#the brightest bluest ass ever

[epicqtefail]

every time i draw it feels like i'm committing so many aesthetic sins, but especially so when i'm colouring. and every time we kiss i swear i could fly

[baby-tini]

In yandere DabiHawks poly fics, reader is always clinging to Hawks.. I mean it's understandable. Hawks is friendlier, more open, outwardly affectionate and he's something Dabi struggles with... he's caring. But putting that aside, what if reader clung to Dabi instead 🤔

Dabi has always been intense, cerulean eyes that stare into your soul, big hands that like to grab at your throat- pull at your hair, the power to wield the brightest, bluest flames you've ever seen- and oh oh don't forget, he's not skinny and scrawny, he's packing quite a bit of muscle under his clothes. Everything about him screams, "STAY AWAY" and "RUN." But you obviously don't see the warning signs that are so blatantly there or you just really don't care, Dabi's not sure yet. Hawks despises it though, he's the hero, the good guy- he protects civilians from people like Dabi for fucks sake, so why do you cling to Dabi so fucking much, hm? Anytime they both come home Hawks hugs you and while you do reciprocate, it's half-assed. Giving him a loose hug before twisting out of his grip to run towards Dabi and jump on him, basically making out with him while Hawks has too watch and sneer. "Hey babydoll, you miss me, hm? You nod at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him, fisting at Dabis hair to keep him close. Dabi chuckles, slipping his tongue into your mouth as he opens his eyes to stare at Hawks, the ladder scoffs and walks away. At first, when Hawks and Dabi come to the agreement to share you and had taken you away, brought you to Hawks nice penthouse with a beautiful overlook of the city, Hawks was so sure you would favor him. It had taken you a little while to even warm up to them but for you to cling to Dabi when he was so mean to you at first pisses Hawks off and you make it so obvious you prefer Dabi. You don't even kiss Hawks, just a peck before he leaves for work and then you're bouncing over to Dabi with a gleam in your eye, plopping down on his lap as Hawks leaves more irritated then before. Hawks couldn't even explain how many times he's come home from an exhausting day of hero work to see you riding Dabi, grinding down on his cock as you whine like a bitch in heat, screaming Dabis name, begging to cum on Dabis cock.. but no, no, never Hawks. The only reason you let him kiss you is because you're so cock drunk on Dabi that you don't notice. Head thrown back as you whine, eyes screwed shut tightly with your nails making pretty red lines on Dabis chest. That's one of the only times Hawks can kiss you and even then, Dabi still smirks in his face, cause he knows, he knows you don't really like Hawks and he uses that. Dabi will fuck you over the kitchen table, timing your orgasm to when Hawks walks through the door. Just for him to scowl as you scream for Dabi. For the months you've been here, Hawks has never fucked you by himself, Dabi is always in the room or even inside you. You don't make a fuss when Hawks makes out with your pussy only because Dabi has you occupied with his tongue in your mouth and a hand around your throat. "There you go baby, letting the little hero eat your pretty pussy, huh?" Hawks glances up at you from his place between your legs, you nod at Dabi, not looking away from him as you continue to kiss him, licking at his tongue. That. That shit pisses off Hawks, he's taking the time out of his day to make your pretty pussy cum for and you don't even look at him. That won't fly with Hawks and he makes sure you know that as he slaps your clit a couple times. It has you keening backwards, into Dabis chest, whining out as you attempt to arch away. "You disrespectful bitch, I'm eating your pussy, making you cum in my mouth and all you can say is Dabi.. are you fuckin serious slut?" He pushes himself up from his stomach, grabbing you by your throat to pull you towards him. "You're so far up his fucking ass you won't even kiss me, won't tell me you love me or even hug me.. but you'll do all that and more for that prick, won't you bitch?" You try to thrash around, reaching towards Dabi and whining for him but that just pisses Hawks off more. Hawks pulls you towards the edge of the bed and pins you down. "You'll learn to love me angel, I'll make sure of that."

[batsyforyou]

Lillies in the Library

Tags: Nakedness, crack, dream, poem, 1st person pov

Pairing: Glorfindel x reader

Author's Note: This was written by like 15 year old me. The original prompt was given to me by my creative writing teacher at the time and it was 'what would you do if you woke up to your favorite character in your bed?' I made it into a fanfic and made it a dream where a modern person was dreaming of nightmare Glorfindel every night because they were torn apart soul mates. I clearly dropped it like a hot potato. But I still laugh at myself every time I see it so I decided to post it so everyone else can laugh with me.

Warning: It's not good lol.

Lilies in the Library: Prologue 

The path of two strangers collide,

 A river divides them, though the stream is gentle, 

Traveling their way across may not be possible,

The venture deemed unsafe, though untested 

But this does not sway their curiosity 

They walk alongside the river’s edge

Where white daisies grow, in the fields they wonder

Content as they were to know each other this way 

But soon they ached for more,  

If they tested the waters depth,

Then maybe . . .

Lillies in Library Chapter 1:

A warmth consumed me as I slept, hot sunlight seeping into my skin and heating me from the inside. I shifted, stretching my legs and curled into myself, the silk sheets of my bed making an excellent pillow. Humming a little sigh I truly felt content, after all, it had been a long while since I could actually sleep in for once. With all the customer complaints, the late nights, my boss being an absolute prick, and my manager making an ass out of himself (as usual) it was about time I got some well deserved R&R. 

Soon though, I knew I would have to eventually venture out of bed and into my kitchen for some food. Oh, man, just thinking of all the sweet, creamy, and delicious things I could create this fine morning made me smile. I could just smell the soft cinnamon and brown sugar of the sweet rolls (mother’s recipe of course) and the soft raspberries decorated on top. I could just imagine popping one in and squishing it against the roof of my mouth, the taste of its tartness trickling down the sides of my tongue. And the french toast, the crunch of the bacon and the spice of the eggs. Aw, man, did that sound like heaven, just remembering the quick granola bars I’d been forced to consume before work was a nightmare in itself. 

Happily day-dreaming of my breakfast to be I rolled over taking the crumpled sheets in my arms with me. I sighed, taking a deep, long breath. O, the ginger biscuits, the taste of the sweetness in the berries paired with the full, fluffy buttermilk pancakes and the maple syrup and the- 

“Good morning!” 

Startled from my dozing I gasped and jerked my eyes open to meet the bluest pair of eyes I had ever seen. Shocked, I threw myself into a sitting position grasping the sheets to my chest in surprise. 

“What the heck?!” I shouted. 

Beneath me the stranger laughed. A man's voice. It was a man. There was a man in my bed. Laughing (of all things) and laughing at me! 

The man in question was resting his head on one hand, leaning into his elbow, and looking all too happy to see me with the biggest shit eating grin the Earth has ever known. And lacking, if the nakedness of his skin was any indication, clothes or maybe just a shirt. 

‘What the heck?!’ I thought. ‘Why is there a man in. My. Bed!?’ 

He had blueberry eyes. The fairest of skin that looked delectably smooth. A smile that could challenge even the brightest of stars. A body sculpted to look like a greek statue and hair to rival the greatest shampoo ad matched with the hair of a golden retriever who had recently from the groomers. The shininess of his hair was so bright it was like the sun itself had made a home amongst his golden locks. And the length seemed to be well past my arm (he had longer hair then me gosh dang it). To top it all off, he even had pointed ears so big that they could contend with the greatest halloween costumes made and still come out on top. 

Admittedly, the man was beautiful if not awkwardly so. No man had any right to be this gorgeous and still manage to give off a masculine vibe as the specimen before me was most differently male. 

The sound of his laughter continued to ring in my ears like chimes dancing (obnoxiously) in the wind. The sound, and sight of him, would have been pleasant if the whole situation hadn’t been so down right creepy. 

“M’lady, forgive me for startling you, but I must ask, whatever do you mean?” His voice was perfect, deep and pure like—

—Like a deep flowing river as its richness crept right past you as it licked at your ankles.

Oh my gosh who was this man? And why was he in my bed? Oh, good gracious, I didn’t sleep with him did I? 

Well, I cocked my head and ran my eyes over his body, chewing my lip, even if I did would that be such a bad thing? I mean look at him! He was way out of my league. He'd be quite a score even I had to admit that. 

I frowned and tilted my head. ‘No, wait.’ I could still feel my underclothes tightly secured on my waist and my fuzzy purple mario party pajamas still hung loosely against me. Besides, I was still (sadly) a virgin and knew that if I had undergone such a thing there would most definitely be a soreness somewhere in my body. 

Right? 

But seriously, who the frick-frack-of-the-tic-tac was this man and why was he in my bed? My slight panic begins to twist into quick short breaths, though I forced myself to try and be quiet about it. There was no need in letting my. . . whatever he was, know he had me slightly flustered and well, a little scared. 

“Who are you?” I asked. 

Trying to force more confidence into my voice then I actually had, considering this man could probably snap me in two, it probably would have been a better idea to try a subtler approach. He frowned at me, the pull of his lips and the puppy-like look in his eyes tugged at my heart. I felt incredibly guilty, far more guilty than a woman who just woke up to a stranger in her bed should feel. Goodness I hadn’t gone drinking did I?  

Goldilocks ignored my subtle shift towards the edge of the bed instead pushing himself up to lean against his arm. “Truly, do you not know?” 

Pausing in my retreat I squinted at him. I mean he did look familiar but I couldn’t place him. Squinting a little harder (deciding to risk it) I leaned a little closer to him, humming. 

“Well, I mean you do look familiar but ...” Leaning a smidgen closer, he only grinned at me, almost beckoning me closer with a teasing look in his eyes. This close I could practically feel the heat radiating off him and it was quite strange. His skin was scarred in places, some even wrapped around him like some kind of snake where he had some burn marks of some sort. His skin was covered in scars. His skin was washed in scars, so much so, the scars looked like they had a vice grip on him, resembling that of an angry viper. I tightened my grip on the sheets pulling them a little closer to my chest thinking hard, trying to place him.  Maybe I did go drinking last night and this man somehow got sucked up into one of Rickie’s dares or something. It was then he shifted, the sheets moving with him and naturally my eyes followed the movement. Only for my eyes to travel across the bare skin of his hip and thigh. 

Squealing in surprise, I peeled back shouting, “Oh—you're naked!?”

 Instinctively I threw the sheets over my face trying to hide before squealing, like that of a frightened pig. My cheeks burning, I ripped the sheets away, throwing them at him, and shouting, “What is the matter with you?!” 

Desperate, I scrambled off the bed hitting the floor.. With a hard thump, shoving myself up on shaking legs I tried to back away, before tripping over my own feet, my back slamming against the wall as I stumbled. My hands shot up to cover my face, fingers covering my eyes as I was torn between saving this man's dignity or keeping an eye on a possible threat.  ‘Forget about trying to remember him!’ I mentally cried, ‘not only do I have a man in my bed but a naked man in my bed!’

Seemingly angry the man shot up faster than I could blink, ripping the covers off and rushing forward. Screaming I backed away, looking for the door, cause if there wasn’t anything scarier than a buff naked man running at you it was a giant and buff, naked man running at you! “Door, where's the door?!” I shouted. 

But it was too late, the man was on me before I could so much as flinch. Strong hands grabbing hold of my upper arms and slamming me into the wall, shaking me. “This isn’t fair! You can’t keep ignoring me!” 

He slammed me into the wall again, “Ow! Ow, you're hurting me!” I cried, tears spilling over my face as the images in my eyes faded. Flashes of gold being the last thing I see. 

“You can not ignore me!”

Masterlist

[juicyflawless25]

Those Ocean Eyes (Ch. 1)

Word Count; 1,477

Notes; A plethora of memories, both cherished and heart-wrenching, shared with the one and only Larissa Weems. Cross posted on a03

Warnings; No warnings for anything just yet, but the rating of this will change as chapters are added. I don't know how long this will be, but I do hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

To honestly describe the feelings you felt when first seeing Larissa, one would need a much more vast knowledge of a language than even the brightest humans could ever achieve. There were truly not enough words in any language to properly convey the bluest and loveliest eyes to ever have existed. 

When first given a glance at the blessed cerulean irises of one Larissa Weems, it had taken your breath away. She had been sitting in the library, curled up with notebooks and reading material. The cap of her pen was tucked between her perfect teeth. The way her eyes danced across the paging of her book, so intensely focused on her learning, had made you quite jealous of what she was reading. 

Did you feel ridiculous having felt that way over a woman you had just seen, not even spoken to yet? Yes, you did. However, there was no stopping the flow of feelings coursing through your body because of her. She gave off a vibe that you knew your vibe could coincide with. Your soul knew there was something special to be had here, something to be cherished. But of course, like any anxiety-ridden gay, you would be taking your sweet ass time moving forward to create that connection.

Her eyes were like sparkling sapphires, obviously, there to make all shiny and gorgeous things feel inadequate next to her. God, the knowledge and depth you could see behind them were something to be revered and feared simultaneously. You could see the cogs turning in her head, moving quickly to understand what was being read. Seconds later, you could see a light click inside those eyes, a moment of understanding before she quickly wrote a few sentences down in her notebook. A small, but triumphant smile curled the edges of her lips and you felt your knees go weak at the sight.

You had been slowly getting closer to Larissa, your legs moving of their own accord as you watched her intently. You had come to the library to do your studying, following the path you always took to the exact seat Larissa was sitting in. Under no circumstances were you going to disturb her though. It’s not like your name was on that seat. Besides, she looked so comfortable there, writing away her thoughts on the paper. 

The moment you were a split second away from turning around and finding a new seat to take, Larissa’s eyes looked up at you surprisingly. You stood still in the spot you were standing, a nervous smile on your face. Those captivating eyes looked you over, not judging, but reading you. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you wondered what she could be thinking. 

You weren’t sure how long you stood there, staring back at her like someone who’d just remembered they’d left the stove on at home. Larissa blinked and shifted in the chair, slightly uncomfortable.

“May I help you?” She questioned, blue eyes boring into yours, making your head feel slightly numb from the anxiety of being caught staring. 

Finally, after hearing her melodic tone drift to your ears (even if it was in annoyance), you cleared your throat and threw her a small, apologetic smile. 

“I’m so sorry! I did mean to stare!” You began, holding your hands up in front of your chest in a surrender motion. “I usually sit here to study and was surprised to find someone else. I’m normally the only one who comes to this corner of the library.” You chuckled lightly, rubbing the back of your neck timidly.

“My apologies. I can move if you like?” Larissa questioned, already starting to unfold her long legs from underneath her.

You took a step forward, waving your hands to try to stop her. “No, no! Please! Stay!” Your words were rushed, rising in tone as your eyes widened. “You look so comfortable and I would hate to make you move! I didn’t mean to disturb you, I was just…” 

You cut yourself off, minding reeling for a moment for a way to finish that sentence. You couldn’t exactly tell her you had been standing there basically daydreaming about her. How creepy would you come across confessing something like that to a stranger?

Larissa stilled her movements and stared up at you, the space between her eyebrows crinkling as she watched you flounder for words. Truthfully, she found you kind of cute the way you seemed so nervous over her offering to find another place to sit. A tiny, barely there smile lifted the corner of her mouth as she suppressed a chuckle. One shouldn’t laugh at someone who was struggling with something.

“Just what?” She pressed, raising one of her perfect eyebrows in question. Okay, maybe she was teasing a little, but she just couldn’t help herself with how adorable you looked with your mouth agape.

“I uh…I was just really admiring how focused you seemed in your work. I don’t see that a lot here, what with the way everyone’s teenage hormones seem to be raging.” You laughed, giving her a timid smile. It was a confession of sorts, but only a small one. That’s all she was getting out of you for now.

With a hum, the woman nodded her head and sat back in the seat. “I know what you mean. Sometimes I wonder how some of them even pass their classes.” Larissa shook her head, clearly thinking of a few students in particular.

A grin spread across your face, finding hope in the fact that she didn’t seem to find you utterly ridiculous. She was speaking with you, which meant you hadn’t given her some kind of impression that you weren’t entirely dumb. Good, good. You would hate to make someone as beautiful as her find you hard to speak to.

“I can imagine they do so by the skin of their teeth. If even that.” You quipped, a little lopsided smile gracing your features.

Your smile grew when she laughed, head tilted back slightly. The triumph you felt of making her laugh, her eyes gleaming with a knowing look as she looked back at you. And what a laugh it was, sending shivers up your spine and making your laugh appear on its own. That was a sound you knew you’d want to continue hearing. 

“I have no doubt you’re right.” She replied as she settled herself back in the chair. 

After a moment of readjusting her sitting position, she looked back up at you with a welcoming and gentle look on her face. She waved her hand at the chair opposite of hers as her eyes cut over to it. “If you like, we can study together.” Larissa offered, trying to make herself seem as open as possible. 

That was unusual for her. Most of the time, she was guarded around the other students at Nevermore. But there was something about you that called to her. She wasn’t sure what just yet, but something in her brain was telling her to just go for it. Make a friend, other than Morticia. 

“I’m Larissa Weems, by the way. And you are?” She looked at you expectantly, head tilted ever so slightly.

Larissa Weems. Larissa “Goddess of the Sapphire Irises” Weems. That’s how you referred to her in your head. Not that she needed to know that. She had such a gorgeous name, fitting for the perfect picture of loveliness sitting before you. You knew the name, having heard others speak of her, but you were new enough that you hadn’t run into her yet. You were thanking whatever gods there were out there that you had finally come across her. 

You smiled widely at her and moved timidly to the other chair she had pointed out to you. You knew the damn chair was there, but your brain had short-circuited upon seeing the prettiest woman in the school sitting in the other. 

“Y/n.” You responded, curling yourself in the chair similar to how she had done so. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“The feeling is mutual” Larissa replied, giving you a winning smile before redirecting her attention back to her books.

After that first meeting, each time you went back to the library, you looked for her and those gorgeous eyes. And she was there, every single time. Each time you saw her look up at you as you rounded the corner of the bookshelf, looking hopeful that it was you and not someone else, your heart skipped a happy little beat. The fact that she seemed to enjoy your company as much as you did hers was truly shocking. You weren’t going to question it though. You were going to take whatever time this lovely woman was willing to give you and you were going to cherish it greatly.

[thesugarclubs-blog]

If You Were Mine - AU Bucky Barnes x OC

warnings: 40's Bucky, pre-war, neighbours to lovers, smut, 18+

word count: 10.8k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1316972552-if-you-were-mine-beatrice

Masterlist

Heavy rain poured down as Beatrice stared out her window at the grey New York sky, still bright despite the deluge. Her window was open to the elements and a cool breeze ruffled the chocolate curls that framed her face. She took a sip from her mug, the tea warming her from the inside as she flipped through a book. Sighing in contentment, she was enjoying the ambiance of the day. It was a welcome relief from the usual chaos that could be heard throughout her apartment building. 

However, the relaxing atmosphere was short-lived. 

A loud banging at her door made Beatrice jump, hot liquid spilling out of the cup and over her hand. She grumbled to herself before standing, smoothing out the wrinkles of her skirt and wiping the tea away with a towel from the nearby sink. Another knock rattled the apartment and she hurried to look through the peephole into the hall, groaning as she saw what stood on the other side. She wrenched open the door and fixed the visitor on the other side with a stern glare. 

He was dripping with rainwater, droplets running down his cheekbones and nose and over a set of perfectly pink lips. A puddle was starting to collect around his feet and she could see every damp footprint he'd left from the beginning of the hall to her door, which was directly across from his own. 

"Bucky Barnes, the next time you knock on my door like you've got a death wish," Beatrice said dryly, a stark contrast to the soaking wet man in front of her. "I'll make it come true." 

Her neighbor rolled his eyes, the baby blue of them electric despite the dim hallway light. Beatrice refused to admit that she could feel the sparks from where she stood. 

"Come on, doll, I'm freezing my ass off out here," Bucky whined. "I lost our key."

"Well, that sounds like a big problem for you. I'm sure you can muster the brain power to solve the case." 

Beatrice attempted to close the door, huffing when one soaked brown loafer poked out and stopped her progress. 

"I know you've got a spare," he continued, raising a dark eyebrow before he smirked. "And you don't want Steve catching a cold, do ya?" 

Bucky gestured over his shoulder at his roommate and best friend. Steve stood equally soaked to the bone, his slender frame shivering. He gave her a small wave and the corner of her mouth turned up before she looked back at Bucky. For a brief moment, she imagined what it would be like to punch the stupid, sexy grin off his face. 

"Whaddya say, Busy Bea?" he smiled down at her, knowing he'd found her weak spot and won. "Gonna help a fella out?" 

Bea sighed loudly as she let both soaked men in. As Steve passed her, shivering like a leaf tree. 

"Barnes, you know better than to drag Steve through this weather."  Bea scolded the man with the brightest, bluest eyes she's ever seen that she could get so easily lost in, at the same time they belonged to the most infuriating person she's ever met. 

The boys took a seat at her small kitchen table as she rummaged through her drawer looking for the key they’d given her to their apartment in case of emergencies. She heard a scoff come from the table and turned her head their way. 

“I didn’t drag him through anything. If he hadn’t been picking fights in the first place we’d have been home already.”

She found the key under a mess of papers in the back of the drawer and folded her palm around it as she looked over her shoulder to level Steve with a glare over her shoulder, slowly turning on her heels and facing his shaking form, a perfectly arched brow aimed at him.

"Is that true, Rogers?"

Steve had the good grace to look guilty.

“Honestly, you’re such a knucklehead,” she sighed, walking back over to them and sliding the key across the tabletop.

“There’s still some tea in the pot. Warm yourselves up before you go back,” Bea ordered, nodding to the teapot on the table before leaving the room to grab a couple of towels.

She padded to the bathroom, snatching two fresh towels that were hanging off of the rack. Bea paused when she heard Steve.

"We don't have to get tea. She terrifies me," Steve whispered. "Can we just go?"

Bea smirked to herself. She should terrify him. Someone had to knock Rogers down a peg, and if the guys who were beating the hell out of him couldn't, she definitely could. He always picked fights he could never win. Bucky laughed.

"Bea? Bea terrifies you? She's a pussycat, Rogers. Sit the hell down. Where are her cups--" 

Suddenly, something smashed and Bea hung her head. She snarled, storming out of the bathroom. The towels were clutched in her fist like she was wringing his neck. Bucky stared up at her with a big smile as he pushed the broken ceramic aside with his foot so that it was hidden underneath the cupboard. Steve rolled his eyes and got to his feet, heading for the small cupboard where she kept the broom.

"Hiya, Bea!" Bucky chirped.

She glared at him.

"I let you in for two minutes and you're destroying my apartment?!"

"I didn't do anything!" Steve yelped from behind his friend.

Bucky raised his hands in mock defense, a cocky smile still lingering on his face.

"Destroying is a strong word. There was a crack in that cup, I was doing you a favor."

"Barnes, I'll put a crack in those pretty teeth of yours," she snapped as she lunged for him and Steve got between the two. For once, he was stopping a fight instead of starting one.

"Okay, let's just calm down. I'll clean this up, Buck, you sit the hell down. Bea, Buck is sorry about the cup."

"No, I ain't," Bucky sighed as he plunked down in her chair.

Bea shot him a look, teeth grinding as the corner of Bucky’s mouth twitched into a smirk. His eyes shone, crinkling at the corners and the moment he winked, Bea broke. 

She glanced away, struggling to hide her smile and Bucky chuckled, something deep and rumbly. As much as she wished it didn’t, the sound set her stomach fluttering. 

“Gotcha, sweetheart.” 

“I don’t know why I put up with you two,” she huffed as Steve finished cleaning and poured them all a cup of tea, “thank you, Steve. Although if you think you’re off the hook just because you cleaned up Bucky’s mess for a change, you’re sorely mistaken.”

"Aw, come on, doll," Bucky grinned at her, "I did you a favour, you need new cups anyways - half the ones in your cupboard are cracked or chipped anyways!"

Steve shot him a warning look, "Bucky..."

Bea's lips thinned, sure it was just a cup, and yeah, maybe he was right about needing to replace them, but they were her Grandma's cups.

She didn't say anything about that though, the last thing she needed was to give his stupid handsome face more fodder.

“Don’t touch anything else,” she hissed in Bucky’s direction, taking a seat at the table. She wrapped her hands around her mug and took a sip of tea. “I was having a remarkably peaceful day until you two showed up.”

Bucky’s laugh rumbled through the small kitchen. Bea didn’t want to look in his direction- she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction- but she knew there was a twinkle of mischief in those baby blues eyes.

She refused to look up from her cup as his shoes clicked across the laminate kitchen floor, instead intently stirring in a spoonful of sugar. His presence behind her was obvious, a new warmth radiating off his body as Bucky's clothes dried and his mind started to heat up. He leaned down, his hand coming to grip the back of her seat, and let his lips brush the shell of her ear. 

"Maybe we can come up with a way for me to make it up to you," Bucky whispered, a grin faint on his lips, and suddenly Bea's nerve endings were on fire. 

She pushed down the flare of desire, instead giving him a sarcastic laugh. 

"Oh really?" Bea chuckled, tilting her head back to look at Bucky. "Is that what you told Dot? Or Louise? Or Alice? Steve, am I missing anyone?" 

She looked across the table at the blonde who had a mouthful of tea cakes.

"Oh, there was Annabelle too," he snapped in the air, crumbs falling from his grin. "And Margar-" 

"Alright! Jesus..." Bucky grumbled over top of her, the moment between them broken.

Bea huffed out a breath. “What, did I hit something?” She stood up abruptly, causing the chair to screech in a high-pitched noise as she glared at him. 

“Ouch,” Steve whispered, dipping the piece of what was left of the cake into the tea. 

She tilted her head, lips in a firm line as she playfully patted his puffed up chest. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t make deals with the devil.” 

With that, she walked to the sink and grabbed a washcloth to wipe off the crumbs and spilled tea on Steve’s side of the table, trying her best to ignore the warmth that spread through her body when the brown haired man left a low and rumbling chuckle. Steve’s tiny voice of I’m sorry was at least helpful to get rid of that feeling this time.

''Doll…'' he started. Her head snapped in his direction where she watched him struggle to continue his sentence as if he was at a loss for words. For as long as she knew Bucky, he was always very quick with his wit. Annoyingly so. She couldn't make sense of the feelings he invoked in her. As much as she wanted to hate the reaction her body had because of him, she relished it.

Bea's eyes scanned his face as she waited for his next words. His crystal blue eyes stared back at her, brows furrowed in thought and a slight pout gracing his plump lips. She admired the wet fallen curls on his forehead, the tick of his jaw as he stood there as if his brain were replaying her refusal over and over. 

Bucky let out a huff of breath and walked towards her, his figure towering over her. He placed his hands on the counter on either side of her and looked down. 

"How about if I take ya dancin' tonight?"

Bea’s heart stuttered, there was no way he could mean… 

Determined not to let him see how much he got to her she gave him a smirk.  Raising her chin and peering over Bucky’s shoulder she caught Steve’s eye.

“Whaddaya say, Steve? A night out on Bucky’s dime?”

“Doll, you know that’s not what I-“ he retorted but was cut off by Steve’s enthusiastic agreement.

"Oh!" Steve yelped, eyes wide. "Can we go to Blue Note? There's this girl there with hu--"

Bucky clapped his hands together, trying to contain his annoyance behind a big, fake smile while Steve fell silent, cheeks burning at his almost humiliating outburst. Bea knew she hit Barnes where it hurt as he stared her down, his eyes piercing hers.

"Sounds great." He tried to control the growl in his voice. Shivers rushed up her spine. "Stevie? Let's go. Bea's gotta make herself look pretty for me."

"I'll be sure to wear my finest paper bag, Barnes," she quipped as she leaned back in her chair and the boys made their way to the kitchen doorway. 

Steve was the first to disappear while Bucky lingered, leaning up against the doorframe. His eyes scanned her body and she held his gaze despite the blush that was growing on her cheeks.

"You're a clever one, doll. What's the matter? Afraid of that old Barnes charm?"

"You're about as charming as a damn roach," she bit back.

He grinned, dragging his tongue across his bottom lip.

"I'll pick you up at 6:00. Sharp."

With a wink, he was gone, and the front door shut. Bea heaved a sigh, slumping down in her chair. She glanced at the clock, already knowing she had an hour to get ready. And that jerk was going to be right on time.

She did what she could with her hair in the little time she had and applied rouge carefully to her lips and cheeks.

Not that she was prettying herself up for Bucky. She liked to look presentable for a night out on the town as it was, and it had nothing to do with the cheeky, charismatic boy next door. No sir. 

When Bucky’s telltale knock on her door sounded out at six on the dot, she opened it with a cheerful smile. Only for it to drop when she realised just one of her troublesome neighbours stood on her stoop. 

“Where’s Steve?”

His tongue swiped across his bottom lip as his eyes trailed her figure, "has a cough from being out in the rain, so it looks like it's just going to be the two of us, sweetheart" 

Bea sucked in a deep breath and swallowed thickly, grabbing her shawl from the hook beside the door and brushing past the tall brooding man, "whatever you’re thinking is going to happen, Barnes, you can forget it. I am not one of those floozies you bring home every night."

When a deep chuckle came from behind her, mixed with the clicking of his shoes as he jogged to catch up, Beatrice had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from smiling. No matter how much charm he poured on, she had to remember exactly who he was. She couldn't let her feelings get the best of her now. 

"Oh, believe me, Bea, I've known that for a long time," he mumbled from beside her, a soft smile plastered on his plump pink lips.

When they got down to the street, Bucky held his elbow out to her. Bea looked at it suspiciously, wondering what he was thinking.

"Bea, just take my damn arm - believe it or not, I can be a gentleman."

She hesitated with a huff, before sliding her hand around his arm, "Just this once, Barnes."

The Blue Note was the busiest she had ever seen, couples lingered outside in the cold leaning into each other and most whispering what she could only assume were sweet nothings based on the smiles plastered on the women's faces. A part of her felt a twinge of jealousy watching them. She couldn't deny how nice it would be to have someone but the pure idea of letting a man into her heart made her nauseous. 

"You're lookin' a little green behind the gills there Bumble Bea," she heard him say lowly, feeling him nudge her softly, "you alright?" 

Bea shot a glare up at him, "I'm fine Buckaroo, lets just get inside it's freezing out here." She looked forward again, ignoring the feelings creeping into her veins like vines.

Bucky opened up the door for them, letting her walk in first with a dip of his head and one arm behind his back, “my lady.” 

That eye-rolling boyish grin appeared. She bit back a smile, but it wasn’t enough to hold back the flushness that crept along her neck up to her cheeks. She quickly looked forward again to conceal her reaction as she walked inside with him behind. 

She couldn’t let him have that fun.

Inside, the floor was packed with dancing people. Couples entwined, moving to the music that a live band was playing on the stage at the far end of the room. 

"Can I buy you a drink, sweet Bea?" His voice rasped close to her ear, making the hairs of her neck stand up and a ripple of goosebumps released on her skin. 

"And risk poisoning? No thank you." 

"Come on, doll. Be good," His warm breath returned to the side of her neck, making sure she heard him over the volume of the music.

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as heat pooled at her center. She hated that he had this effect over her. 

Bucky Barnes with his smug grin and a jawline that could cut glass. 

She swallowed thickly before turning slightly to face him, "I'm not a dog Barnes, and I'm not your doll. You're buying me a Manhattan but I'm comin' with ya."

Facing him was almost a mistake because of the way he was leant in, their eyes were at a perfect level with each other and her legs felt like jello with how he was looking over her. The shiny blue pools of his eyes were almost hypnotizing her, almost all the noise around them disappeared for the few seconds that his eyes flickered over her face. 

As he straightened up, his tall figure back to towering above her, a dazzling grin broke out on James' face that had her turning in the direction of the bar and rushing ahead of him to hide the blush that she could feel spreading over her face that had nothing to do with the heat of the dancing bodies around them and everything with the handsome brunette. 

Bea straightened her shoulders and, with a confidence she didn’t really feel, stood at the bar waiting for Bucky to catch her up.

He sauntered up to her with his usual easy gait, his hands in his pockets and his goddamn dreamboat smirk fixed on his stupidly handsome face.

“Manhattan was it?” He asked, tipping his chin to get the bartender’s attention.

“You forgotten already?” Bea snarked.

"Nah, I just wanted to hear your voice again. You sound so pretty when you're not calling me a scoundrel." She drew in a breath and held it for a few seconds as Bucky grinned. "With a lemon twist, right?"

She blushed but held his gaze. Bucky definitely took notice as his eyes bounced around her face, almost unsure where to land.

"How did you know that?"

"Saw you drinking one on your balcony last summer." She went to speak but was cut off by Bucky ordering for her. He turned back to Bea as the bartender began to make their drinks. "Believe it or not, but I do pay close attention to you."

"What for? To drive me crazy?"

His eyes ran up and down her body and she felt that familiar heat flood her cheeks again. He looked good, in a crisp white shirt with a stiff collar, dark pants that had been pressed, and his hair was mostly slicked back with a few stray curls sticking out.

"Somethin' like that," he murmured as their drinks were slid across the bar. Bucky handed hers to her and grinned as he took up his own whisky glass, holding it in the air. "How about a truce tonight?"

"That depends," she replied. "Are you gonna do anything to warrant a slap?"

He leaned forward, that cocky smirk ever present on his plump lips.

"I'll be on my best behavior, sugar."

Her eyes narrowed.

"Somehow I doubt that."

“You wound me, Bea. Am I really that bad?” Bucky chuckled, his hand pressed to his chest in faux hurt. 

“Not bad, Barnes,” Bea said, taking a sip of her drink with a coy smile. “But I fear that admitting you have a certain charm will only make your head grow, and I’m not sure your neck can take the weight as it is.” 

Bucky tilted his head, eyes glimmering with mirth to match the lopsided grin on his lips, and Bea struggled not to reach out and fix the one stray curl that fell over his eyes when he moved.

“Are you saying it’s working? My charm?” 

She hummed thoughtfully, “we’ll see how the night goes.”

As Beatrice let her mind flutter to the idea of this night actually being something fun for the two of them, a small blonde skipped up to them and pressed herself between her and Bucky. 

"Heya Buck, I was hoping I'd see you here tonight," she twisted a curl around her finger and looked over her shoulder at Bea with a sly smirk, "come dance with me" 

Bucky cleared his throat as his eyes flickered from the blonde to the brunette, "Dottie, hi, I uh..." he rubbed his hand over the back of his neck as his cheeks turned pink. 

Beatrice cocked her eyebrow and scoffed as she took a large swing from her drink. Classic Bucky, one girl was just never enough. She could feel the heat rising in her neck as she turned away to try and avoid eye contact with him as he stuttered and talked himself into a circle. 

"Come on Buck," the girl pouted, "you always did prefer blondes," Dottie snipped.

"Uh, Dottie, I'm not sure -"

"Go dance with her, Buck," Bea muttered, "Since you prefer blondes and all."

She turned on her heel and stalked away, aiming for the bar to refill her drink.

"Beatrice," he called after her, her name on his lips. Leaving Dottie planted dumbfounded on the dancefloor he followed Bea to the bar.

"Leave me alone, Barnes," Bea said, knowing it was him who now stood behind her. His clean pine scent clouded her senses. 

"Look, sweets. I'm sorry. I'm here with you because I want to and not because I want to dance with other girls. Can you give me another chance, please?" 

No matter how infuriating this man was, he pulled her in like a magnet. And she was starting to realize that, that might not be that bad.

Bea puffed out her cheeks and pushed herself up her toes as she leaned onto the bar ignoring his plea. She called the bartender forward with a wave and a bat of her eyelashes. She was going to give Bucky a taste of his own medicine even if she wanted to kiss him with just as much ferocity as she wanted to slap him. 

"What can I get ya sweetheart?", the tall broad shouldered blonde rasped as he reached for her glass, fingers grazing her wrist. 

"Manhattan with a twist," she smiled. 

She watched attentively as the man prepared her to drink effortlessly paying no mind to the brooding brunette that huffed behind her. When the man walked back with her drink she pressed her hand to his before grabbing it. 

"Thanks, angel face.", she turned back to face Bucky with a smirk as she sipped on her fresh drink, "Oh I'm sorry Barnes, were you saying something?"

His face was red as she saw him glare at the back of the bartender's head who was already serving another woman down the line, paying no mind to Bucky and the look he sent his way. 

It made Beatrice giddy on the inside, knowing that seeing her flirt with someone might have the same effect on him as she felt when she saw Dot throw herself all over him. Even in the low light of The Blue Note and the cloud of cigarette smoke floating around, she could clearly see the tick in Bucky’s  jaw. His eye blazed as he took a step then another closer to her, effectively cornering her against the bar as he leaned in and she tried not to take a breath of his cologne in and give herself away. He leaned on one hand and the other pushed the stray strand that was resting on his forehead, her eyes never left his until his tongue swept over his lower lip and her eyes caught the movement. 

It felt like they were sharing the same air when he took a deep breath that was seemingly to calm himself, while it only served to knock the breath out of her.

"Please, Bea? I'm really sorry."

His voice was breathy, sweet with the hint of the whiskey he was drinking and it went to her head.

“Are you though?” Bea asked, meeting the ice blue of his eyes with every ounce of glare she could muster. “Or are you so doll-dizzy that you’re gonna get your head turned by every broad that walks in this joint, blonde or otherwise? Maybe Steve had the right idea after all.”

“You got me all wrong sweetheart. I’ve only got eyes for one girl and it ain’t no broad like Dottie.”

She looked him up and down. It was her turn to make him blush. And she did. Bucky bit his lip and she sipped her drink, using the silence to make him sweat a little. She could see it clinging to his brow as his Adam's apple bobbing up and down in his throat. 

“Bea, I swear.” He stuck out his hand. “Can I prove it to you?”

She huffed and looked around the smoky bar. Dottie was standing alone, her hands on her hips, waiting for Bucky to come back to her. Bea felt like sneering at her, but instead, her eyes landed on Bucky. He smiled, those beautiful eyes sparkling in the dim light.

“Dance with me?” He asked. “Just one dance, and then you can slap me in the face if you still wanna.”

He wasn’t going to give up, and she knew it.

“Okay. One dance.”

He grinned as she grasped his hand and he pulled her toward him. Her shoe caught on one of the bar stools and she tripped, bumping right into his chest. Her hand pressed against him and she looked up. Bucky was just as red as she was.

“Sorry,” he stammered. “Got a little too excited.”

Bea couldn’t help but smile at the fumble, because the thing about Bucky Barnes was that for every ounce of cocksure smooth talker, he was an adorable idiot in equal measure. 

“It’s okay. Just maybe go a little slower on the dance floor.” 

“You got it, angel. We’ll sway nice and slow,” he murmured, soft and low as his hands found her waist. “I’ll hold you close, just like this.” 

Bea felt herself grow warmer, a simmering heat in her belly as Bucky’s lips grazed her cheek. 

“Let’s go then,” she pushes, trying to keep her voice steady despite her pounding heart. “Because right now you’re all talk, Buck.”

Bucky smirked, swiping his tongue along his bottom lip as he gently guided her to the dance floor. Beatrice ignored the eruption of butterflies and stomped them down as she followed. No man, not even Bucky Barnes was going to make her swoon that easily. He had a lot more work to do. 

He spun her slowly under his arm before catching her waist and intertwining his fingers with hers. Her free hand landed on his chest and curled into the fabric of his shirt as she bit the inside of her cheek. Coincidentally the band started playing one of her favorite songs "Prelude to a kiss", and she looked up to see a small smile grace the man's lips. 

"Let's just say I knew you wouldn't be able to say no..." He whispered, reaching up to brush a chocolate curl off her cheek. 

Bea shook her head, finally allowing herself to smile up at him. This cheeky bastard. Their eyes were locked as they swayed to the song, the rest of the crowd seemingly fading away as the tips of their noses just brushed together. 

"Bucky" A high-pitched whine came from beside them, snapping both of them back to reality. 

"You said you would dance with me," Dottie pouted, eyeing Beatrice as she crossed her arms over her chest.

Every warm feeling she had flooded out of her body as Dot continued to edge her way towards Bucky. 

"Sorry Dottie, I'm not looking for any other dance partners tonight," Bucky said, keeping his hold on Bea firm as the brunette kept his eyes focused on Bea. 

Dot shot a glare at Bea with a foot stomp, "You promised." She said through gritted teeth, as Bea let out a soft laugh. Dot's eyes narrowed, "Besides why would you want to dance with the loner on Montague St? Didn't take you for a Charity man though you do live with Stevie." 

Bucky let out a sigh, hanging his head as Bea let go of him, pulling herself from his grasp. The words coursing through her like a rapid river that only caused more and more destruction as they flowed through her. 

"Beatrice," Bucky warned lowly, his voice fading as the anger in her chest bubbled. 

Dot's eyes grew wider the moment Bea took a step towards her, "Dot do you understand what the word no means?" She tossed her a pointed look, waiting for an answer. 

But as soon as Dot went to open her poorly painted lips Bea opened hers, "Clearly not, so instead of following Bucky around like a lost little puppy dog, why don't you go find someone else to bother? Or are you just that desperate for attention?" 

The blonde once again stood dumbfounded, eyes flickering between Bea and Bucky. 

Bea tsked as the tension between the three of them grew, "I gotta say Dottie, didn't take you as the desperate type, but yet" she spread her arms out in front of her, "here we are." 

"Are you just going to stand there and let her speak to me like that?!" Dot exclaimed raging eyes moving to the brunette behind her. 

Bucky chuckled, the sound flowing through her calming the rage, "Like I said sweets, I'm not looking for another partner tonight, and come to think of it probably not for the next night," Bea felt him lean forward, resting his chin on her shoulder, "or the night after that and after--" 

Dot stomped her foot and huffed once again letting out a whine as she spun on her heel away from them not giving him the chance to finish the sentence that Bea almost wished was true.

Bea smirked as she saw Dot huff and pout all the way to the ladies’ room. Bucky straightened his back, standing tall as they continued to sway with the music for a few measures. 

She looked up at him through her lashes, all rage dissipating when she saw he was already looking down at her. Her cheeks grew warm. Bea felt something else bubble in her chest- this time, it felt like nerves. 

“I can see through your little game, Barnes.”

“Game?” A small, knowing smile pulled at the corner of Bucky’s lips. “What game?”

He continued staring down at her as his hands traced absentminded circles on the back of her waist. She could feel his fingers through all her layers and a small shiver ran up her spine. 

Bea couldn’t help but smirk back at him. “Yuppp,” she said, making sure to pop the last syllable.

“I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about,” Bucky said and as the music swelled, he spun her out of his arms and back in, dipping her slightly. Bea got lost in his blue eyes, sparkling with excitement as he pulled her back upright. 

“Right,” she said, a little more breathlessly than she’d have liked, “You’re just full of surprises aren’t you?”

He laughed, warm breath fanning Bea's cheek and sending tingles over her skin. A smoky haze was filling the room and she blamed that for the sudden lightheaded sensation that hit her like a truck. She barely had time to blink before Bucky spun her around once more, her skirt swirling around her legs as her back met his chest at the end of the turn. She suppressed a whimper when she felt his lips brush the baby hairs at her temple. 

"I gotta few things I could still show you," he whispered. "If you'd like." 

Bea smothered her arousal with a snort, begging her face to not flare up pink. The music started to fade as she tilted her head up towards Bucky, turning. Her hands slid up his broad shoulders and she felt the muscles ripple underneath when Bucky pulled her body flush with his again. 

"Does that line usually work?" she murmured, looking up through her eyelashes. 

Not for the first time, she found the dark flecks in his ocean eyes as they focused on her crimson-colored mouth. He swallowed heavily, tongue darting out to lick his lips as his breathing became a little quicker. She could feel the hammering of his heart against her own and for once, Bea realized that Bucky Barnes might not be as sure of himself as it appeared.

"I don't know," Bucky drawled, still searching her face with a soft smirk. "You tell me...is it?"

"It might." Bea inched closer to him until his hot breath fanned over her face. 

"Oh, really? Tell me, sweets, what do you want to do now? I'm all yours." 

Her breath caught in her throat as a small whimper left her lips.

"Kiss me, you big, annoying boy," She closed her eyes as his lips descended down to hers, adding just the slightest pressure. Her mind reeled with intoxicating thoughts. Nothing could have prepared her for what kissing him felt like. It felt like an explosion.

His lips are so soft was Bea's first thought as their lips connected. Her hands slid up his big, strong arms and sank into the hairs at the nape of his neck hoping to anchor herself as he pushed against her lips. Gaining more confidence and pouring it into the kiss as she leaned more into him while his hands gripped her waist, almost stepping on his foot in the process. 

All too soon, the need for oxygen left them both breathless as he pulled back just enough to take a gulp of air but stayed close. So close that their lips were still touching as they caught their breaths, sharing them in the small space. 

Beatrice's body was on a high like no other. And it was just one, simple kiss that turned her to mush.

Bucky's smile could melt a glacier as he gently pressed the tip of his nose against hers.

"Whaddya say we get out of here, angel? No more pretending to hate me."

"Who's pretending?" She breathed.

Bea smirked, realizing that her hand was still on the back of his neck. Meanwhile, Bucky's lingered on her waist, moving toward her lower back. He gently pulled her toward him so that her body was flush with his and she was convinced that he could see her pulse in her throat. Her heart was hammering, and suddenly, those two drinks she had felt like two dozen. All thanks to him.

"You think that worked, huh?"

"I can tell by the look in your eyes that it did." He dipped his head, pressing his lips to her earlobe. "And I think we need to deal with this tension between us."

"What tension?"

Bucky's fingers danced up and down her spine and she shivered against him. His low, rumbling laughter rippled through her body like an electric current. 

"That tension."

Bucky grinned, his nose scrunching as Bea rolled her eyes. But the smile on her own face matched his and she tilted her head, chasing his lips for another soft kiss. 

“Is it too forward of me if I ask you to take me home, Bucky?” 

“You had enough of me already, sweetheart? And here I was thinking I was getting somewhere.” 

Bea laughed, and her hand wandered down Bucky’s arm to link their fingers together as she pushed up onto her toes and brought her own lips to his ear. 

“Take me home where there are no prying eyes…” she whispered.

For a split second, Bucky seemed to freeze. Then, without a word he abruptly squeezed her hand in his and tugged her out of the club. He was so eager to get them home, Bea had to jog to keep up with him, her skirt flapping around her knees.

As they approached the steps to their apartment building, Bucky slowed to a stop, pulling Bea close.

"You haven't changed your mind, have you?" He asked softly, face close to hers.

"No," She wanted to add on a snappy comment, but he kissed her then.

A few cold drops on her head were the only warning before the sky errupted over them in a downpour. They pulled apart in surprise, and then dissolved into laughter, clinging to each other as the rain soaked them to the bone.

Bea tilted her head back, letting the rain fall against her skin, little tiny droplets sticking to her as she lifted her eyes to his. She expected him to be looking up at the sky as well, but instead, he was staring at her. Eyes bright and neon against the dark sky. 

"What?" She breathed a smile playing against her lips. 

He reached up, pushing back strands of wet curls that had fallen out of place and plastered to her forehead as he shook his head softly, "nothing darling, you just look really pretty right now." 

Bea giggled, "I didn't realize drowned rat was your type." 

He smiled, that bright smile that always made her warm inside, "no, but you are."

Bucky leaned down and captured her lips with his, drawing her body flush against his toned front. He pulled away and nuzzled their noses. 

“Plus, you’re more like a drowned Pomeranian. A lot cuter, with a hell of a bite.”

Bea snorted a burst of laughter escaping her before she pulled Bucky down. She kissed him slowly, dragging his lower lip out between her teeth a bit before releasing him. 

“Get me inside and I’ll show you just how much I bite,” she grinned as Bucky’s eyes darkened. He laced their fingers together and began pulling her up the steps and into their building.

The walk down the hall to Bea's apartment was a dripping tangle of tongues and teeth, their hands exploring further with each step closer to the door. Quick kisses turned into long, heart stopping ones that made Bea's toes curl up in the damp leather of her shoes. By the time her key slid into the worn lock, both of them were out of breath and out of control. 

Stumbling inside, Bucky grabbed Bea's waist once more. She let out a squeak as she wobbled on her heels and a pair of eager, slightly chilled lips made a trail from her ear to her throat. 

"Bucky!" she exclaimed, righting herself by grabbing his shoulders. "You tryin' to kill me? These shoes are a mile high!" 

He grinned before pressing his lips to hers once more. Suddenly, Bucky dropped down to his knees and wrapped his hands around her ankle. The skin of his palm was rough through her stockings and she moaned quietly as he looked up, blue eyes blown out with desire. 

"How about I help you out, sweet thing?" Bucky murmured, grabbing her heel and lifting her leg into his lap. 

His deft fingers made quick work of the straps on her heels, eyes focused on her flushed cheeks and damp skin as he switched from one foot to the other. Every brush of his fingers made the heat in her belly build until finally, she couldn't take it any longer, pulling him up and back towards her bedroom.

When they made it to her bedroom, Bucky shut the door behind him, lit by nothing but the silvery wisps of moonlight that shone through the curtains. She expected another kiss, but he quickly moved behind her, grasping the zipper on her dress as he leaned over to press his lips to her ear. He turned her to face the big full-length mirror that stood next to the window. Bea could see her flushed cheeks, her damp hair that stuck to her head, and her dress was soaked all the way through. Bucky looked gorgeous, water dripping off of his hair and trickling down his face. 

"Can I undress you?" He purred. "I always thought about doin' it."

She stood completely still as one of his hands came to slide around her waist, fingers spreading out across her belly. He pulled her toward him, pressing himself against her. She felt the pressure of his cock against her ass and whimpered as his hand travelled a little lower, slipping beneath her dampened skirt. His hands were freezing in comparison to her scorched skin and he gently nipped her earlobe.

"Please, Bea?"

"Yes," she rasped.

Bucky grinned and she watched as he oh-so-slowly dragged the zipper down, watching her watch him in the mirror. It felt like an eternity. Her stomach swarmed with butterflies and her cheeks were so hot she felt like she might combust. She trembled like a leaf.

"You cold, darling?" He asked in that soft, husky voice that nearly brought her to her knees. His lips pressed against the back of her neck as he fully unzipped the dress and began to push it off of her shoulders. 

"A little."

He grinned, sucking gently on the spot between her neck and shoulder. Bea whimpered, her back arching as she reached behind her to wind her fingers in his hair. 

"We should warm you up, then, hmm?"

Bucky wrapped his arms around her bare waist as the dress pooled around her feet.

Her heart felt like it was going to explode out of her chest, it was beating so hard.

He chuckled lightly when she gasped, his lips grazing her neck as he trailed wet kisses down to her collarbone.

"Don't laugh - you're cold!" She hissed. Even though she was definitely enjoying his attention, he was pressed against her in his still damp, chilly clothing.

Bea spun around in his arms, pressing her hand to his chest. "I think it's my turn now," she grinned, dragging her lips along his jawline, "stay still for me." 

She ran her hands down his soaked shirt, tugging on the fabric just above his slacks. The white linen pulled free from his pants and hung loose around his hips. Bea grazed her fingers against the chilled skin of his abs before attempting to work the buttons on his shirt. 

Her fingers fumbled, a soft huff of frustration left her lips before she finally gave up and gripped the edges and yanked, tearing it clean from the fasteners. Buttons flew across the room between them as she ran her hands back down his bare chest, sending a wave of goosebumps along his kin. 

"Jesus Bea," His voice rasped as she looked up at him through thick lashes, "I liked that shirt." He grinned. 

"And I like it better off." She cooed, pressing her lips to his chest leaving perfect lipstick stamps against the toned muscle as her fingers trailed down to his slacks.

Bucky whined and bit down on his bottom lip. “I don’t think I’m gonna survive this if you keep talkin’ like that, sweets.”

Her fingers worked at his belt while her lips continued kissing his chest. She left small, chaste kisses along his collarbone, noting the constellation of freckles gathered near his shoulder. 

He was so beautiful, and he was putty in her hands. She wanted to savor every sound, every sharp intake of breath - she didn’t want this to end. 

Once his belt was off, she undid the top button of his slacks. “Is this okay?” Bea asked breathlessly.

“S’more than okay darling, please,” Bucky said, letting out a whimper when she bent down, squatting and lowering his pants as she went. She knelt in front of him, and stared up through her lashes. 

Bucky audibly gulped, lifting a slightly shaking hand to Bea’s cheek. He brushed his fingertips along her cheekbone, breath escaping his lips as he spoke. 

“You’re so beautiful Bea,” he murmured, and she flushed, grinning at him. 

“Flattery will get you nowhere with me,” she said despite her heated cheeks. Bucky shook his head and brushed her cheek again. 

“Not flattery, just honesty.”

Bea rocked back on her heels, helping Bucky take the last step out of his pants. They both giggled when he wobbled, unsteady as the soaked fabric tried to cling to his skin. Goosebumps raised on his thighs and stomach, the boxers underneath nearly soaked through. 

"Like what you see?" Bucky drawled, making her realize she'd been sitting there slack jawed for more than a few seconds.

"Maybe," she remarked playfully, running her nails down his thighs. "Or I'm just thinking about what I can't see...can I?"

"Fuck," he muttered breathlessly as his head fell backwards. "Yes. That...that sounds great." 

She giggled softly, reaching up to tease the strip of skin above his boxers before starting to work them down his legs. Every inch exposed was hard muscle and smooth skin, making her mouth water. When his cock sprang free, flushed pink and rock hard, she looked back up with the best doe eyes she could muster. 

"You ever have a girl put her mouth on you?" 

Bucky's head snapped down, eyes wide, and for a moment he looked just like the kid in high school that she first developed this horrendous crush on. 

"Christ, Beatrice," he laughed before tracing her bottom lip with his thumb. "Yeah, but none with a mouth like this one."

She stood and wrapped her fingers around his cock, stroking it slowly just to watch his eyes roll back and a curse spill from his lips. Her mouth ghosted along his stubbled jaw. Bucky was usually clean shaven, but she liked to feel a little bit of stubble and wondered what that would feel like between her thighs. 

"Get on the bed and I'll show you everything this mouth can do," she breathed.

"You like to boss men around, don't you?" He groaned as she squeezed his cock just a little. Bea chuckled.

"What's the matter, Barnes? Can't handle it?"

"Oh, I can. I just wish we had crossed this bridge a long time ago."

She kissed him, released his cock and shoved him backward so that he stumbled and collapsed onto the bed. Bea didn't waste time in climbing on top of him. She reached back, unclasping her bra and tossing it aside. Bucky's eyes nearly bugged right out of his head the second he saw her bare tits. His brain looked like it was going to explode and she put her hand on his chest.

"Lay back, sugar. I'll take care of you."

He whimpered as her lips began to glide down his chiselled chest, over taut muscle. She flicked his hipbones with her tongue and he squirmed as she teased him a little until he was quivering beneath her, his cock pulsing. Bea pressed her lips to the tip, her eyes locking with his. Bucky was a mess, with big glistening blue eyes, biting down on his bottom lip as his entire body clenched like a fist. She slowly stuck her tongue out and dragged it up his shaft, causing a high-pitched whine to fill the room. Bea giggled and Bucky's head hit the mattress.

"You're killin' me, princess."

"And here I thought you liked to be teased, Barnes."

A deep growl left his chest as he reached down and tucked a piece of damp hair behind her ear, "I'm usually the one on the teasing side, Bea, but I am not complaining," he rasped. 

Beatrice smirked, and pumped her hand up his cock, "Good boy," she whispered, pulling the tip between her lips and sucking lightly, pulling a moan from Bucky's lips as he gripped the sheets at his sides.

She hollowed her cheeks taking him further into her mouth, her fingers wrapping around the base squeezing gently the length she couldn't fit. Warmth pooled at her center as the sounds of his pleasure filled the room around them. Sweet praises and soft curses wrapped her in a blanket of lust as she bobbed her head. 

"Bea I ain't gonna last long if you keep doing that," he breathed in between gasps of air. 

She released him with a pop grinning up at him, "you better try because I'm taking my time with you," Bea flicked her tongue over the tip, running it through the slit and collecting a bead of precum. 

"Goddamnit," he groaned his head pressing into the pillow as his hips lifted, "You're going to kill me." 

"Maybe," she hummed against him, "but not tonight." She teased before taking him in her mouth again with her own moan that vibrated through them both.

Bea took him deeper, nudging the back of her throat and Bucky’s breath hitched. She slowly pulled off him, sitting back on her heels, a line of spit connecting them before it broke. Bea raised her eyes to Bucky’s, finding them blown out with lust and awe. 

He gaped at her, and she smirked. “Finally speechless Barnes?” He blinked, a grin sliding across his lips as he sat up, big hands smoothing over her thighs before gripping them tightly and lifting her slightly. He pulled her forwards into his lap, until she was straddling him. 

His eyes were locked on her breasts, and a whine slipped out of his mouth before he asked, “Can I?”

"Can you what?" Bea asked. "Use your words or you're not gonna get what you want. I don't care how many drinks you bought me tonight."

Bucky growled and somehow, she was flipped onto her back, caged in by his strong arms. She yelped as his mouth dragged down her throat. Bea couldn't help but whimper as he hit that spot again, this time sinking his teeth into it just a little.

"Taste you," he whispered. "Please, Bea?"

Bea laughed, and the sound only seemed to drive him crazier. He sounded so desperate, pressing his hips into her thigh and rolling them so that she could feel his cock throbbing against her. His mouth found hers in a desperate and aching kiss and he moaned against her lips.

"Say yes," he begged. "Please say yes."

She broke the kiss, pushing his damp hair out of his face.

"You haven't even gotten my underwear off yet." 

Bucky's eyes went wide and he sat on his haunches, grabbing the flimsy fabric with both hands and tearing it with ferocity. Bea gasped, reaching out to swat at him as he laughed.

"Buck, those were expensive!"

"Payback for my shirt," he replied with a grin as he stretched out between his legs, rolling his hips into the mattress. She watched as he placed gentle kisses up and down her thighs and those big blue eyes made her heart skip a beat. "I'll buy you new ones."

Beatrice combed her hand into his hair with a smirk, cocking an eyebrow at him, "you better" 

Placing gentle kisses and nips along the skin of her hip bones, Bucky smiled into her, a deep laugh sending a vibration of pleasure up her body, "sweetheart, I will buy you whatever you want," he took a deep breath and pressed his lips to her wet folds. 

A whine left her throat and she arched her back, "now who's being a tease..." she quipped. 

Bucky circled her clit with his tongue before pulling it between his teeth and sucking softly, "you taste just as sweet as I'd imagined Bea," he mumbled into her skin.

"Less talking," she moaned even though the vibration from his voice worked to drive her crazy. 

She felt him chuckle between her legs as her hips rolled against his mouth. Warm euphoria washed over her like sunshine as he ran his tongue through her, circling her clit in small tight circles as if trying to whisper something to her. 

Moan after moan spilled from both of them while her orgasm built. Her back arched further off the mattress when two fingers slowly slid into her causing her to gasp and tangle her fingers into the roots of his hair. 

"Jesus Bucky," she breathed, feeling his arm hook over her waist, holding her down to the bed.

He groaned into her, sucking on her clit lightly as he pushed his long fingers deeper inside her. 

“Oh! Right there, don’t move a damn inch,” Bea ordered and Bucky whined as she swore, keeping his fingers exactly where they were, rubbing over her sweet spot. “Harder Buck, oh Jesus,” she panted as he did as she said, crooking his fingers harder against her and making her legs start to shake.

He chuckled, keeping the exact pace and pressing against that spot. A warm tingling sensation engulfed her lower back and her clit began to pulse in his mouth. Suddenly, her spine arched and she draped one leg over his shoulder, digging her heel into his strong back as she came with a loud cry. Her hips snapped relentlessly against him as stars appeared behind her eyes. Bucky fucked her right through it, his mouth and fingers stroking her gently as she began to come down. When she was a panting, sweaty mess, he finally looked up at her.

"Never heard a woman make those kinds of sounds before."

Her head was too fuzzy to think of a slick comeback for him. He earned this. Her limbs felt like they were made of jelly and she pushed her fingers through his gorgeous dark hair.

"Good boy," was all she could muster.

That sent Bucky into a frenzy. His eyes flashed and he practically leapt on top of her, his mouth crashing against hers.

"Say it again," he begged through desperate and pleading kisses. 

"Good boy."

His voice broke.

"Goddammit." He pulled back, staring at her. "I need you, Beatrice. So damn badly."

"How badly?"

"Like sometimes, when you're watering the plants on your porch, I think about bending you over it and pulling your skirt up."

His eyes were nearly black, and he looked manic and consumed with lust. She giggled as she wound her arms around the back of his neck, biting down on her bottom lip. His eyes roamed her face and his chest heaved.

"Maybe I want that."

He practically dissolved in front of her, eyes rolling back as he kissed her again.

"I need to be inside you."

"Then get to it, big boy," Bea finally snipped when she caught her breath, bucking her hips up into him. 

A mix between a chuckle and a growl escaped Bucky as he moved his lips down her jaw, nipping the spot just under her ear as he reached between them and lined himself up with her entrance. He continued kissing down her neck, ghosting his lips along her throat before sitting back and catching her gaze. 

His eyes traced her features, "are you okay, Bea?" 

Beatrice nodded, and cupped his cheek, "I'm okay Buck, please... I need this, I need you" she whispered, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, letting herself be vulnerable for one moment. 

Of course, in a time of passion and lust, this man would take a second to check in on her. He always did have a soft side that came on in moments when it really mattered, but Bea had never thought he would be like that in a moment like this. 

Bucky took her words and nodded once, as he slowly pushed himself into her, capturing her lips once more and swallowing a moan as their sounds mixed together. He paused, letting her adjust to him before slowly pumping his hips against her, letting her whine into his mouth.

It surprised Bea a little that Bucky was being so gentle - perhaps she had imagined him to be a more demanding lover or rougher.

Not that she'd ever thought about what Bucky would be like in bed. 

Oh, who was she kidding - she'd definitely thought about it. More than once.

"Faster," She whined, "Please, Bucky -"

Bucky growled in her ear, "So demanding," He groaned, nibbling lightly on her neck before pushing himself up. 

Without stopping his thrusts, he positioned her legs on his shoulders, grabbed her hips and did exactly as she asked.

"Oh - f-f-fuck!" Bea cried out, her fingers curling into the bedsheets as he angled himself just right, hitting the sweet spot and making sparks fly across her vision.

Bucky groaned, planting soft kisses along her calves as he continued his pace though she only felt him. Her eyes were slammed shut, head thrust back into the pillow. Noises that she wasn't even sure if she was the one making were filling the room around them, the sounds of the built-up tension between them finally crackling like lightning. 

Years of unspoken words hung in the air like stars as she opened her eyes looking up at him. His hair was matted to his forehead from the thin sheen of sweat that covered his body. With flushed cheeks and muscles taut, he released her legs, bringing himself back down to press his lips against her own. 

"You have no idea how much I've needed you," he whispered against her mouth as her hands rested against his cheeks, holding his face to hers. It scared her to admit that she'd been wanting this too but she had a feeling he already knew. 

"Just kiss me again," was all she could manage as the mixture of pleasure and emotions swirled inside of her building with her orgasm.

Bucky crashed his lips down onto hers, their tongues mixing together. He rolled his hips deeper into her, pressing her down into the mattress, his toned body firm against hers softer one. 

Bea pulled away from the kiss, gasping, “Bucky! Oh god, please!”

“What Bea? Tell me, sweetheart, what do you need?” Bucky asked softly, trailing his nose along her jaw, pressing a kiss to that spot behind her ear. “C’mon pretty girl, lemme give it to you.”

Bea whined, head angled to the side to give him more room. “N-need to come,” she moaned as Bucky breathed against her ear. “Please, need you - need to come.”

Bucky kissed her forehead. 

"You first, angel. I need to feel you, need you to be a good girl for me."

She shivered against him and his hips began to snap faster and faster as Bea began to quiver around him. Her fingernails raked down his back, digging into his skin. She began to cry out and moan louder and louder until her cries were bouncing off of the walls. She felt self-conscious for a second, but once he started hitting that spot over and over again, it didn't matter. 

Finally, she crumbled, coming so hard that her eyes squeezed shut and his mouth crashed against hers. 

"That's my girl," he moaned. "God, you're incredible. I wanna make you scream like that every day."

She breathed a whine and mumbled something incoherently every nerve in her body still ignited from her orgasm. Bucky brushed his hand over her cheek with a chuckle as his hips continued to snap against hers. 

"I've got you, Bea," he groaned, the pace of his hips becoming uncontrolled as he approached his own climax. She could feel his cock twitch inside her, as the sensitive nerves of her spot were hit again over and over. 

Their sounds filled her apartment as his hips crashed against hers until finally, he came with a deep moan, burying his face into the crook of her neck. Bea racked her fingers into his hair, tugging gently with a whine as she helped him through the overwhelming pleasure that had taken both of them. 

His hips stilled and they stayed there for a few moments, Bucky pressed soft kisses into her skin, whispering praises into her ear with their breath mixing together.

Slowly, Bucky eased out of her, rolling to the side without letting Bea go.

She shifted, nuzzling against him, relishing the afterglow of what they had just done.

"Still hate me?" He asked, smirking as he pressed a kiss against her forehead.

“Not at the moment,” she grinned, giggling when Bucky feigned a look of shock. He kissed her gently, pulling back and opening his mouth but he was interrupted by a knock at the door. 

“I wonder who that is?” Bea murmured and disentangled herself from Bucky despite his protests. 

“Just leave it doll, they’ll go away.” He tried as she pulled on a robe, covering herself. 

“I’ll be right back,” she promised, slipping out of her room.

She tightened the robe around her and found Steve Rogers climbing in through her kitchen window. Bea cleared her throat and watched as his head snapped up and he yelped, falling inside and onto the floor with a grunt.

"Rogers, you know that's a crime, right?"

Steve clamoured to his feet and dusted himself off. He wasn't drenched, so the rain must have stopped. It suddenly occurred to her that she didn't hear it pattering against the windows, but then again, she was too focused on Bucky.

"You know where Buck is?" He asked. His eyes narrowed. "Why's your hair look like that?"

"Like what?" She snapped.

"All messy."

Bea flushed and cleared her throat.

"I was asleep."

"In your makeup?"

"Rogers, what the hell do you want?"

"Bucky's not home, I thought he might have gotten too drunk again and fallen asleep on your couch."

She sighed, not wanting to burst the little bubble she and Bucky had created. She wanted to go back to bed and feel his arms wrapped around her while she fell asleep.

"I left him at the bar talking to some floozy. He's probably at her place."

Steve sighed and she pointed outside.

"Go home, Steve. He's a big boy, he'll be back tomorrow."

"Yeah, okay." He turned toward the window and Bea snapped her fingers. "Use the door like a human being, please."

"Fiiiiiine," Steve groaned.

She watched him head for the door and take one last look at her over his shoulder, his eyes still filled with doubt. Bea went to lunge at him and he yelped, skittering out the door, slamming it behind him. She huffed and went to lock it before padding back to the bedroom.

"Barnes, tell Rogers to stop climbing in women's windows! He's gonna get punched one day!" 

When she entered her bedroom, Beatrice found Bucky, with his pants pulled halfway up. He cleared his throat and continued getting dressed with a shy smile. For a split second, a wave of hurt washed over her, thinking exactly the thoughts she had about him prior to their night together, but she did her best to push those aside. 

"Where do you think your going?" She faked a pout and wandered over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. 

Bucky groaned and placed his hands on either side of her face, giving her lips a soft kiss, moving to her cheek and ghosting her lips to kiss the tip of her nose, "I'm so sorry sweetheart, you must think I'm awful right now, but I really should get home to check on Steve..." 

Beatrice pulled her lip between her teeth, tracing her eyes over his features with a furrowed brow, "seriously?" 

He shrugged and pulled her tightly against his body, "he worries when I don't come home..." Bucky whispered, brushing her hair away from her face, "I promise we will talk tomorrow, okay?" 

With a small nod of her head, she breathed out and pressed her lips into a thin line, "yeah... yeah of course." 

There it was again, that small twinge of hurt and suddenly she felt like any of the other girls Bucky had dared to bring home. Despite knowing that it was true, Steve always came to her on nights Bucky didn't make it home, but it didn't make her feel any better as she walked him to the front door. 

Bucky captured her lips one last time, savoring the way their mouths fit together like two pieces of the same puzzle, letting his forehead linger against hers as their noses brushed together, "I promise, beautiful... First thing in the morning, I'm all yours" 

With a soft smile, Beatrice bid him good night and watched him linger in the hallway for a few minutes before walking into his own apartment and playing it off to Steve who did in fact sound worried about him. She let herself push away the hurt feelings and enjoy the time she'd spent with Bucky. A side of him she'd never seen before, and one she definitely hoped she'd get to see again. 

She flopped onto her bed with a lopsided smile and ghosted her fingertips over her lips, allowing the exhaustion to take over. Beatrice slipped into a deep sleep, with thoughts of her Bucky dancing through her dreams.

[istorkyou]

A Thousand Battles (Modern!Ivar AU)

A modern!Ivar x F OC (Julietta Lothbrok)

Warnings - Language. Hospital setting. Description of medical procedures (non gory!)

Synopsis - Julietta wakes up with no memory of her life or her husband, Ivar. Will it ever return? Does she want it to?

Word Count - 4534

This is for @blackseapearl 400 follower trope challenge. I asked for Amnesia :)

Shout Outs - A massive shout out to @blackseapearl and @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie for beta reading, ironing out all the mistakes and the motivation to keep going with it. Special hugs to @blackseapearl for talking through the ending with me and giving me some much needed inspiration and the wonderful moodboard.

This fic kicked (and is still kicking!) my ass, I’ve never had such a hard time with motivation as I have writing this long-ass bitch so I hope you enjoy it :)

It’s also LOOOOOOOONNNGGGGGGGG..... and I’m only the tiniest bit sorry about that!

Tag List - Let me know if you want on or off :)@smears-and-spots @punkrocknpearls​​ @youbloodymadgenius​​ @momowhoo​​ @zuxiezendler​​ @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog​ @ivar-s-my-brat-tamer​ @pieces-by-me​ @heavenly1927​​ @berryonasummerevening @synnersaint​​ @out-of-the-box-and-into-alchemy​ @petite-hime​​ @serasvictoria​​ @mimiiinspace​​ @itsmysticalmystery​​ @lonewolf471​​ @mylifeisactuallyamess​​ @draculasbride-blog​​ @love-all-things-writing​​ @southernbe​​ @redhead7799​​ @kaybee87​​ @ivarlover​​ @ivarhoegh​​ @idgafiamallthefandoms​​ @darkphoenix5037​​ @profoundtyrantharmony​​ @snarling-through-our-smiles​​ @crazyunsexycool​​ @xceafh​​ @bragisrunes​​@noway4u @batmandallyboy​​ @complicatedbutrare @readsalot73​​​​ @meandmycherrytree

Chapter 1

She shields her eyes from the sun, much too bright without her sunglasses. She is standing on a white sand beach, the crystal clear waters lapping the shore. She steps into the water until it laps against her knees and then looks down. Hundreds of fish swim around her legs, the brightest hues she’s ever seen, almost luminous as the sun reflects off their scales. A giant tortoise swims past her legs and she reaches down to touch its cold, bumpy shell as it passes by.

Something occurs to her: the water is neither hot nor cold, it is the exact temperature of her skin and she can barely feel it. She looks up and down the beach and it stretches as far as the eye can see although there is not another soul in sight. Listening closely, she realises she doesn’t hear the normal sounds you would expect on the beach: the sound of the waves crashing, the sounds of the gulls squawking. All she hears is a very faint beep, and she has to strain her ears to even catch that. 

She starts to panic, her breath becomes shallow and a rush of cold covers her skin as if she's been dropped into an ice bath. Where is she? Something is wrong. This place is unnerving. She can hear the beeping getting louder as the waves get larger in the silent ocean. She stumbles backwards into the soft sand, neither cold nor hot.

She feels something brush against her hand and jerks away quickly looking over her shoulder to see what touched her. A man stands behind her, a stranger, yet the look on his face suggests he knows her. She tries to step away but he reaches for her hand again. 

“Liet. Wake up, please. Wake up,” he is pleading with her, face carved with anguish. “You have to come back to me, Liet.”

She focuses on a necklace around his neck, a thick silver chain with a flat circle pendant hanging from it. 

“Liet?” 

She shakes her head and looks around the beach again which is now filled with people and the noise you would expect at a busy beach fills her ears. The sounds of talking, shouting, and beeping are becoming unbearable. The panic that started earlier has turned into fear, she can feel her face and chest flush and the urge to scream is overwhelming and as she looks back at the man, his eyes have turned the bluest of blue, bleeding into the whites and his face has changed. His face is tipped down but he is staring up at her with brows pulled close and a menacing smile on his face. 

“They know, Liet. They all know,” his voice doesn’t match his face, it’s high and almost friendly, which only makes it even more sinister and scary. “We all know, Liet.” He lunges for her, hands grabbing for her neck and as she screams and scrambles to get away she trips backwards and everything goes black.

Everything is dark.

Everything hurts.

The beeping is so, so loud. 

She is lying somewhere. Where is she? She can feel warmth in her left hand. Her body feels broken. Breathing hurts, every breath takes effort, as if there is an invisible weight pressing down on her, restricting her lungs. Her head feels too big. The warmth in her hand is strange and she tries to move it away but all she manages is a twitch and the feeling of warmth leaves her skin. 

“Julietta?” asks a voice in the room. The feeling of warmth is back on her hand and now it has a force, gripping her tightly. 

She opens one eye. She isn’t sure why the other won’t open yet. She can make out shadows in the room. But the overwhelming pain she is feeling at the light streaming in from the window forces her eye closed immediately.

“Did she just open her left eye? Did she? Get the doctor. Now!” 

The hand is still squeezing, gentler now. 

“Julietta, open your eyes.” She can hear excitement in the male voice.

She starts to try again but the light is too much. 

“Shut the blinds, it’s too bright for her. Quickly, Godsdammit!” The same voice commands then softens again. “Try again, my love.Try again.”

She opens it slowly and it’s much better now it’s darker. It gives her pupil time to adjust slowly and the shadows turn into people. She tries to move her head but she has something around her neck stopping her so she focuses on what she can see in the left side of the room. A window, three chairs lined up along the wall, two occupied. A chair next to the bed is occupied as well. She manages to focus on the person closest to her. A man holding her hand tightly in both of his, great concern all over his face. He looks familiar, but only vaguely. She doesn’t know why he’s now crying as he watches her open eye. 

“Julietta!” The relief in his voice is palpable and he drops his head down to kiss her hand over and over again. “Thank all the Gods. My love!”

There is a flurry of movement and the man at her bedside is ushered away to the other seats where he is greeted with embraces from two other men. 

The doctor and nurses go about the observations before she closes her eye again. 

—-----------------------

“What is happening?! Why is she not awake anymore?”

“Mr. Lothbrok, her vitals look stable. Please don’t worry, she’s not in a coma any longer, but she will need a significant amount of rest. You should go home, we will call you when she wakes up again.”

“I’m not going anywhere! What a ridiculous suggestion,” Ivar yells dismissively.

“Ivar, she will be asleep for hours yet. Let me at least take you home so you can shower and eat. You haven’t left this room in eight days.” 

“Hvitserk, I will leave this room when she’s well enough to leave it with me.”

“Okay, Brother,” Hvitserk's voice is full of concern. “I’ll bring you anything you need.”

Ivar walks to the side of her bed again and takes up the spot he has been rooted to for over a week. He looks over her face, right eye still swollen shut, right arm in a cast for the breaks and the skin that is visible is still an angry purple in places, in others the purple is fading around the edges to a muddy green and he imagines the rest of the skin he can’t see is in a similar state. Her skin has been sewn back together around her shoulder, by the best plastic surgeon in the country, but there will always be a physical reminder of what happened to her. 

His beautiful Liet.

Ivar’s jaw clenches in anger. He knows she has a long way to go before she is healed fully, but now she is out of immediate danger and his thoughts at once turn to revenge and retribution. The people responsible will pay with their lives. 

As he is allowing the volcano of rage to bubble inside of his chest, threatening to spill out into the world at any second, he catches her eye, open again and she studies him. He leans into her, all rage extinguished for now. 

“My love, you’re awake.” He holds her hand and runs his own hand up her arm slowly, taking care not to hurt her. 

“...am I?” she asks. Her throat must be so dry as her voice doesn’t sound like her own, scratchy and croaky and underused. Probably raw from intubation. 

Ivar smiles at her, the relief at hearing her voice is overwhelming and his tears fall onto her hand as he bends down to kiss it again. 

“Hospital. There was an… accident. You’re okay though. Broken bones and a bad head injury but you'll be okay, my love. I promise.” He smiles and lets out a relieved laugh and kisses her hand and arm.

Julietta watches him as he peppers her skin with love. “Who are you?” she asks quietly. 

His face contorts into confusion, brows pulled close together, before he laughs lightly. 

“Very funny, love. I’m the King of England and you are my Queen!” He laughs again until he looks at her face, and even through the bruising, the swelling, the cuts, he can see she isn’t joking. The left eye that is open is scared, her pupil is dilated in fear. He watches her chest as it is rising quicker than before and the steady beeping starts to quicken. “Julietta. It’s me, Ivar. It’s ok. Don’t worry, it’s just me.” He grabs her hand quickly and she jerks away. 

There are waves of fear rolling off of her, now. He can see it, he can feel it. Ivar stands up slowly and walks to the door, his demeanour is different to how he interacts with her. Nothing soft, just a menacing aura that has the nurse's shoulders rise in fear when they see him, all avoiding eye contact and keeping the widest berth possible.

“Doctor. Immediately. She doesn’t know who I am.”

The doctor is in the room within a couple of minutes, shining a light into her eye. “Do you know your name? What year is it?”

She looks at the stranger in the room who called himself Ivar. 

“Julietta Manresa. I.. I’m not sure.”

“Lothbrok, love. Julietta Lothbrok. We’ve been married for six months,” Ivar interjects before the doctor turns to him and gives him a look of reproach and a tiny shake of his head.

“Well done, Julietta. Tell me what’s wrong.”

—------------------------

She swallows thickly and winces at the feeling. The man called Ivar hands a drink with a straw to the doctor who lets her take a sip.

“I don’t know him. Or anything about me apart from my name. I don’t know my parents' names. I don’t know why I’m here, what happened to me.” She starts to breathe deeper, too deep. 

“Julietta, I know this is confusing but please try to keep calm. I can assure you this is a fairly common side effect for the type of head trauma you have suffered. It’s called Post Traumatic Amnesia.”

How can she calm down? She’s woken up in a hospital bed surrounded by strangers. One claiming to be her husband. She starts to feel light headed and nauseous. She tried to move but it’s almost impossible with the thing on her neck, her arm in a cast, leg in a splint. 

“I don’t know you. You aren’t my husband. I’ve never seen you before,” her voice is rising to as much of a shout as her sore vocal chords will allow. 

The doctor leaves the room quickly.

Ivar steps to the bed and sits down. He doesn’t reach for her hand. “I promise you. You are my wife. Don’t worry about that now, it will come back to you. I love you so much.”

The doctor comes back into the room and starts to inject something into the IV port in her hand. 

“What the fuck is that? Tell me before you give her anything. I’ve told you time and time again,” Ivar’s voice is different again. Low, calm, as intimidating as anything she has ever heard. 

“Mr. Lothbrok, she needs rest. I’ve administered a sedative. She has significant brain swelling. This will help her rest and heal.”

She starts to feel woozy, the IV site has gone cold as whatever the doctor administers travels up her vein. “I’m scared,” she whispers as her eyes focus on a silver chain and pendant around Ivar’s neck; it somehow feels like home. She tried to reach for it but the drugs are making her limbs heavier by the second. 

Ivar takes her hand and brings it up to his mouth to kiss again. “I am here. I will be here when you wake up. Don’t be frightened, we will get through this. My beautiful Liet.”

Julietta hears the last part, the nickname he uses and it permeates a part of her consciousness, seeps into her synapses, making them fire, she’s heard it before. There’s a faint recognition there. She urges her brain to make the connections she desperately needs to piece together her life, but she slips under sedation before anything tangible forms in her brain. 

—————————

As her eyes flutter shut, Ivar's face hardens. “Don’t ever give my wife drugs I have not approved. I want to know everything she is given. I will break your legs if you disobey me again. Am I being understood?” 

—————————

The doctor looks into the eyes of Ivar, blue as the arctic ocean and twice as cold. He knows who Ivar Lothbrok is, what he does, who his family are. His reputation more than precedes him. He is someone not to cross, and even though the doctor has a duty of care primarily to his patients, and in this situation he would usually tell the family member to jump, he isn’t a fool. 

“Of course. If you are not here and there is an emergency how should I proceed?” 

“I am not leaving her side. So that will not be a problem,” Ivar advises him. “Don’t be facetious with me. I know you were asking my brother about the guards outside her room. They are staying until she leaves.” Ivar slowly walks towards the doctor who backs up, almost tripping backwards over the IV stand. “Do not question my actions again. My patience has all but disappeared due to this whole situation and I am not known to be a patient man at the best of times. I want to know when you are off shift so I can tell the other doctors the same as I have told you.” The doctor nods quickly.

He turns away and walks back to take up his spot next to his wife. “How long will she be asleep?” 

The doctor clears his throat. “At least twelve hours,” he says with a shake in his voice, nerves clear. 

Ivar doesn’t take his eyes off her face. “Thank you for saving her life.” 

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Julietta swings from consciousness to dreams for weeks, the fabric of reality stretched thin in her head, so much so that most of the time she isn’t sure if she is awake or asleep. What she does know is that when she is present in the hospital room, real or in her head, Ivar is there, at her side, talking to her gently, telling her stories she can’t recall.

Oftentimes she is back on the beach. This she knows is not her consciousness. It’s bathed in moonlight now, a blue and silver light reflecting off of the silent, black ocean. She doesn’t enter the water this time, too apprehensive in the dark. She looks up and down again and sees only a tiny beach hut illuminated by a soft yellow glow. She walks to it and can’t hear muffled talking. Heated talking. She doesn’t knock on the door, she pushes it open to find Ivar standing in front of a man she’s never seen before. The stranger has black hair shaved close to his scalp, deep olive skin and black stubble over his handsome face. He has a scar running through his right eyebrow. They stop talking and both look at her silently. 

She sees love on both their faces. 

The stranger stands up, taking a step past Ivar towards her. “Etta, where are you? I miss you.” He asks in Russian.

Ivar moves between them giving the stranger a look of displeasure. His face softens when he looks back to her. “Liet, who is this?” He cups her face and kisses her softly. “Who is he, love?” 

She shakes her head in confusion, looking past Ivar to the stranger who has recoiled at the scene in front of him. “I…I don’t know, Ivar. I don’t know who he is.”

A laugh of disbelief leaves the stranger. “Etta? It’s me.”

“I don’t know who you are,” she replies.

“Let’s go, Liet,” Ivar weaves his arm over her shoulder and looks back over his to the man. “You are not important.”

As she allows Ivar to lead her out of the hut and back out into the night, everything goes black again. The damn beeping has returned too, she notices.

Beep.

Beep.

Her eyes open. Both this time. She feels less sore than the last time she woke up from the beach. She is able to move her neck now and can see to the right for the first time. A bed is next to her, pushed up so close they are touching and Ivar is asleep next to her on it. Her head feels like a normal size now and she shifts her head on the pillow to stare at him. His hand is on her arm, his short hair is shaved in the sides but it needs cutting, making her wonder how long she’s been in the hospital, with him by her side. He has stubble over his face and she can see the thick purple lines under his eyes, he looks exhausted. 

She studies him for a long time, trying to remember anything she can, but nothing comes. Nothing at all. The only memories of him are from when she came out of the coma. She tries to recall other aspects of her life. Friends, family, the name of her schools, any pets she’s had, what food she likes. 

Nothing. 

It’s like shouting into a bottomless chasm: nothing but the echo of the questions asked coming back to her. Like trying to enter an impenetrable castle, banging on the door and being ignored. 

Nothing.

Who am I? I have not one memory of my life. Not one. Am I even real? If I don't have any memories, do I even really exist? Have I ever existed? Am I dead? Is this purgatory?

She starts to panic again and she turns to the only person in the world who has been here for her for this whole ordeal. 

“Ivar... Ivar,” she whispers quietly. She needs something, she needs comfort and she only has one source of that it seems. This stranger who says he is her husband. “Ivar.” She repeats and his eyes fly open.

“Julietta! You’re awake. Do you remember me? Let me fetch the doctor.”

Her panic rises, the thought of being left completely alone in the world terrifies her so she grips his arm tightly. “NO! Don’t leave me. Please. I don’t remember you, I'm sorry.” She starts to cry. “Ivar, am I dead?”

Ivar’s face crumples at her words and he slides close to her, as close as he can without disturbing the tangle of wires attached to her. As he slides his arm over her waist he kisses her on the cheek and wipes her falling tears, then does the same to his own. 

“You're not dead, my love. You are very much alive, you are the strongest woman I’ve ever met. A fighter, my best shield maiden. Odin’s own Valkyrie. We will get through this together.” 

His presence calms her fears, makes her breaths come easier, slows her racing heart. 

“Who am I?”

Ivar sniffs and rubs his nose on his sleeve. “I think we should talk to the doctor first before I start telling you things. I don’t want to overwhelm you. Just know that you are Julietta Lothbrok, we have been married for six months now and we’ve been together for three years. Look,” he reaches for a framed photo on the cabinet next to his bed, “this is one of our wedding photos,” he says, holding it in front of her face. 

It is them, on their wedding day. She is in a beautifully elegant, lace dress with gold detailing and he is in a navy suit. They are holding hands and looking at each other with massive smiles on their faces. 

“See, baby. It’s us,” Ivar says, so proudly. 

Julietta notices Ivar is holding a walking stick and he has something wrapped around each leg. She reaches her left hand up to touch the picture, running her finger over his legs. “You had an accident as well?” She glanced down at his legs, no braces now. 

He laughs lightly at her. “No accident, love. Bone disease. My braces are over there.” He gestures to the side of the bed. 

“We looked happy.” She glances at him shyly, catching his eyes and noticing how blue they are. 

“We are happy,” he replies with a wide smile. “I’m going to get the doctor, okay? I will be right back, I promise.” 

———————-

More time passes in the hospital. She isn’t sure how much time, she just knows she is healing more and more, but only physically. Her memory is still non-existent. She has asked Ivar many questions over her time here, questions about herself and her accident but he is always vague or evades the questions completely, saying it’s doctors orders not to overload her with information in her unstable condition. 

He still hasn’t left her side. He gets food delivered to the room, by an app on his phone or by one of his four brothers, mainly one called Hvitserk who, despite being told by Ivar not to, only refers to her as “sister” and insists on hugging her every time he comes into her room. She is getting used to it now, even though at first she didn’t like it one bit; it felt overly familiar and intrusive. 

Another brother, Ubbe, brings work for Ivar to sign. He often comes into the hospital room, gives her a quick smile and whisks Ivar into the hall where they have heated yet hushed discussions. She watches Ivar intently during these discussions, his face is always angry, aggressive and his body language mirrors this. 

After one such visit from Ubbe, Ivar returns to the room more agitated than usual. 

“Ivar. What do you do for work? You seem… different when you are speaking with others,” she questions tentatively.

His head whips to her so fast that it makes her jump, his expression one that she’s never seen directed at her before. She shifts uncomfortably under his gaze. His face softens. “Julietta , I don’t think that is a topic we should discuss first. How about something less complicated? About you?”

Julietta nods quickly. “How long have I been here?”

“We are in the fifth week now. You were in a coma for over a week and spent another few in and out of sedation until the swelling on your brain went down. There has been talk that I will be able to take you home soon,” he says with a hope filled voice.

She gives him a small smile. “Don’t I have parents? No one has visited me.” She is dreading the answer but deep down, a part of her already knows. 

Ivar tips his head to the side slightly and grimaces almost imperceptibly, but she catches it. “My love, your parents died ten years ago in a car crash. I’m so sorry to have to tell you that.” He walks to the bed and she shifts over, allowing him room to lay next to her, both on their sides facing each other. They have been doing this over the last few days. She can see how much being close to her means to him, a physical need he has, and by the way it calms her own body, she figures she needs physical comfort as well. 

“I think some part of me knew that,” she tells him with a little shrug. “We don’t have children?” 

“No, love.”

“What happened to me, Ivar? Please tell me. I can handle it.”

He stares at her for a while and takes a massive breath in, closing his eyes. “You were hit by a car. It swerved onto the pavement and hit you when you were leaving the gym. It was a hit and run. We have…we have yet to find out who did it.”

That information shocks her to her core. She assumed she’d been in a car accident, but not a hit and run. “It wasn’t an accident? Someone meant to run me over?” The shock of the information sends a bolt of dread through her, her eyes start to sting and her nose starts to fizz. “Why?”

The pain on Ivar’s face is clear, pain at having to break the news to her, pain at having to relive the memory, there is guilt in his expression, she recognises that. 

“I think that’s enough information for now. Little by little, okay, baby? The important thing is you are alive, and what is gone will return. Go to sleep, you need to rest.”

He’s right, that’s a lot of information to digest all at once, she needs time for it to sink in and sort through the feelings involved, so she nods at him.

“We will talk more tomorrow. I’m looking forward to telling you about your unhealthy love of Chinese food!”

Julietta sniffs at this information, “I’ve been thinking about noodles a lot this week. That would explain it.”

“Silly thing, why didn’t you tell me? I will get some, do you want some now? What else do you want? Actually, don’t think, I will just get your favourite.” He leans in to kiss her and she pulls back. “Sorry,” he tells her with a look of deepest disappointment, “force of habit.”

She feels embarrassed. She should have let him kiss her, he’s her husband after all. “Don’t be sorry.” She moves her face to his and gives him a soft, chaste kiss on the lips. When she pulls away his face is so happy it makes her smile and kiss him again. Her stomach does a tiny flip when she kisses him. “Thank you for not leaving me alone, Ivar.”

“I’ll never leave you.”

Chapter 2

[youalexturnermeon]

Warm Beer and Cold Women (Johnny Lawrence x Reader)

Request: Hi! I absolutely love your work and I was wondering if I could get a Cobra Kai Johnny imagine where the reader is a bartender and starts crushing on him since he’s a regular and he flirts with her all the time and she pretends to hate it but she actually loves it? by Anon

A/N: Again, Johnny Lawrence x Reader and again it’s gonna be multiple parts (ONLY IF YOU WANT ME TO) because I just can’t keep it short

Warnings: badass reader, drinking, swearing

Wordcount: 1589

“Look, (Y/N), your boyfriend’s back.”

You heard that sentence almost every day during your late shift. Everyday, for about a month now. Jenny, your college at the half empty bar never held herself back. Just like right at the moment when she said that with a grin as you two stood behind the counter and polished glasses to look busy.

You rolled your eyes, “He’s not my boyfriend!” You insisted on it every night as well.

“Your loss, he’s kinda hot”. And Jenny’s answer was also the same every time. This conversation always felt like a déjà-vu, except that it literally happened to you every damn night you had to work. You let out a deep sigh trying to focus on the empty glass in one of your hands and the dirty cloth in the other. Yet you couldn’t help yourself to take a peek at the man who just arrived and took his regular seat at the end of the bar counter. He came here every day and he never made a secret out of doing it just because of his favourite barkeeper – you. He was indeed hot; you thought every time. Although he probably was in his late 40s or maybe even early 50s and looked like he’d seen some shit in his life, he was damn attractive, he had a full head of blonde hair, the bluest eyes you have ever witnessed on a person and he was more athletic than most men your age. You caught yourself hungrily eyeing his toned body, muscles almost popping through the tight black shirt he was wearing.

“Hey gorgeous,” he called over to you when he noticed your glance. And the biggest and brightest smile appeared on his lips. “Hi, Johnny.” you greeted him back, trying to sound the most disinterested and lazily walked over to him.

“Who do I have to screw to get a beer around here?”

You rolled your eyes again, supressing a stupid grin. You almost allowed your brain to picture an image of you two in the men’s bathroom. You pulled yourself together and shook this indecent thought off.

“Most certainly not me.”

“Well, that’s too bad.”

“But if you want me to,” you gestured with your thumb to the door, ‘staff’ written on it, behind you, “I can go fetch Kenny, he won’t say no to that. It’ll get you at least 2 free drinks, I think.”

Kenny was a big old biker, with long grey hair and a long grey beard, dressed in leather from head to toe, who owned the shabby bar you worked in. He also looked quite scary if one didn’t know him. Johnny’s smile twitched into a disgusted grimace. And you laughed from planting the thought of Johnny screwing Kenny inside his head. He didn’t like him very much.

“If you weren’t the hottest chick I have seen in my whole life, I would’ve called you a stupid bitch of a barkeeper and left you without any tip. But your pretty face and your great ass saves you all the time, huh?”

“Yes, Johnny,” you replied sarcastically “this has brought me very far in live, after all I’m a respectable barkeeper in not the shabbiest bar of Reseda but quite close to it, renting a luxury 1-bedroom apartment next to the most famous meth-head on the block for much more than it’s worth. Are you having the usual?” Johnny nodded, and you went off to get him his beer and whisky. Sometimes it was hard for you to be so mean to him, he was the only man on earth who showered you with complements all the time, not giving up flirting with you no matter what you said. But after all, he was still a local drunk hitting on a barkeeper. There was a lot of those, you had a few of them every night and Jenny even more. The only thing different about Johnny was that he was very good-looking and the most persistent of them all.

Jenny winked at you as you drew a beer from the tap system and poured the cheap brown liquid into a shot glass.

“How’s the love life going?”

“Fuck off, Jenny!”, you grunted and made your way back to the regular. You placed his order in front of him and stood still, arms crossed. To be fair, you didn’t have anything else to do, it was Tuesday night and only a few people sat in the dark corners of the bar getting drunk just by themselves. You might as well just let yourself entertain by the man who appreciated you.

“So, tell me,” Johnny started after he took the first sip of his beer, “How is live treating you, (Y/N), anything badass happened to you recently? You good?”

He always asked you how you were although you never really answered. You admired his endurance.

“Actually, quite the opposite?”

Johnny’s eyes widened a little and he stood his beer glass back on the counter. Surprised about a different answer today and curious for it being elaborated.

“What is it?”

You leaned over the counter and lured him closer to you with your finger, so close that his face was right in front of yours and your breath tickled him. He smelled quite nice, you reckoned, you did not expect that.

“The thing is,” you started whispering into his ear, him excitedly leaning even closer to you, happy over the slightest contact “there’s this creep who keeps coming into the bar. Almost every day, I think he’s a high-functioning alcoholic. And he just can’t leave me alone for once, always hitting on me, always talking to me. He might as well be stalking me and he’s like 20 years older than I am. Should I be afraid of him?”

Even though all you said was a lie since you didn’t think of Johnny as a creepy stalker anymore, rather a lonely guy, your words weren’t intended to be so hurtful. As soon as they left your lips you bit your tongue. Was that too much this time? But you wanted to get rid of him, did you?

“I heard he’s a quite good-looking bastard, tough.” Johnny retorted immediately without even flinching as if none of what you said struck him in the slightest. And that’s what you liked about him, he still wanted to woo you.

“And maybe if you’d give him a chance, you’d realize what a good fucking guy he is.”

You let out a hateful laugh. That would break your one and only work-rule.

“Nah, I don’t fuck with regulars.”

“Who said something about fucking?”

You bit your lip, no one did, it was your brain picturing you and Johnny again.

“You look damn hot doing that,” he said with a smirk and you promptly released your lip from your teeth.

“I’ll cook dinner, we watch a movie on my couch – “

“Thank you very much but I can have stale pasta at home by myself.“ you interrupted him, the corners of your mouth twitching. To be honest, you would like to have that, but you already were too far into acting like you hated everything he said and did and above all just him as a person.

“C’mon, (Y/N), when do you finally let met buy you a drink”

“Maybe tomorrow.”

Johnny rolled his beautiful blue eyes, “You say that all the time”

“Because you ask me that all the damn time.”

“’Cause I like you.” “Seriously Johnny, fuck off, you’re boring me.”

“Why do you always have to be such a bitch to me?” he exclaimed and maybe you were imagining that but for the first time since for ever you could make frustration out in his tone. That was exactly what you wanted, right?

“Woah,” you held your hands up “Watch your filthy mouth. You’ll have to give me a big fucking tip tonight, Johnny or I really go fetch Kenny so he can kick your sorry ass out for good.”

“No, I’ll just screw him instead, then I’ll be fine” You snorted, that man was unbelievable. Johnny, clearly satisfied with himself and his joke smiled with triumph.

“See, I made you laugh”

“Yeah, whatever” you said waving. And in that moment the huge mountain of a man, Kenny, came out of his office and stared blankly into Johnny.

“You’re gonna do what!?”, his voice roared through the bar, and Johnny suddenly became all small in his seat. You burst out laughing and finally used that situation to remove yourself from that scene. After all, you had work to do, you couldn’t just spend all your hours with Johnny. Even if you liked to.

“Uh oh,” Jenny said mockingly when you leaned against the counter next to her with a big sigh, “Relationship troubles?”

You nodded with a grin and made yourself a shot of vodka ready. You threw your head back and poured it down your throat all at once, you groaned but it felt good.

“Wow, would it have killed you if you did that with that poor guy over there?” Jenny signed over to Johnny, now sitting all alone looking down his fourth beer.

You shrugged; you didn’t want to indulge him that much.

“C’mon, you clearly in love with him and you know that.” “I don’t!” “You do, you like him.” “I fucking don’t. Stop making shit up in your hollow head!”

But that was a lie. For you the sun shone out his ass, that’s how much you liked him.

**************************************************************************************

Would you guys like me to write a second or maybe a third part??? Pls let me know?

also, let me know if you want to be tagged in my one shots and stuff

PART 2

[let-it-raines]

another kind of green (1/?)

Emma Swan spends her days in pretty white dresses and heavy layers of makeup. Day after day and dress after dress, she poses for pictures and acts like she’s in love and having the happiest day of her life with the man standing next to her.

It’s not. This is all a gig, and at the end of the day, she’s no longer the girl in the pretty dress who’s faking getting married for a magazine cover or a wedding convention. Instead, she’s the girl who probably never wants to get married.

Little does she know, she already is.

Rating: Mature

a/n: Everybody remember that Accidentally Married + Forgotten First Meeting prompt @mayquita​ gave me? Well, @xemmaloveskillianx​ requested it as part of my Fic Giveaway, and here we are! I hope that you enjoy this, lovely! I promised myself I’d get the first part up in February because I’ve been promising you this forever. Hopefully the next parts will come soon💚

Thanks to @resident-of-storybrooke​ for reading over this for me!

Found on AO3 | Here |

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or removed, no biggie either way) @xemmaloveskillianx​ @stahlop @shardminds @carpedzem @captainsjedi  @galaxyzxstark @thejollyroger-writer @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @xellewoods @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @shireness-says @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @a-faekindagirl @ultimiflos @jamif @dreameronarooftop15 @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke  @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @teamhook @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @superchocovian @ultraluckycatnd @cs-forlife @andiirivera @qualitycoffeethings @jonirobinson64 @mariakov81 @spartanguard @snowbellewells

-/- 

“So, what am I doing?”

“It’s a wedding convention,” Mary Margaret explains as she pulls the threads to button Emma into her dress, “and part of it is having wedding vendors watch a fake wedding so they can see what to do and what not to do and how a wedding should flow.”

“That’s a real thing? And you signed me up to work it?”

“It’s a real thing. Did you not read the package I sent you when I emailed you your contract?”

“Marg, you’ve been my agent for five years. I usually just trust what you say.” The dress squeezes Emma, and her breath stutters. Damn this dress is tight. How is she supposed to stay in this all day? How do actual women do this? And pay money to do this? The whole wedding industry is some kind of hoax. “Plus, this pays, like, three thousand dollars with a free trip to Vegas. I saw that and didn’t really care what exactly I had to do for it.”

Emma knows that Mary Margaret it probably rolling her eyes and that she has a lecture on the tip of her tongue about Emma reading her contracts, but it’s nothing Emma hasn’t heard before. It’s the former teacher in Mary Margaret, but this is why Emma has her in the first place. She takes care of all things business, and all Emma does is show up for fittings – usually wedding dresses but occasionally regular clothes for boutiques to put on their websites or Instagram pages – and photoshoots. It’s a good arrangement that Emma doesn’t plan on changing until she has to, but that’s not going to be anytime soon. This is good money, and she’s not stupid enough to pass up on a good thing when those have been all too rare in her life.

“We’ve got an hour until you have to be in the ballroom downstairs. I’ll read the guidelines to you as you get your hair pinned back because you’re going to need to know the flow of the wedding since you’re supposed to stay in character as a loving bride for the entire day. I do mean loving, Emma. You have to smile nearly the entire time. You’re going to have to kiss this man too, okay?”

“Wait, what?”

Mary Margaret’s sigh is the loudest Emma has ever heard it.

-/-

It turns out that Emma definitely needed to read the packet (at least more than an hour before the job) detailing what exactly her job today was going to be, and she swears to herself that she’ll do it next time she’s not doing a simple photoshoot.

(She won’t, but she really should.)

There are lines that Emma has to say, and there’s a minute-by-minute schedule of where she’s supposed to be standing and what she’s supposed to be doing. It’s basically an acting job, and while that isn’t really Emma’s thing, she can do it. She’s always been able to easily memorize things, a habit she picked up growing up not knowing how long she’d be allowed to use the computer or have a book in whatever shitty foster home she was in, and she’s almost got this fake wedding thing down.

Fake pictures with bridesmaids.

Fake wedding ceremony.

Fake pictures with her fake husband.

Fake reception.

Fake everything.

She doesn’t have enough friends to be going to actual weddings every other weekend, which is good for her bank account, but she’s been working in the wedding industry for long enough and seen one too many romantic comedies to know how most of this works. Pretending to be a bride for more than an hour or two might be a different story since she apparently has to keep her smile the entire time.

God, her jaw hurts just thinking about it.  

Mary Margaret hands her off to the director for the day, some peppy woman with red hair and the brightest smile she’s ever seen, and Emma is quickly shuffled to a back room where she’s given directions that should take an hour to give in under a minute. Damn that woman can talk.

She’s also introduced to her husband for the day.

He’s standing in the opposite corner of the room, dressed in a perfectly fitted blue tuxedo with a matching bowtie, and she sees his biceps flex when he crosses his arms over his chest. He’s got a sharp jawline that’s covered in black scruff that’s a lighter shade than the hair on his head that’s swooped to the side, and he’s got the bluest eyes Emma has ever seen.

Damn.

Basically, he’s a model like all of the other models she works with on a regular basis, and as attractive as he is, she’s used to it. She’s definitely never going to see the guy again because while they’re in Vegas for the convention, she lives in Boston, and from the deep timber of his possibly British accent, she imagines he is based out of London or New York or something.

Killian is his name. He mentions his last name, but then the director, Anna, Emma thinks, is tugging them away to different places to start the wedding so that she doesn’t hear it well enough to remember it.

Oh, well, she’s got a fake wedding to attend.

-/-

Being a fake bride is a damn good time.

Remembering her lines and her cues is more difficult than she thought it would be, if only because she learned it all at the last minute, but once the actual ceremony is finished and they get to move onto the reception, everything is great. There’s drinking and dancing (her fake groom is a damn good dancer, and while she expected them to sway back and forth for the first dance, she thinks it might have been an actual dance like the waltz or something) and more drinking. Emma doesn’t even really like champagne, but when she’s given free champagne on the job, she’s going to take it.

She’d be dumb to pass that up, right?

Right.

“Swan,” Killian calls out, walking up to her at their head table where she’s snagging one of the appetizers off the plate, “they want us back out dancing.”

“Are you serious?” she mumbles, mouth full of a crab cake.

“Apparently none of these vendors have seen a couple dancing at a wedding.”

Emma huffs and grabs another crab cake. “Well, take me away sailor.”

Killian grabs her hand, warm and rough fingers so unlike most guys in the industry pressing into her skin, and tugs her along into the small group of people who are moving to the music. Emma’s not sure if they’re also models or actors or whatever or if they’re legitimately just the wedding vendors attending the event, but she doesn’t really care. So she wraps her arms around Killian’s neck as he puts his hands on her hips and tugs her closer until their bodies are completely pressed together as the music continues to play over the speakers.

But then the music is changing to something a bit faster, and Emma is pulling back from him while still staying close, making sure that their bodies are continuously pressed together. She’s not in a club or a bar, and she’s not nearly drunk enough to be grinding down on someone she doesn’t know, but she’s in a wedding dress at her fake wedding. When else is she going to get a chance to do this?

(Almost every other day at her job, but that’s decidedly beside the point.)

(And she’s usually not dancing. Just wearing a wedding dress.)

(Her life is too much and too strange if she takes the time to think about it.)

Besides, Killian is hot. In her mind, she can’t think of any other way to describe him, especially when his hands are pressing against her waist and he’s rolling his hips into her ass and his breath is hot in her ear as he laughs and keeps speaking words that seem to roll into each other as the conversation keeps flowing. She could listen to his accent forever.

It’s not going to be forever, though, because when they’re told that they’re finished with their job and stripped out of the expensive dress and tailored tux and put back into the clothes they showed up in this morning, the night seems to be winding down to its natural end.

Until, that is, Killian takes her hand once more, asks her if she’d like to go up to his room for another drink, and Emma says yes, thinking to herself that it’s definitely going to be a one-time thing. She’ll never see him again, never have to look into his eyes or hear his voice, and nothing is going to keep her from sleeping with the hot guy she’s spent all day pretending to be in love with.

She’s not in love, though, but that doesn’t keep her from hotly pressing her mouth to his as they walk through the hotel’s hallway, the both of them stopping in their tracks to take a few moments to press each other up against a wall on the way to his hotel room. She doesn’t know how long it takes to get there, especially since they seem to keep getting distracted and wander into new places, but Emma doesn’t care. She doesn’t care because his scruff feels deliciously perfect brushing up against her thigh, and she doesn’t care because he’s warm and thick, stretching her and filling her, when he slides in and presses down on top of her. She doesn’t care because even though she knows they’re both only doing this as a way to scratch an itch, this is a damn good night.

Her fake husband is going to make some other woman very lucky on their real wedding night, but for now, that’s not something she’s going to think about.

For now, this pleasure is all hers.

His too, if his words are any real indication.

(They definitely are.)

-/-

“What am I doing today?”

“You have dress fittings for the summer catalog of dresses.”

“How? It’s literally August. How can it be time for the summer catalog of dresses again?”

Mary Margaret sighs on the other end of the phone. One day she’s most definitely going to drop Emma as a client and a friend and return to teaching because Emma can never quite seem to get her shit together on how the wedding industry works. She’s already prepping herself for the same lecture that she’s heard at least twenty times by now.

“People plan their weddings months to years in advance, Emma. This is actually a late photoshoot. I think they want the pictures up on the website by next month, so you cannot miss this appointment.”

“Have I ever missed an appointment, Marg?”

“Yes, remember when – ”

“That was one time,” Emma interrupts, rolling over on her mattress and getting out of bed. If she doesn’t do it now, she never will. “And I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. It’s at ten, okay? Ask for Ashely.”

“Are you not coming?”

“I’ve got a shoot with Ruby. I figured you can handle a fitting by yourself.” There’s a short pause. “You can handle a fitting by yourself, can’t you?”

“Yes, Mom.”

“I hate it when you call me that.”

“Then stop acting like such a mom.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Yeah, well, when you don’t have a mom…”

“Emma.”

“Sorry,” Emma spits out, wanting to change the conversation as quickly as possible. “So ask for Ashley?”

“Ask for Ashley, and don’t drink all of the complimentary champagne.”

Emma groans. “I can’t even think about champagne. I think I’m still recovering from that hangover from two weeks ago. I mean, who goes to Vegas and gets drunk on champagne?”

“People who work in the wedding industry. It’s basically our water. Bye, Emma. I’ve got to go.”

“Bye, Marg. Tell David he still owes me from losing that poker game.”

“I’m sure he’ll love to hear that.”

“Yeah, yeah.” After Mary Margaret hangs up the phone, Emma quickly walks into her bathroom, brushing her hair out and pulling it up into a ponytail before washing her face and rubbing moisturizer into her skin. She used to curl her hair and do a full face of makeup every time she had a fitting, but she doesn’t do that anymore. There’s no point. They’ll put makeup on her when they need it.

Fifteen minutes later she’s drinking her second cup of coffee for the day, lacing up her sneakers so she can go to the gym after the fitting, and then she’s grabbing her phone and her keys only for there to be a knock at the door. She almost ignores it, figuring it’s someone trying to sell her a new knife set or something else ridiculous like that, but when she looks through her peephole, there’s something oddly familiar about the guy. But she meets a lot of people, so that’s not all that uncommon.

Sighing, she undoes the chain on her door and opens it the slightest bit so she can talk to the guy and see what he wants.

“Who are you?”

He smiles, lips curling up into a smirk while his blue eyes glint under the florescent lights. “Your husband, love.”

[eyesfixedonthesun22]

Good Kids, Bad Ideas

Summary: Bucky’s rivalry with Edward Rooney, a power hungry Coney Island ride operator, ramps up to a whole new level. During the dog days of summer, you and your boys are desperate to cool off. Pairing: Bucky x Reader, Eventual Stucky x Reader Warning(s): Cursing, Smut 18+, Kissing, Fingering, Oral (female receiving) Word Count: 3,856, he’s a long boi. sorry. Beta Reader: My darling honey bun, @supersoldiersruined-me Notes: This is my entry to @suz-123 1.5K writing challenge. Congrats darling! Rules was one of my first things and read and still a huge favorite to read. I’ll never forget my little freakout when you commented on She’s So High. You deserve all the followers and million’s more.

My prompt was “First of all, you can never go too far! Second of all, if I’m going to be caught, it’s not gonna be by a guy like that!” from Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. I tried to sneak a couple other movie references in there too. ;) Looking up 40’s nsfw slang at work was super fun. Also, I’m pretty sure Coney Island never had love boats, but it sounded the most fun for plot. It’s an 80’s challenge...so naturally I wrote 40’s Stucky.

Picturesque fluffy white clouds float past you on the brightest background of blue sky you’ve ever seen. You only get to enjoy it briefly before your vision is tunneling. The smell of cotton candy, fried dough, and buttered popcorn gets banished from your nostrils by a scent so distinct you’d never mistake it. You can still hear the delighted screams of children coming from one hundred and fifty feet below but it’s faint compared to the whispers in your ear.

“That’s it, baby girl. Fuck you squeeze me so tight when you cum.”

Once you come down from your high, you’re able to pry open your eyes once more. Gone is the vast expanse of sky in front of you. You’re now level with the flashing flights and whirling rides as the sun basks its rays over Coney Island. Your senses come back to you one by one and you become acutely aware of the man sharing the seat with you.

James Buchanan Barnes was nothing but trouble. At least, that’s what your mother had always said. You’d known him since elementary school, but your paths had deviated when you attended a women's only college preparatory high school. Your father had hoped it would dissuade you from your habit of running around with the block trouble maker and his best friend Steve Rogers. It had deterred you, until one night at the dance hall where you felt a tap on your shoulder followed by the bluest eyes you’d ever seen.  

The three of you had fallen right back into where you’d left things off. Much to your parent’s disgust, you’d moved into the same apartment with Bucky and Steve once things between you and Bucky had left friendship territory. Your revere is interrupted by another jolt of pleasure as the Wonder Wheel comes to a halt.

“You got one more in you darlin’?” Bucky coos into your ear,  fingers still inside you. You can smell the slightest hint of powdered sugar mixed in with his intoxicating aroma; no doubt fallout from the funnel cake he had demolished prior to the Ferris wheel.

“Bucky, if Rooney catches us again, I swear he’s gonna ban us.”

**************************************************************************************************

Early on in your physical relationship, Bucky had discovered a little quirk of yours. You’d always seemed to cum the hardest when you knew there was a risk of Steve walking in on you. Bucky decided to test a theory. One day at the movies, you two had been necking when he had slowly slid  up your skirt. You didn’t even protest. Later on when he’d asked your thoughts, you’d confirmed that you enjoyed the danger of it. He’d since coupled the rush from getting caught with the rush of amusement park rides making you some of Coney Island’s best customers this summer.

The only problem with this newfound exhibitionist habit was one Edward R. Rooney. All the other Coney Island employees seemed oblivious to the blushing cheeks, stifled moans, and quick skirt and trouser adjusting. Not Rooney.

Turns out Bucky had known the weasley faced carnival worker in high school. They had it out for one another. This summer, Rooney had made it his personal mission to get you and Bucky caught in your scandalous activity and kicked out once and for all. The rivalry was childish and stupid, but then again, so was high school.

**************************************************************************************************

The fire of your second orgasm flares low in your abdomen with each pump of his fingers. You pry your naked thighs from the plastic seat of the Ferris wheel car to open them wider for him. You’re right on the brink and so ready to fall over the edge once more.

“That’s right baby. So close. So fuckin’- ah fuck.”

“James Barnes. Oh, and Y/N Y/L/N. Publicly fornicating once again!”

Your bliss is shattered. Your eyes open in embarrassment realizing the Ferris wheel had descended the final distance and it was your turn to disembark. Standing in front of you was none other than Edward Rooney. You hurriedly fix your skirts; skin blushing from chest to cheeks. You’re hoping to simply push past Rooney to safety, but he has other plans. He grasps your arm roughly and berates you.

“Running around with scum like Barnes; such a filthy hussy. I wouldn’t-”

“Hey Punk! Get your hands off my girl?!” Bucky shoves between you and Rooney. You’re helpless to stop the altercation. Thankfully the next car has descended and out rushes Steve.

“Stevie! Please go talk him down. I don’t want a scene.” You knew sending a scraper like Steve into the disagreement could have been simply adding fuel to the fire, but you alone stood no chance of talking Bucky down.

Rooney has called the manager over and the argument has escalated. Everyone is heated in the already sweltering summer day. The final verdict is handed down. As the manger has never seen anything first hand, you and Bucky aren’t banned. However, as a caution you’re not allowed on rides without supervision of another patron. Next offense and the manager would call the cops for public indecency and you’d be banned for the summer. No one is happy with the outcome, but you’re allowed to go on your way.

“If you weren’t such a floozy, Y/N, I’d show you what a real time looks like!” Rooney calls as one final taunt. Before Bucky can retaliate, it’s Steve who comes to your defense.  

“Pardon my French, but you’re an asshole. Asshole!”

**************************************************************************************************

You all decided to let a couple weeks pass for things to die down with the Rooney/Bucky rivalry. The three of you are laying on the floor in the living room of your apartment. You have every window in the place open, but the air feels stagnant and stale. The coolness the wood floors had originally offered was now spent and you could feel the sweat collecting in the small of your back. Bucky and Steve had been arguing if it was better to go out or stay in with the heat.

“I’m dying.”

“Oh shut up, Buck. You’re not dying. You just can’t think of anything good to do.” Steve turns his head to look at you and mouths “Melodramatic ass.”

“I heard that!”

“I don’t care, ya melodramatic ass.” He repeats again, earning laughter from you.

“Don’t make me laugh, Stevie. Laughing makes me hot. If I get any hotter, I will spontaneously combust.” Steve moves to nudge you back in the stomach. His hand pulls away quickly. He’d forgotten you all had stripped down to cool off; the boys in their undershorts and you in a nearly transparent slip lacking a brassiere. He wasn’t willing to have to explain a sudden tent in his shorts.

“Let’s go to Coney Island.”

“You wanna go see your best friend.” Steve pokes at Bucky again.

“No... but the movement from the rides will at least make a breeze. Plus, they have ice cream.”

“Darling, how do you plan on working around our little supervision stipulation?”

“Steve is supervision!”

“Oh no I’m not!”

“Please Stevie,” you beg. “Ice cream does sound really good.” You turn and bat your eyelashes at him.

“How could I say no to that face?” You thank him profusely as you plant a kiss to his cheek. You’re up and already to the bedroom so you don’t see the deep crimson in Steve’s cheeks, but Bucky does.

“Looks like she’s got us both wrapped around her finger, huh bud.”

**************************************************************************************************

Avoiding rides with only two seats proved difficult. The Ferris wheel was out of the question. You did manage to convince Steve to join you on The Cyclone. You’d apologized profusely afterwards seeing his green face. The B&B Carousel was fine but hardly moved enough to cool you off. You were all sitting on a bench enjoying some ice cream and planning your next move.

“Let’s do another coaster,” Bucky says before taking an insanely large bite out of his cone.

“NO! Buck, my stomach can’t handle another coaster.” Steve protests. “Especially not after this ice cream. Do you want me to blow chunks all over the both of you?”

“But the coasters give us the best breeze!”

“Darling… Steve isn’t gonna wanna be our supervision chaperone if we make him sick every time.” Steve’s mouth is now filled with ice cream, but he shakes his head vehemently. “Fank ooo!”

“Fine!” Bucky contemplates for a bit; scanning around the park for a solution. “Let’s do the love boats! It’ll be cooler in the tunnels on the water. Plus, the bench seat is wide enough for all three of us if we don’t mind getting cozy.”

The three of you demolish your cold treats and head over to the love boats. The line is long, but it gives you a chance to tease your boys. It felt so nice having them both back in your life. You wondered how you’d coped without them.

You’ve made it to the head of the line when your least favorite nasally voice screams.

“Nope! Bold of you to show your face here, Barnes.” Edward Rooney is wearing a smug smirk as he prevents the three of you from stepping onto one of the swan shaped boats. “You managed to bring Rogers and your tramp along with you.”

“Eddie, sweetheart.” You say sweetly, cutting off the surely livid replies of both Bucky and Steve. “It’s far too hot to argue. The three of us just wanna be on a cool ride. Steve is our chaperone and I promise we’ll be on our best behavior.”

His eyes narrow as he contemplates what you could be up to. The other ride goers behind you are getting antsy as the line is held up. You plaster on your most innocent face hoping to sway him the final bit.

“Fine, I guess I trust Rogers. But if I see any funny business, I will take so much pleasure in-”

“Yeah yeah we get it. You’ll pop a stiffy if you get to throw me out of the park.” Bucky says as he’s already stepping onto the boat. You and Steve follow quickly, jumping into the craft next to Bucky before the safety bar is pressed into your lap.

**************************************************************************************************

Turns out Bucky may have been onto something. The love boat ride utilized a mixture of the Coney Island Creek and ocean to travel through the park. The air on the water was much cooler than everywhere else. The tunnels were the best with their protection from the sun. The ride was the longest in the park running from west side of the main park all the way further east near Brighton Beach.

All of you had gone silent. It was enough to enjoy the breeze and gentle lapping of the water as the boat moved through it. With the bar across your hips, you couldn’t maneuver much but you’d managed to angle and lay against Bucky’s chest. His fingers run up and down your arm. It isn’t long before his lips were against the sweet spot on your neck behind your ear.

“I thought you said you were gonna behave, James.”

“Don’t know the meaning of that phrase, doll.” He continues to kiss gently on your neck, fingers wandering across your breasts.

“Buck… Stevie’s here.”

“Yeah, Stevie is here.” Steve interjects, broken out of his revere now aware of Bucky’s intentions. Steve has heard the sounds coming from your guy’s room in the night (and day). He’s walked in on you both more than once covered solely with his mother’s quilt on the couch. It wasn’t something he was a stranger to in the slightest.

“Y/N likes that Stevie is here.” Bucky’s voice is now low with desire. His hands palm and push your breasts. “I used to think she liked the thrill of being caught… but now I know my girl has a little crush on my best friend. Isn’t that right darlin?”

You hesitate a half beat too long. Bucky chuckles before kissing you on the temple. “I knew it.”

Steve’s eyes no longer are staring off into the distance filled with daydreams. One of his recurring ones is now playing out right before his eyes. His gaze flits back and forth between your blushing face and Bucky’s. This must be some trick. You’re Bucky’s girl; always have been all the way back to elementary school. He knew you were off limits. Besides, if Bucky was your type there was no way you’d go for a skinny twig like him. He assumed Bucky was pulling his leg.

“Buck, this is a cruel joke.”

“No joke, Stevie. I can feel how fast her pulse is right now. She’s turned on.” Steve’s eyes lock with yours. “She’s probably got her panties soaked.”

You’re leaned back fully in Bucky’s embrace. Between words, he’s still peppering feather light kisses to your neck. You can feel his erection forming against the small of your back. He liked this! He wasn’t mad at your crush on Steve. He wanted this as much as you did.

On the next squeeze of your breasts Bucky pulls the top of your dress down to let them spill over the cups. Steve expects the joke to be over now and for you to rush to cover yourself; angry Bucky has taken it too far. What he hears is far more interesting. At the sight of Steve’s eyes on your now exposed breasts you press back into Bucky’s chest and let out a throaty moan.

“Told you she wants you, Stevie.”

Steve’s still frozen on his side of the bench seat. He’s afraid if he moves or says the wrong thing all this before him will disappear.

“Wanna see how many times I can make her cum the rest of the ride? You’ll have a front row seat.”

“If Rooney catches you Buck, we’re all banned.” Steve looks towards your face still expecting you to change your mind. “Buck, come on. You’re taking this too far.”

“First of all, you can never go too far! Second of all, if I’m going to be caught, it’s not gonna be by a guy like that!”

Perhaps appealing to you would work. “Y/N, you can’t be serious with this?”

“If you don’t want this, Steve, we’ll stop right here right now; but you’re not going to hear me complaining.” You eye him coyly while your thumb makes small circles on the back of his hand.

He meets your eyes double checking for a lie and finds none. You raise his hand and kiss it not wanting to push him too far too fast.

Bucky has other plans. His hand hikes up your skirt enough to get his hand under but still keep you from being exposed. He can feel the damp patch that’s formed on your panties and it makes him swell more in his pants. He loved how you managed to be demure with this rampant filthy streak. He slides his middle finger inside you easily and sets out to see what sounds he can pull from you.

Your breath hitches from Bucky intruding into you and Steve almost pulls his hand away. You anchor it gently to your cheek. “You can kiss her, Steve.”

You moan gently from Bucky’s offer. “Please kiss me, Stevie.”

Collecting the courage, he slides closer to you on the bench seat and leans in to place a gentle peck against your lips. His lips feel different than Bucky’s; softer somehow and more hesitant to be sure. You caress the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck pulling him deeper into a kiss. Bucky ruts against your back with his erection clearly enjoying the view of his best friend locked in a sensual kiss with his girl.

“You’re turning her on even more, Steve. I can feel her fluttering on my fingers.” Bucky moans into your neck as he nips and kisses your contours; fingers still pumping into your wetness.

Steve comes up for air and assesses you. You’re still leaned back to Bucky’s chest. Your hips move in a stuttering rhythm no doubt along with the pace his fingers have set. Your hand now rests on Steve’s upper thigh clenching it looking for something to anchor you.

Bucky stares at his best friends face with a grin. “You did that to her Stevie. Got us both so hot and bothered.”

Surging with confidence, Steve surprises you and Bucky both and lunges forward to plant a bruising kiss to his best friend’s lips. The sight of your two favorite people kissing passionately was enough to send you over the edge in your first orgasm.

“Boys, that’s so hot.” You manage to pant coming down from your high but feeling ready for another. Bucky and Steve are fully going at one another at this point. Each of them has a palm on one of your breasts and Bucky’s still managing to rub small circles on your overstimulated core.

Your boyfriend’s cock rubs freely up and down your ass as hard and deep as the safety bar will allow him to move. Steve’s hand joins Bucky’s under your skirt, you suck deep kisses onto Bucky’s neck. It’s a contorted tangle of limbs and mouths and you’re nearing another release. Bucky moans deep and sultry into Steve’s mouth and that’s what does you in; your orgasm rips through you fast as lighting. All three of you pause as if coming to.

Between gasps of air you manage, “Buck…”

“Yes, darling.”

“Why does my ass feel warm?” Steve looks at you with a smirk knowing what you’re getting at, but Bucky feigns innocence. “You came!?”

“Maybe I did! What of it?”

“I’m not complaining, love. You and Stevie are so sexy together. I don’t think I’ve ever cum that hard.” You lean back and brush your lips against Bucky’s. “Stevie! You didn’t get to finish!”

Steve doesn’t seem the least bit phased by your words. In fact, it would appear he’s completely ignoring you both. His petite frame is slouched nearly all the way down in the seat as he slips underneath the safety bar of the boat.

“What are ya doin’, punk?”

“Buck, remember when you told me about how hard Y/N comes when you lick her?” You glare briefly at your boyfriend not adoring he’s shared bits of your sex life outside the bedroom.

“Ya I remember.”

“I wanna see if you’re right.” Steve’s managed to wedge his frame in front of you, straddled by both of your knees.

“Steve, darling. You’re the only one of us who didn’t finish.” Before you can mount additional protests, he kisses your lips again.

“We can save that for when we get home. After all, Buck told me I’d have a front row seat to seeing how many times you can cum. What’s more front row than this?”

With a flourish he flips your skirts up and dives beneath them. You look at Bucky for some guidance in this situation. He simply shrugs knowing there’s no talking Steve out of something once his mind is set. You look at your surroundings frantically hoping maybe if you were near the ride end it would deter the blonde.

You do in fact recognize you’ve re-entered the amusement park, but the ride still has a few minutes left just as Steve’s tongue makes its first pass against your core. Vibrations from Steve’s moan from your taste have you jolted once again with pleasure. Your legs close around his head drawing him further into you.

“Hold her legs, Buck!” a muffled demand comes.

Bucky looks like he won the lottery. His large palms rest against your knees on top of your dress prying them apart to allow Steve better access. Your blissed-out face has him worked up once more and he dives in to taste your lips.

To any onlooker, you and Bucky would look like a vocal couple necking on the love boat ride; a couple with poor posture. Steve was completely concealed by the boat and your large skirts. Steve manages to draw not one but two more orgasms from you.

“Stevie, use your fingers and your tongue at the same time. That’s her favorite.”

“Boys, really- I can’t take anymore-”

You hear them both chuckle before Steve’s more slender artist's fingers pump into your core. You manage to open your eyes and check your surroundings as Bucky has moved to kissing the crook of your neck.

“Fuck!”

“That’s right baby, let Stevie make you feel good.”

“No Bucky… LOOK!”

Bucky’s eyes go wide seeing the boat approaching the platform to get off. Gathered around the exit is an assortment of security guards, Rooney, and the park manager from before. Looks like Rooney didn’t trust Bucky to behave; which you suppose was deserved.

“Steve!” Bucky whisper yells, nudging him not so gently with his foot.

“Ass!”

“Get your ass up here. But make it look like you dropped something.”

“Bucky… he’s still… “Your head drops onto Bucky’s shoulder as a Steve’s fingers caress your g-spot. His tongue works perfect pressure right on your clit. You can’t hold it in any longer. Biting on Bucky’s shoulder helps muffle the moans as your release hits you in full force. The boat pulls up to the docks right next to a snide Edward Rooney.

“Well Buck-O. Looks like you managed to control your perverted urges just this once.” Rooney looks around the boat; eyebrows scrunched together as if searching for something he could ding you on.

“Holy shit, Buck. You weren’t kidding about the fingers and tongue combo!” Steve has chosen this moment to flip your skirts up and shuffle back out into the sunlight. His hair is a sweat matted mess, glued to his forehead and scalp. The flush of his cheeks is a deep crimson.

“Thanks for looking for my ear ring-”

Steve wipes his hand across his mouth. “No wonder you’re always on her, Buck. That cunt tastes so damn sweet.”

You drop your face into your hands. All deniability of Steve’s actions flew out the window. You’re waiting for Rooney to snap.

His face is stunned. It’s as if he’s seen a ghost. The safety bar of the ride raises and you’re all able to disembark the ship. You have thoughts of making a run for it but think better. You’re an adult and you’re responsible for your actions. Rooney’s ceased babbling to form a coherent word.

“Rogers?!”

You stifle a giggle. Poor timing on your part but you could understand Rooney’s shock. The manager feels the need to but in.

“I think you all know what’s gonna happen next. Do I need security to escort you out?”

“We’ll be going now!” Bucky grabs both of his two trouble makers by the arm. “Guys, I’ve never been that fucking reckless.”

“Who do you think taught me, punk!?” Steve retorts. You’re giggling once more as Bucky drags you both out of the park. You can’t help but think of what the rest of the summer could hold for the three of you.

“Steve Rogers you’re my hero!”

[thotantics]

Help, there's this cute dirty blonde sitting on the computer left opposite of me, and she has the brightest bluest eyes I've ever seen and she's so cute when she is concentrating and my bisexual ass can't focus on my thesis ever since I looked up to see who replaced the handsome guy that was sitting there before he up and left 😱😔😭

AJSHS I JUST SAW THIS IS SHE STILL THERE OMFG SMILE AT HER????? SAY HI?? 😳 idk how to introduce myself to people like the girl i like im sure has ZERO IDEA i like her 😪

[nova-of-avalonia]

Title: TMI Pairing: Destiel Rating: Explicit Tag: Sick Dean, oversharing, Sam puts up with a lot, Summary: Dean is sick and Sam’s the only one around to nurse him back to health. He finds out in the worst way Dean tends to overshare when he’s sick.

________________________________

Sammy was enjoying this, Dean could tell. The asshole was actually laughing at him. And hey it wasn’t his fault he had a personal angel, Cas wouldn’t leave. Not that Dean wanted him too, the guy gave great head and could instantly heal them when they got hurt on a hunt.

Best. Boyfriend. Ever.

Not that that was the reason Dean kept him around of course. Cas was awesome. He really loved Cas. A lot. Cas had sex hair, and the brightest bluest eyes and his wings were so bad ass and-

“Why’re you laughin a’ me, bitch,” Dean grumbled throwing a wad of tissues at his little brother.

“Ew! Dude gross!” Sam jumped back to avoid being hit with snot rags, but even then was still laughing. “Seriously man, how much cold medication did you take? You know that stuff has alcohol in it right? I think you’re drunk.”

“M not.” He wasn’t. Cas was just beautiful. Beautiful eyes. Beautiful wings. Just all around beautiful. Wasn’t his fault his angel was awesome and badass and beautiful and gave great head.

“Dude you were waxing poetic about Cas like two seconds ago and talking about how he gives great head, which I didn’t need to know, by the way. You’re drunk.” And the bitch was STILL laughing at him. Sammy was the worst, Dean was fully convinced, but then Sam gave him another popsicle and he decided his little brother was maybe only half the worst. “I have noodle soup on the stove, you eat those and I’ll be back in a few minutes.” With that, Sam was out the door to do whatever it was he kept babbling about. Dean wasn’t paying attention. He was too busy eating green popsicles and thinking about getting his hands on Cas’s wings.

KEEP READING

[dmsilvisart]

Stepping into the writing realm

Ok, so this is my first fic ever.  I owe my soul @emani-writes for being the beta for this  :)  

Written for @splendidcas birthday fic challenge with the prompt “I Dare You” Happy Birthday Shannon

“I Dare You”

Castiel x Reader

Fluff

Your apartment isn't a tiny thing but it’s also not huge. It’s comfortable for you and maybe one other person. Which is why you are shut in your own bathroom, tonight, on your birthday, because there are whay? Twenty? Twenty three people or more? All squeezed into your apartment. They’re all people you grew up with, or friends from college, or co-workers.

 This was not the plan.

 Dean, your best friend, was just suppose to bring Sam and Cas over with some beer and pizza. It was going to be a nice quiet night with your boys. You’ve known Sam and Dean since you were 5. Sam and Dean have always been very protective older brother types and Sam gave the absolute best hugs. There were days where a hug from Sammy made everything better.

 Then there was the new boy, Castiel Novak.  His family had always lived in your town, but it wasn’t until the start of middle school, when Castiel’s father lost his job, that their family moved to public school. The youngest boy, Castiel, stole your heart and you never looked back. He came into your life as Sam’s languages tutor as a way to make some extra cash. They became friends and were nerdy together and hung out regularly.  He also got along famously with Dean. So he became part of the circle and it had been that way through middle school, high school,and now college. You always had each other's backs, you teased each other, sure you argued but you made up, your families knew each other. You were each other's cheerleaders at any events and there with comfort foods and movies when one of you needed it.

 And maybe tonight, on your birthday, you may have had plans to talk to Cas. You may have already told Dean you were going to tell Cas how you felt, plans which Dean enthusiastically supported. You MAY have even bought something sexy in case things ended up going how you hoped they would.

 Except now you are convinced that Dean is an asshole. When your doorbell rings at 6PM, you are greeted with an endless stream of guests, each person carrying food, gifts, balloons, or drinks.

 NO. This was not the plan.

 There’s a knock at the bathroom door. “Y/N, you okay?” it was Dean.  “I’m coming in” he announces and without even waiting the door opens. Why didn’t you bolt it? Not that it would have mattered. Dean knows that if you jiggled the knob enough the door opens. The lock is complete shit. He shuts the door and leans his hip against the sink, looking down at you sitting on the toilet lid with your face in your hands.

 “Sweetheart, I am so sorry.” His voice doesn’t hold any sarcasm, but there’s amusement there.

 You glare at him and he holds his hands up in surrender. “Look, Y/N  We had this surprise party planned before you ever told me about talking to Cas,okay? What was I supposed to do? You only told me your intentions two days ago!”

 You can feel him watching you for a response. He gets nothing. Frustrated, he sighs, “Okay, look. Everyone is out there setting up YOUR party.” he growls.  “Friends, co-workers” His voice trails off to an almost whimper “Friends of friends”

 You throw your arm out hitting his stomach with the back of your hand. He chuckles and shrugs. Things go silent again and you find your face back in your hands.

 You think you hear Dean growl “Seriously Y/N? Put on a happy face and get your ass out there! I’ll make sure Cas stays later tonight to help clean up and you guys can talk.” You don’t realize that Dean has leaned down, close to your ear until your feel his breath. He huffs out a small laugh and says, “Besides he says he has a kick ass gift for you but doesn’t want to give it to you in front of everyone.”

 Your head shoots up so fast you feel momentarily dizzy. The smile Dean gives you is blinding.

 Chuckling, Dean waggles his finger like a mother hen. “Alright! Five minutes. But you better be out there, or I’m sending Sammy in with the puppy dog eyes.” Then Dean is gone, shutting the door behind him.

 You take deep breaths, and focus on all the things you love about Cas. How you can sit and talk about anything at all day or night. How calm he is when shit goes flying and always seems to steadily resolve any issue like damage control is second nature to him. How his clothes and hair are always rumpled or downright unruly. How intense he is about causes that mean something to him. How scary hot he is when defending a friend. How he smells like rain and cinnamon and his eyes!  The man has the bluest blue to ever blue eyes that you’ve ever seen.

 You’re just beginning to calm when the bathroom door opens again and Charlie, your best girlfriend, lets herself in. Does anyone care that you could be naked in here, or actually USING the facilities?

 She greets you with the biggest, brightest smile. “Hey! Happy birthday, bitch!” she says cheerfully.

 “Don’t you even knock,” you grouse.

 Charlie waves you off. “Sam was gonna come in but I vetoed that!”  Her eyes widen with excitement. Charlie beams and  hurries to sit down near you on the tub edge, babbling so quickly you can only pick out certain words.

 “So I heard Dean talking to Cas something about giving you a present and IF he really wanted to make the day great he should just tell you how he REALLY FEELS!” She ends her rambling with a large, deep breath in and out.

 All you seem able to do is stutter. “Cas? Really feels? What? Does he? What?”

 Charlie’s smile grows impossibly large and she nods her head so fast her red curls bounce frantically. “Oh c’mon, it’s obvious you two are hot for each other. Hell, it probably goes deeper than just sexual attraction but-“

 You cut her off. “You think he feels the same?”

 She just rolls her eyes. You had hoped Cas would feel the same. But even with Dean, Sam, Charlie, and even Meg telling you that he’s crushing on you, you hadn’t truly believed it.

 Without any warning, Charlie grabs you by the arm and pulls you up and out the door before you can protest. Once in the  hallway you contemplate chickening out and heading straight for your bedroom, but Charlie keeps a hand on you. You tentatively walk to the end of the hall and peek out into the main space.

 Your miniscule kitchen is to your left and you notice Benny, Andrea, and Gabe, one of Cas’ many older brothers, setting up food.Charlie ignored them in favor of joining her girlfriend, Dorothy,at your small dining table just beyond the kitchen and behind the second hand living room suite Cas’ parents had given you.. Jo and Victor smiled at Charlie as she plopped onto Dorothy's lap like it was nothing!

 In the far corner of the living room beside the entertainment center, Sam signs to Eileen, though it seems difficult with Jess hanging off his arm. Eileen just laughs and signs back. The sectional is taken up by your co-workers, Caesar, Jesse, Bella, Ruby, Lisa, and Cassie, all in various stages of conversation. Balthazar, and Cas’ sisters Hannah, and Hael have managed to out the beer pong supplies and are setting up in the cramped area in front of the entertainment center. Michael, Luc, the two eldest Novak’s, are also hanging around with three old classmates, Kevin, Billie, and Fergus who has his arm around Billie’s waist (that’s new). They seem to be watching the beverage table with interest where Dean is stood with Meg and Cas, whose back is toward you.

 Cas doesn’t notice you, but Meg sure does. She’s been Cas’s casual on again, off again friend-with-benefits for years, though they’re currently off. Meg shoots you a smirk and then looks back to Cas, crossing her arms and giving an annoyed huff. Her trademark smirk is positively evil as she rolls her eyes.

 “Jesus, Clarence. Man up already. How many times have I had to listen to you piss and moan about your feelings for her?” Meg’s voice is just loud enough that you heard, and you swallow.. You can just make out Cas’ low, annoyed tone.

 “I will. It’s just not the right time with all these people here.”

 You can’t hear, but Dean’s response looks angry, his hands waving as he talked. That’s when you heard it.

 “I DARE YOU!” Dean shouted, obviously frustrated. You see Cas and Dean arguing, Dean’s voice steadily rising.

 “You are such a chicken shit! If there’s no better time than now, then when?”

 Cas gestures quickly to quiet Dean and they bicker angrily in subdued tones.

 Glancing toward the kitchen, you notice Gabe pausing at his task of plating the cake. He’s watching the conversation with equal parts interest and annoyance, though he does waggle his brows at you when he sees you watching.

“There’s the birthday girl!” he calls loudly, Dean turns toward you with a smile and Cas’s posture visibly tenses but he doesn’t turn your way, instead he downs his drink in one swallow. Gabe throws his arms out and loudly proclaims “Let's get this show on the road!”

 Glancing around, you notice Benny and Andrea have moved to the area around the entertainment center where Bess laughs at Garth’s failed attempts to hook up his iPod to your stereo. Kevin moves to help him.

 You plaster on your best smile and walk up to greet Gabe. He smiles, gives you a hug, and whispers in your ear.

 “Happy Birthday Y/N. Cas chose the menu but I baked it all and I expect credit where credit is due. I take cash, credit card, or kisses.”

 You playfully smack him on the shoulder. Gabriel was a hopeless flirt, almost as bad as his cousin, Balthazar. Moving out of the kitchen, Gabe claps to get everyones attention, and raises his arms like he’s conducting an orchestra.

 “Everyone ready? Haaaaapy Biiirthday to you! Haaaaapy BIIIIIIIIRTHDAY TO YOU-“

 “STOW IT, GABE!” Dean interrupts before taking a long drink of what is no doubt whiskey. His voice is rough as he turns to the gathered crowd, swagger in full effect.

 Dean glances your way and winks before facing the crowd fully. “It’s dare time!,” he yells, turning to point at Cas. “And I dare Cas to feed Y/N her birthday cake.”

 Cas’s eyes go wide and his skin pales. Luc smirks, bemused,while several others gasp or even chuckle.

 You’re frozen to the spot behind the island, not able to fully meet the eyes staring back at you. Instead you eye the plates of cake laid out in front of you. It’s vanilla with a thick layer of whipped icing and fresh strawberries. It’s perfect. Of course Cas knew the perfect cake. Looking up,  you lock eyes with Cas, watching wearily as Sam approaches him. Sam shoots you a smile and then leans down and whispers something in Cas’s ear, clapping him hard on the back. Something changes in Cas’s expression. His once terrified expression morphs into determination.

 Out of the corner of your eye you see Charlie stand up with her phone at the ready. Of course she’ll video this.

 Cas strides determinedly to your side, staring down at the amassed plates. Not looking at you, he whispers, “Happy birthday, Y/N Pick your poison.” You pick up a plate shaking so much that Cas puts his hand over yours. He relieves you ofthe plate and a fork before turning toward you.

 “Uh… You won’t see a present from me. What I had planned can’t be wrapped.” Cas is obviously trying to whisper but the apartment is suddenly so quiet it’s likely everyone can hear him. “I just wanted you know. For later.”

 You nod despite having trouble hearing over your pounding heart ringing in your ears.

 Cas clears his throat then and stabs a bite of cake.

 “Okay,” he breathes, finally meeting your eyes and grinning. “Open up.”

 You oblige and the first bite of cake and strawberry hits your tongue and it’s bliss. You’re hardly aware of the small moan that escapes your throat but you certainly notice how Cas’s breath catches and his pupils dilate. You feel giddy and much more bold with that knowledge.

 Giggling, you scan the crowd and find Gabe. “Oh my god, Gabe. This cake is orgasmic!”

 He gives you a thumbs up. “I told you! I take payment in kisses, you can tip in tongue!”

 Everyone chuckles including you, but when you look at Cas, he’s sending Gabe a smiteful look. You bounce on your heels in front of him, determined to be a distraction. No smitings on your birthday.

 “Next bite please?” You ask innocently. Cas stares down at you, and offers up another forkful.

 Around you, conversations resume and with them some of the tension dispurses. So, of course, someone has to speak up. It’s Sam this time, the little shit.

 “Ya know Y/N, if that was wedding cake, you would be covered in it right now.” Sam chuckles at his own joke but Cas freezes, loaded fork halfway to your parted lips and he pulls back. Cocking an eyebrow, Cas’ determined stare turns predatory, and the bastard smirks. Anxious, you take a step back and he squints at you slightly, looking almost like Luc. You scan the crowd and Sam gives you an apologetic look. Some are looking on with mischievous glee, others are whispering with slight smiles, Charlie and now Kevin are both recording it all. Dean has a proud smile on his face and gives you a wink.

 Assholes. They're all assholes.

 Setting down the cake, Cas appears to have thought of something new. He looks over the crowd.

 “Why don’t you all help yourselves to some of Gabe’s-” he smirks and clears his throat “orgasmic cake?” Complete with air quotes, is he mocking you?

 And they do, helping themselves to cake and moving away to mingle over the truly delicious dessert.. After passing out the last piece, you turn back to Cas. He’s looking at you speculatively before dipping two fingers into the thick whipped cream rose in the corner of the leftover cake. Then he takes a slow step toward you.

 “You know, Y/N,” Cas says conversationally, all the while stepping threateningly toward you. “My original dare tonight was to tell you something.”

 For every tiny step Cas takes you take one back, well aware that there’s not much room before you backed into the counter and cabinets.

 You chuckle weakly. “And we know you can’t refuse a dare.” You eye him, curiosity warring with your apprehension.  “What, uh… What were you going to tell me?” The whisper leaves you before you can stop it.

 Cas looks a the icing rose on his fingers, then at you and gives a devilish smirk. “Oh, just that I should tell you how…” He squints at you as he takes another step. “How much I don’t want to be JUST friends anymore.”

 Your heart races This is happening!

 He’s less than an arm’s length away when your back hits the counter. Dizziness overwhelms you. How can this be happening? Shouldn’t it be like in movies? A build up? A misunderstanding? A climactic montage where the guy goes after the girl or vice versa?  

 “Y/N?”

 He stops and places his free hand on your waist drifitng right into your personal spaces. His voice is a whispered growl. “We’re so much more than friends.”

 Cas lifts his fingers to eye level and you think you’re going to get a face full of whipped icing and strawberry juice, but instead he places the icing in his mouth on that sinful tongue of his. You’ve had some sinfully bad fantasies about that tongue, or were they good? Doesn’t matter now as your brain proceeds to short circuit as his mouth covers yours. He tastes like vanilla and strawberry and whiskey and it’s wonderful.. Wonderfully him. Cas wastes no time, sweeping his tongue into your mouth and you melt instantly but he has you pressed so firmly against the counter that you’re not going anywhere.

 Your brain vaguely registers a few whoops from the crowd, a “finally”, or “about damn time!” But it’s all soon drowned out as the music starts and you hear Dean exclaim, “Fuck! About time! Okay! Nothing to see here. Everyone give them some privacy!”

 Conversations change quickly and everyone pointedly ignores the make out session going on in the kitchen. Your brain returns to the kiss and oh… the erection pressing against you.

 Later, you promise yourself.

 Cas’s hands are on your hips and he lifts you easily onto the counter before breaking the kiss. You both pant hard.

 “I’m sorry,” he croaks out. “I really should’ve asked permission before I did that.” He stares at you now, all smugness gone, and in it’s place is what you’ve affectionately dubbed his “kicked puppy” face.

 You simply laugh and hug your arms tightly around his neck, leaning in to whisper in his ear. “I swear to god, Cas, if you EVER apologize for kissing me again, I’ll key the Impala and tell Dean it was you.”

 His deep chuckle against your ear does all kinds of good things for you downstairs. “I was actually going to talk to you about these feelings later and uhm….” You slowly look at him. “I wanted… I wanted to show you just how ‘unfriend like’ I wanted to be.”

 Your face burns red. Another growl in your ear and his fingers tighten on your hips. He presses his forehead against yours for a long moment before slowly pulling away. Suddenly, you hear the party still going on in the background. You sigh.

 “We have a party to get back to,” you say, casting a glance over his shoulder and smirking. “I think Meg is propositioning Luc now that she’s lost you.”

 Cas frowns but concedes.  He graces you with a soft smile. “After everyone is gone, we can continue this.”

 He slides you off the counter, and walks backward a few steps to the cake. Picking up a strawberry, he carefully offers it to you. Stepping close, you let him slip it in your mouth. Your eyes never leave his as you wrap your lips around his finger,  intentionally sucking slow.  His flutter closed and he groans and shudders slightly.  Your grin could give Meg’s trademark smirk some competition as he tries to compose himself and not so quietly states, “I still have a gift to give you, remember?”

 You stand up on your toes, pressing your lips to the shell of his ear and whisper, “I dare you,” before swiftly skirting around him and rejoining your party.

[nicodiangelbaby]

Intoxicated By Your Eyes

Dan stood in a corner of the (gay) bar, clutching his drink with one hand while he looked around the room for someone he might find attractive. So far he’d had no such luck, everyone seemed to be either too drunk to carry out a conversation, or they were already with someone.

He decided to go through his phone for a while, while he finished his drink. “Hey there”, he heard someone say in a flirty voice behind him. “Why are you standing alone?” Dan turned around to see a black haired guy, a vodka bottle in his hand, already more than half empty. “Umm..I’m alone because there..i-isn’t anyone here my type..”, Dan said, stumbling over his words a little because holy shit this guy was cute. He had the bluest eyes ever, and Dan felt he would happily agree to drown in them. He wasn’t even that old like the other men around here, Dan guessed he was not more than a few years older than him. “How do you know that? Surely you haven’t talked to everyone here”, he said in a silky voice.“For all you know I might be your type”, the boy added, his eyes glittering mischievously and his black fringe getting into his eyes. Wait is he flirting with me? Dan thought, feeling butterflies in his stomach. He giggled slightly, leaning over Dan, causing him to blush profusely. “I’m Phil.”, the boy said. “And I really like your cute little ass”, he added, eyeing Dan in such a way, it made him turn completely red. “M-my name is Dan, and I’m pretty sure you’re very drunk right now, Phil.” Dan said, savouring the last word. Phil the name felt good to say out loud.

“Well what do you say I buy you a drink Dan?”, Phil said. He was flirty when he was sober, but when he was drunk, his flirty-ness was on a whole new level.

Once they’d gotten their drinks, Phil insisted they dance a bit because “why are you even here if you’re not going to dance?!” Dan reluctantly joined him, secretly enjoying Phil’s flirty glances and their “accidental touching”. “Ooh I love this!”,Dan exclaimed as a Kanye song came on. “Kanye? Seriously?”, Phil remarked, although the sarcasm didn’t seem that strong because he’d already started dancing to it. A Beyoncè song came on next and Phil, still drunk as shit, ended up showing Dan his moves - if doing the chicken dance can be called that. Dan started to loosen up a bit, realising he really did like this dorky guy. He was thinking about his blue-green eyes, that Dan could spend all eternity looking into, when he heard Phil say something to him. “What’d you say?”, he asked him loudly, so as to be heard over the music. “Do you think the first couple to have twins were freaked out, like do you think they went ‘we only ordered one’?!”, Phil asked loudly. “Phil you have no idea how much shit you’re talking right now.”, Dan laughed.

Dan had advised Phil not to drink anymore, but Phil had refused to take his advice seriously, saying he did not listen to guys that told him to stop drinking, no matter how hot they were. That made Dan shut right up and blush like a tomato.

Dan decided it was time to leave when Phil voiced his intention of announcing to the entire bar that he “used to be a twink” when he was 17. The idea made Dan laughed, but he wasn’t about to let Phil humiliate himself like that - even if he didn’t know him that well.

A little while later Phil was back to talking absolute nonsesnse in his drunk state.“Who do you think is more likely to survive the Apocalypse? Hermione or Batman?”, Phil asked Dan in a very serious tone. “You know what let’s get you out of here before you tell a bald guy his head looks like an egg or something.”, Dan giggled. “A bald guy’s head might look like an egg”, Phil thought aloud giggling like a four year old. Dan shushed him leading him out of the bar, but not before adding,“Of course Hermione would survive, she was the brightest witch of her age. Geez Phil!”.

“Listen, Phil, we’re going to my place if that’s okay with you. You’re in no condition to go home alone, I doubt you even remember your own address.”, Dan explained to the drunk boy, once they were outside the bar. “I’m just going to act like that’s the genuine reason you’re taking me to your house, although we both know there’s some ulterior motive involved.”, he whispered in Dans ear, winking at him unabashedly. “I’m going to act like you didn’t just say that to me.”, Dan said, feeling his cheeks grown hot.

They hailed a cab from outside the bar, Dan focusing on directing the driver to his building, while Phil continued to whisper flirty, and at times funny things in his ear. At one point Phil asked loudly, “When we reach your house Dan, will you let me squeeze your cute little ass”. This brought blood rushing to the cheeks of the brown haired boy, leaving him absolutely speechless, and earned them several dirty looks from the cab driver. ——————— The next morning Phil woke up in a bedroom he was pretty sure he’d never seen before. His head throbbed, making it hard for him to take in his surroundings. He saw a note on the side table that said, “have this” along with a smile face, pointing towards a cup of coffee and two painkillers. Once he’d finished drinking the coffee, Phil could feel his headache subside. By now he remembered where he was, he had gathered bits and pieces together from his sketchy memory of the previous night. He was at the house of someone he’d met the previous night at the bar - Dan.

He went downstairs looking for him, and found him in the kitchen, making two bowls of cereal. “Nice” Phil thought - cereal was his favourite thing to have for breakfast (or for anytime for that matter). “Good morning!”, Dan smiled, noticing Phil had woken up. “Did you sleep comfortably?”, he asked in a concerned tone. “Oh yes! I just have a headache, that’ll go away soon. And t-thank you for letting me sleep here last night.”, Phil replied, blushing slightly. “I wasn’t going to let you wander the streets of london that drunk, now was I?”, Dan laughed, a laugh so infectious it made Phil smile too. “I didn’t do anything stupid last night, did I?”, Phil asked, clearly embarrassed. Dan began to blush, remembering all the stupid and slightly (well,extremely) suggestive things Phil had said and done the previous night. “Well not much,”, he said finally, “although you did say a bald man’s head looked like an egg and you also did the chicken dance.” As Dan’s word registered in Phil’s mind, his face took on a horrified expression. Looking at his scared and embarrassed face Dan couldn’t help but laugh.

And then suddenly Dan stopped laughing, his face turned red and he said in a barely audible voice, “ you also told me I had a cute ass, and later, when we were coming back here, you asked me if I’d let you squeeze my cute little ass when we got home.”

Phil stood rooted to the spot, his cheeks turning the color of a beetroot. He looked as though he was waiting for the ground to swallow him up, to save him from this embarrassing situation.

“Hey don’t worry!”, Dan said, and then added with a smirk" I didn’t really mind you saying that you know.“

A cheeky smile spread on Phil’s face, one that made Dan want forget everything else and get lost in the blue-green eyes of the beautiful boy. “So now that I’m here”, Phil said, still smiling, “how about we grab a cup of coffee or something?” Dan could not have been happier to hear those words. “Phil,you literally just had coffee!”, Dan laughed, showing off his cute little dimples that made Phil want to kiss him until they couldn’t breathe. “Come on, you know what I mean”, Phil couldn’t help but smile.

“It’s a date!”, the brown haired boy said, seizing his opportunity to he bold. “It’s a date.”, Phil agreed, smirking cheekily. ————–

This is something I wrote about a month back (and I’ve clearly not improved at writitng). Feel free to reblog/repost/like/comment/follow if you want🌼 I have exams in a month so I’ll post a fic this week and then I might be inactive for a while Feel free to send in prompts or ideas 🌸

[immovable-force-archive]

@valorandheart​ has run into the Ravager

It was high noon when the Ravager climbed up to the tippy-top of the highest hill he had seen in the area. Or that he'd ever seen! On the greenest grass he'd ever seen, below the brightest and bluest sky! ... This was the first he was seeing of all those things, but fuck it, this is such a beautiful place that it's worth the compliments! This must be the human world! He'd been told how unfathomably gorgeous and bright it was, but it was nothing compared to seeing it in person.

He'd practically sprinted up the grassy hill, finding himself panting as he overlooked a human town below. Did he know where he was? Of course not! Who cares!? He could smell all the humans down there, and couldn't wait to see a live human for the first time! Did they look any different? Act different? He had to know! Bursting into a sprint again, the devil ran down the hill towards the village.

At least, until he stubbed his toe on a rock and wound up tumbling the rest of the way instead.

"GAK-GWUF-GRK-ACK-GAH-GUFF-FFWA--!!"

It took several minutes before the devil finally rolled to a stop, covered in dirt and grass stains. Ugggghhh... Hahahaaaa, even getting hurt feels better on the human world~! Where the hell is he now...? There's a house nearby... and a fence with a big-ass hole in it. Oh dear, did he do that?

Unbeknownst to Kew, he’d just smashed his way into the backyard of a certain shy teenager...