#I had two other degrees so it was fine but yeah that's my bad

[sadquickchristmassnowman]

Please please please post your Jeff Winger analysis that you wrote for your college class

fine. here it is.

for those of you that don't know, this my final paper for my abnormal psychology class I took last spring (at a community college lmao, I have since graduated and am now in university studying something completely different.) the instructions were to play therapist and write a case study on one of your hypothetical clients. we were supposed to make up a person and diagnose them with something. naturally, instead of making someone up, I chose a sitcom character to dive into. I somehow got 100%. read if you so desire, it's about 1600 words.

A COUPLE (sad) QUICK (christmas) DISCLAIMERS

I wrote this in literally an hour! it's Very Rough! that's not me being humble! that is an objective fact! please just accept right now that the grammar and syntax are sloppy as hell that's just How It Is

I changed Jeff's name to something stupid, I don’t even know what it was, just so I’d have less chance of being caught lmao

I stretched some canonical truths and made some shit up that doesn't necessarily apply to Jeff. I did this because the paper was due at 11:59 and I needed to make a compelling argument quickly. so I somewhat warped Jeff to be what I needed for the paper. it's still mostly canon compliant but just beware and don't come after me for any inaccuracies okay I did it on purpose

[giuseppe-yuki]

ice water

oscar piastri x duck shapeshifter!reader

w.c.: 1.2k

warnings: a singular curse word- other that that, none

part of my shapeshifting!reader series

summary: mclaren hospitality somehow runs out of cold water; you have to get creative.

picture credits from pinterest :)

the weather at the miami circuit was, simply, hot as fuck. as soon as you climbed out of the oscar’s mclaren, clutching your miu miu handbag, you felt a wave of hot and humid florida air wash over you. oscar, ever the gentleman, clocks your discomfort immediately and leads you toward the paddock entrance. keeping one hand on your back protectively, he scans his badge and guides you towards mclaren hospitality.

being able to shapeshift into a duck at will definitely had its perks, but that also meant you gained some of the more negative aspects too. because ducks didn’t have sweat glands, you overheated really easily in extreme heat. 

“oscar!!” “over here!” “please sign my hat!!!”

before you and oscar could reach the motorhome, a crowd of fans spotted the mclaren driver. they surge forward, pens at the ready and cameras turned on. he turns, apologies at the tip of his tongue and mind running fast to think of a quick excuse so he doesn’t need to stay outside a second longer. before he can say anything, you turn to him.

“its okay baby, you can sign their hats and do whatever you need to- i can find some water by myself!" you smile at him reassuringly, then give him a peck on the cheek. those fans probably paid an insane amount of money in order to access the paddock, and it wasn’t every day you saw the insanely talented mclaren driver, oscar piastri, strolling around. to be honest, it still shocked you sometimes, having the privilege to wake up to his adorable sleepy face in the morning. (even though he does get mad at you for leaving your feathers everywhere on the bed)

“alright.” oscar says hesitantly. he then smiles that polite cat smile that he always does, wraps his arms around you, and gives you a kiss on the top of your head. “don’t get lost!” he quips, before he reaches toward a fan’s open sharpie. 

you roll your eyes and head into the team motorhome. 

as you step inside, you immediately bump violently into lando. its actually a wonder that you didn’t notice him, as he is dressed in his bright papaya hoodie and obnoxiously neon yellow bucket hat with his signature black patterns. he looks irritated, although his annoyed look immediately disappears once he notices it’s you. 

“oops- sorry,” you splutter out, “you okay?” 

“yeah i’m fine,” he says, flashing you a smile. the annoyed expression comes back though, and he adds, “except for the fact that its fucking 40 degrees celcius outside and there is not a single drop of cold water in this entire building!” 

“oh!” you exclaim. “that’s actually why i came in here- i really need water because of my…condition.” lando was one of the few people that actually knew of your ability to shapeshift (it involved a long story involving an animal trafficking accusation, bad timing, and a ton of feathers that you had shed), and he often helped cover for you and oscar when people got a little too close to discovering your secret.

a frown crosses lando’s face, but it is soon replaced by a devilish smirk. “why don’t we go over to the red bull motorhome to ask for some water?” he suggests.

“dressed like this?” you exclaim, gesturing at both your orange colored two-piece dress and lando’s brightly colored outfit. “mark my words, if you take a single step in that direction, skysports is going to notice, and is going to have ‘mclaren driver lando norris sneaks into red bull motorhome to steal important strategy documents’ pasted on every headline online!”

“umm…first of all,” lando says haughtily, “i can win a race by myself without needing to steal any red bull documents. second of all, i’m not going into redbull, you are…” he leans forward, and whispers, “...in duck form.”

you glare at him.

as if sensing a problem, oscar appears behind you. “what’s going on?” he questions, running a hand through his hair and wipes a little bit of sweat off of his reddened face. he turns to you for a response, but you’ve slotted yourself behind his back, using him as a barrier from lando. 

“your dumb teammate wants me to turn so i can go over to redbull and beg for water since mclaren ran out of ice water!” you exclaim. "can you believe it?"

20 dollars, persistent begging, and ten minutes later, you left the mclaren motorhome in duck form in oscar’s arms. the fans from earlier, with their newly signed merch and camera roll full of pictures of your boyfriend, again, rush towards oscar. instead of their attention being on him this time though, they all fawn over you, not even asking why in the world oscar jack piastri is holding a duck in front of the mclaren motorhome before the miami gp. you ruffle your feathers and snap your beak at the fans, playing it up and hoping they give you water. you stop to pant a little bit- the heat was really getting to you. luckily, a fan notices, and pushes forward with a cup of ice water.

“oscar, may i give your duck some ice water? i’ve seen clips on tiktok where this lady feeds her duck ice water and she seemed to really like it! your duck is looking mighty parched too.” 

oscar quickly nods his head. “go ahead!”

you dip your beak into the water, and snap up as much water as you could. the water tasted crisp and refreshing, and felt oh-so-good going down your throat, cooling down your internal body temperature. 

oscar thanks the fan, then excuses himself from the horde of people. “erm…i’m kind of have to go-” he gestures vaguely towards the redbull motorhome, “ that way… so er yeah, bye!” 

you got your sip of water, so it was time to steal get some for oscar and lando. you hop out of oscar’s arms, flapping your wings as you land gently on the ground. waddling, you enter the redbull hospitality. Immediately, you almost collide a second time with someone. lo and behold, it was none other than checo perez.

“why,” he says pointedly, “is there a duck in here?” 

not stopping to apologize, you run towards the fridge, quacking wildly and tapping your beak against the smooth metal. 

as if he understood you perfectly, he opens the door to the fridge, and pulls out a water bottle. he poors the water into a plastic cup and puts it on the floor in front of you. he gives you a few pats on your back (oscar probably would have strangled checo if he saw him touching you, albeit in duck form) and walks away. quickly, you grab the cup and hop/waddle your way back outside to oscar and lando, handing them the water.

the team garages bustled with energy, as there was around an hour left until the start of the miami grand prix. everyone seemed to have a job- adjusting cameras, typing on computers, and pulling on race suits- except you. slowly, you walk out of the mclaren garage onto the pavement  in front, straightening your orange skirt and top and smoothing down your hair. out of the corner of your eye, you see checo heading your way. you turn a little pale from fear- why was he coming your way? he waves to you, and starts some small talk. 

“hey you know, funny story- you’ll never believe me, but there was a duck in the red bull motorhome earlier today!”

a/n: my first ever fanfic story! i hope y'all liked it :)

[livwritesstuff]

Eddie is holed up in the office of his and Steve’s home working on some writing when he notices an odd kind of commotion coming from upstairs.

Now, he and Steve have three daughters under the age of ten, so commotion is pretty much a baseline for them, but it’s odd because it sounds like Steve might actually be involved this time, and that makes it especially weird because Eddie was pretty sure that Steve was taking the kids to see a movie to give Eddie a few hours to maybe hit that word count goal (he probably won't, but whatever).

It's just about odd enough for Eddie to go investigate further and, indeed, he finds a very much ticked-off Steve standing outside of their middle daughter Robbie’s closed bedroom door.

“What the hell is going on?” Eddie asks.

Steve rounds on him. 

“She’s driving me insane,” Steve says, “That kid is you in a seven-year-old’s body, and I’m going insane.”

“Wait, can you…” Ed shook his head, “What’s happening?”

“I thought it would be fun to take the girls to that new Nanny McPhee movie because they liked the first one, right?” he starts

“Sure.”

“The second – the second – I suggested it, Robbie starts ranting and raving. Ed, do you know what she said to me? 

“Oh god,” Eddie said warily, “What’d she say?”

“She said sequels aren’t passion projects, Papa. They’re just for money. Who the fuck do you think she learned that one from, Ed?”

And yeah, shit, that might be Eddie’s bad.

“Whatever,” Steve says before Eddie has a chance to respond, “So she doesn’t wanna go – that’s fine – but, shocker, the other two still want to go, and just as we’re walking out the door, Robbie demands that we wait for her because she actually does want to come and now,” Steve pauses to hold in a laugh as Robbie scutters out of her room in the direction of the bathroom, one shoe on and an earring half-in, “Now we’re gonna be so fuckin’ late because this one can’t just throw on a sweatshirt and get in the car.”

Eddie knows for a fact that Robbie had spent the entire weekend in the same pajamas she’d worn to bed on Friday night, but now she’s donned a denim dress with a red t-shirt and black tights underneath. She’s got black combat boots on her feet (just one at the moment, actually), and she’s wearing the leather jacket Eddie had found at a thrift shop in New York to complete the ensemble.

“Look at this kid,” Steve says, following Robbie into the bathroom and watching as she tried to fix her earring with one hand and her hair with the other, “Robbie, it’s August. It’s almost ninety degrees outside. Maybe think about ditching the leather.”

“I don’t care,” she fires back, “It’s about the look, Papa.”

“We’re going to a movie theater. It’ll be pitch black. Nobody will be looking at anything other than the movie. Let’s go.”

But Robbie is already pushing past him with a belligerent, “Outta my way. I gotta get another necklace.”

Steve manages to snag Robbie by the back of her jacket and swing her up into his arms.

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” he says as Robbie furiously tries to squirm out of his grip to no avail, “Oh, I’m Robbie and I’m four feet tall and I get up-in-arms about everything and I’m gonna wear a leather jacket in August even though I once got heat exhaustion at the mall and gave her dad a fuckin’ heart attack.”

Robbie is in giggling hysterics by the time Steve ends his onslaught of mockery and puts her down.

“What do you think?” Steve asks, “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” she says, and then she asks, “Can you help me find my other shoe?”

“And now she’s asking me for shit,” Steve comments in disbelief as Robbie ducks back into her room. He looks at Eddie, “Seriously, you need to call Wayne and apologize for everything you must have put him through.”

“Alright.”

[zyhkoo]

☆ we do together - jason todd x f!reader

fluff, vigilante reader, college au

you and jason work on your research paper

With patrol done, the two of you immediately slumped on the couch. Though you had your own patrol route, you loved to get in Jason’s patrol route. Not that he didn’t mind of course, he’d gladly let you patrol with him. Today’s patrol was crazy though, it definitely wore the two of you out.

Not bothering to change into much comfortable clothes, you and Jason lazed on the couch. You were sitting down while he was on the far corner of the couch while his feet laid on your lap.

Your stomach grumbled, you forgot to eat your lunch a while ago because you were so busy with your college assignments.

You looked over at him “Jay..” you called out his name. Jason, whose eyes are closed while facing the ceiling, answered “Yeah?”

You sighed, “I’m hungry.. you promised to cook.” Jason slowly turns his face to you “Told you, you said you weren’t hungry while doing the assignment.” he scolded.

The two of you were in literature degrees, in the same class, same professors, and the same lectures. So any assignments, projects so on and so forth; Jason and you would always work together.

“I really wasn’t, I snacked too much.” you retorted “Can we just get takeout?” he asks while crossing his legs. You rolled your eyes and reached the phone to your pocket “Fine.”

You looked at the clock on your homescreen, 2:30 am. Then.. a sudden realization hit you. You tug on his jacket “Jason..” he looks at you with a lazy expression “Hm?”

You looked at him horrifyingly, he checked the clock then it hit him too.

“The research paper!”

You were quickly going through the food app while Jason scrambled to the laptop “Fuck we’re only halfway.” he curses, his hand moving to his forehead “At least it’s halfway…” you pointed out.

You look for sources while Jason reads and types out whatever is needed, if anyone walked in on both of you they’d be concerned to see two College students looking like zombies.

The pizza you ordered arrived, Jason opened the box and saw the toppings you disliked on the pizza “Thought you hated this?” he said, showing you the pizza.

She groaned “Ugh, I must’ve accidentally asked for it. Whatever, give me a slice I’m starving.”

Jason remembers waiting for the letters for both your college applications. You both graduated highschool together, and now this was the bigger deal. Jason was looking forward to being in college with you, especially in a degree you both absolutely were interested in.

He remembered you pacing on the manor waiting for the mail to come while Jason told you that it was going to be alright. You wanted to be in college with him too of course, you’ve known each other since forever and you want it to stay that way.

Damian knocked on Jason’s door with two letters on his hand “These are for you, Todd. Is she in there as well?” Jason took the letters from his small tiny hand “Yeah she is, thanks.” Jason says as he closes the door.

“Is this it?” you asked “Yep, here's yours.” the two of you read in silence, he was accepted. Jason looked at you, a small smile on his face. You were still reading the contents of the letter, focusing hard “So? What’d they say?”

You turned back to him with a bright smile “I'm in! You?” he returns the smile “Got accepted too.” you pulled him to a tight embrace “We’re starting college together oh my god I’m so happy.” she says.

He wanted to experience all the bad and good things in life with you. Because he loves you, your presence just makes him happy already. At first, he wasn’t sure if he was capable of loving, but with you it was enough.

Morning passed, Jason woke up on the table. A blanket was covering him and next to him was you, peacefully sleeping on the coffee table. He looked at your features and smiled, pressing a kiss on your forehead.

You stirred in your sleep “Jay?” he looks down “Yeah?” he answered your call, you shook your head, yawning. “Nothing.” he sighs softly, playing with your hair “Just wanted to call my name?”

You nodded “Yeah.” he yawned “Well, shit it’s twelve now. Can’t go to class today.” he comments, " you stretched your arms. “It’s okay fuck the professor.” you say “We’ll pass it tomorrow.”

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Humble request for a bottom villain x top hero where the villain struggles with insomnia, and out of desperation (and mayhaps horniness), suggests that the hero “help” them fall asleep, if you catch my drift ;) An extra helping of spice with that, thank ye!

“When did it start?” the hero asked. They took off the villain’s shirt and pressed a wet kiss to the villain’s neck.

They could be quite straightforward when they wanted to be. The villain welcomed the candor, they found it quite refreshing when the hero told them a plan was full of logical errors or that the villain’s actions were unacceptable.

“Like…” The villain tried to think but it was getting more difficult with the hero levelling their weight on the villain’s hips and leaving a path of kisses up their neck. “…fuck, I don’t know. Like, two months ago?”

The hero paused with the kisses and looked at the villain with a hint of a frown on their face.

“Two months?” they asked. The villain could see their chest heave rhythmically and it was, stupidly, demanding a little too much attention.

“Yeah…”

“Help me with your pants, will you?”

“Oh—okay—” The villain didn’t even have enough energy to be excited. They were exhausted but couldn’t sleep. At this point, they were used to turning and tossing in their bed. It was an actual punishment and although they believed they deserved this to some degree, it slowly began to turn into a cruel and violent thing.

A part of them had already lost all hope of getting a good night's sleep.

Headaches accompanied them all day. They couldn’t eat, they had troubles with their vision. They had tried most things the internet had told them to: physical activity, an optimised work schedule, balanced nourishment. Nothing had worked so far and they refused to see a doctor.

Once their pants were off, the villain felt even more incompetent than when they had suggested all of this.

“Are you nervous?” the hero asked and when the villain looked up at them, they looked quite concerned.

Hell, the hero could be so kind.

“I’m fine,” the villain lied.

“Do you have any preferences?” The hero touched the villain’s naked chest gently and instinctively, the villain took in a deep breath. They preferred to swallow their moans. That was pathetic to some degree but unfortunately, it had become a habit.

Sometimes, it was even astonishing to the villain how little their self-confidence was.

“I don’t think so, no…” It probably meant nothing to the hero. It was probably like a job to them or maybe they were even using the villain for their own benefits — the villain wasn’t sure and they were actually terrified this would turn out to be very painful.

But they were undeniably desperate. Desperate for something to actually work, desperate for rest that lasted more than two hours.

"To be clear, we are taking this very slow," the hero said. Their voice was soft, softer than it should have been.

"Hm?" the villain asked. They hadn't realized how hard their fingers were digging into the hero's waist.

"Well...it's our first time together, so we shouldn't rush it." The villain couldn't believe that the hero was actually blushing. Usually, figuring out the hero's true feelings was an entire puzzle game.

"But isn't quick and rough more, I don't know, appropriate for our relationship?" the villain asked. At least, that was what they had expected - something purely physical that had no other feelings attached.

The villain wouldn't have minded.

"Oh, I..." The hero scratched the back of their neck. "I actually thought it would be more helpful if it was a little more ardent. I mean, considering your condition, you really need to rest and I guess it could help your body more if you were actually really into it. And, uh...if, you know, we are more intimate, we could take our time to communicate more and you can tell me what you like and what you dislike and if we take it slow, you can really get used to it and...I'm gonna be honest, two months is really bad."

The villain stared at the hero, eyes wide. Were they actually losing their mind or had they just heard more words coming out of the hero's mouth than they had thought to be possible?

"Wait, are you saying you don't want to or you can't or...?" The villain blinked several times. God, it was so frustrating to be so slow with their thoughts.

The villain felt like they could actively tell whenever a brain cell of them died.

"No, darling, I..." The hero put their flat hand on the villain's naked chest, right where their heart was. The hero's fingers were so warm against their chest that it was actually very pleasant. "I knew you struggled but I didn't know this started two months ago. I could have helped you sooner. Two months is actually fucked up and I don't know if I can really help you."

"Oh..." The hero raised their hands, suddenly alarmed.

"Of course I will try but you should see a doctor nonetheless." They took the villain's hands and pressed soft kisses against the villain's knuckles. "Also, I don't want your money."

"Are you sure?" the villain whispered.

"Very sure." The hero bent over and pinned the villain's wrists above their head. There wasn't much space between them anymore, in fact, the villain's lips were nearly brushing against the hero's. And it seemed to the villain like their enemy was hesitating.

If the villain's brain had functioned properly, they would have probably come to a very convincing and quick explanation as for why the hero was acting like that. Blushing. Talking a lot. Hesitating.

But the villain had all the clues in front of them and couldn't connect them.

"Ready when you are," the villain said and the hero only nodded quickly.

It was quite different from what the villain was used to. They had never considered themselves to be a good lover. Most of their relationships had crashed like a car - quickly and painfully. Hence, they had rather told themselves to concentrate on themselves first.

But for some reason, the hero made them feel a little better about themselves. Their sweet and innocent kisses only slowly evolved into something more passionate and carnal.

A few times, the hero parted from them to moan the villain's name or to kiss their body.

And then, the villain couldn't really explain it, they actually got tired. They supposed it was the warmth and the intimacy. They supposed it was the hero's sweet voice and their kind words. For a while, they fought it. They tried to concentrate on the hero but it was getting more difficult by the second.

It was something so strange and foreign, yet so comforting that only for a second, the villain thought they had completely lost it. They managed to wrap their arms around the hero and reply with lazy kisses, even though the hero was doing most of the work.

For the first time, they felt truly at peace. It was quite impossible. They felt safe, they felt protected. It wasn't like they had been more stressed than usual or that they had felt unsafe at home.

But the hero who was gentle and kind really gave something within the villain the kind of solace that they didn't know they had needed.

The villain allowed themselves to close their eyes and relax for a second.

"Are you okay?" the hero whispered. They kissed the villain's forehead but the villain didn't open their eyes.

"Yeah...yeah, just...gimme a sec." The hero raked through their hair and that was the last thing the villain could recall.

[rainybubbles]

How do you meet COD men after your break-up with them ?

Price, Ghost, König, Soap, Alejandro, Gaz, Alex

(Sorry in advance for my mistakes, English is not my mother tongue. So sorry if it's badly written or if they're OOC. )

P R I C E :

-In a waiting room at the hospital with him baring his ass and you in your white coat, that's how you meet after your break-up.

-"I can't believe we're both at the hospital," John sighs in pain.

-"Yeah, I thought this was the trendy coffee shop. Turns out, my navigation skills are terrible," you joke.

-He lets out a small laugh.

-"So how did you end up with your ass burnt, John ? Did you try some sexy wax ?"you ask while you begin to examine him.

-"Do you really need to ask why something is burn ?"

-"Soap ?" you guess.

-Price nods.

-"Shit, I think you have some third degree burns on the right side."

-"Soap wanted to make a firework on the base, to light up the mood of everyone on the base. He tried to test the fireworks before, and I was there at the wrong moment."Price explains while you help him walk towards the surgery room.

-"It must have hurt like hell. Lay down here on your stomach, I'll call my colleague. His specialty is the burns, so you'll be in good hands. Normally your ass will only have scars on the right side."

-"Guess I have the other half to seduce people then." he jokes.

-You smile.

-"You know you have a great ass, John. Don't worry about that."

-"I know, love."

-You both stare at each other when he said the nickname. It has been eight months since you broke up. It was on mutual agreement, because you had a promotion on your job that didn't let you time for a relationship.

-You gulp and nod.

-You leave the room and ask the help of your colleague and continued your job.

-You tried to ignore the tension you had with John when you were talking. You tried to ignore the image of him smiling.

-Hours later when you have finished your duty, you were walking out of the hospital when you noticed John.

-"Someone of the team picks you up ?" you ask.

-"Yes, but they're late."

-You hesitate to wait with him, after all you had nothing to do. But your mind reminds you it would be a bad idea.

-"How's your job ?" Price asks.

-"I...Fine. In fact I was transferred to another service two months ago. So it's calmer and I don't have many 24h shifts now. And you ?"

-"Still busy."

-You nod.

-"I quit smoking." Price says suddenly.

-You raised your eyebrows. Cigars were like Price's identity. Like Spiderman has his mask, Price has his cigars and hats.

-"Why ?" you ask.

-"I know you hate the smell."

-"Oh."

-"I think we made a mistake back then, I wanted to text you but..." Jon starts.

-"But you get your ass burnt and me seeing your naked ass before you could do it."

-He laughed.

-"Yes."

-"So you think we should give us another chance ?"

-"I'm sure. I mean we always managed to find time for us with my busy schedule, so why would it be a bother if you have one too ? Plus you said you were transferred so I guess your schedule is back to normal ?"

-"Yes,"you say.

-"Do you want this, sweetheart ?" Price asks looking at you in the eyes

-"I..."

-"You ?"

-"I missed you," you admit.

-"Me too."

-"And shit, I didn't know what to do when I saw you again, but I'm sure I don't want to give up when eight months later you still make me flustered by just a look."

-John smiles.

-"Then we have another chance."

-You nodded.

-"Yes we have."

-I guess Soap burnt some ass, but also help to light the fire of love.

G H O S T :

-The rain was falling.

-Soldiers were wearing their uniforms, and the silence was omnipresent.

-Nobody dared to move, to speak. Only the sobbings of a widow were heard.

-It was Thomas' funeral.

-Thomas was one of Ghost's men, but also someone you knew as a friend.

-So when you arrived at the funeral, you saw Simon.

-It has been two years since you saw him. After your break-up it was as if you had imagined Ghost.

-There were no traces of him, not even in your shared flat, or in your phone.

-You didn't know what to do now he was here in front of you, so you stayed back.

-You ignored the pain of loss and bitter you were feeling about him and the situation.

-But then he was next to you. Like a shadow who didn't dare to approach you, too scared to burn himself with your lighting presence.

-"Simon," you decided to whisper.

-"Y/n," he answered.

-It was awkward. You didn't know what to do. You were with him during four years, but it was like you were strangers again.

-"I...Had Thomas said something before he died ?" you asked.

-You knew Ghost was the one who found Thomas' corpse on the mission.

-"He talked about his wife. And ask to protect the kid."

-"...I see,"you whispered.

-He didn't add anything else, so you sighed.

-"And you ?"

-"me ?" Ghost asked.

-"Simon, he was one of your men. You have known Thomas for three years, even though you didn't have a bond with him like Soap, I know you're feeling guilty now."

-"I'm guilty."

-You wanted to slap him.

-"Guilty of what, Simon ? You can't save everyone. You can't just sacrifice yourself to save the ones you love. It doesn't work like this."

-"It worked for you."

-"Are you really bringing this up ?"you whispered angrily.

-"You're happier now."

-"No I'm not. I just have tried to live again without you. Shit, you left without any warnings, without...without telling me. I had to guess you were breaking up with me."

-He stayed silent.

-"Simon, say something."

-"Why did you keep pursuing me ?"

-"Why did you let me to ?"you asked.

-"...I couldn't lose you."

-"But you did."

-"I know. But I had told you not to choose me."

-"But I did."

-He stayed silent.

-"And I will always choose you." you added.

-Simon raised his eyebrows.

-"...I screwed up." Simon whispered.

-"You did."

-"It's too late, now," Simon said.

-"It's never too late to make up for it, Simon."

-"It's been two years," Simon added.

-"But I'm here."

-"You deserve better," Simon said.

-"My tastes are shitty, what can I say ?"

-He smiled under his mask.

-"I don't ask a new romantic relationship with you, Simon. I just want to be in your life. I don't care if it's platonic, romantic or something else. Just, let me be here for you."

-"Even though we end up strangers again ?"

-"Yes."

-"You're stubborn."

-"I learned that from my ex," you joked.

-He smiled.

-"Okay," he whispered

-"Okay," you answered.

The next day he texted you.

K Ö N I G :

(/!/TW,chemo mentionned, Implied panic attack, it's not said clearly but it's clearly implied.)

-You were visiting your grandma when you saw König in the building.

-It was awkward, you both pretended to not have recognized each other but now you were both in the lift.

-Well stuck in the lift.

-Because a lift is not supposed to tremble and let out a ringing.

-"I...I think we can stop pretending we don't know each other since we're stuck for at least two hours now," you said while you sat on the floor.

-"I didn't know what to do. I'm sorry," König whispered quickly.

-"Me too, and when you didn't say anything, I thought it was better to stay silent too."

-He nodded.

-"So...you're here for your grandma ?" he asked.

-"yes."

-"Does she still have chemo or ?"

-"No she's in remission. You remembered that ?" you asked surprised

-"Yes, you talked a lot about it."

-You stayed quiet. One of the reasons for the break-up was your feeling of being alone in this relationship. König was always gone and at home it seems like he didn't listen to you, or avoided you a lot.

-You only talked once about your grandma and it was two years ago.

-"I see" you said

-The silence was awkward. But then you heard König's breath rushed.

-You noticed how his eyes were widen and how hard he gripped his own clothes.

-You know what was coming, so you held his hands like you were used to.

-"König, focus on me."

-"I'm sorry."

-"Don't apologize, focus on me and my voice. Everything is okay."

-"We're stuck in an lift. It's not okay. Scheisse."

-"yes it is, I mean it's kinda cozy ?" you tried to joke.

-He snorts.

-"Okay it smells like piss and it's small, but we're alive and breathing." you said.

-"I'm sorry," König said.

-"Don't apologize for being anxious, König. Just focus and breathe slowly."

-You inhale with him slowly.

-He calmed down a bit.

-"I'm sorry," he continued.

-"You don't have to apologize, I told you. It's not your fault the lift is-"

-"Not about this, about us." König said anxiously.

-"Us ?"

-"Yes, I...I was so worried you would leave me if I made a mistake that I ended up to avoid you and, and I couldn't stop and..."

-"And I broke up with you."

-"Yes if had communicated better with you, none of us would be hurt. I'm so sorry." König said, crying.

-"Shh, don't cry. Just focus on my voice and breathe," yousay "Can I ask you a question ?" you asked.

-He nodded.

-" Why are you saying this, now ? It's been three months since we broke up."

-"Because it felt like my last chance. I...I don't believe in fate but being stuck in an lift with you feels like a big coincidence."

-You nodded.

-"yes. I'm sorry too, König. I should have talked before making suppositions. I know you have anxiety, and I didn't consider it."

-"you couldn't have guessed."

-"yes, but I could have waited for you to explain."

-König nodded.

-"Do you feel better ?" you asked.

-"yes, but don't let go my hand, please."

-You nod. You know physical touch helped him a lot.

-"I still have one of your mask at home." you said.

-"I'm sorry I could take it back and-"

-"And my dog refused to let it go. I hide it, but it seems like my dog always finds your mask and sleeps with it like it's a plush."

-König's heart melted. Your dog was a puppy when you started dating him, he helped you with it for two years so of course your dog still feels attached to him.

-"it's cute."

-"I wanted to send you a picture of it, but it didn't feel right. Because I used to do that when we were together. So I didn't know if it was appropriate."

-"It is appropriate." König said, quickly, "I mean, send them please, I miss your dog."

-"okay, I will," you smiled.

-One hour later the lift was fixed, when you came back home you send him a photo of your dog

and...

-One year later, König was on the photo too. Guess your dog and a lift were just what you needed to have another chance.

S O A P :

-Half-naked in a chair.

-That's how you met Soap after your break-up.

-Both of you stared at each other, surprised.

-"I-" you tried to start.

-"I-" he also said.

-"Maybe you can...put your shirt back on ?" you tried.

-"Oh shit, aye. 'm sorry yer colleague says to get ready and..."

-"It's not a striptease club, Soap. She was only talking about your references," you chuckled.

-He smiled.

-You sat on the chair in front of him.

-"Do you still want to do it, even though you know it's me ? I can call a colleague if you prefer."

-"I always have trusted yer art skills. I want ye," He said without hesitation.

-It was true. Back then Soap always supported you when you confessed you wanted to become a tattoo artist.

-"I guess you didn't know who I was. Or perhaps you enjoy being shirtless at your ex's workplace ?" you joked.

-He smiled.

-"Naw, I didnae ken. Plus there's nae picture o' your face on yer Insta. I liked yer work, so I just booked an appointment, I didn't know yer artist name was that," Soap says.

-"yeah" you said. "so, you're here for a cover. I bet you and Gaz made a bet, you were drunk and a creepy tattoo artist accepted to tattoo you ?"

-"Youknow me, well." Soap smiled.

-"How ugly it is ?"

-"I have a portrait of Price on my chest, but it looks like Michael Jackson and under there is written"no pen, no gain.""

-You tried to not laugh.

-"Price ?"

-"It was to show my respect."

-"You can respect someone without having their face tattooed." You laugh.

-"I know, I was drunk and...I regret it. Dae ye think you can do something ?"

-"Well now, I need to look at it."

-"Ye said it was not a striptease club."

-"Guess I was wrong."

-He laughed and put off his shirt.

-You looked at the horrible piece on his right pectorals.

-"Shit, his teeth are stuck to his noses and one eye is like twice the size of the other,"you noticed.

-"I know."

-"But you're lucky."

-"Why ?"

-"Your terrible tattoo artist use light inks, it's easier to cover than a black and white piece. The more the piece is darker, the more it's difficult to cover it."

-"Okay, so ye can do it ?"

-"I can erase Price and no pen, no gain. Yes. Do you have any ideas about your cover ?"

-"You." Soap said.

-You blinked.

-"smooth, Mac Tavish, really smooth."

-"So it's a yes ?"

-"It's a no for me being the tattoo."

-"But ?" Soap smirked.

-"But yes for a coffee."

-He smiled.

-"but before let's erase Price from your body, I don't want to wake up at your side and see him staring at me."

-Soap laughs.

A L E J A N D R O :

(TW /!/, there's some reference about something put in some food)

-You met him in the street at 1 A.M.

-Alejandro had drinks with Los Vaqueros at a bar to celebrate a successful mission. He was going back to his car when he noticed someone who limped.

-He approached this person, maybe they were hurt and...

-"Y/N"

-You looked up.

-Shit.

-"I can explain," you said.

-"Explain why you're limping in a Patrick from Sponge bob in heels ?"

-"...yes ?"

-"Why does it sound like a question ?"

-"Because I don't know, I- It was a friend's birthday and they love Sponge Bob and I saw that on Tik tok. It was fun but..."

-"You sprained your ankle with your heels."

-"yes, but I came on foot."

-Alejandro looked at you.

-"I can drive you."

-"Alejandro, you don't need to. I mean it's already enough awkward and-"

-"I don't want you to hurt yourself, plus it's dangerous for everyone to walk on streets at 1 AM, hurt."

-You knew how Alejandro was serious and stubborn.

-"okay." you said, but Alejandro started to kneel down.

-"Wow, what are you doing ?"

-"Taking off your heels, your ankle is swollen it musts hurt like this."

-You let him do it.

-"I feel like Cinderella," you said.

-"Except you're in Patrick's costume and near to some piss in a street."

-You laughed.

-"I guess you were celebrating." you said pointing at the bar behind you.

-"yes, we finished the mission." he said and quickly looked away.

-This mission.

-The one which made you leave him.

-Alejandro was too absent.

-You tried to accept this, he warned you before you dated but after four years, you couldn't bear it anymore.

-"I see."

-He put your shoes in his backpack and looked at you.

-"I will carry you."

-"You don't need it, Alejandro I can walk." you said while you tried but you only hissed at pain.

-"No, you can't."

-"You can't give me a piggyback ride. You have a backpack and..."

-"Bridal style, it's only the time we reach my car."

-You looked at him hesitant and nodded. Then he carried you. This man didn't have muscles for nothing and you knew it but you were still self-conscious.

-Once you reached his car, he drove to your flat. But when you were supposed to enter to your building, you stayed in the car.

-"Alejandro."

-"Y/N."

-"Thanks for tonight, I know for you it's normal, but not a lot of people would have helped their ex like this."

-"Not a lot of people have amazing exes."

-"You're a smooth talker."

-"I am." He smirked.

-"How's Rudy ?" you asked out of nowhere.

-Alejandro was surprised.

-"Fine, but why do you ask ?"

-"I don't want to go back to my flat."

-"Y/N..."

-"I...I don't know if it's because I'm tired, but shit, I want to cry. Because you met me again like this. But also because I thought I could....I could forget you, but I can't because I know we broke up because of an impulsion. I was upset, yes. Yes you ignored me when I was telling you about your absence. But I never tried to think with you of solutions, I only shouted and I felt bad about it," you said tears in your eyes.

-And Alejandro noticed how your body language was unusual.

-"Did you drink, Y/N ?"

-"No, but I think there was something in the food at the birthday's party," you said.

-"okay, then I'm staying with you to be sure you're okay."

-"thanks. And sorry I shouldn't have vent like this."

-"you're not yourself, it's okay, mi cielo." He said while he carried you at your flat's door then opened it.

-"I missed this," you whispered.

-"Miss what ?"

-"you speaking Spanish. Did you know I subscribe to Duolingo after our first date ?" you said.

-"You never told me that."

-"I wanted to impress you."

-"But you have never spoken Spanish to me."

-"Because I never went more further than unit one on duolingo, I'm shitty at this."

-(sorry if you're fluent or good in Spanish ;)

-He laughed.

-"I could have taught you Spanish." Alejandro smiles while he helped you to remove the pink paint on your face.

-"I never think about it."

-"Because you always want to carry everything." Alejandro whispers.

-"I have to."

-"No."

-"But if I don't, who will ? Nobody will carry me." you answered.

-"I will, I wanted to."

-You stayed quiet.

-"I let the trainings of cadets to Rudy one month ago, I also started some cooperation with another squad so I would have more time."

-"But I broke up with you." you realized.

-"It's okay, you didn't know. I...I wanted to surprise you, but I forgot how much I let you carry for me, how much I relied on you without helping you back."

-Tears were rolling on your cheeks. Alejandro wiped them with his thumbs.

-"I'm sorry, corazon," Alejandro said.

-"Me too."

-"We both need to talk next morning, okay ?"

-"okay" you whispered.

-Then he helped you to go to bed. The next morning he was on your sofa.

-And you talked.

-Maybe some things were unfinished between you.

G A Z :

-You met because Soap is a fanboy.

-Let me explain.

-You and Gaz were high school sweethearts. But after his enlistment you both decided it was better to break up, because with you beginning university and him being in the military you wouldn't have had time for each other.

-And you didn't meet again.

-But years later, Soap invited Gaz and Ghost to a concert.

-Soap had been talking for months about this band he loved.

-He even played the music during missions or on the base.

-He played it to wake everyone up, at one point where Price had banned this music of the base.

-So as a result Gaz and Ghost knew the lyrics and could accompany him to the concert.

-Gaz said 'why not ?' he liked the music.

-But when the concert started, he realized you were the bassist for this band.

-His heart beat faster; the nostalgia was here.

-He knew you played bass, hell he couldn't count how many time he let his head on your lap while you played with a smile.

-"You look like you have seen a ghost." Soap said.

-Ghost snorted. (he only came because he liked the music and because the band's logo was a skull.)

-Gaz gave them a look.

-"You're not funny, but yeah I..I know the bassist."

-Oh boy !

-Gaz should never have told that to Soap.

-Johnny had sparkles in his eyes and was jumping for joy. He begged Gaz to talk to the bodyguards, so they could go to the dressing room and get autographs.

-Gaz tried to explain, but he could barely open his mouth before he found himself standing in front of the guard.

-So when they were in front of the dressing room after the concert, Gaz was sweating. How would you react? It had been years since he saw you. Even though it was on good terms, you both had broken up, he didn't know if you want to meet him again.

-The door opened and...

-"Kyle ?" you asked with a smile.

-Gaz fainted.

-Ghost caught him, and you immediately helped them seat Gaz in a chair in the dressing room.

-"Is he okay ?" you asked Soap.

-"I don't know, it's the first time I've seen him like that. I mean we have seen worst than someone smiling ?" Soap said lost.

-"I'm sorry, it's the stress." Gaz said, "I'm happy to meet you again, Y/N."

-"Yeah, the bodyguard told me you wanted to talk. I was so happy. I mean it's been a while," you smiled.

-"yeah." Gaz answered.

-A silence fell.

-Ghost sighed.

-"Are you both going to let the sexual tension in the room continue or can we know how you both know each other ?" Ghost asked

-You cleared up your throat at the comment.

-"You were high school sweethearts. Our relationship lasted like 2 or 3 years ? But we broke up when Kyle enlisted."

-Soap had a big smirk on his face.

-"Really, high school sweetheart ?" Soap asked

-He was going to tease Gaz on the base about this.

-"Yeah, but it's been awhile. Well, we won't bother you anymore. You played great, and we were just here to congratulate you." Gaz said flustered, he hated to be exposed like this.

-"and to ask if you were free, I mean we love your music and want to know more now we know about your past with Gaz" Soap asked.

-You raised your eyebrows and laughed.

-"Sure, I'm free. I guess you have a lot of embarrassing stories about Gaz."

-"I like you already." Soap smiled.

-Gaz never survived the meeting between you and Soap.

-It was one of his top ten embarrassing moments, after calling Price 'dad' in a meeting with Sheperd.

-But at least he had your number now, years later who knows what could happen.

A L E X :

-You met him at a wedding to arrest him.

-"When we were called for a fight at a wedding, I didn't expect you, Alex. What happened ?" you said while you helped him with his bleeding nose.

-"The bride thought her fiancé who's my friend, was cheating on her with me." Alex said while he furrowed his brows

-"And ?"

-"I wasn't. Leo had coffee on his suit, so I brought him a new one and when she walked on us, she saw him half-naked, and I red-faced because I had run from the shop to the wedding."

-You laughed.

-"She had quite a punch," you said while you looked at his broken nose.

-"Yes, she could compete with Price honestly." Alex sighed.

-You didn't say anything else while your colleagues calmed the bride.

-"I guess you're no longer invited to this wedding anymore," you joked.

-"I guess there won't be a wedding anymore either." he added while he laughed.

-"Do you want to see a doctor, or are you okay ?"

-"I'm okay, it's just nosebleed, nothing I haven't dealt with before."

-"Well I should go now that the situation is fixed."

-"Yeah."

-You began to leave, when he called out your name.

-"Yes ?" you answered.

-"It was...nice to see you again."

-"Yeah"

-"I'll text you once I'm home."

-"Okay."

-You left.

-Alex hurried home as quickly as he could to his home as fast as he can.

-Maybe some things were unfinished, like this wedding.

If you want more COD : COD masterlist

And if you want more of my works in other fandoms : my masterlist

[readerthatreadsss]

Requesting more dom!peter 😮‍💨🥵

𝗔/N: Your request is my command! (especially since I've been searching for more dom!Peter fics myself and have been failing so I might as well do it my damn self!) Also, yeah, it's been a damn long time lmao. I planned to finish up and release this like 4 months ago. Then a whole bunch of bad shit happened and I kinda gave up on writing for a little bit (outside of school cause I need that damn Bachelor's degree) BUT I've slowly started reading again and that bled into me opening up my drafts and finding this and spending some time with it. If you couldn't tell I had a shit ton of fun with this one...so feel free to check my newly updated Masterlist and request guidelines and send me more requests! The more I get, the more I'm gonna force myself to actually write them. (If you already sent one just know I’m working on it I promise)

𝗔𝗹𝗹 𝗡𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 | 𝗧𝗮𝘀𝗺!𝗣𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿

(heavily inspired by the song with the same title by Adele.) It came up in my shuffle and when I started listening to the lyrics it was just too perfect.

he's so fucking pretty aghhhh (gif not mine)

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: Tasm!Peter Parker x Vigilante!Fem reader

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 5.6k+ (This is my big comeback so I might as well feed yall)

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: You and Peter have been broken up for about 3 years, but when an impromptu visit to your apartment takes a turn...that may no longer be the case...

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 (𝟭𝟴+ 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗠𝗶𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗗𝗡𝗜): SMUT!, lil bit of angst at the end (ex to lovers so ofc), minimal use of y/n, P*rn-with-plot, Reader and Peter are FERAL for each other because of their powers (enhanced senses and all that), p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap your willy before you fuck her silly), a lil possessive Peter, oral (r receiving), fingering, praise kink, Peter using his webs to restrain reader (pre-consented ofc), dom!Peter, sub!Reader (bratty at first tho), pet names (sweetheart, baby, pretty girl, angel), choking, rough sex, brief spanking, other positions, creampie, etc...

The remaining sunlight of the evening bled through your wide studio apartment windows as you finished folding what was left of your newly washed laundry. The plan for the rest of the evening was simple;

Drink two bottles of wine (knowing that your enhanced metabolism would sober the effects), catch up on a few missing assignments to keep your NYU professors off your ass, then jump into your suit and go patrolling.

It was a familiar routine.

Or at least, it had been...since he left.

Your relationship with him ended during your first year of college. To say it hurt like hell would be an immense understatement.

What hurt the most was the fact that you both gave everything you had to make it work...but long distance can be a bitch.

On that warm Saturday night in May, your ex-boyfriend received a call informing him that he had been accepted into a very prestigious engineering program (with a full-ride scholarship attached) all the way in California.

You applied for the very same program, so you knew just how big of an opportunity it would be. And, in good faith, you pushed him to take the offer.

You both insisted, "we'll make it work," and "we'll video chat and text every day. It'll be fine!"

What a load of horseshit.

It took 6 months for you to both arrive at the conclusion that you couldn't juggle your individual academic loads, your nighttime hero personas, AND a long-distance relationship all at the same time. A three-hour time difference didn't help matters either.

It took a while, but you eventually moved on. You kept your grades up, went on a few dates here and there, and even managed to convince yourself that you were doing fine without him.

Until...

*knock knock knock*

Your head peeked out from the fridge to look where you heard the strong yet hesitant knocks on your front door.

Only a handful of people knew where you lived and you weren't expecting to see any of them today.

Assuming it would be a postal worker or someone along those lines, you swung open the door with a polite smile.

"Hi-"

You felt your voice die in your throat as you locked eyes with the deep brown ones you hadn't seen in three years.

"Peter," his name fell from your lips, barely audible.

"Hi, Y/N," he replied with that awkward grin you knew all too well.

His hair was shorter than the last time you saw him, but from the tight fit of his jacket, you could see that was about the only thing about him that shrunk.

You wanted to actually hit yourself in the head for actually imagining yourself doing many things to his large...meaty...biceps- NO, no, no, no get a grip! a voice of logic sounded in your mind.

You hadn't realized how long you stood there silently sizing him up until he spoke again. "Can I...uh...come in, maybe?"

"Umm...sure," you nervously answered, finally taking note of the small cardboard box he was holding.

As you stepped aside to allow him entrance into your apartment, his familiar scent invaded your sensitive senses.

"Oh God," you muttered under your breath, knowing that he heard you, yet unaware that your scent had basically the same effect on him as well.

"You alright?" he turned and asked you in concern trying to hide the tightening of his jeans with the box he brought.

You nodded way too fast, promptly putting some distance between yourself and him. He hadn't been there for longer than 5 seconds and he was already having an effect on you.

"How've you been?" he questioned you, scratching his neck and actively avoiding eye contact. Unbeknownst to you, he was currently repeating every physics law he could remember in his mind to try to quell his growing erection.

It wasn't working very well.

"I've been fine. You?" you quickly spoke, slightly out of breath.

"I-uh-I'm alright," he shook his head with a tight-lipped smile.

He soon found himself just looking at you. It wasn't a blank stare, no, it was the sort of intense look you unintentionally gave someone when trying to commit every single feature to memory as if you weren't certain when you'd get another chance to.

It was a habit of his you noticed a lot when you were dating. And just as it did back then, it sent chills running rampant down your spine. Not to mention your nipples growing obviously hard behind your large shirt with no bra to hide it.

Peter noticed it immediately and fought back a smile, which you glimpsed.

"Why are you here, Peter?" you decided to get down to business before your body betrays you any further.

The brunette let the question hang in the air for a few seconds before actually coming up with an answer. "I wanted to drop these off," he placed the small box on your kitchen counter.

Your eyes immediately narrowed. "You could have mailed it. Or you could've just dropped it at the door and then left. So why are you really here Peter?" you would have felt worse about your tone if you weren't so bothered.

Why the hell did he feel the need to suddenly show up and make you start feeling things you swore you wouldn't feel for him again?

Peter took a deep breath. "Aunt May called me last week. She's not doing too good. So, I came back to help take care of her."

You felt your stomach sink at his words. While you both dated, May grew to be like a second mother to you. You had no idea she was sick.

"Oh shit Peter-I'm so sorry," you crossed the room to engulf him in a hug, despite your initial reaction to his visit.

Peter immediately accepted your hug and found the anxiety in his body dissipating soon after. Your hugs tended to have that effect on him.

He couldn't stop himself from deeply inhaling and drawing in your hair's familiar scent when he wrapped his hands around your clothed waist.

A few seconds passed before you released each other, with you also savoring the feel of his body against you and the way how your skin lit up with goosebumps though there was a thin layer of clothing separating his hands from you.

"I was just cleaning up my old room at May's and I found some of your stuff so I figured I'd drop by and..."

You nodded in understanding and walked over to where he placed the box.

It was mostly filled with old t-shirts, tools, and gadgets from days when you would sleep over at Peter's or stop by to help each other with school projects.

"Thanks," you sent him a smile as you closed the box.

Your smile warmed Peter's heart. It was actually his second favorite thing about you, after your hugs of course. "Yeah, you're welcome," he smiled back, running his hand through his hair. It was a mess by now, but you still wanted to run your hands through it…or maybe even pull on it-

"Sorting through some of this stuff made me realize how much I...missed you," he said, his tone growing more assured.

Thankfully, you were still facing away from him, not giving him the chance to catch the pained expression that briefly crossed your face.

But you could feel him slowly approaching your frozen figure and found your body silently reacting in ways it shouldn't be, yet again. "Do you miss me?" he asked, his voice heavy.

You held back the urge to scream "Yes!" because admitting that out loud would be taking 3 steps backward.

Admitting that you missed him would be undoing all the work and tears you put into moving on from him and the hopes and dreams you had for a life with him.

Admitting that you missed him would mean giving in to the part of you that thought back to your most intimate moments with him when you touched yourself.

And admitting that you missed him would mean letting him back into the four-cornered box you had locked yourself in for the past 3 years.

But, with every step closer that he took, your resolve disappeared that much faster.

"You okay?" he called for your attention.

Your sharp intake of oxygen brought a tense silence over the room when you turned to face him and realized that he stood close enough for your lips to nearly brush his.

"Peter, I-" you tried to form words, but then you saw his lust-filled brown eyes lower to your lips.

And that was all it took for the last of your self-control to disappear.

"Damn it," you mumbled once you realized what was about to happen.

Before Peter could question your outburst, you found yourself latching onto his jacket lapels and pulling him down to meet your lips.

It took mere milliseconds for Peter to react. After all, he had been thinking about doing this since you swung open the door and looked up at him with those eyes of yours.

His large calloused hands took hold of the sides of your face as you clashed in a heap of teeth and tongue. It was desperate and feverish but it was perfect.

It was a language only you and Peter seemed to master, even now after three years apart.

Your lips moved swiftly against his, eager to taste more and more of him with each passing second. You felt him press his growing bulge flush against you, causing a pathetic whine to involuntarily tumble from your lips and a smirk to find its way onto his.

"I did miss you," you softly spoke, "but we can't do this Peter," the logical part of your brain made an appearance, though you kept peppering his lips with kisses.

As his lips moved to your neck, Peter's hands slid down to your ass where he effortlessly lifted your legs off the ground and up around his waist. The feeling of his hands against the bare skin of your thighs garnered yet another moan from you.

"You don't sound so sure angel," you felt him smirk against your heated skin.

You hadn’t heard that nickname in years yet it sent small chills down your spine for the second time that night.

A mumbled curse slipped your lips when he nipped a particular spot below your ear. That was definitely gonna leave a mark.

You soon gathered the strength to pull Peter's hungry lips away from your body, swinging your arms around his neck to hold yourself up.

"We can’t go back from this, you know that right?" you spoke, the both of you panting from the effects of the last minute.

"I don't wanna go back," Peter shook his head, "I wanna fuck you, right here, right now," his lips immediately found yours before his words could fully resonate.

This caught you by surprise which allowed Peter to slip his tongue between your lips.

As his taste continued to flood your senses, you felt yourself grow alarmingly wet.

Peter knew it too because he slowly pulled back and smirked down at you. "I could smell you from the moment I walked in here. Glad to see three years hasn't changed the way your body reacts to me, angel," he accompanied his words with a quick slap to your ass.

His slap and the familiar pet name left you a moaning mess. Just like he knew it would.

A lovely laugh left Peter's mouth before his lips met yours again.

He walked your entangled bodies over to the kitchen counter without breaking the sloppy kiss.

Peter used one hand to blindly clear the counter and place you on it, which sent your box of things flying toward the floor.

Not that either of you cared.

"Too much clothes," you were barely able to say in between kisses.

You followed up by shoving Peter's jacket off his shoulders which fell to your hardwood floors with a thud. He immediately got the message and got rid of his t-shirt as well.

A shameless whimper left your lips at the sight of his very toned muscles. You easily maneuvered Peter's body closer to you and began kissing and sucking his neck and every other available inch of skin just as you had pictured earlier, making sure to leave a few purple bruises in your wake.

“You’re killing me here baby,” Peter harshly swallowed, his eyes sliding closed as you continued to have your way with his chest.

"Wouldn't be a terrible way to die though, right?" you mumbled between lovebites and licks. You felt like an animal in heat but you just couldn't get enough of him, the occasional flex of his muscles with each slither of your tongue and his deep groans only egging you on more.

The taste of his skin alone could've made you cum easily.

But the same could be said for Peter as the feel of your tongue slithering all along his chest had him practically creaming his pants then and there.

Fucking enhanced senses, he cursed inwardly.

“Alright, ease up pretty girl,” he reluctantly grabbed your head, detaching your swollen lips from his body.

“Your turn,” he tugged at the hem of your top.

You quickly pulled off the oversized t-shirt you were wearing to reveal your bare top half to him.

He spared no time in cupping your breasts with his eager hands. "Fuck, I missed you so much," he mumbled.

"Me, or my boobs?" you jokingly raised a brow at him.

"Definitely both," he grinned, bringing his mouth down to your tits.

As his tongue made contact with the soft mounds, you loudly moaned and wrapped your fingers in his unruly tangle of hair.

He switched between nipping and sucking on your nipples, in the way he knew you liked, while his free hand pinched and squeezed the other.

"Just like that Peter fuck-" hearing his name fall from your lips drove Peter insane.

His tongue flicked your sensitive nipples harder, and his eager sucking pleased you to no end.

Peter eventually pried himself away from your supple breasts, remembering the other parts of you he wanted to worship, and brought his hands to rest on the sides of your head. Your lips connected once more in a delicate kiss.

Though you knew what lay ahead for the evening, you were both perfectly content with each other's lips at the moment, just enjoying the constant waves of pleasure from the intimate contact.

But it wasn't long before the kiss grew heated and you tried to take control. Peter, however, wasn't giving you a chance.

"I leave for three years and you think you're hot shit, huh," he smirked.

"Why don't you ask the guy I fucked on this counter last week," you retorted, knowingly riling him up.

"Don't say shit like that, it's not funny," he nearly growled as his grip on your ass grew more forceful.

You secured your grip on his hair before pressing a small kiss on the side of his lips. "Gimme a reason to shut up then," you challenged him.

“Trust me, I will,” Peter grabbed your hands from his hair and forced them to your sides. His movements were swift as he laid you flat on your counter and ripped your thong off your body.

There he is, you smiled to yourself. This is the Peter you wanted to fucking ruin you.

You felt his face ghost your drenched opening as he deeply inhaled your scent. "You smell fucking delicious baby," he praised you, his mouth actually watering at the thought of tasting you.

A genuine smile found its way onto your face but morphed into a gasp when Peter teasingly ran his tongue up your sensitive slit.

"You taste even better," he added, using his strong arms to bring your thighs closer to his head. He wanted to tease you but it was getting harder to resist the urge to dive right into your heat like a man starved.

"Holy shit," you all but screamed as he briefly nipped at your swollen clit before sucking on it to soothe the sting.

His grip on your thighs combined with the ministrations of his tongue was pure bliss.

You attempted to slip your hands in his hair once more, but found that they were suddenly held in place against your counter by two of his webs.

Your eyes briefly widened at the feel of the rough, sticky material against your wrists, not having felt it in a few years. Back then, you expressed to Peter your desire to engage in some bondage, but being the daughter of a super soldier, it was clear that no rope or wire would be able to hold you. Peter's webs became the next best choice.

"That's not fair," you pouted, though it melded into a moan as Peter continued to suck and lick between your glistening folds.

The sounds of Peter devouring you resounded through the small apartment.

"I'm close Pete," you whined, your chest heaving in arousal.

Peter decided to focus his tongue on your eager bundle of nerves while he slowly inserted two fingers into your pussy. He instantly curled the digits causing you to briefly squirm at the sudden pressure against your G-spot.

"More," you begged, and Peter delivered, adding another finger inside of you. He immediately sped up his motion inside of you, making sure his fingers gauged that spongy spot to drive you over the edge with each thrust inside of you.

“That feels so fucking good, Peter, oh my God," you loudly moaned at the feeling of his fingers inside of you, calling forth an orgasm with no warning.

You repeatedly bucked against Peter's face as you came, white-hot pleasure filling your veins. Peter locked onto your stare, still skillfully working his fingers in and out of you, loving the way you constantly clenched around his fingers.

"Jesus fucking Christ," your legs jerked when Peter dove in and drank every ounce of slick you had to give while still fucking you with his fingers.

With his face now damp of your juices, Peter looked up to meet your blissed-out eyes. "Gimme one more, angel," he placed a soft kiss on your thighs, "I know you can do it for me."

You would do anything to keep Peter's mouth between your legs.

So, you eagerly nodded in response before taking a deep breath in preparation for another onslaught.

You didn't have to wait long.

Peter’s tongue went to work on your glistening hole while his fingers fiddled with your overstimulated clit. And, within minutes, your thighs were trapping Peter's head as an even bigger orgasm rocked you again, the borderline pornographic sounds leaving your lips shooting straight to his hardened cock.

Peter seemed perfectly fine with staying between your legs all night, but you had other plans.

"Pete, I need you inside me," you begged, tears of pleasure leaking from your eyes.

He rose from beneath you and climbed up to free your hands from his webs. "I know, baby, I know," he softly replied, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips and using his hands to soothe your reddened wrists. Your own taste on his tongue flooded your senses which made you even more desperate.

Peter obliged, slipping out of his sweatpants and sliding his girth between your folds. He used one hand to hold himself up above you on the counter, and the other to slowly guide his dick into you.

You both shared a long moan as he buried himself to the hilt inside your pussy, your wetness making it way too easy.

He held still for a few seconds, waiting for you to adjust and give the all clear for him to move.

Eagerness guided your words. “Fuck me, please.”

Peter set a brutal pace, knowing you were more than capable of handling it. Satisfied cries left your chest as you dragged your nails along Peter’s back, hard enough to leave trails.

“You can take it, pretty girl, I know you can,” he groaned as he continued to pound into you, trying desperately not to blow his load with the way you were constantly clenching around him and marking his back.

You tried to reply, but all that you could form were sloppy moans and broken syllables.

“Oh look at you, drunk on my cock already?” he teased with a particularly hard slam that prodded your cervix, “I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

Pleasure-filled cries mingled with words continued to fall from your lips as Peter gently moved a few fallen strands of hair behind your ear with a hand. "-feels so fucking perfect," you muttered, your lips curved into a drunken smile.

Peter reached down and pinched one of your nipples, gaining a loud whimper from you. “I love hearing you make those pretty sounds for me baby,” his strokes grew harder and deeper.

“All for you, Pete, all for you,” you panted as he fucked into you, the delicious smell and sound of sex lingering in the air.

Peter used a hand to wrap around your throat before using the other to reach down and fiddle with your aching clit.

The combination of Peter’s dick hitting that perfect spot, his fingers massaging your clit, and the lack of air from his hand around your neck was making you dizzy and overstimulated.

You fucking loved it.

“God, I missed you,” you spoke breathlessly.

He moved closer to kiss you briefly and tenderly. “I missed you too, baby.”

No amount of time could take away his knowledge on how to please you, how to get you like this with ease, not when you were all he thought about for years on end.

Peter pressed a quick kiss to your forehead then continued to fuck you on your kitchen counter.

"I'm gonna cum again baby, right fucking there," you moaned out.

Peter's grip on your neck grew tighter. "Not yet, don't you cum until I tell you to sweetheart," he commanded you, removing his fingers from your clit.

A frustrated groan rumbled in your chest as you forced yourself to sustain your orgasm.

"Don't pout," he smirked.

And before you could realize it, Peter had pulled out of you and effortlessly flipped you onto your stomach.

A hand soon gripped your hair, yanking you up against his chest and eliciting a pitiful whine from you.

"Tell me what you want,” Peter commanded, using his free hand to strike your ass. Hard.

You whimpered again at the sting of his slap. “I need you inside me. Please,” you pleaded.

He seized your hair harsher and leaned forward for his lips to graze against your ears. “Beg.”

A small whine left your lips at his words. You were so desperate you didn’t even care how embarrassing this would be in retrospect. “I need to cum, Peter. Please baby you're the only one who can make me cum.”

Peter pressed a kiss to your neck, nearly causing you to lose your footing. And he soon complied by ramming himself back into you.

“Oh my Fuck-“ you cried before biting your lip, suddenly aware that you had neighbors.

But Peter pulled his cock from your heat, with just the tip remaining, before roughly slamming into you, his hips slamming against your ass with the motion. “Come on, lemme hear you angel.”

He repeated the action, knocking the air out of your chest, “Peter!” your hands gripped the sides of your counter with such force you were sure you felt it crack under your grasp.

Peter caught wind of this and freed your hair before using his hands to pull your hands behind your back. "You're so perfect baby," he mumbled in your ear, continuing to brutally fuck you from behind, "So fucking beautiful with my cock inside you."

"I can't hold it anymore," you cried, "I need to cum, Peter, please."

With that whiny tone and those overstimulated tears to top it off, Peter couldn't deny you any longer. "Let it all out for me sweetheart. Cum for me," he littered your shoulders with kisses.

Your eyes slammed shut as your walls contracted around his cock, pleasure shooting through you and rocking you on a seemingly cellular level. Your mouth opened in a silent moan, unable to form a sound from the satisfied tremors attacking your nerves. The intensity of your finish is one only brought on when Peter fucked you and it was damn near cosmic.

"Shit," you groaned in relief, your long-awaited climax passing.

Peter slowed his movements inside of you and released your hands. "You did so good for me angel," he pushed your hair aside and kissed your neck, trying to stave off his own orgasm for a little while longer.

Aftershocks rocked your body while Peter continued sporadically moving inside of you, yet you couldn't get enough. Your body was more than ready to keep taking whatever he dished out.

Peter didn't need to read your mind to see that, but he needed to make sure. His lips kept up their onslaught on your neck as he softly spoke, "You wanna keep going?"

"Hell yes," you panted with a grin that he couldn't fully see, "You still haven't cum yet, and my bed is still fully made."

Happy with your response, Peter gave your ass a sharp smack. "That's my girl."

He pulled out of you and turned your body to face him, smiling at the sight of your fucked out face. "Three orgasms and a handful of tears later and you're still the most beautiful girl in the world," he held you by the sides of your face.

His words left you reeling, causing a slight blush to dust your cheeks and butterflies to swirl within your stomach.

Before you could form a response, Peter leaned down to kiss you. He soon hoisted up your legs around his waist, preparing to escort you to your bed as per your own demands.

As he looked around for the bed's location, you took advantage of his momentary distraction and latched your lips onto his neck, reapplying the bruises you left there that were slowly fading already.

Peter was the happiest man on earth as he walked over to your bed, his cock prodding your soaked entrance, and your lips ravaging his neck.

He carefully sat on the edge of your bed, with you now on his lap and your legs still around him. You expected him to ease his length back into you but he slowly brought your head down to meet his intense stare.

You carefully wrapped your hands around his shoulders to keep yourself up, the silence in the room growing deafening.

You could tell from his eyes that he desperately wanted to say something, and you wondered if it was the same thing you had been considering as well.

But you were both aware of what saying those words would mean for your broken relationship and simply settled for smiles instead.

Peter brought a hand up to lay your forehead against his, allowing your breathing to momentarily sync.

"You ready for me?" he questioned you with a hand at the nape of your neck to hold your head against his.

You immediately nodded in response causing his own head to shake in time with yours. A small laugh was shared between you both as your nose continued to brush his own.

"You're adorable," you said before you could stop yourself.

That stupid full-toothed grin that you hadn't seen in a while soon spread across his beautiful face at your words, gaining another laugh from you.

"Last round?” you eventually pleaded with a smile.

"Anything for you," Peter replied, meaning it in every way. Adoration littered his stare as he slowly lowered you onto his length.

A satisfied mewl slipped your lips at the familiar feel of him.

The slow drag of his cock in and out of you, while he rocked your hips back and forth to grind on him, had your bottom lip sucked between your teeth with eyes closed and head thrown back in pleasure.

But Peter wanted to see it all. He wrapped a hand around your neck and forced you to meet his dilated eyes. “Keep your eyes on me, baby.”

His soft yet stern tone caused you to swallow back a moan as you continued to move on his girth.

He then slapped your ass with his free hand, silently urging you to move faster.

You leaned down and quickly kissed his lips before happily obliging, now beginning to bounce in his lap, chasing your next climax.

“There you go angel, just like that,” Peter’s stare never wavered.

Peter furiously fucked up into you, your moans and the constant smack of skin on skin filling the apartment.

His other hand which never left your throat now squeezed it harder. “Fuck!” You were barely able to moan out as your breasts bounced with your every move.

“Shit, you’re gripping me like a vice,” Peter groaned, his crude pace never faltering though his orgasm was closer than ever.

Your bed creaked under the onslaught of your bodies, but neither of you payed it any attention only having one goal in mind.

“One more time,” Peter planted his feet on the ground to get a better angle, "Need you to cum on my cock one more time."

But from the broken pacing of his hips to the strong furrow of his brow, you could tell he was close too. “Together?” You breathlessly suggested, grasping the nape of his neck with your hands.

Peter nodded in agreement before engulfing your chest and back with his arms, pulling you closer to his body.

Your breaths mingled, eyes focused on nothing except each other as his grip on your upper body allowed him to help you ride him even faster.

"Yes, Pete, oh my God-" pleas, curses, and moans tumbled from your lips as your skin buzzed at your incoming release.

"There you go, cum for me," Peter's voice grew strangled as his hips stuttered below you.

"Fuck," you wailed, your finish hitting you like a freight train and your pussy leaking into Peter's length.

The intense clench of your walls around him was all it took for Peter to explode with a groan, his pace faltering with that final pump.

"Holy shit baby," he panted, his cum painting your walls in spurts.

His firm hold on your body brought you collapsing on your bed together, satisfied and smiling.

And, for what felt like hours, you lay there in his arms. But of course, your thoughts began to run rampant.

Peter could damn near hear your thoughts spiraling.

"I don't regret this," he suddenly broke the silence you had elapsed into, "Do you?"

"Peter I-...I don't know," you freed yourself from his hold and sat up to look at him.

His brows furrowed at your response, hurt briefly flashing across his features.

"I loved you," you spoke, "I loved you more than anything."

"I know. I loved you too," Peter nodded with a small smile.

"And I will never blame you for leaving. Ever," you slipped a hand in his own and squeezed briefly.

"But?"

Your eyes stung with tears threatening to fall. "What happened to us, it damn near destroyed me, Peter. And it took so so long to put myself back together."

Peter swallowed harshly at your words.

"And then here you come, waltzing in here, fucking my brains out and making me feel things," you lowered your head, looking away from him.

You heard Peter move closer to you before feeling him lift your chin to face him again. His expression wasn't as disappointed as you'd expected, just confused. "Spit it out. I know you're holding something back."

"Why'd you come back here and-and do all this? Reminding me of what we had when you know you're gonna be gone again in the next few weeks?" you felt your voice shrink to a broken whisper.

Peter used his thumb to wipe away a lone tear that fell from your eye, his previously puzzled look now morphing into a smirk. There was obviously something he wasn't telling you.

You sniffled and lightly hit Peter's shoulder. "Well, now it's your turn bug face, spit out whatever you're hiding!"

You received no answer other than Peter leaning forward and pressing a deep kiss against your lips. You eagerly accepted and returned the spontaneous action but were left even more confused when he pulled away.

"That wasn't an answer," you arched a brow at Peter.

"I'm not going anywhere," he smiled.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I'm moving back to New York, or already moved, technically," he began to explain.

Your mouth opened and closed in shock as your brain fumbled for a response and came up inconclusive.

"I'm gonna finish out the school year online and stay here to take care of Aunt May. I mean it, baby, I'm not going anywhere," he grinned, watching tears of joy fall from your eyes.

"This better not be some sick fucking joke Peter, I swear to God," you pointed a finger at him accusingly.

"Can you shut up and just come here?"

You couldn't help but laugh as you obliged and grabbed Peter's neck before pulling him in for another kiss, your face still wet from tears and a smile almost permanently etched onto your face.

You pulled away but sank into his open arms. You relished how securely he held you. "I'm so happy," you said aloud, truly meaning it for the first time in a long time, though it was only meant to be an inner thought.

Peter kissed your forehead and looked down to meet your eyes, "I'll never stop making you happy, Y/N."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

[wintersoldiersoul]

hey dear ❤️ I maybe thought of an imagine with Bucky where you're on a mission in the mountains but due to the weather you need to stay in a little cabin for the night but it's terribly cold. He lights a fire but then he offers you his sweater. You're both getting closer (you have a crush as well on each other), so you kinda forget about the mission and just enjoy the time together as you also share a meaningful kiss?

Keep Me Warm

A/N: I changed up the timeline of this a tiny bit but the main idea is still there! I hope you enjoy!!

The mission had been long and grueling. You and Bucky have spent nearly a week in the mountains trying to take down the enemy. You were exhausted, both physically and mentally. Finally, you had gotten the call that you could come home. You were so excited to be back home in the compound, sleeping in your own comfy bed.

“Excited to go home, Y/N?” Bucky asked. 

You rubbed your hands together, trying to keep warm while you waited for the jet. “Can’t wait. I’m looking forward to a nice hot shower and sleeping in my bed.”

He smiled. There was no better thing in the world than him smiling. You tried to keep your crush on him at bay, knowing he’d never feel the same way about you, but damn was it hard. His blue eyes were so mesmerizing and his smile could wake a goddamn army. He was just so perfect.

You smiled back, hoping that he assumed that the blush on your cheeks was from the cold and not from him.

His phone rang and he answered, hoping it would be an update on how far the jet was. “Hey Steve,” Bucky said into the device. “Shit, really? Yeah, yeah, that’s fine,” he sighed. “Yup. I’ll check back when we’re there. Bye.” He hung up and looked at you. “Bad news. There’s a bad storm coming and the jet can’t fly. We’re gonna have to stay here another night.”

“Fuckk,” you threw your head back in frustration. You had spent the entire mission hiding in safe house to safe house, all of them in secluded areas where you couldn’t be found. Sometimes if you were lucky, you got to stay in nicer places with actual beds and furniture. But due to the sensitive nature of this mission, that hadn't been the case. The thought of spending another night in one of those places nearly made you cry. 

“Good news is that Steve said there’s a cabin not too far. It’s still nothing fancy, but he said its an upgrade to what we’ve been in. We should be safe now that we’ve, you know, taken down the enemy,” he smiled warmly, trying to get you to stay positive. 

“Oh, that's good,” you responded. “Let’s go, then.” 

The two of you had to trudge through the snow to get there. The walk ended up being nearly 2 hours and you couldn’t feel your body by the time you arrived. The cabin was small, with only one bedroom, a living room, a small kitchen, and a bathroom.

“Shit, you’re shivering,” Bucky noted when you got inside.

“Yeah, how are you not?” 

He shrugged. “It’s the serum. I’m still cold, don’t get me wrong, but it makes it a lot harder for me to be cold. Even in freezing weather.”

“Must be n-nice,” you mumbled through chattering teeth. “I get cold so easily. Any time it’s below 50 degrees I can’t f-feel my t-toes.”

“Go take a hot shower, okay? I’ll try to see if there’s any food I can make for us.” 

You nodded, going to the bathroom to take a shower. You took your time, rejoicing in the hot water as you washed all of the dirt off of your skin. When you got out, you rummaged through your bag trying to find a sweatshirt but it seemed to have disappeared. “Fuck,” you whispered. You must have left it at the last safe house. You threw on a t-shirt and sweats, still shivering as you made your way into the kitchen.

“Is the heat on?” You asked Bucky.

“I think it’s broken. I was playing around with it but it doesn’t seem to be doing anything.”

You rubbed your hands over your arms, trying to get warm. “Shit, I think I left my sweatshirt at the last safe house.” 

 “Doll, you’re gonna freeze,” he said sympathetically. “Here.” In one fell-swoop he ripped off the gray cable knit sweater that he had on. “I just put it on when we got here so it’s clean.”

“Buck, I don’t want you to be cold, though,” you protested, despite how cozy the sweater looked. 

He swatted a hand. “Remember, I don’t get too cold. Don’t worry about me. You’re gonna turn into an ice block soon.”

You smiled, graciously. “Thanks.” You pulled the sweater over your head, immediately enthralled by his scent. The fabric smelled like musky vanilla and pine, the scent that you had come to associate with him. It smelled like home. 

“I was able to find some soup,” he said, holding out a bowl for you. “Maybe it will help warm you up.” 

“Thank you, Buck.” You sat down and began to eat.

“Lemme see if I can get a fire started,” he got up and walked over to the fireplace. You watched him as he threw wood into a pile, entranced by his muscles flexing each time he picked up another piece. Between the serum, the metal arm, and the fact that he was just so in shape, he did it all with ease, not even flinching at the weight. How could you not fall for the guy just a little bit? 

“You alright over there?” He smirked at you, noticing your eyes on him.

Shit, get it together, Y/N, you thought. “Oh, sorry, just zoning out,” you tried to cover. 

Within a few minutes, he had a roaring fire emanating heat throughout the room. But it still wasn’t enough to keep you warm over by the table you were still sitting at. 

“Come over here,” he encouraged. “It's nice and warm by the fire.”

You stood up and made your way over to the couch so that you could feel the heat of the fire better. “Oh, that’s nice,” you hummed, feeling the embers warming your body. Bucky crept up beside you sitting down and rubbing his flesh arm over yours.

“You’re fucking freezing. I can feel how cold you are through the sweater,” he whispered. He was so close to you. “Lemme hold you. Warm you up a bit.”

“Um,” you cleared your throat, heart rate speeding up. “O-okay. Yeah, sure.” 

He laughed quietly before pulling you so you were laying back against him. “Damn, I feel bad that you’re so cold,” he said, voice holding sympathy and care.

“It’s not your fault, Buck. You’re already doing a lot to try to help.”

The next words he said were something you never thought you’d hear. “Maybe I should never let you go. Just keep holding you like this forever.”

“What?” Did you hear him right? Did he really just say that? He laughed lightly. “Would you like that?”

“Bucky, I-um…” you felt so flustered. Was he just messing with you?

“Come on, Doll,” he smiled. “I don’t know how much more obvious I can make it that I’m kinda in love with you. And I think…” he said, putting his mouth close to your ear. “You might feel the same way about me.”

“Bucky,” you whispered, the feeling of him speaking into your ear sending chills through your body. 

“If I’m reading it totally wrong that’s okay. But I can’t hide how I feel anymore, Y/N. You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. I couldn’t even talk to you for like 3 months because I got so flustered around you. Then we did start talking and I found out that you were also the most interesting, intelligent, kind person I’ve ever met. So tell me, please. Do you feel the same way?”

Your heart pounded. How was this happening? “Yes, Bucky. I-I feel the same way.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Can you turn around so I can kiss you?”

You quickly flipped your body so you were lying on him, face to face. He pulled your mouth to his, quickly inserting his tongue into your mouth. It was so much better than you had imagined, and you had spent a lot of time fantasizing about kissing him. 

“Y/N,” he said, resting his forehead against yours. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” He ran his hand up and down your back as he spoke. “You’re so amazing.”

“I’ve been dreaming about that for a while too, Buck,” you laughed, enjoying his embrace. “You know,” you spoke, voice in a teasing tone. “There’s only one bed in here. We might have to put it to good use.”

Within a second, Bucky picked you up and carried you to the bedroom.

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

No Pain, No Gain | Part 1 | PersonalTrainer!Aemond x fem!reader

Summary: The personal trainer your roommate Baela recommended to you is rude, condescending but also hot as hell. Series Masterlist.

A/N: shoutout to my personal trainer Alex for rotting my brain. This is my first modern!Aemond fic, so any feedback is genuinely appreciated, I hope you enjoy this, it was an absolute ball to write (and there will be more!)

Also I could not post this without tagging some absolute modern!Aemond QUEENS who inspired me to write this. @valeskafics @oneeyedvisenya @sapphire-writes​ you’re the real ones! Also massive hug to @ewanmitchellcrumbs​ for hyping me up and being a parent to this child she didn't choose to create.

warnings: EVENTUAL SMUT, 18+, sexual tension, binge eating, mentions of breakup, cursing, dickhead Aemond, reader is horny af, English slang (soz), warnings will be added when needed

To say you were broken-hearted would be a bit of an understatement.

You were angry, annoyed, frustrated, wound up tight and pissed off to the highest degree.

And it showed in how you acted these days as you polished off the salty family-size bag of crisps on your own in 10 minutes flat.

You look over at your phone and sigh when you see it’s already 6 o’clock in the afternoon. Another day sat on the sofa, wallowing in self-pity, eating yourself into oblivion and fairly soon pouring a glass of Baela’s finest white wine (now that it was officially almost evening anyway and it was justified).

Scrolling through instagram was like twisting the dagger that was already in your chest. All that stupid fucking app could show you was ‘ex in the bar with his new girlfriend’, ‘ex in the drive-thru with his new girlfriend’, ‘ex on the beach with his new girlfriend’.

It made you want to throw your phone directly at the wall. But you settled for squeezing the life out of it, imagining it was your ex’s stupid face instead.

The absolute waste of space had broken up with you over text on the night you were supposed to go out on a date. And as if that was not bad enough, not even two weeks had gone by before he’d managed to stick his dick into someone else with a pulse. At the time, you were so angry that you didn’t accuse him of anything, he’d already broken up with you. But you did suspect that this ‘sudden’ relationship he’d gotten into wasn’t as recent as first thought. 

It’s been a month since you found out about the other woman.

And clearly you were coping really well.

Indulging wasn’t something you usually did, but now you feel you deserved it. 

“Hello~” the soft, ringing voice of your roommate Baela was at the door. You half-considered hiding all the packets of various foods you’d managed to stuff down your gob, but Baela had seen worse of you. She’d seen you while you were throwing your guts up after freshers week at university. Nothing was worse than that and you shuddered at the memory.

She walks in, looking more put together than you by a long way, having been hanging out with her sister all day. That’s what you like about Baela, she’s not judgemental, and so when she sees you’ve barely moved an inch she just flashes her usual smile.

“Good day then?” she says with a smirk. You raise your eyebrows in return.

“Apart from seeing him plastered all over instagram I’m great” 

“Got any left?” she asks, extending a greedy hand for a crisp. You offer her the bag with a sigh as she slumps on the sofa next to you. She watches boredly whatever you have on the TV,

"Why don't you just block him?" She asks. And to be fair, she has a point.

But you huff and shove another crisp in your mouth, whining, "Cos I'm a nosy bitch with no boundaries"

Baela sighs, pulling out her own phone and scrolling through her notifications, "As much as I love you y/n, this is pathetic, even for you"

You'd be offended if she wasn't completely right. And you know she's only half joking so you just shrug.

"How was Rhaena?" You ask.

"Yeah fine, usual shit with Dad. Oh I didn't tell you-" she starts.

She has that glint in her eye which spells trouble. She's got gossip and you raise your eyebrows in anticipation.

"Hold that thought, wine first?"

"Obviously"

After giggling and waltzing over to the counter to pour two glasses of the finest box wine you could get for under seven English pounds, you hand her one and wait almost too excitedly for her to spill whatever sweet gossip she has.

She sips it, almost like she needs the liquid courage to begin, and she hisses at the sweet, acidic taste.

"God that's foul" 

"It was 2 for 1!" You retort with a laugh, but she is right, it does taste foul, "Stop stalling, tell me tell me tell me" 

She looks at you as if to say bitch, you are not fucking ready.

“Dad’s married Rhaenyra” 

The force of which your jaw drops open is almost comical. You’d guessed for a while that they were at least fucking, but to just elope?!

“I need money, cos I betted on this shit happening!” 

“Oh my gosh, Rhaena was fucking hysterical. Jace and Luke aren’t surprised at all, but Alicent is beside herself in the family group chat, it should honestly be a reality TV show” Baela says scrolling through said group chat. From what you can see without being too nosy, is that there’s a lot of long paragraphs and angry emojis.

“What about Viserys, surely he’s…” you ask, trailing off to sip the pissy wine in your hands.

“Oh no, he’s thrilled. Which pisses Alicent off even more if that’s possible”

“Baela I think your Uncle’s gone insane” you bite your lip to stifle a laugh.

“No fucking kidding”

You slump back onto the sofa, “Holy shit, I am a genius. I knew the whole time” you say, smirking in victory.

“And so humble too” Baela gives a sarcastic grin which you return.

“How do you feel about it?”

Baela shucks her phone onto the coffee table, sighing, “Not bothered, we’re all adults now, so it hardly makes a difference to me. Suppose it’ll get Dad to stop bringing back random women now” she says exasperated, “but Rhaenyra gets the impression we’re all really bothered so she’s invited us all to a retreat for a week. Think she just wants to butter us up for marrying our Dad”

“Oh? Anywhere nice?”

Baela looks over, giving you a wearied look.

“What?”

“Well that brings me to you”

“Oh god, what” you ask, dropping the tone to emphasise the seriousness of the talk all of a sudden.

Baela fiddles with the remote, in an attempt to appear cute, “Well~ There’s a spare ticket going and you’re my bestest friend. And I would hate to endure a week of watching my Dad eat Rhaenyra’s face off, so come with me please?” she begs.

You sigh, “Baela usually I would love to sponge off you like that but-”

“Pleasepleaseplease~” she begs, “Rhaena’s bringing her boyfriend and we’re basically together!” 

You fake a gagging sound.

“Oh come on, a week on a beach in bikinis,sweltering weather with as many cocktails as you can hold isn’t exactly torture”

You give her an incredulous look, opening your arms to emphasise all the bags of junk food around you, “Do I look beach body ready to you?!”

“Oh fuck off, you’re hot and have an ass that can keep the world fed” 

“I know I am hot, I just don’t feel hot” you stare blankly at the TV, trying to ignore her and stuff another crisp into your mouth.

Baela sighs, “I was just thinking it would be a nice distraction, that’s all” 

“I want to it’s just…” you start, trying to think of the right words, “...I don’t feel my best”

Baela gives you a playful slap on your arm, “Look, forget your ex, he’s dumb as fuck and it’s not solving anything by staying inside with the curtains drawn all day. If you want to feel better, might be worth taking care of yourself a bit, hm?” 

Fuck her, you think, rolling your eyes, she’s right.

You hate how often she’s right. Because she gets that look on her face when she is. Always has done.

“How about that gym membership you’ve not used since February?” she asks,

“Okay firstly, ouch. Secondly, I realised I don’t know the first thing about how to work out in a gym, besides the guys there were…weird”

You shudder at the thought. It was January and so all the new year’s resolution guys were at it in full swing, using the gym as a means to try and pick up girls. And since graduating you find that more often than not the guys who hit on you were students. Maybe it was different now?

Baela pokes her cheek with her tongue, racking her brain.

“One of my cousins is a personal trainer? I could text him to see if he’s happy to take you on. Mates rates” she smiles.

You side-eye her hard. You’ve heard briefly about her cousins. Some of the stories are a bit more…eccentric than others. And even though you’ve never met them, you’ve heard enough stories to satisfy your curiosity. 

“This isn’t the manwhore cousin, right? Because if it is then no” 

She scoffs, “No. Aegon hasn’t set food in a gym since graduating and he only went cos it was free. The personal trainer one is Aemond. He’s a bit…anti-social?” she pulls a face when she says it.

“He’s anti-social and he’s a personal trainer?” you ask, eyebrow raised, “makes so much sense”

Baela scrolls through her contacts, “Yeahhh. Don’t worry though, he’s just grumpy” she explains, “want me to text him?”

Your head falls to the edge of the sofa in a huff. You want to go and on top of that, it might be nice to finally have a break. That and you’d love to shove it in your exes face when he sees you’re on holiday looking your hottest. 

“How long ‘til the holiday?”

Baela grins victoriously, “A month and a bit. He does a month course for stuff like this, I can ask him about it”

What the fuck am I getting myself into, you think briefly.

Fuck it.

“Fine”

The force at which Baela’s nails tap against the screen is almost desperate.

Baela snorts a laugh at the message and turns her phone to show you the messages.

“He seems lovely” you roll your eyes sarcastically.

“Like I said, he’s just grumpy. He’ll be professional though” she says.

You sigh, crushing the empty bag of crisps in your hands.

“Can’t wait” 

After following him on instagram, you did a bit of shameless stalking. You’d heard a little bit about Aemond from Baela talking about her family, but he seemed the most mysterious out of all of them (save for the youngest whose name she struggled to even remember). 

He had very little photos of himself, mainly progress pictures of other clients he’s helped. And he seems to be pretty successful so far. A girl with a similar body to you managed to get toned on his one-month program and looked hot afterwards, so you had some high hopes that it was possible for you as well. But you did wonder what he looked like. There were only two photos where he was in frame, and he’d been tagged by another person, looking away from the camera.

From what you could see, he was very tall, lithe and slim but built, with silver hair that had been pulled up into a bun. Ah, so he’s a man-bun type of guy. Yikes. 

Unfortunately, the photo showed very little of his face, so you couldn’t be too nosy.

You sent a very brief message, introducing yourself, trying not to cringe at the idea that he might be doing the exact same stalking to your instagram right at this moment. A shiver went up your spine at the thought. 

It’s only when you’re in TKMaxx with Baela, shopping for gym gear the next day, that you finally get a reply from him. 

“What do you think of just wearing a sports bra?” Baela says, eyeing up a black shirt.

You’re too busy staring at the message, “Hm? Oh, I’d just go in gym leggings and a bra yeah. Just got a reply from your mysterious cousin”

Baela hops over, “What’s he said? Nothing bad I hope” she grins.

 You show her the screen.

Baela raises her eyebrows, “Very formal. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised” she says, seeming surprised that he’s at least cordial.

“It’s very ‘serial-killer-esque’ of him not to have a profile picture” you joke, locking your phone again.

Baela picks out a black gym set. Black leggings with a mesh pocket on the side for your phone and a black sports bra. You nod, “Yeah looks good to me”

“Oh please you’re gonna look hot in this” she smirks, leading you over to the counter to pay.

She rewards you for your efforts by driving you to McDonald's drive-thru. A send off to junk-food so to speak.

And when Monday rolls around, you nod in the mirror. She was right, it does look hot on you. At least in the safety of your flat where there’s nobody to look at you. In a gym, surrounded by other fit people and a personal trainer you’ve never met? It might feel slightly different.

There’s a faint swirl of anxiety in your gut but you pull your trainers on, grab a hair tie from your nightstand and drive to the gym you’ve agreed to meet at. Luckily it’s your local gym, large and packed to the brim with some good equipment at least. And you briefly wonder what kind of workouts you’ll be doing before pulling into the car park.

You see him as soon as you enter the gym. He’s very tall, slender but muscular and fucking gorgeous. What the fuck, is all you can think when you shamelessly scan him from head to toe. Like the pictures, he has his long silver hair in a bun, with a few pieces having come free and falling around his face. His legs are miles long in the black sweats he’s wearing, as well as the black top that sticks a bit too snugly to his front and shoulders, making your mouth water a bit.

And you can’t help but admire his side profile, how his jaw just so naturally and sharply juts into his chin. How his cheekbones sit so prominently and high on his face, framing his features. His sharp, defined nose. And you can’t see from here because he’s looking down at his phone, but his eyelashes are unnaturally long for a man. It’s just unfair, frankly.

Shaking yourself briefly from the trance you were in, you right yourself and approach him.

He looks up to see you before you even have a chance to open your mouth. Now that he's looking at you face on, you can see the shocking blue of his right eye and the paler, soft hue of the other. Not only that but the angry scar that ran down the side of his face, extending from his forehead to the mid part of his cheek, straight through the eye.

You look at it for a split second, surmising that perhaps he's partially sighted or blind in that eye. But you choose not to say anything and instead smile with an awkward wave.

"Hey, you must be Aemond"

He openly drags his eyes over you, from head to toe, just like you did a moment ago without his knowledge. But now that you're standing right in front of him, in the gym gear that you totally don't feel a bit self conscious in, it feels a bit weird.

He doesn't reply for a moment.

"I'm y/n" you say, forcing a smile to your nervous face.

"Hm" he responds lowly, "Baela's friend" 

You pull an awkward face and nod.

You feel so stupidly small against this absolute giraffe of a man and you daren't step forward any more, for fear of looking even smaller under his judgemental and indifferent gaze.

He sighs and gestures for you to follow him, seeming disinterested as he looks down at his phone. For a brief second you wonder how this guy keeps his clients if he's this rude, but you shake the thought away, not wanting to judge too quickly.

He leads you into one of the consultation rooms, separate from the rest of the gym. He sits on one of the seats, sighing as if he's had the hardest day in the world and taking a swig of water from his bottle.

Sat across from him, you feel a bit small under his gaze. He's quite intimidating, you now find.

"Have you ever worked out before" he asks flatly.

You shrug, "I've tried I guess, but never super seriously" you laugh awkwardly, but he doesn't return it.

He runs his eyes over you again, as if to say yeah I can see that.

"Stand up. Shoes off. We're going to take your weight and measurements" he orders, going to his bag to grab some things.

It's beyond awkward and quiet in the room with him as he idly takes down your weight, height and current eating habits, which you've had to be more honest about than you'd cared to admit.

Standing in the middle of the room, he twirls his measuring tape on his fingers. He measures your upper body first, which isn't too bad until he gets to your bust. You try and look anywhere else in the room while he measures across it, his fingers landing softly at either arm, taking a note of the measurement. You internally scold yourself, he is so much taller and surely must be able to see right down the sports bra. It only serves to make your face heat up with embarrassment.

If that wasn't enough, he gets to your lower body, measuring your hips and then thighs. He gets to his knees to do it and you resist the urge to pull your hands into fists at the proximity of him to your intimate area, separated only by a thin pair of gym leggings and underwear.

He doesn't seem to bother himself with the awkwardness. And every time you look at his face, he seems indifferent, bored even. Even then, his face is unnaturally beautiful, even with the scar.

He must really not like people.

Aemond sighs having taken all his notes.

"We'll do one training session and see how much weight we can do" he instructs. You nod.

"I expect you to be in the gym four times a week, three in the week and once at the weekend. We'll do one session together a week so I can check your progress" 

His tone is so flat, all you can do is nod. He looks at you,

"Got it?" 

Your cheeks heat up, "Um, yeah"

"Good"

He leads you outside to the actual gym floor which luckily isn't too busy, side-eyeing you massively when you pull your hair up into a ponytail to get it off your neck.

His large form leads you over to where the mats are kept, haphazardly throwing two to the floor.

He doesn't say anything past one or two word commands and it's incredibly difficult to not look in the mirror in front of you to watch him as he stretches. The way he stretches his arms over his head and it lifts the hem of his shirt a little, showing his happy trail, biceps rippling.

And when he does leg stretches, instructing you to do the same, you can't help but stare at how his thighs are basically bulging out from his sweats. It takes all of your strength and will to not look any higher than that towards his hips.

He watches your form as you try and copy him stretching. And your heart almost leaps into your chest when he uses his hand to move your ankle slightly, so that you put pressure on a certain muscle. But he focuses completely, professional.

Fuck, be professional.

All caution is thrown completely to the wind when he gets you on machines. He demonstrates some of them first, starting with the so-called 'easier' ones, like the inner and outer thigh machines that look way too…suggestive.

Of course, he's got it on a ridiculous weight to demonstrate which makes you scoff a bit. And when you get on the inner thigh machine, it locks into place with your legs spread. You thank every god there is that there's no mirror in front of you on this machine.

"You have to start with your legs spread as much as possible" he states simply, pushing the pads against your legs even further. It makes your eyes widen, sinful thoughts pop up in your head. But before they take root you shake them away.

It's ridiculously hard the first few times and he raises an eyebrow.

"Really?" He mocks a bit, the tiniest of smirks on his face "you're only on 14kg" 

"Fuck off" you mutter under your breath. He tuts and changes it to 9kg, bruising your ego a bit. But you finish the set nonetheless.

You think he's a bit of a psycho, because after that little remark he has you on every leg machine available. Making fun every time you have to be on the lowest weight.

After the session, you're aching in places you didn't even know existed and you haven't even rested yet. Knowing full well you'll be achy as fuck tomorrow and even wlrse than right now. The faintest sheen of sweet is visible on your pinkened chest.

"You're weaker than I thought" 

He runs his long fingers through his hair and you want to slap that stupid fucking self-indulgent look off his smug face seeing you all out of puff like this.

"Thanks, means a lot" you say sarcastically, drinking from a water bottle. He raises an eyebrow at the attitude.

"I'll send you your workout plan. If you have any issues do me a favour and don't bother me with them" he retorts.

"Charming" you mutter under your breath once he's gone past you. You watch as he walks away, briefly appreciating his broad shoulders, until the sour taste of his poor behaviour settles in. And you huff, texting Baela immediately.

You curse every god there is that you drive a manual car, because right now the thought of having your aching leg pressing on the clutch pedal might actually drive you to mass-murder.

This is going to be a long month.

Taglist: @mrsgrwy @lovelykhaleesiii

[dystopicjumpsuit]

The Night Before Someday

A/N: Happy (slightly belated) birthday to my dearest @wings-and-beskar! I wrote you some smut. 💛

Pairing: Cody x Reader (GN)

Rating: M - Minors DNI

Wordcount: 1.6K

Warnings and tags: fluff; roofies mentioned in passing; somebody other than Cody tries to hit on you; SMUT; oral sex; teasing; minor dom/sub dynamics; orgasm delay; established secret/forbidden relationship.

Summary: Did you read “Someday” and feel a burning desire to know what happened the night before? Look no further! This is that fic.

Suggested listening:

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79’s was hot, loud, and crowded. The heavy beat of dance music pulsated through the dense, smoky air of the club. The 212th was on shore leave, and you could swear that all 42,000 troopers in the battalion were currently either in line for the bar or grinding on the dance floor. You weren’t the only nat-born officer in the place, but you still stood out in the sea of clones, and every so often a drunken trooper would hoot your name or cheer raucously as you passed.

The energy was frenetic. To tell the truth, dance clubs weren’t really your usual scene, but it was the first night of leave, and it was expected that the senior command staff would put in an appearance. It wasn’t so bad, though; the troopers were rowdy but unfailingly respectful, and as you headed back to your table after braving the line at the bar for a refill, one of your very favorite trios found you and pulled you inexorably into their orbit. 

“Didn’t think we’d see you here tonight, Major,” Wooley said as he slung his arm over your shoulders with an easy (if somewhat wobbly) smile.

“Why not?” you asked.

“Figured you’d have somethin’ better to do than hang out with the same faces you see all day every day,” Waxer grinned.

“What could possibly be better than this?” you asked, gesturing at the sticky, sweaty crowd.

“Probably just about any nat-born cantina,” Boil replied.

“Oh, we have more than our share of shitty dives,” you replied. “Plus my chances of having my drink roofied are probably lower here than just about any bar in the galaxy.”

“‘Specially with us watching your back,” Wooley said. He was slurring his words a bit, and his arm was ridiculously heavy on your shoulders, but you had a feeling his night was just getting started.

“Surprised you aren’t at the table with the rest of the command staff,” Boil remarked.

“I was on my way back when you waylaid me,” you laughed.

“Eh, we’re more fun anyway,” Waxer said with a charming smile.

Privately, you couldn’t help but agree, not that you would ever, ever say it out loud. Waxer, Boil, and Wooley didn’t have to worry about presenting a dignified facade the way the senior officers—including you—did. 

You drew a breath to reply, and suddenly, a Mirialan tripped and stumbled into you. She righted herself quickly, apologizing profusely in an Outer-Rim trade language. You replied fluently in the same language, reassuring her and asking if she was all right. She nodded and excused herself quickly, and as she left, you checked to make sure she hadn’t swiped your credits.

“Kriff, it’s hot when you do that,” Wooley said, leaning a little closer to your ear.

“What, check to make sure someone didn’t rip me off?” you laughed.

“No, when you speak Sy Bisti or whatever that was,” he replied.

“Meese Caulf,” you said.

“I don’t know how the commander keeps his hands off you when you’re translating for him,” Wooley said a little over-loudly.

Yeah, he’s definitely had enough to drink, you thought.

If you were honest, you liked Wooley just fine. He was sweet and funny, he had great hair, and he looked like… well… a clone trooper. Enough said. You might have considered reciprocating his interest if it weren’t for two very important factors. One: you outranked him by several degrees, and you’d have felt weird about it even if it weren’t officially forbidden for you to fraternize with him. Ironic, all things considered. 

Two—

“Because I don’t fancy a court martial, and I suspect the major doesn’t either, so I’d suggest you keep your hands to yourself,” a voice said from just behind you.

His tone was mild, but all four of you snapped to attention instinctively, and Wooley dropped his arm and put several inches in between himself and you for good measure.

“Yes, sir! Sorry, sir,” Wooley said sheepishly.

“I’m not the one you should be apologizing to,” Commander Cody replied. 

“Er, sorry, Major,” Wooley mumbled.

You kept a perfectly straight face as you reassured Wooley, then extricated yourself from the group and made your way back to the command staff’s table with Cody. 

Once you were out of earshot, you asked, “Court martial? Don’t you think that’s a bit excessive?”

Cody arched a quizzical brow. “Just looking out for my officers.”

“Careful, Commander. People might start thinking you have an interest beyond strict professionalism.”

Under the guise of steering you around a group of rowdy, drunken troopers, Cody rested his hand on your lower back, and you felt his fingertips graze your bare skin, just beneath the hem of your shirt.

“We can’t have that,” he murmured. He leaned in slightly to whisper in your ear. “I wish I could dance with you.”

You suppressed a smile. “How much longer do we need to keep up this charade before we sneak back to my flat?”

“One more drink ought to do it,” he said. 

You glanced down at your cocktail. “Mine’s already half gone. I’ll leave first so nobody suspects.”

“You know, Wooley was right about one thing. You are hot as kriff.” He pressed his fingers into your back gently, then withdrew his hand as you approached the table where the rest of the senior command waited. “Door code still the same?”

“Always.”

You were in the kitchen chugging the galaxy’s largest glass of water when you heard the front door swish open. By the time it closed again, you were already in Cody's arms. As your lips met, he picked you up and spun you around until you shrieked with laughter. When he set you down, he held you steady until you regained your footing, then slid his hand up your back to hold your head as he leaned his forehead against yours and took a deep, slow breath in and out.

“Hello,” you smiled.

“Hello,” he replied. “I missed you.”

“It's only been an hour,” you pointed out.

“An eternity.” He kissed along your jaw until he reached your ear, whispering, “A lifetime.”

You shivered as his breath tingled across your skin. “Welcome home.”

A quiet rumble of pleasure sounded in his chest at your words. “Let's go to bed.”

“Tired?” you teased.

He slid his hands down your body to grip your ass, pulling you hard against him. “Not even a little bit.”

That’s a kriffing lie, you thought, knowing exactly how busy and exhausted he was, but you weren’t about to call him on it when his lips tasted so perfect, and his body felt so strong and solid and warm, and his hands roamed over you, touching and teasing and exploring. You didn’t even notice that he was expertly guiding you backward through your flat until he leaned you slowly back onto your mattress.

“Excellent diversionary tactics, Commander,” you said as he kissed down your throat and sternum, deftly unbuttoning your top as he progressed.

“Mm,” he murmured, unzipping your trousers and sliding them down your hips. “That’s Marshal Commander.”

Your laugh turned into a gasp as he tugged your underwear out of the way and his tongue caressed your skin. 

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous,” he whispered, gazing up your body as he stroked his fingers over you softly. He trailed kisses down your pelvis and swirled his tongue over your sex. “I could never taste you enough.”

Oh, gods, but he tried. He devoured you with all the skill and passion of a man deprived too long. He took his time, luxuriating in your smooth skin, your warmth, your scent, your taste, your quiet moans, your desperate whimpers, your frantic squirming beneath his lovely mouth. 

Ever the strategist, he used every tool at his disposal in his relentless pursuit of your pleasure: fingers, tongue, lips—even his teeth: grazing them gently across your tender flesh, then smoothing his tongue over you in soft, comforting strokes. He drew you closer and closer to your climax, refusing to hurry, even when your whimpers and moans gave way to pleading and sobbing as heat pulsed relentlessly through your veins, so close: so close, and yet just out of reach. 

And then—he stopped.

You nearly screamed in frustration. “Damn it, Cody!”

“Manners,” he chided.

You growled. “I am going to get revenge for this.”

“I have no doubt,” he replied, kissing you softly and then brushing his thumb over his swollen lips. “Now ask nicely.”

You gritted your teeth and took a deep breath. “Please, sir, will you let me come?”

He gave you a devilish smile and lowered his head back down to your body, devouring you with renewed enthusiasm, and within seconds, he brought you to the precipice.

“Please, please, please,” you chanted.

He groaned, a deep, gravelly sound that vibrated on your skin, and with a dexterous movement of his fingers, he pushed you over the edge. You let out a hoarse cry, for once not concerned about keeping your volume down, as your hips thrust up off the mattress. He pressed you back down as he kept going, eagerly taking everything you had to give, until you were twitching and writhing helplessly beneath him.

At last, when he’d wrung every last drop of pleasure from your body, you fell back, breathing hard as you slowly relaxed against the pillows. He looked up at you with a self-satisfied grin, and you narrowed your eyes vindictively. Wrapping your legs around him, you flipped both of you over so he was lying on his back beneath you, gazing up at you with blatant adoration.

“My turn,” you murmured.

Didn't read "Someday"? It's here, and it's fluffy as hell!

[dreamsontheirway]

Ain't Easy | J.M.

Summary: in which you have an asthma attack, but JJ is there to help you. Warnings: description of asthma attack Word Length: 1.4k Abbreviations: Y/N = your name, Y/N/N = your nickname

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You had suffered with asthma for as long as you could remember, but it was mostly manageable at this point in your life. You had a couple inhalers that you carried around when you remembered, but you rarely had to use them anymore.

JJ had witnessed you have an asthma attack only once before. It was when you were running away from Rafe and the physical exertion had gotten to you. Luckily, you two were able to hide out of view and you pointed towards your backpack, guiding JJ to place the inhaler against your lips. He had been frantic, his eyes wide and terrified. After you caught your breath again, you reassured him that you were alright. He insisted that you teach him what to do if, god forbid, this happened again. You had taught him the basics, and he listened intently with caring blue eyes.

This was several months ago, and you had yet to have another one since. One thing many people don’t know about asthma, is that it can be caused by many things other than physical exertion. Asthma attacks can be triggered by allergies, pollen, dry air, humidity, and even storms.

Unfortunately for you, the others had chosen a very humid day for a much needed, relaxing boat trip. Relaxation was the goal, at least, but this humidity was making it difficult. You felt like you were trying to breathe in something solid, rather than air. At least you and everyone else were suffering together.

"Ugh," Kiara exasperated. "It's so gross I am literally sticking to my shorts." She pulled at her ripped jean shorts and sure enough, they peeled up as if they were stuck with tape.

You sat in the back of the boat, fanning yourself with a magazine and wiping the back of your neck, feeling it slick with sweat. The attempts to cool yourselves were futile. No matter how many times you splashed into the water you still seemed to dry off instantly, the scorching sun blazing on you and your friends.

"Should we jump in again?" Offered Pope, whose sweat was glistening on his forehead.

"Yes please," JJ countered, taking his flip flops off in preparation.

"I'm gonna stay here," Sarah spoke, pulling her dirty blonde hair up into a bun.

"Me too," you agreed. "Feels pointless. I might go in again later, though."

"Suit yourself," JJ winked at you and leapt into the twinkling water below. The others followed suit, causing a few stray beads of water to spray on your legs.

"Want a drink?" Sarah asked, peeling herself from the sticky boat seat and drifting towards the cooler.

"Yeah, just a beer is fine, thanks," you muttered, beginning to feel a light stinging in your chest.

She handed the cold can to you, and you smiled in appreciation before opening it and taking a sip in hopes it would calm your quickly beating heart and heavy breathing. You breathed out; it came out shaky and unsure.

"You okay?" Sarah offered, peering at you from under light lashes as she dug through her backpack for her phone. Finding it, she sat down next to you.

"Yeah," you choked out. "It's just so hot." You laughed, trying to ease the worry in your chest.

"I know, right," Sarah started. "It's at least like 95 degrees right now. I've never wanted AC so bad, like..."

Sarah's voice seemed to trail off and dissipate as your throat began tightening, strangling you. You gasped, trying to find air to fill your dry airways.

"Y/N?"

Sarah's face appeared in front of you. You couldn't hear her through the ringing in your ears, but you read your name on her lips.

"Inh-" you tried to speak, but only a squeak was able to come out from your sun-baked lips.

Sarah looked confused; she didn't understand what you were trying to say to her. Then it hit you. You had forgotten to pack your inhaler today. Shit! Usually, you were more careful than this, but when you had an attack maybe once every 6 months, it was easy to let it slip your mind.

Sarah noticed your eyes widen, hers becoming frantic. What is happening? Is she having a panic attack? She thought to herself.

"J-" you choked out, hoping Sarah would understand. She did.

"JJ? You want JJ?" She popped up then, dashing to the other end of the boat.

"JJ!" She hollered, desperately.

"What?" JJ said casually; he was floating on his back in the water. "I'm relaxing."

"JJ, it's Y/N! Hurry!"

This got JJ's attention. He crawled up the boat ladder swiftly, racing towards you.

"Baby?" He probed, blue eyes wide in worry. Then he realized -- he had seen this reaction from you before. You were having an asthma attack.

"Where's your inhaler?" He urged you, lake water dripping from his strands of blonde hair and onto the floor of the boat. Both his large hands were placed on either side of your arms.

"I don't," you choked out, "have it."

"Shit," JJ hollered, looking away for a moment. Then his face lit up. "Hold on."

He began rifling through his backpack that was sat next to yours and pulled out a small object. Your extra inhaler. He had it?

"Here baby," he cooed, holding the medicine up to your dry lips, willing you to breathe it in.

It took a couple pumps of the contraption for you to start to breathe normally again. JJ stroked the sides of your arms with his damp hands and watched you intently. The others had made their way back onto the boat, watching silently, concerned for you.

You sighed loudly, finally able to catch your breath. You leaned your head back against the edge of the boat behind you.

"You're okay," JJ spoke softly, pulling the stray strands of hair away from your face. He recalled from the last attack that you lost all your energy from the exertion it took to try to breathe.

You coughed then, your head shooting up. You leaned forward, your elbows resting on your thighs. JJ's hand reached up to rub your back soothingly, and he looked at the others as someone spoke.

"Is she-" Kiara's voice spoke.

"She's fine," JJ barked, knowing you didn't want to be pitied, "just give her a second."

As a child, you had asthma attacks more frequently. You could still feel the sorrowful gazes from your classmates throughout grade school and you hated it. You were a strong person, and you didn't want your asthma to define you in the way that it once had.

"Thank you." You were finally able to choke out a coherent reply to your caring boyfriend, who still sat, crouched in front of you.

"Yeah," he grinned lopsidedly at you, a smile you adored more than practically anything else in the world. "Do you need anything?"

You ignored his question, your own suddenly returning to you.

"Why did you have my extra inhaler?"

"Oh," he started, "I hope you don't mind. I snagged it from your place. I figured it might come in handy." He grinned again, a subtle nod to your current state, and wiggled the inhaler in his hand.

Tears pricked your eyes.

"Fuck, thank you," you muttered. You felt grateful, but also guilty that your boyfriend had to be the one to take care of you. "God, how did I forget it the one day I needed it? I'm so stupid!"

"Hey, hey," he became more serious, but still had his typical joking undertone. "C'mon, Y/N/N. You barely get 'em anymore. We just gotta make sure at least one of us has one for ya from now on."

You groaned, knowing he was right, but you still felt so stupid. JJ could tell.

"C'mere," he declared, and plopped down next to you. He wrapped his arm around you and kissed your temple.

"Ew, you're gross and sweaty," you blanched dramatically, pulling away.

"Is that any way to talk to me?" He joked, pulling you closer. "Look, I know it ain't easy bein' wheezy, but I kind of saved your life."

You groaned playfully and leaned your head into the crook of his neck. Luckily, the rest of the group had resumed their normal pursuits, leaving you to relax against JJ and get some much-needed rest. His other hand rubbed your thigh comfortingly as the boat advanced back towards the mainland.

-----

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[f4nd0m-fun]

@puppetmaster13u

It was getting too long so...

Okay this was VERY long but I love it all. So much food, and very much alive when possible. And yeah they're very much venomous.

... oh gods you're making me hungry for food that isn't even safe even if it existed 😂

Also, I feel like Ivy's plants would, ah, sometimes move if they don't like where they're currently planted. If your neighbor is taking better care of your flowers then you might wake up and see them over there, you just learn to deal. 😅

Ooooo I love that. And I feel like, to Aquaman, it would be like speaking in Pig Latin + Esperanto mixed with the heaviest Scottish accent ever. He can tell it's words, but he can't really understand it.

Also, Bruce singing lullabies to the kids, just imagine. Jason or Dick or anyone shows up having a panic attack and Bruce starts calming them down. First in English, then aquatic, and slowly morphing into a lullaby.

Oh definitely, those other heroes will be struggling. Almost feel bad for them.

The medical professionals must be paid well, and Gotham University probably ends up with a very heavy metal degree that most people might assume is for vets not human doctors. 😂

Oh my gods Helena yes. Poor Supes, and I love the JL freaking out. Also, her bottle HAS to be a little pink, because of the blood that's probably in it. Also, I imagine they're born with weak venom, and drinking their parents' blood lets them process and produce stronger toxins.

I bet Dick and the other kids probably have the same weird food habits and their teammates aren't really sure what they're supposed to do. Sometimes Tim will fall asleep in the middle of lunch and whoever is in the same room will get to see his lunch run away. Probably a bit unnerving. 🤣

I like the idea they might do them for 'major holidays'. Not on the holiday, because Calendar Man (on the holidays is Gotham only, they fully expect him to show up, he's practically invited without saying anything outright), and that's the Outsider Galas. Not just one a year, but not like 20 of em either.

And yeah, aside from runaway food, Tim is pretty good with outsiders. He probably wouldn't eat 'normal' (normal for Gotham anyway) around his team if he didn't trust em or something either. This is probably another reason Bruce made him CEO. 😅

Yesss uncanny valley please. Everyone is freaking out internally, and yet at the same time they can tell they're safe... for now. Servers doing their job, and Gothamites not revealing anything, unless someone does something wrong.

Yesss the rogues. Honestly I just want an AU where the rogues are basically family.

||=====||=====||

"Oh yeah that's aunts Harley and Ivy, they can be fun but don't drink the wine."

Then (controversial I know but also heavily depends on the AU)

"That's Uncle J, we're on tense terms with him but he's got the best drinks if you don't mind letting a bit."

Maybe

"There's not-dad Harv-"

"he's Uncle T right now-"

"-that's Uncle T, don't gamble with him or ask about his coin collection unless you want to stay a while."

Or

"Don't mind Uncle Cobbles, he's a little competitive with B about their family histories, but other than that and birds he's pretty calm."

Even

"Yeah don't mind Uncle John, he's probably more nervous than you are, doing spook him and you'll be fine."

||=====||=====||

Yesss so many photos.

Also, there's two wedding photos. One he shows to outsiders, the other is up at the major as a painting and is the same wedding photo but underwater.

... Ras don't bother your son-in-law's friends please, they have enough on their plate. Seriously, stop. 😂😅

Bruce probably confuses everyone even more by knowing the assassins.

Oooo yes. Sharks, aquariums, oh my. I love all the animals you mentioned too.

... so I randomly looked up 'Victorian modern punk' because why not and...

This was the top result.

[five-rivers]

Hunger Chapter 2

“Well, if it's the lone star tick, that only makes you allergic to red meat, right?” said Sam.  

“Yeah, I guess,” said Danny, staring hard at the plate of chicken nuggets Tucker had just pulled from the microwave.  He was also under the impression that the tick thing got you all at once, not gradually if rapidly over the course of a few weeks, with the effects going from thinking meat tasted off, to just ‘not being in the mood’ for it, to actively throwing up upon taking a bite of a hamburger.  

He tried to determine if the faint sense of nausea he felt while looking at the chicken was from his memory or, well, from looking at the chicken.  

“Cheese was fine,” observed Tucker.  “Eggs were fine.”

They had been.  Danny picked up a chicken nuggets and tried to ignore how his skin crawled as he did so.  Before he could double-guess himself, he popped it into his mouth and swallowed as quickly as possible, hardly even chewing.  

His body immediately rebelled.  

Luckily, he had a good mental map of Tucker's house, so he was able to dive through the wall and into the bathroom before he started puking his guts out.  

“Not the tick, then,” said Tucker, sounding like he was going to barf himself.  

“You know,” said Sam, “I'm all for having more vegetarians in the world, but I think you should maybe… see someone about this.”

Danny finished emptying his digestive system and went to the sink to rinse out his mouth.  

“Who?” he asked, tone matching the bitter taste.  “It's not like I can go see a doctor.  Half ghost and all.”

“I know that,” said Sam.  “I meant your ghost friend.  The one that helped you with your other changes.  The freckles and skin color and ghost puberty stuff.”

“Oh,” said Danny.  “I don't really want to bother him too much, though.”

And, when he wasn't actively experiencing the need to be eaten, or the disorienting second childhood that came after, he was rather shy about the whole arrangement.  Understandably so, he thought.  

Sam crossed her arms and stared at him, unimpressed, through the bathroom mirror.

“What happens when this does spread to eggs and cheese?  Or fruit?  Or vegetables?  Would you go see him then?”

Danny grimaced and went ghost, hoping he could get rid of the foul taste in his mouth that way.  If anything, it made it worse.  

“Whoa!  What's that on your back?” asked Tucker, pointing.  

Danny looked back at him, alarmed at the tone of voice, then twisted so he could see his back in the mirror.  Pushing up on his suit from below were two bumps, just under his shoulder blades.  He quickly unzipped and pulled down the top of his suit.  It wasn't something stuck on his back.  It was part of his back.  Two upwards distortions of skin.  

“I don't know,” he said.  He touched one of the tiny knobs.  It was sensitive, though not in a bad way.  On the other hand, it didn't really feel like skin.  More like… petals, maybe.  Soft and silky.  

He swallowed.  As strange as it may sound, being eaten had removed some of the sense of wrongness Danny had felt about his body since the Accident.  But this… this mutation… he didn't know what to do with this.  

But maybe Clockwork would.

.

Half curled in Clockwork's lap, listening to him rhythmically list off things he thought were appetizing, things that Danny could feel his core taking special note of, he didn't know why he'd been so nervous.  

When Clockwork finished his list (which included things like statues, silver, gemstones, the smell of lilacs and lilies, chocolate, vanilla, cream, sugar, and the sound of clocks) Danny looked up.  “So my wings will bloom… like a flower?”

“They tend to be similar in appearance, yes.”

“And my body will change to be tasty.”

“As you ripen.”

“And then you'll eat me, and that's it?  Things will go back to normal?”

“What do you mean by normal?”

“You know.  Like it usually is for me.”

“You will have to grow up again, and when you near ripeness, the wings will grow back, but, to some degree, yes.”  He paused for a moment, playing with Danny's hair.  “Once your wings bloom, you will find yourself compelled to seek out places with high concentrations of ectoplasm, so you can feed.  You may also find yourself losing mobility, either from physical changes or psychological pressure.  At least, those are all things experienced by other ghosts with this adaptation.  I cannot tell you your future, after all.”

Danny wrinkled his nose at the obvious loophole-ing, but pressed on.  “To make it easier for someone to find and eat me.”

“Yes.”

“And this will happen again?”

“It may happen more slowly, if you are not under quite so much pressure to improve, but yes.”  Clockwork started to braid some of Danny's longer hairs. 

“Can I, um, can I come here, when I start to bloom, then?”

“Of course,” said Clockwork.  “I believe the garden will be most suitable, should you feel the need to plant yourself, but your bedroom is also available, and you may choose any space you like.”

Danny hummed.  “And you'll still eat me?”

“Of course.”

Danny's stomach rumbled, jolting him out of his half-doze and reminding him that he'd thrown up everything he'd eaten today.  

He blushed, then blushed harder when he realized that, without his top on, Clockwork could probably see the blush working its way all down Danny's back to the base of his spine.  

Clockwork chuckled.  “Speaking of eating, growing wings is hungry work.  Come.”

Reluctantly, Danny got up and followed Clockwork to the kitchen he had stocked with human things.  Danny hadn't thought about it much, but he must have made it especially for Danny, for when he was growing up again after being eaten.  

Clockwork reached into the fridge and removed a large, clay jug of something, then a smaller glass bottle full of something red like wine.  He examined the bottle for a while.  “I could,” he said, after a moment, “accelerate the growth of your wings.  Just this once.”

“Why only once?”

“The cycle of consumption and regrowth would become unbalanced if done too frequently.  You may eventually wind up growing wings shortly after hatching.”

“Yikes,” said Danny.  “Um.  I think I'll pass this time and just go at the normal rate.”

Clockwork nodded and put the glass bottle away.  Then, from the jug, he poured Danny a cup of what looked a lot like thick paint but smelled so good Danny's mouth was watering before Clockwork even gave it to him.  It tasted a lot like a vanilla milkshake, and as soon as he was done drinking it, he fell asleep.  

.

“He says it's normal,” said Danny.  

“Really?” said Sam, with all the sarcastic bite a goth teenager could manage, which was a lot.  

“The type of ghost I am doesn't eat other ghosts, and since I'm half human, that crosses over to animals.  It's not going to get worse, it's just…” He sighed.  “A thing.”

“And the stuff on your back?” asked Tucker.

“Same kind of thing.  They're like antlers.  They'll fall off eventually.”

“Well,” said Sam, when Danny failed to elaborate, “I can at least give you some vegetarian meal recipes.”

.

Danny found himself eating more sweets.  And more cream.  A lot more cream, since usually he didn't eat any.  He wasn't sure why, since it wasn't like eating those would make him taste like them.  Unless it did?  Ghost logic was strange, sometimes.  

Whatever.  It was food.  It wasn't like he was eating flowers.  

.

The process of growing wings was both painful and satisfying.  Painful, because the growing buds made his back ache in both forms, despite only existing in one.  Satisfying, because the bigger they got the less wrong they felt.  

Like he was growing back into himself.  

.

Okay, so he was eating flowers.  It wasn't like he was eating anyone's jewelry.  

.

He'd thought he'd have to change his jumpsuit to accommodate the wing buds.  He didn't.  His jumpsuit changed on its own, not stretching, but weaving itself over the buds as they grew.  It was like the suit was part of the buds, too, that way.  

Even the seams lined up with the edges of the petals.  

.

He booted Johnny Thirteen from the jewelry store, then froze, looking at the display cases.  His stomach rumbled a little.  

No.  Just, no.  He wasn't an animal.  He had control over himself.  He wasn't doing that.  

.

In the dead of the night, he woke from the kind of deep, heavy sleep he only got when he had truly exhausted himself.  His core sang with resonance.  

With an automatic response that came from being taught it from early childhood twice, Danny rolled out of bed and followed the pull down the stairs and into the basement.  He transformed sluggishly, groaning a little as his wing buds came into being.  They were still furled, but they had grown long and heavy and while the weight and tension could feel good in some positions, the same tension could stress every muscle in his body if he moved the wrong way.  

He flew through the Zone on autopilot, following the resonance all the way home to Long Now.  He snuggled into Clockwork's side, seeking the core that had called him.  

“Hi,” he said, tiredly.  “What's up?”

“Hello, Daniel.  Your wings are about to bloom.  I thought it best to call you here.”

“Oh, thanks,” said Danny.  

“Here, I've set something up for you in the garden.”

“Hm?  Why?” asked Danny, letting Clockwork steer him.  

“The garden has the best ectoradiation and flow of ectoplasm.”

Those things did sound good…

When they got to the garden, in all its multi-season glory, Clockwork took Danny down a path he'd never noticed before.  At the end of it was a cool, pleasant glade, with a small pond and a wooden bench and table.  On one side of the pond was the statue of a veiled angel, holding a mirror.  Directly opposite the mirror, on the other side of the pond, was a clear space and a a moss-covered rock that was just the right size for a pillow.

Clockwork guided Danny down to kneel by the rock, then to rest his head on it so he was looking at the mirror.

The first thing that Danny noticed was that Clockwork had arranged him in the classic, semi-fetal “baby angel” pose.  The second thing was that it was absurdly comfortable, the position perfectly accounting for the weight of his wings.  

“I thought you would like to see,” explained Clockwork.  

Danny, still only half awake, was about to ask see what when his whole body was seized with acute, anticipatory tension.  

The covering of his jupsuit peeled away first, revealing the silver-freckled purple of the outside of his wings.  Then, with a sticky, tearing sound, the petals themselves separated, falling open to the sky.  There were three for each wing, their insides a dull, clouded green.  

He trembled with the sudden influx of energy.  He could taste the sky, the wind, the delicate variations of ectoenergy.  But none of that energy was available for him.  He could feel it being stored away, packed tight and out of reach, a treat for whoever ate him.  

He tried to stay awake, but the exertions of his new functions bore him under swiftly.  He didn't even remember closing his eyes.  

.

An advantage of his wings senses was that he knew exactly where he was when he woke up.  Directly in front of his face was a ladle with a note that said “stay hydrated!” on it, and a plate full of… clock parts?

He picked one up - a small silver plate with emeralds pressed into it - and popped it in his mouth without thinking about it.  

The freak out was immediately followed by the rest of the clock parts disappearing. 

Danny's jumpsuit was shredded and didn't seem to be reforming like it usually did, so Danny put on the pair of pajama pants that had been left, folded, on the bench.  Then, he went to look for Clockwork.  

(Stepping inside made his wings droop ever-so-slightly.  The environment outside really was better.)

“Thanks for calling me over,” said Danny, floating closer to Clockwork, “and for the, um.  Snack.  But should probably go back to Amit–”  Danny was hit with a massive wave of disorientation.  He very much wanted to go home, but at the same time, he was completely certain that was a bad idea.  He would have fallen out of the air if Clockwork hadn't steadied him.  His core whined, confused, and a very small part of him was pleased to detect a slightly mechanical, ticking note to the noise.  

“Daniel,” said Clockwork, very gently, “Amity Park is back on Earth, outside the Zone.  There wouldn't be enough ectoplasm there for you.” 

“But,” said Danny, uncertainly.  

“Can you turn human right now?” asked Clockwork.  

Danny tried.  He couldn’t.  His wings held him firmly in ghost form, refusing to be banished before their task was done and Danny was being digested in Clockwork’s stomach.  

“I intend to keep our arrangement from earlier,” said Clockwork, before Danny could panic.  “You will not be missed.”

Danny relaxed.  The times Clockwork had eaten him, he'd stopped time until Danny could go home.  “Thanks,” he said.  

Clockwork nodded graciously, then pulled Danny towards him to kiss his forehead.  “I can already tell that you'll taste delicious in no time.  Please, relax.  There is no hurry.”

.

“I think I have more freckles than before,” said Danny.

“Indeed,” said Clockwork, setting a bowl of what Danny knew was just cream, sugar, vanilla, and ectoplasm mixed together in front of him.  

That didn’t stop his body from craving the mixture like nothing else.  

Clockwork stopped him from grabbing it, and emptied a small jar of flower petals into it.  Then flakes of silver and diamond dust.  

Danny made a hungry noise.  One layer of it was human enough, but whirring and ticking and something bell-like were clearly audible.  

(Danny could not match any clocks, yet, but he was working on it)

“They’re getting bigger, too,” he observed, after guzzling half the bowl.  

“I see,” said Clockwork.  

“And they feel different.  The skin.”  The freckles felt smoother, slicker, and cooler than the skin around them.

Clockwork picked up one of Danny’s hands and ran his thumb over a tight cluster of freckles.  “Like icing on a cake.”

Danny took his hand back and finished off the bowl.  “Do you think I’ll taste like cake.”

“I think you will taste like yourself,” said Clockwork.  “Sweeter than any cake.”

.

Danny tried to sleep in the room he’d grown up in, the last two times, but the air in there felt so stale when compared to the garden, and he found himself sleeping at the pond, resuming the position Clockwork had put him in the first time.  

Well, he supposed Clockwork had foreseen how well it would work.  

Clockwork spent a lot of time there, too, sitting at the bench and reading out loud to Danny as he dozed.

.

The freckles started to merge together into broad silvery-white patches.  When those patches were around a joint, the joint became hard to move.  Extra force was needed to bend the tough, shiny, skin.  And within those silver patches, gems grew, set into his skin like bearings in watches.  

.

Danny’s wings started to pale.  Streaks of color - silver, bronze, blue, palest lilac and pink - made appearances, organizing themselves into complex fractal patterns.  

.

“I know I’m sleeping more,” said Danny, “but I don’t know how much more.”

They were still in the garden.  Clockwork was rubbing a cream into Danny’s back, near his wings.  There were complex structures there, under his skin, woven through his ectoplasmic muscles and around his bones, and they were working hard, all the time.  Even in the best position Clockwork could put him in, they often ached.  

And even the satisfying ache of a job well done was still an ache.  

“How much time you spend here doesn’t matter,” said Clockwork.  “You should sleep as much as you need to, and not worry about it.”

.

When Danny woke up, he couldn’t open his right eye.  He looked at the mirror across the pond and saw that a silver patch had completely covered the eyelid.  

He groaned and tried to push himself up.  Tried.  His wrist didn’t bend when he told it to.  He glared at it, one-eyed.  Silver had circled it, too, and the thumb on that hand.  He tried to bend it again, and had some success, but as soon as he stopped actively forcing it, it returned to the position it was in before.  

A quick check showed that his eye and wrist weren’t the only body parts affected.  His left hip was partially covered, and so was a great deal of his spine.  

This would have been a much bigger problem if he couldn’t fly.  

“I can bring you breakfast in the garden,” said Clockwork.  “You don’t want to be stuck in an uncomfortable position.”

Danny was already itching to go back to the garden.  His wings had started to produce a thin, fragrant nectar from their bases the other day, and since then, sitting upright made his back feel bloated and leaky.  

He opened his mouth to say as much, but instead of a human voice, a complex series of ticks and chimes rolled out.  The ticks sent pleasing vibrations through his bones and flesh, and the chimes hummed in his throat.  It was all completely incomprehensible to him, but it felt good.

He glanced up at Clockwork, who was smiling.  “Go on,” Clockwork said.

Danny grinned - skin moving strangely around the silver patches - and started to chatter.  

.

The next day, Danny couldn’t open either of his eyes.  The air smelled strongly of vanilla and lilac.  

“Don’t worry, Daniel,” said Clockwork as he tipped a cup of cream into Danny’s mouth, “I will take pictures of what you look like ripe.”

.

Having spent so much time at Long Now, Danny hadn’t released the cold energy that naturally built up in his core over time.  It spread outwards, now, freezing him from the inside out even as the silvery-white coating his skin did the same from the outside in.  

But it did not touch his wings, which stayed soft and flexible and took in energy and ectoplasm at the same steady rate.  

.

“I wonder if you are even aware of all the sounds you are making,” said Clockwork, fondly, as he rubbed Danny’s back in that way that felt so good.  “They’re enough to make me want to eat you right away, but I can tell you aren’t quite ripe yet.”  He patted Danny’s back.  “Just a little longer.”

.

Danny knew when he was ripe.  Not from any external stimulus, but because something like a switch popped up in his brain.  Not a literal switch, of course, he wasn’t hallucinating, but he knew that if he flipped it, if he made this one, last, tiny conscious decision, he would send out a signal that said eat me, I’m tasty!

He flipped the switch.  

.

(The next thing he consciously remembered, he was hatching from an egg in Clockwork’s hands.)

[charlesslut16]

hiiiii!! i love your writing! could you maybe write something about esteban reassuring the reader after he has a very hard race and she’s really worried about him? (qatar traumatized me). thank you!!! 🩷

-hell on track-

summary : esteban reassures you after the horrible race that happened...

PAIRING : esteban ocon x reader

WARNINGS : the qatar race, talk about vomiting

note : i'm sorry that i was so absent but i had so much work on my plate that i didn't have the time to write something for you. But i hope you still like it even tho itt came late...

masterlist  

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

You hated Qatar.  Even now, after the race that had accrued. 

The day had started as always. Esteban and you woke up in bed together, made yourselves ready for the paddock/race, and ate breakfast together. A good start to the day.

But no one knew how bad the day would end for all the drivers and their significant others. In Qatar, it was 80 degrees Celsius, and it was absolutely boiling in the cars of the drivers.

While all the other wags were sitting in the garages watching the race, you and Kika were in the alpine garage worrying about Esteban and Pierre. Both of you feared for both of them.

Kika and you knew that nothing too horrible would happen, but you still didn't want to think about all the things that could easily happen, like not seeing anything and driving against a border or worse, against another driver.

As you heard what problems the other drivers had, Kika and you became uneasy. You knew that the both of them would return save to you, but you wanted to know how they were doing right this second.

Logan had to retire because of his health, some drivers couldn't see in the last laps because it was blurry; Fernando had difficulties with his seat, because of the heat and some more incidents.

And as the race was finished, all you had on your mind was to be with Esteban as soon as possible. Minutes later, you saw him and ran to him. Hugging him and touching him to know that he was alright.

Well okay. You knew that he had vomited on the 15th lap and that everything was blurry in the last few laps. But him being here, with you, made everything a little better.

After the podium and the interviews, you and Esteban were in his driver's room on the couch. You told him the thoughts you had while he was racing, and he listened and reassured you.

“Everything is fine, I'm fine. There is no need to worry anymore, my love. I was feeling ill by lap 15 or 16. I was throwing up for two laps inside the cockpit, but I'm in one piece and that is all that matters.”

You still weren't convinced, but that was only because you were worrying so much, while he was racing. In your mind, you knew that nothing too horrible would happen, but still you had your worries.

“But honestly, I was not expecting for the race to be that hard. I can normally do two race distances, even in Singapore. Physically, like muscle-wise and cardio-wise, I'm always fine.  That's what I've always been training for, but today it was just the hot air and how hot the engine is from behind the car. I don't think we particularly sealed the cockpit too well. It must have been like 80 degrees inside the car.”

“But yeah. Glad that we finished the race. A hard one, well deserved, the maximum we could have done. A happy ending.”

You listened soundlessly and carefully, understanding the situation in the car fully, as you weren't in there. You had just heard the information you had become or heard.

“Why didn't you retire, Este? Maybe it would have been better for your health.”

“It's not an option, retiring. I was never going to do that. You need to kill me to retire.”

Shocked, you looked at him for a second before you slapped his chest. He caught your hand, while laughing as he saw your shocked face. But it was true. Nothing would get him out of his car. Except maybe for you.

“Don't say something like that. Do not even think about such horrible things.”

 After you answered him, you turned around, so Esteban could only see your back. But Esteban didn't like that, he pulled you into his lap and gripped your chin with his hand, so you'd look at him.

“I was only joking, my love. Do not worry.”

You accepted this answer with a little pout-smile. But you and Esteban both knew that that was a lie. He would rather be dragged out of the car than go out of it willingly.

“I'm glad that next year we come back here in December.”

“Me too.”

You sat on his lap, while he told you more about his time in the car. And each time he told you something, and you were worried, he would reassure you and tell you that he was fine.

That was all you wanted. Esteban was one of the people who made your life so much better. He was your rock in the sea. He was your save place, and you never wanted him to be anything else.

And you hoped that you and him would be together forever.

[doctorgerth]

a/n: The first piece for the event! Starting with our sweet freckled fire boi. Will he get a smooch? Or is he safe until the next round? Read to find out! 💕

pairing: Ace x GN!Reader

word count: 1.3k

candy heart prompt: You & Me - Distraction

PORTGAS D. ACE + YOU & ME

The anniversary of the day you joined the crew was quickly approaching, and in typical Whitebeard Pirate fashion, they were planning a substantial celebration for you.

There was no one more grateful you joined the crew besides their very own 2nd Division Commander. You were undoubtedly Ace’s best friend among the crew; the two of you hardly ever seen without the other. That’s why Marco left him the utmost important mission of keeping you distracted while they finished with decorations and last minute preparations. Ace tried his hardest to fulfill his mission by keeping you company in your cabin — not too different from his daily routine.

Though, he really wished he would’ve been given more explicit instruction other than just keeping you ‘preoccupied’. What exactly was he supposed to preoccupy you with? The two of you could chat for hours on end. You’ve done so countless times before, but could he actually keep you cooped up in your room for long enough?

The answer was clearly no, since you quickly became eager to sneak into the kitchen — where the chefs were busy preparing your favorite dishes — for an afternoon snack.

“What is up with you?” you wondered aloud as you reached over to check his temperature. “You never turn down food. Are you ill?”

The warmth of your hand against his forehead was surely enough to bring him to feverish degrees. Your touch often did that, as did your genuine care for him. How could he not have fallen for you?

“I’m fine!” he reassured you with a groan. A result of you removing your hand. He didn’t want it to leave just yet. Or ever. “I just don’t want to face Thatch’s wrath again. My head still hurts from the frying pan he threw at me last time.”

You snickered, “Oh, so the frying pan caused you to lose the last brain cell you had?”

Thump. He smirked. Ace was a sucker for your playful banter. He’d often hoped it was flirting, but even though Ace knew you best, he couldn’t gauge your feelings for him. Did you feel the same way? Was he in your head half as often as you were on his mind?

“Yeah, I’m sorry I don't have any for you to borrow now.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile, “Well, I’m starving and Thatch adores me, so I’m going to go grab a snack. I’ll sneak something for you too. You need to eat. You’ve hardly eaten all day.”

Thump thump. You always looked after him and he loved that about you. Ace loved you. He was never more sure of anything.

He hadn’t eaten all day because he was saving his appetite for the big feast, but of course he couldn’t tell you that. You seemed to be convinced that he wasn’t feeling well. Maybe he could use that to his advantage?

As you rose to your feet, Ace thought quickly and clutched at his stomach, doubling over with an exaggerated groan, “You’re right. I’m not feeling so well…”

You released your hold on the door knob and rushed over to him, rubbing circles against his back and cooing at him. He only felt a little bad about faking an illness, but he could really get used to the feeling of you taking care of him. It felt so natural being here with you.

“Here, lay down,” you directed as you helped Ace into your bed. He looked pitiful staring up at you; those all too familiar dark eyes tugging at your heartstrings. You absentmindedly reached out to swipe some hair out of his eyes and nearly melted when he leaned into your touch. “I’ll go get Marco. Stay here.”

Shit. You’d nearly made him forget why he was faking being sick, let alone what he was supposed to be doing in the first place. Ace struggled in stopping you from walking out the door, struggling even further with getting out from under your covers. He tripped and fell onto the wooden floor, scrambling to his feet as he stumbled down the hallway chasing after you.

“No, wait!” he called after you. You were a few paces ahead of him and quickly made it out onto the deck, stopping only when he caught up to you.

You turned to him with your brows furrowed, “What are you doing? I thought you didn’t feel well?”

Ace was well aware he wouldn’t be able to fool you twice, but you were out in the open now. Exposed to any and all potential spoilers of your celebration. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to lure you back into your room in any normal manner. What the hell was he supposed to do now?

“I’m going to go see Marco to figure out what the hell is wrong with you. I thought I heard him a second ago.” You swivelled your head to find the ship’s doctor.

Ace caught sight of some crewmates behind you, under Marco’s direction, carrying a giant balloon arch along the other end of the main deck and attempting to sneak it into the mess hall. Marco met Ace’s eyes with wide ones, panicked. He shook his head violently as he tried to hurry the crewmates out of your sight. Just as you were about to turn around to catch them in the act, Ace instinctively pulled you closer.

His warm hands cupped your cheeks, positioning your face mere inches from his. He could hear you, feel you gasp against his lips. Your warm breath fanning his own lips left him dizzy, wings fluttering madly in his gut he thought they might lift him off the ground. Having you this close to him was new, intoxicating, intimate. He felt near breathless as he continued to hold you still and you showed no sign of leaving his embrace.

“Don’t go,” he whispered gently, a calloused thumb grazing your cheek.

You sighed and Ace expected you to offer more defiance, to push him away, but instead you stared up at him expectantly, eyes blinking slow. Were you pulling him closer or was he leaning in?

He was surely running a fever now.

Your breaths mingled, lips hovering, noses brushing. The way Ace’s eyes would shamelessly drop to stare at your lips left you wondering how you were even still standing. You’d suddenly forgotten where you were or why you were even there in the first place. All you knew in this moment was him. Just you and him.

“Ace…” you sighed; a helpless plea for him to be closer.

Your name dripped from his lips like honey. You wanted to know if he’d taste just as sweet. Just as you were about to taste for yourself, a teasing voice pierced through the gentle thrumming in your ears.

“Are you two going to keep canoodling each other out on the deck or are you going to come join the party?”

The tension quickly dissipated with Thatch’s voice, causing Ace to drop his hands and you to take a hasty step backward. You turned to look at Thatch who was grinning mischievously. A crowd of crewmates behind him giggled like school girls. When you turned back to Ace, staring at him quizzically, he could only smile.

“Party? What are we celebrating?” Your voice sounded hoarse; unfamiliar. You were still jittery from the anticipation. You were actually going to kiss your best friend.

Though the tension was gone, you could tell something significant had changed between the two of you from that briefly intense moment. You’d always known your feelings for Ace were deeper than friendly, but looking at him now was like looking in a mirror. Ace stared at you in a way akin to lovers and though he was no longer caressing your face, you could feel a warm hand around your own, and another grip around your heart, squeezing as he replied,

“You, of course.”

a/n: Ace survives Round One! No smooch for him so far, but perhaps he’ll end up successful in the next round? We’ll see Fire Fist again in Round Two! Thanks for reading. 💕

[hugmekenobi]

Goes Both Ways

A Bad Batch Series interlude oneshot

Gif by @transkestis​

(no, the S2 fits aren’t here yet, this gif just worked the best)

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Summary: You and Hunter both realise there are trickier feelings that need navigating in a relationship but the two of you manage to work with them.

Warnings: Swearing, possessiveness/jealousy, reader doesn’t really stick the Jedi teachings (but we knew this anyway lol), pet name (sweetheart), Gregor being what I need in the form of a flirtatious plot device, Force communication working how I say it does, brief mention of death, no y/n, PDA in the form of making out, affectionate biting/marking, spicy and suggestive language and touches, awkwardness, getting caught/interrupted

Masterlist for S1 chapters

Word Count: 3.4K

Rating: 18+

Author’s notes: I can’t justify the main trope here, my brain just went into this headspace and took it and ran lol. Things get a bit spicier, but I appreciate this sorta thing isn’t for everyone but to those who do read, hope you enjoy :)

The three of them watched from the bar at the scene unfolding in front of them. They weren’t sure how exactly you would react once you came back from putting Omega in Cid’s room, but one thing was certain, you weren’t going to be very happy.

“Hey guys, what are we looking-” You stopped as you saw what it what they were staring at, or rather who they were staring at. “Who the fuck’s that?” You asked, attempting levity but it wasn’t very convincing.

“We don’t know. She appeared once you left.” Tech answered.

“Did she now?” You replied, your voice tense. The feelings bubbling within you were unfamiliar and you were still getting used to the whole relationship thing, but you could already tell you weren’t a fan of what was happening in front of you.

You continued to stare at the young woman currently standing by Hunter at the other end of the bar counter. She was being a little too touchy-feely for your liking, her hands kept wandering to Hunter’s chest and hands. Hunter, to his credit, kept inching away every time she did that, but she was not for dissuading.

“Are you alright?” Echo asked.

“Uh huh.” You replied stiffly.

“You sure?” Wrecker asked as he saw the way your jaw clenched.

You sucked air through your teeth. “Yup.”

“You know he’s not going to do anything.” Tech added.

“It’s not him I’m worried about.”

“Are you sure you-”

“Relax Echo, I’m not going to cause a scene.” You said calmy as you watched them.

You understood to a degree, hell if you were in her position you’d probably try too, but he was taken now.

Now he was yours.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, where the fuck did that line of thought come from? You thought to yourself, shocked that you’d even gone down that road so quickly. That jealousy and possessiveness was something you’d been taught for years was a very bad thing, yet you jumped to it immediately. You took a deep breath. “It’s fine, I’m fine. He’ll come back over once he's done talking.”

The three of them regarded you suspiciously.

“Chill with the fourth degree. I’m okay.” You reiterated as you felt their eyes on you.

“You’ve still not looked away.” Tech pointed out.

“And that bar stool leg wasn’t bent like that before.” Echo said, indicating to the chair you were closest to.

You glanced down and sure enough, the leg has curved slightly. Clearly you weren’t as fine as you were trying to make yourself out to be. “Wrecker, stand in front of me.”

Wrecker did as you asked. “That better?”

You took another deep breath. “Yeah. Just gotta wait until they’re done.” You stole a swig from Echo’s drink and willed the streak of possessiveness that was residing with in you to go away.

--

“Okay, how long has it been? Seriously, what could she be saying that’s so interesting?” You asked irritably. “Also, Hunter isn’t exactly a conversationalist, what could she be so captivated by?

The others shared a smirk. It had been five minutes and you’d only lasted two before you’d moved past Wrecker to watch them again.

“I don’t think it’s his conversation skills she’s interested in.” Tech said simply as if he was answering a question about the weather.

You shot him a glare as Wrecker and Echo both shook their heads at him. “Sometimes Tech, I forget you’re the smartest one here. I know what she’s interested in but how many times does he need to back away for her to get the hint? Or better yet, why doesn’t he leave?”

“Maybe he’s just being polite?” Wrecker offered.

“Or they’re genuinely having a conversation?” Echo suggested.

You hid your head in your hands, but you couldn’t help but laugh. “Sometimes I really can’t talk to you boys.”

“Although I doubt a genuine conversation would involve that.” Tech said indicating over to them.

You lifted your head and that possessiveness you had been attempting to quash came to a head as you saw the way she looped an arm around the back of his neck and drew her closer to him. “Oh, for fucks sake.” You muttered. The Jedi were dead, and they weren’t perfect anyway, so you didn’t have to be. You downed the rest of your drink and began to walk over to him.

“I have 5 credits on her bumping into her and making her spill her drink.” Wrecker said as he watched you go.

“Nah, she’ll use her Jedi abilities for that.” Echo countered. “Tech?”

“I think she’ll rise above and merely ask her to leave.”

Echo and Wrecker just stared at him; eyebrows raised.

Tech sighed, “Fine. She’s using the Force.”

--

Hunter had been itching to leave for the past ten minutes but this woman was not getting the message. He had just taken her hands off him for what felt like the one hundredth time when he felt you next to him as you wrapped an arm around his waist.

He glanced at you and saw a hint of darkness in your eyes as well as something he couldn’t quite place. “Hey, how are-” Your lips on his abruptly cut him off and it was a kiss that was definitely not meant for a public space. It was deep and intense, and he was sure it had something to do with whatever it was that was lurking behind your eyes. After what was probably too long for a casual expression of affection, you pulled away and he found that all words had left his brain.

“You were stolen away from me. I had to come check on you.” You said sweetly as you gazed at him, pleased with the slightly dazed look on his face. Keeping your hand wrapped around him, you faced the woman, and you felt a hint of smugness as you saw the flash of irritation on her face. “I see you’ve met my Hunter.”

Your Hunter? He regarded you curiously, but your eyes were focused on the woman in front of you.

“Yeah, we just got chatting.” She said innocently.

“Oh, chatting, was it? Looked to me like you were hitting on him.” You said with fake politeness.

Oh, that’s what this was, Hunter realised. You were jealous. He worried for the woman across from him since he’d never seen you like this, so he didn’t know what to expect. “Sweetheart, I wasn’t-”

“Oh, don’t worry, I trust you.” You said, leaning up to plant a kiss on his neck and you smirked to yourself as you saw her frown out of the corner of your eye.

You faced her again. “Honey, you should really look for men that are interested in you. You’re not going to get what you’re looking for here, I can tell you that.”

“Oh, I’d never-” She began, placing her hand over her heart as if she was shocked by such an insinuation.

“No?” You asked as if you were willing to believe her.

“It’s just he never mentioned you, so I assumed-”

You could tell she was lying and that was confirmed by the way Hunter stiffened next to you. “See, I think he did, and you just don’t know when to quit.”

“Well, I didn’t think sewer rats were his type.” She sneered.

You were glad you could be done with the fake niceties. You placed a hand on Hunter’s chest as you sensed him getting ready to speak. “I think you better be going now.” You said coolly and with a subtle flick of your finger, her drink spilt on her lap.

She shouted in annoyance at the red puddle that was now forming on her lap.

“Oh, now that’s unfortunate. You better get outta here and sort that cause white and red? That’s a bitch to clean and I wouldn’t want your lovely dress to get ruined.” You said with a cat-like grin.

She glowered at you and walked out of the bar.

“That wasn’t very nice.” Hunter kidded into your hair as he kissed your temple.

You looked back at him and looped your arms around his neck.

Hunter’s hands found your waist and as he stared into your eyes, he saw that that hint of possessiveness hadn’t left yet, and he realised it wasn’t necessarily just the woman he had to worry about.

“She was trying to take something that wasn’t hers.” You said as your hands threaded themselves in his hair. You pulled on it and brought his lips down, so they were mere inches from yours.

Hunter had to bite back the groan that threatened to leave his mouth and instead he tightened his hold on your waist. “We can’t… not here.” He managed to rasp out.

“See, I think it should be here. How else are people going to know that you’re mine?” You purred as you moved your lips to his ear before you bit down on his neck, using your tongue to sooth the sting of it.

“Fuck.” Hunter hissed out and he had to grab the counter so as to stay upright.

“Did you like talking to her?” You continued to whisper as you kissed along his jaw.

“No.” He replied hoarsely. His brain was having to work overtime to form even the simplest of words.

“You didn’t leave.” You murmured as you traced your lips over his. You took them away as you saw him go to make something more of it. “Why didn’t you leave?” You asked again, your hand trailing up and down his chest- thankful that they’d all decided they could take a break tonight since his armour would’ve made this difficult- whilst you sucked a mark on his pulse point.

Hunter’s head fell back, and it took all the willpower he possessed not to let out a moan. “Didn’t- Maker- didn’t want to be- Fucking hell- rude.” He ground out as your lips and tongue continued to do things to his neck that left him unable to think straight.

“If there’s a next time, Sergeant…” You crooned, bringing his head back up. “Be rude.” You whispered before kissing him once more, gently biting his lip and relishing in the way he couldn’t keep it together anymore as you heard him groan and hold you tightly to him.

“Oi, you two! This is a public space. Do that in your own place!”

Hunter snapped back to the current moment. He broke away and he saw Cid standing behind you.

You didn’t seem bothered at all. “We will.” You said simply as you took Hunter’s hand and led him out the bar.

All Hunter could do was follow you, too hooked on whatever it was you were acting like to argue or even really think.

--

The others had turned away from the moment that was unfolding between the two of you now, but Wrecker handed the credits over to Echo and Tech.

Echo heard Cid shout and risked a glance over his shoulder and as he saw you lead Hunter out, he guessed they’d be banned from the Marauder for a while. He sighed.

Tech and Wrecker stopped their conversation and followed Echo’s gaze.

“Ah.” Tech said plainly.

“Guess we’re going to be here a while.” Wrecker grumbled.

--

Hunter watched as you laughed at whatever it was Gregor had said. He wasn’t that funny. His jaw went tight as he saw the way Gregor placed a quick hand on your back. He felt that cold stab of jealousy, something he thought he’d risen above since he knew that it was really nothing more than friendly banter between the two of you, you’d told him as much and he trusted you. Plus, Gregor was a brother, and he was doing what brothers do which was very successfully winding him up and Hunter knew he should’ve been better at ignoring it. But seeing the flirtatious repartee come so easily to Gregor and watching him lean in closer to you was doing enough so that the primal feeling of possessiveness was able to take over his brain.

He got up as he saw you pass the table and followed you as you headed into Cid’s office.

--

Echo, Tech, and Wrecker watched from another table as you picked up your communicator and gently nudged Gregor out of your path, making your way out of the bar. Their eyes then fell to Hunter, who stood upon seeing you leave and followed you out of the room. The scene was all too familiar, and they all shared a knowing look as the deja vu settled over them.

“Who knew he could get jealous too.” Wrecker said. “I figured he’d be better than that.”

“Not with her, he’s always had an issue with Gregor. He flirts with her. It’s innocent enough but it gets to him.” Echo said.

“Yeah. Remember when Gregor brought her those flowers? Hunter didn’t leave her side the entire day.” Tech reminded Wrecker.

Wrecker nodded his head in agreement as he remembered.

“Hey fellas.” Gregor said as he sat down next to Wrecker. “Where’s the Sergeant?”

“No idea.” They all said together, and they were thankful that Omega was out running errands with Cid.

--

You finished finding those datapads Cid had asked you to bring to her but just as you were turning to leave, you felt Hunter’s presence but before you could say anything, he’d whirled you around and brought his lips to yours. It was the kind of kiss that took your breath away and left your head spinning as he pulled away. Gathering yourself, you put the datapads down and stared at him as he kept a firm grip of your waist. “What was that for?”

Hunter didn’t answer. He just kissed you again and tangled his fingers in your hair.

You felt it then. You felt the possessiveness that was flowing through him, and this kiss definitely had that in it. It was rough but it felt really fucking good. You just didn’t know what had set this off. What’s going on? You managed to send as you kissed him back just as eagerly.

“I never like it when he flirts with you.” Hunter muttered as he followed your jawline with his lips.

Letting out a happy sigh, you tilted your head back and let him explore your neck. “Who? Gregor?” You watched as his gaze met yours and you nearly let out a groan at the sight. His eyes were dark, and he was breathing heavily. “He’s harmless.” You managed to say, though it was a struggle.

“He wants you and I don’t like what that does to me.” Hunter growled as he kissed you again and pressed himself tighter to you.

“What if I like what it does to you?” You whispered breathlessly as you broke away, a coy smile on your lips as you leaned forward.

No. He wasn’t going to let you turn this one around. It was his turn now. “I don’t like people coming for what’s mine.”

The guttural way he said that had tingles running down your spine and your toes curled as he made his own mark on you. You’re lucky I love you, had that come from anyone else, I’d have kicked their ass.

“I must not be doing a very good job if you’re still able to find a way to speak.” With that, he kissed you again and he tugged on your lip, delighting in the way your breathing hitched as he did that. He grabbed the backs of your thighs and picked you up and carried you over to the edge of Cid’s desk.

You were grateful that the mission you’d been on had been tamer and involved blending in because if he was wearing his armour right now, you wouldn’t have been able to grab fistfuls of his shirt to hold him close to you.

Hunter brought his lips back to your neck. “Do you like it when he flirts with you?” He rumbled against your skin whilst his hand began to steadily trail a path along the inside of your thigh.

You couldn’t help the moan that left your mouth, but you stopped his hand from going any higher. “Someone could-” You broke off with another groan as he bit the sensitive spot just behind your ear before he cooled the sting of it with his tongue. “Walk in.” You said, your voice hoarse with effort.

“Maybe that’s what I want.” Hunter crooned. “Maybe Gregor should see who you’re with so he could get the message that you’re mine.” He kissed you again before he repeated his question, “Do you like it when he flirts with you?” He needed you as speechless as he was when you were this way, so he made another mark on the junction where your neck and shoulder met.

“Fuck!” You couldn’t help but shout and you removed your grip on his wrist since you needed both hands to keep yourself upright.

“Answer me.” Hunter ordered as he slowly continued to move his hand upwards.

Right. Words. Come on. “I-um- shit-” His teasing touches were killing you. “No. I’m just being nice.” You managed gasp out as your head fell back.

“Hmm.” Hunter stopped just before he reached where he knew you were wanting him. He grabbed the back of your neck so that you were forced to look at him.

You could barely keep your breathing under control. You’d never seen him like this, and you were scared by how much you were loving it. You found the edges of his shirt and found that all worries of being discovered were rapidly leaving you.

“If I went higher, what I would find there, would that be because of me or because of Gregor?” He hummed against your lips as he moved his fingers in small circles at the juncture of your thigh.

You could only moan in reply and your head fell into the crook of his neck.

Hunter paused what he was doing, pleased that you were as wrecked as you’d made him.

“You.” You croaked out as you felt him stop. “Please, Hunter.” He’d reduced you to a begging mess, but you were too far gone to care. “It’s only you. I’m just being nice. I’m yours. Please just-”

Your words sent him over the edge, and he kissed you hungrily.

You were about to lift his shirt over his head when the office door opened.

“Kriffing hell! Not my office!”

You pushed Hunter away and jumped down from Cid’s desk and you wanted to curl up on the floor and die but Hunter… he looked cool as can be.

“You two, out!” Cid yelled, shooing you out the door.

“The datapads are there.” You said sheepishly as you pointed to the small pile on the end of her desk.

“Well, now I know why you never brought them to me.” Cid snapped. “What if it was the kid instead of me?”

“It wasn’t.” Hunter replied breezily as he re-entered the bar.

You glanced at him, confused as to how he could answer so casually, but then you saw the look on his face, and you could feel that he wasn’t done with you yet and the thought sent a thrill through your veins.

Hunter snaked an arm around your waist and began to hurry you out the parlour.

“Ready to hear the rest?”

You stopped and turned to face Gregor. Hunter’s arm had wrapped itself around your front and he was pressed into your back. “Not right now but yeah, Gregor, you can finish that story later tonight.” You let out a small yelp as you felt Hunter nip the back of your neck. “Tomorrow. Can talk tomorrow.” You corrected quickly and you let Hunter push you out the parlour.

Neither of you had noticed Omega squashed between Wrecker and Gregor.

“Um…” Wrecker said.

“I know, I know. ‘We’ll tell you when you’re older.’” Omega said grumpily as she crossed her arms and slouched.

“Just don’t go to the ship tonight. I think we gotta crash here.” Echo said.

“Those two…” Cid came in shaking her head.

“Hey, we gotta live with them.” Wrecker pointed out.

“So long as we don’t get our timings mixed up, we should be fine.” Tech said.

“We can only hope.” Echo muttered.

Masterlist

Tagging: @noeasyisnoisy​, @tpwkcalli​, @fuckoffthanos​, @arctrooper69​ @graciexmarvel​, @flyingkangaroo​, @nightmonkeysstuff​, @a-streakofazure​, @ladytano420​, @dragonrider9905​, @keep-calm-and-drink-caf​, @yyourmotherr​, @xxeiraxx​