#so fucked out you can’t help but grin at the slightest hint of praise <3

[umemiyan]

when he’s been a brat but you finally tame him back into being a loverboy and go “that’s it, there’s my sweet boy” when he gives in and he just smiles at you all dopey and whatnot 🥺

[twokinkybeans]

Jar Of Dirt Chapter 1: Good Boy [Starker Fanfiction NSFW/18+]

Hey everyone, thank you so much for being here! In each chapter, we'll make a short note to warn you about the kinks/sex stuff that will be included and any other/extra warnings that might be needed. General/returning warnings: Daddy Kink, Praise Kink, Dom/sub, BDSM.

Kink/Sexual Warnings: Oral Sex, Hand Jobs, Praise Kink, hinting at a potential Daddy Kink, talking about kink in general. Other warnings: None

All Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10 ... Masterpost (More to come!)

---

Chapter 1: Good Boy Peter likes living on campus at MIT. His friends are all there and sharing a room with Ned is definitely a huge plus. The parties are great and he practically has a spot with his name carved into it at the library. However. Peter loves being with Tony. Especially when they’re tangled together in the sheets. Like they are right now. Tony’s rough hands gracefully glide over Peter’s chest as the billionaire peppers him with kisses. His lips are hot on his own, always the slightest bit demanding but yet so soft and caring it makes Peter’s heart flutter in his chest every single time.

“Tony…” he whispers in the other man’s mouth. The low grumble he gets as a response makes him shiver. “-I’ve missed you so much.” “Missed you too, c’mere.” His fingers dig into Peter’s back as he pulls him in closer. His hands reach up to Peter’s shoulder to slide off the button-up he so slowly unbuttoned earlier, enjoying the hungry look on Peter’s face. It doesn’t matter how many times Tony undresses Peter. The sight takes away his breath every single time. How do a shirt and a sweater hide the fact that Peter is so strong. The lines carve his pale skin as if he’s a marble statue for Tony to marvel at.

The boy sighs happily as he feels the cold air on his back, together with Tony’s fingers tracing down to his hips. Peter gently holds Tony’s face, urging him to kiss him even deeper. A muffled groan escapes Peter’s lips when Tony pauses the movement of his hands. "P-please,” he whimpers into Tony’s mouth. Tony’s chuckle shoots through Peter like a bolt of electricity. Peter never admitted it out loud to Tony but he loved how composed the older man was - up until a certain point that was. He loved feeling taken care of like that. Knowing he was safe. Wanted. Loved it when Tony teased him into pleading for more. “Please, what?” Peter frowns with his eyes closed as he presses his lips back on Tony’s. “More,” Peter urges. “K-keep going.” Tony slides his hands beneath the waistband of Peter’s jeans and grips him tightly.

“Like this, baby?” Peter can’t help but grind down against Tony as he gasps a broken “Y-yeah, fuck.” “Language.” Tony’s stern voice made Peter huff. “What are you gonna do about it, you’re not my dad.” There’s a short pause and Peter’s left eye twitches when he notices Tony’s flushed face. The billionaire clears his throat and collects himself. “Old enough to be your dad.” “Don’t ruin the moment, Tony.” “Then stop reminding me, boy. Now take off my shirt.” Peter chuckles and wiggles his eyebrows before moving to tug at Tony’s shirt. “Yes, daddy,” he snorts, pretending not to notice Tony shifting. He decides to let it go for now and smiles up as he moves back a bit to create enough space to unbuckle Tony’s belt. His gaze lowers as well as he tries to pull the fabric down. Tony lifts his hips up and kicks it off his feet with Peter’s help. Peter stares at the outline of Tony’s dick through his underwear. He swallows, realizing his mouth is dry, and he licks his lips. He’s been thinking about this for quite some time now, and he finally feels bold enough to straight up ask. He doesn’t look up at Tony, to avoid the piercing gaze of his mentor. Instead, his eyes are locked on what he wants.

“Tony, I… Can I please suck you off? I want to try.” “Are you sure?” Tony presses his lips on top of each other. “I don’t want you to do anything you’re not certain of.” Peter breathes through his nose, finally daring to look up at Tony, who nearly falls apart at the sight of Peter’s big, doe eyes. “I want this,” he whispers breathlessly. “Need this.” Tony needs to do everything he can to not grab the boy and fuck him hard, because by god, does this sweet angel deserve it. “Alright then,” Tony says with a smile. He nods at Peter and looks down at his cock, twitching under the fabric of his underwear. “I’m all yours, Peter.”

Peter licks his lips once more and shuffles back a bit. Leaning forward, he tugs the underwear down and takes a deep breath when he realizes just how close he is to actually doing this. He curls his fingers around the base of Tony’s cock, as always. He gives a few gentle strokes up and down, enjoying the ragged breaths leaving the other man’s lips. He moves closer this time, closer than he’s ever been, and slowly licks at the tip.

The high-pitched moan that he’s met with is the best thing he’s ever heard and he’s going to do anything he can to hear it again. Eagerly, he sucks the head into his mouth now. Tony didn’t expect Peter to go at it so quickly and bucks forward involuntarily, groaning Peter’s name. Peter pulls back, leaving his lips on the tip as he looks up at Tony. “Am I doing it right?” If Tony could laugh, he would. But shit, he’s so goddamn hard and Peter is so goddamn beautiful and he still can’t believe that someone like Peter would do this for him. Would choose him. “F-fuck, Peter, yes, you’re doing so well for me, keep going.”

Peter’s dick twitches in his pants at the praise and before his conscious mind gets the chance to make a “Language” joke, his mouth is already wrapped around Tony again. Eager to please, he re-adjusts himself and continues sucking. His eyes close for a second, relishing in how full Tony makes him feel. Though, at the same time, he’s confronted with how empty he is as he clenches around nothing. Peter grips Tony’s hip with his free hand and works hard to remember how Tony made him feel good all those nights. He hollows his cheeks and runs his tongue over the length of the shaft. He whimpers when Tony grabs a fistful of his hair. His own cock twitches against the strain of his jeans.

“Just like that-” Tony sighs as his hips buck again. “So good for me-” Peter nearly loses his mind and works even faster, sucking even harder. He wants every drip of Tony’s come and right now there’s only one way to get it. And he’s going to get it. Whatever it takes. His head bobs up and down and Tony’s breathing starts to become erratic. His moans are like music to Peter and he hums around the shaft, feeling Tony’s cock twitch. Tony’s close. Peter looks up at him again and the man lets out an exasperated sigh at the sight of this sweet, young boy. “Such a good boy, Peter, fuck, you’re so pretty-AH!” Peter’s eyes roll back in their sockets and he bobs his head automatically at the pet name, the sight and the sensation causing Tony to tip over the edge. “Ffffuck!”

Peter sloppily tries to take it all, but the excess drips down his chin and he pulls back, gasping for air. Tony falls backwards onto the bed, staring at the ceiling with wide eyes.

I did not just say that. Please, tell me I did not just say that.

“Mr. Stark?” The billionaire immediately jolts to sit upright and he could kick himself for feeling his dick twitch again already at the scene in front of him. Peter’s on his butt on the tiled floor, legs bent to either side of him. His hands wiped his face and though they haven’t gotten rid of all of it, most of Tony’s cum is dripping down his fingers. His hair is all over the place and he’s staring at the billionaire with glassy eyes. “Hey-” Tony gets up to move to his protégé as quickly as he can. He gets on his knees in front of the boy and moves some stray hairs out of his face. “Are you okay?” Peter nods slightly and stares at Tony wide-eyed. “C-” Peter pauses, seemingly trying to figure out the right way to say what he wants to say. Tony holds his breath. “Can you call me that again?”

-

Peter walks into the lab and puts the jar on the table right in front of him. The loud thud has Tony turn around with a hand pressed to his chest and a startled look on his face. When he realizes it’s Peter, he relaxes and raises one eyebrow. “Jeez, kid, you gotta stop sneaking up on me like that.” “I’m Spider-Man, remember? Sneaking is my thing.” Peter cocks his head. “Besides, I wasn’t even trying to be quiet this time. How’s your hearing?” “One more joke about my age and you’re on the couch tonight, you hear me?” Peter puts up a cheeky smile. “I honestly don’t think you’d want me on the couch tonight once I elaborate on the elephant in the room.” Peter’s fingers tap the lid of the jar. Tony now raises both eyebrows, urging Peter to continue. Peter straightens his back. “The elephant being the- uh. The jar.” Peter clears his throat and Tony laughs softly. “I got that, kid.”

Tony stands up and saunters towards Peter, resting his hand on top of his lover’s. “So, what’s with the jar?” Tony smiles wide. A curious gleam makes his eyes shimmer. Peter puts Tony’s hand on top of the jar, the smug grin on his face causing Tony to narrow his eyes. “Well, I figured since we found out that… We’re into more than we thought we were- or at least… I am. I mean, you already knew, but. Wait.” Peter pulls his hands back and shakes his head slightly to collect his thoughts. It’s a nervous tick Tony finds all too endearing. As if shaking your head would make your scrambled thoughts re-align again. It works for Peter, and it looks absolutely adorable, so Tony’s not complaining. “What I’m trying to say is, I thought we could write our kinks down on little pieces on paper, put them in here and every time I’m with you we draw one and try it out together?”

“Peter…” It’s Tony’s turn to take his hand off the jar. He moves back a little and takes a deep breath. “That’s a lovely idea, I just… I’m into some weird shit and I don’t want to scare you off. Are you sure you want to dive into that? If we keep it as things are now, I’d love it just as much.” “So, you don’t want to do any of that with me then?” “Fuck, Peter, no, I do. I… I do want to do that with you. All of it.” Sinful images of Peter bent in different kinds of positions flash in front of Tony’s face. Tied up. Collared. On his knees. Or desperately getting off by humping Tony’s thighs. Tony can hear it all. The whimpers that would leave Peter’s mouth. The moans. The sighs. Fuck, Tony wants Peter to feel right in all the wrong ways. But it’s not fair on him. He’s never done any of this before. He didn’t even know he liked being called a good boy before last night. This jar thing might speed things up fast. Too fast. And the last thing Tony wants is Peter not wanting him anymore. “But you’re so new to all of this. I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

“I don’t feel pressured. At all.” Peter takes a step towards Tony, forcing the billionaire to look into his eyes to see the resolution. The determination. “I want this.” He wants to explore. And there’s no one he’d rather explore with than Tony. “Please, tell me you want this too. Tell me you want me.” “Oh, Peter, I want to do so many things with you, you have no idea.” Tony’s hands tangle in Peter’s hair, causing the boy to lean into the touch, closing his eyes. “I want you, and you know that.” “Good,” Peter whispers before his eyes open and he takes a quick step away from Tony. “Cause I got mine written down.”

Peter reaches for the jar and twists the lid off. He carefully places it on the table and stuffs his hands into his pockets. When he takes them back out, both his hands are stuffed with little pieces of paper. Tony’s eyes go wide. He can’t help but search for any pen lines. Any clue as to what Peter wants to try with him. The number of folded papers makes Tony’s brain short-circuit. Are there really so many things Peter wants to try that they haven’t done yet? Peter’s angelic laugh snaps him out of it. “No peeking!” Peter smiles as he drops the paper into the jar. “You’re making this very hard, kid.” Peter glances down at Tony’s crotch with a cheeky grin on his face. “Or am I making you hard?” A growl escapes Tony’s lips and he pulls Peter towards him. “Shut up and kiss me.”

--- More: Chapter 2 Masterpost

[langdons-rep]

Playthings - Part Five (Michael Langdon x Dark!Witch reader x Duncan Shepherd)

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 | Pt. 3 | Pt. 4

Plot: you and Michael arrive at Outpost 3 and have the pleasure of getting to know the infamous Duncan Shepherd. 

Warnings: thigh riding, face fucking (reader and michael receiving), reader gets a facial, dirty talk, duncan slightly degrades reader, spanking, penetration and basically just a lot of filth.

-

“Tell Duncan Shepherd to come into my office, right now.”

The grey rapidly nods, gulping his own saliva. You wait for him to leave, then go straight into your room and patiently wait for Duncan to arrive.

It’s not long after that your eyes are met with curly brown hair and baby blue eyes. He enters the room slowly, the slightest hint of a grin plastering over his face.

At this point, he doesn’t even wait for you to instruct him to take a seat, he does it anyway; just like he did the day before.

Your lips curve into a small smile as you watch him behaving like you’re not his superior.

“You really can’t stay away from me, huh?” He cockily asks, breaking the silence.

You chuckle before answering.

“I could say the same about you.”

He licks his lips, “Glad you’re admitting it.”

“Admitting what?” You tilt your head, feigning naivety in your voice as if you don’t know what he’s talking about.

“You can fool everyone here, but not me.” He chortles, making your smirk widen.

“Not you?” You mockingly ask, wearing a fake concerned expression on your face.

“Not me, princess.” He remarks in a raspy tone, making your thighs press together at the pet name.

You devilishly chuckle under your breath before speaking again.

“Stand up.”

“Why?”

“Just stand up.”

He obliges, knowing better than to anger you.

You take a long look at his body before replicating his movement and positioning yourself in front of him.

You cross your arms on your chest, biting your mouth and tilting your head to one side as you take in his quizzical expression. He can’t help but focus his stare on the way your teeth nibble at your bottom lip, wishing to be the one to do so.

“How much do you want me?” You bluntly inquire, making him hold his breath at the question.

“What makes you think that I want you?” Duncan fires back, trying to mask his obvious interest.

You loudly laugh at his failed attempt, inching closer to his face.

“What makes me think that? Probably the fact that I made you rock hard two days in a row, without actually doing much. But maybe you just like to get off by grinding like a damn schoolboy dealing with his first boner.” You confidently answer with a challenging smile.

Duncan is absolutely raging at this point. And that’s when he decides that he’s not going to take any shit from you anymore.

He grips your hair tightly, making you walk backwards until your bottom is pressed on the edge of the desk.

His free hand clutches around your throat and your eyes widen with intrigue.

“A damn schoolboy dealing with his first boner?” He spitefully repeats, his voice at least two tones lower. When you don’t answer, Duncan mischievely smirks, flashing his perfect teeth at you.

He intentionally brushes his lips against yours and you close your eyes just for a second at the feeling, loving the softness of his mouth. The hand that was occupied at gripping your hair now closing around your back, pushing your body onto his own; you put your hands on his chest to balance yourself as you realize there’s not even an inch of space left between you two, and somehow, you don’t mind.

A sudden lust takes over your body and you feel the need to officially close the distance by bringing your lips onto his.

When you attempt to do so, he roughly grabs your face, holding your cheeks with both palms to make you stop in your tracks; you look up at him with your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Oh, how the tables have turned.” He whispers, silently letting you remember of how you turned him down the day before. And the day before that.

You are about to tell him to fuck off and demand him to leave, even if the wetness pooling between your thighs is begging for his attention, when he suddenly turns you around. He grips your hair again, forcing your head to rest on his shoulder; his other hand abruptly grabs your waist to make your body press completely against his front and you can’t help but be turned on by his extreme roughness.  

“Bend over.” He commands, groaning in your ear.

You look at him with longing eyes, your mouth slightly agape as you consider if you should just let him or instead take control of the situation. Your indecision fades almost instantly when you feel his hot lips leave languid, open-mouthed kisses on your neck, him still holding you in place by a firm clutch on your hair and hip.

You obscenely moan at his actions, nipping your bottom lip in shame.

Duncan smiles into the curve of your neck, his tongue larving against your pulse point as he bites your soft skin in the process. The hand on your hip trails upward, stopping at your right breast to give it a firm squeeze through your short, baby pink, long-sleeved dress. You give into your pleasure as you can’t help but arch your back, making your ass press against his growing bulge.

You hear him groaning in his throat before pulling away from your neck.

“I said, bend the fuck over.” He grips your hair even tighter and you wince in pain.

You do as he says, leaning down on your desk with your arms stretching forward.

You watch Duncan from your shoulder as he quickly hikes up your dress, revealing your soaked up panties.

He bites his bottom lip while he shamelessly stares at your clothed core, one hand instantly rubbing you just to test your wetness.

Your breath becomes more and more erratic when you feel his other palm squeezing your ass cheeks.

“You make fun of me for getting hard and then here you are, bent over on your desk, already fucking dripping.” He hoarsely points out while his digits press hard on your entrance, as if he’s trying to finger you through your underwear.

“Fuck you.” You say, turning your head to look at him as much as the uncomfortable position allows you.

He devilishly snickers upon you, slowly leaning down on your back.

“Oh but isn’t that what you want, sweetheart? For me to fuck you?” He groans in your ear as his hand tugs at your hair again, forcing your head to lift off the desk.

“Answer me.” He demands while bucking his lower body into yours, his clothed cock pressing hard against your bum.

“I do, but only because then you’ll stop annoying me.” You tell him in a whisper, trying to hold onto what’s left of your pride.

He grinds against you once again, one arm enclosing around your stomach to press your body completely against his own.

“I thought you were smarter, princess.” He says in a mocking tone, earning a confused gaze from you.

“What makes you think that once you give yourself to me, I won’t come back for more? I have a feeling that I will.” He moves your hair to one side to bite you just below your ear, making you inhale in frustration.

If it was a competition, he’d be winning this round for sure.

He doesn’t wait for you to answer, he just straightens his posture and then you feel his fingers grasping the waistband of your panties.

You sink your face on the desk as soon as he slips down your underwear, hissing when you feel the air hitting your dripping cunt.

You gulp when you hear him chuckling behind you, one of his legs placing itself between yours to spread them apart and give him a better look.

“Oh, the things I wanna do to this pretty pussy.” He groans while his index and middle fingers slide up and down your slit, collecting your slickness.

You moan at his filthy words, getting wetter by the second. He suddenly stops, and then you feel his knee pressing hard on your most private part.

“Remember when you did this to me?” He asks you, gripping your hips hard when you start shifting around.

“Don’t you fucking move.”  He hisses through his teeth, giving your ass a firm, hard slap.

“Fuck.” You moan at the stinging sensation and automatically arch your back, almost as if you’re asking for more.

“If you think I’m going to make this easy for you, after all the shit you’ve put me through....you’re so fucking wrong, sweetheart.” He warns you before smacking your bum again, getting off on the sensual sounds you’re releasing.

He roughly grabs your hair, making you stand up. You take this chance to turn around and hit his chest with your hands balled into fists.

Though Duncan is quick to grip your wrists, laughing at the resistance you’re still putting him through.

“I fucking despise you.” You breathe on his face, earning a shit-grin smile from him.

“I liked you better a few seconds ago, when the only sounds leaving that pretty mouth of yours were your own fucking moans.” He says while one of his hands leave the hold on your wrist to cup your sex instead.

You close your eyes and whimper in pleasure when two of his fingers apply the tiniest pressure on your clit, then stay still there.

You perfectly know what he’s doing: you know he’s teasing you for all the times you left him all hot and bothered, just like you know you kind of deserve this.

“That’s what I was talking about.” He praises your moan by licking a stripe up your throat, making you grind your cunt against his static fingers.

Duncan tsks at you as his other hand clutches around your throat, “If you want my fingers, beg for it.”

You arch your brows, humorously puffing out at his request, “I beg no fucking one.”

“Still playing hard to get, princess? Really?” He smugly snickers at you. You’re about to reply when he suddenly slaps your pussy, making you gasp.

“Drop the act already.” Duncan mumbles in your ear, taking the lobe between his teeth.

You lick your lips, thrusting your lower body into his flattened palm to gain some friction.

Duncan chuckles at your eagerness as his lips attack your neck; sucking, licking and biting, hard.

Without a warning, he pushes two fingers inside you, making you exhale a low “fuck” at the intrusion.

He groans, “You’re even tighter than I imagined you would be, and it’s just my fucking fingers.”

You feel your cheeks heating up at his dirty talk as you close your eyes and grip his shoulders for support, leaning your head on his broad figure.

Duncan pushes his digits deep inside you, stretching you out for a bit until he abruptly stops and pulls out.

You lift your gaze up to meet his lustful one, irritation taking over your features.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

He doesn’t answer you, he just stares deep into your eyes as he brings the fingers that were previously inside you up to his mouth, his full lips eagerly sucking on them.

He lets out a low grunt and you breathe heavily at the sight, completely entranced by it.

“Who would’ve thought that a bitter bitch like you would taste so sweet?” He asks in a smirk, making you boil with anger.

You inhale deeply, “I’m gonna fucking kill-“

He doesn’t let you finish the sentence as he slams his lips onto yours, one hand grabbing your hair while the other finds its way around your throat.

You both moan in each other’s mouth as your hands tightly ball up his shirt to bring him closer.

There’s not even an ounce of gentleness in the kiss you’re sharing: your tongues are greedily sweeping against one other while his hand forcefully tugs at your hair to remind you who’s in charge this time. Your hand slowly creeps down his chest, your nails purposely scratching in their way, until your fingertips stop just above his trousers. You cup him through them, moaning at how hard he is. You smile triumphantly when you feel him groaning in your mouth and grinding against your palm. You’re the first one to break the kiss, and as you both try to catch your breath, you promptly place your hands on his chest, shoving him until he’s walking backwards to the bed. You push him down on it, climbing on his lap as he brings you in for another rough, needy kiss. Duncan bites your bottom lip as he suddenly grabs your waist, pushing you down on his leg. As if your body got a mind of its own, you instantly rub your sex on his muscular tigh, making the brunette‘s gaze fall down on it.

“That’s it. Ride my fucking thigh.” He demands, bouncing his leg up and keeping you in place with his other hand holding your hip.

You start rocking yourself back and forth, pulling on the curls at the nape of his neck as he closes his eyes and lets out a guttural moan. You take advantage of the situation and starts leaving hot kisses on the inside of his neck, bruising his skin in the process, until he roughly grips your throat to make you focus on him.

“Look at me.” He says with his lips curled up into a smirk, the hand on your waist setting a speedy rythm of your hips as you hold his intense gaze.

Your moves are quick and erratic, using the man underneath you to chase your orgasm as he watches you in awe. You feel his hand creeping down your spine until it’s gripping one of your buttocks, making you throw your head back when he slaps your ass and urges you to go faster.

The friction you’re gaining from riding his clothed leg and his rough smacks on your bum soon turn you into a moaning mess, and it’s not long after that you feel the familiar tingle forming in your belly getting ready to explode. You rest your head on his shoulder, panting and gripping his arms as you close your eyes and prepare yourself to cum all over him…but of course Duncan has other plans for you.

“I think you’ve had enough fun.” He says in a raspy, low voice, as he stops your movements by gripping your hips so hard you’re sure there’ll be bruises by the end of it.

You furiously blink your widened eyes at him, ready to scream in his face as soon as you realize that he has just denied you of your orgasm; then he suddenly forces you to stand up and you can’t help but feel embarassed when you see the wet patch on his pants.

He follows your gaze, chuckling.

“You owe me so much.” He murmurs while his hands grip the edges of your dress to pull it over your head.

Duncan licks his lips as he takes in the sight of your almost naked body: your lacy red bra and your black high heels being the only clothing items on you.

Your mind’s in a daze as you try to comprehend his words.

 “What the fuck do you mean?”

“I mean, get on your knees and make it up for all the times you left me blue balled. Let’s see if you were worth the trouble.” He snarls as you watch him unbuckling his pants.

When you just stand there, still panting heavely in front of him, Duncan grips your hair to bring your face down onto his.

 “I’m not asking you. I’m telling you. Get down.”

You only smirk at him, taking his bottom lip between your teeth and pulling hard, making him rumble in his chest. You lower yourself on the floor, never breaking eye contact with the man above you, parting his legs so your face is eye-level with his crotch.

He licks his lips, running a hand through your hair in an almost loving way, until he grips hard at your roots and guides your head towards his clothed cock.

You give him an innocent flutter of your eyes as you quickly undress him of his trousers, Duncan hungrily watching your every move.

You wet your lips when you see the outline of his manhood straining in his boxers, finally freeing him from its constrictions; you waste no time into wrapping your hand around his massive shaft, your closed fist slowly slides up and down his member as your eyes stay locked on his blue ones. You dip your head to give him a long, slow lick from the base up to the tip, twirling your tongue around the pink head for a bit before closing your lips around it.

“Fuck.” Duncan curses, throwing his head back.

“I know you’ve been dreaming about this.” You tell him with a sultry voice, making sure to brush your lips against his dick with each word coming out of your mouth.

Duncan lets out a strangled moan, “You think you’re in control?”

You only smirk in confirmation, giving a hard squeeze to his cock that makes him hiss.

He peers down at you, a predatory look on his face as he yanks your hair.

“Because you’re not, you fucking bitch. Now, stop wasting my time.” And with that, he forces his length inside your mouth, making your eyes widen.

“That’s it.” He growls when he feels you enthusiastically sucking on his cock.

You look up at him as your head starts bobbing up and down.

He lets out an animalistic groan at the sight, both of his hands putting your hair up into a messy ponytail as he starts to ruthlessly fuck your mouth.

You allow him, opening wide to the borderline impossible until you feel tears welling up in the corners of your eyes. Duncan’s sensitive head hits the back of your throat, making you gag on it and earning a loud growl from him.

“Choke on my cock.” He grunts, pushing your head so deep on his member that your nose grazes against his pelvic area. You scrunch your eyes shut, staying still there as long as you can; you then scratch your nails on his thighs, silently telling him to loosen the hold on you. Duncan’s growls are replaced by a spiteful laugh as he pulls his dick out from your mouth.

The brunette spreads your saliva on his shaft, staring down at you while biting his lip, and he can’t help but think that the mere sight underneath him could be enough to make him come. You look absolutely divine, with your watery, doe-like eyes, your flushed cheeks, your lips swollen and glistening, and your once well-combed hair now being a total mess.

You are fighting hard to steady your breath but only a few seconds go by until Duncan guides your head towards his cock again, resuming his merciless pace.

“You act all tough, thinking to be in control of everything, but here you are on your fucking knees right where you belong, sucking my cock like the good girl I knew you were.”

You moan around him, sending vibrations through his body and making his stomach clench.

It’s when Duncan taps his member on your flattened tongue that you hear him snickering above you. You look up to find his stare fixated on something in the room.

“I think your boyfried is enjoying the show.” He tells you, making you furrow your brows in confusion.

You retract your mouth from him to follow his gaze and see Michael standing at the doorway with his arms crossed, a stoical expression on his face. You wonder how in hell you didn’t hear his footsteps or even the door opening and closing behind you, meanwhile you and the Antichrist stare intensely at each other.

Duncan arches his brows, focusing his attention back on you.

“Well? Get back to work.” He tells you nonchalantly before trying to shove himself inside your mouth again, as if there’s not someone watching him getting his dick sucked.

You stop Duncan and then turn to Michael, smirking up at him.

“Come here.”

The brunette blinks a few times; his gaze switches from you to the long-haired man, his brows furrowed in concentration as he tries to understand what’s going on.

Michael does what you say, slowly strolling until he’s hovering over the both of you.

The blond watches you intently as you try to read his beautiful, unconcerned face. All of your doubts about him still being angry with you fade as soon as you feel his hand petting your head, his fingers gently brushing through your locks.

You smile up at him as you grab his palm, squeezing it and pulling him down towards you. He takes the hint, kneeling beside you and never breaking your stare. You grab his face and kiss him excitedly, making him moan in your mouth when he gets to taste Duncan’s salty pre-cum on your tongue. One of Michael’s hands curves around the nape of your neck as he tilts his head to the side to deepen the kiss, while the other lovingly caresses the back of your bare thighs. He’s a total different Michael from the one you’ve encountered minutes before, completely contrasting Duncan’s attitude too.

You break apart, and you feel your heart melting when the Antichrist gives you a small, closed smile. You immediately get that he’s silently agreeing to take part in this, just like you planned. You return his grin before you both look up to Duncan: he’s confused, but you can tell by the way he nibbles at his bottom lip that he’s turned on by the little make-out session he has just witnessed.

You bat your eyelashes at him and bite your bottom lip to fight a smirk.

“Have you ever been sucked by another man before?”

The brunette’s breath hitches in his throat.

“No.”

Michael chuckles, flashing him a wicked smile.

“You’ve been missing out then.” He confidently speaks, making Duncan gulp.

He stays silent, not exactly knowing how to answer. You return your attention to Michael, peppering kisses along his flawless profile: you start at his cheek, then move on his defined jawline and ultimately on his neck, licking and sucking on his porcelain skin. He delightfully mewls and closes his eyes when you slide your fingertips across his lips, trailing them down his chin until they are wrapped around his pretty, delicate throat. You give him a slight squeeze and he turns your face to yours.

You swipe your thumb on the inside of his neck, smiling and brushing your lips to his ear.

“Make him a fucking mess.” You whisper, biting his lobe.

He groans and you guide his head towards Duncan’s cock, taking him fully into his mouth. Your hand flies from his throat to the back of his head, furthering him down on the brunette’s shaft.

You look up to notice Duncan’s dilated pupils, his mouth slightly agape as he lets out heavy breaths. His body is tense, and you know he’s trying to adjust to this new man on man intercourse. It feels strange to him, he never even considered the idea of having sex with a another boy before, but here he is now, getting suctioned by the most beautiful guy he has ever seen. Duncan is rigid and nervous, but he can’t deny the pleasure he’s gaining from Langdon’s greedy lips sucking his tip like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do.

He looks down to find Langdon hollowing his cheeks around his shaft, his signature red eyeshadow popping out and his blonde, long locks gleaming in the dimly-lit room. The longer he stares at him, the longer his arousal grows, making him grip his pretty blonde hair while also earning a satisfied smirk from you.

Michael moans around him, soliciting Duncan’s hips to buck up.

You move the Antichrist’s hair from his shoulders to have a better view of him getting face fucked by non other than Duncan Shepherd, licking his cheek when you see him angling Duncan’s cock against it.

You busy yourself  by unbuckling Michael’s pants, your hand instantly sneaking inside his tight trousers to grope his pulsing cock. Another moan escapes his lips, making Duncan curse under his breath.

“Fuck. He’s so good at this.” He grumbles with his eyes closed. You smile as Michael pulls him out of his mouth to lick a stripe from his balls up to his head, fervidly sucking on it. Feeling left out, your free hand starts stroking the brunette’s shaft up and down with a little twisting motion of your wrist.

“Good girl.” Duncan praises right before you decide to join Michael and start to kitten-lick the brunette’s length.

“Holy shit.” He continues in a breath, throwing his head back; both of his hands now tangling in yours and Michael’s hair.

You move your mouth up, gliding your lips on Duncan’s tip until your tongue meets Michael’s warm one. You make eye-contact as both of you lick and kiss on each side of the brunette’s member, until Michael roughly grabs your face to exchange a sloppy kiss.

“Keep touching me.” He orders you between kisses, making you moan. As you keep stroking Duncan, your other hand releases Michael’s cock from its restraints, rubbing him up and down while spreading his pre-cum everywhere.

Duncan strongly tugs at your hair, forcing you to break away from Michael and stand on your feet. Still kneeling beside you, Michael takes this chance to leave a hard smack on your ass.

“Fuck.” You squeal as Duncan muffles out the sound by bringing your lips together. You hear Michael standing up and getting rid of his clothes before placing himself behind you; one of his hands brushes your hair off your shoulder and slides your bra straps down as he kisses along the newly exposed skin.

Duncan expertly unclasps your bra, letting it fall on the floor. Still bruising your lips, he gropes both of your breasts into his palms, squeezing hard and making your head fall back. The brunette leans his head on your chest, his lips instantly enclosing around one of your hardened nipples as your hand reaches behind you to bring Michael in for a kiss. The Antichrist presses your back firmly on his front, letting his erect cock grind against your backside, which leads you both to moan in each other’s mouths. One of his hands reaches forward to lazily rub circles on your clit right when Duncan bites your bud and spits on it. You and Michael break apart to see the brunette’s saliva slowly striking down your breast, his thumb collecting some of it to rub it all over your nipple as he gently blows cold air on it, making you arch your back and cry out in pleasure.

“I need you. Both of you.” You admit with heavy breaths, looking between them.

Michael smirks while Duncan grips your throat.

“Get on the bed, doll.”

The brunette instructs before discarding the rest of his clothes.

“And don’t take off your heels, I wanna fuck you in them.”

He tells you when you are about to slip off your shoes, making you stop in your tracks.

“I’m sure Langdon agrees with me.”

He continues with a smirk, looking at the man behind you.

You hear Michael snorting while his hand runs fervently over your firm ass, kneading the smooth skin.

“Couldn’t agree more.”

You run your tongue on your front teeth, turning around to smirk up at Michael.

You instantly move on the bed, laying down with one leg bent upwards as you feel four blue eyes burning holes into you.

Duncan licks his lips, eyeing you up and down until he plops on the bed with Michael following behind.

You lean on your elbows as you watch the brunette placing himself above you, one hand not-so-gently wrapping around your throat.

He smirks upon you, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and pulling hard. You bring your hand through his brown locks, gripping at the roots.

He groans, catching hold of your hips to flip you over.

Of course he’s going to take you from behind, you think.

You hear Michael chuckling and you gaze up at him, flashing him a knowing glance. He’s just read your mind, the little shit.

Your grin dies down as soon as you feel Duncan’s hard cock rubbing between your ass cheeks, his hands roughly spreading your legs wide and open.

“You’re so fucking wet.” He states while moving two fingers up and down your slick entrance.

You bite your bottom lip when you decide to tease him a little.

“Yeah, you should thank Langdon for that.” You say in a cocky tone, watching him from your shoulder.

Michael smiles, shaking his head at your remark.

Duncan, on the other hand, is not laughing at all; he flares his nostrils and you see his eyes getting darker.

“You fucking brat.” He mutters, spanking you hard.

You whine and sink your face down on the pillow, yet Duncan is quick to grip your hair.

“Last time I checked, Langdon was not the one having you bent over like a fucking whore on your desk with your legs spread wide open and your pussy dripping.”

Another slap comes down on your ass, making you exhale a low “fuck”.

“Last time I checked, that was me.” He continues, smacking your ass one more time before lining up his cock at your entrance.

“I’m gonna make you fucking regret all the times you ran that slutty mouth of yours.” He promises, licking the shell of your ear.

You moan out, “You can try, Duncan Shepherd.”

And with that, he fully enters your tight hole.

He lets out a lustful grunt, scrunching his eyes shut and throwing his head back.

You cry out at his impressive cock stretching you out, your hands instantly fisting around the satin covers of your bed.

“So fucking tight.” He whispers, his breath crashing on your neck and making you shiver.

“She is.” Michael confirms from the other side of the bed, as you and Duncan follow the sound of his voice to catch him stroking his cock at the scene playing in front of his eyes.

The brunette slides out completely before impaling you again, repeating the action until you are frenetically rubbing your backside against him, silently asking him to fully take you.

“Duncan.” You manage to blurt out through moans.

“Yes? He asks nonchalantly, thrusting his cock head inside you.

You push back on him, trying to get him inside but he immediately grabs your hips and strains you down on the mattress, his hold on you making you completely motionless.

“If you want my cock so bad, you know what you have to do.” He tells you with a grin.

“Beg, and it’s all yours.” He continues in a whisper, biting hard on your shoulder.

You feel one hand petting your hair, and you look up to see Michael looking down at you with his cock mere centimeters away from your face.

“Beg.” He seconds the brunette, his hand flying from your hair to your cheek to gently caress it; his thumb starts tracing your pouted lips as he smirks down at you.

You consider his words, finally deciding to swallow down your pride.

“Duncan, please.”

He snickers, “You don’t sound really convincing.”

You roll your eyes, making the blond giggle above you.

You take a deep breath, trying to contain the desire of wanting to snap Duncan Shepherd’s neck.

“Duncan, please, fuck me. I need you. I need your cock inside me. Please.” You confidently tell him with a raise of your voice.

He moans at your begging, “That wasn’t so difficult, was it?”

“Shut up and fuck me already.” You demand while arching your back.

He happily obliges, pushing his cock deep inside you.

Your deep moans and Duncan’s heavy grunts cut through the air, leading Michael to come closer to you.

“Don’t give her time to adjust, just pound into her sweet cunt.” The blond speaks directly to Duncan to which he responds by mercilessly fucking into you. One hand is bruising your hip as the other is tightly fisted in your hair; your eyes are shut and your mouth is agape, moaning like you never did before. Duncan is completely splitting you open, delighting himself in the feeling of your tight, wet walls squeezing around him.

“You’re gonna take every fucking inch of my cock now.” The brunette announces before burying his whole length deep inside you.

“Fuck.” You scream out, the sound only encouraging him to fuck you faster and harder.

“You’re doing so good, love. This is what you wanted, right? To be split in two by him. My baby girl always gets what she wants.” Michael tells you, bending down to shut your sobs with his mouth.

Duncan suddenly tugs hard at your hair to bring his lips near your ear.

“So you wanted me all along?” He hisses through his teeth.

You feel his hand coming down on your ass, “Such a bad girl.”

You can’t get any word out of your mouth, even if you want to, you just can’t.

You see Michael lowering down on your back and then you hear the sloppy, unmistakable sounds of lips on lips. You grunt in disapproval as you realize that the position you are in does not let you witness the two handsome men making out with each other.

Michael deeply savours Duncan’s mouth, loving the way his beard scratch against his smooth skin. The brunette is so drunk on the pleasure your cunt is giving him that the realization of being kissed by another man doesn’t hit him at all.  

Instead, he just lets go. It feels so right to him as he hungrily slides his tongue inside Michael’s mouth, biting and bruising his plump, delicious lips.

Michael breaks apart, panting heavely against Duncan’s mouth.

The Antichrist then straightens his back, grabbing your hair in the process to align his cock on your parted lips.

“Suck.” He tells you, painting your mouth with his precum.

“I want to feel my cock down your throat.”

He continues, and you do as he says.

You close your soft lips around Michael’s sensitive tip and he groans at the feeling of your warm mouth around him. He’s already so sensitive, his previous jerking having him worked so far up that he can feel his orgasm approaching already. The blond looks down at you to see that your big, glassy eyes are already staring back up at him, the sight alone making him rumble in his chest.

Duncan’s deep, ruthless thrusts behind you make your head bob around Michael and unintentionally take him further down your throat, leading you to detach your mouth from him to regain some breath.

“I’m so close.” You cry out, and you can tell they are too.

Michael brings your lips back on his cock, grabbing your face with both palms to keep you in place as he starts to fuck your mouth; the bobbing of your head makes your hair fly everywhere and ticke his legs as he growls even louder at the sensation.

Duncan picks up the pace, looking down to where your bodies are connected, and he grunts: the view of your round ass now being red from his earlier spanking and his cock disappearing into your hot, wet pussy is enough to make him throb inside you.

He reaches forward to furiously rub circles all over your clit, Michael’s cock muffling your breathless moans as you push your ass back on Duncan to meet his thrusts.

“That’s it, swirl your tongue around me.” The Antichrist commands, gripping your hair so hard you actually feel pain.

You cry out around him when Duncan suddenly yanks your hair back, making you detach your mouth from your best friend.

He completely pulls out of you before flipping you over.

“I want to see that lovely face of yours when I fill you up with my cum.” He explains with a smirk before entering you again. You instantly wrap your legs around him as your heels press hard on his calves, making him hiss.

“Don’t forget about me.” Michael taps his index finger on your cheek, leading you to turn your head to his wet, throbbing cock.

You lean on your elbows and take him in your mouth again, sucking your cheeks inward as your tongue drags up and down his shaft.

Michael throws his head back and closes his eyes, moaning out uncontrollably. The hold on your hair gets tighter as you feel him twitching in your mouth.

Duncan’s hand clutches around your throat, a malicious smile growing proudly on his face.

“Cum on her face.” He says, looking up to Michael.

Your eyes widen and you have to blink a few times to process his words.

“Don’t you think that such a pretty face like hers should be painted with your cum, Langdon?” The brunette continues, pinching one of your nipples.

Michael mutters a low “fuck”, before pulling his dick out of your mouth to stroke it in his palm.

You seize the opportunity to regain your breath as Duncan’s lips lick and suck on your neck, his fingers still rapidly drawing figures on your pulsating bud.

“Feels so fucking good.” Duncan grunts right after you clench around him, earning a high pitched sigh from you.

Michael snaps a hold on your hair, bringing your attention back on him.

“Look at me.” He tells you with his voice broken with need.

You close your eyes when you feel Michael’s first spurts hitting your face, his sensual, deep growls fill the room as he comes hard on your features.

Duncan watches the scene in awe, his thumb instantly collecting some of Michael’s cum to bring it up your mouth and force his finger inside.

You suck on it, hollowing your cheeks around his digit and never breaking eye-contact with him.

“You’re such a dirty girl.” He tells you with a smirk, making you smile around his finger.

He then grabs your face and kisses you roughly, not caring about Michael’s hot liquid sticking to him as his thrusts become sloppier.

You feel your best friend crawling beside you on the bed, leaving a tender kiss on your scalp right before focusing his stare on Duncan fucking into you.

Your thoughts grow cloudy with lust as you let out a squeal, scratching Duncan’s back with your nails when your orgasm hits you like a trainwreck.

“That’s it, cum all over my cock.” Duncan huffes out above you, your climax soliciting his own and it’s not long after that he fills your tight hole with a low, deep growl.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He says between his final thrusts, emptying his load inside you.

You lick your lips, taking in the sight of Duncan Shepherd having his eyes shut and his brows scrunched, panting heavely above you as some of Michael’s cum lingers on his beard.

You grab the back of his neck to pull him in for a kiss as he withdraws his member from you, the act making you both sigh in each other’s mouth.

Duncan tosses himself beside you, his eyes are still closed as he runs a hand through his messed up curls. You watch the brunette for a brief second before turning on your side to face Michael, snuggling against his chest.

He chuckles, “You’re sticky.”

He then engulfs your body with his arms, right after smearing some of his still very present cum on your face in a playful way.

“Shut up.” You giggle at him, wiping down some of it with the back of your hand.

Duncan opens his eyes, gazing up at you both.

“I don’t think I’ve ever got your names”, he says through weak exhales.

Michael looks up at him, a small smile growing on his face.

“I’m Michael, and she’s Y/N.”

“Alright, Michael and Y/N.” He repeats, tasting the names on his tongue.

“You can stay here for the night.” The blond continues, making you look up from his chest.

“Michael, I don’t think that’s a good-“ You try to talk back, but he interuppts you immediately.

“If someone sees him leaving your office, they would get suspicious about it. You know that.” He says in a serious tone.

You narrow your eyes, “That’s his concern.”

You hear Duncan huffing behind you, “Did you have to get a fucking degree to become a professional bitch or are you always just like that?”

Michael sighs, “She’s always like that.”

You give him a death glare before turning your head to face Duncan.

“Whatever. Stay here if you want, I don’t care.”

He smirks while his hand reaches forward to brush his fingers on your right cheek.

“I think you have something on your face.” He jokes, making Michael laugh.

You instantly swat his palm away, “Fuck off.”

Tags: @ritualmichael @queencocoakimmie @sammythankyou @langdonsdemon @langdonscody @lovelykhaleesiii @duncvn @satansapostle @heyworld07 @tickled--pinkmoodpoisoning @gerkatherine @pink----matter @xtheinevitableprophecyx @avesatanormalpeoplescareme 

[shimmershaewrites]

Random bits and lines from Caryl fics that could have been.  Still maybe could be, if I ever get rid of this big ball of hurt and disappointment in the pit of my belly.

1.   

 Merle's all hyped up when he busts through the trailer door.  Dumps the six pack in his arms on the lumpy sofa and just grins at him. 

 It's not the coat hanger grin Daryl's so used to suffering when his brother's at his most obnoxious or the manic baring of teeth that usually accompanies one of his drug-fueled spirals.  No.  This one's full of...wonder?  "Hell's wrong with you?"

 "Ask me what I just saw off Mile Marker 73.  Go 'head.  Ask me," he all but begs, bending down to free a beer from its plastic necklace.  Liberates another one and tosses it at him with no warning. 

 Daryl grunts.  Rubs at the sore spot on his chest through the sweat-dampened cotton of his wife-beater.  Scowls at the asshole as he pops the tab.  Shit ain't even cold.  It's lukewarm at best and goddammit do they need a better place.  A place with a working air conditioning unit and a couch that doesn't try to probe him in the ass every time he has a lapse in judgment and sits down in it. To be honest, he could really care less what Merle saw and he tells him so.  Plain to his face.  "Fuck do I care?"  His brother cares even less that he doesn't care, though.  Just blurts it all out like Daryl didn't even say nothing. 

 "Just saw Julia Fucking Roberts with a baby hanging off her tit.  Right there on the side of the road." 

 Daryl scoffs into his beer.  Looks up and peers into his brother's eyes, his earlier assumptions in doubt.  They're bright and his pupils are normal, but still.  "You high?"

 "That any kind of question to ask your big brother?"

 "Merle!" Daryl barks. 

 2. 

  "Tomorrow isn't a promise, Daryl.  It's a wish.  A dream.  And those?  They don't always come true." 

  3. 

  "Been watching tv with your ball busting daughter.  Kid's 14 going on 40." 

  4. 

  He hesitates again and her fingers curl into her palm.  Press until she can feel the little crescent moons branded on her skin.  She tries to bite her tongue--she really does--but the part of her that came roaring back to painful life seeing him there on her doorstep the first time, so much loss mixed with longing in his blue eyes, it rushes headlong into salvation or Hell.  She doesn't know which.  She can't say she even cares anymore. 

    5. 

  He’s got her panties stripped down to her ankles, her tee shirt shoved up around her neck, and his greedy mouth mapping out each rib beneath her satin skin, two fingers buried knuckle deep when the bedroom door opens without warning, and it’s every parent’s nightmare; not that he

is

a parent, but Carol is, and she does what he figures any rational, self-respecting parent would do in this particular panicked situation:  she shoves his head further down her body and yanks the comforter they’d kicked to the foot of the bed during their

extracurricular

activities over his bare ass all the way up to her chin, calls out her little girl’s name in a voice that’s a little higher pitched than normal but welcoming all the same.  “Sophia.” 

  6.  

    Kid’s eyes get bigger with each swirl of the butter knife through the bowl of chocolate icing and Daryl don’t blame her one bit because it’s the good stuff.  Thick and rich, enough cocoa in it to jumpstart a dead man’s heart, and

damn

.   7. 

  Daryl eats his fill of pasta.  Soaks it all up with a little too much wine because the company’s good but he ain’t used to the talking no more or the carefree laughs.  The shared looks between the two men are too much.  Too happy in the middle of this hell on earth, too intimate, and eventually, well.  It starts to get to him—being the third wheel. 

  Aaron doesn’t even seem surprised when he pushes back from the table and mumbles his goodbyes. 

  He sees himself out.  Stumbles just the slightest bit on the next to last step before he grabs the railing, looks up at the Virginia moon so big and so bright and lets the crisp night air wash over his flushed cheeks while he gathers his thoughts and his equilibrium. 

  8. 

 Really not sure if I posted this one or not.  Anyway, it's an unfinished challenge fic, so. 

  Off your rocker

     “Draw the short end of the stick again, Son?” 

  Hitching the worn strap of his crossbow higher over the round of his shoulder, Daryl merely grunts in response.  It’s neither an affirmation nor a denial, but if the old man is bothered by it, he doesn’t let it show.  It certainly doesn’t shut him up anyway.  Ain’t much of anything can do

that,

he reckons.  Might’ve taken the retired vet a while to warm up to the whole lot of them—warm, weren’t that a nice, fine, foreign concept these days—but now that he has?  He hasn’t looked back.   

  Unperturbed, Hershel steers the one-sided conversation forward in his rambling drawl.  “While I appreciate the continued pleasure of your company, I’m perfectly capable of handling such delicate matters on my own.” 

  Daryl snorts. Ain’t nothing delicate ‘bout these trips just beyond the tree line and they both know it. 

Still

.  Could be worse.  Could be partnered up with Dog if he hadn’t developed a predilection for playing nanny to that little shit Carl in the misguided notion that he was going to keep the boy out of trouble.  You ask him, the kid’s middle name started with a big ass T.  “Ain’t my rule.  Rick’s.  Think I wanna…” 

  “Play babysitter to an old man?” 

  Daryl huffs.  “Now you’re just puttin’ words in my mouth.”  Briefly glancing back, he shakes his head.  “Y’ain’t old.”  Without missing a beat, he mutters a clarification, one corner of his mouth turning up so slightly even

he

wasn’t sure if it was a smile or not.  “You’re ancient.  Bit of a difference.” 

  Far from being offended, Hershel chuckles.  “That so?”

  With a shrug of his broad shoulders, Daryl nods.  “Way I see it, you got experience.” 

  “Experience?”

  “Life experience.  Lots of it.  Them assholes back at camp?  Don’t have much if they have any.  Least not the kind that’s going to help them survive in this world.  You do.”  He might lack in table-taught manners—he’s a Dixon, after all—but he’s got common sense in spades, and he don’t ever say something he don’t mean.  Following in his wake, the old man falls uncharacteristically silent, likely digesting his words.  It ain’t often Daryl doles out words of praise and they both know it. 

  Nearing a fallen log, Hershel slows.  “Here.” 

  Scanning their immediate surroundings for any hint of unwanted company and finding none, Daryl looks up and squints into the pale Winter sun.  With much of their food source in hibernation or holed up in whatever bit of shelter to found, the dead were decaying and sluggish in this dick-shrinking cold. 

Still

.  “Here?” 

  “Here.” 

  “Alright.  Good a place as any.”  Putting his back to the nearest tree and averting his narrowed gaze, he shoulders his crossbow and tries not to cringe at the telltale clink of the old man’s belt.  Ain’t no such thing as privacy anymore and it’s a damn shame because he can think of a hundred and one other things he’d rather be doing right about now.  Like hunting.  Too bad the only squirrel he sees, skittering from tree to spindly tree, is too scrawny to be worth the effort.  Knowing Carol, she’d probably fork it over to the little parasite taking up residence in Lori’s womb anyway.  Thoughts of the woman’s foolish disregard for her own well-being over others make him shake his head to himself.  He wonders would it have been different.  If he had walked out of those woods with her little girl, would she treat herself with as much care as strangers not even worth half her salt?  He’s pulled from that line of thinking by the old man’s nonchalant request. 

  “Mind handing me some of them leaves over there, Son?” 

  Carefully avoiding any eye contact, Daryl doesn’t draw out the task.  That would only make the situation even more embarrassing.  He hands over the leaves and straightens, clearing his throat uncomfortably as he delves beneath the cover of his poncho for a pack of cigarettes he knows isn’t there.  Smokes might not be a necessity for survival, but fuck if he don’t miss them. 

Damn

meddling

woman

, he thinks, peering through the trees at the way they’d come, barely able to make out Beth and the woman in question.  Course, the gesture doesn’t go unnoticed.  Old man’s smart enough not to poke a stick at a bear, though.  Least Daryl thinks he is, ‘til he hears what comes out of his mouth next and nearly swallows his own tongue because of it. 

  “Girl’s sweet on you.” 

  He says it like they’re two coworkers enjoying a smoke break.  Not two would-be strangers doing what they’re…doing and hackles raised, Daryl sputters.  Because it’s easier to spit outrage at an unmade accusation than admit a truth that’s too close for comfort.  He might not be well-versed in the ways of women, but like he’d once told Andrea, he’s observant and Carol’s got a soft way ‘bout her anyhow.  Been more than once the look in her pretty blue eyes made him ache for something he ain’t never had.  “The hell.  Ain’t into kids.” 

  “Good to know,” Hershel says conversationally.  “Wasn’t talking about my daughter, Son.  Neither one of them.  But we both know

that

.  Besides.  You walk this earth long enough, anybody younger than you becomes a kid.”    

  Daryl lifts his thumbnail to his mouth and gnaws, piercing the abused skin with blunt teeth.  “Off your rocker, Old Man.”  The quip he gets in return is quick and expected. 

  “Comes with the territory of being ancient, I imagine.” 

  “Man, you got your pasty white ass hangin’ out in the wind and you wanna gossip?”  Flustered as he is, he keeps his voice low, his agitated footfall just as quiet as he whirls around to jab his finger right beneath the old man’s nose.  He hasn’t made it this far being a dumbass.  “You don’t know nothin’.” 

  Taking a moment to rezip his fly and wipe his hands on a rag, Hershel calmly stands to his full height and looks down at him.  He doesn’t bother to hide his smirk when he uses Daryl’s own words against him or the knowing twinkle in his eyes.  “Said it yourself, Son.  I’m old

and

experienced.  Been around the block a time or two.  Might even say I’ve picked up a few things.  I stand by my word.  That girl’s sweet on you.  Judging from your reaction?  The feeling’s mutual.”  Parting shot fired, he walks away. 

  It takes Daryl but a few seconds to match his easy, deliberate stride.  “Naw. 

Naw

.  The hell you think you’re goin’?” 

      9.    

“We really doing this silent treatment shit?” Daryl grumbled.  Carol’d been giving him the cold shoulder for the better part of the evening, and fuck if he knew why exactly.  Sure, he might have gotten them (just a little) lost—playing cross country navigator in his brother’s borrowed truck wasn’t exactly the same as tracking a buck in the Georgia woods.  And wasn’t she, as a Lit-loving nerd, always preaching that the best roads weren’t always the most traveled ones anyway?  No.  He was reasonably sure the hundred-mile detour from their actual destination point wasn’t the cause of her black mood, and that led him back to square one.  “S’not my fault they only had one room.” 

  She didn’t bother answering him.  She just huffed and marched across the room, heaving her overstuffed duffel bag on top of the dingy bed and starting to dig through it like it held the secrets of the fuckin’ universe. 

  He

wished

because he was floundering.  Some last hurrah this was turning out to be.  Stuck in Bumfuck, Nowheresville in this Bates Motel wannabe with a best friend who’d sooner rip his nuts off than utter a civil word.  Tired and working against developing a foul mood of his own, he tossed his own pack to the foot of the mattress and sighed.  “Got a beer in there?” 

  Carol only paused long enough to roll her eyes at him and glare. 

  “Guessing not,” he muttered.  “Shit.”  When her only reaction was to continue to freeze him out, he sighed again, even deeper than the last time, and dropped to the hard, lumpy mattress.  If she thought he was going to be all chivalrous and shit and offer to sleep on the floor, she had another thing coming.  The carpet was filthy, half the stains defying categorization.  Besides.  Weren’t like they hadn’t shared a bed before.  Course, all those times had predated puberty, but still.  “Sorry, alright?”  She softened for about a second before he unwisely tried to choke himself with his own foot in a dick, Dixon move.  “

Jesus

.  What crawled up your ass?”    10.     Carol hadn’t taken much with her when she’d packed up and left home.  Ed hadn’t allowed it.  Hindsight being 20/20 and all, she should have dug her heels in and demanded an annulment right then, right there.  But she hadn’t.  She’d been numb.  Mired in the fog of a broken heart.  She let her new husband drag her clear across the state of Georgia, hundreds of miles from her mama, her friends,

Daryl

, and she hadn’t said a blessed word.  Didn’t utter a word of protest ‘til her baby girl was born and it became clear that she had fallen

head over heels, hopelessly

in love for the second time in her life, and by then it was too late. 

Story

of

her

life

, she thought, recalling Daryl’s frozen, unreadable expression in

Mary’s

, Jessie’s awkward split-lip smile as the children were formally introduced to each other.  Nanny Sarah always

did

tell her she’d be late to her own funeral. 

[thecsientist]

david singh isn’t blind

Read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/13243989

David Singh knows Barry's dating Starling City's mayor Oliver Queen. How does he know? He has eyes - he's seen ten things to lead him to the belief.

Words: 1506, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: The Flash (TV 2014), Arrow (TV 2012)

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Barry Allen, Oliver Queen

Relationships: Barry Allen/Oliver Queen

Additional tags: Barry isn’t the Flash

David Singh wasn’t blind. He was a detective, after all. He had reason to believe that Barry Allen, the shy CSI who everyone said was in love with Detective West’s daughter, was dating someone. He hadn’t been very proactive with hiding it and David had seen at least ten different indications that he was in a relationship with Starling City’s mayor, Oliver Queen.

1. He was significantly happier.

As a boy who had to live with the trauma of a dead mother and a father with a life sentence, Barry wasn’t the happiest. Sure, he wasn’t depressing, but he often gave David the impression that he was just surviving, not living. Just taking each day as it comes.

Now? Now Barry Allen walked with a spring in his step and a consistent hint of a smile on his face. Every time his phone screen lit up with a new text message, his face glowed along with it as a grin creeped onto his face. Everyone was glad that he was happier, but David couldn’t help but wonder who had been the one to pull Barry back into a happier reality.

2. He began rushing through his work.

David knew that it was unlike Barry to rush through paperwork. Normally, he took his time and messed around with fun little experiments while awaiting a sample analysis. Now, every once in a while, Barry would rush through the paperwork so he could get off work earlier.

“Anywhere you need to get to in such a hurry?” David asked casually as he leafed through Barry’s paperwork to do a quick check. Barry glanced around nervously and answered, “No, no. I’m just tired and I really want to get home early today.”

David knew that wasn’t the real reason. He had been there before, after all, back when he first started dating Rob. He’d done his work in a hurry so he could get back home to his boyfriend. So who exactly was Barry itching to see?

3. The one time he came to work with sex hair and a hickey.

David had noticed it the moment Barry tripped into the precinct. The scent of sex hung heavy in the air around Barry and his eyes landed on the CSI who had a just-fucked daze in his eyes and of course, the obvious hickey he'd poorly hidden on his collarbone. His hair was an absolute mess and his clothes looked as if he’d pulled them on quickly, to avoid being later than he already was.

“Allen, what happened?" David asked, indicating the hickey and his general appearance. Barry glanced down and quickly pulled his jacket over to cover it as he shook his head, “Nothing, Captain. I'm fine.” David raised an eyebrow and watched him run upstairs to his lab. His slight limp didn’t escape David’s attention.

4. At random periods of time, he went out every lunch break.

Barry didn’t always go outside for lunch breaks. The only times he ever did so was if his friends Caitlin Snow and Cisco Ramon weren’t in the mood to get him lunch and Iris was too busy to grab him some coffee. Otherwise, he stayed in his lab and tended to the endless stack of paperwork and folders on his desk.

However, every once in a while, for a week each time, Barry would (without fail) leave the precinct for lunch break before he returned to his normal behavior of staying in the lab during lunch breaks. Joe had confirmed that Barry wasn’t meeting with Iris or the other two scientists. So who exactly was Barry so willing to leave his lab for? Clearly not someone who lived in Central, or Barry would have gone out every lunch break. This person lived in another city and visited a week each time. But who?

5. He wore clothes that weren't his own.

David obviously noticed it. Barry Allen was a big softie. He absolutely refuses to ride the bikes to crime scenes, much less go near anything labelled as ‘edgy’. Yet there he was, walking into the precinct dressed in a leather jacket a size too big for him. Joe passed a casual remark that Barry once mentioned that he would never wear leather jackets.

And there was another time, when Barry wore a shirt that hung loosely on him. Iris had seen it when she came over to get lunch with Eddie and she laughed, saying Barry never liked oversized clothing. Which led David to wonder why would Barry wear clothes he hates? Obviously, they belong to someone he loves and he shares clothes with his partner. David understood that — he has worn some of Rob’s clothes to work before. Judging from the clothes, Barry was dating a man. But who?

6. He had made frequent trips to Starling City.

David had walked into an empty lab — Barry was late again. He sighed and walked over to the CSI’s desk to leave his work for the day, his attention being caught by train tickets. Glancing around, he reaffirmed that Barry wasn’t present before he picked up the train tickets to check. They were two-way trips between Central and Starling. A drawer was open and David realized there were even more Central to Starling tickets in it. So he was making frequent visits to Starling. His boyfriend definitely lives there, then. Who?

7. He was suddenly interested in politics.

Barry Allen, pacifist, never interested in politics in the slightest. It was until Mayor Queen’s political rival, Sebastian Blood, had been making a speech and someone praised the man that David found Barry’s sudden interest in politics strange.

“I think he would make a better mayor than Queen, in my opinion,” Eddie had said as he, Barry, Joe and David watched the politician make a rousing speech on the small television. Barry’s eyebrow twitched in annoyance and he said, “Blood doesn’t strike me as a sincere leader. Queen genuinely cares for the citizens of Starling.” Joe raised an eyebrow, as if to ask how he would know. Barry quickly added on, “I mean, you can see it in the way he does things. Every decision he makes is for the good of his city. I can see it. Can’t you?”

“I guess,” Eddie shrugged, not up for getting into an argument with his friend about Starling’s politicians. David found it suspicious how he cared so much about something he often told his friends to never talk to him about.

8. Oliver Queen showing up at the CCPD.

David had gone up to Barry’s lab again, surprise coloring his face at the sight of Starling City’s mayor already there.

“Mayor Queen. What brings you to CCPD?” he asked. Oliver turned around and asked, “Hello, are you the captain?” David nodded and Oliver answered, “I’m here to ask your CSI for help on this sample. I need an analysis done on it.” He indicated the ziplock bag in his hands. David questioned, “Not to be rude, but why can’t you ask SCPD’s CSI?” Oliver gave him a wry smile, “Your CSI is much more capable, Captain.”

It was more than suspicious to David, but he kept his mouth shut.

9. The time he caught Barry on Oliver Queen’s Wikipedia page.

It was strange, least to say, when David walked in on Barry scrolling through Oliver Queen’s Wikipedia page, snickering to himself as he made minor modifications to the information.

“Allen, what are you doing?” David asked. Barry sat up straight in surprise and slammed his laptop shut, answering, “Um… nothing?” David narrowed his eyes, “You were editing Mayor Queen’s Wikipedia page.” Barry shrugged, caught, “I’m just playing a prank on him. I’ll change it all back after he’s seen it, don't worry.”

“You better. I don’t think he would appreciate someone making a joke out of him,” David advised. He heard Barry mutter something under his breath, but he didn’t pursue the matter any further.

10. And of course, the time he found Oliver Queen kissing Barry in the lab.

David couldn’t say he wasn’t expecting it, but it still caught him by surprise when he went up to Barry’s lab to the sight of Barry leaning down on his desk slightly, his hands pressed up to Oliver’s chest as the mayor kissed him. Their lips moved together in perfect synchronicity and Barry let out quiet breaths of contentedness against Oliver’s mouth. Oliver had one hand supporting Barry’s back, the other pressed to the edge of the desk.

David cleared his throat and the two immediately pulled apart. Barry’s cheeks were colored red, embarrassed that he’d been caught. Oliver didn’t look very fazed, however.

“Captain Singh, I’m so sorry,” Barry started. David interrupted, smiling, “No, Allen. It’s fine. I’m glad you found someone who makes you happy.” He turned to Oliver, “Now, he’s a favorite around here, so if you hurt him, just remember we’re all cops with guns.” Oliver gave him a quirk of his lips as he nodded, “I won’t hurt him, Captain.”