn’t help him when you would ask the simplest of questions like “Sugar in your coffee?” or “How was your day today, Presley?” with that pretty voice it turns him into a blushing, stuttering, shaking mess and when he would get a glimpse of you everytime he walks past the diner you work at.

Boy his heart starts racing like he’s about to have a heart attack.

It’s been so agonizing for him because he’s had a crush on you for as long as he can remember, the first day of Junior year. Others may say to just ask you out and see what happens but to him he can’t do that, how could he? He may act all confident and slick in his daily daydreams of you but in reality he’s just a mere country boy with a funny sense of style and girly eyelashes that everyone laughs at and your the Preacher’s daughter who everyone loves, who couldn’t possibly like someone as foolish as him, you’re divine and he’s just…well him.

But he feels like something’s gonna happen.

He just can’t quite put a finger on it.

One day as he browses around the Memphis record shop, he accidentally gets nudged. looking up to be blessed by those Godly angel eyes. “Oh I’m so sorry! I didn’t see-” His heart skips a beat “Elvis, Hi! It’s been a while”

God must be watching over me.

“Hello?” Elvis shaking his head out of his trance with a sharp inhale “H-Hi” seeing a soft smile grow on your face “How are you?” Elvis grins shyly and scratches the back of his neck “Uh..I-I’m good” his eyes averting away but snap back to yours as he straightens up “H-how are you?” mentally cringing to himself.

“I’m great, Thank you for asking”

You thanked him, you wasted an ounce of that precious voice of yours to Thank him.

By this point, the record he’s holding slips out of his hand, just for a moment he realizes and with a clumsy attempt of trying to catch it, he accidentally steps on it the wrong way causing the record to break.

“Shit-” he swears under his breath, hearing you gasp quietly “Oh…” crouching down to pick the damaged record up. He sighs and moves his hand to grab his wallet from his pocket only for him to notice it’s not there, his eyes widen to which your eyebrows raise slightly “Did you leave your wallet behind?” he glances at you and quickly looks away ”Uh-'' feeling your hand touch his arm making him gulp “Hey, I can pay for the record..” you offer softly, his eyebrows furrow and his head turns up at you “No, it’s-”

“I insist”

_____________________________________________

“Thank- thank you for paying for that, I-I-I-I’ll have ta pay you back somehow” Elvis’ voice falling soft as he nears the end of his sentence making you smile “Don't mention it, wouldn't want you getting in trouble” a happy angelic laugh fills his ears, his brain going fuzzy as he looks at you through his lashes, falling into a short trance until your voice snaps him out of it “Well I better get going” Elvis clears his throat following with a nod, Seeing your small wave but the moment your head turns the other way, his gut feeling urges him to yell out “Wait Y/n!”

Oh God.

“Yeah?” his hand moving to scratch the back of his neck and his eardrums hearing the bottom of your shoe scraping along the concrete as you come to a halt “Um…To- to pay you back…” stuffing his hand in his pocket. His heart punching him in his chest.

Oh Lordy Lord.

“Can I take you out?”

Oh why did I say it like that?

His heart ringing wedding bells as a giggle emits through your lips and his breath stills when you nod quietly “Of course, that'll be very nice, Elvis” his knees are damn. near. weak. Nodding his head silently with his crooked smile showing “Uhm…at 6?....I’ll..I’ll pick you up” he questions to which you nod again.

Did I just?

You walk away the second time, his eyes brightening as you look over your shoulder.

“See you then, Presley”

_____________________________________________

It feels like a dream, how did he manage to ask you out, for you to agree? God, Elvis hopes he doesn’t wake up from this dream, if it is even one.

His palms rubbing along his slacks as his eyes try to stay watching the movie on the screen. By now he's lost the plot of the movie because of his thoughts.

He's alone with you in his daddy’s car.

And lord his nerves are kicking him like crazy.

Leg bouncing nervously and a deep breath escapes his mouth. He's trying, he’s trying to keep his attention on the movie but he’s on a date with you-

a hand falling on his knee and his eyes trail up an arm, landing on your eyes that he couldn't help but soften at.

“About to make a hole in the floor soon” you laugh, making him clear his throat and smile shyly “M’sorry” once again blessed by your smile “It's alright…you seem a little distracted, is everything ok?” pressing his lips together tightly as your eyebrows furrow, shaking his head “Oh, no it's nothin’ “ he inhales deeply when you quirk an eyebrow “You sure?” he nods.

Stupid.

Be. more. discreet.

Elvis turns his head to look out the side window as your attention falls back on the movie then as he begins to bite his nails, sinking into his seat a little, he freezes as he feels your knee gently tap against the side of his thigh, gulping and pushing himself back up to sit up properly, resting his arm on the car door and wiping his palm on his slacks.

“Are you sure you're ok? You seem to be a little off, Elvis” his head whipping towards you “I-I'm fine, really” looking at each of your eyes with so much adoration as your words flow off your tongue “You can tell me…” you say with a slight smile.

A big gulp.

Elvis lowers his head and looks at the floor of the car “It's noth-...” glancing at you as you sit up in your seat, facing him, waiting patiently.

His eyes avert from yours and his heart beats out of his chest, mentally cursing to himself as his hands grow increasingly more sweaty. He’s been dreaming of this moment and he’s been praying for this to happen but…He’s scared-

“I like you”

Glancing up to see your eyes widen, surprised.

He said it.

It's out in the open, he can't take it back.

“Elvis…” your voice soft and quiet, his vision turning back to the floor, brimming with tears “...I’m sorry” his voice quiet, picking at the fabric of his slacks, bringing his palm up to wipe at the tears that manage to escape.

Then…

He feels a hand smooth along the front of his neck, cupping his jaw with a thumb on one side and two fingers on the other. Forcing him to turn his head, His voice releasing a pained whimper of his heart clenching at the sight of your angelically sculpted face.

His breath hitches as you suddenly ever so gently, plant your soft lips on his, closing his eyes. A single tear falling down his cheek.

Absolute. Pure. Bliss.

The slightest his hands begin to tremble as his skin tingles from your exhale through your nose. His spine shivers as your hands cup his cheeks, pulling him closer to bring his lips further onto yours making you lean back a little.

A small whine emitting through his lips as you pull away breathlessly, Elvis looking into your eyes “Y/n…” your eyes that could outshine any jewel before shakily slithering his hands around your waist, pulling you into another kiss. His eyebrows frowning and his body physically melting as you hum against him.

He hums softly, out of nowhere feeling your knee pushing in between his legs, causing him to moan.

With a soft push on his chest, Elvis leans back against the pillar between the car seat and the car door, the sound of your lips separating filling the car as you lean down to peck along his jaw, Elvis' breath hitching and sighing. With shaky hands squeezing your waist gently for you to push your knee in between his legs again with a little more pressure.

Oh Lord, help me.

His stomach fills with butterflies as you nip at his jaw a little and your hands brushing down his neck down to his belt to pull his shirt out of his pants, his breath stutters as you slide your hands under to rub against his tummy, your soft lips returning to his. Hands traveling up to lightly graze over his nipples, making him squirm.

Feeling you smirk against him, A very unexpected noise escapes his body as your palm presses on his manhood, slowly adding pressure, his breathing frantic and groans squeezing out of his throat.

Elvis inhales sharply as you shift onto his lap, his puppy eyes looking straight up into yours as your lips separate, seeing you in front of him, your bodies just a few inches apart.

Tears building up in his eyes, he glides his hands down to your hips, almost about to sob at the feeling of you as he gives you a little squeeze.

Gulping before saying just above a whisper “You’re so beautiful…”

His eyes roaming all over your body from your neck, down to your chest then to his hands on your hips but as he caresses you with his thumbs, his head gets lifted by your finger under his chin. Shocked to find a glimmer of lust, a need but also a sparkle of kindness…Love.

His breath drains out of him as you lift his hand in your small ones, kissing each of his fingers, making sure to keep his eyes on you.

“Take me, Presley.”

_____________________________________________

Maybe a part 2?

[sarastellasari]

New Years Kiss (Part One)

part two, part three (they’re also at the bottom!)

@123letsgobestie @haniya1234, Im pretty sure u guys wanted to be tagged!

ੈ✩‧₊˚🥂ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚🥂ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚🥂ੈ✩‧₊˚🥂

Grayson Hawthorne sighed as he stared at his brothers' expectant faces. 

“For the last time, no, I will not find a girl so I can get a New Year's kiss.”

“But Grayson!” Xander pouted, giving the blonde-haired boy puppy eyes,  “You’re the only one of us who won't get one!” Xander had very good puppy eyes, but Grayson had become resistant to them over a lifetime.

“There’s not even a single girl?” Nash asked curiously, frowning. Grayson shook his head, face turning hot.  

“Gray, we're worried.” Nash sighed, patting the spot between him and Jameson on Grayson's bed. Grayson did not sit down.

“You've barely ever been with anyone!” Xander sighed, flopping down empathetically. Jameson nodded in agreement. 

“Emily died years ago, Gray, it's time to get over her.” Grayson jerked his head up, startled. 

“You think this is about Emily?” Jameson frowned. 

“Is it not?” Grayson hesitated. Was it about Emily? No, he decided firmly, he just hadn't had time to date between college and helping Avery. He only had so much time in a day, or a month, or a year after all. 

“My dating life, or lack of one, has nothing to do with Emily.” He confirmed. Nash frowned. Jameson raised an eyebrow. Xander grimaced.

“What caused it then? Please explain in great detail,” Jameson said, lacing his fingers together as though he was one of Grayson's professors. Grayson frowned.

“I don’t really know, I guess.” He admitted. “I guess I just don’t really have time for dating.” Xander frowned. 

“No time for dating? Man, sounds like college sucks. Even though you don't date, do a lot of girls like you, since you’re a Hawthorne?” Grayson flushed, thinking of the stampedes, the sunglasses he had to wear, the love notes slipped under his door, and his singular kiss while he was away. 

“Yeah,” he admitted. Jameson and Xander grinned, no doubt thinking of what was going to come in only a few years.

“Guys, you all have girlfriends.” Xander smiled dreamily at the thought. Jameson smirked.

“Yes we do,” he agreed. “And we have people we’re gonna kiss on New Year's.” Grayson scowled at his unsubtle attempt to steer the subject back to their original topic.

“Enough, Jameson. And the rest of you as well. I will not be kissing a girl on New Year. End of discussion.” 

Grayson pretended he didn’t notice the looks his brothers were exchanging, the matching smirks on their faces.

Let them try, He thought. But no girl will be kissing me. 

No matter what devious plan his brothers came up with.

ੈ✩‧₊˚🥂ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚🥂ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚🥂ੈ✩‧₊˚🥂

“Heiress, I’m gonna need you to invite Lyra to our New Year’s party,” Jameson smirked, walking into Avery’s room, completely shirtless.

“O-okay?” Avery said, looking up from her book and raising an eyebrow. “Why?” 

“Oh, you know. She’s our friend. And stuff.” Avery set her book down. “Grayson needs a New Year's kiss.” Avery grinned.

“Aww, and you wanna be his wingman! How sweet!” Jameson scowled. Avery laughed internally.

“No it’s just- have you seen the way he looks at her?” Avery nodded. 

“And the way she looks at him?” The couple exchanged a look. 

“Reminds me of us,” Jameson added, stalking towards the bed. Avery laughed.

“I’ll go call Lyra.” Jameson cheerfully tossed Avery her phone, Lyra’s numbers already punched in.

“How did you- never mind.” Jameson wandered to Avery’s closet, pulling out a shirt. Avery absentmindedly watched him. Jumping when she heard Lyra answer.

“Hello?” 

“Hi Lyra, this is Avery,” Avery responded, eyes still on Jameson's back muscles. He had very nice back muscles.

“Hey, Avery. What’s up? Is everything ok?” 

“Yeah, everything is fine, w-“ Avery smirked as she got an idea. “Grayson was wondering if you would like to attend our New Year’s party. It’s at our house on… New Year’s Eve” 

“I assumed,” Lyra responded. Avery cringed, glowering at Jameson who was shaking with silent laughter, his shirt now on but unbuttoned. “I would love to come through. What time does it start?” 

“Uh, 7?” Avery guessed. She didn’t actually know, but seven seemed like a plausible time. 

“Great. I’ll be there. Tell Grayson I say thanks for the invite. Bye, Avery!” And she hung up.

“Yes!” Jameson cheered. Avery high-fived him, grinning. The brothers' plan was working perfectly. 

ੈ✩‧₊˚🥂ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚🥂ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚🥂ੈ✩‧₊˚🥂

part two, part three (again)

[literaila]

the tour

tasm!peter x gn!reader 

summary: 

"...and this is where i slipped on that ice and got that bruise that went all the way down my back and turned green before it healed--"

"ugh, peter, don't bring that up."

warnings: fluff, it’s literally only banter because i forgot what the point of this was, catch the psych references, teasing 

a/n: you’re welcome, shawn spencer 

*

peter made you put on this jacket. 

the jacket which is, at the current moment, inhibiting every single one of your senses. 

your arms are locked in the puffy material, and when you try and turn, your whole body must follow to make it possible. your eyes and ears are covered by the hood--overbearing and completely unnecessary--causing you to only hear the static of the material every time you shake your head, and to only see blimp gestures of light. peter when he waves a hand in front of your face. 

because, as previously mentioned, you can't see nor hear and he hasn't quite caught up to that fact. 

oh, and, of course, he zipped it all the way up so you're snacking on some metal which you're hoping is the zipper. 

"where are you?" peter is asking as he pulls the hood away from your head, giving you just a brief moment of fresh air. 

you just grumble, trying to push it off of your head. 

"c'mon, you're gonna get cold." 

"it is literally forty degrees out here," you say, between mouthfuls of polyester. 

peter is smiling--indicated only by the slight snicker he makes as he unzips your jacket. 

and then you can actually see his grin, his silver-lined eyes. 

"it's winter," peter insists, pulling your hood back up. "let's not take the risk." 

"i'm going to suffocate in here." 

"don't worry, i know cpr." 

"how long did it take you to come up with that line?" you ask him, rolling your eyes. 

peter is teasing you. 

you're looking up at him, he's leaning over you, a mere inch away, when you slide your hand to the zipper--pushing his out of the way--and pull it the rest of the way down. 

and then, as you take off the jacket, you definitely do not hit peter with the sleeves. 

"there," you say, smiling. "that's better." 

you're in a t-shirt. 

"you're going to freeze." 

"i choose that over asphyxiation." 

peter throws his head back, and then swings an arm around you, almost burying you in his skin. 

but he's awfully warm. and he smells like soap, and some scent of deodorant you probably bought for him. 

so, clearly, you try and push yourself away from him. 

"why didn't you choose a different jacket?" peter asks you, not even budging when you push at his chest--sometimes you forget how strong he is, if only for his cowardly lion tendances. 

"um," you say, offended and under his arm, looking up at him. "i distinctly recall someone demanding that he 'picked out my wardrobe for the evening.'" 

peter doesn't mind the air quotes you're making near his stomach. 

"i didn't say it like that," peter claims, frowning at you. his eyes are very close to yours. 

he has this fake intimidation tactic he likes to try out every time you mess with him. unfortunately, he looks more like a child throwing a tantrum when he furrows his eyebrows like that, with little crinkles on the side of his forehead. 

and also his eyes are always a bit too bright. 

"you really did. you even had the accent." 

"this is a surprise," peter reminds you, "which is why i decided what you're wearing." 

"you chose the jacket at the very back of my closet, peter." 

he shakes his head. "if you don't want to wear it, then why do you own it?" 

"it's for smothering people." 

speaking of that, you pull the jacket up to his face, laughing when he begins to cough, and finally escape his hold. 

you leave him with the jacket, cringing and glaring. 

"this smells like mothballs." 

"i think there's a mouse in the pocket." 

peter opens his mouth, looking down at the jacket, then back to you. 

he doesn't say anything. 

and you laugh--you smile at him like a child, like a little kid getting to play with their favorite toy. you turn away from him and start walking again. 

"you're such a gentleman," you say, as peter catches up. "holding my jacket and everything." 

"you forgot the part where i tried to prevent your death." 

you tsk. "if you were so worried about me being cold, why didn't we do this earlier today? you know, when the sun was out?" 

peter shakes his head. "it's not the same." 

"and by 'it's,'" you repeat, leaning into him, "you mean...?" 

and then peter smiles, a reflection of yours, another child desperate for the warmth of someones love. another kid that's just happy to be there. 

you blink and take a deep breath in, trying not to look away. 

"the tour," peter says, simply, and looks away for you, but slings his arm around your shoulder and trips along with you. 

"of what?" 

"new york," peter scoffs, because obviously. 

and you're about to question him, but then you bump into another couple, and peter begins to apologize for the both of you. 

he also starts a ten-minute conversation with these strangers. 

*

"well, they were nice," peter says, as he locks his hand with yours and obnoxiously swings your arms around. 

but his hand is warm, and he's still carrying your jacket, so you'll give him this. 

"you did that on purpose," you retort, snorting. 

"did what? be nice?" 

"changing the subject so you didn't have to explain any more of your brilliant plan." 

"okay, first of all," peter says, looking at you through his peripherals. "if you hadn't bumped into sarah we wouldn't have had to stop in the first place--" 

"--maybe if you were better at actually guiding this so-called 'tour--'" 

"and second of all, it's still a surprise. i'm not telling you anything." 

"i think that counts as kidnapping." 

peter rolls his eyes. "not when the person you're kidnapping still has a bruise from the hickey you left a week ago when--" 

you push his shoulder. "i get the point." 

"are you sure? cause i can keep proving it." 

"just lead the way, peter," 

he's still smiling. and you're still pursing your lips, searching for some string to tie them together. 

"of course, sweetheart," he says, "follow me." 

*

"...and this is where i slipped on that ice and got that bruise that went all the way down my back and turned green before it healed--" 

"ugh, peter, don't bring that up." 

he grins. "and you rubbed some type of lotion on my back before we went to bed, trying to pretend like you hated every moment of it--" 

"that was literally bruise cream." 

peter shakes his head, he's looking away from you but smiling fondly at the ground. "good times."

"you falling and almost getting a concussion is a fond memory?" 

"my head wasn't even near the ground." 

"are you sure?" 

peter gives you a blank stare. 

"'cause you have been acting different since then, a little bit weirder, maybe even more reckless--" 

and then peter digs a finger into your side, stepping behind you so he can get a better grip to trap you in his arms. 

"mhmm," peter whispers, breath on your ear. "keep going." 

"don't--peter, i swear--" you squirm as he tickles you, trying to get away from him. 

"no, really, i'm listening, baby. you're voicing some obvious concerns, and i'm all ears."

"and hands!" you say, leaning your head back in an attempt to headbutt him. 

but peter moves back with you, and when your eyes open, you're looking at a brilliant grin and two very cruel eyes. "oh, hey," he says, moving his hand--finally--so he can keep you there. 

"i don't appreciate you doing this in public." 

"there's no one here." 

"correction--i don't appreciate you doing that ever." 

"you were laughing," peter assures you, rubbing a hand up and down your shoulders, pretending to comfort you. 

"i was screaming for help," you argue, "there's a difference." 

"well, if you weren't such a smart ass--" 

"me?" 

*

"i think you should come with a warning," you say to peter, watching him sip at the boba you just bought for him. 

"hmm?" 

his hair is messy and his cheeks are red. his mouth is its own threat, with its smooth and intoxicating manner, the ability to steal the breath from your lips, and your chest, and attack you until you can feel nothing but his name in your mouth, on your skin. 

all in all, you have to look away. 

"like some kind of user discretion. 'warning: will eat all your snacks and cling on to you like some type of kola.'" 

peter continues sipping, just staring at you. his brows are raised and his nose is crinkled. 

he is too calm and collected and you kind of want to jump into his arms and steal all of his warmth. 

"'likes to wake you up in the morning by biting on your nose, and lays at your feet while you're trying to get work done.'" 

"are you describing a cat?" 

you scoff, hand to your chest. "peter, i would never insult the feline species like that." 

"do you want a sip?" he asks, nonchalantly. 

"where are we going?" 

"well, you wanted drinks, so we're off course." 

"you wanted drinks. you said that it was ignorant of me to not treat dehydration as a serious condition--" 

"i've heard it both ways." 

you pout, tilting your head up at him. 

"ah, don't do that," peter complains, rubbing his eyes. 

"do what?" 

"make that face." 

"i'm not sure what you're talking about," you say, grabbing his hand so you can wrap it around your waist, and nuzzle into his shoulder. 

"is this because i got the popping boba instead of the tapioca?" 

"no--but that is an offense i will deal with later."

peter sighs. 

you're still looking at him, attempting to keep your face as smooth and innocent as possible. 

"okay," peter relents, "what do you want?" 

you feign confusion. "i don't want anything," but as you say it, you look over to the flashing lights you can see in the corner of your eye. 

then you look back to peter, and you smile at him, teeth white, eyes wide. 

"what was that?" 

"what was what?" 

"that look. that suspicious look over like i wouldn't notice you staring at the--" 

and then peter groans, and he slouches towards the groan. 

"what?" you ask him. "see something strange?" 

"why are you so mean to me?" 

"not sure what you mean, but it might be the strange curve of your nose. it's a bit alarming." 

"if you want pretzels," peter says, almost scolding you, "you just have to ask." 

"but you'll say no." 

"yeah, because that guy hates me. and coincidently--" 

"--he loves me." 

peter sighs into you. "can't we go somewhere else?" 

"peter, it wouldn't be a proper date without stopping by to see the pretzel guy. and maybe flirt a little." 

peter glares. "his name is paul and he's very unpleasant." 

"to you, maybe." 

"do we have to?" 

"you're telling me that you don't want one of paul's famous pretzels?" 

"...no?" 

you smile at him, ruffling his hair. "c'mon, pumpkin, maybe he'll give you his number on the receipt this time." 

and, although with a huff, peter follows you, holding onto your hand.

*

after an entire night of walking around, getting lost around corners that you've definitely never seen before, and watching peter struggle with the stem of the cherry from your sundae, swearing he can tie it--he begins to walk the two of you home. 

any other night, you might ask him to swing you both there. you might whisper in his ear until he slings you over his shoulder and you're breathless when he pushes the both of you through the window to your bedroom. 

but tonight, you and peter have deigned to freeze to the bone. 

you're walking towards your complex, toes gone and nose twitching, but peter is holding onto you, his hair is tickling your ear, and you've got a hand under his shirt. 

so, honestly, it's not that bad. 

"how'd you like your tour of new york?" peter asks you, after a couple of minutes of silence. 

"you know i live here, right?" 

peter leans forward, eyes wide. "what?" 

you roll your eyes at him and pull him back down so you can lean against his chest again. 

"you had fun though?" 

"it was okay. paul makes everything worth it." 

"paul is going to mysteriously disappear one day, and we'll have to find a new pretzel cart." 

you point a finger at him, frowning. "bad, peter. don't threaten people behind their backs." 

"hear me out," peter continues, "paul accidentally gets three of his wheels stolen during a bank robbery... probably sometime around next week." 

"he can buy new tires." 

peter looks up--which is good, because he can't see you grinning at him--and then nods. "okay, new plan, we buy all of the available yeast in new york." 

"and do what?" 

peter shrugs. "does it matter?" 

"yes." 

"fine, we'll start a bakery." 

"all of this so that paul can't continue to practice his pretzel business?" 

"do you have any better ideas on how to teach paul some boundaries?" 

"give me some one-on-one time with him," you tease, whispering  it on peter's jaw. "we'll figure it out." 

peter leans back. "that's not funny." 

"it is a little." 

"it's really not," he says, staring at you until you break, and you're both grinning at each other again. 

you can barely feel your mouth, chest constricting every time peter blinks, and aren't quite sure where you are anymore. 

but you're glad you asked him if you could walk home. 

peter leans down, his nose against yours, his breath making you shiver. "thank you for coming," he says. 

you can feel it. 

"thanks for carrying my jacket," you return. 

"you owe me," peter breathes. 

you lean back, just so you can open your eyes and look at him, taste his mouth without moving forward. "how's a kiss?" you ask him. 

and peter tries to hide his grin. there's a beat of silence where he pretends to consider your offer. "i suppose that's alright." 

and when you kiss him, it's with freezing blue lips and a smile that has been pulled onto your face. 

and you can't stop smiling, even when peter leans your head back, causing you to go on your tip-toes to reach him. 

even when he spews his poisonous breath into your mouth. 

even when you feel his jaw clattering against yours. 

and you're smiling when you pull away. 

"good?" you ask him. 

"mmm, you might have to keep trying."

you laugh and kiss his cheek. "c'mon, baby, pick up the pace." 

"got big plans?" peter asks you, pulling you into him again as he begins to walk. 

"i have my own tour for you when we get home." 

and peter almost starts running.

*

my masterlist here.

tags:@moonlarking-blog @v1ci0us @preciousbabypeter @alexxavicry @directioner5life @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @localrockstargf  @thestudiouswanderer @take-my-hand-time-boy @thoughtsofagodlovingsunflower @nyomjoon  @moo-b1tch​ @raindropstearsandtea @rqmanoff​ @hollandweather​ @wetcoldnoodle @urlocalavenderhazestan​ @valvlry​ @imthatcoolmom​ @spideysimpossiblegirl​    invisibletrolleyson-jeremy  @sharkswaters  

[bellysoupset]

This is going to have a part 2, but since it's gonna be long and the tone shifts a bit, I thought I'd split it for my own peace of mind.

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

Wendy smoothed her top, making sure there were no wrinkles and then glared at herself in the side mirror of her car. The sunglasses made her look like a bitch. She removed them, perching the glasses on top of her head as a makeshift headband keeping her wavy hair back, then frowned. Now she looked like she was trying too hard. Wendy removed them, studying her reflection and then planting them back on her face once more with a frustrated groan.

“Keep them in the hair,” a guy said, circling her. He was a blonde, wearing a dark t-shirt that was strained against his tattooed biceps and most of his hair had gotten loose from his man bun. He pointed at her sunglasses, “you’re beautiful, so they’re just in the way.” 

Wendy snorted at the compliment, but removed the shades, perching them on top of her hair, “better?”

“Much,” he opened a smile, offering his hand, “I’m Max.”

“Wendy,” she shook his hand, glancing past his shoulders and seeing Vince’s head among the kids just running out of the gate. He was impossible to miss. There was an older woman chatting him up, causing Wendy to grin smugly. 

“So you’re picking up your sibling or something?” Max asked her, leaning against her car and Wendy bit the inside of her cheek not to laugh at his clear flirting. 

“Or something,” she shrugged, “are you?”

“No, no,” he shook his head, looking almost offended that she asked, “I’m the chemistry teacher.”

“Oh, really?” Now Wendy was interested. This was Mr. Daniels? She made a mental note to grill Vince about him, meanwhile Max completely misunderstood the uptick in her voice. 

“Yeah, chemistry and biology, actually,” he shrugged in true false modesty, as if that wasn’t a big deal and Wen raised her eyebrows, as he continued, “I’ve never seen you around here, I’d remember such a beautiful woman.”

“Yeah, she’s super hot, right Daniels?” Vince asked smugly, circling the man, “you done hitting on my girl or do you need another minute?”

Wendy’s face caught on fire, her stomach almost hurting with the sheer amount of butterflies, and Max visibly cringed. 

“Ah, your girlfriend,” he grimaced, “uhm- Well, Wendy, my condolences,” Max did a little mocking bow and then turned around and walked away.

Wendy snorted at the comment, hand rushing up to muffle a chuckle and Vince rolled his eyes at the insult, waving Max off as he stepped into the man’s previous spot in front of Wen.

“Hi, honey,” Vin grinned, “that’s a surprise.”

“Hi,” she all but jumped in order to kiss him and Vince wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her off her feet. Wendy pressed a smile against his lips, pulling back with a sigh and feeling her cheeks hurt as she realized he hadn’t put her back on the ground, “missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Vince smiled, bumping his nose with hers and then frowning as they heard a loud wolf whistle. He turned his head and groaned, lowering Wendy back to the ground, “Sophia, quit that!” 

“You quit that, it’s school grounds Mr. Monacelli!” his sister scoffed, walking with a group of teenage girls, all of them giggling and whispering among themselves. Wendy raised her eyebrows, feeling more than a little proud of herself.

“I feel like I just became persona non grata by dating the new hot teacher,” she commented, waving to Sophia, who offered her a tiny, shy wave, clearly wanting nothing to do with Wendy or Vince.

“Yeah, we’re gonna get you a bodyguard or something,” Vince teased her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, “are you staying the weekend?”

“The whooole weekend,” Wendy nodded, sinking into his arms, “leaving only Monday morning.”

She looked around the emptying parking lot. It was a nice school, she had to give it to Vince. Kids laughing and teens teasing each other, no fights. Little cliques that made her glad she wasn’t in high school anymore. 

Daniels was just entering his car, a white, old pick-up. He lowered the sun visor and retrieved his sunglasses, planting them on his face, before catching Wendy looking and raising his eyebrows, sliding the shades on. 

“That’s Daniels, uh?” Wendy leaned on Vince’s hold and her boyfriend let out a scoff, hugging her to his chest. 

“He’s a jackass,” Vince grumbled, kissing her temple, “but I can’t blame him for having eyes.”

Wendy blushed and she rolled her eyes, turning her face to capture his next cheek kiss into an actual one, “very smooth, Pussy Magnet, very smooth.”

“You’re a horrible woman,” Vince whined, kissing her back, “let’s go?” 

They had separated rides, so Wendy pulled apart with a whine, entering her car once again. 

She had been to Vince’s little house before, a bunch of times, but lately he had been driving up to the city instead of her coming to see him, so it was to her surprise when she followed Vin inside the place, only to meet a pink wall in his bedroom. 

It was the wall to the left of the bed, where the door that led to the bathroom sat. He had painted it a muted shade of pink, then added black shelves, now filled with books. Wendy dropped her bag on the little white table that separated his living room from his bedroom and took a step back, opening a pleased smile at the change. 

“Why-”

“I missed you,” Vince shrugged, closing the door behind them and wrapping an arm around Wendy’s neck, in a half hearted lock and pulling her for a kiss, “so I thought I’d bring a little of you to my place.”

Her face hurt with how much she was blushing and Wendy squirmed in his arms, jumping to wrap her arms around Vince’s neck and squealing as he caught her easily. They kissed and stumbled further inside, Wendy letting out a oof as they fell into bed, Vince pining her down. 

“Vin…” She breathed out, as he planted a bunch of kisses down her chest, undoing the buttons of her blouse. Then his lips were on her again, scratchy five o’clock shadow dragging down the cream skin of her exposed belly, planting a kiss near her navel, curling his fingers on the hem of her white jeans.

“Vince…”

“Yeah?” He undid the button, pushed down the zipper and let out a pleased noise at the lacy pink underwear.

Wendy ran her fingers through his hair, fingers twirling the curly ends, “I wanna do something different,” she tightened her grip at the roots, pushing his head back just enough their eyes met, opening a mischievous smile, “I brought food.”

Vince raised his eyebrows, then pulled back, his arms framing her body. He didn’t say anything for the longest minute, so Wendy’s confident smile wavered and vanished. 

“Honey?” She removed her hand from his hair, cupping his cheek, “unless you don’t want…”

“No milk,” he shook his head, “not your food.” 

Wendy frowned, confused and scooted up on the bed, kicking off her shoes, “I’m sorry, you lost me…”

“It’s not fun when I get sick because of milk,” Vince grimaced at the thought, while Wendy blushed, because what she heard was that it was fun on other occasions, “the cramps are terrible.”

“Okay…” She hugged her knees, resting her cheek on them, “so how do you want to do it then?”

Vince scrunched up his nose adorably, thinking of the matter and fell flat on his back on the bed, moving so he could rest his head on her lap, “can it just be too much food?” he looked up, hopeful, “I like- The tummy rubs are nice. The… Even the puking, if it’s one and done.”

Wendy felt almost dizzy with how warm she was. She nodded, eagerly, leaning in and kissing him upside down, “you sure? We don’t have to, if you don’t-”

“I’m sure,” Vince moved his head slightly, turned it and nuzzled his nose over the bulge in her jeans, opening a smug smirk as he looked up from between her legs, “yeah, I’m sure.”

If Wendy wasn't already head over heels in love with him, she was sure she’d have fallen all over with that move alone. She threw her head back with a sigh, hitting the soft headboard, “Okay… Okay, overeating it is.”

Overeating, when you were a guy Vince’s size, meant more than just a meal. It was almost edging her, taking a fantasy and dragging it thin for a whole day. She considered logistics, then gave up on the idea of ordering too much food. It wasn’t fun if it was all staged like that. 

Instead, they fooled in bed a little longer… A lot longer, until they were undressed and clear headed, panting. Then they took a shower to get on with the day. 

“I think I’m going to leave these here,” Wendy said, sitting on Vince’s bed, with her hair wet and dripping down on her bathrobe, while inspecting the dresser next to it. She had opened all the drawers a thousand times before, snooping, not that he minded.

“Leave what here?” Vince walked from the kitchen, holding out a sandwich for her and already chewing the ends of his own, starting on a second one. 

“The clothes I brought,” Wendy pulled open the middle drawer, taking his folded sweaters out and planting them on the bed, “this is my drawer now.”

Vin snorted at that, leaning on the television stand, “you wanted a drawer, I can give you my entire wardrobe. All you have to do is ask.”

Wendy blushed, rolling her eyes and reorganizing his clothes so the middle drawer was empty just for her, “slow down, honey.”

He sighed, raising his hands as if in surrender, “I can take it slow,” Vince shrugged, “but I have at least two drawers in your place, so I don’t think this has to be a big deal.”

She ignored him, putting her clothes in and then falling against the bed, “I’m hungry.” 

That wasn’t a lie, although Wendy probably would have said it even if she wasn’t, only because she was so eager for what was to come. Regardless, she hadn’t had lunch and it was nearly 6 PM already. 

“Here’s an idea,” Vince crawled on the bed, pushing the hair behind her ear, “we go have dinner at my parents, my mom is dying to see you again,” Wendy nodded in agreement. She wanted to see his family as well, it made her feel involved… Wanted. Like she was part of something. 

“And then we can go out to have our own dinner,” Vince leaned in to whisper in her ear, “then we can come back here… And you can stop looking at me as if I’m dinner.”

Wendy giggled at that, nodding, “yeah, alright. Sounds like a plan, Mr. Monacelli.” 

Vince groaned, grabbing her face with both hands and clashing her lips with his, “you don’t call me that, shut up, Wen."

[sevcasejay1chicago]

Stomach Flu- Jay Halstead

Authors note: Again, I know this isn’t an ask, but the stomach flu is going around right now and this just happened to be in my OneNote files. I hope you enjoy!

Summary: You wake up in the middle of the night sick and scared. Jay does everything in his power to make it all better.

Warnings: mentions of vomiting, sickness, fever

~~~~~~~

You and Jay went to bed like normal that night. Jay was in his boxers and you had your hair braided back wearing only a pair of underwear and one of Jay’s shirts. You guys had fallen into bed early to snuggle once you finally admitted to having a headache that had been bothering you for the better part of the day. Jay had finished the Hawks game while you laid cradled to his chest, sound asleep 20 minutes after laying down.

Now, it was about 3 am and Jay was suddenly woken up. He peaked around the room, trying to figure out what pulled him out of his sleep, only to be brought back to you. During the night, you had rolled out of Jay’s grasp and had managed to make it almost completely over to your side of the bed. Jay heard you whimper and figured you were having a nightmare brought on by the case from the day.

Jay slowly sat up and flipped on the light on his side table. He then reached for your back to attempt to sooth you. Once his hand made contact, he was met with an intense heat. You were sick. Sighing in sympathy, Jay quietly crept into the bathroom to look for the thermometer and a cool cloth. He was quick to grab those items and the trash can when he heard you gasp and heave suddenly.

Jay ran in and thrust the trash can under your chin just as you sat up, catching the first wave of vomit that spilled. He sat beside you, putting the cloth on your neck and throwing the thermometer down so that he could rub your back. “Okay baby. That’s it. I’m here. It’s alright.” Jay murmured, rubbing your back as you heaved 2 more gushes of sick into the trash can.

Once you were done, you were shaking like a leaf and sobbing. “J-Jay.” You sobbed out, reaching for your husband.

Jay placed the trash can on his night stand to deal with later, snagged your headband off the headboard, and pushed it onto your head before he pulled you into his chest. “I know. I know. It’s alright. You feel better?” Jay asked, rubbing your left arm and back to try to calm your shaking form.

You sobbed harder, shaking your head. “No.” You whined out. “Hurts.” You whimpered.

Jay kissed the crown of your head. “What hurts baby? Your head still?” Jay whispered, humming at the end.

You nodded, “and my tummy.”

Jay cringed inwardly. He knew this was gonna be a long night. You hated puking and when you had a fever, you were next to impossible to comfort. It was a bad combo. “Oh sweetie. I’m so sorry. Do you feel like your gonna throw up again?” Jay asked, almost as afraid of your answer as the one you were about to give him terrified you.

You nodded slightly, leaning back to look at your husband. “I don’t wanna.” You said, holding back a sob that caused your chin to quiver and your lip to tremble, absolutely breaking Jay’s heart.

Jay sighed and kissed your forehead. “I know baby doll. Wanna go to the bathroom?” Jay asked, wiping some tears from your cheeks. When you slowly shook your head and covered your mouth, Jay knew it was coming again, so he grabbed the trash can and held it under your chin.

You looked at Jay through your eyelashes. Tears were clinging to your eyelashes, blurring your vision of your husband, but you knew he was smiling sympathetically at you. You could tell he was watching you like a hawk, studying your features. Your thoughts were cut short as saliva pooled in your mouth and you gave one last frantic look to Jay before gagging into the trash can again.

Jay reached forward as you gagged, tucking a few fly aways into your headband. He gently moved toward you to wrap an arm around your back so that you wouldn’t fall back and tumble off the bed in between heaves. “That’s it. Get it up. It’ll be over soon.” Jay soothed, rubbing your back.

You were panicking. You felt like you couldn’t get a breath in during this episode. Tears streamed down you face as you gasped between heaves. You frantically grabbed onto Jay with your right hand as your left clawed at your chest.

Jay quietly cursed, thumping your back lightly. “It’s alright. It’s okay. I’m right here. Just ride it out.” Jay said, rotating from thumping your back to rubbing it as you coughed, gasped, and heaved. “Try and relax for me. Just let your body take over.” Jay coached, reaching up to flip the cloth on your neck over.

Nothing was left. Your body was trying to turn itself inside out, but nothing was left. You barely had any air left, let alone anything left in your stomach. The trash can was pretty full, so there was no way you had anything left to give. You leaned back into Jay’s arm, gasping frantically to try to regain some air and fight off the feeling of passing out.

Jay somehow managed to put the trash can back on the night stand without spilling the contents or letting you fall. He could hear you wheezing, the heaving having caused your chest to tighten and stay tightened as you panicked. “Baby. Sweet heart. Look at me.” Jay said, turning your face gently in his direction. “Slow down. It’s over. Focus on me. Breathe with me.” Jay encouraged, exaggerating his breaths for you.

You shook your head and continued gasping, gripping onto Jay wherever you could reach him. “I-I c-c-can’t. ‘M onna p-pass o-out.” You stuttered out during your gasping.

Jay’s eyes widened slightly at your comment. “You’re panicking. I won’t let you pass out. Okay baby? I need you to work with me. Let’s get you in the recovery position, okay?” Jay figured it was his best bet at the moment in case you actually did pass out, but he was determined not to let you.

You complied and let Jay lay you down on your left side. Jay jumped over you and helped slowly pull your knees up and pulled your head down. You reached out, catching on to Jay’s hand as he knelt in your line of sight. You had already started slowing down but you were still deep within the panic attack.

Jay clutched your hand in his and used the other to steady your head and keep your chin slightly tucked down. “When I squeeze, I want you to breath. Then I’ll let go and you release it. We will do it as many times as you need, okay?” Jay asked. He waited until you nodded slightly and did this process a few times.

Once you calmed down, you felt extremely tired. Your chest and stomach were sore and all you want was for Jay to hold you. Tears kept involuntarily slipping down your cheeks. “I can’t stop crying.” You whispered out, uncurling and looking up at Jay as he stood, taking the cloth and gently wiping your face down.

“That’s okay baby. It’s alright.” Jay soothed, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Let me take your temp. You’re burning.” Jay mumbled, leaning over you to grab the discarded thermometer before sticking the device in your ear. It beeped and Jay sighed, knowing this was the reason you couldn’t stop crying. You were at 102. “Your running pretty hot there princess. Let me get everything cleaned up and get some stuff for you before we go back to sleep, okay?” Jay asked, rubbing the pad of his thumb over both your cheeks to try and dry some of your tears.

You nodded numbly at Jay, completely trusting your husband when you were sick and emotional. You tried to stifle the sobs that rose in your body as Jay disappeared into the bathroom, but they escaped as you heard him talking in the hall after his phone rang in the kitchen. You heard Jay talking frantically but you couldn’t make out the words before he was running back to you at the sound of your cries.

Jay threw his supplies down at the end of the bed before gently scrambling in next to you and getting behind you, pulling you down to rest on his chest in between his legs. “Shhhh. Hey hey hey. Let’s not get all worked up. It’s alright. I’m right here.” Jay soothed, rubbing your back and kissing the top of your head. “That was Voight. He picked up a case but when I told him how bad of a shape you are in, he demanded I stayed with you and took care of you. Not that I was going to let him pull me away from you anyways.” Jay chuckled, rubbing your back some more. “He said, and I quote,’You know Halstead, you better take care of her or else we will be making a trip to the silos.’” Jay mimicked Hank horribly causing you to giggle slightly. “There’s my girl.” Jay said, kissing your head again.

Your heart fluttered at Jay’s last words. His girl. You nodded slightly, burying yourself further into his hold. “He loves me.”

Jay chuckled and nodded his head. “You, Hailey, and Kim are his soft spots.” Jay said, even though you already knew this. “Platt’s too.”

You shook your head this time, tilting your head up slightly to look at him. “Nah. We are all her soft spots. When you were taken a few months back, she was just as worried as me. Well, almost.” You said, shrugging as you laid your head back down.

Jay hummed, “Good to know.” Then he shifted slightly, kicking a water bottle and pill bottle in the direction of the headboard. “Alright, now that we have calmed down a little, how about you rinse and spit, have some gum , take some medicine for your fever, and drink some water for me?” Jay asked, grabbing the bottle and sitting up.

You hadn’t noticed that he brought the trash can back, but you were glad he did. You had no energy to go to the bathroom to brush your teeth right now. You nodded and accepted the water. You took in a gulp and swished before spitting back into the trash Jay held out to you. The gargling triggered another gag that left you hovering over the trash for a few seconds as Jay shushed you and encouraged you to breathe through it. Once you were sure it was just from the gargling, you sat back and grabbed for the gum. Jay stopped you and got you to take some fever reducers before allowing you to pop two pieces of gum in your mouth as he sat the trash can on the night stand once again. You leaned back into his chest once he was situated, reclining as you sipped on the water.

“Ready to go back to sleep?” Jay asked, taking the water bottle after you almost dropped it a second time. He felt you nod, so he grabbed a tissue for you to spit out your gum into, pulled you to lay down with him after flipping off the light and turned on the tv so that he could see you better. He pulled the top sheet over the both of you and laid awake watching muted reruns of FRIENDS until your snores were the only noise he could hear, pulling him into a light sleep under your still slightly overly warm body.

[djsherriff-responses]

technically spoilers for later Laserhen chapters and this will probably won’t happen until much later (with likely changes made , if not rewritten all together) but had to write this exchange out of my head

warning for mpreg, abusive relationships and a dubious consent situation where it’s sex or starve on the streets

also Context: Pagan agreed to let Dolph and his two kids (Troy and Lucy) if Dolph became a sex worker for him. However Pagan had a change of heart and wants something else instead

Dolph took a deep breath , slowly opening the door to the suite where Pagan was waiting for him on the bed, wearing a tiger fur robe. Dolph’s face cringed at the sight, but he didn’t have the spare energy to ask about the ethics behind that particular piece of clothing.

“Dolph….” Pagan said sickenly sweet, going over to caress Dolph’s shoulders. “You’re….…..still wearing sweatpants?” He asked, looking over the cyborg up and down.

Dolph shrugged “they’re comfy” he looked down to wiggle his own toes, just for the sake of it. “Not that it even matters, I’m going to be naked soon” a hesitant blush came over his cheeks.

Pagan frowned, clearly disappointed in the way Dolph chose to present himself tonight. “Awww come on , you should get dolled up a little…” Pagan played with Dolph’s hair, flipping it so that his cybernetic face plate was hidden from view.

“…. After all, it’s not very often someone gets the honour of having a baby with me”

Dolph eye went wide, Pagan looked intently at his confused expression. “What’s wrong, hmmm?” He asked, his tone almost innocent sounding.

“I….” Dolph stumbled on his words, brows furrowed in confusion. “I thought we were gonna fuck?”

Pagan smiled. “Of cause, how else am I gonna get you preg-“

“I meant with protection, asshole!” Dolph growled at him , making Pagan take a step back from him. “I thought this was a “trail test” or whatever! You never said anything about me getting pregnant!” Dolph glared at the crime lord, breathing heavily.

“Ah yeah , our little agreement”.Pagan sighed, his expression becoming somewhat somber. “I was looking forward to whoring you out, watching you dance on every dirty dick that enters my domain”. He wrapped a hand over Dolph’s waist possessively.

“But I changed my mind”

Dolph’s body tensed, shaking at the information being presented as his hands became fists. “You can’t do that! I can’t have Troy and Lucy living on the streets-“

“Shuuuush” Pagan placed a finger to Dolph’s lips. “You’re not getting kicked out, you three will still get to live with me…” he stroked his chin , looking hungry. “…if you do what you’re told”.

Dolph wanted to sucker punch this prick so fucking badly. Beat the shit out of him and scream until his throat hurts and Pagan was nothing more than a bloody mess between his fingers.

But Dolph has to protect his children , make sure that they don’t suffer like he did.

So, he just talks instead.

“What….what exactly do you want now?” He asked. “I thought you wanted Troy and Lucy to be your kids-“.

“Just Troy” Pagan corrected, wiggling his finger for extra emphasis on that clarification. “ Don’t get me wrong Lucy is…..” He paused, clearly struggling with his words. “…she’s interesting, but Troy is the better of the two to have, no?”

Dolph felt his pulse twitching at the disrespect towards his daughter.

“But he’s not my son. Even if we were to get married…” Pagan giggled at that concept for a moment, though Dolph just found that suggesting sickening. “…he’ll never see me as a father, learned that the hard way with Ajay…”

Dolph looked away , feeling a mixture of anger and heart ache at the mention of Alex’s new boy toy. Staring at him ,Pagan gripped Dolph’s face and forced him to look at him.

“Alex took something very, very special from me, and you’re going to give me something so much better than what Alex took that I don’t even remember what was stolen from me in the first place!” Pagan grinned , looking down at Dolph like a grinning fox ready to pounce on the helpless little hen.

Pagan let go of Dolph , who almost fell to the floor over the sudden release of his face. “There’s spare clothes in the bathroom waiting for you” Pagan tenderly kissed Dolph’s cheek, sending a cold shiver down his spine.

“Don’t take too long”

[winderlylandchime]

2/3 ‘Look it’s Emy and Bri!! Are they finally going to be good friends?’ ‘Oh Brian, is BORED BORED! He is not used of being without Justin. I love it but i hate it…exactly Ben, Brian is hurting!!! finally someone kno- FUCK YOU DEB’ *pauses tv on Mel and Linds fighting* ‘idk anything about *flaps his hand towards me* uterus stuff but can she really have a kid cause of a new procedure? (Craig comes up on screen) OH ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY NOT! NO NO NO NOOOOO!’ I need you to know that when he watched s1 and Craig gave Justin rules, he actually physically left the house and went to a store 5 minutes away (it took him 15 bc he could barely walk and yes, i did go after him bc he’s an idiot) but this time he stayed seated so maybe he’s maturing. ‘No Justin, there are better ways to pay for tuition than going to your bitch ass dad. Like becoming a hitman is always an option or selling your feet pics! But don’t throw your dignity away for that fucker. OH SO NOW BRIAN IS GOOD FOR YOUR SON? WHEN HE PAYS HIS SHIT. everyone uses him! The lesbians *quickly makes a fist for ally*, Mike, Deb, he has no one in his corner except me! THATS RIGHT YOU ARE NEVER GONNA BE STRAIGHT, take it from me Justin, it’s not all that pretty. I mean the girls are pretty and they smell nice and wear cute lipsticks but the dudes give us bad rep *looks at me in fear* am i one of the dudes?’ Craig says that Justins biggest priority as a kid was to make him proud ‘oh go fuck yourself’ *pauses and leaves the house for a smoke break* ‘Did Ben always wear glasses? Or is he just so boring that I didn’t even notice that change until now? Why is he so boring? Is it to like show the total opposite of Brian for Michael?…BEN is literally the only one in this whole show that is thinking logical about the whole moving in thing. Michael in s1! Justin now with that lil freak.. WHAT IS THIS? I didn’t even wanna move in with you for a few months after this surgery and I’ve known you my whole life..’ ‘so Emmett cheated on Ted, Justin cheated on Brian..i see a pattern but only one of those doesn’t make me want to puke..is this what their relationship is gonna be like?’ The school tuition scene is finally up!!! ‘NOW WHY IN THE FUCK IS HE HERE? Why would they put him in a scene where Justin has to talk to his school about HIS education? Whats next? He goes with him to a job interview? (The cringe lines are said) god, i wish the world was deprived of you. ITS ALREADY BEEN PAID?! LADY TELL ME WHO PAID IT! I REFUSE TO GIVE CRAIG A REDEMPTION ARC! JUSTIN IS LOOKING DOWN! CMON CAMERA PAN THE FUCK DOWN I WANNA SEE THE NAME.’ He paused the ep to give me an example of how they shouldve done a reveal of the person that paid tuition so when Justin looked down, the camera would reveal it. He is very upset that they didn’t do it like that because he would like to know who paid for the tuition and is threatening with arson if they end up treating him like Justin when it comes to Brian and the hospital visits.

Are Emy and Bri now going to be good friends? Brother is on the platonic KinneyCutt train. I love that for us.

HE PHYSICALLY LEFT THE HOUSE when Craig laid down his rules in S1? I love that. (ally!)

Becoming a hit man or selling your feet pics. I die.

Everyone uses him! I know, right?

am i one of the dudes? Brother Anon, I think I speak for all of us when I say, no you are not. You are one of us.

Ben is boring but he does think logically. I love his theory about showing Michael with the opposite of Brian… and I’m dying a little. I can’t wait for his reaction to Ben’s steroid use and his ‘roid rage towards Brian in the locker room.

The school scene. Absolutely why is Justin’s brand new boyfriend at the registrar’s office except to deliver those cringiest lines. (Excuse me while I puke)

Quickly going to the next one because we know what happens and it is so romantic…

[bewitchingfanfiction]

MCYT (2022/06/06)

The SBI meetup was supposed to be fun. They had so many ideas planned for videos and such, and had gone out to get some supplies for the different things they were going to do.

But while they were at the mall, of course one of them had to get recognized.

Except it wasn’t in the typical way.

It was much, much worse.

“Hey, it’s Tori! I know that pink hair anywhere. Tori, over here!” Techno actually froze mid-step at the name, feeling sick in his gut.

Phil, Wilbur and Tommy, who had been chattering away, brought their conversation to a halt to look around in confusion for whoever had yelled out.

They didn’t know Techno’s deadname, he never bothered to share it, because he was Techno now.

“Oh my gosh Tori, its been so long! Are these your friends?” A girl was hugging him, if he remembers correctly her name was Maya.

He cringed a little in the hug. “Hey…Maya…”

She practically jumped in shock. “Whoa- your voice is super deep! Hey wait, your face is kinda funny…”

“No way, it’s actually Tori. Girl, I haven’t seen you since out little make out at the lockers.” An arm was around his neck now.

Techno winced. “Jesse…” He remembered that day. That day he was slammed against the locker and kissed and just locked up.

He hadn’t wanted it. But it happened, and he wasn’t gonna cry about it now.

The final friend of theirs walked up, hands shoved in his pocket; Zack. “Ey, its been years, how’s life treating you, Tori?”

God he couldn’t stop flinching at that stupid name.

Phil, Wilbur and Tommy were still shell shocked, unsure of what to say or how to handle the situation.

Jesse’s eyes widened when he spotted them, grinning widely. “No way, let me guess, the one with the beanie is your boyfriend, he seems like your type.” He winked.

But the assumption nearly made both boys in question let out a genuine gag. Wilbur was like his goddamn brother, and the idea of him being anything else made Techno’s skin crawl.

And what the hell did he mean by type? Techno didn’t even have a type.

“Why don’t you guys give him a little space? Can you not see you’re stressing him out?” Tommy snapped, finally breaking out of his stunned trance with annoyance, crossing his arms.

Techno couldn’t even hide his relieved smile when Tommy spoke up for him.

Maya’s eyes widened in disbelief. “He? Tori what did you tell them?”

“Are you still going around claiming to be one of the guys?” Zack cackled at the idea. “Oh man, you guys should’ve seen Tori here back in high school, she used to absolutely destroy any guys who tried to grope her, all while declaring she was a guy.”

Techno’s face flushed a little at the reminder. Back in high school he’d been forced to wear skirts as part of the uniform, and the boys had no problem taking advantage of that.

But Techno had only put up with it for so long, until finally when a boy tried to grope his chest and he had grabbed the guy by his throat and shoved him into a locker for it.

Naturally he just got the reputation of being the type who ‘played hard to get’.

Phil scowled at them. “For your information, he’s trans. So, he’s a boy.”

“Pfft, come on, you don’t really believe that do you?” Jesse smirked, his arm still dangling around Techno’s neck like he fucking owned him or something. “Trust me, there’s tits under these layers.” He poked Techno’s chest, as if to prove his point. “I’d know.” He grinned at the memory.

But the action caused multiple reactions. Techno faced a deep red and covered his chest with his arms as Tommy yanked him away from the guy, all while Wilbur had taken the chance to punch Jesse in the face without hesitation.

Jesse tumbled to the floor in pain, people nearby were stopping to watch the scene. “WHAT THE FUCK-“

Wilbur grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and yanked him up to his face, glowering dangerously when he made eye contact. “If you ever even dare to look at Techno again, I’m going to toss you each into the fucking garbage bins, and if you’re lucky I won’t strangle you first. Get out of my sight.” He dropped the man.

His actions caused the three to look at him with mild terror, scrambling away from him, muttering about how he was a crazy possessive boyfriend or some other gross shit.

Wilbur spun on his heel to see Techno collapsed on his knees, struggling to breathe as he rested against Tommy, who was holding him up. Phil was trying to console him but Techno couldn’t seem to focus on anything.

“Tech? Techie?” Wilbur knelt down on the floor in front of him, relieved that the people watching them had dispersed when the three ran off. “You okay?”

Breathing heavily, Techno’s hands curled into fists, grabbing fistfuls of Tommy’s shirt as he trembled. “…Not a girl…”

“Oh Techie…we know that.” Wilbur assured him gently. “You’re my brilliant, twin-like brother.” He all but gushed.

Phil smiled weakly down at them. “Yeah mate, you don’t have to prove anything. We know who you are.”

Tommy smiled kindly at him. “Don’t be so sad big man, it’s not like you.”

Techno sniffled a little, still shaking as he slowly let go of Tommy in favor of hugging himself. Despite wearing his binder, a t-shirt and a jacket, he felt like he was exposed.

Noticing his discomfort, Wilbur slipped his jacket off and threw it over Techno’s shoulders, earning a weak smile from the boy.

“Let’s get out of here, yeah?” Tommy suggested as they all stood up. “Let’s have a chill movie night, Techno you can pick.”

Techno zipped up Wilbur’s jacket and grinned. “How about…Frozen.” The others groaned.

“Again? Techno we get it, you hate the movie-“

“And I want the chance to make fun of it again.”

Phil smirked. “It’s his choice boys, now let’s go.”

Everyone headed out of the mall. The three hovered around Techno, almost acting like shields, and he finally felt safe.

[candidapple]

Love your work on ao3!

I was wondering if I may request Leona with a female reader? If it isn’t too specific, could it be like a beach day and the reader is wearing a swimsuit for the first time and Leona’s getting jealous because she’s getting a lot of attention? NSFW if possible :)

Have a nice day!

a/n sorry this took so long, anon, it's just that i... got a little carried away. i hope you like how it turned out 👑💛

cw adult content, possessive behavior, some of the other boys get a little grabby, leona has a barbed dick. minors dni 🔞

leona kingscholar x f!reader

Ruggie stops slurping on his piña colada mocktail to push up the designer sunglasses he borrowed from Leona and give an exaggerated wince. “Oof. That one’s gonna hurt.”

You frown at Ruggie over the tops of your own oversized sunglasses. They were also bought with Leona’s money, but they were a gift rather than a hand-me-down. “What?” you ask Ruggie. “What’s going to hur —”

A pained cry startles a nearby flock of hungry seagulls into flight, and you snap your mouth shut, whipping around to face the source of the noise. Some distance away, Deuce is clutching his nose with both hands, the volleyball he and his teammates were playing with lying discarded at his feet. It must’ve smacked him right in the face; no wonder Ruggie cringed when he saw where it was headed.

You rise onto one knee, toes digging into your sand-speckled beach towel. “Deuce!” You want to run over there and check on him, but you don’t want to embarrass him by acting like a mother hen, either. “Are you alright?”

Deuce waves you off, flashing a weak thumbs up. You’re relieved to see that his nose isn’t bleeding, although his face does look a little red. At first you can’t tell if he’s flushed with mortification or sunburn, but decide on the latter when something Ace says makes him turn even redder. Deuce rounds on Ace and smacks him hard on the shoulder while everyone else on the volleyball court hoots and hollers, and you plop back down with a scoff. Idiots.

Ruggie snickers, widening his eyes and (poorly) feigning innocence when you shoot him a quelling look. “What? I’m only laughing ’cause he brought it on himself. If he didn’t wanna get beaned in the face, then he should’ve been paying attention to the game instead of you.”

You shift uncomfortably and glance at Leona, who’s stretched out on the towel between you and Ruggie, sunning himself. When he only flicks his tail in irritation at all the noise, you turn back to Ruggie and say, “I really don’t get it. I mean, it’s just a swimsuit.”

A fairly modest two-piece suit at that, comprised of high-waisted bottoms that cover your navel and a ruffled top that doesn’t even show cleavage; hardly a string bikini. Is it because you’re the only female student at an all-boys’ boarding school? Is it the novelty you present that has them so fascinated?

Ruggie rolls his eyes, sucking up the last dregs of his drink and smacking his lips. “Just a swimsuit, she says.” Impatiently, he hitches up the waistband of his dangerously loose trunks (also hand-me-downs, and dangerously loose because they belonged to Jack). “Lessee if you’re still singing that tune when the riot breaks out.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you say stiffly, then steal another peek at Leona. Still no reaction. Maybe he’s asleep? “That’s not going to happen, and even if it did — which it won’t — the Headmage would put a stop to it before anyone got hurt.”

You and Ruggie both look over at Crowley, who was very quick to volunteer his services as a chaperon when Kalim announced his intention to sponsor a trip to the local beach. He’s not doing much in the way of chaperoning at the moment, fast asleep in a reclined lounge chair with a paperback book draped over his face. You won’t be surprised if he winds up buried up to his neck in sand before the day’s out.

“Or not,” you mutter. You don’t know what you were thinking, really.

Just then, Leona rolls onto his stomach with an appropriately feline stretch and reaches lazily for the drink cooler, grumbling under his breath when he finds it empty. He props himself up on his folded arms, back arching and biceps tensing, the neck of his tanktop swooping low to flash dark brown nipples and a sculpted chest. He doesn’t say a word, but he doesn’t have to; his accusatory glare speaks volumes. Sagas, even.

Ruggie, who’s holding a sweating bottle of Mystery Drink you didn’t even notice him take, answers Leona’s silent rebuke with a shrug. “Hey, if you wanted it that bad, you should’ve done somethin’ about it before somebody else came along and took it.”

For some reason, Ruggie’s looking at you when he says this. Leona makes a disgusted noise and lies back down with an imperious wave of his hand.

“One of you go get some more, then,” he says, and shuts his eyes to resume his nap.

You frown at him, not that he notices or cares. “Would you like us to fan you with palm fronds while we’re at it, Your Highness?”

Ruggie snickers into his Mystery Drink, and Leona smacks you on the hip with his tail without opening his eyes. Biting back a reluctant smile, you push to your feet and heave a pointed sigh.

“I’ll go get them,” you say, heading in the direction of the communal coolers. “You’re welcome.”

Ruggie lifts his drink in a respectful salute, but Leona just rolls onto his side, putting his back to you. You resist the urge to kick sand over his head and continue on your way.

A few of your classmates wave hello or call out to you in passing, but the majority of them can only seem to stare in captivated silence — some more discreetly than others. Self-consciously, you peer down the length of your body, at the curves of your breasts and stomach and the stretch of your bare legs. You shake your head, baffled, and hug your arms to your chest as you pick up your pace. Just a bit farther to the drink coolers, and then maybe you’ll detour to the changing room and throw on a t-shirt —

Or maybe you won’t be doing either of those things, seeing as a pair of long, lean arms just snaked around you from behind and squeezed.

“Where’re you off to in such a hurry, Shrimpy?”

Dammit. Of all the times to run into these two.

Jade steps neatly in front of you, looking distressingly good in a pair of sleek purple trunks, his cheeks and shoulders freckled with scintillating grains of golden mica. You imagine Floyd looks much the same. Too bad you’re in no mood to enjoy the view.

“Afternoon, Prefect. Are you enjoying your day out?”

Jade makes you sound like a dog at the park. You push at Floyd’s arm, but it’s no good; you don’t think he even felt it. The diplomatic route it is, then.

“Look, guys.” You try to sound firm but not rude, because you really don’t want to piss them off when Floyd’s in the perfect position to squeeze your innards out through your eye sockets. “It was nice of you to stop by and say hello, but I’m kind of busy right now.”

“Huh?” Floyd digs his fingers into your abdomen — not painfully hard, but with enough of a pinch to make you think of sharp teeth trying to burrow into your guts. Ulp. “You didn’t look busy. Why don’t you come and play with us instead?”

What, as in play with their food? Hard pass. “I really don’t think that’s —”

Jade smiles disarmingly. You are not disarmed. “No need to look so untrusting, now. We only wanted to ask if you were in the mood for a swim. The water’s quite pleasant, you know.”

You’re probably overreacting, but you think of every story you’ve ever heard about mermaids drowning hapless sailors at sea and instinctively start to struggle in Floyd’s arms, throwing desperate looks across the beach toward Leona and Ruggie. Leona still has his back to you, but Ruggie’s frowning in your direction. He leans down and says something to Leona, but you can’t tell if Leona responds, or if he’s even awake.

Either way, you can’t just wait around for them to rescue you. You’re preparing to execute Plan C (Plan C is biting Floyd on the arm and hoping you’re fast enough to outrun them) when someone reaches into the fray and pulls you free. You’re tucked safely into the newcomer’s side, their smooth skin brushing yours, a glossy tumble of coppery curls flirting with your peripheral vision.

“C’mon, boys, give the poor thing a little breathing room. How’s she supposed to enjoy her day of fun in the sun with everybody fighting over her like the last strawberry tart at an unbirthday party?”

Liquid relief courses through you. You’re so happy to see a friendly, ulterior motive-free face that you stop checking if Leona’s gotten up. “Cater!”

Cater hugs you around the shoulders and tosses you a wink. “Hey there, cutie. Thought you could use a Cay-Cay in shining armor.”

Floyd pouts, thwarted, but Jade only clasps his hands and smiles agreeably. “As gallant as it was of you to come riding to the lady’s rescue, Cater, I can assure you that we bore her no ill will.”

“Oh, no doubt,” Cater says breezily. “But sweetie pie over here was looking just a tad bit uncomfy from where I was sitting, so I thought I’d swing by and make sure. It’s an upperclassman’s job to look out for the little baby freshies, right?”

You give Cater’s waist a grateful squeeze, and he flashes you a camera-ready smile. “Hey, light-bulb moment.”  Cater produces his phone from who-knows-where — do his swim trunks even have pockets? — and taps the screen awake with his thumb. “How ’bout we take a quick selfie? We’re bound to get a ton of likes with this scrumptious little thing taking center stage. Hashtag #BeachDay.”

Jade cups his chin and chuckles quietly — at your expense, you’re sure. “I certainly wouldn’t mind. What do you think, Floyd?”

“Um, actually,” you cut in, “I was just on my way to get changed, so…” You shrug Cater off and start to back away slowly. “Rain check?”

“Awww,” Floyd whines. “You’re gettin’ dressed already? How come?”

So people will stop staring at me like I’m an exotic animal at the zoo? “Uh, well, I kinda ran out of sunblock —”

“You can borrow some of mine,” Cater says helpfully. Shit. You scramble to formulate a new excuse.

“That’s, um, really sweet of you to offer, but the thing is if I don’t use this one specific brand of hypoallergenic sunscreen I tend to break out in super bad hives — not a pretty picture, let me tell you — so I’ll juuust — beonmywaynowbye!”

With that, you turn tail and flee, kicking up clouds of sand that irritate your eyes as you practically sprint to the changing room. You don’t even stop by the coolers first; if Leona’s that thirsty, he can march his ass over here and fetch his stupid drinks himself.

The changing rooms are located on a silty patch of land where the beach rises to meet the scrubby grass. The building itself is nothing to write home about; just a long, low wooden shack with an open doorway and a pitted tin roof, a half-deflated orange life preserver hanging off the northern wall as if to add a splash of color to an otherwise painfully drab view. To you, it might as well be the goddamn Palace of Versailles.

You begin to relax the moment you step inside the narrow building with its two rows of wooden changing stalls, your feet sifting through the thin layer of sand that’s been tracked in here by all the beachgoers who have come before you, and which will eventually be washed away the next time it rains. The shack isn’t wired and the rough-hewn walls are bare of the magestone-powered lamps that light much of NRC, but there’s enough sunshine filtering in through the doorway and the high paneless windows for you to see by. You pluck off your sunglasses, fold them, and set them down on the narrow ledge that serves as a shelf.

You should hurry up and change before someone comes looking for you, but you hesitate, frowning down at the glasses. They’re sleek and sturdy and they look like money, and when Leona first gave them to you you’d badgered him about the price until he finally told you just to shut you up. When you tried to return them, reluctant to accept such an expensive gift, he said if you didn’t want them then you might as well throw them out, since he had no use for them.

You kept them, obviously. Mostly out of spite, but also because you were not-so-secretly happy he’d thought of you.

You huff, irked (with yourself, with the twins, with him), and crouch by the pile of duffel bags and backpacks to dig for your things. So Leona didn’t throw a hissy fit just because some other guys looked at you sideways, so what? It’s not like you want a crazy possessive boyfriend who can’t stand to see you breathe in anyone else’s direction.

You successfully excavate your bag and yank the zipper open with a hiss of metal teeth. You tell yourself your eyes are stinging from all the sand you kicked up earlier, that’s all.

But, god, couldn’t Leona have acted just a little bit annoyed?

“The hell’re you hiding out in here for?”

You startle and clutch your shirt to your chest, right over the uneven kick of your heart. You swivel around to scowl at Leona, looming in the doorway and backlit by a halo of sunlight that dyes the tips of his hair and ears a dark, molten gold. It almost looks like he’s wearing a crown. You suppose that’s fitting.

“What am I doing?” You stand up, still gripping your shirt like a cotton shield. “What’re you doing, sneaking up on me like that? Should I get you a collar with a bell for your next birthday?”

He crosses his arms and leans a shoulder against the door jamb, then hooks one ankle over the other to complete the picture of perfect of indolence. “Try it and see what happens. And I didn’t sneak. Ain’t my fault your senses are so dull.” He wrinkles his lips back from his fangs and yawns. “I saw you scurrying off this way like a scared little mouse, so I followed. Got a problem with that?”

You twist your fingers in the folds of your shirt, tugging the elastic collar out of shape. “I’m just surprised you bothered to notice,” you mumble, mostly to yourself.

Of course, since Leona’s senses aren’t nearly so dull as yours, he hears every word. He puts back his ears, jaw ticking. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” you say curtly, and pull your shirt over your head before bending down to root for your denim cutoffs. Maybe you’ll head back to campus early; with the mood you’re in, what point is there in sticking around other than to make yourself even more miserable?

But then a broad, dry hand fits itself to the curve of your shoulder and tugs you back against a warm, firm chest, and your senses may be weaker than his but the scents of sweat and sunshine perfuming his skin are still strong enough to make your nostrils tingle. You didn’t even hear the sand rustle beneath his feet when he snuck up behind you, again.

Collar, you think, squeezing your hands into fists. Bell.

His jaw brushes your cheek as he lowers his head, long hair falling over his shoulder to tickle yours. “If you’ve got somethin’ to say, then say it.” He curls his other hand around your hip, palm burning you like a firebrand through the worn cotton of your shirt. “You know I hate that passive aggressive shit.”

“You’re one to talk,” you retort, thinking of the petty heights Leona’s capable of climbing whenever a certain fairy prince is involved. “And I’m not being passive aggressive. I just don’t feel like picking a fight with you right now.”

“Heh. Maybe I wouldn’t mind a fight.” The hand on your hip roams up and over to your belly, well-maintained claws plucking at your shirt. “What’re you wearing this thing for, anyway?”

You snag his wrist with half a mind to push him away, but you just end up holding on to him, feeling his pulse thump steadily away beneath your fingers. You lick the taste of salt from your lips and say, “I was thinking of heading home.”

“Yeah? What were you gonna do — walk the whole way back?” Leona hooks his fingers in your collar and tugs it down your shoulder, sweeping his thumb over the newly exposed skin to trigger a wave of shivers that start at your neck before crawling all the way down to the root of your spine. “What’s the matter, herbivore? Sun getting to your head?”

Something’s getting to your head, alright. “Sure,” you say thinly. “Let’s go with that.”

Leona makes a chuffing noise and presses his nose to the crook of your shoulder to breathe you in deep. You feel something tickling your leg and realize it’s his tail just before he slips it beneath your shirt to wrap it tightly around your thigh.

“That right?” he drawls.

You’re not surprised when he cups your breast and circles his palm over your nipple until it flares up full and stiff, but it still rocks you. Good thing he’s holding on to you, because you don’t trust your legs to support your weight right now.

He drags his tongue up your neck, and as you shudder in helpless reaction you wonder — not for the first time — how you might taste to him. Beneath the sweat and sunblock, do you taste savory or sweet? Can he taste the heat of your blood pounding beneath your skin?

Leona’s tongue retreats with a parting nip of shivery-sharp teeth. He pinches your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pulling on it through two layers of fabric until it almost hurts, only to let go just when you’re ready to whine for him to stop. He draws you back against him and presses down on your stomach, coaxing your hips to rock.

“’Cause I can think of a few good reasons for you to stick around.”

You’re awfully interested in hearing these reasons, all the better if they’re accompanied by a practical demonstration, but then a dark smudge flutters by one of the windows and kicks you back to reality with a cold, hard jolt. The shadow you just saw was too small and too high up to be anything but a bird, but there’s a very good chance that next time, it won’t be just a bird.

You dig your nails into Leona’s wrists and feel him lift his head to look at you. “Not here. Anyone could walk in. There’s no door.”

“Huh?” Leona stills his movements, tail coiling tighter around your thigh before abruptly loosening. He growls low in his throat, then says in the aggrieved tone of someone who is being greatly inconvenienced, “Fuck, fine.”

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t disappointed, but it’s for the best that you pumped the breaks. Exhibitionism as a concept might give you a wicked little thrill, but being fined for indecent exposure decidedly doesn’t. You start to turn in Leona’s arms, reaching up to give his satin-smooth cheek a conciliatory stroke.

“It’s okay,” you tell him. “We can always —”

Pick this up later, is what you were going to say, but the words get caught in your throat when Leona turns you the rest of the way around, settles your feet on top of his like he’s teaching you to dance, and walks you backwards until your back thumps gently against a wall. The sunlight beaming in through the open doorway is extinguished with a creak of unoiled hinges, leaving only the light coming through the narrow windows to see by, and you blink rapidly as your eyes struggle to adjust to the sudden change. Leona shifts against you, and you hear the scraping click of a rusted lock being shot into place.

He’s shut the two of you up inside a changing stall.

“There’s a door now,” Leona informs you, just in case you missed it. His breath warms your lips and his lashes scrape your cheek, the green glow of his eyeshine flickering as he blinks. “Happy?”

“Um.” You grip the hem of his top and fidget, then go still when he presses his hips flush to yours, tail sliding up your leg to circle your thigh once more. “Someone could still walk in, though?”

“Let them,” Leona says dismissively, bowing his head to drag his teeth over your shoulder. You have to lock your knees to keep them from wobbling. “If they try to peep, I’ll kick their ass.”

“Because violence is the answer to everything,” you say, more breathlessly than you’d like. You’re supposed to be the voice of reason here, but you can’t help but press your face to his shoulder in turn to take a deep, shuddering inhale of his sweat-and-sunshine scent, tongue darting out to taste him.

Leona’s tail flexes around your thigh, the tufted tip rubbing up against the cleft of your cunt through your nylon bottoms. A gasp escapes your open mouth, and his answering laughter rumbles down your spine like a sine wave through a tuning fork.

“Not everything,” he says. He slips his hand down your back to give your ass a smug squeeze, and something inside of you snaps, then dissolves. Your sense of shame, maybe.

By now, your eyes have adjusted well enough for you to just make out the fanged curve of his smirk. You’re going to wipe that look right off his face, you decided, and push up on your toes — still overlapping his — to catch his full lower lip between your teeth and bite down, hard.

Leona snarls and jerks back his head, lip pulling free of yours like a stretched rubber band snapping back into shape, then presses back in to take your lip between his teeth. He bites down, more gently than you had, but it still stings because he has fangs. He worries your lip between those fangs like it’s a tender cut of meat he wants to savor, only relenting when you yield with a whine. He swipes his tongue over the bloodless dents his teeth left behind, then tilts his head and gathers you close to give you a proper kiss.

Your lips bloom beneath his, one hand fisting tightly in his shirt while the other burrows beneath his hair to curl around his nape. You licked the taste of salt from your mouth only a few moments ago but now you taste it again, along with the tang of sunblock and the fizzy sweetness of some soft drink. Leona’s tongue is rough in your mouth, the heavy ridge of his hips pinning you in place against the half-rotted wall, which groans in protest beneath your combined weight.

You are briefly concerned about splinters, then quickly forget to care when you feel a tugging on the hem of your shirt. Leona’s trying to undress you, and you know from experience that he’ll just tear your clothes and replace them later if you don’t move fast enough to suit His Highness.

You obligingly raise your arms, then help him wrestle out of his own shirt, blue arcs of static crackling through the air when you drag it over his head. You smooth down his mussed hair and twine your arms around his neck, every square inch of your skin prickling with delight at being pressed so close to his. Your pulse pounds in your ears, your bruised lips a slick, swollen echo of how you feel between your legs. You turn your head to kiss him again, but he denies you, nipping your chin before dropping to his knees.

Your knees start to wobble again, and you brace your hands against his shoulders to keep yourself standing. You’ll never get used to seeing him like this, never get used to knowing that you’re the only person he’d ever kneel for, that he’d make his beautiful face into a throne just for you. You’ve already sweated through your bottoms in the heat, but now a pulse of anticipation slicks your cunt with a thicker, more viscous kind of moisture, your suit’s stretchy nylon crotch clinging to you like sticky paper.

Leona wets his lips and inhales through his nose, scenting your arousal like a wine bouquet. You whimper, knees finally giving out, and he catches you. Squeezes your hips. His hands are so big his fingers curve all the way around to your ass.

“Hey. Were you really gonna make me wait until later?” He licks a filthy trail up your inner thigh, spined tongue abrading your skin like a pumice stone. “Smells to me like you wouldn’t’ve lasted that long.”

That earns him a tug on his hair, another privilege afforded only to you. “Shut up.” The sharp tone you meant to adopt is belied by the obvious quiver in your voice. “Don’t be disgusting.”

Another slow, indulgent lash of his tongue makes you wonder if he enjoys the taste of salt on your skin, be it sweat or sea spray. “You like it.”

You do — not that you’d ever admit to it. “I told you to shut — ah.”

Your legs jerk, thighs trembling so hard your knees would knock together if Leona hadn’t shouldered between them to mouth at your sex through your swimsuit bottoms. The fabric is just thin enough for you to feel each individual spine on his tongue as it scrapes over your lips and clit like sandpaper, rubbing you raw. It’s not an unpleasant sensation, but it does skirt the edge of too much, to the point that you’re already squirming even with the fabric in the way.

He lifts one hand to tap you smartly on the ass, making you jolt. “Knock that off and hold still. You’re gonna gimme a black eye.”

You bristle at the order but lock your knees and do as he says, because if you don’t he might stop, and you don’t want to have to beg him to keep going. Leona chuffs, pleased, and hooks his fingers in your bottoms to ease them down an inch, then two, uncovering your navel and hipbones. He sweeps his tongue up the slope of your lower belly, so you have to fight even harder not to squirm — but then he stops, and hisses. Really hisses, not at all like a human but exactly like a cat, a wet, angry, spitting sound that makes your skin break out in goosebumps.

“The fuck is this?”

The fuck is what? you wonder dazedly. You look down, eyes skittering past the angry glow of his to land on the hands wrapped jealously around your waist. Only then do you comprehend what he meant: etched across your stomach are a series of thin, shallow scratches, brilliantly red in color and obviously the work of someone’s nails. Looking at them, your heart gives a hard, anxious thump.

“It’s nothing serious,” you say quickly. Your hands flutter like nervous birds across Leona’s shoulders, which feel coiled to spring. “I’m not hurt. Floyd was just messing around earlier and I guess he must’ve scratched me on accident.”

Leona’s upper lip lifts at one corner to flash a curved canine tooth. He’s not angry with you, but you’re still shaken by the intensity of his reaction to something so minor. What happened to his earlier indifference?

Maybe… maybe he wasn’t as indifferent as you’d thought?

“Yeah, I know,” Leona grumbles, surprising you into silence. “You think I didn’t notice him hanging off of you like a damn coat? I was about to come over there and knock him on his ass when you ran off.”

He rocks forward on his knees and pulls a mouthful of your flesh between his pointed teeth, sucking hard like he intends to cover Floyd’s marks with his own, then releases it with a damp pop just as you begins to ache. He leans his forehead against your stomach like he doesn’t want you to see his face, ears laid flat along his skull.

“Bad enough I had to listen to Hunt singing your praises from all the way across the damn beach earlier.” The low register of his voice rumbles through your abdomen like an echo in a chamber, sinking into the cradle of your hips to hum through your clit. “Now I’ve gotta go gut a fuckin’ fish, too.”

Ah. So he is jealous.

You school the dopey grin that wants to unfurl across your face and say, reasonably, “Rook sings everyone’s praises. And you’re not going to gut anyone.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Leona says in a way that makes it clear he’s not really listening and is only acknowledging that you spoke at all to keep you off his back. He tugs your bottoms down another inch, bunching them up around your hips, then wraps his tail around your right ankle and pulls. “Now c’mon and lift your foot so I can get you outta these fuckin’ things.”

Your stomach swoops as if he reached inside you and tugged. Oh, you think, okay, and hurriedly lift your foot, clutching Leona’s shoulders for balance while he works the bottoms down your legs. With one leg freed, you start to lower your foot so you can lift the other just for Leona to leave the bottoms slung around your left ankle and rise fluidly from his crouch, muscles flickering beneath his skin like shadows cast by the noonday sun. He braces one hand beneath your ass to hoist you up and pushes the other between your legs to squeeze your cunt.

You yelp and cling to Leona’s arms, your head spinning drunkenly as the floor falls out from under you. Chuckling, Leona nuzzles into the crook of your neck and dips two fingers inside of you as if testing the waters. When he feels how wet you already are, sweating in the humidity and sticky with arousal, the folds of your cunt squishing beneath his fingers like carpels of pulpy, overripe fruit, he breathes out a satisfied groan that seems to resonate in the very core of your stomach.

You answer that groan with a pleading whine, hugging his hips with your thighs and digging your toes into his waistband to try and push it down. You can feel the bulk of his dick through his shorts, so close to where you need him but not close enough, driving you half crazy with hot, frustrated want.

Leona gives your throat a reprimanding nip. “Pipe down. Someone could walk in, remember?”

Leave it to Leona to throw those words back in your face while he does everything in his power to ensure that you can’t pipe down, angling his wrist to stroke his thumb over your clit and thrust his fingers deeper inside you like he’s searching an oyster he dug out of the sand for pearls. You tighten up around him, digging your nails into his arms to press little red half moons into his sun-warmed flesh.

If he’s gonna play it like that, then so will you.

“If you’re that worried about someone walking in on us” — you push your heels against the small of his back, nudging his trunks down another inch — “then why don’t you hurry up and fuck me before they do?”

Leona snarls in your ear, and your scalp pulls taut, the hair on the nape of your neck standing straight up. “Who the fuck’re you ordering around?”

He pulls his fingers out of you with a harsh twist of his wrist and yanks up your top, smearing your breasts with warm, gooey streaks of your own slick, then shoves his hand back down between your legs to push at his shorts until his cock springs free to slap your cunt. Your thighs tense and your clit tingles, heart leaping into your throat.

Leona huffs impatiently and hauls you closer, claws scratching lightly at your ass. “Why’re you clamming up now? You’ve taken it before.” He curls his hand around the root of his cock and presses the damp, flared head to your opening like he’s nocking an arrow in a bow. “You’re the one who said to hurry up and fuck you, so let me fuck you.”

Your cunt wrings out another gush of syrupy moisture at the blunt reminder of what he intends to do to you, and because you want him to do it to you, you try your best to unclench even as your thighs begin to shake from the strain of staying spread around his hips. Leona grunts through his teeth and hefts you up a little higher, cockhead slipping further down your slit to breach that first shallow inch. Shallow, yes, but still deep enough for you to feel a familiar prickle.

Unlike him, you are entirely and mundanely human, but you still arch your back like a cat in heat to take him deeper, your clit throbbing so hard you can feel the pulse of it in your ears as the barbs crowning his shaft rake your cunt like dozens of blunted claws. The first time you saw them, you nearly balked, certain that the two of you would never be able to fit together without blood and pain. Obviously, he proved you wrong — again and again and again.

Now he scrapes his cuspids down the apple of your cheek and laps up more of your sweat with a pass of his rough tongue. “Maybe you don’t want me to hurry.” He drags his hand up your thigh, hitching your leg higher around his waist to tilt your hips and sink in another prickling inch. “Maybe you want somebody to walk in and see.”

You mean to tell him that’s the very last thing you want, but all that comes out is a gasp, that wicked little thrill from earlier returning in full force to quiver in your belly and tighten the walls of your cunt. Leona hisses through his teeth at the squeeze and pushes forward till his chest crushes your breasts flat, hooking your knees over his elbows so he can palm two covetous handfuls of your ass. You feel strung up, weightless, pinned on his cock as if on a spear. Your legs tremble harder, your toes curling so tight they cramp.

“Fuck,” he bites out, half growling, half laughing. “You really do, don’t you? Who would’ve thought the little herbivore had it in her?”

When he says “in her,” he braces his feet and thrusts up his hips, fucking the rest of the way in until there’s no more room left, barbs snagging on your walls to hook him deep inside of you. Those barbs catch against your clit on the way out and your foot gives a reflexive kick, a garbled moan falling from your mouth. Leona licks your chin, a gruff purr rumbling in his throat. It’s a comforting gesture, but if you thought it meant he was finished teasing you, you really should’ve known better.

“You want those assholes outside to see me fucking you like this? Huh?” His tail bats your legs as it lashes back and forth, his spined shaft scouring your cunt as he fills you and fills you and fills you with cock. “You want them to know I’m the only one who can?”

His next thrust knocks your ass against the wall but you are too far gone to spare even a fleeting thought for splinters, for anything that’s not the wet glide of his cock inside you, stuffing you to the brim. There’s sand between your toes and a growing ache in your back and you are going to walk away from this stiff and sore all over, and you don’t care, you don’t care so long as he keeps fucking you just. Like. This. You duck your head to lick a trickle of sweat from the swell of his chest and he growls, butting your head aside with a thrust of his chin so he can run his nose up your neck and suck your earlobe between his teeth.

“But I’m not gonna let ’em look,” he mumbles, grinding his hips in a tight, hot circle. He pushes your knees back till they almost touch your shoulders, winding every muscle in your body tense as a spring with your cunt coiled taut at the center. “I’ll fuckin’ kill them if they look.”

Something in you seizes but doesn’t release, trembling, waiting. Waiting for him to drag his cock halfway out of your sex, barbs raking your clit to pull your building orgasm out of you by the heels. You bite at his shoulder with your nubby human teeth, stomach cramping, cunt pulsing, and he buries his groan in the crook of your neck like he doesn’t want you to hear it. One-two-three more thrusts plant him so deep inside you you can feel his head pressing at the back of your throat as a treacly warmth floods your cunt and trickles down your thighs, dousing you in the scent of him.

You don’t doubt that was his plan all along.

You come down in fits and shivering starts, your orgasm’s pulsating aftershocks growing weaker and weaker with each passing minute. Enough of those minutes have gone by in total silence for you to wonder if Leona’s fallen asleep standing up when he finally speaks.

“Hey,” he grunts. He doesn’t lift his head from your shoulder, either because he’s too lazy to bother or because his cheek’s been glued there by your sweat. “The next time some grabby asshole touches you without your permission, you fucking tell me.”

You blink over his shoulder at the dust motes spiraling through a bright beam of sunlight, a ticklish kind of feeling stirring in your chest.

Oh, you think. Not just jealous, then — worried, too. You hug him as tightly as you can with your noodly arms and legs and comb your fingers through his sweaty hair, even daring to give him a brief scratch behind the ears. He grumbles and butts your cheek lightly with his forehead, and you smile.

“Okay,” you say softly. “Just don’t get yourself expelled for my sake, alright?”

Leona scoffs. “If Crowley didn’t expel me for wrecking the Spelldrive Stadium, then he’s not gonna kick me out over a couple of snot-nosed brats who had it comin’.” He shifts his feet, dick tugging at your insides and making you wince. “You good to walk?”

“No promises.”

You let him ease you out of the human pretzel he’d contorted you into, pulling a face when his cum oozes down your leg to splatter on the floor. Leona smirks faintly, unrepentant. Not that you ever expected him to be.

“Hold on.” He hitches up his trunks with one hand and unlocks the door with the other, ducking outside. He returns a moment later with a t-shirt dangling from his fist and proceeds to wipe you clean, gentler in his post-coital contentment than he ever is otherwise.

The shirt isn’t his, or yours. You frown at him, tugging your swimsuit into place while he loops his tanktop over his head. “Whose is that?”

Leona just shrugs and tosses the soiled shirt aside. Someone’s going to be extremely unhappy about that. “Leona, you can’t just —”

“Trust me, you do not wanna go in there.”

You freeze and shoot Leona a panicked look, but he just scrubs his hands through his hair and yawns, sleepy and satiated. You don’t hear the rest of the conversation clearly, just an indistinct back-and-forth, but it doesn’t last long. When the voices outside fall silent, Leona flicks his ears and turns to leave.

“C’mon.”

You really don’t want to, but it’s not like you can hide in here all day — or you could, but you doubt Leona would let you. Resigned to your fate, you grab your sunglasses and head outside to face the music, the music in this case being Ruggie’s disgusted scowl. You don’t ask him how long he’s been standing guard for; you’re probably better off not knowing.

“Ugh, seriously?” Ruggie mutters, already turning away like he can’t bear to look at the two of you. You can’t say you blame him. “You owe me a week’s worth of meals for this, Leona. No, two. No, four —”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

Leona presses a hand to the small of your back to nudge you forward, and it’s only when you feel his bare skin on yours that you realize you forgot to change into your t-shirt. Peeking at Leona’s profile and taking stock of the aching tenderness that persists between your legs, you decide you actually don’t mind going without it so long as Leona’s there to scare your more tenacious admirers off.

Crowley’s being buried up to his neck in sand by Epel and Grim, and Ruggie’s going on about how he doesn’t get paid enough for this crap. You take Leona’s warm hand in yours and he lets you keep it, tail twining loosely around your thigh.

You think you’ll have a talk with Kalim about funding another trip to the beach sometime very soon.

[marvel1stan]

Bully Pt. 2

Summary: Part two of bully!

Warnings: Smut smut smut

Suggested: yes/no (feel free to send requests!)

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You begin to realize your colossal mistake of confronting the most powerful witch in the world as her grasp on your wrist tightens.

She practically throws you both into the bathroom. The door clicks and your heart drops.

"Wanda I'm sorry. I don't know what got in to me." You whimper.

You cringe at how weak you’re being and wonder what Natasha would say if she heard this.

She lets go of your wrist when your back is against the wall. She almost looks nervous as she stands in silence for a moment.

You make an attempt to bolt but she pushes you back, this time holding your shoulders down.

Your heart beat quickens, and you begin to feel something in your stomach. Butterflies? No, no. You hate her, remember?

You replace your view of her eyes with the bathroom floor, not daring to look back up.

"Relax, Y/L/N. It's not like I would hurt you." Her hands ease a little on your shoulders, but not enough for you to leave.

Your eyes quickly dart back up to hers, the sudden change of emotion startling you.

"Have you forgotten what you’ve been doing this whole year?" You whispered, eyes moving back to the floor.

"Don’t be such a baby, detka." She lets out a chuckle.

"What are we doing in the bathroom, Wanda? Just please let me leave.” You sigh, waiting for her to hurt you.

"You embarrassed me in front of the team, Y/N. I can't just let you get away with that." Her grip tightens once again and you close my eyes in fear.

“You embarrass me everyday, Wanda.” You’re shocked at the fact that you’re actually fighting back, a little proud of yourself too.

You feel her fingers graze your chin, bringing your eyes up to hers.

"Yes, but I’ve never said those two words to you before. Those words are very hurtful, detka.” She says slowly.

You instantly know what she’s talking about.

"Wanda , I-"

"Say it."

“What?” You whisper feebly.

“Say it to me again. Unless you’re too scared..?” She smirks.

“No, I’m not scared of you. You have to stop treating me so badly.” You raise your voice a little, testing her limits.

“You see, I want to listen to these demands, but if you cannot do the simple task of repeating what you said to me a couple minutes ago, then how can I respect you enough to treat you well?” Her Sokovian accent is peeking through every word.

Her hand grazes your thigh, causing your cheeks to fill with red.

"Uh…I said…f-fuck you.” Your voice is timid, terrified of what might happen next.

“Do you want to?” She asks harshly.

“W-what?”

“Do you want to fuck me, Y/N?” Her gaze never leaves yours as she softly strokes your cheek.

"Because if you didn’t mean it like that, then those words were meant as an insult. And insults really hurt my feelings, Y/N.” She moves her body closer to yours with every word.

“Well, I-“

“I think you owe me an apology." Her face is less than inches from yours, your heartbeat increasing by the second.

"You've never apologized for anything you've done to me."

"Well maybe I can make it up to you." She moves her hands down slowly, stopping when they've reached your boobs.

"Wanda, what are you doing?" Your voice is barely above a whisper, your head and heart going wild.

"Tell me to stop." She waits for your response, not wanting to do anything without your word.

"I don't think I want you to." Without another second she crashes her lips on to yours.

Your hands gravitate to her ass and you give it a gentle squeeze. She takes this as a sign to take your shirt off, revealing your bare chest.

"Wow, you didn't wear a bra today? Was that for me, you slut?" She caresses both of your breasts, moving her lips down to your neck, leaving hickies everywhere.

Up until this point, you haven't done much of anything to her, you’re a little scared she's gonna rip your head off or something.

You eventually work up the courage to lightly put your hand on her boob, your stomach filling with butterflies as soon as you do.

"That's all you got, detka?" She breaks her lips from yours and you already miss the contact.

"Can I-um- may I take off your shirt?" She smiles sweetly for the first time ever, instead of her usual bloodcurdling smirk.

"Wow, you're adorable." You take this as a yes and grab the ends of her shirt and pull, revealing her dark red, laced bra.

Your lips lock back on to hers as you feel every inch of her boobs, loving it more than you should.

She quickly pulls down your pants, and you internally kick yourself for wearing Harry Potter pajamas. You feel her hands reach up your legs, pulling your underwear aside. You quietly gasp and she pulls away.

"Do you want this, detka?" You nod and she smiles, quickly continuing.

Her fingers find their way to your clit, and you softly moan as she grazes over it.

She makes small circles as the tension slowly builds up. She begins to go faster, your moans becoming louder.

Her lips move down to your nipples, taking one into her mouth and caressing it with her tongue.

You moan so loud that she firmly presses her hand against your mouth.

“Try to be quiet, detka, don’t let them hear us.”

Right after she says this, she lightly bites your nipple, causing an ever louder moan to tumble out of your mouth.

She instantly raises her head back up and presses her lips against yours in an effort to silence your moans. She uses her fingers to play with your nipples as you moan into her mouth.

“You’re so helpless aren’t you, Y/N? You just can’t seem to stop being so loud. Is that because of me, detka? Do you like it when I touch you?”

You try to reply, but she rolls your clit between her fingers, causing only moans to escape your mouth.

“I know, detka, I know.” She places her lips back onto yours as she shoves her tongue into your mouth.

Once she’s sure you’ll be quiet enough, she slowly kneels down and kisses your thighs. Her head moves further as you feel her fully pull down your underwear.

Her tongue replaces what her finger was doing and it somehow feels even better. She teases at your entrance, only making the tension build more.

"Wands, please-" She starts sucking your clit while rubbing her tongue all around, going faster and faster.

Your legs become so shaky to the point where she has to hold them so you can stand.

You can feel yourself getting closer and closer as you pull her hair, needing something to grab on to. You push her head closer to your clit begging for more contact.

"I'm gonna-" You feel myself release into her mouth, moaning uncontrollably.

“Mmm, good girl.” She smiles into your pussy, helping you come down from your high.

"Hey, uh- guys? You alright in there? Wanda hasn’t killed you, right Y/N?” Natasha asks from behind the door, startling you both. Her head practically shoots up from out of your thighs as she quickly stands up.

Thank God the door was locked.

She grabs her shirt and forces it back on, scrambling to find yours.

"Yeah- uh...just a minute!” You yell while Wanda helps you with your shirt.

"Nothing happened." Wanda whispers in my ear.

"W-what?"

"Do not tell anyone about this. You hear me, detka?"

“Why? So your perfect reputation of you hating me doesn’t get ruined?”

“Well, a little bit of that, but there are just things that I don’t want people to know.” She sighs.

“Yeah, like what?” You pry, but quietly, considering the whole team could be behind that door.

“I just…nothing.”

"Well it must be something, because up until 10 minutes ago, you hated me."

"Yeah, well, I like you, detka. So don’t tell anyone if you want this to happen again." You smirk as her cheeks turn red.

"What?" She asks.

"You like me?" You whisper, completely shocked.

"Will you just shut up, please.” You nod and she opens the door revealing a confused looking assassin.

Wanda mutters something harsh in Sokovian and walks away. Natasha fixes her gaze onto you, but you continue to look at Wanda, bewildered by what just happened.

She winks and goes into her room, leaving you and Natasha alone.

“Um, what was that about?” She asks.

“Oh, nothing. We just….talked.”

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Tag list: @mysticprofessorweaselhands @celluloiddreaming @sweeties-and-sparkles

[eberles]

Stay With Me

Rafe Cameron

a/n: omg my first rafe fic in so long!! i hope you all enjoy, feedback is welcome and encouraged

disclaimer: this is FANON rafe, please don’t send me hate for writing about him, also this takes place in season 1 technically, no spoilers

warnings: smut (unprotected sex, eating out, fingering, riding, slight praise kink) 18+

“C’mon baby, just a few more minutes.” Rafe mumbled into your neck, giving you a few wet kisses as your eyes fluttered shut.

“I'm gonna be late for work…” you groaned, Rafe’s teeth nibbling into your neck making it hard to focus on your train of thought. All he had to do was pick you up and drop you off at the country club, that’s it. And yet here you are, perched on his lap, parked in a dark corner of the large club lot.

“You’re already here.” Rafe pulled away from your neck, cupping your jaw as he looked at you. His blue eyes bore into yours and all you could focus on was him. Your secret boyfriend. You wanted to roll your eyes just thinking about it, the whole thing was so stupid, but neither of you were prepared to face the consequences of letting your relationship out. “Go in, i’ll see you later.”

You smiled at him, pulling him in for one last kiss, tangling your fingers in his hair as his warm lips captured yours. Every kiss with him took your breath away, but that wasn’t the only thing.

“Save some of that for later.” you pulled away with a smirk on your face, crawling over the center console of his truck before swinging your bag over your shoulder and getting out. Turning around real quick you shot Rafe a sultry wink, one that had him adjusting himself in his pants before driving off, a subtle blush rising on his cheeks.

You were honestly dreading work tonight, but you needed this job so you didn’t have much of a choice. Tonight was Midsummers and it should be fun for all the kook’s in Outer Banks, but for someone like you who has to wait on rich pricks all night, you weren’t looking forward to it. Rafe showed back up a few hours later, his family in tow and looking sexy as hell in his baby blue suit. You licked your lips eyeing him from across the bar, absolutely ready to fucking devour him later tonight.

You made your rounds throughout the night, getting people the drinks they wanted and happily flirting your way to more tips. You pretended not to notice the chaos the other pogues were causing or the fact Sarah was sneaking around with JohnB. Your mind is constantly drifting off to Rafe, and how you’d rather have him buried inside you instead of fetching him a mai tai.

Rafe caught you by surprise when you pulled you into one of the locker rooms on your way to the club kitchen. You gasped, his hand covering your mouth as your back collided with the door. Rafe chuckled as your eyes widened once you recognized it was him, letting out a short sigh of relief.

“What are you doing?! Do you want us to get caught?” you whisper-yelled, running a hand through your hair before peaking over his shoulder to check if anyone else was in the room.

“I like this outfit you're wearing.” Rafe complimented, hands attached to your waist, his fingers creating a fire throughout your body.

“Ha-ha, very funny.” rolling your eyes, you made a move for the door, not wanting to stand here while he made fun of your uniform.

“I’m being serious, princess.” he truly was unbelievable, thinking you looked hot while wearing dress pants and a white button down, oh and don’t forget the bow tie and vest they’re making you wear for the occasion. “I can’t take my eyes off you, and it’s been even harder keeping my hands to myself.”

“Oh I'm sure you’ll manage for a few more hours.” fake pouting, you lightly tapped his cheek before standing on your tippy toes and pecking his lips. “Wait a few minutes before coming out alright?”

It wasn't long after you both left the locker room before you saw his father pinning him to the side of the building. Cringing, you watched his father hold the collar of his suit jacket as he yelled at his son, who was doing his best to keep it together. Rafe has confided to you about his relationship with ward, about how he’s the least favorite child and always the one fucking everything up for the ‘family business.’ It broke your heart to see it up close and personal for once after months of Rafe confiding in you about it.

Ward finished scolding his son, smoothing out Rafe’s blue suit jacket before walking away as if nothing happened. He re-joined Rose at the bar with a smile on his face as he ordered a drink and made small talk with other rich members. All while his son was holding back tears and telling himself he needed to be stronger, he needed to ‘man up.’

“Hey…” your voice was gentle, but Rafe still jumped when your hand made contact with his shoulder as his back was facing you. He turned around slowly, sniffling quietly and putting on a smile for you. “Let's get out of here, yea?”

“What about the rest of your shift?”

“I doubt they’ll even notice I'm gone.” Rafe nodded, not noticing the look on your face as he agreed to leave with you, hopefully you still had a job come Monday morning. Taking your hand in his and bringing you around the back of the building so no one could see you together. You drove in silence, the dark sky providing a sense of comfort for the both of you. When you pulled into his long driveway, you looked at him confused, “Uh Rafe?”

“Will you stay with me?” Rafe mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper as he searched your eyes for any hesitation. Months and months together and you’ve never actually been to his house before, always having a special spot you went to when you wanted to be alone.

“Of course I will.”

Rafe led you through the large home to his bedroom, his hand never leaving yours as you followed him, doing your best to take in everything at once. This is the biggest house you’d ever been in and sure it was a home just like any other, but even the wall art was more expensive than any furniture you ever owned. He closed and locked the door behind you saying something about how no one would bother you guys.

When you thought about tonight you pictured rough sex in the back of Rafe’s truck parked on the beach or in an abandoned parking lot. You never expected to be wearing one of his shirts as you laid in bed next to him, your head planted on his chest as you drew shapes against his skin. You fell asleep in his arms, legs tangled together, with one of his hands in your hair massaging your scalp. The only thing Rafe needed tonight was someone to be there for him, to hold him and tell him everything was going to be okay.

You woke up feeling Rafe pressing kisses into your neck, they were soft and warm against your skin as your eyes fluttered open. A small smirk appeared on your face as you spoke, “well good morning to you too.”

“Mornin, baby.” Rafe pulled away from your neck, hovering his face above yours, his lips teasing your own. “I wanted to thank you for being there for me last night.”

“I'll always be there for you, love.” Rafe hummed in response, hovering over you, his blue eyes turned dark with lust as you felt him growing against you. His head dipped down to your neck kissing and nipping at the skin, leaving small marks as he made his way down to your collarbone and chest. Rafe knew everything about your body and just how to get you begging and whimpering for him. “Rafe…”

“What do you need, baby?” Rafe asked, spreading your legs apart and pressing his knee against your core, a small whimper escaped your lips. A fire was building in your body, a heat you've never experienced before, your skin was tingling, and your heart was racing as you looked up at the man above you. You needed him and you needed him now.

“Don’t tease me, Rafe.” you attempted to grind yourself down on Rafe’s knee, doing anything you could to fulfill the craving you had for him. He moved down your body, his hands pulled on the hem of the shirt you were wearing, giving you his signal that he wanted it off. Your breasts fell free, leaving you in just a pair of lacy underwear, a low groan coming from Rafe as he looks at you. Under his stare you felt like the most beautiful, the darkness of his eyes showing nothing but lust and adoration for you.

Rafe hooked his fingers in your panties swiftly pulling them down your legs and taking his spot between your thighs. His hands wrapped around your legs as he pressed his lips on your inner thighs, lightly nipping at the skin. He moved your thighs over his shoulders, his face hovering over your center, his breath teasing your clit making you squirm in his grip. Your heels dug into his back as your back arched off the mattress once his tongue collided with your slick pussy. He hummed against you, swiping his tongue over your slit, finally tasting you.

“Fuck, Rafe.” your hand flew to his hair, tangling your fingers in his locks, pulling at the ends as a string of moans and curses left your lips. His expert tongue works on your pussy, swirling around the sensitive bundle of nerves as he swipes a finger through your slit. The coil in your stomach was already bubbling over, your orgasm ready to crash over you in blissful waves once he added a finger, pumping it a few times before adding another. The cold metal of the ring he wore created a nice cooling sensation against your hot core, your pussy clenching around his fingers. Rafe fucked his fingers into you at a steady pace, curling them inside you to reach that sweet spot which finally pushed you over the edge. “I'm g-gonna cum Rafe, d-dont stop.”

Rafe’s tongue stayed connected to your clit, softly biting on the small bud, his fingers buried inside you as you came, milking you through your orgasm. Your head fell against the pillows as your vision turned white, your thighs trembling around Rafe’s head. He pulled away slowly, looking up at you, loving the way your lips parted and his name fell from them, sounding like the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. You’ve never come harder than you did right there. “Where did all that come from?”

“I told you I wanted to thank you, didn't I?” Rafe moved up your body, laying on his side as his elbow held him up as he looked at you. Your chest rising and falling still attempting to catch your breath from the mind blowing orgasm you were given. He leaned down to kiss you, smiling into the kiss as you tasted yourself against him.

“I assumed you saying thank you...was the thank you, but wow...” you pant, watching a proud smile spread across Rafe’s face as you fed his ego with praises. You leaned in closer to him, brushing your lips against his as you spoke, “I want you to fuck me, Rafe.”

“I love how you're always ready for more.” Rafe fed his own ego now, pulling his boxers down and kicking them off the side of his bed. You straddled his waist, running your hands down his chest and abs, slowly teasing him with your fingers. You kissed under his collarbone, sucking the skin between your teeth making sure to leave red and purple marks behind, claiming him as your own. His cock was hard against his abdomen, leaking pre cum as your wet pussy sat against the base. “Please baby, I-I need to be inside you.”

You kept your eyes on him as you moved your hips against him, his length sliding between your slit, brushing over your sensitive clit. Your juices coated his cock, your warm center already having Rafe twitching below you, he could cum right now if he wanted to. You grabbed the base of his dick, lining it up with your entrance and slowly sunk down on him.

Both of you happily sighing as he entered you, your walls contracted around him as you started moving your hips. Rafe’s hands rubbed your thighs and ass, squeezing every now and again before giving you a light slap. One of your hands rested on his chest for leverage, the other rubbed circles into your clit as you rode him.

“Fuck, you feel so good around me.” Rafe groaned, quickly growing restless seeing as he didn’t have control. His arm wrapped around your back as he flipped the two of you over, your legs immediately going around his waist as he buried his cock inside you again. His strokes were long and rough as he pounded into you, his pelvis brushing your clit with every thrust.

Whimpers and pleas flew out of your mouth, scratching his back with your nails, his thumb pressed to your clit. The combination of that and him filling you made you see stars. “Rafe,I-”

“You gonna cum for me?” you whimpered at his words, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your orgasm hit. “Go ahead baby, cum for me.”

Rafe fucked you through your orgasm, speeding up his pace as you moaned his name. Your walls tightened around him, his orgasm following yours. His hips stilled as warmth filled your insides, his forehead pressed to yours as he came. He slowly pulled out of you, low whines left your throat as he collapsed on the bed next to you.

Rafe threw his arm around your shoulder, pulling you against him as you laid in silence. listening to each other’s heartbeats, this was the only place you wanted to be. “You know I love you right?”

“Of course I know, and I love you too.” you confirmed, looking up at Rafe, his eyes soft as he looked into yours. Caressing your cheek with his thumb, and leaving a kiss on your forehead.

“Marry me.”

taglist: @bb-nhlqueen7 @barzysandmarnersbitch @outerbankies @moniamaybank @matbarzalschain @pogue4life @beauvibaby

[9tzuyu]

ticket for one

prompt: accidentally taking someone’s seat at the movie theater

note: i am not at all afraid of horror, i loveeeee horror movies. but i had to work with my imagination. gonna try and push myself more to write :). hope you guys enjoy. thank u moli for proofreading.

🏷 : @wandaromanova @c-is-writing @nermalina

. . .

it wasn’t often that natasha was able to go out and enjoy a life of her own. she was needed almost 24/7 at her job. natasha wasn’t one to complain, but even the most skilled and profound agents couldn’t avoid exhaustion.

she needed a break. and per natasha’s request, she asked for a few weeks off several months prior.

a touch of normalcy greeted natasha as soon as she arrived at her destination. it was a small, forgotten town just a few states over, but it was one that functioned perfectly fine on its own. she felt lighter being away from new york, like she could finally breathe on her own.

the maryland wind kept natasha’s lips dry and chapped while loose red hair brushed against her face. her hands were shoved deep in the pockets of her jacket in an attempt to stay warm. she felt small.

“for such a well-trained spy, you sure know how to forget the basic necessities,” she mumbled to herself.

natasha didn’t have anything in particular planned for the day. she would probably stop by the store and pick up a few essentials, maybe go to the park and sit for a while. it was only a three-block walk, not far at all compared to the hikes she’s had to do for missions.

on her way there a brightly lit cinema caught the russian’s eye. she stopped in her tracks. natasha couldn’t remember the last time she went to the theaters. a vague memory of her and yelena dragging melina into the theater flashed across natasha’s mind.

her eyes followed the dimly lit board to see the 80s version of house on sorority row was playing. she bit her lip, finally giving in when she was greeted with the smell of freshly made popcorn. natasha was just in time too, the trailers for other movies would still be playing.

and even though natasha had a comfortable amount of confidence, she couldn’t lie to herself, it did feel pretty awkward asking for one singular ticket.

human nature, she supposed.

she was quick to select a seat on the digital screen, picking the farthest one away from the screen on the outside corner of the aisle.

however, when natasha made her way into the theater, she frowned. someone else was already sitting in her selected seat. it was a dumb thing to be annoyed by, she knew that, but she needed to sit there. natasha wasn’t one to shy away from confrontation either.

so the redhead made her way in front of your line of view.

“uhm can i help you?”

natasha hated that you looked so adorable as you stared at her.

“you’re in my seat.”

“o-oh, i’m sorry.” you blushed shyly, squirming your way out of her seat and down a few spots. there was a gap of 4 chairs between the two of you. she watched as you embarrassingly made yourself comfortable in your newly selected location.

you’d never been more thankful for a nearly empty theater in your life. lucky for you, the movie began to play.

but fifteen minutes later you found yourself staring at the redhead. she looked half tense, her fingers tapped on the armrest. then you noticed her choice of clothing – a grey sweatshirt with perfectly fitted sweatpants, but not the kind you’d wear around your house. your eyes traveled to her face, and oh my god you’d never seen a woman more beautiful than her.

“i know you didn’t pay to stare at me the entire time now did you?” her tone of voice was lighthearted, so you knew she wasn’t being rude.

and once again, you’d embarrassed yourself in front of the woman.

“i didn’t pay at all actually,” you stammered. “sorry for…. staring.” she nodded her head and averted her eyes back to the screen. you followed suit, this time promising yourself not to make any more awkward mistakes.

you completely missed the grin natasha had on her face. she found it kind of funny that you’d snuck in, but she couldn’t really blame you. movie tickets weren’t always worth the cost.

throughout the movie natasha could see you shift uncomfortably out of the corner of her eye, sometimes cringing at bloody scenes. she giggled before moving to sit next to you.

“sneak into the wrong movie?” her voice startled you causing your hand to fall over your chest. your eyes snapped down to her lips, only to be met with a smirk. “hi.” you whispered softly. natasha almost instantly caught on to the fact that you didn’t recognize her.

she didn’t want to sound arrogant or anything, but she’s an avenger. who didn’t know about the group of six? nonetheless, the russian relaxed a little more knowing you wouldn’t bombard her with questions.

“do you need to hold my hand?” her teasing nature and the fact that she was drop-dead gorgeous completely wrecked your brain. the mystery woman raised her eyebrow in question, clearly still waiting on your answer.

“i don’t even know your name.”

“natasha.”

you nodded, “well, natasha, i’m y/n. and yes- yes, i’d like to hold your hand.” she flipped the armrest up so you could be more comfortable before clasping her hand in yours. you felt warm in contrast to her cold fingertips and you took note of the softness of her skin.

neither one of you knew exactly what you were doing, but you both surprised yourselves by enjoying the other’s company.

a third of the way through the movie natasha looked down to see you unknowingly leaning into her side. it was cute.

“first you’re in my seat, now you’re cuddling into my arm. are we on a date, y/n?”

when you realized how close you were to the complete stranger of a woman, you pushed yourself away. apologies began to spill out but natasha was quick to cut you off by cupping her hand over your mouth.

“do you plan on sneaking into any other movies today?” you shook your head, confused as to why natasha was asking you this question. “do you have any plans after this?” once again you shook your head.

you were just about to ask her why she was questioning you when she cut you off.

“then let me take you out on a date.”

“what?”

natasha hid her nervousness – because honestly, what the hell was she even thinking? asking a stranger to go out on a date with her?

she licked her lips, “would you like to go out- on a date with me?”

you broke out into a smile, squeezing her hand for reassurance. “yes, i would love that.”

who knew such a simple mistake could result in a pretty woman taking you out on a date?

[rebeccccccaaa]

ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ _____________________

ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ’s!ʙᴇsᴛ!ғʀɪᴇɴᴅ!ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʙᴀʀɴᴇs ᴀᴜ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You and Buck have always been close growing up but you two soon learn that the line that separates friendly and flirting is a lot thinner than you think.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: fluff, slight angst bc u got a shit bf, big bro vibes from bucky, smut duh [18+ minors dni (slight praise but also slight degradation, marking, belly bulge, squirting, fem!rec oral, unprotected sex, plz be safe irl, slight choking, pet names: darling&princess, i think that’s it lmk plz)]

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs: hey assholes i'm back for the time being lol. I have a few ideas and fics I'm currently writing right now so do not fret.

______________________________________

You knew this was a horrible idea. 

It’s Saturday night and you and your boyfriend were back in another night club after being kicked out from one just hours before. Daniel had gotten too drunk, as he always does, causing you to kindly ask the bartender to cut him off. Daniel didn’t take that too lightly resulting in a gnarly swing at the poor guy just doing his job. 

Security threw you out and Daniel called an Uber to go where you thought was going to be your apartment but twenty minutes later you pulled up to another club practically on the other side of town. You yelled at Daniel but he pushed aside stumbling inside for yet even more drinks and mistakes waiting for him inside. 

You sat at the bar simply drinking some water and snacking on some peanuts keeping your eye on your garbage boyfriend. You're constantly checking the time on your phone, annoyed with every passing minute. It was 2 am and you just wanted to go home and sleep. You were even debating texting your brother Steve hoping you could just crash at his place not too far from where you were but it would be incredibly irresponsible to just leave Daniel in the state he’s in. 

So you waited and waited and waited. Your eyelids felt heavy and your energy was just completely drained. You were basically a zombie. It wasn’t until a guy approached your half asleep body that you felt a sense of alert. Daniel was shit-faced so you were practically defenseless. 

“Hey,” the guy shouted over the music.

“Sorry, I’m not interested. My boyfriend’s-” you quickly said, only to be cut off.

“Don’t worry. I’m not gonna hit on you. I’ve got a boyfriend of my own,” he chuckled, making you breathe out in relief. 

“Sorry,” you cringed at yourself. 

“It’s alright; but uh, I hate to be the one to tell you this. You might want to check with your boyfriend,” he said sympathetically. 

You pushed your way through the crowd scanning every face in search of Daniel. What did he do? Is he hurt? Did he get in trouble again? Is he getting arrested? Where is he-

“Daniel?” you said eyes tearing up a bit. 

His arms were wrapped around another girl’s waist as he kissed her the way he kissed you. She practically moaned as their tongues slobbered disgustingly with each other. Their hips grinding against each other proactively as if you weren’t even there. Sadness turned to anger, and anger turned to rage, gripping Daniel’s short hairs and pulling his head away from whoever this girl was. 

“What the fuck?” the girl complained, her eyes completely bloodshot. 

“Did he tell you that he was here with his girlfriend tonight?” you're sad with gritted teeth. Daniel stumbled around still unable to register what the hell was happening. 

“Oh my god, you forreal?” she said.

“Who fucking cares? She’s a prude anyway. I got more action with you than I did her in the past, what, six months?” Daniel slurred. 

“You know what, you’re a fucking prick, dude. She deserves so much better than you; I bet your dick is small anyway,” the girl said.

“Fuck you too bitch,” Daniel spit. 

“I can’t believe you,” you said. 

“Oh, whoop-dee-doo, big fucking surprise. Babe, you’re a prude. Can’t you see it? I don’t know why I’m wasting my time with you anymore,” he practically puked out the words without any second thought. 

“Fine, then I hope you enjoy the rest of your night, you fucking asshole,” you stormed away holding in the tears; he wasn’t worth it. 

Almost three am and you just dumped your cheating lowlife boyfriend on the other side of town. Steve wasn’t answering his phone and you even wanna be near the club anymore. Walking speedily staring at your screen desperate to call an Uber home, you bumped harshly into a hard chest falling to the ground on your bum. 

“Fucking hell, I’m so sorry, darling,” the man said helping you up by your elbows.

“It’s ok. I wasn’t looking- Bucky?” 

“Oh, hey kid. What are you doing? It’s like three in the morning and you don’t live anywhere near here,” Bucky said, crossing his arms. 

“Daniel got himself kicked from the one by our apartment and Ubered here instead.”

“So where’s Daniel?” Bucky scowled; he’s always hated that guy, so did Steve.

“Probably fucking some other chick in the bathroom,” your voice cracked. 

“What?”

“It’s nothing; I just want to go home,” you cried.

“Hey, it’s ok; it’s ok. Do you wanna crash at me and Steve’s? He’s gone for the weekend with Peggy; you can stay in his room at least for the night,” Bucky offered; so that’s why Steve’s not answering his phone. 

“I don’t wanna intrude on your night. I can just call an Uber, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. Steve’ll kill me if he found out I left his baby sis alone in the streets of New York at three in the morning. It’s not a problem, we were just bar hopping and I stopped drinking ages ago.”

“Are you sure, Buck?”

“Of course,” he smiled warmly at you. 

“Hey, Nat!”

“What’s up?” a beautiful redhead approached you both.

“Gonna head home ; don’t do anything stupid,” he chuckled. 

“You too,” she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, “Catch you Monday?” 

“You’re stupid. I’ll see ya,” Bucky laughed before grabbing your hand and headed towards his apartment. 

“Thanks again, Buck. For letting me stay here tonight,” you said once you entered his apartment. 

It had been a while since you hung out at your brother’s apartment but nothing’s changed. Typical men and their inability to change even a throw pillow. You set your small bag on the couch before Bucky led you to Steve’s room. There were pictures of you and him posing at Steve’s graduation; and later your own. Pictures of Steve and Bucky at a theme park, during a bar-be-que for Steve’s birthday. So many memories that Steve held onto in his room. 

“Time really flies doesn’t it?” Bucky said, slightly startling you.

“Sorry,” he chuckled.

“No, you’re fine. But you’re right. Feels all these pictures were taken yesterday,” you reminisced. 

“I got you some clothes if you need to change; I’ll give you privacy,” Bucky said, slipping from the room briskly. 

You sat on the bed frustrated with everything. Your body was so drained from being up so early in the night, to the fight with Daniel. The past couple months with him were so awful. He was just so mean to you all the time and you didn’t know what you did wrong. Where did it go wrong? When did things shift?

"Is everything ok, darling?" Bucky asked quietly, knocking on the door when you hadn't come out after a while.

"What did I do wrong? I thought he loved me," you choked out. 

Bucky sighed as he walked over to the bed sitting beside you before engulfing you in a warm hug. You cried into his shoulder and Bucky couldn't help the anger that bubbled inside him for your excuse of a boyfriend Daniel. He never got along with the guy and now he finally has a reason to knock his teeth in.

"You didn't do anything, I know it. That prick wouldn't know love if it hit him in the face. It's his loss. You deserve so much better than that asshole. Look at me, you're so beautiful and funny and fucking adorable; any guy who can't see how perfect you are, is a dense piece of shit." 

"James," you whispered. 

His words made your heart skip and your stomach flutter. But Bucky’s always had that effect on you. Even growing up. You weren’t going to sit there and pretend that hearing his words hadn't had a deeper effect than they would’ve coming from Daniel. Sometimes you wondered what being with Bucky would be like. You’re not the first to admit how handsome Bucky was and growing up you did have quite the crush on your brother’s best friend.  

You don't know what it was, whether it was the alcohol still swimming through your veins, or just feeling so vulnerable being in Bucky's arms but you wanted him badly. You needed him, needed to feel something again. And you knew he could give it to you. You pressed your lips to his and in an instant his hands dropped to your hips pulling you impossibly close against his body. Your hands went to the back of his head as you kissed him messily. Your noses bumped and teeth clashed but it was the best kiss you’ve ever had. 

“Fuck, your brother’s gonna kill me,” Bucky mumbled, almost to himself, as he slowly laid you down on your back.

Bucky’s hands trailed up your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh every now and then as he continued kissing you passionately. Your own hands couldn’t help but tug at his shirt desperately. When he did so, your breath was completely taken away. It had been years since you’d seen Bucky without a shirt. 

Not only had he been quite skinny just like your brother back then, but not long after leaving for college with Steve he was in a bike accident that left him with ghastly scars and burns along his left arm and shoulder. Since then, it’s fair to say Bucky never really ever took his shirt off. It had taken years just for him to remove the glove he’d always wear to cover the scars on his hand.

“You’ve gotten so strong, James,” you grinned, reaching out to brush the flexed muscles running down his front. 

He simply stared at you with an anticipating and anxious expression on his face, waiting for you to state the obvious. When you didn’t, when you pulled his head down to kiss him once again, he almost cried. Bucky hadn’t been with a woman in so long, afraid of this very moment. He knew at that moment, there was no one quite like you. 

Bucky fell in love. 

“Let me take care of you, darling. You’ve been so good to me,” Bucky whispered huskily in your ear as he trailed his hand under your own shirt brushing his fingertips along the underside of your breast.

His lips pressed softly against your hot skin along your neck before standing up between your legs at the end of the bed. He pulled your shirt off then played cheekily with the straps of your bra that you still had on. You smiled back at him with the same playful stare, reaching behind you to unclasp the material. 

You could see the way Bucky’s eyes darken and his pupils widened as he stared in awe at your naked chest. Your skin bursted into chills under his hungry gaze even though you felt like you were burning up. Bucky leaned forward kissing down the valley of your breasts, nipping once in a while playfully before laying you back down. He shimmied you out of your bottoms easily, kneeling on the ground leaving you completely bare before him. 

“You are absolutely stunning, princess,” Bucky whispered, running his hands up your thighs slowly. 

“Bucky, please. I need you,” you whimpered. 

“Don’t worry, darling. I promise I’m gonna take good care of you,” he smirked devilishly. 

He pushed your knees open, eyeing the arousal that glistened between your thighs. He brought his fingers up to you slowly rubbing your slick around before finally pushing a thick and long finger past your folds. Your body shuddered solely at the foreign but pleasurable feeling, already moaning softly. 

Bucky’s cock strained through pants upon hearing your beautiful moans; they were like music to his ears. He couldn’t help the way his hips would buck into the mattress in a desperate attempt to relieve some pain from his erection. Soon after he pulled his fingers from you slowly only to thrust them further in you, curling his fingers just right. 

He brought his mouth down to you, wrapping his lips around your clit sucking harshly. You gasped and your back arched, overwhelmed with pleasure Bucky was giving you with just his mouth and fingers. All the times that you’d given yourself to your ex, he had never made you feel this good before, feel this full; let alone with his fingers. Bucky was taking his time with you solely for your own pleasure and it made your heart swoon. 

Your legs trapped Bucky’s head between your thighs, squeezing as he continued to eat you out like a starved man. Your hands went to his hair pulling on his dark locks causing Bucky to moan deeply against you. You were so close to a release; your legs shaking violently and your stomach tightening. 

“Come on, princess. Want you to come all over my face. Can you do that for me, darling?”

“Fuck!”

“Be a good girl and make a mess,” Bucky teased.

His fingers moved faster as he swirled his tongue around and over your clit just as quickly. You were becoming overwhelmed and that coil bursted in the pit of your stomach. You pushed Bucky’s face from you, shrieking with pure pleasure; Bucky’s kept the rapid pace with fingers as you fell over the edge.

“Fucking hell, that was so hot, princess,” Bucky said standing up; his fingers, arm, his chest was covered in your arousal. 

“Did I do that?” your voice trembled. 

“Because of me,” Bucky winked playfully.

“I didn’t know I could do that,” you let your head fall back on the bed as you briefly caught your breath.

Bucky grabbed his shirt that he discarded not long ago and quickly wiped his chest and arm before discarding his pants and boxers. He nearly moaned at the feeling when he finally freed his dick from the restraining garments. His hand instantly wrapped around the base before pumping himself a few times. 

You brought yourself onto your elbows momentarily ogling at the sight of Bucky completely bare before you. Your mouth practically watered at the sight. Bucky crawled over you kissing you deeply and messily; but perfectly. He pulled away and you both had goofy smiles on your faces before bursting into a fit of giggles, Bucky’s head burying into the crook of your neck.

“You’re so goddamn adorable, princess,” Bucky’s voice was muffled. 

“Bucky,” you whined. 

You couldn’t resist squirming underneath the burly man. Although, you’ve just had what was probably the best orgasm you’ve ever had, you wanted more. You needed more; you needed Bucky. 

“I got you, darling. I got you.” 

Bucky wanted to tease you more, make you beg, but he was just as desperate to feel you as you were. He propped himself up on his elbows kissing you one last time before reaching between your bodies and lining his dick with your entrance. Both you and Bucky moaned simultaneously as he stretched you out; curses spilling from his lips as incoherent moans fell from yours. 

“So fucking tight, princess. Squeezing my cock just right, aren’t ya?” he whispered.

“Fuck, I feel so full,” you whimpered.

Bucky began to slowly move his hips in and out of you deliciously. He quickly picked up the pace, jetting his hips rapidly making your moans louder. Bucky sat up on his knees and gripped your waist surely to leave bruises in your wake. This new angle surprised you and you couldn’t help the squeals and moans that left your mouth. You chanted Bucky's name like a prayer; as if it was the only word you knew. 

Bucky watched you carefully, your face contorting with pure euphoric pleasure. He couldn’t help notice the small bump in your lower belly and without a second thought, he grabbed your hands pressing them firmly over your tummy. 

“You feel how deep I am, darling? Fucking poking through,” Bucky grunted. 

“Shit! Oh, it feels so good,” you moaned. 

“That’s right, no one’s ever gonna fuck you this good again. This pussy’s mine now,” Bucky growled. 

He took one of his hands and wrapped it around your throat squeezing the sides gently but firm at the same time. Your eyes rolled back and you moaned even louder, confident that the neighbors were sure to complain in the morning. Feeling Bucky’s hand around your neck was so exhilarating; you and Daniel had never ever experimented with anything beyond a pair of handcuffs, and that particular night went horribly. 

You like being choked by Bucky. 

“Fucking slut; you like this, don’t ya?” he came down to whisper huskily against your lips. 

“Mh-hm,” you moaned with a devilish grin, your bottom lip resting between your teeth before your eyes rolled back again. 

“Such a fucking beauty you are.”

Bucky hips snapped in and out and he knew it wouldn’t be long until he needed to release.

“God, I’m close, princess,” he growled. 

His hand moved to rest on the back of your neck to pull you up so you straddled his thighs and your chest was flushed against his. Your sensitive and hardened nipples brushed against his slightly sweaty skin causing you to shudder in pleasure. Bucky’s lips attached themselves to your skin along your collar bones sucking harshly leaving purple marks all along.

Your legs shook once again as they did before and soon enough with an arched back and shout of Bucky’s name you came all over his cock. Overwhelmed with your sex, Bucky bit harshly on your shoulder in a poor attempt to muffled the loud groans and moans he elicited. Feeling your velvety walls squeeze tightly around him pushed him over the edge, coating your walls with hot ribbons on cum. 

He fell forward almost crushing you but you were too tired to complain. Bucky continued to pepper soft kisses all over your skin whispering how good you were to him, how beautiful you looked. Just absolutely showering with compliments. You felt him slowly getting off you, probably afraid he was crushing you, but you didn’t want him to leave just yet. 

“Don’t,” you whispered, wrapping your arms tightly around his body. 

“I don’t want to crush you, darling.”

“You’re not.”

Bucky chuckled before settling completely above you, careful not to make you uncomfortable. Hardly any time went by when he felt the even and soft puffs of air hitting his skin, sure that you had fallen asleep. He picked himself up and with major guilt for his best friend, picked you up from the bed and walked you to his own room. 

After he was sure you stayed sound asleep, Bucky grabbed a clean pair of boxers and hurried himself to Steve’s room again. He collected all the discarded clothes and the dirty sheets and tossed them in the washing machine to clean right away. 

He hadn’t meant to fuck his best friend’s little sister, let alone in his own room, on his own bed, but it all happened so fast. 

He went back to his room letting the clothes do it’s thing, and quickly grabbed his phone. He messaged Steve, telling him that when he got back for his weekend with Peggy, he really needed to talk to him. 

Tonight made Bucky realize how much he loved you. Growing up, you two had always been close. But he doesn’t know when he stopped being friendly and instead began flirting. Bucky wanted to be with you; he knew it now more than ever. 

Bucky watched your gorgeous sleeping form on his bed. He smiled to himself before opening the window; the sun already rising and those beautiful golden rays seeped through the glass window, making you look angelic. He crawled into bed cuddling flushed against your naked body. He chuckled softly when you realized he’d returned, wiggling even further into his arms. 

“I love you, Bucky,” you mumbled. 

“I love you, too, darling.”

And he really, and truly did love you. As did you love him. 

=======================

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