#someone tuck him into bed with a glass of bourbon

[shotmrmiller]

ghost getting himself a cute, soft girl he doesn't talk about much but is clearly obsessed with and price just thinks it's nice he's finally settled down, approves of the home he's made for himself, definitely approves of the one he's taken for himself.

soap asks kyle if he's seen you and he says, "yep. lovely bird he's got tucked away in her little dollhouse. makes great food, too." soap swears there's a subtle shift in his tone when he says "lovely", a hint of something deeper that flickers in his eyes for just a moment. soap simply sucks on his teeth, letting it slide. (although he knows that kyle's always been one to appreciate the good things in life.)

interest gnaws at him, a persistent itch he can't scratch. price likes you just fine, as does kyle. well what about him? he decides to bite the bullet and goes to simon with a knot between his brows, the corners of his lips tugged downwards. they've shared clothes, bullets, beds. if the other two got to meet you, why can't he?

"ya can come over for dinner on tonight. she'd 'ave my neck if she didn't formally meet ya anyway."

soap then asks, out of genuine curiosity more than anything else, if simon would have kept you in the dark from him hadn't he brought you up himself.

"ya meet 'er when i want ya to, boy, and not a moment before." the tone he takes is unmistakeable. his words are a command, not a suggestion, and soap instantly knows to not push further.

soap nods. "ah'll be there."

"course ya will. she'd be terribly disappointed otherwise."

yeah, he'd hate to have that.

soap sits in the living room, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm light over the cozy place. with a full stomach and an unfastened belt, nursing a glass of kentucky. he can't remember the last time he ate that well or that much.

maybe it's the alcohol that loosens his tongue, or the fact that he wishes he also had a sweet little thing to keep at his side just like simon's doing with you now, but the thoughts he's been mulling over all evening since he first saw you tumble out of his mouth.

"while ah can attest to yer taste in sweethearts, can't say much about your alcohol. bourbon, LT?" he says, chest warm.

simon's arm tightens around your hips, fingers splayed possessively over your thigh. he shrugs, completely unbothered by the backhanded compliment. "can't be perfect in everythin', can we, sergeant?"

soap's cheeks burn furiously hot when you come to his defense with a smack of your palm onto simon's chest. "be nice to johnny. he's got a face that make up for some of his other flaws."

the teasing lilt in your voice unashamedly gets his southern blood pumping. he can't help it if certain things stir when someone as pretty as you look at him like that. soap swirls the amber liquid gently in the glass while keeping his limpid eyes on you, not even trying to hide the fact that his gaze hasn't wavered since your cheeky little comment.

you then whisper something in simon's ear, your cupped hand not even half the size of his head and soap has to rearrange himself from the outside when your teeth catch your bottom lip. simon looks up at you then, eyes heavy and half lidded, and a smirk plays at the corners of his mouth.

"'m not sure, love. you'll just 'ave to ask 'im yourself. go on."

you open that sweet mouth of yours, but simon cuts you off with a decisive wave of his hand. "no. you know how to ask for things."

your reaction to that is visceral, and you're on your knees faster than his alcohol-muddled brain can comprehend. don't look down 'er shirt, don't look down 'er shirt, don't-

"johnny, will you touch my pussy?"

he splutters at your question, completely taken aback, but it seems you're not done just yet.

"hands to yourself, sergeant. tha' not all."

you pout at simon, one that earns you a look that promises consequence, but do as he says.

"will you touch my pussy, johnny? pretty please?"

[youcancallmeelle]

She’s got a boyfriend anyway…

Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI)

Word count: 7K

Warnings: Semi public sex, Missionary, Cowgirl, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Teasing, Sneaking around, Secret relationship, Brief David mention, Ellie being a menance, Tommy trying to play matchmaker.

Summary: Tommy has been trying to set Joel up for AGES, he’s got other interests.

Or

You and Joel have secretly been seeing each other.

A03

Read below…

Life in Jackson is promising, nearly a year and half here and Joel feels comfortable, no longer itching for a way out of civilisation because he’s just not used to that no more. Ellie is settled too - finally. She’s attending school three days a week, enjoying the new responsibilities that come with being sixteen and the tad bit of freedom it brings. She helps out at the stables, in the kitchen too but she’s not a fan. She likes being in the library most, checking in and out books, tidying shelves, using her art to create eye catching displays aimed at the younger generation of Jackson.

Joel is proud, his heart feels like it could burst out of his chest all the time. Ellie is still full of wit and charisma that comes out in curses and daft puns that make Joel roll his eyes and get her in a headlock until she’s laughing so hard she’s pink in the face.

There’s times when she skips school completely if a male teacher has subbed in, she flinches away if someone comes too close and sometimes if it’s stew night at dinner, she’ll stare blankly into her bowl at the chunks of meat and see a severed ear, she’ll try to swallow but gag instead. These are nights Joel gives her his bread and Tommy will too, then he’ll make her a fruit salad when they get home with a little double cream poured over it.

The nightmares are persistent on these bad days where triggers occur, he finds Ellie in bed screaming and thrashing multiple times a week. She’ll sob and cry hoarsely as he holds her, hushing her gently and resting his cheek on her head. Most of the time she’ll fall back asleep with him beside her, curled into him like she did back at Silver Lake when death was close.

But mostly, everything’s okay.

Joel had been with Tommy every single day this week so far and it was Thursday evening, they’d been focusing on fixing up the bathroom in a house way further down from his, they were getting it ready for a family that had expanded to move in. The floor was rotten and the pipes wrecked, neither of them were particularly fond of plumbing but they sorted it between them. There was still the kitchen to do but that was a job for tomorrow and probably Saturday too but not Sunday, that was his day with Ellie.

Sunday’s were for late breakfasts of bacon and pancakes - before and after the world ended. The only thing that changed was the kid for Joel, he used to serve Sarah indulgent breakfasts on a Sunday and they’d do something together and the tradition was carried on with Ellie and Sarah remained tucked in his heart.

Tired and stiff from working hunched over all day, Joel was enjoying a quiet drink with Tommy. They were tucked away on a small table with two stools, Joel would have preferred something with a back but beggars can’t be choosers; he was grateful for the cold glass of bourbon nearly empty in front of him and the sound of Dire Straits playing over the old speakers.

As always, Tommy is picking and prying into his lack of a love life. Since he’s noticed his older brother being more settled within the community, he’d been trying his hardest to set him up with various women and Tommy Miller was nothing if not persistent.

At this point in the day, Tommy’s voice is almost just white noise.

“Cath is nice.” Tommy pointed out, Joel snorts.

“She’s also gay, Tommy.”

“Oh shit, really? I didn’t know.”

“Clearly. Can we please stop talking about this? It’s the same thing every fuckin’ time I come drinking with you.” Joel begs, Tommy sighs heavily but drops it for now.

Joel takes in the scenery as he sits there, grateful for the moments silence from Tommy. His eyes stray to the left of the table and he listens as you speak to Denton, an older gentleman in his late sixties with a love of horses. He’s quizzing you about the new mare in the stables, he hears you mention checking on her again after your shift because she’s been particularly temperamental since she was brought in from outside but you’ve developed a nice bond with her, she’s slowly becoming more trusting.

It occurs to Joel that everyone likes you - literally everyone, even Ellie and she was a tough nut to crack. You’re sweet, soft spoken yet confident. You’re always helping out where you can; on patrols, stable duty, in the communal garden, sometimes at the school and also here at the bar when Darius needs his shift covered.

You find good things on patrol and give them to Joel or Ellie before taking the rest for the community, so they get first pick of everything.

You’re just the sweetest thing.

Tommy sees you and beckons you with a friendly wave, you mutter a goodbye to Denton and pat his hand.

“Hey.” You hear your name called over the music and you turn as Tommy Miller grabs your attention as you scoop up two glasses and an empty bowl that once held nuts and dried berries from the table two away from his and Joel’s.

“Yes, Miller?” You patter over with your hands occupied, you sneak a look at his older sibling, sparing him a wink as a greeting, he smirks softly back.

“Has Darius got an other fuckin’ music or are we strictly limited to the sounds of 1985 tonight?” He questions and you laugh, shaking your head.

“You don’t like Dire Straits?”

“He doesn’t appreciate good music.” Joel interjects, shaking his head at Tommy.

“I do - but other music. Eminem or even fuckin’ Britney! Anything but this shit.” Tommy groans, tossing his head back.

“Keep talking smack about Dire Straits, Miller - and I’ll snitch to your wife about the fact you’ve switched patrols with Mark twice this week because you were too hungover to go.” You smile sweetly at Tommy, tilting your head.

“Snitches get stitches.” Tommy remarks playfully, not an ounce of malice in his dark brown eyes and your eyebrows rise, you beam back.

“That right? Well, troublesome men get barred for life.”

“Oooooh.” Joel chimes in, looking amusedly between you and his younger brother.

“Touché.” Tommy quips, folding his arms.

“Tell you what, next time I’m in, I’ll have a rummage out back and see if I can find you some Britney. Bless you.” You pinch his cheek as you walk past and he swats your hand, rubbing the spot while Joel laughs.

“You’re pushing your luck giving her lip, I’m not sure if you’re aware but this is the only operational bar in Wyoming.”

“Tell me about it.” He grumbles back, Joel shakes his head once more as the door behind Tommy on the back wall opens.

“Joeeeeeel?!” He hears yelled from close by, he looks up and sees Ellie dragging her sneakers across the floor, scouring the bar for him with her honey coloured eyes eagerly. She spots him within seconds, beaming and practically skipping over to him and Tommy in the corner. “There you are, I looked fucking everywhere for you.” She groans dramatically, throwing her head back. “I wanna go out, I’m bored shitless at home. There’s nothing for me to do and yes - I’ve done my school work.” She quickly adds.

“You done those quadratic equation questions we were going over last night?” He raises his eyebrow.

“Yep. Easy peasy lemon squeezy, though I did ask my teacher because I’m pretty sure you were figuring them out wrong. You were, by the way.” Joel puffs indignantly, rolling his eyes. Ellie spins to Tommy, the soles of her shoes squeaking. “Can I try that?” She’s laser focused on the bourbon swimming between globes of ice in Tommy’s glass.

“What have I said the last twenty times you’ve asked, El?” Tommy’s dark brows are high on his forehead, his mouth is twisted with hidden laughter. Ellie rolls her eyes with annoyance, sloping over to Joel now.

“No.” She huffs, swinging her lanky arms around Joel. She hums and rubs her face into his shoulder bone, resting there for a second before her attentions shifts comically fast. There’s a warmth that spreads through Joel every single time she does this, she’s so casual about it and he’s drawn the conclusion that it’s a teenage thing because Sarah was the same. There’s a sadness that blossoms too, a darkness that twists and anchors in his chest as he thinks of her and who she’d be now. He can’t dwell for too long, not now - he did that for too long.

At one dark point in time, human connection was not key to survival, hence why he always kept Tess at arms length and then referred to Ellie as cargo until one snowy day it became apparent she was no longer cargo when she was frenzied and panting in his arms, splattered with the blood of a predator and gasping like she was taking her last breath. The sound haunted him for a long time, all memories of Sarah hitting him like a freight train. He had to protect Ellie, the minute he drew her in - oh baby girl - and held her tightly, wrapped in his coat and clinging to him just as hard.

Ellie’s his kid now. She’s his. He’s hers. They’re a family. Ellie Williams Miller - that’s how she’s known now. It’s scrawled on her school books. The love he feels for this human tornado in sneakers is unmatched, the one thing he’s ever been truly good at has been restored and it’s a role he knows well; being a father.

Sure, this teenager that he’s raising is the furthest from bubblegum pink and Avril Lavigne she could be, she’s particularly jagged around the edges and does have the temperament of an unsocialised cat that will bite if you get too close.

He looks down at her, rubbing into him like she’s trying to get his smell on her because it’s comforting and she feels safe and feels his heart ready to burst.

Of course the sweet moment of affection is shattered when Ellie yawns directly into his fucking ear because why wouldn’t she?

He grunts when she bears most of her weight on his aching shoulders, leaning easily into him and twisting her small fingers into his flannel.

“So? Can I go or not?” She presses.

“Go where?” He prompts, raising his eyebrow.

“Toni’s from school. Her cat had kittens a few weeks ago and they’re starting to play. Five of them, Joel! That’s a lotta kittens!” Ellie enunciates, brown eyes wide and Joel can’t help the smile that graces his otherwise tired face.

“You mean a litter?” He corrects and Ellie pauses, frowning.

“Huh?”

“A bunch of kittens is a litter, Ellie.” He informs her and she somehow manages to frown even more, she makes a noise like she’s computing the new information.

“Yeah, whatever.” She mumbles, Tommy snorts in amusement. “So I can go see them?” She presses, shifting her weight again and Joel groans louder now, unhooking her arms from his shoulders with a quiet ‘don’t do that, baby’ that’s full of affection.

“Yes but you’re back at nine latest, okay? Nine. I’ll be waiting for you, the minute those street lamps turn on, you’re home.” Joel says, Ellie’s mouthing along to his instructions that he’s been laying out since Summer began and the evenings stretched longer. “Be good.” He speaks more softly now and she nods, he presses a kiss to the side of her head, her eyelashes flutter happily as the warmth blossoms in her too with the security that’s Joel Miller.

“Peesh. I’m always good. Bye Tommy!” She says excitedly, fist bumping him when it’s offered.

“See ya, squirt.” Tommy replies but before he’s even voiced his reply, Ellie’s hurrying away and knocking into a patron while waving to you on the way out of the door so hard it slams. Joel sighs, thinking she’s a literal hurricane.

The door hinge has barely stopped shaking before Tommy starts with the suggestions of suitors once more.

“What about Myleene?” Tommy proposes, Joel shakes his head quickly, downing the remainder of his drink.

“Too young.” He replies.

“She’s twenty five.”

“Too young.” He repeats firmer this time.

“Okay, fine. What about Michelle? She’s what forty? I was talking to her in the cobblers the other day, she’s definitely interested - mentioned something about making you a pie?”

“I’m good.” He grumbles looking down into his empty glass but quickly shifting his gaze to the bar, you’re leaning on your elbows, laughing heartily with a patron.

You look beautiful tonight - just like every other night. Your shoulders are sunkissed, your cheeks a little flushed and skin glowing from the summer humidity. He absorbs the way your hair tumbles down your shoulders and the way the thin straps of your tiered sundress slip down occasionally, only to be tugged back into place with dexterous fingers.

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.” Tommy jibes, Joel looks over with a firm scowl.

“What?” He asks, Tommy shakes his head.

“You can dream, brother.” Joel rolls his eyes, trying to act nonchalant. “She’s got a boyfriend anyway.” Tommy adds, Joel eyes him with full attention.

“A boyfriend?” He asks, trying to be sure he heard right.

“Yeah, overheard her talking to one of the girls in the garden a few days ago. Didn’t mention no names but she definitely said she was seein’ someone.” Tommy shrugged, Joel hummed with interest. “Anyway, it don’t matter because she’s way out of your league.”

“Thanks.” Joel retorts, sneaking one last look before focusing on the door behind Tommy, the one Ellie had not long barrelled in and out of just moments ago.

He wonders about the kittens she mentioned and gulps as he imagines her taking to one with its big eyes and soft paws, his mind is pulled back to a time in April when he’d come downstairs one morning to a sink full of tad poles she’d ‘rescued’ from birds out of the neighbours pond.

Basically, his girl can’t resist animals she deems too vulnerable to leave.

“Scared Ellie’s gonna come home with one of them kittens?” Tommy wonders, reading Joel’s mind.

“Terrified.”

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

The sun is setting in bursts of burnt orange and marigold by the time he leaves Tommy to his own devices at the bar, he hazards a look around as he makes his way in the complete opposite direction to his and Ellie’s house.

He slinks around the back of the school house, slithering through the gap and walking up the winding path that leads to the stables. He climbs the short fence and hops to the other side, his boots kick up the dust from the dirt path and the crickets chirp beneath the skyline.

With one more look around, he opens to rear door to the stables and slips inside, shutting it softly behind him.

Immediately he hears the horses further down huff and puff, he can make out the swish of their tails hitting the walls as they munch on hay, there’s a neigh that is absolutely Shimmer kicking up a fuss about something.

He slopes around the riding gear and sees you leaning against the wall, hands behing your back. You grin.

“Took your time, cowboy. Was beginning to think you couldn’t take the hint and stood me up.”

“Never, honey.” Joel prowls towards you, ready to grab you. “Missed you.”

“You just saw me.”

“Not the same.” He yanks you close like a man starved, you’d shared company less than 24 hours ago but you greet and leave each other like it’s the last time you’ll ever be together. It’s the apocalypse affect, you know that, he does too

This arrangement had been going on for almost two months now, all started by a late night patrol together where you’d shared more about yourselves in an eight hour shift than both of your time in Jackson combined. There was an instant attraction, it was so easy to talk to one another and that’s what you did every single time you were partnered together and it became the highlight of your day. It started innocently and friendship had bloomed, then before you knew it you were sharing a rum laced thermos of tea with him in the bed of a truck and kissing him with reddened cheeks shortly thereafter. You’d first slept together in the same truck, just as dawn began to break. It was clumsy and quick but you couldn’t get enough of one another. You hadn’t cum but Joel promised next time would be better which lead to the question of next time? You’d been seeing each other most nights since.

Any chance you got, you were together. Nobody knew about you both, hence why Tommy was incessantly trying to hook Joel up with other women around town and jealousy burned as you listened in on their one sided conversations in the bar whenever you were covering for Darius.

You’d left the bar shortly before Joel had, waving farewell to him and Tommy, coming straight up here to check on the mare just as you’d told Denton. This was a usual spot to meet Joel, it wasn’t your first rodeo in the stables with him. It was the one place you could be alone after a certain time.

“Were you hiding from me, honey? Hmm?” He growls playfully, pulling you to him even though you were barely a millimetre away in the first place. You hum in response, so utterly lost in him. You’re nuzzling his throat, fisting his shirt, desperate for his attention. “God, you look so good today.” He murmurs, mouth finding yours. You moan softly, standing on your tip toes and kissing him in a way that makes his lungs and loins burn alike. His grey tinged moustache prickles your upper lip beautifully, his beard feels familiar beneath your soft hands.

He’s crowding you and guiding you backwards, kissing you hotly in a sense that makes your cunt throb eagerly. You moan into his mouth when he nips your bottom lip, squeezing the left cheek of your ass.

You love when he’s like this - playful and easy. He feels lightyears younger around you, it’s like the heaviness dissipates the moment he’s in your company. He loses himself in the way you smell, the way your hair feels when his fingers are entwined between the sun kissed strands, the way in which your eyes sparkle with mischief.

It’s easy to pull him towards the back of the stable, where the bales of hay were stacked created a nice wall of privacy. You’d been in here a couple of times with him, having gone as far to stash a flannel blanket in one of the cupboards to lay down as to protect you both from the cold floor and the prickle of loose hay.

Once behind the hay and seated on a bale with you in his lap, strong hands are moving the thin straps of your sundress down your shoulders, you momentarily break away from his mouth to aid the removal of your dress to your waist where Joel roughly bunches it up so that your underwear is now on show and so are your tits.

His eyes light up at your bare chest, like he hasn’t seen your breasts countless times before. One thing among many that you first noticed was that Joel Miller is a tit man through and through. His rough and work toughened hands cup them both gently before his tongue swirls around your left nipple.

“Joel.” You murmur, arching into him, rolling your hips into his. He’s hard already, age not affecting him like that in the slightest. He’s a hot blooded male, every single inch a man and that warms you to your core. You grab his hand, bringing it to the top of your panties and he slides it in without hesitation.

“Christ.” He curses, exploring your lips with his fingertips, gliding through the dewy wetness gathered there and coming back up for a split second to drag it over your clit roughly. You whimper, bucking into his hand. “Mmm, babydoll.” Joel huffs against your cheek in a hot pant, repeating the action.

“Need you so badly, Joel. Almost got started without you.” You confess.

“Fuck. You can’t- don’t say shit like that, honey.” He growls lowly, unbelievably hard beneath you. His fingers explore again, you aid his explorations by canting your hips just so.

Joel is eager to get things moving, he’s hard and frustrated, he has a beautiful woman in his lap and the perfect setting. He pulls his hand from your underwear, looking down to see the shine of you on him. He loses his mind when you take his hand and lead it to your mouth, sucking the tips of his index and middle finger as he watches with eyes blown wide; they look black instead of the earthy brown that sometimes melts into caramel or runny honey.

The minute you hum like a content cat, he has you lifted off his lap and braced against him. You squeal at the sudden shift, the ceiling looking closer than the floor but then he gently lays you back on the blanket and settles between your legs.

“Hey, who was Tommy trying to set you up with?” You blurt, Joel pauses.

“Cath.”

“She’s gay.” You frown.

“Michelle too.” He adds before diving down into your chest, pressing your breasts together, mouthing at the swell.

“I’m not sure you’re Michelle’s type, she’s a cougar apparently.” You remark, Joel ignores you in favour of sucking your nipples until they feel raw. “Why Michelle? I don’t understand why Tommy thinks she’s a good match for you.” You don’t know why this is coming up now, your mouth seems to have a mind of its own, the jealousy settling like lead in your stomach.

“He said she wants to make me a pie.” Joel pipes up, the confession half muffled.

“What kind of pie?” You ask, pulling his face from your tits. Joel groans frustratedly, looking up at you with eyes dark and deadly.

“I don’t know. Why does that even matter?”

“A cream pie probably.” You snarl under your breath, the jealousy swirling in the pit of your stomach like a rattled viper.

Joel laughs, shaking his head and coaxing your mouth back to his. “Gross.” He murmurs, kissing you softly and squeezing your hips as if to guide you back. “You know I only like your cream pies.” He jokes, this time you break into a smile.

“Now whose gross?” You snort, tugging his plain grey undershirt over his head and to the side. You run your palms over his chest and down to his softer stomach, digging your nails in as they drag a long his skin. Goosebumps erupt all over him.

Joel is softer in his older age but strong too, years of walking different terrain, heavy lifting and fighting have made him lean also.

You hum contentedly, tracing over those familiar scars that have been made in the 20 years since the world imploded.

“He said you were out of my league.” Joel suddenly admits, resting his hands on your spread knees. You frown up at him. “Tommy said you were out of my league.”

“Tell Tommy he doesn’t know shit.” You retort with an eye roll, grabbing Joel by his belt and yanking him forward. “I like you, Joel. Fuck what anyone else thinks, it’s not anyone’s business who we choose to be with.” You say softly now, kissing your way up his chin to his lips. “I like you.” You affirm again, Joel kisses you tenderly, weaving his hand into your hair as you moan quietly.

“Well, I like you too.” He says, kissing you with so much passion yet so much tenderness all at the same time as you fumble to unbuckle his belt. You yank it apart, tugging open the button and prying the worn denim apart with the hiss of his zipper.

He barely lets you wrap a hand around him over his boxers before he has both your wrists pinned above your head, you make a sad whine but all disappointment quickly dissipates when he shuffles down the length of your torso and yanks your underwear down so fast you feel the material leave a friction burn. He grabs your thighs and then manoeuvres your legs by the backs of your knees, you like where this seems to be going.

Your spine curves against the hard floor when his mouth makes that first contact, he starts slow with a lick up the length of you, then he lightly suckles your lips and gently licks over the hood of your clitoris.

“Joel.” You murmur, twisting the blanket beneath your fingertips, scrunching it and bitting down on your lower lip as he continues his gentle assault on your clit, the rubber toes of your hi tops dig into his ribs almost painfully.

His thumb comes up to gently push the hood of your clit back, the sensation of his tongue directly stimulating the nerve causes you to gasp and wind one hand down into his hair, you tug and he groans against you.

You’re transported back to one of the first times you’d been intimate together after sleeping together in the truck.

For some reason, it had shocked you that Joel Miller ate pussy like a champ. The first time he’d gone down on you - behind the bar just after you’d blown him - you’d prepared yourself for dissatisfaction and disappointment, only it never came. Joel had licked into you with such ferocity and precision that you’d almost keened over.

He’d made you cum so quickly that you’d barely had time to process the first swipe of his tongue on your clitoris and the climax that followed minutes later.

He’d looked up at you, moustache and beard slick with his eyes wide; ‘I forgot how much I enjoyed doing that’ he’d panted while you squeaked back in shock.

Now, as you live in the moment, you feel that tingle of pleasure building but you don’t want to cum without him inside of you. As much as it pains you, you tug on his hair, urging him back up.

“Wanna cum with you.” You pant when he looks up with dazed brown eyes, frowning a little. He seems to accept that and sits up, shucking his jeans and boxers down over his ass with the help of your clumsy hands. “Lay back.” You demand, he does so and you move to take his place.

You throw your legs over his and settle above his lap, he’s got one arm behind his head and watches as you take him in your first and tease yourself with the flushed tip of him. He breathes in sharply through his nose as you do it again before notching him at the site of your heat, you steady yourself and begin to sink down.

“Fuck me.” Joel sighs, closing his eyes briefly because he’s so sure he’s in heaven. The sensation of your wet heat surrounding him never gets old, he’d forgotten how much he loved sex before meeting you.

“You’re so big, Joel.” You whimper, stroking his ego deliciously and he hates to be such a guy but the compliment goes straight to his dick.

“Fuck, honey. Take what you want, I’m yours - just fuck me.” He begs as you slowly begin to move, your nails scrape across his torso as you fall into an easy rhythm of rolling your hips into his. “You’re so fucking perfect, baby.” He babbles, looking up and admiring the curve of your back and the way your tits bounce as you ride him.

“Mmm.” You whine, picking up the pace and throwing your head back which exposes your jugular and Joel just wants to sink his teeth into you because you truly look good enough to eat.

“Come here, babydoll.” He urges, pulling you down so you’re chest to chest. Your peer at him with pretty doe eyes, your lashes flutter as they shut to kiss him deeply, your tongue swipes his and you taste the tang of yourself on him. You moan louder when he manages to plant his boots on the floor and thrust up into you roughly, tangling his hand in your hair to keep you pressed against him.

It’s so hot in the stables, you’re both sticky and warm. But with your pretty moans and keens filling the air, Joel manages to easily forget the irritation from the heat.

You push against his chest to sit up and Joel grabs your hips, guiding you easily and you feel yourself getting close but you can’t achieve orgasm through penetration alone.

You brace one hand on his thigh behind you, tipping your head back as the pleasure becomes almost too much to handle. Your hips roll in an easy rhythm, his cock head hitting your G spot perfectly and you whine when the hand on your left hip moves ever so slightly until Joel was able to thumb your clit. He knows you so well.

“Oh f - fuck. You feel so good, you’re so good - fuck.” You babble, your hips moving faster.

“Jesus christ.” Joel huffs, throwing his head back against the hard floor, biting his bottom lip hard to stave off his orgasm. You feel so good wrapped around him; wet and snug, like crushed velvet.

He knows he can’t stay like this, he’s too close to finishing and he can sense you’re not quite there yet despite being edged so he makes the conscious decision to hold you and flip you both over with a nimbleness he didn’t know he possessed in his older age.

You stutter out a choked moan, arching into his strong hands. You drag your nails down his toned back, leaving a little spatter of blood in the red tracks.

Joel hisses when your nails puncture the skin on the globes of his ass, somehow trying to pull him closer and push him away at the same time.

“Where?” He asks, nodding downwards as he fights off his climax.

“Inside.” You reply without hesitation. You’d counted your cycle days, marking in a blank notebook the day number and your symptoms, pretty accurately guessing your fertile window and probable ovulation day by cervical mucus alone. You were four days from your period being due, it was safe.

“You sure?” He hesitates, brow furrowed hard with concentration, he’s a stroke away from finishing. He knows better than most people to not trust the pull out method and he knows the importance of contraception but he still ended up a Dad before he hit his mid twenties. Pushing sixty he’s still playing a dangerous game but so far, neither of you had gotten burnt.

“Yeah.” You gasp, fingers on your clit rubbing faster. You groan suddenly and twist into him, making pretty little whimpers and purring. He groans too, thrusting in hard once, twice and then three times. You feel his cock stiffen and twitch, then the pulse of subtle warmth of his cum spreading inside and aiming for your cervix. He works himself through it, you push in return as the aftershocks slow to a flat line.

Joel heaves a breath, resting on his forearms as you lazily kiss his neck in satisfaction and rapture. You sit there for a minute, basking in the afterglow until Joel grows too stiff and has to withdraw from you slowly, kneeling up between your legs to pull his boxers and jeans back up but he leaves them unbuttoned and his belt loose.

You don’t miss the primal look in his eyes when they drift to between your legs, he can see his cum leaking and the pearlescent finish it leaves on your lips. His cock twitches, perhaps if he was younger he could go for another round but alas, he settles next to you on the blanket, pulling you to his chest and cushioning your head with a strong bicep.

“I think that might have been the best time yet.” You pant breathlessly, looking up at the ceiling and seeing the evening sky through the cracks of wood.

“Maybe one day we can do it in an actual bed, I’m not sure how much more of these places my back can take.” Joel jokes, you giggle and turn into him, listening to the rapid pace of his heartbeat as it settles, a perfect mirror of your own.

“Not bad for an old timer.” You tease, giggling when he growls and squeezes your hip.

“Was patrol okay today?” Joel questions you, you nod lazily against him. “You come across anything?” Now you speak, leaning up to peer down at him.

“A couple of runners. We shot them in that abandoned gas station near the entrance to the offices off the trail. I think they were probably people passing through, one was infected on the journey and turned, then bit the other.” Joel hums, rubbing your lower back and hip. “I have some things for Ellie I found, by the way. I’ll drop them over tomorrow. Nothing crazy, just some things I thought she needed.” You say between kisses down Joel’s chest and sternum, your delicate fingers tracing out old battle scars.

“What like?” He asks, catching your hand as it reaches his happy trail, bringing it to his lips instead where he presses tender kisses to your fingertips.

“Pyjamas, underwear and some toiletries. Oh! And get this, a new casette tape for her walkman.”

“What tape?”

“Teardrops.” You grin.

“Womack and Womack? She’s gonna love that.” Joel says, laying back and smiling at the ceiling of the stables, humming the song in his head. “Fuck, I haven’t heard that song in - jesus - years.” He’s frowning, contemplating lost time, the whole concept of time evades him, it never used to at the start but now? It’s one big jumble, his time is defined by events and not a calendar.

“She still playing that one you got her on repeat?” You wonder.

“Yeah.”

“What was it again?”

“Bowie. Heroes.” Joel replies.

“Nice.” You nod.

As you lie there together in an easy silence, content to be together in the quiet solace of the stables, Joel’s mind wanders back to his earlier conversation with his younger brother:

“Hey, er - Tommy actually said something else earlier.” Joel winces at how awkward he sounds and you huff loudly, ready to hear what other dumbass thing he’s said. “He said he heard you say you have a boyfriend or that you were seein’ someone.”

You sit up, frowning down at Joel.

“Okay…” You reply hesitantly, uneasy now. “Am I not seeing you?” You frown.

“No - no! It’s… that came out wrong. I just meant - “ Joel grumbles, covering his face momentarily while you try to will your stomach from not sinking. “I don’t know, I just wanted to know if you meant me.”

“Seriously, Joel? This conversation is going so well.” You say dryly, utterly unimpressed.

“No! Oh my god! I can’t do this.” He groans, realising his mistake. “I’m sorry, that came out so wrong.” Joel apologises, you snort.

“Look Joel, I was talking to Mrs Patterson in the garden and she was telling me about her late husband, saying how lovely he was and how men just aren’t like that anymore. She asked if I’d found anyone and I let it slip that I was seeing someone, I didn’t mention any names and I can totally understand why you’re freaked when we haven’t even had that conversation ourselves. I shouldn’t have assumed this was anything more than sex, I’m sorry.” You annunciate, warm in the cheeks.

“You want to just have sex?” Joel is sat up now, matching your frazzled expression.

“If that’s what you want.” You shrug, taking an interest in your cuticles. A large hand lays over yours, squeezing. You shift your focus to his knuckles instead, tracing out the scars.

“Honey, look at me.” He urges softly, you hesitantly meet his eyes. “I think somewhere we’ve miscommunicated.”

“How so?” You press.

“Look… it’s been a long time since I’ve done this, I’m a little rusty. I’m sorry if I haven’t been clear about what we are or what I want us to be, I kinda just assumed you knew and yeah, that’s real shitty of me.” He says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I wanna be exclusive with you, honey. I mean, I have Ellie to think about so we’ll need to go slow just so I can ease her into the change. Is that okay?” He whispers, pressing his forehead to yours.

“That’s more than okay, Joel. I completely understand, I don’t want to spook Ellie either.” You confirm, Joel let’s out a relieved sigh.

“Good - good, okay. We’ll figure it out, baby.” He assures you, nuzzling his nose against yours and kissing you softly.

It’s easy to lose yourself in Joel Miller, you’re swept up in the gruff voice and strong arms, the softness beneath his outer shell reserved for those closest to him.

You’re kissing him back in earnest, he’s reclining to lay back down with you on top of him and you’re sure this could lead to round two or at least head from either one of you, maybe even both.

However, the moment is spoiled when you hear voices creeping closer to the stables. You both stiffen and wait, looking at each other with eyes opened wide.

The voices are getting closer and you decipher it’s two sets, it’s not made clear who it is until they’re walking behind the stables and you can see their shadows slink between the thin gaps in the planks.

It’s Ellie and Tommy.

You and Joel scramble, you yank your dress back over your breasts and pull the hem of it over your ass. Your panties are on the floor and you narrowly dodge Joel’s elbow as he hastily buckles his jeans back up just in time for the door around the corner to open with a shriek of the hinges.

“What if he’s gone out on patrol without telling me? Or maybe he’s swapped with someone and gone hunting? I know I’m back way earlier than he said but he said he’d be home! Do you think he’s left the gate? What if he’s hurt? What if - “ Ellie begins to ramble and Tommy sighs.

“Kiddo, stop worrying. I’m sure he’s around here somewhere, let’s look at the whiteboard and see if his name’s on there. I highly doubt he’s swapped shifts and he wouldn’t leave without telling you, he’s gotta be around here some…” Tommy’s reassurance comes to a stop when he round the corner of the hay bale wall and abruptly stops, staring at you and Joel with as much shock as you return.

Ellie slams into his back and he wobbles but his gaze never falters.

“What the fuck, man!” Ellie exclaims, shoving Tommy and stepping around his statue like form but also freezing too.

You look between them both, trying to formulate an excuse but Joel shoving his t-shirt on, the fact your clothes are crumpled and there’s absolutely hay in your tousled hair says it all.

Your panties are shoved behind your back out of view.

“Well I’ll be damned, you’re the guy she’s seein’!.” Tommy snorts, looking between you both. Joel growls, yanking on his flannel while Ellie manually retrieves her jaw from the floor.

“What the fuck is this?” She asks, looking between you and Joel. “You have a girlfriend? What the fuck, dude? You didn’t say anything!” She fumes, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Look, it’s complicated and new.” He says, which placates her slightly. She stares at you again and you see the betrayal hidden behind a scowl, she looks at Joel again.

“Fine. I guess this isn’t that bad, it could be worse - we could of caught you with Esther.”

“That’s true.” Tommy nods, pointing at Ellie, she nods back.

“Esther?” You question, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, Tommy’s neighbour, she totally fancies Joel.” Ellie tells you. “You should fight her.”

“No, she doesn’t and stop shit stirring.” Joel warns Ellie, she hides a smirk which tells you she’s winding Joel up.

“I could take Esther.” You say, playing along, Ellie’s eyes brighten with mischief.

“Nobody’s fighting no one.” Joel settles, you’re all silent for a millisecond and then Tommy throws in his two cence.

“You could take Esther.” He agrees.

“Enough about Esther, please!” Joel begs, beside himself.

“This is fucking embarrassing, Joel. What the fuck do you expect us to do? It’s awkward!” Ellie complains, Tommy nods in agreement, you do too.

“Yeah? Try being where we’re stood, kid.” He retorts.

Ellie kinda has to resist the urge to throw up in her mouth because Joel has sex which is so horrifying that she almost can’t bare to look at him but she’s equally happy for him and utterly disgusted, she swallows back a retch.

“Fine, whatever. I’m very happy for you and my da - Joel.” Ellie bursts and corrects herself at the last minute, you don’t miss the hitch in Joel’s breathing but this is not the time for that discussion. “I’m willing to negotiate a price for the emotional damage you’ve both caused me by lying to me, sneaking around and also having sex in front of my horse.” She lists.

“My horse too!” Tommy adds.

“And Tommy’s horse too, Crash and Shimmer didn’t want to see your bare ass.” Ellie continues and for some reason Joel knows exactly where this is going, so he braces himself.

“Name your price.” He bites, Ellie looks at him with a levelling glare, it’s getting hard not to laugh when you see Tommy observing like he’s watching a mafia deal go down.

“A kitten.” Ellie reveals.

He fucking knew it.

[seiwas]

₊˚⊹｡ i'll be good to you | nanami kento

wc: 1.5k

summary: nanami’s half-hoping you call a fourth time.

contains: implied f!reader but no mention of pronouns, exes, mentions of alcohol, swears, reader wears makeup and heels, drunk calls, a bit angsty and a bit hurt/no comfort but it isn��t all that sad i think

a/n: this ran away from me again! but this is a brainchild from me and @augustinewrites, with song inspos: you were good to me, tequila, bourbon, and already gone

part of the in's and out's new year/birthday event | request prompt: calling your ex drunk at two a.m. with feelings still stuck in your throat

you are here -> part 2

Nanami moves in numbers. 

It comes with his personality—practical and efficient, forward thinking. 

Predicting deals from 9-to-5 looks a lot different from dealing deaths by a ratio of 7:3, but the tactics remain the same, the stakes still high; every move is precise and calculated, analyzed to be accurate. 

So he’d known—the day he decided to pick up his blade again was the day he’d deal his final blow—at you, and the relationship you built together. 

A strategic takedown of something he deemed doomed from the start. 

That’s what he wants you to think, at least. 

When his phone rings three times—the first in the middle of lecturing Yuuji, the second while going overtime underground, and the third just moments ago, bleeding out on a bathroom counter, Nanami realizes that the probability of him ever speaking to you again, alive and breathing, is a number he can’t predict. 

So he waits, linen pants and a cotton shirt while sporting a drink by his kitchen counter. 

Strangely, he’s full of hope, half-good and half-bad—that you’ll call back; that you won’t. The line between the two blurs. 

It always has with you. 

A friendly face—that’s all you were supposed to be; his work neighbor a few cubicles down his. It started with polite nods, a few casual waves, maybe even small smiles on a good day. Your schedule was terrible, much like his—one of the first ones to arrive and the last ones to leave. 

Then, you finally moved past just a friendly hello; something about bread, he recalls, an attempt to exchange recipes on sourdough. It started then, with you leaving a cup of coffee on his desk and he saving an ‘extra’ sub for you. 

(Except, it’s never an ‘extra’ with Nanami; he’d never do anything miscalculated.) 

Suddenly, you’re the first face he looks for in the morning, and he’s the last person you check on before clocking out at night. 

For a while, he didn’t know what to call you—a coworker? Friend? Someone he has dinner with at 12 midnight? 

You set it straight after the seventh ‘date’. 

Now, when his phone rings the fourth time, he picks up.

You’re cursing on the line, the sound of metal clinking on tile muffled in the background. 

He waits for you to talk, half-hopeful and half-nervous at hearing you speak. 

You always used to drop your keys by his door—your haphazard way of looking for his amongst five of yours. 

“Shit,” you grumble, the lock finally clicking open. 

He hears your footsteps, the sound of your heels landing as if they’ve been hastily kicked off. 

A party, perhaps? Or a night out? 

There’s a funny feeling that sits in his stomach when he thinks about you coming home from a date, one he knows he no longer has a right to. 

It should be good, he thinks, you’re moving on.  

He stares at his glass, liquor blurring into ice—brown edges fading into something lighter, near transparent. For a moment, he wonders if this was a mistake, if you hadn’t meant to call him at all. He’s considering putting the phone down to save you the embarrassment. 

But—

“Finally,” you spit out, clumsy and a little too honest. 

To anyone else, you’d sound normal, but Nanami’s known you for years, has loved you for just as much, and this sounds a lot like the version of you that’s lost track of how many you’ve had to drink—the same one he’s had to tuck in bed, with your arms clinging onto his neck while dragging him under the covers with you. 

He takes a sip. 

“Was starting t’think you died or sum’in.” 

It’s impossible for you to know the truth, he’s made sure of that—it’s why he let you go in the first place. 

“Someone offered to buy me a drink t’night,” you mumble, wood scraping against your floorboards. The exhaustion in your voice is palpable. 

He has no idea why you’re telling him this. 

“I asked f’r bourbon,” you breathe, shaky, “on the rocks, because—” 

That’s what he always got, what he introduced to you when you asked him why he likes it so much. 2 ounces of bourbon for a ball of ice, with time as an aid, mellowing its intensity to flavors of smoky caramel, vanilla, and a touch of spice. 

He gives a lowly hum, swirling the drink in front of him. 

“Was it good?” 

(The drink, the date. The potential new guy.) 

There’s silence on the other end of the line, too long to be considered thoughtless. His watch counts the seconds. 

“Not as,” you finally answer. 

Another bout of silence. 

He wonders what you look like, if you’re wearing that lipstick you know is his favorite; if you still smell like the closest thing he’s ever had to a home. Do you still keep an extra handkerchief in your purse? That obnoxious cow print he now uses to remind him of the life he used to know? 

You sniffle. 

“You fucked me up, Kento.” 

He knows. 

“How c’n you say this… is what’s best f’me when it hurts this much?” you hiccup, a sob caught in your throat. 

When Nanami ended things with you, he gave himself 30 minutes. Any less, he would have regretted it, and any more, he would have taken it all back. 

“Y’re so unfair,” you breathe out shakier than the last, broken more than anything, “din’t ev’n ask me what I wanted.”

He knows.

And he supposes he deserves this, aching at the way you fall apart on the line.

He takes another sip, longer and fuller, dragging out his gulp. 

“I still love you,” you weep, voice unsteady, “and I f’cking hate you for that, y’know?” 

Your words burn more than the alcohol down his throat. 

His eyes start to sting, brown glossing over. There was a time when your ‘I love you’s’ gave him reason to wake up in the morning; when they got him through the day and lulled him to sleep at night. 

But this one, this time, he knows, will haunt him for the rest of his life. 

(He’s never wanted anything more than to say it back to you, right now.)  

“I apologize.” the words come out stiff, squeezed out as he puts down his glass. 

“I know,” you scoff, managing a chuckle while sniffling, “like that’ll do ‘nythin though.” 

Nanami clenches his jaw, fingers tightening around his drink. You always were the perfect bite to his snark, acknowledging things straight up, as is. 

And you always had a hunch of how things would end up. 

You know that this call is pointless, that he won’t take you back by the end of it. You also know that each and every one of his decisions comes from a series of calculated predictions, that once he makes up his mind, there’s no changing it. You know how Nanami works, that he moves in numbers. 

Except, you never know his reasons—that the truth of all this is that he’s sworn to himself that he’ll be good to you. There’s no point being with an empty man, and dragging you into the dangers of sorcery would be cruel, even more unfair to you. 

The line is quiet for a while, filled only with your attempts at steadying your breathing. 

“Did you drink enough water?” he asks, a little out of nowhere but completely in place. 

You snort, pushing back your chair, “Shouldn’t say things like that,” your footsteps are picked up by the mic, “makes it sound like y’care.” 

He hears you gulp a glass down on the line, lips curling into a sad smile. 

“D’me a favor?” you slur, followed by a yawn. 

He hums. 

“Stay on ‘til I fall’sleep?” 

And for once, he doesn’t think so hard about it. This small thing can’t possibly skew the damage he’s already caused you. 

“Okay.” 

A creak sounds from your end, the sofa you both used to spend your weekends on; it’s been thoroughly broken in, love seeping through each crevice and dip. It’s selfish, but he hopes you still feel him through it—giving you a safe place to rest, soft and tender in keeping you close when he can’t. 

You shuffle, pillows muffling the microphone as you move around; then you mumble, sleep-laden, “Don’t forget to turn the lights off.” 

It shouldn’t affect him this much, but the reminder calls back every instance you’ve ever said it to him: whispers over his shoulder, while dragging your feet away from his home office; a peck to the tip of his ear before nuzzling his neck while he reads; a shout from your bed, for him to hear within the echoes of the bathroom walls. 

You both have terrible sleep from odd hours at the office, but nightmares have always persisted with him more. Turning off the lights was a reassurance, a quiet ‘I love you’—a reminder that it was okay to fall asleep, you’d be there when he wakes. 

His eyes zero in on the light switch to his right, humming his response. 

.

The call runs for 31 minutes.

a/n: other tidbits i wasn't able to include—reader is able to hold liquor well, and used to drink with nanami often but doesn't understand the appeal of his preferred drinks; reader is able to go head-to-head with nanami's personality but is also a lot more vibrant and loud; reader also doesn't know about the jujutsu world (in case it wasn't obvious). i also envision nanami becoming less himself towards the end of their relationship, which is also when he starts considering going back to sorcery.

thank you notes: big thank you to @augustinewrites for half-mothering this fic 🥺 what would i do without your sad ideas and songs to match!! and to @mysugu and @soumies for ofc!! listening to me talk abt this all the time lol

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[heaven4lostgirls]

hope (S.R)

pairing: steve rogers x reader

warning: angst, a little bit of comfort.

summary: the aftermath of reader leaving steve gives him clarity and has them both realizing that he needs to work harder to gain his girl back.

word count: 1.6k

a/n: I am so sorry this took so long to come out, I’ve been swamped with uni work but I’m so happy you guys liked part 1, I will probably post a part 3 to this, which other characters do you ship reader with??? Steve is looking at some competition soon!

part 1 , part 2, part 3

tags: @nouk1998, @spngingerbread21, @blackhawkfanatic, @immyowndefender (if I wasn't able to tag you that means your tags don't work!)

Steve,

If you’re reading this, then you have realised I’m not staying in the tower anymore. Tony helped set me up in safe house for the next few weeks, I can’t stay here. You chose Sharon over me Steve and you must know that I can’t stay with someone who would choose another woman over me.

I need you to know that although it’s been hard for me to accept it, I understand. It’s not okay that you chose to leave without talking to me, but I understand if she is who you want okay? I am so grateful to have spent the last 3 years by your side, but I can no longer watch on from the sidelines as you look at her like how you used to look at me.

When I come back, hopefully I’ll be ready to talk, but I am asking you that if you ever held any form of love and respect for me, to give me this time to heal.

Thank you, Steve, for everything,

y/n.

Steve crumples your handwritten letter in his hand, the paper squashed in the palm of his hands as he throws back the bourbon in his glass. His eyes are red rimmed and his face unshaven. He has been a mess since you left a week ago, unable to move from his room, and spending his time rereading your letter hoping that he could find some small sign that you still loved him, still wanted him.

He was unaccustomed to this feeling of pain, when he got out of the ice, he assumed the pain of knowing that he had missed his time with Peggy was truly the worst form of torture but the agony of once having your love and affection and having it so brutally stripped from him, may just be at the top of his list.

He sighs as he uncrumples the paper to place it on his desk as he moves to lay back in his bed, he had been part of a repetitive cycle for the last week, working purely on survival mode before he’s interrupted by a soft knock on his door.

He knows better than to feel excited at the small hope of it being you however he knows that it’s Bucky and Sam checking up on him and bringing him food before they annoy him into getting into the shower. He can’t stand the look of pity in their eyes as they hand him his food, so he slams the door shut as soon as he gets it, placing it on his desk, he moves to the bathroom.

He turns the shower head all the way to cold, hoping it will bring some shock into his system, however because of his super soldier abilities, his immune system is fried and numb to the coldness of the water.

His eyes burn as tears roll down his face, sobs wrack his body as he pounds his fist into the wall in front of me which breaks at the force of his strength. He hears the door quietly open before he feels Bucky’s metal arm tugging him from under the water into a towel.

This has happened nearly everyday for the last 3 days, sometime on the first day, Steve had stopped acting like you abrupt leaving hadn’t affected him and broke down during his training session, to which Bucky had been helping him through his depressed state however all he ever really wanted was you.

“I want her back” Steve sobs into Bucky’s clothed shoulder as he feels his friend cooing and soothing him like a baby before he is gently placed on his bed. His body shakes with his painful sobbing as he feels Bucky rubbing his back. “I know Stevie, I know” Bucky sighs as he tucks Steve in after he exhausts himself from crying.

Meanwhile you haven’t been doing any better, your mental health slowly deteriorating at the acceptance of the end of your relationship with Steve. You had known somewhere deep down that throughout the past month whenever you had caught Steve looking at Sharon that this was the beginning of the end.

However now it was time for you to face the reality of the situation, you may have spent the last week crying your eyes out at sad romance films with ice-cream and chocolate  but you knew that enough was enough, you needed to talk with Steve and hear what he had wanted to say the day you left.

Running from your problems was not the best solution however you knew realistically you did not have the mental capacity to hear whatever Steve had to say and that it would only end up doing more harm than good considering how high strung you both were about the whole situation.

Now, as you step off the quinjet, you are greeted with Bucky’s genuine yet sorrowful smile. “Hi Buck” you greeted softly as you stood awkwardly, worrying if you could still hug him even though you knew he probably spent the last week comforting your ex-boyfriend. Not than you could blame him, they had been friends for far longer than the both of you.

Bucky just rolled his eyes before his smile widened as he pulled you into a tight hug, you breathed a sigh of relief and slumped into your friend. Your moment was interrupted by a loud voice chiming in from behind the both of you.

“Y/N!!!!” you and Bucky both separate, you with a look of amusement and Bucky with a look of annoyance. Peter’s joyful gaze found yours as he sprinted towards you. “I knew when you didn’t respond to the meme I sent you this morning, something was up!” he said excitedly as he spins you in a hug as a laugh bubbles out of you.

“Hey kid, yeah I was on a flight back from South Africa” you smile and separate from him before you see his joyful gaze darken at something behind you.

“Y/N.” you hear softly from behind you, and you freeze.

You turn around and place a polite smile on your face, not quite ready for the conversation ahead.

“Steve” you say and nod at him, he moves as though he’s going to hug you but thinks again and moves back and you’re somewhat grateful, you don’t think you’d be able to compose yourself.

You all stand in awkward silence for a bit before you break it, “I should uh” you gesture inside and he nods before he opens his mouth, “Can I help with your bags?” he asks nervously.

You were hoping to have a few minutes to compose yourself, but Steve is probably right to get the conversation out of the way.

As you both walk through the tower, you realise how quiet it is and make note to thank everyone for steering clear of the both of you.

As you both reached your old room since you had been sharing with Steve, you place you bag down before you turn to Steve who is standing sadly outside your room. “You can come in” you tease him and that snaps him out of his mood as he moves to sit at the desk in front of your bed and you sit on your bed.

“So” you both start before you motion to Steve to carry on.

“I love you y/n, I don’t want this to be the end, can we please work on this? I promise I’ll do better, and I won’t choose Sharon over you ever again.” He rushes out in what you assume is an attempt to stop the inevitable.

You smile at him in pity and before you can start talking you see him shaking his head as tears fill his eyes. “Steve, if you really wanted me as bad as you say you do, where was all this attention and affection this last month? Why did it take me leaving for you to realise how badly you fucked up?” you question and watch as he breaks in front of you.

The last week must have been hell for him, the same way the last month was for you.

“Please just let me try y/n, let me try please” he pleads as he moves from sitting in the small chair to kneeling before you as he grasps your hands.

You move your hands to grasp his face as you wipe his tears.

“Love, I will always love you but you need to realise how hard it was for me to sit here on standby every time you left me for Sharon, I need to choose myself for once” you confess and Steve sobs into your legs as you thread your hands through his hair as you try and calm him down.

You watch as Steve tries to compose himself in front of you before he looks into your eyes in determination. “I’m going to prove it to you” he says seriously, and you nod to placate him before he shakes his head in protest. “No, you don’t understand, I am going to prove to you how much you mean to me y/n” he says and some part of you is hopeful he tries as hard as he says he’s going to be this time.

“I’m not going to sit around and wait for you to make it up to me Steve, you’re going to have to work for it” you say, and he deflates but nonetheless nods in understanding, realistically he acknowledges that he deserved worse treatment. He just can’t stand the idea of you finding love and connection with someone that isn’t him.

[hopefulcanary]

reevaluating his life choices in decon

Just Bones Things™ ❤️‍🩹

[leggerefiore]

what are the train twins like when they're drunk? if they ever allow themselves to get past buzzed? (loving your new icon and aesthetic btw)

▼Subway Bosses Drunk HCs△

● Rarely, do they actually get drunk. The twins are extremely responsible drinkers and usually only engage with it socially. A gathering with employees after work, a party they were invited to; only if the event calls for it. There are few times where they drink recreational, so there's sparse opportunity for them to get inebriated.

● Ingo used to struggle with drinking, so he's very hesitant to drink anything stronger than a red wine, even then, he limits it down to one glass. Usually, he'll get an amber ale and call it a day. Though, should he be encouraged to drink something stronger, he'll lean into whiskeys or bourbons. He's not a fan of clear spirits, so he actively refuses to drink them. He also doesn't enjoy cocktails or mixes too much. If an alcohol can't be drank on its own, then it isn't worth his time.

○ Emmet just hates the idea of being drunk, and he's a bit traumatised from seeing Ingo struggle with alcoholism for a moment. He doesn't want to fall into that pit. Similarly to Ingo, he drinks lightly. Unlike Ingo, he refuses to drink most things as they are out of his flavour range. He'll order an ale, then drink it in the smallest of sips. It's disgusting to him. When he does go for something stronger, he'll order a cocktail that's grossly sweet. Things like a bushwhacker, a white Russian and a mudslide. The younger twin thinks his older brother is insane for drinking straight spirits.

● Now, for when Ingo gets drunk, it's terribly funny. His usually stiffness is gone with the wind, and suddenly, he's everyone's best friend. Everything someone says to him causes him to start laughing, and he forgets things. He sees Emmet and starts ugly crying because why does someone look just like him? The younger twin is horrified by his brother's sudden shift.

People walk away with Ingo's number with ease, so he ends up having to send extremely professional apologies. He makes entire friends, only to forget them the next morning. It's all terribly sad for the other parties. He'll also chat your ear off while being obnoxiously loud.

○ Emmet can be similar to his brother, but there's always the chance for him to bed a sad drunk. He's terribly confused by things, as well. There is a moment where he thinks he's not old enough to drink and starts acting extremely paranoid whenever his server asks him a question. He's zoning out a lot and humming to himself, just enjoying the feeling of his bubbly head for a few moments. Though, when he's a sad drunk… Well, Elesa is rubbing the poor guy's back while he bawls his heart out. Why do people think he talks weird? He just doesn't have anything to say! Ingo has to console his baby brother like when they were younger. It's all so terribly depressing. Emmet is taken home pretty soon after and tucked in with Galvantula guarding him.

● A particularly bad incident is where Ingo had gotten so drunk that he felt extremely sensitive to temperature. His many layers felt too hot, so, as any reasonable person does, the twin began to shed his layers. This was alright until he started unbuttoning his top. Emmet physically restrained him before he did an impromptu stripping. Ingo denies he ever did this, but photos snapped by fans prove he most certainly did. He fought back against Emmet, too. Yelling at him for denying the right to cool off.

○ Emmet's most embarrassing moment was when he decided to do drunken karaoke. His song choice was most unfortunate. Everyone watched him completely get into it, dancing and posing. His voice wasn't that bad, either. It was just terribly sad when he started crying at the end and Elesa had to walk him off stage. This, too, was recorded and went viral around Nimbasa. People started playing it whenever they saw him (or Ingo) walking around the station or on the trains. It came to ahead when a trainer blasted it battling him. Emmet destroyed them most viciously.

thank you i suffered to make it

i have an emmet too (i love geometric patterns,,, 60s clothes are my shit. irl i have a vintage look because i can and will marry mod fashion trends and hippie styles.)

[littlemissnoname13]

Blaise’s Cup of Tea (D.M)

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader

Warnings: some mentions of alcohol, very mild sexual themes, nothing too explicit, Draco being a fûxkboy ,Draco being a huge simp

Summary: where Draco is secretly in love with his best friend’s fiancée

Word count: 2122

A/n: had this idea in the shower and I couldn’t help myself. The blog has been a mess recently and for that I apologise.

For Draco Malfoy, a typical night usually consisted of three things. 

First, a glass of his favourite spirit; preferably scotch in his hand.

Second, a cigar tucked in between his fingers

And third, a random girl in his bed chambers. It didn't matter if his company for the night shared the same interests as him, it didn't matter if she liked him for who he was or if she liked him solely for being the heir to the massive Malfoy fortune. 

Come morning, he would never have to see her again anyway. 

His Father, Lucius always chastised him for bringing a different girl as a plus one to social events. Even Narcissa wasn't all too pleased about her son engaging in all these hedonistic activities and bedding random girls. 

The friends he’d grown up with were all well on their way to settling down and having children while he was still not even close to having a serious relationship. 

“Why can’t you be more like Zabini?” Lucius would say, everytime the Malfoys sat down for a family dinner. Narcissa would agree to this while expressing her desire for grandchildren and Draco would have to refrain from choking on his dinner. 

Blaise Zabini, was happily engaged to longtime girlfriend Daphne Greengrass and they were busy planning their Summer wedding. 

Every time Draco would meet Blaise for a drink, all he’d talk about was Daphne, the wedding, floral arrangements, invites and party favours. Just last week, Blaise even confessed to having already thought out names for his future children. 

Taking a final sip of his scotch, Draco placed his glass on his desk and returned to his bed, where a random brunette girl was peacefully asleep. 

He took a few moments to recall her given name in his mind but this attempt remained futile. He couldn’t even remember how he felt while they were doing the deed a few hours prior. 

His father was right, he was slowly turning into, for a lack of a better term, “Pig person.”

As he quietly slipped into his bed next to the brunette, he started to think about all the one night stands he’d had in the last few months. 

One night stands are appropriately called one night stands for a reason. He knew that. 

But it wasn't his fault he couldn’t get that one particular night from four months ago with that one particular girl out of his system. 

It had all started out so innocently. 

A chance encounter at a bar, alcohol fueled conversation, his hands on her hips on the dance floor and his lips on her lips by the end of the night. 

He’d never before met anybody so charming yet painfully frustrating in his life. 

Y/n. Y/l/n. 

Distinctive features, expressive eyes and lips that quirked upward with a wicked smile.She had one of those faces that had the capability of engraving itself into one’s subconscious and the way her brows furrowed in annoyance indicated that she might have been aware and unnerved by it. 

In the few hours he’d spent with her, she’d stimulated his brain with her wits and intellect. She’d made him care about uninteresting things like the witch burnings in the 14th Century. She’d challenged his predetermined notions and world view.

Everything about her was vivacious.

Her effervescence reminded him of a freshly opened bottle of sparkling Rosé on a hot summers day. Crisp yet sweet if you took in a moment for the flavours to sink in. 

And Merlin was this girl could kiss!

The way she gently nipped on his lower lip and teasingly traced her tongue left him with something more to be desired. 

Nothing happened with Y/n that night. Nothing except feverish kisses and whispers of “I want you.”

They’d spent the whole night talking. He’d never spent the night with a girl and not done anything before. 

And she’d left before he could even manage to open his eyes the next morning. 

She’d disappeared without a sign or trace.

Nothing but her fruity fresh scent on his pillows remained to remind him that she was in fact real and not some hallucination. 

Draco went the the very same bar again the next day with his hopes held high. He wanted to see her again. He needed to see her again. 

But to his utter dismay, y/n never showed up. 

Soon, it became a habit of his to go to the bar and wait for her.

He’d gotten so desperate at one point that he even interrogated the bar keep about the girl that had seemingly managed to capture his attention in the span of a night. 

But no matter how hard he tried, Draco never got any answers. 

She became nothing but a distant ghost of a rather blissfully perfect night. 

Just when he was about to toss away the memories of y/n and her pretty lips inside a locked and chained box in his head, he heard his house elf appear with a pop into his bed chambers. 

“Master Malfoy, this letter just came for you.” The elf said quietly as he stretched out his arm to hand Draco a sealed envelope. 

Draco would have told his elf off for appearing in his chambers in the middle of the night but decided against it when he saw the scrawl of Blaise’s messy handwriting on the envelope. 

It was two in the morning and a rather odd time for Blaise to be sending him a letter. 

Assuming that it must be something urgent, Draco quickly ripped open the seal and unfolded the letter. 

Draco, 

I write this with a heavy heart and I write this with nothing for company except a bottle of bourbon. 

Daphne left me this morning. 

The wedding is off and it is all my fault. 

To be honest, It did feel like things were going too fast and we were jumping to life altering decisions without taking the time to think and contemplate. 

After thinking all day, I have decided to get married after all. 

Your mother has been rather kind and offered to set me up with a girl that is supposedly “perfect for me.” Although I definitely trust her judgement, It would be great if you could “assist” Narcissa in her search. You are my best friend after all. 

B.Z.

By the time Draco was done reading Blaise’s letter, the girl sleeping next to him had started to toss and turn in her sleep. 

~~~

When his mum flooed into his residence the next morning, Draco’s company for the night, who was named Sylvia by the way, was just on her way out. 

Sylvia was rather laid back and was looking for nothing other than a rebound. Draco had offered her tea but she’d politely declined stating that she had brunch planned with her friends anyway. 

“And who is this charming young lady, Draco?” Narcissa asked. 

“She’s Sylvia and Sylvia was just on her way out.” Draco said in a clipped voice before literally shoving an annoyed looking Sylvia into the fireplace. 

“It was nice meeting you Mrs. Malfoy.” Sylvia said in a calm and polite voice, with floo powder in her hands. “See you around Draco.” 

“And I thought, you were finally serious for once.” Narcissa sighed before sinking down into one of the many chairs Draco had in his living room. 

Draco wanted to say something sarcastic in response but he bit his tongue and held it all back. There were more pressing matters at hand that required his attention. Like helping his mum find an appropriate match for Blaise who has so casually placed such a huge responsibility on his shoulders. 

The responsibility required him to go on multiple, rather tiresome “dates” set up by his mother. 

The first girl he met mistook him for Blaise. 

The second girl he met confessed that she was being coaxed into the meeting by her overbearing parents and had a secret Muggle boyfriend that she loved with her whole heart. 

The third girl he met was one of Blaise’s ex girlfriends.

The fourth girl turned out to be one of Draco’s own one night stands that had ended on a sour note.

It was safe to say that Draco returned to his mother that night with his shirt stained burgundy from the wine she’d poured over his head. He deserved it though.

Narcissa even agreed that he’d deserved it because she broke into a chuckle when her son walked into the Malfoy Manor with drops of wine falling from his blond hair. 

“Well this is a disaster.” Draco muttered to his mother who gave him an accomplished looking smile in return.

“This was a Disaster.” She quipped, before leaning towards the coffee table to pour herself some more tea. “Luckily, I’ve already found someone I deem to be a suitable partner for Blaise.”

“You have?” 

“I have. I too have been pulling some reins and meeting people personally for Blaise. He is like a son to me after all.” 

“Looks like I got splashed with a vintage red for no apparent reason then.” Draco muttered before using his wand to summon a clean cotton shirt. 

Narcissa simply shook her head at her son and stood up from her chair. “I’ve actually invited her for tea today so that you’d be able to meet her as well. Why don’t you fix your hair and put on a clean shirt before she gets here hm?”

Draco knew there was no point in arguing with his mother. 

When Narcissa Malfoy wanted things done, she’d sure as hell go ahead and get them done. A true Slytherin she was. 

He quickly unbuttoned his shirt and used a cleaning charm on his hair. He would have preferred to shower but he didn’t really have the time to dilly-dally around.

“Fancy seeing you here.” He heard a voice say, just as he was about to put on his clean shirt. 

It was a familiar voice and it raised prickling goosebumps all over his exposed flesh.

The goosebumps were a natural reaction to hearing a voice he’d replayed over and over in his head every single night for the last four months. 

In front of him stood Y/n Y/l/n in the flesh. Very much real and not a ghost of his imagination, clad in a blush coloured midi dress with a sweetheart neckline. 

He opened his mouth to answer but his mother beat him to it. 

“Welcome to our home. Sit down, have some tea with us.” Narcissa said in her best hostess voice and all Draco could do was force his hanging jaw shut. 

~~~~~~

The next few hours felt like the longest yet shortest few hours of his life. 

He was still processing the fact that he had in fact seen the girl, the ghost, the memory right in front of his eyes, wearing a dress that made her look like a scene in a vintage film. 

His palms were sweaty, his head was reeling, his throat was as dry as the Sahara and he could barely pay any attention to a word his mother was saying. 

“Draco?” Narcissa cleared her throat when he failed to respond. “Draco dear, are you listening?”

“Yes mother.” He replied curtly before taking a sip of his tea in a desperate attempt to soothe his throat. 

After what seemed like another torturous hour of tea and polite conversation, you thanked Narcissa for having you and leaned in to place a chaste kiss on his cheek before taking the floo network. 

“The Y/l/n family has been a friend to our family for years.” Narcissa commented. “I think Blaise would be rather fond of y/n. What do you think, Draco?”

He wanted to tell his mother about the time he spent with you four months ago.

He wanted to tell her that he was ready for a serious relationship if it was with you. 

He never really cared for the colour pink but it suddenly felt like a rather nice colour. 

You were witty, clever, sincere and extremely gorgeous. Of course Blaise would like you. He’d be a fool not to. 

After taking a few more seconds to carefully contemplate the situation at hand, Draco finally opened his mouth. 

“Yes, I think Blaise would like Y/n.”

Narcissa looked at him with a satisfied smile and the weight of a fully grown giant landed on Draco’s shoulder. 

Maybe you weren't Blaise’s cup of tea.

Maybe he’ll get back together with Daphne. Yeah, that would be perfect. 

But what if he didn’t?

Could Draco live his whole life knowing that he was absolutely smitten with his Best Friend’s soon to be Fiancée?

~~~

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Read my other stories here.

Lots of love as always,

Vi

[snelbz]

Tempting the Fates {Chapter 3}

Summary: It’s the final semester of Aelin Galathynius’ collegiate career and she is so beyond ready to be done. Her schedule is packed full of nursing classes and labs designed to test her knowledge and hone her skills for the real world and her “big girl” job. However, she needs one last elective to graduate, so she decides to study a subject she’s always been fascinated by: Mythology. Who would have thought that a class about gods and goddesses living complicated lives would end up complicating her own in such an unexpected way?

Word Count: 2807

Chapters will be posted every Wednesday.

Tempting the Fates Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist 

Poseidon

– God of the seas, earthquakes, horses and tidal waves

Aelin had moved past hurt.

Now, she was just pissed.

It was nearly ten o'clock after her second day of classes and she sat cross legged on the couch with Lysandra in her apartment.

Her roommate had been a worthy rant partner thus far. She’d kicked Aedion out and supplied Aelin with an endless supply of alcohol.

“It’s official. I’m sitting in your Thursday class.”

Aelin groaned, taking a long drink from her wine glass. “Don't remind me that I have to go back there, please. The thought of sitting through an entire semester with him as my teacher… Oh, gods.”

Lysandra refilled Aelin’s glass.

“You’ve done the hookup thing before,” Lysandra said, shrugging as she took a drink from her own glass. “Just pretend this is one of those situations and he meant absolutely nothing.”

“That’s impossible, for two reasons,” Aelin said, adjusting the pillow she had squished between her legs. She held up a finger. “One, it’s not like the regular hookup situation where I might see him across campus or in a bar and we can pretend we don’t know each other. This is my professor we’re talking about.” She took a very large drink of her wine and held up another finger. “Secondly, it was supposed to be a hookup, but then he turned out to be perfect and I just…” She let her head fall back against the cushions. “Do you think I just want him because I can’t have him?”

“Maybe,” Lysandra admitted, but she hadn’t ever been in a situation like this. She and Aedion had been inseparable since high school. “What does your gut say?”

“I don’t know, they’re still in knots from where he rearranged them with his huge dick,” Aelin replied, draining her wine glass.

Lysandra nearly sprayed her wine across the couch, but she knew Aelin was well and truly drunk if she was talking like that.

“So, he still means something to you, then?” Lysandra asked. “Even after you found out he’s your professor, and also a little bit of a dick, apparently.”

Aelin shot her a look. “No, I’m drunk off my ass because he means nothing to me. Have you not been listening?”

Lysandra rolled her eyes. “Oh, I’ve been listening. But, after two hours things just start to blur together and not make sense.”

Aelin hit her roommate with her pillow.

Lysandra only laughed. “Maybe sit and think on it for a few days, yeah? Maybe it’s new and exciting and he’s hot as hell, but all that will fade if it meant nothing.”

Aelin nodded, slowly, fiddling with the stem of her wine glass. “And if it doesn’t fade? If it actually meant something?”

“If it actually meant something, then he won’t be forgetting about you any time soon, either,” Lysandra said, sipping from her glass.

She was still on glass #1.

Aelin had lost count of how many glasses she had drained so far.

“Doesn’t make it any easier now,” Aelin said, that hurt creeping its way back in. “You should’ve seen him, Lys. This morning, at his apartment, it was just…perfect. Then when he saw me in class, he was a completely different person.”

“Have you tried to see this from his perspective, Ace?” Lysandra asked, standing and heading into the kitchen. She handed Aelin a cold water bottle when she returned, falling back onto the couch next to her.

“Of course,” she snapped, opening the lid. “And I get it, it’s a big deal, but it’s not like I’m underage. I’m twenty-one, not sixteen. It’s not like he broke the law.”

“No, but I’m sure there’s a bylaw somewhere in his contract that says Don’t fuck your students,” Lysandra drawled, tucking her legs between her.

Aelin mumbled, “I bet it doesn’t say exactly that.”

“No, I’m sure it’s more along the line of inappropriate misconduct, but if we’re getting specific, it wouldn’t be hard for me to find an example,” she replied, leveling Aelin with a stare.

“Calm your pre-law ass down, I get it,” Aelin sighed, drinking from the water bottle. “His aunt is the president of the university. I wouldn’t want him to get into any trouble with her.”

Lysandra’s eyes softened. “He probably just got scared. I hear he’s a new professor. This must be his first year here. Hell, if he’s as young as you say, this must be his first year anywhere.”

Luck. He’d gotten the job purely out of luck, out of his connections to the university, and here Aelin was, jeopardizing his career as soon as it began.

“I’m being a bitch, aren’t I?” She asked, quietly, before draining her glass.

“You have the right to be hurt,” Lysandra said. “I’m not saying you don’t have that right, because I’d be hurt, too. But, I definitely think that this is complicated as hell.”

Aelin nodded, and took a drink of water before pouring the last of the wine into her glass. “We’re going to need another bottle of this, Lys.”

“I would just take you to the bar,” Lysandra said, “but I wouldn’t want to risk you fucking any of the other faculty.”

Aelin’s eyes snapped to hers.

Lysandra sucked in her lips to stop her grin. “Too soon?”

Aelin nudged her best friend, unable to stop her sputtering laughter. “Bitch.”

Lysandra caught her before she leaned back across the couch and held onto her shoulders, hugging her tightly. “I know this sucks, Ace, and I know you liked him. But just give it time. Either you’ll move on, which I can always help with, or something will happen. It’s not like you won’t be seeing him every other day.”

She sighed, resting her head on Lysandra's shoulder. “I know… I know.”

Lysandra reached for the remote, turning the television on. “What would make you feel better? Sappy love story, trashy reality tv, or a horror flick?”

“Trashy tv,” she decided, if for no other reason than it would be easy for her to block out while she still wallowed in her own misery.

Lysandra did as she was told, refilling Aelin’s glass again, and she thanked her best friend.

All the while, Aelin wondered how pissed Rowan was, or if he was feeling the same way she was.

*

A knock on Rowan’s door around nine-thirty had him closing his laptop and throwing it open. He groaned when he found Lorcan on the other side, walking back inside and leaving his best friend to let himself in.

“Alright, fill me in on Little Miss Perfect you took out last night. She was all you could talk about this morning, and then boom.” He sat down on the couch next to Rowan, noticing the half empty bottle of bourbon and looked at him. “Radio silence for the rest of the day.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” he muttered. “Shouldn’t you be going home to your girlfriend?”

“She’s out with Manon,” Lorcan said, blowing off the question. “I’m bored, so talk.”

Rowan sighed, pushing himself up to go into his kitchen. He came back a moment later, two glasses in hand. He supposed he couldn’t continue to drink out of the bottle with company.

After handing Lorcan a half-filled glass, Rowan said, “It’s just not going to work.”

“You decided that quickly,” Lorcan muttered, his eyes remaining locked on Rowan. “Did you google her after she left? Find something cringeworthy?”

Rowan sipped from his glass. “She’s just not who I thought she was, that’s all.”

Lorcan scoffed. “You’re being vague.”

Rowan shrugged. That seemed to be the only answer he was going to give him.

“So what?” Lorcan asked, crossing an ankle over his knee and swirling the contents of his glass. “She lied and you caught her?”

“No, she didn’t lie,” Rowan said, dragging a hand down his face. “But it can’t happen. So it won’t.”

Lorcan raised one dark eyebrow. “First you say won’t, now you say can’t.”

Rowan emptied his glass. “What about it?”

“Well, which one is it?” He asked, leaning back. “Those two have very different meanings.”

“It can’t and it won’t,” he replied, giving Lorcan a pointed look.

Lorcan snorted, but took a drink from his own glass. “You act like she’s one of your students.”

Rowan didn’t say a word. He only stared at his closed laptop.

It took Lorcan a few seconds to understand Rowan’s silence. And a few more before he figured out how to make his mouth work.

And when he did, he started laughing.

“Are you kidding me, Whitethorn?” He asked, clutching his stomach. “You fucked your student?”

“Fuck off,” Rowan muttered, refilling his glass.

Lorcan was hardly able to breathe. “It was your first day at your first big boy job, and you already found yourself in bed-.” His words faded away as his laughter consumed him.

“It’s not like she’s some freshman,” Rowan snapped. “She’s about to graduate. Twenty-one. I just…” Rowan groaned as his face fell into his hands. “Someone had recommended the bar to me and told me the faculty hung out there a lot. I just assumed she was one of them, since she was the one to suggest the place.”

“Hate to break it to you,” Lorcan continued, still laughing. “But, people in their twenties don’t often land jobs at renowned universities. You’re the exception.”

Rowan continued to drink.

“Alright, alright,” Lorcan continued, taking a deep breath. “You’re five years older than her, so what? I’m four years older than Elide. Once you both hit twenty, age is just a number.”

Rowan shot him a look. “She’s a student, Lor. Maeve will fire me in a heartbeat over any sort of misconduct. This…” He just shook his head. “This position is a once in a lifetime opportunity that I probably shouldn’t even have. I can’t ruin it.”

Lorcan knew full well how harsh Rowan’s aunt could be. Before she’d become president of a prestigious university, she’d been the dean at the boarding school he and Rowan had spent their adolescence at. “So either move on or be careful and don’t let her find out.”

Rowan blinked at his friend. He was being so casual about this, when Rowan was freaking out both inside and out, which had required a two hour gym session earlier to calm his nerves.

Lorcan sighed and set his glass down. “Look, I really don’t see the issue here. She isn’t using you to pass the class, right?”

The thought hadn’t even occurred to Rowan, but he remembered the look of pure and utter shock on her face when they’d seen each other in the classroom. “No, it’s a basic gen ed. Plus I really don’t think she’d ever do that.”

Lorcan nodded. “Right. There are much tougher classes she could try and sleep her way through.” At Rowan’s simmering look at his choice of words, Lorcan held up his hands in placation. “I’m just saying, make sure she’s actually doing her homework and studying for her and don’t let Maeve find out.”

Rowan hesitated, but when his lips opened, nothing came out.

He liked Aelin. He really, really liked Aelin. And, yeah, it had been much more than a hookup. When he’d woken up that morning next to her in bed, he felt a sense of peace and satisfaction that he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

Then again, the way he’d snapped at her that morning, knowing that she had only said what she had out of anger - even if she had been correct - would be difficult to come back from.

Rowan had completely shattered her. He saw it in her eyes before she left.

“I don’t know,” Rowan said, at last.

Lorcan groaned before pounding back his drink and pouring himself another. “You’re always going to be the one to stand in the way of your own happiness, Whitethorn.”

He refrained from saying anything. Lorcan had always been the one to hop from girl to girl, while he had always been the one in a committed relationship. After his last relationship had…ended, he hadn’t wanted anyone for a while.

Aelin was the first spark he’d felt since.

“You’re into her,” Lorcan said, staring up at the ceiling to avoid any sort of eye contact while he said something nice. “I can tell. And, if you don’t go for it, you’re going to regret it.”

Rowan knew he was right.

Of course, he was right.

And yet, this job was the first job he had been granted in his field since graduating three years prior with his degree in mythology. Yeah, he may have gotten it because of Maeve, but that didn’t make it any less important to him.

He had the chance to get students excited about something he loved, something he was passionate about.

“Go home to your woman or shut up and turn on the TV,” Rowan muttered, downing the contents in his glass.

Lorcan only snorted and grabbed the remote, fulfilling Rowan’s wishes.

*

Aelin awoke the next morning with a slight headache and the same dull ache in her chest.

Knowing she needed to move, workout the bad vibes, she tossed up her hair and put on her workout wear before jogging to the gym.

She was still regretting signing up for even one eight am classes, and was thankful her Friday’s were free. She was looking forward to some much needed sleep, which was a lost cause right now.

When she was packing her gym bag, she decided to go straight to class after a quick shower, so she tossed it into a locker after she arrived, locked it up, and put her ear buds in.

The gym was still pretty empty this early, since it wasn’t even eight yet, and most people were too focused on their own workouts to pay attention to those surrounding them. Aelin was grateful for the distraction the gym would provide, and for the physical outlet, as well.

She was just finishing up a mile run on the treadmills when she felt eyes on her. She could tell she was being watched, but didn’t want to look around. Whether it was someone ogling her from across the room or someone from one of her classes, she wasn’t in the mood to make small talk and made her way over to the machines, starting on her legs first. She cranked her music up and kept an eye on the time on her watch.

When there was about forty-five minutes before her first class, she put the free weights she’d been using back in their home and turned to head to the locker room for a much needed shower.

And found who had been watching her during her workout.

Green eyes bored into her own and Aelin felt a blush rising in her cheeks that had nothing to do with the amount of energy she’d exerted this early in the morning.

Ignoring the voice inside of her head, Aelin stopped in front of Rowan, and nodded. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he said, wiping the sweat from his brow. His t-shirt clung to him, and it was a fact that Aelin could not ignore.

“I was just going to get ready for class,” she said. “Excuse me.”

She swept past him, but his voice pulled her up short. “Aelin.”

She stilled, and slowly turned around to meet his gaze.

“About yesterday,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck. Aelin found the gesture somewhat charming, although she wouldn’t admit it. “I’m sorry. I…didn’t handle the situation right. It all took me by surprise and I reacted poorly. I’m sorry.”

“S’okay,” she said, looking away from him, down at her feet. “I said some things I didn’t mean. I’m…not proud of it.”

He shook his head. “Let’s just…pretend all of it didn’t happen, yeah?”

She swallowed roughly. “All of it?”

Rowan sighed. “Just because we apologized doesn’t change anything, Aelin. You’re still my student.”

She nodded, not looking at him. “Right. No. I get it. I have to get ready for class.”

Making to slip around him, she got two steps away before his hand wrapped around her wrist. “Aelin, I’m… I’m sorry. I wish it wasn’t— I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”

Daring to take a chance by looking back at him, it nearly destroyed what was left of her when she saw the sincerity in his eyes. “But wishing doesn’t change anything, does it?” Aelin pulled her wrist free. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

Rowan said nothing, but she saw that her shot landed in his eyes.

She shook it off, though, hurrying away, toward the showers.

Aelin knew one thing was for certain: no matter how much she cared for Rowan Whitethorn, there would never be anything between them.

Even if she wanted there to be.

[thetorturerwrites]

Welcoming Work

Summary:  “I’m…” You faltered, trying to find a way to explain what was happening to someone who likely had no idea about any of this. But he nuzzled you like a puppy, and your smile led the way. 

“It's welcoming work.”The way he sat up straighter, moved your hair to one side so he could see better, and leaned into you, threatened to melt you into a puddle of goo.

“I need to welcome a new city,” you said. “New job. New apartment. New opportunities and friends.”

Author’s Note: My favorite slut is at it again, this time with a little woo thrown in. 

Also:   The contents herein come with facets of my own witchery and practice. If this doesn't line up with your practice, don't come for me. All paths are inherently personal, and I'm not gonna argue mine.

A bit of sex, a bit of fluff, a bit of crafting.

***

♪ Be my sister, sister of the moon   Some call her sister of the moon ♪

You sang under your breath as you walked. Fleetwood Mac always opened craft days. The slightly mystic sound calmed you, centered you to a place to begin. As the day wore on, the soundtrack would become progressively more intense. Santana. Florence + The Machine. Music was the gateway, the shot to start the race.

You’d planned today for a month, checking your calendar and your pantry and stock for ingredients. Everything aligned perfectly, right down to the day of the week. Saturday, so you could get yourself feeling good all day and be genuinely ready later and not scrambling to throw it all together.

It was this plan that had you knocking on Adam’s door at 1 in the afternoon.

“Hey-eee?!” His smooth voice tilted up a bit at the end, surprised to see you in his hallway. “What’s up?”

You had no idea why he called you kid, nor did you have any idea why it felt so good that he did.

Adam Sackler was one of the first people who befriended you here. You worked part time as a stagehand for the theatre company he acted for. He smiled a lot which you really liked. It lit up his face; and when his hair was pushed back and out of the way, his ears wiggled with every smile. He had an infectious personality.

In addition, he was one of the most attractive mother fuckers you’d ever seen in your life. All broad shoulders and muscles. He was, simultaneously, a gigantic goofball and a walking aphrodisiac.

“Hey, Adam!” You gave him a friendly wave but shook your head when he opened the door for you to come inside. “I won’t be long. Wanted to talk to you about something real quick.”

He was also an unabashed sex fiend who flirted shamelessly. You lost count of how many suggestions he’d made about shagging you silly, and you couldn’t remember anybody ever winking at you in your life, but he did. He often pointed to the bathroom door with an indecent brow lift, silently asking you if you wanted a quickie. Without fail, you snickered and shook your head.

You probably should have turned him in for harassment, but part of you knew he’d stop the instant you said don’t. And the rest of you decided that you liked the way all his comments, queries, and suggestions made you giggle. You needed happiness these days.

“Shoot.”

He leaned on the door, casually looking like the world’s largest lollipop, and you worked hard to not ogle him. It was decidedly not a simple task.

“You know all the comments you make about quickies in the back of the theatre or walking me home at night to make me breakfast?” You canted your head because he shifted uncomfortably. His face darkened a bit, and you knew it was because he expected to be chastised. “I’d like to take you up on that.”

Interest flitted across his handsome features, and he took a step towards you.

“Is that right?” He smirked and tried to tug you into the apartment by the strap of your bag. “Think I can make time for you, kid.”

A wide smile broke across your face. You couldn't help it. The absurd things he said entertained you. He was the most adorable idiot you’d ever known.

“Ah, I was actually thinking later tonight. Would that work for you? I have some things to do this afternoon.”

It wasn’t a lie. You had things to do, but you were more interested in the thing's timing. You had an agenda; and as appealing as an afternoon in his bed sounded, you were sticking to it.

“Why now?”

His question gave you pause. It was a fair question, but you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to answer truthfully. He might think you bizarre and not worth it. Don’t fuck crazy, as they say.

“I’m dealing with some things,” you said. “I could use the boost. Think you could come by around 8?”

♪ Dark lady laughed and danced and lit the candles one by one   Danced to her gypsy music 'til her brew was done ♪

The knock at your door came at 7:45. Entertained, your lips twitched because he never struck you as the punctual type. It could almost be construed as eager.

Inside of two minutes, you had your ‘hey kid’ and the single carnation he brought for you. You twirled it in hand and smelled it with the coy look you knew always won cute points. And then he was in your apartment, mischievous eyes looking you up and down before surveying everything beyond you.

“Holy fuck, your place smells amazing.”

You smiled at the compliment, tucking the carnation into one of too many glass jars you had on the counter top. You pointed to the large pot of simmering cider. Your apartment smelled of fruit, cloves, and bourbon. He wasn’t wrong; it was amazing. Beyond that, the pleased sound he made had your insides buzzing.

“Are you hungry?” You ducked out of the kitchen to finish the task he interrupted. “I finished supper a bit ago, but there’s still some left if you are.”

Finally looking away from the yumminess on your stove, he watched as you circled your place, striking match after match. Your apartment glowed with candlelight; pillars and votives adorned anything with a flat surface. It gave the room a warmth, the type of succulent vibe that always made you feel sensual and open.

“You tryin’ to romance me, kid?”

It wasn’t condescending or belittling. It was an appreciative joke. The grin on his face said he was poking fun at you, but the crinkle of his nose and eyes said he liked it. The lick of his lips said he also appreciated your flowy, nearly see-through linen trousers and little white tank top.

“Uh-uh,” you shook your head. Flashing eyes accompanied a little twirl of your fingers. “It’s magic.”

Your sassy quip seemed to delight him because he pushed off of the stool he’d claimed and crossed the room like a panther. There was something hunterish about him, and it was oh so tempting. It occurred to you, for the millionth time, exactly how tall he was when he curled down around you. His long arms encircled your waist, pulling you flush. His lips found the crook of your neck, and he nudged your earlobe with the bridge of his nose.

“Magic, huh?” He began a wholly distracting trail of kisses along the side of your throat. “You smell good, too.”

“Mhm.” You splayed your fingers across his pectorals, enjoying the steady beat of his heart. “You’re gonna help me.”

He lifted his head to look at you, curiosity clear in his arched brow and pursed lips. 

You swallowed, gulped more like. Time to jump off the bridge. You didn’t want to lie to him, but your path wasn’t exactly mainstream. Most people thought you silly or devil-driven. But you couldn’t raise the type of energy you wanted on a lie.

“Oh, yeah?” He cocked his head to one side, deliberating. “What am I gonna do?”

You wanted him to make you vibrate, to fill you up with that endless jubilation he always had. You wanted him to raise enough power that the top of your head would blow off. You wanted the mundane world to fall away and the inner world, where courage and spirit and wisdom lay, to rise up and work.

“Well,” you sighed dramatically, “if you suck at sex, I’m gonna be mad because that’s pretty much it.” Again, you twirled your fingers around to mark the atmosphere. “Gonna raise some energy.”

You’d never been shy about your craft, but you were careful with it. Too many times in your past, you’d felt mocked, chastised, outright chased out of homes. The name calling never affected you, but losing friendships and partners was hard. Something about Adam, though, told you he was up for pretty much anything.

“Hm.” He pondered it for a moment before nudging the tip of your nose with his. “Soft and slow energy or quick and rough energy?”

“Yes.” You nodded, cheeky and matter-of-fact. “But there is one thing I’d like to ask.”

“What’s that?”

“Don’t say mean things to me, ok?”

Adam’s predilection for dirty talk was legendary. The people he’d already slept with at the theatre gossiped about it regularly.

“I’m not a slut or a whore.” You furrowed your brow because it wasn’t entirely true. You didn’t mind it, really, but tonight needed to be specific. Good vibes. “At least not tonight. Ok?”

His fingers slithered under the hem of your tank, seeking skin. He leaned into your space and kissed a slow line from your chin, along your jaw, to your ear, where he whispered naughty things.

“Already thinking about fucking me again?”

With his arm about you so securely, he stretched you onto your toes as he straightened up to his near full height. And when he dipped his mouth to yours for the first time, you knew you made a wise decision. His lips were soft but sure, and he tasted like honey, as you suspected. The sound you made when his tongue slid along yours made him squeeze you a little tighter.

He sunk into it; you could feel it. His shoulders dropped, his fingers curled into your flesh, and his even breath blew across your cheek. His kisses were intoxicating, hungry but unhurried. He licked at the roof of your mouth and nipped at your lower lip. You slid your hands along his shoulders, up the back of his neck, and into his hair. He was solid, but slightly vulnerable in the best way.

Bending down to hook his hand under the crook of your knee, he wrapped your leg around his waist and hoisted you up as though you weighed little more than a feather. Long strides had him at the foot of your bed before he’d finished anchoring your other leg to his middle. You were never so grateful for a studio apartment with its no-wall, no-room layout.

“Hold tight, kid.”

He murmured it against your mouth, and you nodded against his in return. You cinched your thighs tight, which made him groan ever so softly, and bore your own weight for his shoes, socks, and belt to come off without him ever setting you down. Crawling onto your bed, he eased you to the mattress, knelt upright, and peeled off his shirt. A bite to your lip kept you from salivating all over yourself at the sight of him, his muscles, and that extraordinary ‘v’ that disappeared into his waistband.

He didn’t peel them off, but he did pop the button on his jeans to make a little more room for what you expected was something long and thick. Short-circuiting that thought, he leaned down over you and gave you the kind of kisses you’d only seen in movies. He was a staggeringly good kisser, making you squirm more and more with the curl of his tongue and the teasing scrape of his teeth. When he bit your shoulder, though, your breath stopped. Abruptly overcome, you felt like you might combust.

And just like that, you found the thing you needed.

He didn’t miss it and tested the theory by another bite at your pulse point. Your fingers curled into his bicepses, digging in as you whined and tilted your face away to give him more flesh. His sweet mouth turned ravenous, seductive kisses turned demanding. He gripped your chin and turned your lips to his once more, swallowing your gasps and whimpers.

He dragged his nails along your sides viciously as he pushed up your tank, leaving tracks and eliciting a long moan and the rise of your shoulders into his. Your core ached, your pussy throbbed, but you’d willingly drown in this foreplay, the middle energy between beginning and end. It was heady and erotic and tantalizing.

Adam’s teeth found purchase once more at the top of your breast, and he gave you more and more and more. The longer he explored you, the more fierce the bites became. At the peak of your breast, he got enough of a grip to pull it up and away from your torso, only relenting when you pushed at his chest. He flicked your sensitive nipples with his tongue until your hips bucked and twisted. He treated your ribs on both sides to the impressive span of his wide jaws and a bulldog bite. A satisfied rumble reverberated in his chest at your moans.

As with your shirt, he scraped flaring lines into your skin as he dragged down your pants; and as soon as you were completely bare, he attacked your thighs. He sucked the delicate flesh of each into his mouth good and deep.

You’d be riddled with bruises tomorrow, and it was incredibly worth it.

Gripping the sheets, you heaved for breath, staring at the ceiling but not seeing it. You’d expected filth from his lips, the sort of lewd banter you’d heard about. But this was too good for words, too animalistic. He drummed you up into a frenzy with his teeth and strong fingers. You floated on a pheromone high, watching as he pushed your leg up over his shoulder, but the way he bit and tugged on your meaty outer labia had you shot up and into your wits on a yelp.

You swore and rocked and tangled trembling fingers into his dark hair. It was the ideal amount of too much; and when he looked up from your pussy, you hissed at the salaciousness in his hazel eyes. You missed what he said because he was too many things. Mouth-watering and divinely sexy and utterly masculine. His lips grazed your wrist, sweeping words you didn’t give a damn about against the delicate flesh and easing you back down by his grip on your rib cage.

He delved into your sticky cunt, his tongue painting a wide stripe from bottom to top that had you shivering. Brazen and needy, your knees parted wide; your hips danced for his carnal kisses. Laid back for him again, he stole another harsh bite and sucked your clit until you nearly begged.

But he played you like a violin, keeping you suspended in want, not allowing you to tip over that edge.

Delirious, riding the endorphins and electricity in his fingertips, you vaguely registered that he shucked his jeans. You arched on a yearning prayer of thanks for the way he now pinned you with his weight and spread your thighs too far apart with his massive body. He undulated with you, matching the rocking of your hips because you couldn’t be still to save your life. Reaching between you, he lined himself up and surged forward to breach you with the plump head of his cock.

“Holy hell, Sackler!”

You choked, having only partially expected him to be carrying a goddamn torpedo. Amused, he licked your lips and pushed further in on languid strokes. He sunk into you maddeningly slow, drawing out pitiful whines, louder and louder until you slapped your hand over your mouth to shut yourself up.

“Uh-uh.” He tugged your hand away, pinning it down onto the bed and lacing his fingers with yours. “None of that.”

Concerned, you shook your head and chewed your own lips, but he bottomed out and you couldn’t help but swear again. 

“Fucking hell. Neighbors,” you eked out. 

The fiendish grin on his lips promised wicked things.

“Fuck the neighbors. Wanna hear you scream.”

He punctuated the last word with a mischievous snap of his hips, hardly withdrawing at all before surging back in. You felt socked in the gut. His dick stabbed at your stomach; and it wasn’t long before you did what he wanted. It burned deliciously. He fucked you all the way open and filled you completely. The wince you couldn’t hide was from both pain and pleasure. But as he knew it would, your body acclimated to him. The tension in your hips and legs eased, and you moved to accept him rather than limit the intrusion.

“Mm. That’s it. Open for me.”

He muttered things against your pulse, things lost to the whirlwind of lust. He wrapped one giant hand around the round swell of your ass, keeping you right there, right where he wanted. His rhythm kicked up, faster, deeper, and all the liquid in your body flooded south. Soon, the stab of his dick was accompanied by a vulgar squelch, an obscene sound to mark how much he affected you, how thoroughly he was wrecking you. A sound that made him switch from gripping your fingers to tangle in your hair. He held the back of your head tight to pull you down as he fucked up into you so forcefully your bed bounced against the wall.

“Fuck, that’s good.” He grunted against your jaw, lips dragging a line to yours. “Knew you’d be good, kid. Wanted to fuck you the moment I saw you.”

It was your turn to groan. You’d originally thought him talking to you in the midst of all this would feel silly. Because you knew he’d done it with so many others before; and surely, he had a script. But it lit something inside of you, something that was a little more than sex but still wildly fuckable. 

Adam’s breath broke into turbulent huffs littered with these erotic noises you didn’t think he could hold back. You clawed at his chest, trying to hold on tighter and hear them better because it was the best damn thing you ever heard. 

He tipped your face towards him with the gruff demand that you look at him. Barely, you managed it, but your eyes kept fluttering shut each time he struck gold in the deepest deep of your pussy. He said something else, but it was too much. Bravely, shockingly, you pressed your free hand over his mouth and shook your head.

“Less talk,” you pleaded, hoarse and on the edge of worn out already. “More you.”

Something savage shot through his shining eyes, turning them darker than you’d seen. He licked your palm and shifted to kneel between your thighs. Without breaking contact, he captured your legs and lay your calves on his shoulders. Your loud moans turned to raucous shrieks as he threw himself into you, roughshod and sloppy. With an iron grip on your hips, he leaned forward, tipping you into an angle that rattled you from your very core. His cock dragged against the most sensitive ridges, and you were sure you could feel his heartbeat hammer down through the shaft.

You lost your goddamn mind.

Teetering on the verge of oblivion, you froze. Arched like a bow, you fisted the sheets and quaked. Higher and higher you climbed, howling like a banshee. It was exactly what you wanted, exactly what you needed him to be tonight.

From nowhere, everywhere, his touch broke through the haze. Deft fingers wrapped around your screeching throat and squeezed. He growled, and you knew he felt your fractured breath, the pounding of your pulse, and every thrum of your battered vocal chords. It was a claim, a pure moment of primal to send you reeling.

He hung on until the end of an orgasm that shredded your senses. You could no longer shout, couldn’t open your eyes, couldn’t hear anything other than thunderous roaring in your ears. You curled towards him. Legs, arms, brow tight, the suspense before the bomb. But he slipped his fingers in between your puffy pussy lips and set off the explosion. You tingled from soles to soul, and it felt like it wouldn’t end. Inexplicably, you found some way to be louder, cursing like a damn sailor as you crested that wave. 

On the other side of it, you fell still and quiet. You yielded to the tempest, holding loosely to your tether of a man. Inside, you soared, hitting that amazing high you wanted. Flying in exactly the way you sought tonight.

Somewhere in the fuzzy exodus of your brain cells, he let go of your legs, pulled out from your quivering cunt, and shot his orgasm over the lower swell of your belly. You writhed and purred as he plied your shoulder and collarbone with kisses once more. His thumb rubbed your lower lip softly, and he nudged your nose with his the way he’d done earlier — a gesture that felt intimate and affectionate.

“Y’ok kid?”

Cracking your eyes open, you nodded and took as deep of a breath as your lungs would allow. Your body was pliant, relaxed and sated. The anxiety and tension tightening your muscles vanished, and the stress you carried for weeks was nowhere to be found. 

Exquisite.

Shifting to lie on his side, Adam tugged you closer, ready to bask in the afterglow. You had plans, though, and you wiggled up to kiss the corner of his mouth softly before sliding from the disheveled covers. Pushing a pillow under his head, he engulfed your bed nearly entirely, making it look far more appealing than it ever had before.

You almost told him it was ok to leave, but something inside said no. Besides, he looked awfully comfortable.

Naked and wobbly on your feet, covered in the evidence of your tryst, you crossed over to the little table lined up against the wall across from the bed. It was tucked almost into the corner, unnoticeable to most unless you looked for it or knew what you looked at.

Sinking to the floor in front of it, you stretched your arms above your head and tilted your head from side to side as you did whenever you settled to work. It was a ritual unto itself before the ritual. Readying your body to match your mind and heart.

Your eyes darted over the prepared ingredients, looking for the 30th time to be sure you forgot nothing. That’s when it occurred to you. Something unexpected always popped up, a curve ball the universe threw at you; and tonight was no different. Pushing to your feet, you hopped back into the kitchen for his gift. The sweet gesture he never could have expected would be so appropriate. 

When you turned to face the room, you found that Adam had slid from the bed and plopped down in front of your altar. He wasn’t touching anything, just looking, but he sat cross-legged where you needed to be. He noticed you watching him and held out his hand for you.

“C’mere.”

Cautiously, you took his hand and let him situate you between his legs, scooting you close enough to the altar to work but keeping you nestled in with his chest scraping your back. He stroked your hips, your spine, anything he could reach.

“What’re we doing?”

Your hand stalled because he said ‘we.’ You made it a rule to keep your craft private, for yourself only. You especially didn’t share the details with men because they liked to belittle things they didn’t understand. Adam, though, looked ardent in his question, and it birthed a warmth in your chest you’d not been ready for.

“I’m…” You faltered, trying to find a way to explain what was happening to someone who likely had no idea about any of this. But he nuzzled you like a puppy, and your smile led the way. “It's welcoming work.”

The way he sat up straighter, moved your hair to one side so he could see better, and leaned into you, threatened to melt you into a puddle of goo.

“I need to welcome a new city,” you said. “New job. New apartment. New opportunities and friends.”

You laid your head back against his shoulder as you talked, as though the intimacy you’d shared with him tonight had always been there.

“I’ve been waiting for the right time, and it’s a new moon tonight.” You pointed at your calendar, which tracked lunar cycles.  “Which is the time to work on beginnings, to set intentions for the future. All things begin in darkness; so, we start when the moon is darkest. And we face east,” you pointed to the wall, “because all things begin in the east.”

“What’s the sex bit?”

You beamed, feeling lighter and better than you had in a long time. You found yourself glad you didn’t hide your aim from him. You probably could have gotten away with it, but it wouldn’t feel like this. There wouldn’t be this comfort or this easiness to share.

“Sex is one of the best ways to raise energy. It gets your heart beating and your blood pumping. It's very potent.”

“You’re damn right I’m potent.” He puffed up like a peacock before smoothing out his tone into that sassy seduction. “Told you I’d spoil you.”

His boasting was alarmingly charming. You nodded along, because there was no way to disagree now that he’d disarmed and dicked you down you so thoroughly. Taking his cue to carry on, you tapped the different jars assembled around the little black bowl.

“Rosemary for protection. Lavender for calm and joy. Birch for beginnings. Hibiscus for love and passion. And now,” you plucked his flower from the corner of the table. “Carnation for strength.”

The proud way his chest expanded against your back did not go unnoticed. He was happy to have added something to the mix, even if he hadn’t done so on purpose. You grinned, patted his hand, and stage whispered ‘good job.’

Subtly, the moment changed, transmuting to quiet concentration. Adam drew little circles on your skin, falling into a serene silence while you worked. You placed a spoonful of each ingredient into the mortar. As you often did, you fell into humming a lilting song that connected you to the work. Pestle in hand, you ground it all together, concentrating on the melding of all of that intention.

You, your world, slid into tranquil. Your breathing fell into a pattern with his. The smell of sex and flowers blended beautifully. Dubious though you had been for him to sit here with you, he lent you a bolstering you couldn’t have predicted. Adam was doggedly sure of himself. He was solid, a surprising support with no measure of judgment. It was the sort of acceptance you wanted for all the parts of you, not just those people were used to seeing. Having him be that for you for this, in setting these objectives, was the last bit you didn’t know you needed.

Pouring the ground herbs onto a sheet of wax paper, you dabbed a bit of rosemary oil onto the slender green candle, making sure the column was coated. He cheekily held your bottom when you leaned forward and tipped off of his lap, suddenly concerned with ‘helping’ as you rolled the candle through the mixture. Carefully, you placed the dressed candle into its holder, being sure to not tap off any excess lest you lose that bit in the coming days.

Striking a match, you lit the wick and watched for a while as it burned. You felt seen, protected, ready. Shifting, you plucked a bay leaf from the waiting pile and wrote your planned words upon it. This was the last part, but you hesitated. Adam had been so kind, so present and willing.

“Would you like to do this part, too?” You offered a dried leaf to him. “Write what you want; and then, we burn it in the flame to send it out into the universe.”

“What I want?” His fingers made the leaf look ridiculously small, but he was gentle with it, taking care to not tear the edges. “Like a million dollars or something?”

You snorted playfully, handed him the pen, and settled against his chest. 

“Probably start with something simpler.”

You could wait however long it took him to decide. He set the leaf on the table, and you held it in place for him. It wasn’t easy to write on something so small, and you’d learned long ago to hold them down.

Abruptly, his free hand clamped over your eyes, and he jarred you to the left, still holding you but forcing you away from what he wrote.

“No peeking.”

You yipped, and you could feel him grinning like a fiend. When he finished, he helped you sit upright with both of his arms around you once more. He kissed your temple and returned to stroking your side slowly, his knuckles following the contours of your body. Holding your leaf to the flame, you watched the end catch fire and the black char consume it slowly, deliberately, as fire was wont to do. Matching suit, Adam pressed you tighter to him and lifted his leaf.

You gazed into the flame, content and not entirely paying attention; but he lingered, hovering just outside the light. Your eyes came to focus, and you saw his scrawled words. 

‘More sex magic’ on one side and ‘Be mine’ on the other, like a valentine.

Your breathing, which had become so mild and centered, hitched, which was what he waited for because, when he figured you’d seen what he wrote, he set it to the flame, igniting his own intention.

For a long moment, you basked in the feeling, the beautiful, beautiful mood. It was everything you wanted it to be without not knowing all the pieces and parts. You expected him to fuck you silly, but you had no way to know that he was supposed to be here for this. It would have felt lacking without him, though, and the realization of that fact had your hands seeking contact.

“Thank you, Adam.” You splayed your fingers at his outer thigh, comforted by how real he felt. “That was lovely. Thank you.”

He buried his face into your hair and pressed kisses to the nape of your neck.

“What do we do now?”

He shifted against you, hands turning a little more than affectionate. The stroking that was innocent at your sides turned devious at your breasts, kneading and plucking. A matching hot palm found your tender pussy and cupped it, not quite interrupting the moment but skirting dangerously close.

“We leave the candle to burn down.” 

“Hm. Think my wish is gonna come true before yours.”

You meant to laugh but gasped instead as a nip to your ear tripped a shudder down your spine. Adam’s thick fingers slid through the still slippery mess of your labia. He trapped you in this cubby made of his body while he fondled your clit, rubbing the slick nub in lazy circles.

“I do have a question, though.”

You had no idea how you were supposed to answer questions with him working your clit like that, but you still nodded for him to ask.

“If a little sex magic is good, a little more is better, yeah?”

♪ Got your spell on me, baby   You got your spell on me, baby   Yes, you got your spell on me, baby ♪

[lambourngb]

For the first line meme: It's later than he thought when the knock on the door interrupts another night of staring at the computer screen.

the heart is a muscle - post season 2, mentions of forlex , getting back together malex fic for you dear @jule1122, and @haloud, and @christchex.

It's later than he thought when the knock on the door interrupted another night of staring at the computer screen.

Mr. Jones and his last words to Michael, before he was forced back into stasis, still haunted him. “You really think there was just one ship? We were in formation, kid. What you should ask yourself is, where did everyone else go? Did they just keep zippin’ on their way to the colony? Or did they stop and take a gander at this planet and what they did to the survivors?” 

The tiny bit of hope that this Max-lookalike psychopath didn’t represent the last of his species, had Michael diving back into his research behind the crash of 1947. The online conversations about Roswell had moved on to other topics since Michael had abandoned the message boards in the wake of Caulfield, but with some effort, he had found new threads detailing neighborhood folklore regarding newcomers with eerie talents, like the ability to grow food in droughts. Stories that peppered all over the world. Stories that might mean an alien colonist on Earth.

The thirst for knowledge about his planet and his people would never leave him, even if the actual urge to go had quieted down into just a soft whisper. Life was finally good in Roswell. After the mind games of Mr. Jones, Michael could admit now that he did have a family here, even if they weren’t related by blood. Sanders, Arturo, Mimi, Michelle Valenti had all stepped in at various times to offer a guiding hand to him, or just a quiet nod of reassurance that he was valued. Max and Isobel would always be his siblings, but now he could count Liz, Rosa, Kyle, and even awkwardly in their new friendship, Maria, as extended his family now.  

It didn’t escape Michael that not even in his thoughts could he attribute his feelings for Alex as brotherly. There was still a vacant place at the head of Michael’s overflowing table of family for a partner, a spouse. That somehow, the seat even as other people came and went, only seemed to fit Alex. 

Except they were still just friends.

Another knock, more impatient this time, rattled the Airstream’s door. Michael sat up, placing his ancient laptop on the counter and rolled off his bed to get to his feet. His life was had changed so much in the last couple of years that he had enough people in it, friends, who dropped by his trailer at all hours of the day, not just Isobel, that he couldn’t even guess the identity of the visitor. 

Backlit from the auto yard’s security lights, stood Alex Manes holding a cardboard drink holder from ‘Bean Me Up’.

“Alex,” Michael greeted, a smile already at his lips. He glanced at the coffee and back to Alex, “Couldn’t wait until tomorrow I take it?” This was part of the new normal for Michael, meeting Alex for coffee, three or four mornings a week. It was something that had grown out of a happy coincidence, Alex’s gym was near the Boys and Girls Club that Michael volunteered at, serving breakfast in the mornings and tutoring kids in math in the afternoon.

Same place at the same time, once, then twice, became a standard thing. Not a date. Just, taking advantage of the mutual collision to talk. And at first, it was awkward to share news with each other, like Alex’s dating experiences with Forrest or Michael’s attempts to recover his memories of his planet, but later things had softened into a routine. Order coffee, find a small table, and then spend the next hour playfully fending off Alex’s attempts to foist food on Michael’s side of the table while also stealing sips of his caramel lattes. 

Perhaps one day Alex would realize that Michael had only ordered the ridiculously sweet coffee drinks because he knew that was what Alex preferred to drink. It was still a damn toxic hold over from Jesse Manes that Alex still persisted in ordering black coffee with no sugar. Dating Forrest might have helped Alex be open with his sexuality, there were still lessons for Alex to learn in being gentle with himself, Michael observed. The act of indulging in pleasures, instead of engaging in deprivation, it was something he struggled with as well.

In the meantime, Michael could at least help Alex in this small way, letting him ‘steal’ his lattes.

“Alex?” Something about Michael had robbed Alex of all speech as he just stared up at Michael in response, still holding the drinks dumbly in his hands. “Are you okay? What’s wrong-”

The switch from teasing to urgent concern finally snapped Alex out of his apparent stupor. “Right, nothing, um, just- since when do you wear glasses?”

Michael’s hand went to his face automatically, realizing belatedly that he was still wearing his reading glasses. He started to pull them off, blushing in embarrassment, when Alex blurted out, “They look good! On you. The glasses. Um great even.” 

“Oh.” Now that. Michael did not know what to do with that. 

In the yellow-wash of light, Alex was clearly the same man from yesterday’s coffee visit physically. His soft mouth was there, but it came with his standard closed expression that he must have picked up abroad, wearing it now as Michael’s least favorite souvenir. His posture was the same too, forever changed from losing his leg, straight-backed and rigid but just then, he was someone Michael hadn’t seen in a long time. That awkward stuttering response was Alex Manes, the seventeen-year-old boy who had whipped off his visor nervously in the museum, the same boy who touched with soft gliding palms newly revealed skin before snatching his hands away at the first sign that it was unwelcome. 

Aware that it was his turn to stare at Alex, Michael forced himself to smile naturally, “I guess not even my alien physiology can beat back the glare of a computer screen. I forgot I had them on.”

“Did I interrupt something? I can go if you want,” Alex stopped, probably hearing the past echo between them but not in the benign way of before. “Or I can stay and help, even if it’s with surprise coffee?” This time he lifted the tray up between them, an offer or a barricade of politeness, Michael wasn’t sure.

“I’m looking for other survivors,” Michael admitted, before looking down to avoid Alex’s sharpened gaze of interest. “On the internet, obviously, since I don’t think I can trust that I could sense them with my mind.”

It was clear that Alex hadn’t forgotten any of the various tactics Jones had employed against them, but Michael in particular. A frequent repeated taunt was about how damaged their psychic abilities were for adults, to the point no one had sensed Caulfield, but that from his pod prison Jones could hear Nora calling for help nightly right until the end. The twisted knife of how Michael had grown up waiting for someone to save him. Alex pursed his lips to object, “Michael-”

“Jones was full of shit about a lot,” Michael assured him quickly, “but I think he was right about the ships, that it wasn’t just one that crashed. I’m just combing through stories, basically internet mythology, looking for clues about strangers who might have some sort of power. It’s a lot of ‘world’s biggest cucumber’ stories right now, but hey, come in, you’re the computer genius and I could use your help and your coffee.” He placed his hands on the coffee holder, carrying it for Alex and backed away from the steps to let Alex have as much room as possible to navigate the cumbersome metal steps into the Airstream.

The seating area of the Airstream had been folded away and stored in order to make room for the drying rack of his clothes from laundry day, leaving only his narrow bed for seating. Michael had half-a-minute’s pause in reconsideration. They could relocate outside to his fire pit with the cheap camp chairs, and sit pressed together elbow-to-elbow around the dim screen of the laptop between them. Or. Or they could squeeze together on his bed, a place where that sort of contact between them had always led to sex. What was the safer option for their friendship? 

His heart always strayed too far from the safety of his bones when it came to Alex. 

Ignoring his pounding pulse, he grabbed the coffee cup marked “Alex” and pulled it to his lips to drink and made a gesture to the bed. At least he had made the bed up earlier with clean linens, the spread was neatly tucked into the corners, almost military sharp. That made it feel slightly less risqué to him than inviting Alex into warm mussed sheets that reeked of Michael’s skin. That rain and bourbon scent that Alex had pointed out.

“Um, your coffee was the other one.” Alex picked up the abandoned cup marked with a ‘M’ and followed him over to the bed. 

“No, I’m drinking the coffee I always end up with. Your black tar juice.” 

Alex smiled slightly, caught out by the observation before gingerly sitting next to Michael as Michael scooted over toward the wall of the Airstream. “Yeah, I guess I do end up stealing yours.” He brought his left leg up easily on the mattress and then passed his coffee cup over to Michael’s waiting hands as he brought his prosthetic up with both hands for balance. The smile faded, as Alex reclaimed the ‘M’ cup to sip from deep in thought as he seemed to review the history of their morning encounters. “I’m sorry-”

“Alex, come on,” he teased leaning his shoulder against Alex’s. “You haven’t caught on by now? I only order that sugar monstrosity because I know you won’t let yourself do it. I don’t even like caramel that much.”

“What? Come on, that’s what you ordered that first time-”

“I ordered that for the director at the community center.” Michael placed his coffee on the window of the Airstream and concentrated on bringing the laptop back up to rest on his knees between them not daring to look at Alex. He would never be able to confess the next bit and see Alex’s too-expressive gaze at the same time. But. As he had reminded himself earlier, he needed to work on indulging in pleasures as well, not just holding on to the pylon weight of depriving himself, of never believing he was worthy of good things. And being Alex’s friend was that. A pleasure. A good thing. The best thing.

“Once I saw you though, I kinda forgot the errand I was on in the first place. Then, I might have gone back at the same time the next day. And the day after that. For reasons.” He glanced to the side, meeting Alex’s wide eyes briefly before turning back to the laptop. “So I guess it's my turn to apologize? I might have had an agenda.”

It was quiet between them, as Michael clicked through a few different forums. He wasn’t paying any attention to where his cursor landed, he just kept scrolling through window after window as a distraction because the urge to pull back, to crack a joke, to do anything but let Alex process in silence was hard to suppress but needed. That was a part of becoming friends, learning that Alex needed extra time to formulate a response, something that came from needing to shut all emotional responses off during a drone operation at work.

“Me too,” Alex replied softly. “About the agenda. I mean, I don’t even have a membership at that gym.”

Michael frowned, the words not making any sense to him.

“That first time was dumb luck, I mean, I stopped in that morning because I had stayed the night at Forrest’s for the first time and I found out he doesn’t drink coffee. Doesn’t even own a coffee maker.” Alex scoffed quietly, before leaning against Michael affectionately, “I should have known that it was doomed from the start, just on coffee alone but what really put the nail in the coffin was the fact I pretended to go to that gym for two months because I had a bag of clothes with me when you saw me.”

“That was your clothes from staying over with him,” Michael said slowly, almost to himself, before he frowned even deeper as the connections fell into place. He didn’t know whether he wanted to laugh or not, but this was a new level of avoidance of an awkward subject for Alex.  It did make sense considering the timing, and maybe that was why he was confessing now to Michael because not that Michael allowed himself to show it, the early days of Alex’s relationship with the historian were difficult for him. He didn’t begrudge Alex being happy or being with someone else, but there was still an old, gnarled bit of Michael’s heart that pinched painfully at seeing the romance play out for everyone in Roswell to see. “Alex, I know you guys are dating, you didn’t have to lie about that and pretend you had gone to that gym.” 

“Were dating,” Alex patiently corrected. “Pay attention, Michael. I just said it was doomed from the start.”

“Because he didn’t drink coffee?”

“Because I was engaging in a deep cover operation that involved a fake gym membership, rescheduling my appointments to the afternoon and blocking out time in my mornings all, so I could see you.” The gears were still turning too slowly for Alex’s liking as he rolled his eyes at Michael and continued, “I ended it with Forrest about a month ago. Or well, he ended it with me because I was always too busy in the morning for breakfast and I never wanted to stay over at his.”

Michael blinked, then looked down at his laptop. The ancient fan and processor were making a soft whine of effort, much like his own brain at the moment. Alex was single. Alex has been single for over a month. A month where he didn’t mention it once during their get-togethers. 

Alex exhaled slowly, draining the latte before placing the cup out of range. “I’m really trying to use my words here, but you have exactly one minute to understand what I’m saying before I have to get creative-”

“Are you saying that you-”

“Yes-”

“Still want me?”

“I never stopped,” Alex reached for Michael’s hand, stilling the rapid clicking. “I came here because I wanted to be honest with you. It occurred to me that somewhere along the line, those meetups for coffee had basically become the most important part of my day. I … I was turning them into dates in my head. With you.” He licked his lips, his eyes drifting down to Michael’s mouth, causing Michael to bite his own lip in response. The anticipation between them thickened, until Alex groaned softly, his head briefly ducking toward Michael’s. “In the past, I’ve been guilty of thinking we were on the same page, and we weren’t, so I’m- Michael, I will still be your friend no matter what, but I want-”

This time, Michael didn’t let him finish and closed the scant distance between them on the bed to kiss Alex. The laptop fell to the side of their legs as Alex surged into it, pushing Michael down flat on the mattress in his eagerness. Michael opened for Alex, letting him have whatever he wanted and buried his fingers in the soft, black hair as they traded kisses.

Suddenly, a bubble of laughter burst from Michael’s chest, the lightness of the situation that felt almost too good to be real spread through his veins. “Oh my god, you brought me coffee to tell me that getting coffee together wasn’t just getting coffee for you, Alex-”

“Shut up!”

“You need a new job, nothing in intel, sweetheart-”

“I am, I did, that is.” Alex lifted his eyebrow at Michael’s too-still pause before he sweetly brushed the long stubborn curl out of Michael’s face, “Done with the Air Force as of next month.”

“Fuck me.”

“I can do that too.”

[girls-in-bikiniiss]

Tucked

You down your drink once more, kissing the ice as it clinks against the short glass.  You just got dumped by a pro hero—aka your high school sweetheart. You never made it pro, but you knew how to run a damn good agency. You met him after running into him after UA's school festival. He was bandaged up after being seen by the nurse. You remember turning the corner and both of you colliding into each other. After that, it was history. Even though the two of you were in separate classes, you were inseparable. It was like that until your third year and then he grew distant. His need to become the best hero overriding his love for you. You stayed with him, supporting him and accepting not being his number one anymore, but his happiness was too important. You never expected your downfall two more years down the road. Now here you are, twenty years old and sipping bourbon in a dimly lit bar, mascara smudged under your eyes from a fresh breakup.

~Earlier that day~ >Girl, you need to get back out there! He's trash!

You loved your best friend, you really did, but you knew she didn’t like how your ex had been treating you for the past two years. She was in your class and saw your entire relationship blossom.

>But I still love him...

>You're in love with a wannabe. He's not even a hero.

>He has an agency.

>mhm...

>Look, the best way to get over someone is to get under a new one. Who knows, maybe he'll hear about it and get jealous~

>I don't think that's a good idea -.-

>Look...I didn't want to tell you, but I heard he's been flirting with this hero at his agency (◞‸◟) >I'm telling you. Go get dressed up, go to a bar, and find someone mysterious and sexy.

You stopped responding to your friend and cradled your head in your hands. He's been flirting with someone else?? You wiped a tear away and made up your mind. Now you're sitting at the bar in a tight black dress feeling completely foolish for listening to your friend.

Until a man came and sat next to you at the crowed bar.

Wearing a leather trench coat, a tall and lanky man walked in, ordering a glass of whiskey. You watch him here and there, how he picks up his glass oh-so-carefully with four fingers, his pinky out. How refined.

"Will you need a refill, miss?" The bartender asked. You nod and look at the news on the silent TV  behind the counter. HIS face appeared on the screen in an interview and you groan. "Stupid super hero..." you mumble to yourself, earning a snicker from the man next to you.

"That sounded like disdain to me." His voice was raspy yet full of intrigue.

"That 'hero' is my ex boyfriend." Bitterness dripped between your teeth as you took another sip of your drink.

A flash of disgust showed through a quick sneer on the man's face.

"Tell me about it." You sigh, continuing on, "Who, just dumped me, mind you. Broke my heart without blinking." You look back to the TV, barely a murmur, "Instead of taking care of society all the time, why didn't you take care of those who loved you?"

"Yes, why don't hero's protect the ones they love over society?" The man mused. "In fact, why do heroes get to use their quirks and violence for the 'greater good' of society? Who determines that?"

You took a sip, listening to his nihilistic speech. "We once lived without superheroes on the streets. Superheroes have just created broken families, whether the realize it or not. But do they get reprimanded? No! They're praised by the same SHEEP who get broken apart."

You felt a nerve hit. You always hoped for a family with your ex, yet his desire to be the best superhero broke that dream apart. You felt this man's anger. "You know? I feel that." You slurred your words with pain emerging. "Why does society rely on heroes so much? Like, to the point where they wouldn't know what to do without them. We used to live without heroes. We used to not have quirks. I hate how much we rely on them. They can't even have their own family and be there for them. That stupid hero," you pointed at the screen, "just broke my idea of family apart because he wanted to get ahead in his career. How messed up is that? Being forced to choose between love or a career?"

"Stupid girl," he muttered, not reaching your ears, "He wasn't forced. He decided to have his ego stroked by fans. That's the issue on hand."

You took a look at the man next to you. Blue hair, ruby eyes, the cutest mole by his lip. He had bags under his eyes, but so did you from all the crying. You had never met someone so outspoken about their disdain of the superhero society. It was refreshing.

The best way to get over a man is to get under one, right?

"The name is Y/N Y/L/N."  You offered your glass to clink against his.

"...Tenko."

The evening grew late while you and Tenko slandered the hero's name. "I haven't laughed this hard in a long time. Thank you. I really needed this." The liquid courage had run its course through your body and you were starting to sober up, but still feeling the effects. Tenko gave you a grin. He always loved meeting people scorned by heroes, their rose colored glasses fallen off. It made it that much easier to destroy the faith in a hero's society.

"I should get going. Oh shoot. I don't have money for a cab." You muttered to yourself as you rummaged your purse.

"Let me walk you home."

You looked at his face, scanning for anything sinister, but he seemed genuine. You nodded and paid the tab. You steadied yourself as you stood, only to have your eyes meet his collar bone.

This man was tall. You look up to see him smugly looking down at you, aware of the height difference. Yet his politeness charmed you to feel safe.

Out on the street your heels clicked against the asphalt, Tenko walking next to you quietly. "I appreciate you walking me home. I know I shouldn't have drank that much tonight; especially when I went alone. I didn't think about the walk home. Who knows what lurks in the shadows?" You rub the back of your neck.

Tenko chuckled while looking at his red high tops as he walked. Hands shoved in his pockets, he looked as if he could melt into the shadows himself. In fact, if you had not met him earlier, and saw him walking toward you, you were sure you'd feel frightened. But somehow, walking with him you felt safe, like no one was going to come up and mess with you.

You reached the door of your apartment and turned to him. "Well, home sweet home..." The best way to get over someone was by getting under a new one. Your friend's words rang in your head. "Would you like to come in? Maybe for one more drink?" Tenko looked at the building and then to the door, reading the number and smiled. "You have a nice night, Y/N." You shrug your shoulders and bid the handsome man goodnight.

You change out of your dress into the short nightgown and wash your face. Flipping the duvet over, you crawl into bed and get comfortable to scroll through your phone. A knock echos through your apartment. Who could that be? A mental image of your ex pops into your head but you do your best to waft that bubble cloud away. Getting out of bed you open the door a crack to see the blue haired man. "Tenko?" You opened the door wider. "On second thought, I'll take that drink."

A dark shade of lust covered his ruby eyes as he walked through the door, pushing you back. As if stalking his prey, Tenko neared you slowly all the way across the room. You felt your calf hit the back of your bed and you had to catch yourself before falling. A smirk reached his lips, looking like flustering you was exactly what he wanted.

His figure towered over you, reaching down to brush delicate fingers across your cheek. His hair covering his eyes as he dipped down to break your personal space. A tight knot in your stomach formed as he neared, his warm breath made your eyes flutter as his lips grazed your cheek. He ran a finger up and down your arm, his other arm beginning to snake around your waist, pulling you closer.

"Could your hero boyfriend make you feel like this?" he whispered in your ear.

A gasp reached your lips, and as soon as he heard it, he pushed you down against the white comforter on your bed, kissing your neck down to your shoulder.

You heard your phone ping, breaking you out of the trance. Looking to your phone on your pillow and back, Tenko had vanished. Confusion washed over your foggy mind.

He wasn't there.

A frustrated sigh steamed out and you buried your face in your pillow. At least you could keep this tucked away inside the back of your head.

[makbarnes]

Hey I was wondering if I could request a one shot. It mentions some heavy topics so I would like to apologize in advance in case it bothers you.

Loki x reader where they’re newly budding friends and he finds out that she has never really indulged in sex due to trauma from being sexually assaulted when she was younger. Knowing that she trusts him, he offers to sleep with her to help her overcome her fear and she accepts it. Can the smut be slow and passionate and include soft dom Loki, with a romantic ending?

Change of Plans! I discussed changing the character for her request! This is for @yeeetmyasss Steve X Reader

A/N: I hope you enjoy! Warning there is a little cut scene where it flashes back to the reader's past but doesn't describe anything. BTW this really got away from me! I enjoyed writing this so much!

PROMPT: Steve x reader where they’re newly budding friends and he finds out that she has never really indulged in sex due to trauma from being sexually assaulted when she was younger. Knowing that she trusts him, he offers to sleep with her to help her overcome her fear and she accepts it. Can the smut be slow and passionate and include soft dom Steve, with a romantic ending

WORD COUNT: Over 4K

You carefully slipped on your jacket in hopes it would cover enough of your skin for you to be comfortable. Your hair helped cover your neck and yet you still felt exposed. You felt the cold air on your legs and you could feel the tears brimming your eyes. You held back your tears as you grabbed your things and headed for the elevator in the Tower. You smiled to push the feelings down as you walked, Waving at Sam and Bucky you headed straight for the kitchen to grab a sip of water before leaving. As you leaned against the counter your fingers gripped the marble and you couldn’t help but sink into your thoughts. Your eyes flashed a deep blue as your memories took over.

Night after Night, You dreaded the night. It happens every night and you keep trying to prevent it. Hiding, acting like you were asleep, even faking sick, nothing stopped him. You had moved in with a close member of your family after your parents had divorced and the state concluded it was unfit to live with any of them. Every night was the same thing, he’d come in sometime after he had a few drinks, you could always smell it on his breath. Knob Creek Bourbon Even to this day that certain kind just sent shivers down your spine. You never wear your hair up to sleep anymore, It would give him access to more skin at night. You always tried to wear thick clothing and you still do every night when you sleep. It started off small, a grope or a kiss that lasted a bit too long, then it came to him covering your mouth, forcing himself onto you. You cried each time and you were thankful for the night you didn’t have to see him. You lost count over the years, You just felt numb...The night of your thirteenth birthday you fought back, ran off and found yourself running into HYDRA. After the years of abuse and silence you agreed to their experiments that ended up giving you powers, HYDRA set you loose after they searched your mind and found the trauma. They released you and you set forth to kill your trauma at the source. You started with your parents then your uncle. He laughed in your face as you choked him with your powers, He fell limp and you set the trailer on fire in hopes it would burn the memories as well. After that night you had turned yourself into the Avengers and they added you to the team.

“Angel?” Steve held himself back from touching you knowing what happened last time he did. He heard your sniffles and decided to lean against the counter next to you. Your knuckles were tight and you felt locked in your fears. “{Y/N}? Hey, it’s Steve, I’m right here. It’s okay.” You gasped as your mind came back to you and saw Steve standing next to you with worried eyes.

“Sorry.”

“Nothin’ to be sorry for.” You gave him a quaint smile before turning away and trying to clean your face of tears. “You goin somewhere?”

“I have a date.”

“A-a Date?! Oh...w-with who?” Steve stumbled over his words as he mentally cursed himself for his reaction.

“Don’t act so surprised, Old Man. I can pull a guy.”

“I know you can, Angel. Just surprised.”

“Don’t go gettin’ jealous on me now.” You nudged his shoulder as you sent him a wink and took your phone from your small bag. “I’m texting you my location. Just to be safe.”

“Or you could just not go. Stay with me and watch a movie.” Steve suggested quietly and you held the blush away from your cheeks. You kissed Steve’s cheek bye as you texted the boy you were supposed to meet. Steve had felt jealous as you walked away. He loved you and wanted you so badly but you never acted that way towards him. He thought he was like a brother in your mind so he pushed it down and took what he could get. Just your presence calmed him. He had started calling you when he had a nightmare or trouble sleeping and waited for you to invite him to your room to talk. The first time he snuck up on you while you were sleeping he instantly regretted it when you slammed him into the wall. Steve understood and didn’t as when you had reacted that way, some people liked their privacy. Unknowingly to him you liked him just as much as he did you. The touching was rare but when it did happen it was enveloping. The late night cuddles when you each had fallen asleep as you watched a movie, relaxing against each other after hard missions full of fighting. Everything about the man made you feel safe.

Your breath hitched when you spotted your date at the bar. You were never against drinking, you were just scared around men who couldn’t hold their alcohol. That was an issue you never had to worry about with Steve. Each time you talked with someone they had blown their chances before you even set a date with them. You were partially grateful for that fact, you were just waiting for Steve to ask you out. You hoped for it, you even dreamt about it most nights. You pushed Steve to the back of your mind as you plastered a bright smile over your face and approached your date.

“Hey Brandon?”

“Hey! God you are hotter than your pictures.”

“Uhm, thanks. Did you wanna grab a table?”

“I’d rather sit here at the bar, if that’s okay.”

“Perfectly fine.” You slid into the empty seat next to him and ordered a club soda. Something to just take the edge off but to keep you lucid incase. You noticed Brandon’s eyes roaming over your body and you felt a bit exposed as he did. “So, How was your day?”

“Boring, I’m hoping to spice it up tonight.” He reached his hand for your thigh and you quickly moved it away from his reach. You cleared your throat and hoped he would turn off the douchebag side of him. Brandon downed the rest of his drink and you rolled your eyes as his actions.

“What do you like to do?"

“Fuckin’ pretty ladies. Wanna get out of here?”

“Ugh! Yea, I'm leaving." You slammed your glass down as you stood and started to walk out of the restaurant.

“Woah! Where are you goin’?!” Brandon jerked his hand out to grab your wrist and pull you back to your seat. You stumbled but thankfully caught yourself against your chair.

“I’m going home! Let go of me!”

“No, I think you are gonna sit here and make this worth my time.”

“No the fuck I won’t” You slung his hand off of your wrist and slapped him hard across the face.

“You dumb bitch!”

“You fucking douchebag.” You easily left the restaurant and hailed a taxi to take you back to the Tower. You brushed away the few tears you had and held off your panic attack until you knew you were safe. You slammed the taxi door and stomped into the building. Tapping your foot in anger the elevator seemed to take forever, you prayed for the main room to be empty and for everyone to be doing their own things on a Friday Night. You grabbed your phone and deleted the dating app you had set up. All the guys in there just wanted one thing. You wanted to build a relationship not just fuck and leave. You tucked your phone away and groaned while the elevator opened. You kicked off your heels and ignored everyone in the main room as you went to your room. You quickly changed out of your uncomfortable dress and slipped on your joggers with one of Steve’s sweatshirts. You smiled as his scent covered you and felt safe again. You tucked your knees into your chest as you sat on your bed. Your mind ran over your thoughts and you compelled your thumb to hover over his contact in your phone. Steve would always be there.

Your breath quickened and tears started streaking down your face. You held your knees tightly and tucked your nose against the collar of Steve’s shirt. He knew you had it, He had given it to you after a night full of PTSD terrors and bloodshot eyes because you were too scared to fall asleep. You ran your finger through your hair and you pulled, trying to keep yourself grounded. Your eyes panned to the door. If you could make it a few feet. Steve was right across the hall. Just a few steps. You willed yourself to stand but felt your legs shaking, breaking out to a full sob you reached for your small clutch and pressed the green call button next to his already open contact. You just stayed silent, your sniffles echoing back from the rings as you waited for him to answer.

“Hey! Are you okay? Do I need to pick you up?” Steve’s protective tone shined through the phone and you held your mouth open to speak but it just came out as a whimper. “I need you to tell me where you are.”

“I-I…”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y locate {Y/F/N}.”

“{Y/F/N} is in her room, Captain.” The only thing you could hear were heavy footsteps echoing over the phone and you kept pushing the tears away with the sleeves of his sweater. You jerked when you heard a knock and tried to speak.

“It’s Steve, I’m coming in okay?” You nodded silently, knowing he couldn’t see you. You needed him. The only touch you ever welcomed was Steve. As he easily opened the door you sat balled on the floor with your face covered with tears. “Angel. What happened?” You shook your head no repeatedly as he sat beside you on the floor. “You don’t have to talk about it. It’s okay.” Without warning you climbed into his lap and snuggled against his broad chest. His hand rubbed up your spine while you stained his shirt with tears. Your shoulders began trembling while his warmth enveloped you, Steve pressed his lips against your head and let you cling onto him.

“Why can’t all guys be like you?” You looked up at him with tears filled eyes and sniffled.

“I’m Captain America sweets. Nobody is like me.” Steve’s thumb gently wiped away your tears. “What happened?”

“Just a douchebag only wanting sex and no relationship.”

“He doesn’t know what he’s missing then.” Steve ran his fingers over your hair as both of your movements grew still. You felt a pit of nervousness growing when your panic settled and you realized you were in his lap. Clearing your throat as you stood up Steve followed quickly and offered his hand out to you. “Since you’re home, wanna watch a movie with me now?” His bright smile was hard to say no to but you wanted to stay in your room. Your eyes darted between his hand and your bed while you tried to decide. “Wait here.” Steve rushed out of your room as you sat on your bed.

He quickly came back with four movie cases and his bowl full of popcorn with two boxes of your favorite candy. “Movie night in your room then. Need me to get anything else?”

“How did you get my candy so fast?”

“I have a secret stash in my room for you. For nights like this.”

“You are going to have to show me this stash.” You blushed as he climbed into your bed next to you. Tucking yourself against the wall the first movie started and Steve kept his distance. He placed the popcorn bowl between the both of you while he sat relaxed against your headboard. You tucked your feet under the blanket as your fingers pinched at your candy pieces. Steve tried to keep his attention to the move but kept finding himself watching you with a small smile on your face and your eyes glistening against the bright colors from the screen. You noticed his staring and set down your candy. Moving the bowl onto his lap you inched closer and laid directly next to him.

“Now stop staring.”

“I wasn’t”

“You were. I saw you.”

“Prove it.” Steve smirked as he took a few pieces of popcorn. You both stayed silent for a moment and you felt yourself messing with the sleeve on his sweater.

“Thank you Steve.”

“For what?”

“Cheering me up. You always know what to do.”

“How can I not? You're my girl. No thanks needed.”

“I’m not your girl Steve. I’m your best friend.”

“What if you were my girl?” Steve locked eyes with you as a blush creeped onto your face.

“W-what?”

“What if you were my girl, Angel?”

“Steve, you don’t want me as yours, too much shit to deal with.”

“That’s not true {Y/N}, I’ve always wanted you to be mine. Why do you think I never go on the dates Nat sets up? I’m always checking on you, I’m always worried about you. But you never seemed to want that so I just never pushed, but I’m tired of you going on dates and coming back hurt because they just want that one thing. I don’t want this to ruin our friendship but I want you, I’ve always wanted you since you joined.” Steve reached out to brush the hair away from your face but you jerked away from him. “Hey, I’m sorry Angel. I’ll just go okay? Don’t worry about it…” Steve’s voice dropped in sadness as he quickly ran into his room with a slam of his door. You still sat shocked on your bed at what he just said.

“Steve Rogers, Captain America wants you...You?! A trauma filled, scared of sex, timid girl like you?! And you sat there silent, let him think you crushed his dreams! Maybe he’s confused, Maybe he doesn’t want you. Just a thing to be conquered. No, it’s Steve. He would never. Shit I’m still wearing his shirt. God what did I do?”

You knocked yourself out of the trance and moved after Steve. You chewed your lip as you knocked on his door and your breath hitched when it opened.

“Who is - oh. Hi.”

“Can I come in?” Steve opened his door wider for you to slip inside and you stood there awkwardly as he shut the door again. “Look {Y/N} I’m sorry. I just can’t take it anymore. It’s fine if you just see me as a friend and we can stay that way.” His eyes pleaded with you.

“Steve.”

“Please {Y/N} Please just forget what I said.”

“Steve.”

“God I’m so stupid.”

“STEVE! Let me talk. I-I like you too. I always have, it's just I have an issue with my feelings.”

“What?”

“I love you Steve. You are my best friend and can always cheer me up. You even have a stash with my favorite candy. How can I not love you?” Steve closed the distance between you two and held your hands in his large ones.

“Can I? Uhm. Can I kiss you?” You smiled while you leaned your head up to feel his soft gentle lips against your own. You wanted to melt but kept your walls up, Steve cradled your head as he pulled back and smiled. “I’ve always wanted to do that.” He huffed out a heavy breath and you felt a lump in your throat, you had to tell him before it got too far.

“Can I talk to you about something?”

“Whatever you want, Angel. Sit down.” You sucked in a heavy breath as you sat down on Steve’s bed and played with his fingers that laid in your lap. “Before this gets too far. You uhm, you need to know that while I am not totally against it, I am terrified of having sex. It’s nothing against you. It's just. I, uhm, didn’t have the best childhood and I was...abused...a lot.” You held your tears away, not wanting to cry anymore tonight.

“Angel, I don’t care about that.”

“Of course you do. Everyone does! Even I do. But I just really need to trust someone and they have to understand that I just can’t.”

“If it makes you feel any better I haven’t had sex in over seventy years.” “Yea but if the time came you could do it better than me.”

“What if I uhm I help?”

“What?”

“Have you ever had someone make love to you? Not just fuck?”

“Language Captain.”

“I’m serious. Do you trust me?” You nodded your head as Steve drew himself closer to you until he was almost sitting on your lap. “Can you lay down for me?”

“Okay.”

“I want you to tell me to stop if you need me to okay?”

“Okay.” Your breath hitched as Steve moved to lay next to you and turned you on your side to face him. His hand laid over your shoulder while he slowly guided your lips to his own. Your lips intertwined and you felt his hand trail under his sweater to glide over your skin. He pulled your body against his own before coming back up to cup your face. Steve teased your mouth with his tongue and you opened for him to taste you. A stifled moan flowed into Steve’s mouth from your own while he guided your hands to flow under his shirt. You pulled back to catch your breath while you pushed your fingers over his abs and bit your lip with every curve of his skin.

“You are so beautiful baby.” Steve’s eyes moved over your body before he took his shirt off and you pulled him hungrily to your lips. “Can we take this off?” He fiddled with the bottom of his sweater that covered you. You nodded while he slowly slipped it off of your body. “You okay?”

“Yes. Kiss me more.” Steve obeyed while he gently rubbed your skin and guided your hand up to the bottom of his hairline. Steve’s hand held your hip slightly and you felt his hard member press against you. Your breath hitched and he pulled back away from you checking your face. “I’m okay. Sorry.”

“C’mere.” He pulled you against him and let your nails play over his back while he peppered kisses over your jawline. His nose tickled against your skin, his mouth was hot and welcoming while he toyed with your skin. “So sweet.”

“More please Steve.” Your legs wrapped around his waist while he sucked a mark to the top of your breast. “Shit.”

“Like that Angel?”

“Mhm..” Your nose was tucked against his hair while his lips moved down your body and he paused when he reached your pants. “{Y/N}, Can I take these off?”

“Yours too?” Steve stood up and removed his sweats before pulling your own down softly with a kiss over every inch of exposed skin that followed. You could see him in his boxers and pushed down the gulp in your throat. You let out a shaky breath and hoped Steve didn’t notice.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I promise.”

“I don’t believe you.” Steve grabbed his blanket and laid down next to you resting the situation. He covered your bodies with the blanket and scooted you against him. “What’s wrong?”

“Just nervous, please don’t stop.” Steve moved your leg to hook over his waist and pushed your back to grind over him. “Just look right at me baby.” He gave you a small peck while he reached around and unhooked your bra. Steve sucked in a tight breath as your chest was revealed and his hand toyed with one of your breasts.

“Feels good.” He licked his lips before trailing his tongue down to circle over your nipple having your back arch against him. He teased the other with a pinch and you rolled to your back. Opening your legs wider Steve held his hips tightly against you with small ruts while he had his fun on your chest. You gripped one of his wrists and moved it down to play over your underwear. Moaning at his touch you arched into him and let your eyes roll back into your head. Steve rolled his tongue down your stomach and pressed a few kisses against your hip while he pressed his fingers against your clothed clit.

“I’m gonna take these off okay?” “Please. Yes.” Your voice was at a pleasurable sigh and Steve loved how you looked to him in this moment. He trailed his tongue down to your slit and massaged your legs to open again.

“God, You’re dripping Angel. This all for me?”

“Only you Steve.” He let an guttural growl loose from his throat while he dipped his tongue through your folds. “Oh! Yes!”

“Taste so sweet Darling.” His tongue cleaned up your slick before he teased your opening with his tongue. His thumb came up to rub small circles on your clit as he began to fuck your hole gently. Steve pulled down one of your hands to play in his hair while the other was linked with his free one at your side. You pushed your hips up against his face to earn more pleasure and Steve let you control his movements. Your moans filled his room and you only wanted more. Steve switched his fingers with his tongue and you gasped as they curled inside of you. Steve pressed kisses against your thighs while he looked up to watch your breasts rising and falling with your pleasure. You gripped his hand tighter with every rise of pleasure, Steve was your only thought and you gripped for him. He adjusted his thumb to take his tongue’s place on your clit as he rose up to rest his forehead onto your own. “Feel good Angel?” “So good. Oh god! Right there. Don’t stop.” Steve tucked your face against his shoulder while he focused his hand and felt your walls tense over his fingers. Steve hovered over you a bit as he cleaned you off of his fingers and your pupils blew as you watched him. You urged your hips towards him and felt a pit open in your stomach with that little laugh he did. Steve kissed you harder this time while he guided your hands to link around his neck, you gasped against his chest as he coated himself in your finish before slowly pushing into you. The sting was coated with pleasure once he filled you to the hilt of him and stayed there for you to adjust to him. Your nails gripped into his skin and his hand held your thigh in place while he balanced himself over you with his arm next to your head. He watched your eyes close and kissed you forcefully with his ruts.

“Look at me baby.” You moved your chin down for your eyes to lock with his crystal blue ones and your breath left your body. “I love you so much, god you are so beautiful.” The coil tightened with every word he spoke. “God I’m so lucky. Such an Angel.” You pulled his chest flush against your own and tucked your face into his neck. Your thighs trembled a bit when you felt his teeth sink into your neck and suck.

“Fuck Steve. Feels so good. So close.”

“I know baby. Just let it happen, Don’t worry about me.”

“Faster. Please.”

“Sure?”

“Mhm, Please.” Your lips pressed against his clavicle and you gripped his shoulders as he picked up his pace, your eyes flitted up to him and he was chasing his own release now. He grunted quietly with every thrust and your legs felt weak as he did so. Your orgasm had ripped through you but kept rising with Steve’s thrusts. Your legs twitched when Steve’s fingers found your clit again and began working them in time. He hovered over your face and pulled your lips to his as he stopped his thrusts and filled you with his finish while his fingers kept pushing you over your limit. You gasped against the sheets as a gush of your finish coated his abs and he watched you with wide eyes.

“Oh my god, Did I!?” “That’s my new favorite thing about you Angel.” Steve quickly moved to grab a rag and cleaned his abs before slowly wiping over you and grabbing a clean pair of underwear for you.

“How many of my things do you have Steve?”

“Everything my Angel needs.” He kissed your forehead as he climbed in his bed with you and you tucked your nose against him. “Are you mine forever now?”

“Forever.”

[ladyreapermc]

Fic: Rules of Engagement Chapter 2

Summary: Henry and Em have been friends for almost ten years and involved in a casual affair for just as long. The rules were simple: no romantic attachment and their friends and family couldn’t know. Easy enough to do right? However, when new complications emerge, Henry and Em will need to navigate this relationship of theirs, if they can even call it that.  Chapter 1 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 04  | Chapter 5  | Chapter 06

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC (Emeline)

Wordcount: 4,5K

Warnings: some fluff and a tiny bit of angst

Author’s notes: I want to thank all the comments I got on the first chapter. I didn’t expect this series to get so much recognition. Thank you! Here’s chapter 02. I do hope you all enjoy it and once again I would love to read your feedback.

Chapter 02 - What are the odds?

As soon as Henry stepped out the car in front of the church, he couldn’t help but let his gaze wander, looking for Em. It was almost second nature to him by now, whenever he would meet their friends, his eyes instinctively looked for her.

This time they landed on Todd first, standing outside and holding his baby girl Sophie in his arms. Henry could already feel the smile tugging on his lips as he made his way over, adjusting his button-down and blazer in the process. Last time he had seen the girl, she had just been born, only a week before he had to travel and start shooting The Witcher, but Todd and Clara made sure to keep him updated with pictures of his future goddaughter.

“My God, mate! you’re huge!” Todd commented voice full of awe and Henry chuckled, too distracted by the baby in his friend’s arms.

There was a huge pink bow on top of her brown curly hair and her eyes were bright blue and staring at Henry as he made a couple of silly faces until he got a bubbly giggle.

“What are they doing to you?”

“You don’t want to know. Sorry, I’m late. My flight was delayed.”

“You’re not all that late. Em had wardrobe trouble and Clara is giving her a hand,” Todd said, chuckling as Henry offered his hands up to the toddler, and to his surprise, Sophie actually reached for him, asking to be taken and Henry smirked. “She’s 6 months and already under your charms,” Todd clicked his tongue, handing over the girl.

It was no secret that Henry loved children and children loved Henry. Not only that, but he was also actually good with them. Maybe it was all the nephews and nieces, maybe it was just his natural gift, but kids tended to be in his best behavior with him.

Someone’s got a booboo? Call uncle Henry to kiss it better. Crying fit over a stolen toy or a no? Uncle Henry will hold them until they feel better. Don’t want to sleep? Uncle Henry will tell stories and even do all the voices. Sugar high and need to tire them out? Uncle Henry is on the job with a good dose of Kal…

Henry truly didn’t mind being only a call away for his family and friends. Being the last-minute babysitter whenever he was in town and having a chance of spoiling them rotten. He loved being Uncle Henry but he just couldn’t wait for the day he would be the dad.

First, he needed to find a good partner but so far, his relationships had crashed and burned, some more epically than others. And Henry wasn’t getting any younger. He would hate to be one of those fathers that had their first kid in their fifties, but he was slowly approaching his forties and had yet to meet the woman he wanted to have that kind of commitment with.

Shaking himself out of those thoughts that would lead nowhere, Henry followed Todd to a sideway entrance of the church so they could go in without making much of a fuss. It seemed almost fate that just as they stepped inside, a small hidden door opened and both Clara and Em stepped out.

For a second, Henry just stared, because Em looked so beautiful in that form-fitting soft pink dress, her dark hair falling in elegant waves over her shoulders. He didn’t even notice the sigh he let out or the small snort that came from Todd.

Henry wasn’t in the habit of lying to himself, but he made an exception when it came to this because Em might be the only woman he ever really felt like he could have a long-term relationship with. They just clicked in every aspect.

She was funny and goofy, unafraid of giving him hell whenever he was getting a big head. She could be almost brutally honest at times, but Henry had become quite good at calling her out on it with just one look. Em never failed to make him laugh, and he knew that, aside from Clara, he was the only that got her to completely loosen up. And, of course, he couldn’t forget, that the sex was amazing.

Henry was still dreaming about their last encounter last month, the feel of her without any barriers, and how much trust she laid on him to even suggest such a thing. He loved her even more for it and if only she would stop being so stubborn and accept that she loved him too and that they were perfect together, Henry wouldn’t have this problem. Because he knew Em wanted kids too.

They had this conversation one drunken night about a year ago. She had just broken up with her latest boyfriend, for reasons he couldn’t remember, and came over with a bottle of bourbon ready to drown her sorrows.

It was a cool spring night and they lied in his garden watching the night sky and passing the bottle back and forth, complaining about life and love and everything in between. Kal lodged between them, snoring loudly and making them both fall in a fit of giggles every once in a while.

“Ok, confession time…” Em said, turning sideways to look at him. The way she squinted her eyes to see him made Henry laugh. “I miss the kingstache.” She traced the smooth skin of his upper lip and Henry grinned wide.

“You?” he asked in disbelief. “The one that mocked me the most? That called it a porn mustache?”

“Yes, alright?” she pouted at him knocking against Kal, alcohol impairing her coordination. The dog looked up startled and confused before slipping away from between them. “I miss it. It felt good, especially…”

“Especially what?” Henry asked, turning sideways too and now they were so close he could smell the whiskey in her breath; their noses almost bumping against one another.

“The feel of it whenever you were eating me out,” Em confessed, lip tucked between her teeth as they stared at each other. “And only you could rock a mustache like that, ok?”

“I love how honest you get when we put some alcohol in you,” he chuckled, pressing a kiss to her lips.

It was supposed to be just a soft peck but Em fisted his hoodie, holding him still while she explored his mouth in a sloppy kiss and Henry felt his body responding to it. The heat spreading, the stirring in his trousers but he pulled away and gave her a stern look.

“We shouldn’t. we’re drunk and nursing breakups…” he warned but she cut him off with another kiss. This one lasted longer, especially as she pressed her entire body against his, one hand coming to scratch his scalp just like Henry loved it and he moaned into the kiss.

“That’s why it’s perfect,” she mumbled. “We can fuck it out of our systems and move on… I don’t want the next guy to be a rebound.”

“Oh, but I can be? That’s lovely.” He arched an eyebrow, hurt and offended. She sat up and rolled her eyes.

“Like I wasn’t a rebound after most of your girlfriends, Hen? You know what? Forget it. I’m leaving.” Em got up in unsteady feet and Henry was by her side in a flash, helping to keep her upright. She could never hold her liquor all that well.

“You’re too drunk. Just stay here. I can get the guest room ready if you’re that pissed at me.”

“I’m not…” she sighed, resting again his chest, but looking away from him. “I really thought Alex was…”

“Really? I always knew he was a wanker.”

Henry felt the warm huff of her laugh against the exposed skin of his throat before she finally looked up at him, chin resting on his sternum, her big and warm brown eyes glassy, lids lowered, her cheeks flushed from alcohol. It was a beautiful sight and he loved how much shorter Em was; how she fitted in his embrace like she belonged there. Henry pushed the thought aside as he guided her inside and up the stairs.

“He was jealous of you, you know?” she flopped on the bed and let Henry take off her jeans, sweater, and bra. “I think he guessed that we have sex on occasion.”

Henry only hummed in reply, picking up one of his old shirts and helping her to put it on. It fit her almost like a dress, hanging almost at her knees, the neckline loose and slipping over her shoulder. He shouldn’t think it was this cute, but he couldn’t help himself. He bent closer, kissing her softly and Em sighed against his lips.

“I’m gonna grab some aspirin for you, please don’t hurl on my floor.”

She gave him a clumsy punch on the shoulder that Henry barely felt, and he chuckled all the way to the kitchen. He wished he could tell Em that he was glad Alex wasn’t the one and that he would like her to see Henry might be. They’ve been doing this for 8 years now and it was probably the longest relationship he had with anyone. If you could call periodically hooking up with a good friend a relationship.

He got back to the room and Em was already asleep, head buried on his pillow and Henry felt bad for waking her up but if she didn’t take anything right now, it would be worst in the morning. For both of them. He shook her lightly and she blinked blearily at him, but still accepting the pill he put in her hand and the sip of water he offered.

“Thanks, Hen. I love you,” she slurred, and Henry chuckled, setting the glass aside while he took off his clothes.

Em would always blurt that out when she was this drunk and it always warmed his heart, giving him hope until the bright light of the day came and he realized that no matter how many times she would say it, Em would still fight this pull between them.

“You’re welcome, love.”

He crawled in bed with her and Em immediately settled against him, tugging on his arm until Henry was spooning her, holding her tight. She was such a cuddler and he loved it. He loved to fall asleep with his nose buried in her head, inhaling the scent of sugar and spice that clung to her. He loved the feel of her warm skin and the soft snores that she never admitted she let out or the way she clung to his hand until she fell asleep.

It was sweet torture to have her like this, knowing that when morning came, Em would be out the door, both of them going their separate ways. But at least for those blissful hours, in the darkness of the night, Henry could pretend otherwise.  

For a while, there was only silence and Henry thought she had fallen asleep again. He was almost drifting off himself when she spoke again.

“You will be the perfect partner for some lucky lady out there,” she whispered, her voice surprisingly coherent considering how drunk she was. “And a great dad.”

“Thanks, Em,” Henry smiled and kissed her temple.

“I’m terrified of having kids,” Em confessed quietly, turning in his arms so they could look at each other in the darkness. “I mean, I didn’t have the greatest role model for a family.”

Henry pushed some hairs away from her face, looking at the big doe eyes staring at him with a glimmer of wetness. He knew her mom left when she was very young and her dad was… well, interesting.

“Do you want to?” he asked, thumb caressing her jaw. “Have kids, I mean?” she nodded, a flitting smile sneaking into her face.

“Yeah, two,” she said softly. “Because I hated being an only child. Good thing I had Clara. How about you?”

“I always thought at least three,” he replied, smiling too. “I want my house full, just like I had growing up.”

“At least?” she cocked an eyebrow at him, and Henry chuckled and shrugged. “I guess that sounds good too, maybe a little chaotic… I mean, how would that work with you and your wife working full time?”

“I would take some time off, of course…” Henry said, lying on his back, one arm around her, the other bent beneath his head. “I’m doing pretty well financially, and I could afford to spend some time off-screen or maybe take smaller roles, local productions…”

“You really thought this out, huh?” Em asked head tilted his way and Henry nodded. He lost count how many times he envisioned this scenario, the only thing that usually changed was the face he pictured for the woman in his life. “You would turn the guest room into a nursery?”

“At first, yeah, but I definitely would want a bigger place,” he said, drawing patterns on her arm. “A little farther away from the city, with a nice kitchen and a big master bedroom. A garden so Kal can run around and the kids could have a playground, maybe even a treehouse…”

“That sounds nice, I’d like that,” she mumbled, her eyes fluttering close, her breath evening out. With one last smile, Henry kissed her brow and let himself drift off too.

That conversation had stayed with him for way longer than it should. Em didn’t remember any of it of course, but Henry did because it seeded something in his heart that he had to work hard to ignore whenever they were together.

Henry guessed it could be seen as a small blessing that their hookups weren’t happened all that often anymore, even if they were both single. He also couldn’t help but notice that when they did end up together, Em seemed to fight the pull that existed between them until she finally relented and fell in bed with him. It made him wonder what changed. Why she felt like they couldn’t have this anymore.

“Henry! You’re here!” Clara greeted him with a kiss on the cheek before she looked down at her daughter comfortably settled on his arms. “And you already charmed Sophie, I see.” She looked at Todd with a grin. “You owe me a tenner.”

Todd rolled his eyes, taking the girl from Henry so they could walk into the church with their daughter, while Henry and Em took their places at the altar, side by side and he gave her a sideways glance to have a better look at her.

“You look nice.”

“You too,” she smiled at him. Her soft, glossy lips looked so tempting that Henry had to discreetly shift his stance to adjust himself.

“What was wrong with your dress?” His gaze lingered on the generous neckline that gave a very nice view of her cleavage. “Looks really good. Especially your tits. They look bigger somehow.”

“Henry!” Em hissed sharply with a glare, but he could see she was fighting off a smile. “But you might actually be right because I busted a seam under my arm and Clara had to sew it back together.”

Before Henry could comment on anything else, the ceremony started and they returned to their best behavior. Todd and Clara brought Sophie forward, handing the girl to Henry and Em so she could be baptized and they were named her godparents.

It was hardly a surprise for them that the couple had invited them, especially because Henry had Todd as a fifth brother and he knew Em viewed Clara as a sister, but they were both honored by the invitation.

Once the ceremony was over, everyone started to head to Todd and Clara’s place for the celebration. Henry was about to ask Em for a ride since he had taken a taxi but froze when he saw her heading to a car with a guy he didn’t know.

“Hey Todd,” he caught his friend who was on his way to say goodbye to a few guests that wouldn’t be able to make to the party. “Who’s that?”

“That’s Jack,” Todd said, following Henry’s gaze, catching sight of Em chatting with the blonde man. “He’s a friend of Clara’s. He and Em met a couple of months ago.”

“They’re dating?” Henry asked with a frown and uncomfortable burn in his stomach, like acid reflux. He had to swallow hard against the urge to puke.

“I don’t know,” Todd shrugged. “But they seemed to have hit off pretty well.”

As if on cue, Em’s laugh rang loud and bright as Jack held the door open so she could slide inside, and Henry had to clench his jaw to stop himself from cursing. From the look on Todd’s face, his friend noticed.

“Need a ride?” he asked, pulling Henry’s attention back him. “My brother is heading off right now.”

“Yes, thanks.”

Henry tried to push the thoughts of Em and the Jack bloke aside, pay at least a little bit of attention to whatever Todd’s brother was droning on and on, but it seemed to be an impossible task. Fortunately, the younger man didn’t seem to need his interaction to make conversation, so Henry just hummed occasionally, looking out the window. He wondered why Em didn’t mention Jack at all last time they saw each other.

Sure, it was a quick visit, but they did talk a lot before they ended up in bed together. It would have been nice to know in advance that she was dating. Was she dating? Em didn’t strike him as the kind of woman that would hook up with someone else if she was seeing another but maybe that was why she was so reluctant to sleep with him last few times?

Before Henry could reach any conclusion, they arrived and he thanked Todd’s brother for the ride before letting his gaze wander through the small gathering of people, locating Em. She was unsurprisingly surveying the cake and pastries since her bakery provided every single treat offered at this party.

Henry didn’t taste anything yet, but he knew they were delicious. Em had a unique talent for baking and it was no wonder her store was becoming more and more popular. He knew part of it was her perfectionism. Even though her team worked with her for years now and knew exactly how she would plan tables and displays, she still needed to survey everything, making sure it was up to her standards.

He took a step in her direction, but before he could go any further, Clara called his name and caught his arm in a soft but firm grip, giving the guest she was talking to a small smile of apology before tugging him to the side.

“Just the man I wanted to see,” she smiled and for a relatively small woman, she could be very intimidating. It was something to do with her piercing blue eyes that always seemed to see right through him. “Have you met Jack?”

“Not really,” he replied in surprise and confusion. Sometimes it felt like Clara could read his mind or something.

“Let me introduce you to him, then,” Clara said, pulling him along and Henry didn’t have in him to protest. He was after all curious about the man. “And please, be nice and make an effort to like him.”

“What does it matter if I like him or not?”

Clara turned to face Henry, her eyes narrowed as she stared him down, and weirdly enough, Henry felt like shrinking into himself at the weight of her stare. No wonder she was such an amazing prosecutor. That one stare was enough to make him want to confess all his crimes.

“So, you don’t know?”

“Know what?” Henry asked. This was one of the most cryptic conversations he had ever had, and he had to do interviews about DCEU without giving any spoilers. Clara heaved a sigh, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You’re Em’s judge.”

“Sorry, I’m what?”

“Em’s judge. For a man’s character. If you don’t like a man she’s seeing or interested in, she’ll dump their arse like a hot potato. You never noticed?”

“No! Clara, that’s… insane! I have no saying in who Em dates.” Henry huffed an awkward breath as he watched his friend. She could not be serious, but from the way she was looking at him, he knew she met every word.

“We both know you don’t have to say anything.” Clara rolled her eyes at him. “Honestly, I’m surprised that Alex lasted as long as he did considering your face turned sour everything time he was around. It was like you had shit stuck under your nose. But regardless if you believe it or not, could you make an effort with Jack? I really think he could be great for Em.”

“Fine!” Henry sighed just wanting to get out of this conversation. “But not right now. I haven’t eaten in six hours and I’m starting to get dizzy.”

“Thank you!” She flashed him a bright smile. “Head to the kitchen and grab something. Brunch will still be a while.” She came to her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek before walking away before Henry could even process what was happening.

Henry stood there for a few moments like gaping fish, still trying to wrap his head around the entire conversation but giving up because when it came to Clara, she was lightyears ahead of them on some things. He might as well do what he was told and get a snack before he passed out.

To Henry’s surprise, when he got to the kitchen, he found Em at the sink, finishing up a sandwich that she handed him as soon as he stepped closer.

“What’s this?”

“Toasted wheat bread, no crust, turkey slices, and that tasteless cheese you actually like. Honey mustard, but no mayo,” she said, leaning against the counter and giving him a smile when Henry’s stomach rumbled. “I figured you didn’t have time to grab a bite to eat at the airport...”

“I didn’t. Thanks,” he grinned at her, taking a bite and groaning loudly, making Em chuckle.

“Settle down, Cavill. It’s not that good,” she joked, popping a piece of turkey on her mouth, but grimacing. “Urgh, this taste like cardboard.”

“You’re ok?” he frowned at Em.

“Yeah, just feeling a little queasy all morning,” she replied. “But I have to eat something or my blood sugar gonna plummet.”

Abandoning his sandwich for a second, Henry moved closer to her, resting the back of his hand against her forehead and then neck, frowning lightly.

“You are a little hot.”

“Thanks,” she flashed him a cheeky smile that made Henry chuckle.

“You know what I mean.” He cupped her cheek and it was a testament of how bad she much be feeling if Em was actually letting her guard down and allowing this small intimate moment in a place anyone could walk in on them. “You might be coming down with something.”

“Fuck! I hope not. This is one of my busiest months,” she let out a long exhale, and maybe it was just Henry’s wishful thinking, but he thought Em might have stepped closer, almost leaning into him and all he wanted was to take her in his arms and hold her.

“Am I interrupting?” Clara cleared his throat, making them both jump and turn to stare at her guiltily as she looked at them with a knowing smirk.

Henry wondered why she seemed to be everywhere. He knew it was this sort of gift every great hostess had but it could be very annoying when all he wanted was some privacy with Em.

“No,” Em recovered first, stepping away from Henry. “I’m just not feeling well, and Henry was checking up on me.”

Clara just hummed, coming closer and mimicking Henry’s actions, her brow drawing into a frown.

“I don’t think you have a fever, but you’re a little hot. Maybe it’s just that time of the month?” she asked, giving Henry a sideways glance.

“No, I had my period…” Em trailed off with a thoughtful frown as if she couldn’t exactly recall and Clara chuckled.

“You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d joke you’re pregnant,” Clara teased with a smile. “I mean, the bloating and nausea and all that? Anyway, just lie down for a while. You’re probably just overworked.”

Once again, Clara was gone like a quick whirlwind, leaving Henry and Em to stare at each other in shock. He knew his eyes were wide and he was stunned into silence. Em just looked like a deer caught in headlights.

“No!” she snapped once Henry recovered enough to try to say something. “Don’t even think it, Henry. It was once and I have an IUD. It can’t be.”

“You’re right,” he agreed quickly, but his heart was still thundering in his chest, his hands sweaty and he could barely breathe, terror and excitement mingled together in his chest, but he didn’t dare to voice it. Not when Em looked like she was about to throw up.

“Clara’s right. I’m just tired,” she sounded like she was trying to convince herself, not Henry. “I just need a good night of sleep. That’s all. So, we’re not gonna talk about this, because it’s impossible. What are the odds of actually happening?”

Less than 1 percent, Henry found out later, once he was at home and couldn’t sleep, still thinking about the entire thing. He googled it to calm his nerves, surprised by the hint of disappointment he felt at learning it was next to impossible. It wasn’t enough to stop him from thinking and wondering, though.

Enough so that when he heard the sound of his doorbell, Henry nearly jumped out of his skin. It was a noise he practically had forgotten about since Kal would always announce newcomers way before they could ring it. But Kal was back in Budapest. It didn’t make sense to bring him over when Henry would only be staying a day.

Henry glanced at his clock, frowning at the late hour as he made his way downstairs and pulled his door open. Em pushed her way inside, her face tearstained and a mask of fury as she threw something his way. Henry caught by reflex, before staring at her in confusion.

“I hate you, Cavill! I fucking hate you!” she declared, sniffling and hugging herself.

“Em, what…?” he didn’t get to finish his question, because she gestured at the object he was still holding. Henry finally looked down, eyes widening when he realized it was a pregnancy test. One of those pharmacy types and it was positive.

“I did five of them. All positive,” she said, rubbing her face dry and glaring at him. “Damn you and your fucking Superman sperm!”

Henry stared at her wordless, still clinging to the white stick in his hand.

“What are we gonna do?”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t know how.

chapter 01                                     x(tbc)x                                           chapter 03

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[stayextrafrosty]

I’m Dying for a Taste of You

Summary: Alex Manes is a vampire hunter tasked with hunting down rogues who kill humans. His next target is Michael Guerin. Known to sometimes over-indulge at the blood balls and was placed at the most recent scene by witnesses. But this might be more than Alex bargained for. Top Michael. Bottom Alex. Alex POV. PLEASE READ WARNINGS

A/N: I just wanted an excuse to have the two of them flirt while a weapon is pressed between them. Because reasons. I’ve left this open for continuation but I want to finish my other AU before starting a whole new one. There are the beginnings of a plot but this truly is just porn. Cute ending though.

Warnings: Please be aware that the kinks featured in here get intense. Light masochism, biting, blood drinking, overstimulation, marking/claiming, Dom/sub, Predator/prey, possessive behavior. There are some soft moments but it is very much a rough and dirty sex fest. Read at your own discretion.

Read on AO3 // Masterlist

-

Alex was no stranger to the smell of blood but this place made even him want to gag. Scantily clad men and women wandered around shamelessly, blood dripping from various wounds on their body. More power to them he supposed but how anyone could enjoy being sucked within an inch of their life by a vampire was beyond him.

Blood balls were the equivalent of drug dens. Except these were technically legal. Alex looked back at the police officers positioned at the doors and around the room. No one was supposed to die here but someone clearly missed that memo.

He knew he was overdressed. As a donor at least. He wanted to cover as much of his skin as possible without drawing suspicion. He didn’t need his target sniffing him out before he had time to take the shot. Not to mention he needed to keep his gun concealed. There was also a retractable knife slid into the side of his boot.

He looked down into his glass, the whiskey inside colored red from the lights surrounding him. He hadn’t seen his target yet. Then again, maybe he was already here, back in one of the private rooms drinking and being sucked off by his next victim.

“Hey there. You must be new,” a sweet, feminine voice said. He looked up as the young woman sat across from him. Her corset pushed her boobs up in a way he was sure drove any straight or bi man crazy. Long blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Tall, slender. She was beautiful. Or at least she was until he noticed the blood dribbling from the side of her lips.

“Sorry. I’m just observing today,” he said shyly, hoping it would get her to go away.

“Oh honey. Careful with that one. Remember where you are.” How could he forget. Her nails tapped on the table a couple times before she grinned at him, flashing her fangs. She made her way around the table to stand in front of him.

“Just a tip, the best way to know if you’re into this or not, is to jump right in. I’d be happy to go easy on you. Or, if I’m not your type… I know some sweet guys who would treat you right.”

His shoulders tensed. Not that this was a place where he should be nervous about being gay. Most vampires didn’t seem to care one way or another. The woman leaned in close, the smell of her perfume covering the blood pretty well.

“I also recommend leaving that gun tucked away,” she teased. His eyes darted around the room, checking to see if anyone heard her. But if she noticed, chances are the others did too. Was his cover blown before he even started the mission?

“Maybe you can help me then.” She raised an eyebrow. “I’m looking for a rogue vampire. He’s been killing women he takes home from this place.”  She hummed and looked around.

“Does this vampire have a name or are you throwing around baseless claims, hunter.” Her voice was still sweet but there was an edge now. The nails on her fingers could almost certainly rip his throat out before he had time to react.

“The suspect is named Michael Guerin. Do you know him?” She barked out a laugh.

“You must be delusional. Michael wouldn’t hurt anyone. In fact, no one at this club does that kind of thing. If they do, we dispose of them ourselves.” He was taken aback. The woman played with the edge of her corset.

“I recommend you get out of here. You won’t find what you’re looking for,” she said, crossing her arms. He clenched his fists and stood slowly.

“I’m sorry for disturbing you.”

He turned and ran into a hard chest that didn’t budge. He gazed into golden brown eyes. A sharp jaw and a scruff that clearly hadn’t been shaved in days. A crown of curls sat atop his head and a lazy grin sat on his lips.

His shirt had the sleeves rolled up and buttons left undone. There was an unmistakable red stain covering the shirt. His slacks hung low, button and zipper left open. Alex wanted to drool at the sight. He mentally scolded himself. There was nothing attractive about a vampire.

“Someone looking for me?” His voice warmed Alex in places he knew it shouldn’t have. This was his target. “Should we go to my private room? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable on your first time,” he said, shamelessly looking Alex up and down. His cheeks warmed and he couldn’t think of anything to say.

“Careful there brother. He’s a hunter,” the woman said.

“Thanks Izzy. I got this. I think that beautiful girl I saw you flirting with earlier is waiting.” Alex assumed she left. He couldn’t take his eyes of Michael. He must be using a charm of some sort. It was the only explanation. He was a professional damnit.

Alex shook his head and broke eye contact with him. Not all vampires could control minds that way but it was better safe than sorry.

“Please. Follow me,” Michael said, turning away from him. Alex’s head jerked up to watch him go. He shouldn’t follow. It was safer surrounded by people. But he was inviting him to be in close quarters, making it easier to kill him.

The two of them walked away from the slow throbbing music. They passed a couple. A man leaned over another, licking up the blood that had run down the other’s chest. The man being fed on was clearly into it. Their moans were vulgar and Alex turned away from them. How could anyone just do that in front of others?

Michael led him to a door, even going as far as to open it for him. He wanted to reach for his gun but pulling to early would compromise the mission. He had to wait until his guard was down. Vampires enter an intoxicated like state after feeding. That was his opening. If he had to spill a bit of blood to complete the mission then he would.

The door led to a long hall with several doors lining the walls all the way down. Michael walked down about halfway before stopping in front of another door. It had his name scrawled on a golden plaque.

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to give me your gun mister hunter. I’m sure you can understand why. I’d hate to have to kill you before we get a chance to talk so best to just comply.” Alex met his stare for a brief moment before reaching inside his leather jacket to the holster for his gun.

He handed it over cautiously, praying that he didn’t just shoot him. Then again, Michael liked to drain his victims. There was never a single drop of spilled blood on the scene. Michael smiled and stepped inside the room. Alex followed him in and looked around.

The lighting in here was more normal though it still had a red tint. A loveseat sat to the side and a bed in the middle of the room, headboard pressed against a wall. Alex didn’t know what to do. The bed was too intimate. The loveseat reminded him too much of a casting couch from porn.

Michael fiddled with glasses at a small bar filled with various hard liquor and wine. He set the gun down next to an open bottle of bourbon. He must have been pretty confident to think that Alex couldn’t get it back from there.

“Well don’t just stand there. The bed and couch are cleaned between visitors.” Michael handed him a glass. He wasn’t going to drink it.

“I just have some questions for you. It wont take long,” he said.

“The first thing you say to me is a promise that I won’t get to enjoy this for long? Tell me, do you like to torture men?” Alex rolled his eyes but as hard as he tried, his flirting was getting to him.

“I just want to know if you’ve seen this girl,” he pulled the folded photo from his pocket and handed it to Michael. He looked at it for a moment and then shook his head.

“Can’t say that I have. Then again I don’t keep track of every person that comes here. And some guests opt to wear masks if you hadn’t noticed.” He had noticed. Which made this even harder. But this man had to be the killer. He was placed at multiple scenes by witnesses.

“How often do you leave with your food for the night,” he said, letting his disgust sneak through.

“Oh, I see. I’m a suspect.” Michael let out a heavy sigh, not seeming bothered by his comment in the slightest. He seemed more disappointed than defensive.

“Just answer the question,” Alex ordered. Michael’s nose twitched. He was moving into dangerous territory. This man could easily kill him if he wasn’t prepared. He shouldn’t be trying to piss him off but he couldn’t stop himself.

“For your information. We have rules.” He stepped closer. “We don’t leave with the donors. They all leave first.” Another step. “And we stay behind.” He was just a few inches away. “It’s also frowned upon to seek out donors outside of blood balls.” Alex’s breath hitched in his throat as he leaned in. Michael cursed under his breath and let out a heavy sigh. The tips of his fangs reflected the light.

“I don’t think you know how good you smell,” he muttered. Alex felt his cheeks flush. He tried backing up but his legs hit the loveseat, making him stumble back on it instead. Michael hovered over him, placing his hands on either side of his head. Alex couldn’t sink any farther into the couch.

Michael placed a knee between his legs on the couch, leaning into him. His eyes showed hunger and lust. Alex tried to squash down his own excitement. It was fucked up. He shouldn’t be feeling this way. He should be repulsed. But his body just wouldn’t listen.

Not wanting to ruin his jacket (at least that’s what he told himself) he shrugged it off and tossed it to the side. His heart raced when Michael groaned and ran his tongue over his teeth.

“I knew you liked teasing. I promise to be gentle.” Alex gripped the couch as his head moved to the crook of his neck. He tried to stay still but he wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around him and pull him closer. Michael’s breath tickled his neck. “You can ask me to stop,” he said, voice shaking with need.

He wanted to. He didn’t want to.

This man was a murderer and he needed to end this before he was the next victim. Alex stamped down his desire and shoved Michael back. He wished he could have appreciated the surprise on his face longer.

He grabbed the knife in his boot, flicking the blade open. He tackled the vampire to the ground, straddling his hips, knife pressed to his neck. Michael just laughed and watched him.

“Now that you have me like this what exactly do you intend to do?”

“You will die here. You didn’t show mercy to those girls and I refuse to show mercy to you!” He pressed the blade into his skin, drawing a line of blood. This was it. All he had to do was pull and he would die. At least long enough to put a bullet in his head.

So why did he fucking hesitate?

“One second too long hunter.”

He was flung back. Or rather carried by Michael. His back hit the wall, knocking the air from his lungs. His hand wrapped firmly around his neck. Michael snarled at him, fangs on full display for Alex to see. He twisted the knife from his grip.

“Kill me if you want! There’ll just be more,” Alex threatened. Michael traced the point of the knife down Alex’s face, never pressing hard enough to draw blood. He shook his head.

“I don’t want to kill you. It would be a waste of a beautiful face.” he responded. His eyes flicked down. “Your body is far better suited for pleasure.” He knew he was blushing. What was this game they were playing? He dragged the knife over his neck and down his chest. His muscles tensed and he hated the way his cock responded. This had to be a spell.

“You don’t know shit about me! It’s not real pleasure if you have to put someone under a spell.” Michael’s eye twitched with annoyance. He pulled the knife away and released his grip on his throat.

What the hell?

“I don’t use that shit. It’s better if they actually want it.” He paused and shook his head. “I didn’t hurt those girls either. But you’re going to believe what you want.”

Michael turned away from him and moved back to where he had set the gun down. He picked it up after retracting the blade of the knife. He walked back to stand in front of Alex, holding out both weapons in front of him.

“Just leave hunter.” He took the gun and knife from him, wide eyed. They never taught them what to do when the vampire gives the weapons back. Especially not with a face that looked so crushed. Michael was back to pouring himself another drink

“Alex,” he found himself saying. Michael’s head turned slightly.

“What?”

“My name is Alex. So you can stop calling me ‘Hunter.’”

“Why tell me? We’re never going to see each other again,” he said with a humorless laugh.

“Well that would be a shame,” Alex joked back without thinking.

He wanted to eat his words. For a second he forgot he was dealing with a vampire. He didn’t want to flirt with him. But the way the muscles in his back flexed at his words made it hard to regret. He watched his hands grip the bar, knuckles turning white.

“Leave Alex. Or I might do something you don’t want.”

Alex should leave. He knows it. But that look was so lost. So broken. And so familiar. He’d seen that look on himself in the mirror. He dropped his weapons on the couch, watching Michael’s shoulders jump at the sudden noise.

He took slow cautious steps toward the vampire, watching his breathing grow more erratic with every step.

“Please, don’t come any closer,” he begged. Alex stopped. He was close enough to touch him but didn’t want to upset him further. “I told you that you smelled good. That was an extreme understatement.” Alex stood there quietly for a moment, heart racing.

“What do I smell like,” he asked quietly. Michael let out a strained whine.

“Like fucking heaven. Vanilla, leather, alcohol and about a million other things. I can hear your heart racing you know. I’m scared that if I were to taste you, it would never be enough.” Alex swallowed.

“Why?” Michael spun around and stepped into his personal space, their noses nearly touching. His fangs were fully extended

“Because I can tell. You’re blood would be like top shelf drugs. There’s other vamps out there that can smell you and are pissed they can’t have you. Don’t let any vampire have you, understand? Claiming would be inevitable.”

He had only heard the most basic information about a vampires claim. They usually did it with another vampire but sometimes they would claim a human. It was the equivalent of marriage. He didn’t know much about the actual process.

“I understand.”

Michael stepped back again, running his hands over his face, probably trying to make his fangs go away. Alex knew that wasn’t easy. Once they had been pushed that far, it was either feed or starve until you can distract yourself from it. Like an even worse form of blue balls.

The thing was. If Alex left right now, Michael would go back out there and find some other donor to satisfy him. The thought made him clench his fists. Why was he jealous? It wasn’t like Michael was his. He didn’t want anyone to drink his blood. Even if it was someone as beautiful as Michael.

Alex turned away from him to grab his jacket and weapons. They would never see each other again after tonight. He would keep looking into the deaths of the girls. But he knew for certain it wasn’t Michael. He picked up his jacket and held it on his arm. He looked down at the knife. Then the gun. Then the knife again. He dropped his jacket.

He picked up the blade and flicked it open.

Am I really going to do this?

Yes. He was. He pressed the blade to the pad of his hand. He sliced.

The knife was flung out of his hand and he was pressed against the wall once again. Michael’s eyes were filled with fury and hunger. Heat shot straight down to his groin.

“What the fuck are you doing? I just said—”

“Drink.” Blood dripped down his arm. Michael’s eyes were wide and desperate.

“Alex,” he groaned.

He pushed his hand closer to his face. Michael just turned away. Fighting every natural instinct he should have. Alex pulled his hand back, pressing his own mouth to his wound. His blood was warm and tasted coppery. Though he knew it would be different for Michael.

Michael gasped like he was in pain. Maybe he was. Either way he didn’t hold Alex down hard enough to restrict his movements. He lifted his non-bleeding hand to turn Michael toward him again. Their eyes met briefly. Alex leaned in slowly, wanting to give him the option to back out.

The blood on his lips should have repulsed him. Yet he was finding that none of this was repulsing if it was Michael. Their mouths pressed together. Michael tried to keep his tongue from licking at the blood on his mouth but it was no use.

A shudder ran through Michael. Then he was yanking Alex flush against him, tongue driving past his lips to taste his own. Alex whimpered as his fangs grazed over his bottom lip. Suddenly he was laying on the bed, Michael positioned between his legs and hovering over him.

“I’m sorry,” he said desperately. He leaned to lick up the blood that had dripped and Alex’s hips rolled of their own accord. Michael groaned, pressing his hips against Alex in return.

Michael sealed his mouth over the cut, tongue running over the shallow wound and sucking gently. His teeth scraped but never pierced skin. Alex pushed his shirt off one shoulder and Michael yanked his arm out and the other followed. He tossed it somewhere in the room and moaned when Alex ran his hand over his torso.

He watched Michael in awe. It looked like he was kissing his hand. It was beautiful.

After a minute or so, Michael pulled away, a drop of blood still on his lips. Alex leaned up to kiss him again, wrapping an arm around his neck. His hands found the hem of his t-shirt and pulled up. They broke apart to toss it away as well.

Their skin moved against one another so easily, like they were made for this. For each other.

Michael broke the kiss again, resting his forehead against Alex’s. His teeth still hadn’t retracted. Alex, stroked his face softly. Then he turned his head to the side, exposing his neck.

“Fuck Alex. I said don’t let anyone have you. That includes me,” he said, tracing his fingers over his pulse point. His mouth may as well have been watering.

“But you need it don’t you?” Alex glanced back at him, angling his head further, encouraging him. Michael pressed his mouth against his neck, licking slowly. He kissed and sucked but never bit him. Alex rolled his hips again.

“I can find another donor. I won’t hurt you,” Michael pleaded. His voice was strained. It was taking everything he had to resist. A stab of pain in his heart. He shoved Michael back and grabbed his face, forcing him to meet his eyes.

“I don’t want you to find another donor.” His eyes flashed red, bloodlust taking over him. Alex leaned in close, pressing a hard, fast kiss to his mouth. He wasn’t afraid. This beast could kill him but he wasn’t afraid. He dragged his lips down Michael’s jaw and neck until he got to his pulse point. Then he bit.

Alex was yanked fully onto the bed, arms pinned above him. He couldn’t move even if he wanted to. Pure power rolled off Michael in waves. Alex knew the dangers of triggering bloodlust but he did it anyway. He wanted it more than anything. Wanted Michael to just take what he needed. But he knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, Michael wouldn’t hurt him either.

“You want this, Hunter? Fine. But we do it my way.” He laughed, burying his face against his neck, teeth scratching gently. Alex’s jeans were too tight and he wanted nothing more than to have them ripped off of him. Literally. “Never thought I’d see the day a hunter would beg for it like this,” he teased.

“Shut up and kiss me before I change my mind,” he ordered. Michael just shook his head, leaning close.

“Bossy, bossy.” He kissed him again. All the vampires he had interacted with until now had been almost cool to the touch. But Michael… he was as warm as Alex. Maybe it was the bloodlust or the desire but fuck if he didn’t love it.

He dug his nails into his back, pulling him in. Other guys he had been with hadn’t been into that but vampires were different. They lived for the pain. Or rather, as he was learning, the line between pain and pleasure.

Michael moaned and nipped at his bottom lip. This time though, he let his fang catch, letting a drop of blood form before licking it away. His body shuddered at the taste. Alex didn’t know how he could be turned on but if he went to hell for the things he was feeling right now, then it would all be worth it.

Michael released his arms, dragging his hands down his body to the waistband of his jeans. His nimble fingers undid the button and zipper, yanking them down quickly. He broke the kiss again, making Alex whimper from the loss of contact.

“Patient hunter. I know you can be.” The nickname was no longer filled with suspicion and annoyance. Rather it sent another shot of need to his hard dick.

Michael went to pull his jeans completely off but stopped short of his knee. Alex froze. In all the tension and fighting, he had completely forgotten about his missing leg. He had never been so gone to forget that. What was this man doing to him? He looked down at Michael, worried this would make him stop all together.

“On or off?” It was such a simple question. But the fact that he had asked, while still very much in bloodlust had Alex relaxing back against the bed again.

“I can move better with it on. But if you want it off so you can have your wicked way with me…” Michael laughed and pressed his head against Alex’s thigh, nuzzling him.

“If you’ll let me, I’ll take care of you,” he assured. Alex nodded and sat up, beginning the process of removing the prosthetic. Michael moved to a different part of his body. He crawled around behind Alex and was kissing his shoulders, hands roaming all over his biceps and torso.

Alex tried to not get distracted but damn that mouth. His tongue darted out every now and then, wetting his skin. When he finally got it off along with the sock, Michael took it from him gently, setting it on the floor.

He resumed his attention on his shoulders and neck. Alex relaxed against him, whimpering sounds slipping from his mouth. Michael had found his pulse point again and was paying special focus on that one spot. His hands wandered down to his underwear and the very noticeable bulge. Alex groaned when he cupped him through the fabric. Michael didn’t tease long before he had pulled him out of the constricting material, rubbing him slowly.

“Fuck,” Alex sighed out. He felt Michael’s grin on his neck. Alex reached behind him, tangling his fingers in the beautiful curls, pressing his mouth over his artery. This pulled a moan from Michael.

“I’m dying for a taste of you. Please, can I have you,” he begged. Alex felt his teeth again and his cock jumped in anticipation.

“Yes,” he breathed out.

Michael didn’t go straight in like he thought he would. He pulled away from his neck, a tight control on his movements. He readjusted so that he sat behind Alex, legs on either side, body pressed flush against Alex’s. His slacks did nothing to hide his obvious arousal and it pressed against Alex’s lower back.

“Lean back against me and relax as much as you can,” he ordered gently. His hand continued stroking him, though it was more a second thought. Alex did as he was told, running his hands over what he could reach of Michael’s arms.

Michael’s free hand held his jaw gently, tilting his head to the side. He locked his lips over the spot again but still didn’t bite. He sucked and massaged with his tongue, serving only to work Alex up, making him thrust into the hand still wrapped around his cock. When he was satisfied, he pulled away, speaking low next to Alex’s ear.

“This might hurt at first. But it’ll get better. Trust me.” And he did. Alex didn’t know why, but he did.

Michael licked his neck again. Desire coiled in his stomach. A light pinch, then a throbbing pain. He gasped as Michael’s teeth sunk into him. His first instinct was to yank himself away but the warmth spreading throughout his body called for a different reaction.

His hand found its way into Michael’s curls again, holding him in place. His eyes fluttered shut, getting lost in the feeling of having Michael attached to his neck. He felt more than heard him groan. His hips jerked up into his hand again.

The dizziness set in quick, as though he had been drugged. Every part of his body felt like a nerve ending and all he wanted was Michael’s hands everywhere. The hand wrapped around his cock stroked with more purpose. Alex moaned loudly, not caring if anyone heard. Maybe even wanting people to hear.

He could feel Michael’s tongue licking at his neck where the blood dripped. His hips stuttered, struggling to keep up with the pace Michael set. Alex cursed and tugged on his hair. Desire twisted in his stomach and every muscle in his body flexed.

His orgasm hit harder than he expected. His back arched away from Michael though he was held in place. White stripes spurt over his torso and Michael’s hand. His body shuddered as he kept working him, overstimulating to the point of pain.

“Fuck! Michael…” he gasped out. He felt Michael detach from his throat. He pressed his tongue to the wounds, slowing the bleeding. He released his cock, running his hands up over his torso and through the cum. Alex whimpered at the touches. Every nerve in his body screamed for more while simultaneously making him want to run away for a bit of relief.

The waves kept rolling through his body, as though he hadn’t come down from his orgasm. He dug his fingers into Michael’s head and twisted his other hand into the sheets. The small moans only seemed to urge Michael on. He ran his hands over every part of Alex he could reach. He pressed gentle kisses to his neck.

“Shh… it’ll pass. Just relax,” he whispered to him.

“What… did you… do…” Alex panted out as his cock attempted to reharden.

“It’s my venom. I use it to take away the pain.”

Vampire venom. Sold on the black market as a party drug. When used in excess, it can put someone out for almost a day. In small doses, an aphrodisiac. When injected straight into the bloodstream…

“Fuck I feel everything… it’s too much, damnit!”

“It’ll wear off in a couple minutes. I’ll let you go until then.” Michael released him. He moved fluidly, not even brushing against Alex as he got off the bed. Alex scratched at his skin. He reached in the direction of the vampire. His fingers brushed against strong abs.

He refocused his eyes and took in the beautiful sight of him. His slacks still hung low and open. Enough that Alex could tell he didn’t have any underwear on. His muscles tensed under his fingers. He dragged his gaze up his body and finally landed on his face. Blood dripped from his lips and his pupils were dilated. His teeth had retracted so they only looked slightly longer than normal.

Alex grabbed his wrist, pulling him back onto the bed and on top of him. Michael let his surprise show when Alex grabbed him and kissed him. He hesitated at first but soon he was kissing Alex with all of his pent up need.

Alex grabbed his slacks, yanking them down to free his cock. He needed Michael inside him. Prep be damned.

“Fuck me. I need you to fuck me,” he pleaded, trying to pull him closer. He kicked off his own underwear in the process. Michael groaned and kissed him again. Alex felt the prick of his teeth.

“Damnit,” he cursed, pulling away from the kiss and hiding his face. Alex had caught the briefest glimpse of his teeth. Alex reached up to pull the hand away from his mouth. The teeth were already back. “I knew you would be a fucking addiction. I’ve had you and now... It doesn’t help when you say things that make me want to claim you,” he growled as he nuzzled against his shoulder. Alex’s heart flipped. He knew it shouldn’t have but this man turned out to be an addiction for him too.

“I need you Michael,” he mumbled again, taking his hand and dragging it down his body. His cock was half hard again. He was ready. Michael felt this and gave a low laugh.

“Who am I to deny you, hunter?” Michael was gone for less than a second before he was settling between Alex’s thighs, a bottle of lube in his hand.

Michael kissed his thighs as he coated two fingers with lube. Alex tried to keep as still as possible but the venom still working its way through his system had him thrusting toward wherever Michael touched him.

Michael rubbed around his puckered hole, the cool temperature of the lube a startling contrast to his own body. He pushed himself up on his elbows so he could watch Michael. The sweat that had formed on his neck rolled down his chest.

“Fuck, you smell even sweeter down here. But I feel like you’ll be pissed if I mark you up too much,” he said, nuzzling the soft inside of his thigh. He pressed a finger inside him, moving slowly. Teasing.

Alex let out a strained moan, the sound catching in his throat. He had to know what he was doing. How drawing this out drove him so crazy. He’d always been a patient person but with Michael, it wasn’t fast enough. He grabbed Michael’s hair, forcing him to look up at him.

“Mark me up as much as you want. But move your damn fingers faster or I might kill you,” he threatened. A sinful smirk grew on his face.

“You really know how to get a guy going,” he teased back. Alex would have responded but the finger that had been teasing him curved up, pressing against his prostate. His head rolled back as he released Michael’s hair and a second finger pushed in with the first.

The damned things fucked him open as he felt Michael’s tongue on his thigh. A quick nip then the sharp pinch of his teeth. The pain was hardly there compared to the first bite. The warmth that had been subsiding roared back to an inferno. His brain didn’t know what to focus on.

Michael decided for him as he scissored his fingers and began pushing a third in. He massaged the muscles, rubbing against Alex’s prostate more with every thrust. He was close again. Twice in less than ten minutes. It had to be a record. For him at least.

“Gunna… come…” He mumbled out. His hips moved with the thrusting of his fingers, forcing them deeper. Michael groaned and lifted the leg he was attached to over his shoulder, opening Alex up and giving him a better angle.

Michael seemed to bite down harder, sending a sting of pain through him. The not unwelcome feeling made his cock jump. He panted, reaching down to tangle his fingers in Michael’s hair again. He cursed as the fingers buried inside him spread him open. They twisted and curled to press against all the right places.

It was the press of a fourth finger that sent him spiraling over the edge again. His vision went white as it pushed in with the others. A choked sob ripped from his throat as his hips jerked, adding to the mess covering his torso. Alex fell to the bed, back arching as he gripped the sheets and Michael’s hair.

He felt Michael detach himself from his thigh, licking at the wounds to stop the bleeding. He pulled his fingers out of Alex’s ass slowly, careful to not press against any more sensitive areas. Alex’s head was spinning. Was it the orgasm or the loss of blood?

His hand fell from Michael’s hair as he crawled up his body, hovering over him. Alex’s half lidded eyes let him take in the beautiful man. He looked every bit like a predator deciding how to kill its prey. The blood that ran down his jaw and neck only made Alex want him more. He belonged to this man now. There wasn’t a single doubt in his mind.

Michael leaned in close, nuzzled the side of his neck that he hadn’t bit. Alex whimpered as his head rolled to the side. He would let this man kill him if he wanted. Michael exhaled a laugh, pressing soft kisses to his jaw and over his cheek. A gentle finger turned Alex’s head back to face him. Michael kissed him gently.

“No more. Don’t need you passing out from blood loss.” He brushed a piece of hair off Alex’s forehead, smiling sweetly. “You ok?”

Alex didn’t know if he could give an answer. He felt more than ok but also very obviously not thinking clearly. His body burned from the venom but he found that it wasn’t like before. He wasn’t desperate for more but Michael’s hands on his body were a welcome feeling rather than a painful one.

“I think so. What did you do,” he asked slowly when he found his words again.

“I took back some of the venom. While another vampire might be able to handle going a third round right away, I’m well aware you’re just a human,” he joked, rolling off and propping himself up on his elbow.

Alex looked over at him in all his naked glory. He was still rock hard and Alex felt bad that he hadn’t gotten off yet.

“You saying I’m not as good as another vampire,” he teased half-heartedly. Michael rolled his eyes and leaned in, speaking low against his ear.

“You far surpass any vampire. But if you were one… I could fuck you all night.” His heart hammered in his chest. Michael’s fingers traced patterns over his arm and torso, placing featherlight kisses to the spot under his ear and his jaw.

“You’re saying you want to turn me?” Michael froze in his movements, his body tensing.

“Careful Alex. Even suggesting it - especially when I’m high on you - the temptation is there. The idea of having you with me forever… fuck I want it. But you don’t deserve that kind of life.”

His heart skipped a beat. The idea didn’t exactly make him cringe or feel disgusted. Anything to keep this man next to him. His brain wasn’t in a right state and he knew it. As much as he wanted to believe it was.

He didn’t respond to the words. Just turned to face the vampire. He pushed him to his back slowly, pressing kisses to his collarbone and moving down his torso. Michael sighed happily, gently running his hand through Alex’s hair.

He nipped at the muscles on his sides, earning him a mixture of laughs and quiet moans. Alex wrapped his hand around his hard cock, rubbing slowly as he kissed his abs and down to his hips.

“Fuck Alex,” he breathed out. He felt himself grin. He moved and licked the head of his cock. Michael groaned and rolled his hips slightly. Alex took him into his mouth, using his hand to control how deep he went. The weight was heavy on his tongue and the salty taste made him moan. He hadn’t given head in a long time and he was remembering why he loved it so much. Then again, maybe it was just Michael.

Alex moved his tongue to massage the length of him. Michael rocked his hips slowly, never rushing him, just petting his head softly. He occasionally pulled but never hard. Alex relaxed his jaw, taking in more of him every downstroke. The head eventually hit the back of his throat. He held him there for a moment, loving the feel of him throbbing in his mouth.

Alex looked up at Michael through his eyelashes. He groaned and his hips jerked, making Alex gag slightly.

“Your mouth is a sin, hunter. I don’t know how long I can keep from fucking it.” The words sent desire straight to his cock. Though he wasn’t quite ready to have Michael abusing his ass again, he could at least give him a good blowjob.

Alex moaned around his cock, removing the hand wrapped around the base to run over his thighs. He dug his nails into the soft skin and scratched. Michael’s hips jerked again but he didn’t gag this time.

“You want me to fuck your mouth? Use you? Take what I want?” Alex groaned at the thought. That was exactly what he wanted. Michael pulled him off his cock. He released him with a wet pop and smirked at the vampire. He shook his head before climbing off the bed and standing at the edge.

“Lay down you damn brat.” Alex positioned himself on his stomach in front of him. He looked up at him, waiting for instructions. Michael ran a hand through his hair and down his face, looking at him almost lovingly.

“Tap my leg twice if it’s too much.” Alex nodded. “Words,” he ordered. Alex shuddered at the demanding tone.

“Ok.” Michael smiled and leaned down, pressing a kiss to his mouth. He pulled back slightly, still close enough for their lips to touch when he spoke.

“Now open your mouth and look at me the whole time.” Alex watched him as he stood up. He opened his mouth as ordered, waiting for any further requests. There were none as the fingers in his hair tugged gently and Michael was slipping his dick into his mouth.

Alex wanted to let his eyes close to focus on the feeling of him but he didn’t want to disobey him. Somehow he thought he might regret it. Michael moaned and started rocking his hips, slowly at first. He did the same as Alex had done earlier, working himself all the way in as to not choke him. Though Alex wouldn’t have minded it.

Michael hit the back of his throat and he shuddered at the feeling. His fingers tightened in his hair and he thrust his hips forward. Michael moaned and did it again. Curses tumbled from his lips as he fucked into his mouth. Alex groaned around him, causing his hips to stutter in their rhythm. Alex’s eyes fluttered shut.

“Look at me.” The order was practically growled at him. His eyes popped open and Michael forced his cock deep, triggering his gag reflex again. He gripped Michael’s thighs, attempting to control his thrusts. Unsuccessfully.

Michael thrust into him hard and fast. His own cock was starting to feel neglected and he rubbed himself against the sheets, looking for friction. Michael laughed and smirked above him, never faltering in his movements

“Is your cock hard already? You’re so fucking good for me. I don’t know how I’ll ever let you go. Maybe I won’t.” Alex moaned again, rocking his own hips. Michael panted above him, watching him the whole time.

Alex glanced down at his slightly elongated canines. They weren’t like before but Alex knew he was craving something. He met his gaze again and Michael growled placing a hand over his eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Alex didn’t know what he saw but he didn’t have time to dwell. Michael’s thrusts were losing their pattern, getting deeper and harder.

Then he was calling out. Moaning loudly and shoving himself to the back of Alex’s throat. Hot spurts coated his mouth as he swallowed as best he could. The throbbing against his tongue had his own hips picking up speed. He was past the point of caring that he was dry humping the bed like a teenager.

Michael pulled away and was hauling Alex up to his knees, crushing his mouth to his. His tongue darted out to taste himself. Michael wrapped his arms around his waist, keeping most of his weight off his legs. Alex groaned at the pressure of his cock being trapped between them, pressing against Michael’s abs.

“You’re so sexy... So responsive… Drives me crazy,” he punctuated each phrase with a kiss. Alex took his face in his hands, running his fingers over the stubble. He pressed his forehead against Michael’s, just breathing him in. He smelled like rain. He ran his thumb over his lips, and when Michael’s mouth opened, slipped one inside.

He brushed it over his tongue and back out. He did it again, this time pausing to catch his thumb over one fang. Michael took in a shaky breath, as though this was the most intimate thing they had done since meeting.

Alex could no longer imagine his life without Michael in it. He refused to have this be the only time they saw each other. Despite all his training to kill people like him. He was beginning to think it was all a lie. What had these people really done? Just because they drank blood from willing doners? Sure some of them killed people and they should be held to the laws of the government, just like anyone else. But to generalize a whole group? That sounded too familiar.

The pad of his thumb caught on the point of his tooth, drawing blood. He hissed, more out of surprise than pain. But Michael didn’t see it that way. He took Alex’s hand and pulled it away from his mouth, holding it to his chest.

“Sorry. You shouldn’t mess with those. I don’t want to hurt you unnecessarily.” Alex smiled and shook his head. He tugged his hand out of Michael’s and pressed his thumb to his lip, just as he did earlier with his palm.

He kissed him softly. Michael whimpered as he licked at his lip. Alex found himself being lifted then placed on his back on the bed. Michael had settled between his thighs and he could feel him poking his hole. Michael bent his legs back to have easier access.

“I need to be inside you before I do something stupid,” he said with barely contained restraint.

“Stupid like what,” Alex couldn’t help but ask.

Michael leaned over him, kissing and nuzzling his marked neck. Alex turned his head as though it was instinct now. He couldn’t stop it even if he tried. Michael moaned quietly.

“You’re making it really hard not to claim you.” Alex wrapped his arms around his neck. Some part of his brain thought through his next words but it certainly wasn’t the rational part.

“Then do it.”

Michael jerked back from him, an almost terrified look on his face. But even that couldn’t hide the joy dancing in his eyes. He shook his head.

“Alex. You don’t know what you’re saying.” Alex blinked and sat up, running his hands over Michael’s torso and shoulders.

“Maybe. But it feels right, doesn’t it?” He leaned forward, pressing kisses to his chest. Michael groaned softly then pushed him back down to the bed, bending his knees back

“It’s the venom talking. If you still feel that way after I fuck you, then I’ll consider listening.” Michael pressed himself against his ass again. He grabbed the lube bottle again and coated his dick.

He used the excess on his fingers to slip them back into his hole. One finger, then two, then three, making sure he was still ready. Alex moaned but knew not to get too used to it. Michael pulled his fingers out and guided his cock to replace them.

He pressed forward slowly. Alex’s back arched as he stretched around him, marveling at the fact that just the head could make him feel so good. He heard Michael curse from above him as he tried to go slowly. Alex’s fingers twisted into the sheets.

Michael thrust forward firmly but not rough. Alex groaned and tried to move his hips toward him but Michael held him in place. He pushed again and the head of his cock rubbed against his prostate, making him whimper and moan.

“I’m fine, Michael. Fuck me,” he pleaded. Michael trembled as his hips thrust forward roughly. Alex yelped in surprise. He felt so full and his cock leaked with precum.

“Do you have any idea how good you look right now? Spread open on my cock, leaking, begging me to fuck you.” Alex moaned when he thrust forward as he spoke. Everything faded to the back of his mind except for Michael and the way his body moved against him.

His thrusts picked up speed and he grunted with the force he used. Alex could hardly think about anything other than the way he pounded into him. He tried to watch Michael above him but every thrust was sending shockwaves of need through his body. His eyes fell closed as he got lost in the feeling.

Little moans slipped out every time Michael sank into him again. The headboard of the bed bumped against the wall. Alex felt a hand wrap around his throat, fingers carefully avoiding the bite. He opened his eyes to Michael staring at him a small smirk on his face. He lifted his hand to cover Michael’s, squeezing his fingers around his neck.

“You are so fucking perfect, Alex. How has no one snatched you up yet,” he said, leaning forward as he squeezed the sides of his neck. Not giving him time to respond, Michael kissed him with an open mouth. The dirty sound of them separating made Alex whine. “You are mine now. Do you understand?”

Alex normally hated this kind of entitlement. He always insisted that he didn’t belong to anyone. But something about it coming from Michael’s mouth made him want it more. These were obvious red flags but he couldn’t help himself. He moaned against Michael’s mouth.

“Yours,” he gasped out.

After a few more hard thrusts, Michael pulled out, though Alex didn’t have time to complain. He flipped him over and pulled him up on his hands and knees. He pressed down on his shoulders, forcing him down on his forearms.

He spread his ass and slid into him again, not bothering to go slow. Alex buried his face in the mattress in an effort to muffle his moans. Michael grabbed his hair and pulled him back up.

“Don’t you dare. I want to hear you. I want the whole place to hear you.” Alex shivered and his own cock jumped. Michael fucked him ruthlessly though he was almost sure he was still holding back. The desire that coiled inside him was ready to snap.

“Michael,” he moaned out, only managing his name. Then he was being pulled up so his back was against his chest. Michael wrapped one had around his cock and stroked. The other was in front of his lips, bleeding from a small bite on the heel of his hand. The same place Alex had cut his own.

Alex pressed his lips to the wound, licking at the blood. He should have been disgusted but again he wasn’t. Michael pressed his lips against the spot he had bit earlier, grunting out his words.

“Tell me you want this. That you want me to claim you.” His voice was pleading. The rational part of his brain told him to say no. But every other part of him screamed yes.

“Please. Claim me,” he whimpered out.

Michael’s teeth were sinking into him before he even finished talking. It wasn’t as intense as before but there was a dull pain. Then the warmth was spreading again. So much hotter than before and taking over every part of him. Michael fucked him hard and he could feel every groove and twitch of the cock inside him.

Alex’s third orgasm rocked through him, making him call out Michael’s name repeatedly. He came all over the sheets but his body wouldn’t stop burning. Michael detached himself from his neck and pushed him forward again. He seemed to let himself go, slamming into him at an abusive rate. Alex’s cock tried to come again but there was nothing left as it twitched helplessly. All he could do was moan and take whatever he gave.

With one last deep thrust, Michael cursed and came inside him. He ground his hips against him, using Alex to milk his cock. He rocked his hips gently a few extra times before pulling out. Alex’s legs shook and he felt Michael trialing kisses over his spine.

He let himself down slowly, laying on his side and panting hard. The burn had turned into a dull smolder and was quickly fading. Michael curled around him, leaving kisses wherever he could reach.

“Are you ok,” he asked after a moment. His mind was starting to clear. What had just happened? He lifted is fingers to run over the bite mark on his neck. At first, a panic started to build, but it was overtaken by comfort.

“Yea. I’m just… processing.” They were silent for a couple minutes.

“You regret it,” he said, a sad certainty haunting his voice. Alex felt him start to pull away. He turned toward him immediately grabbing his hand and holding it to his cheek.

“No. I don’t regret it. The whole thing was just—”

“Intense,” Michael finished for him. Alex nodded. He glanced down at his mouth. Before he could think better of it, he kissed him. Their first non-desperate, lust filled kiss. Michael held him gently and Alex ran his fingers through the curls. They broke apart after a moment.

“I suppose now would be a bad time to make you promise not to kill me, hunter,” Michael joked. Alex snorted and ran his hands over his arms, feeling the muscle.

“I promise.” He paused. “What did you do to me exactly?” Michael sighed and propped himself up on his elbow. He ran his fingers over the mark on his neck.

“They don’t teach you that in training? Man, the academy is sure going downhill.” Alex rolled his eyes. He wanted a real answer.

“Michael,” he scolded gently. He sighed again, running his hand through Alex’s hair.

“Basically, my blood will heal you if taken alone. But I also injected you with my venom. Well over the amount needed to cause a blackout, mind you. But with my blood in your system, it forms a bond instead.” Alex nodded, covering Michael’s hand with his own. He smiled and leaned in close, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“No other vampire will dare to touch you unless they want to deal with me. I can keep you safe.” Alex chuckled as the vampire planted kisses all over his face and down his neck, eventually landing on the mark.

“I hardly know you,” Alex pointed out.

“But this feels right. And I can’t wait to get to know all of you,” Michael responded, lifting his head and gazing down at him with the softest expression Alex had ever seen. He pulled him in again, kissing him lovingly.

Alex was essentially married to this man. A man he was supposed to hate but didn’t. He knew nothing about him except that this wasn’t a mistake. That maybe he was finally making the right choices.

Alex ended up falling asleep. He didn’t know how long. Just that when he woke up, he was covered in clean blankets and Michael was right next to him.

[diavolosthots]

Thanks so much for answering my last question I loved it so much😫💕 I’m in desperate need of angst rn and I had this random idea of the boys falling in love with one of MC’s past descendants from centuries ago who might’ve been a nun but always saw the best in the demon bois and never condemned them so to speak, and since they’re human they eventually die from old age. Just one of those sad almost fantasy like star-crossed lovers tales that make me weep, hc’s for that would kill me 💕

Since I'm feeling nostalgic anyway, might as well tackle this. Im only doing the brothers though :3

WARNINGS: sadness? Also like one curse word.

THE BROTHERS taking a trip down memory lane

Lucifer:

It wasnt often that Lucifer got a moment to himself, but sometimes, when it's late and everyone is surely asleep, or at least tucked away in their rooms, he takes a minute to unwind. Maybe he'll get a glass of century old bourbon or maybe even some deep red wine. Whatever it may be, he always sits himself down in his red cushioned chair and looks out the window, into the dark Devildom sky. More often than not, his mind begins to shift away from reality and he soon finds himself deep in thought, reliving moments from millennia ago. There used to be someone, someone who managed to amaze him in every sense of the way, and as he sits there, the cold glass of bourbon in his gloved hand, he feels the pain tuck at his heart... And he smiles sadly... Knowing that they're just that; a memory.

Mammon:

He loves life. Loves the thrill. Loves to have no consequences. He puts himself in dangerous situation. He loves to go crazy. But he doesn't do it for fun. He does it because every time he feels the world slow down and time catch up to him, he knows he's in a bad situation. He cant take it. Not again. To see, to feel, the dead body in his hands once more, murdered by the people he most hates, sends a shiver down his spine. The day has long passed, but he hasnt stopped running since. Running from them. Running from the problems. Running from himself. And he won't stop running, ever. Not until he knows it's safe. But in this world, is it ever truly safe?

Leviathan:

The reason he drowns himself in games and technology, maybe even the sea, is because he cant bear the pain of stopping. Its been centuries since he last saw their face, a picture thats slowly fading into nothingness every time he tries to reach for it. He knows it's useless, knows theyre long dead and definitely not here in the Devildom. For days hes searched for their soul, searched for their being when he heard of their death, but he knew they would never end up down here with him... He is a monster after all.

Satan:

Satan loves the stars. Loves the night sky. Loves the candlelight and moonlight. He finds romance in it; love. Peace. But he doesnt see it often. God wouldnt grant him such peace when his whole being is made of turmoil. So he sits there, alone at night, surrounded by thousands of stories that live forever, just like he lives forever, and he wishes he didn't. He dares dip into his head at night, past the anger, past the turmoil, and into the softness of himself that he hasnt felt in a long time. Not ever since they left him. Ever since their being turned around and walked out, saying hes too much. Too strong. Too angry. Too much of him. But how can he change himself? He would. For them. But he cant, not anymore. He realized that far too late.

Asmodeus:

Maybe the reason he despises real love is because of the commitment. Maybe it's because of the star-struck eyes. Or maybe it's because of the happiness it brings. Deep down, he knows why. But he wont admit it. Yet, when his body is weak, and the whores have run out; when he lays in his bed at night surrounded by lovers long forgotten, he admits it to himself. Silently. Slowly. Quietly. He admits that his heart has been stolen by someone from ages ago. He admits that he was once so in love, that it crushed him; betrayed him. And he swore to himself that he cant let it happen again. That he'd rather be the heartbreaker than the heartbroken. That he'd stay true to his demon form and put misery into the world, to protect himself.

Beelzebub:

Its days like these, where he stuffs himself full of food; all kinds of food. Human. Demon. Angel. That he remembers the one food he'll never touch. The food that shared so many memories between them and him. So many laughs. So many adventures. And as much as the memory of their laughter resonates within his heart, lights his whole being on fire, he cant bear to listen to it for long. Its like a cursed record that plays the sweetest melody, that draws one in and makes them want to stay forever, not realizing that the minute the sound stops, theyre already damned and left to suffer. So here he stands now, the food long forgotten, while he clutched his heart and tried to keep the tears from falling.

Belphegor:

Dreams are an escape to another reality. A world, where no rules and laws exist and its just oneself. He loves drifting of to sleep for that very reason; he can create his own world, live his own life. Yet, sometimes he is plagued by beautifully terrifying images of a person; a person he hoped to forget a long time ago. Seeing their smiling face, feeling their hand in his, and reliving the days in the sun, sends a tsunami over his soul; a tsunami thats sure to wash him away. But everytime he sees that face again, so realistic in front of his closed eyes, he screams. In panic. In fear. In sadness. Because he can't admit that he hates to be apart from them, for so many centuries long.

[wkemeup]

I’m With You (2/3)

series summary: When two strangers meet on a layover in the Charlotte Airport, they find that a lifetime can sit in the span of three days and it doesn’t take very long at all to fall in love. pairing: bucky x reader warnings: super soft!bucky, shenanigans, an asshole of an ex-boyfriend 🌸series masterlist // series playlist 🌸

T H E   W E D D I N G 

You sat at the far corner of the bar, tucked behind a post and a sudden influx of men you recognized from your college years enough to turn your back and hide your face into your second glass of bourbon.

The bartender eyed you carefully, raising an eyebrow as you neared the end of your drink but you shook your head. You were drinking too much too fast for a woman alone at a wedding and you figured you should have enough wits about you to look after yourself, at least.

Knee bouncing in a nervous twitch with your heel wrapped around the footrest of the barstool, you let out a tired huff. The ceremony hadn’t even started yet and you were already losing it. Without a single other person around you could cling onto for sanity, you were left alone to face the wedding of your ex-boyfriend, Jack; your longest, most serious relationship. Actually, your only relationship.

Shit.

You took another sip.

The rowdy group of guys beside you were hollering amongst one another and you could spot one staring at you with a hungry kind of look that made your stomach turn. You reached into your bag, hoping to distract yourself with your phone when your fingers touched crumpled paper.

You pulled it out slowly, examining the series of numbers scribbled in black ink you’d been handed at three in the morning by the handsome stranger who’d turned a near overnight in the Charlotte airport into an adventure filled with coffee, cartwheels, snacks, checkers, and intimate questions you never would have answered if it wasn’t for the genuine curve of his smile and the kindness in the blue of his eyes.

Bucky.

You swallowed nervously, running a thumb over the letters. It hadn’t even been a full twenty-four hours since you’d seen him and you were already thinking of calling. You sighed, groaning, never having felt more pathetic in your life. Until, Marci Jacobs walked into the room and somehow, you felt even worse.

Marci was a friend of Jack’s from school. She never liked you in all the three years you’d been with Jack and she made no effort to hide her dislike of you. She spotted you from across the room and with a smirk upon her face, she made her way towards you, despite your best efforts to sink into yourself and disappear completely.

“Y/n!” she cheered, voice shrill and fake as she attempted to hug you. You let her, awkwardly, though you remained incredibly stiff. She didn’t seem to notice or care. “We didn’t think you’d make it with the storm!”

“Yep,” you nodded, eyes darting to the floor. “Got a last-minute flight this morning around three.”

“Good, good,” she replied, though she was looking over your shoulder, like she was waiting for someone. “So… are you here alone?”

There it was. The reason she came over to you. There always had to be something with Marci, a reason for her to berate you.

You sighed, nodding and gesturing to the clearly empty seats around you. She smiled.

“Shame,” she shrugged, though she didn’t look the least upset about it. “Anyway, I’ll see you at the ceremony. I’m sure you’re looking forward to seeing Jack again. Oh! And the bouquet toss, since you’re clearly available.”

You clenched your jaw, forcing out a nod and a tight smile though it took all of your effort. The moment she turned her back to you and made her way out of the bar, you exhaled a massive breath of relief. Clinging to the crumpled paper in your hand you had hidden in the palm of your grip, you pull out your phone.

You didn’t know what the hell you were thinking attending this wedding; surrounding by Jack and his friends, alone, and the prime target for every joke. But you couldn’t leave now, not now that Marci had seen you and was likely on her way to inform Jack that you’d arrived so they could have a good laugh about it together. A lump burned in your throat just thinking of it.

Before your nerve could get the better of you, you typed the numbers into your phone and brought it to your ear. Each ring echoed in your chest and your heart thumped a decibel louder. Your hand was practically shaking, waiting.

Did you want him to answer? Was it worse if he didn’t?

You nearly hung up the phone before you could find out when a scruffy voice came through the speaker, tired, confused, and your heart froze.

“Hello?” he called, like he’d just woken up.

You parted your lips to respond, but nothing came out.

“Anyone there?” he asked slowly and you were sure he could hear the patrons in the bar, the music playing low over the speakers, and the clinking of glasses as the bartender stacked them on the shelf beside you.

“Hey Bucky,” you finally choked out, cursing yourself at how pathetic you already felt. There went the whole three-day-rule you had always told yourself you didn’t believe in anyway, but now that you were the one calling less than twenty-four hours later, you felt like an idiot.

An exhale that hinted at relief came through his end of the phone and you could hear him shuffling around, like he was tossing blankets off of him and sitting up on a squeaking bed.

“Hey Y/n, I didn’t—” he chuckled and you could practically picture him running his fingers through his hair, “I didn’t think you’d call so soon,” you winced at that, “but I’m glad you did.”

Okay. That’s interesting.

“You are?” you asked nervously, playing with the edge of your glass, swirling the leftover amber liquid on the bottom.

“I was actually kicking myself over not getting your number,” he said, smile in his voice. “I kept thinking when I boarded my plane that I wanted to text you and tell you to have a safe flight and to text me when you land because – I don’t know – that’s something people do for one another these days and I thought you might think it was kind of sweet or something but I never got your number and I realized I’d have to wait for you to reach out and... I’ll tell ya, Y/n, I was nervous you might not ever call and—” he paused suddenly and a tight breath brushed over the speakers, “I’m rambling like a complete idiot. You must think I’m insane.”

“I already kind of thought you were insane, Bucky,” you laughed, cheeks aching from how wide you were smiling and as his nervous chuckle came through the speakers, you relaxed instantly. “But you’re right, I would have thought it was sweet. Maybe you can do that when I fly home?”

“Yeah,” he replied, “yeah, doll, I absolutely will.”

You bit on your lip, trying to hold back the smile to keep it sacred from the guy who had been eyeing you across the bar earlier. He narrowed his gaze on you and you remembered why you’d called Bucky in the first place.

“Hey, so, um,” you started awkwardly, “are you doing anything today?”

“If wasting away in a hotel room counts as doing something, then sorry, doll, I’m all booked,” he teased, already drawing another smile out of you. “Bec’s graduation is tomorrow. Got today to psych myself up.”

Your heart sank.

“Oh! Oh, okay, yeah that makes sense,” you mumbled, clenching your hand around the glass so tight you thought you might break it.

“Why? What’s going on?” Bucky asked sweetly and you couldn’t help the twist in your stomach. He was too kind, too perfect. You’d never stand a chance with him in real life. Whatever you thought you had with him should have just stayed in the airport at midnight where it belonged.

“It’s—It’s nothing. I don’t want to interrupt your plans.”

“Trust me, doll, I’d rather do just about anything else than spend the whole day ruminating over how freaked out I am about tomorrow.”

You shook your head, suddenly feeling so incredibly stupid for reaching out to him now that it was real. It would be worse than showing up alone. Being with a guy you barely met a day ago who was so clearly out of your league… it would be a field day for Marci and you didn’t even want to think of how Jack would react.

“You’re at that wedding, aren’t you?” Bucky asked gently, carefully, like he knew your heart was breaking on the other end of the phone, even when you didn’t respond. “Where's it at? I’ll come to you.”

“Don’t—Don’t worry about it, Buck. I’m—I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have bothered you with this,” you said quickly, choking on the lump in your throat and trying to avoid the stares of the guy across the bar.

A woman rushed into the room and circled her hand above her head, signaling it was time to gather for the ceremony.

“Y/n, you’re not bothering me, doll,” Bucky insisted, rushed tone because he could hear you shuffling your things together. “Please, just tell me where you are and I’ll be there.”

“I have to go,” you stammered out and even as Bucky tried to object, calling your name as you pulled the phone away from your ear, you hung up.

It was for the best, you told yourself. Bucky couldn’t possibly want you amongst a sea of beautiful women in cocktail dresses and you didn’t think you could handle the look on Jack’s face when he sees just how out of your depth you are. He’d never come out and say it but he’d find ways to chip at your heart, something subtle enough to say in front of a crowd that could still manage to break away your self-esteem. It was a special talent of his.

So, you followed the crowd into the cathedral with bourbon on your breath and wondering how a bar managed to operate next door to a church. Though, you realized, both were places of refuge, weren’t they?

***

The ceremony didn’t start for nearly thirty minutes after the entire guest list had been seated. You sat in the last pew on the right side, tucked away so far back you hoped Jack wouldn’t be able to see you. He stood at the altar, dressed in a black suit with light pink flowers pinned to his lapel as he chatted with his friends standing to his left. He didn’t seem bothered in the slightest by the late arrival of his bride.

When the music finally did start, Marci was the first one down the aisle, followed by four more of the bride’s friends. The dresses were stunning, with a blush sheen and a silk texture, they all looked like models off of a runway. You glanced down at your burgundy dress. It cinched at the waist and flowed gently down to the mid of your thighs and you had thought it was decent enough until you saw these women walk by.

Then, came the bride, Lena, with long blonde waves flowing down her back and braids circling her head in a crown, adorned with flowers and a vail that swept over her exposed back and carried for yards behind her in the aisle. Her dress was unlike anything you’d seen and looked like it was hand made for her. She was perfect. She was exceptional. You understood what Jack meant by ‘better options.’

Some shuffling on your left suddenly grabbed your attention as the minister greeted the guests, and you turned to find the other members of your pew grumbling. You narrowed your eyes, trying to find the source of their irritation when a familiar voice whispered beside you, “so, what I miss?”

You turned sharply to your right to where the voice had spoken in your ear to find Bucky grinning wildly at you, albeit a little out of breath as he rested against the pew ahead of him for support. Your jaw dropped, looking him over to find him in a light blue suit that somehow managed to make his eyes stand out more than they already did. A bead of sweat dripped from his brow and his quickly wiped it away.

“W-What are you doing here?”

“Attending a wedding. What are you doing here?” he replied cheekily, taking a seat as the minister instructed. He tugged on your hand to sit down next to him when you didn’t budge, still in shock, not noticing you were the only one still standing. Your face flushed a red as your dress.

“How did you— How did you even find it?” you whispered, grimacing as an older gentleman in the pew ahead of you turned around to glare in your direction.

“It’s the third one I’ve been to today,” Bucky said into your ear, so impossibly close you could feel the warm of his breath against your skin. You shivered as he continued. “Once I picked up a suit from my buddy Steve, I just had to check the papers. Turns out, there’s seven couples getting married in Atlanta today. Got lucky on number three.”

You nodded, understanding the logic of it but at a loss as to why he was sitting next to you. He must have picked up on your confusion and he smiled sweetly at you.

“You sounded upset on the phone,” he said softly as the guests recited a psalm together in unison. He leaned closer so you could hear him. “I didn’t want you to be alone through this. I know it might not feel like it, but you made a world of difference for me last night. I wanted to return the favor. Make something painful a little easier.”

Bucky sighed, standing up with the crowd, and pulling you up by your hand again because you were simply too lost in anything else but him to notice. He smiled at that, nudging your shoulder and leaning in again.

“Plus, I like you,” he said causally and your heart nearly stopped completely, “I wanted to see you again and if I could make a good second impression and be in a suit, I wasn’t going to let that opportunity pass me by. Besides,” he eyed you carefully, smile tugging at his cheeks, “you look beautiful.”

You blushed and Bucky’s smile only widened. You weren’t even sure how that was possible.

“That dress is a good color on you, doll. It matches your cheeks now,” he teased and you swatted at his arm, mumbling at him to ‘shut up’ and he chuckled, biting down on his lip when the man in front of you turned to scold you again. Bucky muttered a quick apology and you pressed your face into his shoulder to keep yourself from bursting out into laughter.

The entire ceremony, Bucky managed to keep a smile on your face, whispering teasing comments into your ear and making fun of the bride’s father who sat with his arms crossed over his chest, red faced, the entire time. You thought you might actually survive this up until the moment the minister requested for Jack and Lena to recite their vows.

Jack pulled out a piece of paper from his jacket and your breath hitched in your throat.

He wrote his own vows?

He couldn’t have been bothered to get you a card on Valentine’s Day or remember your birthday but he chose to write his own vows?

“I have loved you since the first day I saw you,” Jack started and you gripped tight to the pew ahead of you. “I remember the exact dress you were wearing because I’d never seen anyone more beautiful in my entire life.”

Your hand was shaking and even as Bucky noticed, trying to sooth you with a cautious hand laying on top of yours, you could feel the lump burning in your throat.

“It was spring. The flowers were blooming on the cherry blossoms by the library on campus. You were walking out of your econ class carrying four different books and struggling just to see above the bindings. I knew in that instant, you’d be my whole world. Nothing else mattered to me in that moment. It all just faded away.”

You froze, breath caught in your throat. No, no that couldn’t be. He’d broken up with you right after graduation. The way he described his first-time seeing Lena, like it had happened in your last semester at school.

‘It all just faded away.’ You faded away.

He had already found his better option before he even left you.

Oh, God.

Tears were in your eyes before you could stop them. You could only vaguely hear Bucky whispering gently in your ear, his hand running soothingly along your arm, but none of it was registering, not as Jack looked so loving into Lena’s eyes, describing in painful detail the moment he decided to throw you away.

You clenched your hands into fists, digging your nails into your palms as your breaths started to come in with short gasps. Ignoring Bucky’s attempts to calm you, you pushed your way through the aisle, legs shaking and numb and disregarding the disgruntled comments of the guests you squeezed past. You didn’t even spend a second out in the open before you darted out into the back alcove of the church, away from prying eyes in an enclosed room likely meant to hide the bride before the ceremony began.

You stumbled around, trying to find something to ground yourself with but nothing was working. You were feeling light-headed up until the moment two hands grasped onto your arms and you were met with ocean blue eyes.

“Hey, doll, you’re alright,” Bucky whispered, brushing a fallen hair away from your face and letting his free hand slide down your arm until he took a firm hold of your own, guiding it up to his chest and setting it over his heart. “Breathe with me now. In. Out. Good, Y/n. You’re doing so well. Come on now, keep going.”

You nodded, following his instructions and trying to push past the dizziness in your head and the throbbing ache in your chest. He’d done this before, that much you could gather. He was a soldier; he’d mentioned that in the airport. You wondered if he ever got panic attacks like this and you winced at the thought, of even comparing your heartbreak over an ex who didn’t even treat you well to whatever horrors he’d faced overseas.

Bucky’s hand didn’t leave yours as it sat on his chest. His hands were much larger than yours, covering the whole of your palm, and he smiled gently at you the whole time. As your breathing came back down, he whispered praises, told you how safe you were, that you were going to be alright, that he wouldn’t leave you.

How is it that you only met this man at an airport less than twenty-four hours ago?

Bucky pulled out a chair for you once your breathing was more even and helped you to sit down. You glanced up at him, wiping away the tears from your eyes, expecting to find something like pity or annoyance on his face but you were only met with kindness, of empathy, and concern.

“You alright?” he asked carefully.

You could hear the mics picking up Lena’s vows in the background. You clenched your jaw and you nodded, trying to convince him and yourself that you were, but the lump choked you again and the tears came right back.

“I think he cheated on me,” you gasped out and Bucky’s smile fell instantly. “His—His vows. We were still together until after graduation. But he met her b-before and he kept saying nothing else mattered and—and that—that was me, Bucky, I didn’t matter—”

A sob choked its way through you and Bucky darted forward, gathering you in his arms and holding you tight to his chest. You clung onto him like he was your only tether to this earth, crying tears into the lapel of his blue suit as he rubbed his hand in gentle circles over the bare of your back between the straps of your dress.

“You matter, Y/n,” Bucky soothed, repeating it again and again like a mantra, “you matter, okay? Jack is an asshole and an even shitter boyfriend and you deserve so much more than that, do you hear me? You’re incredible and selfless and funny and so fucking beautiful it makes my stomach twist all up in knots just lookin’ at ya. You are the best option, remember? Y/n, I need you to hear me on this.”

“I hear you,” you mumbled into his jacket, though you didn’t quite believe it, not with Jack standing up there proclaiming his love for the woman he left you for.

“Let’s get out of here,” Bucky said, pushing you back from his embrace just enough to get a good look at your face. Your cheeks were rosy and eyes red with tears, and you were certain half of your makeup was down your face, but Bucky didn’t even flinch. He reached forward and brushed his thumb ever so slightly under your eye, wiping away a trail of mascara and tears. “We don’t have to stay, Y/n. We can leave now and go do something fun. Screw Jack and this stupid wedding.”

You laughed despite yourself, but you shook your head. “If I leave now, I’ll never live it down. I can’t be the ex that ran out of the ceremony and deserted the reception. Especially since Jack knows I’m here and Marci will tell every goddamn person at this wedding how pathetic I am.”

“Who gives a shit what those people think?” Bucky shrugged, trying to draw a smile out of you, but your jaw was clenched shut. He sighed. “You give a shit, don’t you?”

“I wish I didn’t,” you replied defeatedly, eyes darting to the floor and shame seeping into your features.

“Okay,” Bucky nodded, tucking a flyaway hair behind your ear and then gently rubbing at the mascara stains on your cheek, “guess we better make the most of it, huh?”

He offered you his hand and you took it gratefully. The two of you started to make your way back into the church when suddenly the door to your secluded room swung open and Marci was standing in the frame. She narrowed her eyes, clearly not expecting to find you here.

“What are you doing?” she snipped, though her voice was light and airy, “the ceremony just ended. Jack and Lena are outside greeting the guests.”

Her eyes fell on Bucky then and she softened immediately. Of course, she did. She was the type of effortlessly stunning you expected Bucky to want but as she trailed her gaze down his body, you felt him stiffen next to you. The moment she caught sight of your hand encased in his, she clenched her jaw.

“Sorry, who are you?” she asked Bucky, stepping closer to him and ignoring your presence completely.

Your lips parted, trying to come up with an excuse because she had seen you at the bar, she’d known you’d been here alone, but you couldn’t form a single strand of words. Thankfully, Bucky was quicker on his feet than you and he darted his free hand out for her to shake.

“Bucky, the boyfriend,” he said casually and your heart stopped. Boyfriend? “I flew in last minute to surprise my girl, but don’t fret, you can tell the happy couple I plan to steer clear of the food and drinks so they don’t have to worry about paying extra for my crashing.”

He pulled you tighter to his side, arm draping over your shoulders and a giddy smile on his face as he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head like it was nothing. Marci didn’t seem convinced, only that was probably more due to the fact that it was you Bucky was talking about and not because he wasn’t a convincing liar. You were pretty convinced for a moment yourself.  

“Right,” Marci drawled, reaching to the desk to pick up the marriage certificates, “I guess I’ll see you at the reception. Jack is so looking forward to seeing you, Y/n.”

You nodded, though your hand balled into a fist. In any other tone, maybe her parting words could have sounded like a warm invitation, but to you, they were a threat.

The moment she disappeared out the door and you were alone again, Bucky let out an exasperated sigh.

“She’s… something else,” he grunted. “We should get going if we want to make it to cocktail hour before all the shrimp are gone.”

“Thought you weren’t going to eat?” you chuckled under your breath, the tension fading from your muscles and Bucky must have felt it because his hand snaked back down your arm and into your own.

“Never said I wouldn’t steal one or two off your plate,” he grinned back, leading you to the door and away from your brief sanctuary. You didn’t feel as afraid stepping out of this room when you had Bucky’s hand encased in your own.

***

You didn’t know how you would have survived if it wasn’t for Bucky at your side. The entire cocktail hour, guests gathered in the luxurious ballroom halls, standing around high-top tables with tiny appetizers and mingling amongst themselves. Some were old friends from college, others were extended family you recognized from your time with Jack. They all sent incredibly unsubtle glances in your direction as they whispered to one another.

“The shrimp are overcooked,” Bucky grumbled, though you knew full well they were cooked to perfection and he was just trying to make you feel better. “You sure you don’t want to skip this joint and go to that ice cream shop I was telling you about? I hear it's incredible. I’m tellin’ ya, doll.”

“I’m sure, Bucky,” you said with a soft smile, though as you watched him press his lips into a thin line and nod, your stomach ached a little. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. I’ll be—I’ll be fine on my own.”

“What? No way,” Bucky shook his head as he grabbed another plate of shrimp from a waiter as he passed by. “I’m not going anywhere. Just wanted to give you an out if you needed it. I love weddings, even if they’re for cheating, asshole ex boyfriends. You should see me on the dance floor. You’ll regret ever knowing me.”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” you mumbled under your breath as Bucky took another bite of shrimp. He smiled at you and you weren’t sure if he’d heard you or not, but your heart was swelling to five times its size and you were certain you’d be devastated when the night ended.

The waiters began to guide the guests to the main ballroom and you shuffled in behind Bucky, holding tight to his hand as he led you to where your name plate was listed. As you came up on the table, you realized there wouldn’t be a seat for him.

He noticed too, but he didn’t say a word as he sank down into your chair, and patted his thigh. You froze, narrowing your eyes on him as a heat burned in your face but he started to chuckle, waving you off before he stood and offered you the chair.

“Only joking, Y/n,” he smiled sweetly as you sat down. He crouched next to you, as not to obstruct the view of the incoming wedding party from the guests behind him.

As the announced the bridesmaids and groomsmen, even as Marci came dancing out from behind the double doors, you managed to keep your composure. That was, until Jack and Lena were announced and they sauntered out into the ballroom to enthusiastic applause, smiling widely at one another and so clearly in love it made your stomach twist into painful knots.

You weren’t in love with Jack. That was never the issue, though you wondered if that was what Bucky thought as he watched you carefully as Jack and Lena prepared for their first dance as a married couple, the song echoing through the speakers one on a playlist you had made him for his twenty-first birthday.

No, you didn’t love Jack, not anymore, but you wondered constantly why he never seemed to love you. He certainly couldn’t have then if he left you so easily and you hadn’t even known at the time it was for another woman.

He had said he wanted to look at better options but you always thought it was hypothetical. You didn’t realize he had already found someone else, someone better. You wondered if you were broken; wondered why the one man you’d ever loved, ever given yourself over to wholly, could leave you like you had meant nothing to him.

That was why watching him with Lena was so painful. He was capable of great love and kindness and compassion, but he’d never looked at you with even an ounce of the way he looked at her.

You must have been gripping the edge of the chair tight enough for your muscles to twitch because Bucky’s hand gently sat over yours. He turned to you with a sad kind of smile and that sweet look in his eyes and you wondered if maybe he would find someone better than you, too.

The dance ended and the crowd erupted into applause; the happy couple beaming and thanking their guests as the DJ started to play upbeat music. You watched at Jack led Lena to the head table, offering her to pull out her chair and you rolled your eyes.

“Alright, let’s go,” Bucky huffed, jumping back up to his feet and holding out his hand. You narrowed your eyes, lips pursing.

“What are you—”

“Time to dance, doll. Let’s go,” he said again, prying your hand away from the back of the chair when you refused to budge and started to tug you to the clearly empty dance floor. He yanked you enough to get you on your feet and you were already panicking.

“Bucky! No! This is—this is a bad idea,” you whispered frantically as Bucky dragged you to the center of the dance floor and you darted your head around the room looking for people to laugh and point but no one was playing attention, certainly not as Bucky started to sway his hips and several couples came up to the dance floor to join you.

“It only takes a few people to get the party started,” Bucky shrugged, gesturing to the now packed dance floor as he danced along to the beat, though you remained completely still. He grunted, grabbing onto your shoulders and forcibly moving you in a swaying motion until you started to laugh and he grinned, letting you go as you danced on your own.

***

You didn’t leave the dance floor for nearly an hour, shouting out the lyrics to songs you didn’t even know you had memorized until sweat beaded on your forehead and you forgot who’s wedding you were at in the first place. Bucky was infectious, in every sense of the term; his joy, his laugh, his smile, his overwhelming selflessness. He dropped everything the moment he sensed you were upset and he barely even knew you. What would he do if he’d known you for days? Months? Years?

As he laughed at himself for nearly tripping over his own foot as he spun you around, you wondered if maybe there was something more beyond the stranger who approached you in the airport earlier that morning.

That was, until the DJ announced he was going to “cool things down” and the upbeat music faded into acoustic guitar and slow melodies.

You stumbled slightly in your stance, looking around awkwardly to the couples as they held onto their loved ones, others retreating back to their seats with tired groans. You started to back away to save yourself from the embarrassment of it all, but then, Bucky’s hand latched onto yours.

You turned back to him with wide eyes and you were only met with that beaming grin of his as he pulled you hard enough to come crashing back against his chest. Your hair flew into his face, hand gripping onto the lapel of his jacket for support.

He let out that laugh of his that made your stomach weak as his hand snaked around your waist, holding you still against him but giving you the leeway to move if you wanted to escape. His free hand gently pushed the hair away from your face as he started to sway softly, guiding you along with him and you were sure your breath was locked in your lungs.

“Don’t tell me you were gonna abandon me, doll?”

You chewed on your lip, looking just about anywhere but his eyes. “I don’t usually… um… slow dance.”

“What? Jack never dance with you?” Bucky teased, though you could hear the hint of bitterness behind his voice as he stole a glance over at the head table. When you didn’t respond because you simply couldn’t stand the humiliation of admitting he was right, Bucky clenched his jaw tightly, muscle twitching in the effort. His smile was tense now, though he tried to push aside his anger. “Well screw him. I’m dancing with you, ain’t I? And you’re wonderful at it. Poor sucker doesn't even know what he’s missing.”

You smiled sadly at him as his fingers rubbed careful patterns into the small of your back, encouragingly, reassuringly, and you rested your cheek on his shoulder. The action must have surprised him because you felt his breath hitch, though he relaxed just as quickly, humming along to the song. Off key and still like honey, like the moments before you met him.

You didn’t know how long you stayed like that, swaying gently with him until you unclasped your right hand from his left and wrapped both arms around his neck, his at your waist. Two, three songs passed by and you held him close, listening to the soft brushes of his breath and the fluttering of his heartbeat.

Leaning back slightly because you simply had to know what was going on in his head, you were met with startling blue eyes, though softened and longing for something you couldn’t quite believe. He swallowed, eyes flickering down at your lips.

“Bucky,” you whispered his name, unsure of what you even wanted to say when he was looking at you like that. Your heart was pounding in your chest, thunderous and exhilarated, as he leaned in closer. His breath ghosted against your lips and you swore the entirety of time stopped in that instant, up until the moment a disgruntled cough beside you pulled you both from your daze.

You both flinched at the sound as the elderly woman coughed again, turning to face her as she scowled in your direction before she smiled sweetly at Bucky. She was carrying a handkerchief in her hand, patched of bright red lipstick on the white cloth.

“You looked like a strong young man,” she started and Bucky sent you a glance that made you chuckle, biting on your lip to suppress it before the woman could notice. “My nephew needs some assistance in carrying some of the alcohol barrels from the truck.”

“Kegs?” Bucky asked with a light laugh and she nodded.

“Won’t you be a dear? I’m sure your date won’t mind,” she said, shaking her handkerchief in your direction though she didn’t spare you a glance. You supposed it was something to get used to around Bucky; women of all ages fawning over him, if you ever got the chance to even try to get used to it.

Bucky clenched his jaw, exhaling a tight breath from his nose. “Ma’am, I would, but I’d rather not leave my--”

“Go,” you offered, stepping back from him and pulling away his hands from your waist. He frowned, smile falling instantly but you brushed your hand over his cheek, drawing it back almost instantly. “I’ll be fine, Buck. Go. You won’t be long.”

He nodded and the elderly woman grinned, exposing yellowed teeth with lipstick stains mixed in.

“Be back the second I can,” he promised, grabbing your hand on his cheek and pulling it to his lips, kissing at the knuckles chastely and you were sure your heart stopped beating entirely. He stepped back, offering his arm to the woman as she walked him in the direction of her nephew, leaving you alone on the dance floor surrounded by couples.

Taking a deep breath, you decided to get some air. Without Bucky by your side, the room felt incredibly lonely again and you found yourself searching for a glass of bourbon. Quickly grabbing one from the bartender and making your way outside past the double doors to the back patio, a fresh wave of air hit you and you relaxed instantly.

You looked out to the skyline of the city and sun setting in the distance and flourish colors painting the sky. It was a wonder you stumbled upon something so beautiful. You took a sip of the bourbon, hoping Bucky would find you again before the sun disappeared behind the buildings because you hated the thought of him missing something as incredible as this.

Leaning against the railings, you took a moment to get lost in the sunset. But then, a few minutes later, a hand settled on your shoulder that made your heart jump enough to nearly drop your glass onto the patio floor.

You shrieked, hand clutching to your heart as you steadied the glass in your hand to find Jack holding his hands up defensively at his sides. Your eyes went wide, jaw clenching, and you cursed yourself for even thinking you could get through this wedding without ever having to talk to him.

“It’s good to see you, Y/n,” Jack grinned, eyes falling up and down your figure and you found yourself crossing your arms over your chest, keeping your glass close to your lips because you’d surely need another sip soon. He smirked though his eyes were cold. “You look good.”

“You, too,” you said awkwardly, looking around at the scenery to avoid his eyes. “Congratulations, by the way. Lena is stunning.”

Jack nodded, hands slipping into his pockets as he glanced back into the reception area. “Yeah, she is, isn’t she?”

You swallowed nervously, tapping your foot and silently begging Bucky to find you before you made a complete fool of yourself.

Jack took a step closer to you, staring down at you from his height like a hawk stalking prey. You realized then, that he always made you feel owned, powerless. He didn’t love you in the way you thought he did, the way you so naively thought he was capable of. It wasn’t until you met Bucky that you got even a glimpse of what it felt like to truly be wanted, to be enjoyed, and you’d only known him for a day. He taught you more about what it meant to love someone than Jack did in three years.

“I didn’t think you’d come, actually,” Jack said with a shrug, “after how badly you took the breakup and all.”

You clenched your jaw so tight your muscles ached within seconds. You remembered that day well; with the tears streaming down your face and his cold, hard demeanor as he watched you beg him to stay without an ounce of remorse. You never thought you’d survive that night, but you had, and you did, and you still were, and maybe you were finding a way to forget it.

“I saw you run out of the ceremony, you know,” he said slowly, his hand pushing out to run along your arm and you shivered involuntarily, both revolted by his touch and unable to walk away. “I know you’re still in love with me, baby. It’s okay to admit it.”

You shook your head, “no, I—I'm--”

“You don’t have to lie to me, Y/n,” Jack purred, his hand snaking up into your hair and cupping your cheek. Your breaths were uneven, shaken, and you didn’t have the strength to pull away. Whether it was because of his lingering power over you or the fact that you were outside in the dark, alone with him that forced you still, you didn’t know.

“I’m not--”

“You don’t have to make up some fake boyfriend to get my attention.” Jack brushed his thumb over your mouth and you closed your eyes, unwilling to watch the way he licked at his own lips in the movement. “We both know that you won’t do better than me, baby. I was your best option. You’ll have to find a way to accept that I’ve found mine and... it wasn’t you.”

Your jaw was quivering. He had you exactly where you were three years ago. Lost. Insecure. Broken. The amber liquid in your glass was rippling as your hand trembled.

“There you are, sweetheart! I was looking everywhere for you,” Bucky’s voice carried out into the patio in rush of relief as you quickly stepped away from Jack’s hold on your face. Wearing a bright smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes, Bucky jogged out to meet you and tossed his arm around your waist, tugging you close enough to press a kiss to your cheek that drew a gasp from your lungs.

Jack narrowed his eyes suspiciously on Bucky. “You must be ‘the boyfriend.’” He wasn’t convinced.

“That’s me,” Bucky grinned, pulling you tighter against him, protectively. “Listen man, the ceremony was beautiful but I gotta apologize for sneaking out mid-way through.”

Your eyes widened, heart jumping, as Jack furrowed his brow. You had no idea where Bucky was going with this and you were terrified to find out. You tried stepping on his foot, pinching his side, but he pressed on, urged by the scowl Jack was sending in your direction.

“You know how it is when you see your girl all dolled up and you just can’t keep your hands off her,” Bucky shrugged casually and though you could tell it was an act, Jack couldn’t. He would have laughed it off it was any other woman, but it was you, and he certainly didn’t believe for a second that Bucky could feel that way about you.

“Church or not,” Bucky continued, “I just couldn’t keep myself together. Thought I was gonna lose it if I couldn’t have her right then. But I’m sure you remember how it is.”

Jack nodded tensely though he was lying through his teeth. He never wanted you in the way Bucky was describing and you could feel your heart breaking at the thought that no one ever would. Bucky was acting, playing the part he assigned for himself earlier in the evening when he was talking to Marci just to spare you from the humiliation of admitting how truly pathetic you were. He couldn’t possibly be serious, couldn’t actually want those things. Hell, he hardly knew you.

You had to remind yourself again and again that you’d only known Bucky a day and not a lifetime, because it sure as hell felt like an eternity.

“Have a nice night man and congrats,” Bucky said, voice a little flatter, harder. He looked over to the sunset and down to you as he softened. “I’m gonna spend some time with my girl now, if you don’t mind.”

“Yeah, okay,” Jack grumbled, stealing one last look at you before disappearing back into the ballroom.

The second Jack was out of sight, your whole body relaxed. You expected Bucky to jump away from you, shake his hands off awkwardly, but he didn’t budge. He kept his arm draped around your waist, glaring back in Jack’s direction as he mingled with guests beyond the double doors.

“Sorry about all that, doll,” Bucky sighed nervously. “I just saw him touching you like that and how uncomfortable you were and with the bullshit he was saying... I just had to do something.”

You nodded, though you couldn’t meet his eye. Bucky’s hand brushed up against your cheek in startling contrast to the way Jack had touched you, with such a tenderness that his fingertips just barely grazed against your skin. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to yours, closing his eyes and sighing gently.

“You’re worth so much more than what he says,” Bucky exhaled, holding you gingerly against him. He believed what he said, that much you could tell, but you couldn’t stop the thoughts racing in the back of your mind telling you that he was wrong, that he was naïve and making you out to be something you’re not, into a whirlwind fantasy of a girl he met in an airport at midnight. You couldn’t be that forever.

“Bucky, you don’t even know me,” you mumbled defeatedly and you could feel Bucky’s thumb brushing over your cheekbone, the clench in his own jaw at your words.

“You really believe that?” he whispered, his breath touching your lips. “You think it takes months or years to know how you feel about someone? I don’t need time to know I like you, to know you’re a good person and you deserve someone who cares about you, not—not someone who’s going to spend years putting you down and making you feel like you don’t matter. You matter, Y/n. You matter to me.”

Tears were welling in your eyes but you pushed them back. “You’ve only known me a day--”

“Then imagine how it’ll be in a week or a month, if you’ll let me stick around,” Bucky smiled, so incredibly sincere and it made your heart flutter. “I meant what I said. I had hoped you’d call. I was thinking I could take you out on a real date and show you this spot in Brooklyn I think you’d like in the park surrounded by flowers and this tiny little vender with the thickest Italian accent you’ll ever hear in your life.”

You laughed a bit at that before you realized and Bucky pressed his lips to your forehead, soft and warm and aching close.

“I never thought you’d call so soon, but believe me when I say I’m happy that you did,” Bucky continued, wrapping both of his arms around your shoulders as you tucked your face against his neck, inhaling the warmth of his scent. He sighed, adjusting his stance but not lessening his hold on you for anything. “I got to see you all dressed up and impress you with my best friend’s suit. Plus, did you see the look on Jack’s face? That asshole finally saw what he was missing out on.”

“That’s sweet, Bucky, but I think he’s just bitter he can’t control me the way he used to,” you shrugged, arms circling around his waist. Cheek pressed to his chest, you listened to the tender thumps of his heartbeat as you gazed out at the stunning array of colors lighting up the sky.

“Who cares what he thinks,” Bucky concluded and you could hear the soft laugh in his voice. He pulled you back after a moment, smiling at you and brushing the crease from your cheek earned from the fold of his lapel. “Can we get out of here now?”

“Yeah, I’m done putting myself through hell,” you nodded, taking his hand as he extended it to you, leading you back into the ballroom to escape through the front door.

You walked past Jack and Lena as they stood by the cake, ready to cut the first slice, and Jack’s eyes followed you across the ballroom as you trailed behind Bucky, narrowed and bitter. You only pursed your lips at him, the smile not reach your eyes as you gave a subtle wave and followed Bucky out the door.

Marci was lingering in the hallway and she parted her lips to say something but Bucky held up a hand, silencing her before she could speak.

“Sorry Mary, we’re heading out,” Bucky waved and her whole face scrunched up in anger as she grumbled her name under her breath. You burst into laughter as Bucky turned over his shoulder to wink at you as he threw open the double doors, leading you out into the cold, crisp air.

You might have expected for him to drop your hand the moment you were free from the lingering stares of Jack and Marci, but he didn’t. He held it firm in his own as he led you down the sidewalk, amongst the busy nightlife and under the blanket of dark blue freckled in stars.

A chill swept up your spine and Bucky only released your hand for a moment to shrug his jacket off his shoulders and swing it around yours.

“You don’t have to do that,” you said quickly, though the warmth of it and the smell of him flooding your senses make it incredibly difficult to object. Bucky shook his head, helping you slide your arms into the sleeves and though it draped loosely around you, he smiled like you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

“I’ve got long sleeves and pants, doll,” Bucky chuckled, grabbed your hand again and swinging it by his side as he kept pace, “and you have neither. I’m good.”

“Only if you’re sure,” you mumbled, snuggling into the jacket and leaning just a few inches closer to him with every step.

“Oh, I’m definitely sure. Might let you keep it and everything. Looks better on you than it ever did on me.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I thought you side this was your friend’s suit.”

“Steve won’t mind,” he shrugged with a grin. “The guy’s about twice his own size by now. He wore this back in his transition phase between being a twig and full-blown Adonis. I doubt he could fit into it these days.”

“It’s such a good color on you, Bucky, I’d hate to miss the opportunity to see you in it again,” you teased, surprised by the confidence in your own voice and for the first time, Bucky nearly choked on his own words.

“Yeah, well I guess you’ll have to return it to me next time, then.” He beamed at you and though it was dark and he was barely illuminated by the light of the streetlamps, you could see the slight flush in his cheeks.

You walked with Bucky nearly ten minutes before he pulled you to a slow stop in front of an ice-cream shop with stickers in the windows and two teenagers sitting on the counter, talking to one another with cell phones in their hands and bright red t-shirts displaying the name of the shop across the back.

“This was my plan in the event you wanted to ditch,” Bucky explained, pulling you up to the counter. “Google has it at 4.6 stars so it better be just-went-to-an-ex's-wedding-and-he's-still-a-huge-fucking-asshole good.”

You laughed, shoving Bucky’s shoulder and the teenagers behind the counter must have caught onto your presence. One came jumping up to the counter with blonde hair thrown in a messy bun on the top of her head and rows of hair ties on her wrist. She grinned at Bucky before glancing back at her friend. You laughed under your breath, knowing this would just have to be something to get used to if Bucky was really going to stick around. You were working on believing him.

“I’ll take a Rocky Road, and,” he turned to you, “what do you want, doll?”

“Mint chocolate chip,” you answered, clinging onto his arm and watching excitedly as the girl in the back of the shop started to scoop.

It had been ages since you’d been to a small ice cream shop like this, run by local teenagers at absence hours and has probably been around for decades. There wasn’t even anywhere to sit but you figured it had to be good if it was still standing amongst all the hipster joints and cafes.

Bucky paid for the ice cream before you could even notice and he handed you your cone with a grin. You pouted at him and took the cone gratefully. It was cold on your teeth as you licked around the sides, but it was perfection. Definitely worth those 4.6 stars. Might even be fall-in-love-with-the-handsome-stranger-at-the-airport good.

“Thank you,” you said as you went in for another scoop, lapping up the melting drips as it threatened to slip down your hand. Bucky watched you amusingly, chuckling sweetly as he gestured to a bench sitting facing a small park.

As you sat down, Bucky’s arm draped around your shoulders over the back of the bench. He settled in next to you and you found yourself scooting closer to him. You sat in silence together, just watching the birds at the played in the tiny fountain a few feet away and giggling as Bucky tried to avoid getting chocolate stains on his white shirt. You took your last bite and wiped the edges of your lips with your napkin, looking up to Bucky to find he had finished too.

“You have a bit of, um,” you laughed nervously as he furrowed his brow. Stretching up, you licked the edge of your thumb before you brought it to the corner of his lips, swiping at the chocolate on his cheek. Bucky bit his lip, face heating slightly as he watched you, though once the chocolate was gone, you made no effort to pull away.

“Thanks,” he sighed, like a plea in his voice giving you the courage you needed and you surged forward, capturing his lips in your own.

It didn’t take more than a second for Bucky to respond as your hands cupped at his cheeks, drawing him closer and his arms snaked around your waist. His lips were cold, tasting of chocolate and almonds that only intensified as he parted his lips further, his tongue sweeping at your own and you choked back a moan. His hands roamed around your hips, gentle and longing, and holding you as close as he could manage because even with your lower lip between his own, it wasn’t enough.

But then, the sharp ring of his phone echoed through the park, startling you enough to force you to jump back, panting, lips swollen in the kiss and Bucky groaned. He sent you an apologetic grimace as he glanced down at the caller ID, his whole body slumping as he lifted it to his ear.

“Hey ma,” Bucky answered, his voice already drained in the effort. “’Course I’ll be there. Why would you think I’d back out?... Does she know yet?... I’m trying my best here ma but I can’t guarantee she’ll--... No, you don’t understand I’m--… Yeah, okay. See you tomorrow.”

Bucky hung up the phone, a dejected look on his face as he slid it back into his pocket. “I really wish she would have chosen just about any other moment to call.”

You smiled, leaning forward to kiss his cheek and he started to relax a little.

“You helped me forget about tomorrow for a while,” he said, rubbing his hand over your thigh. “Don’t know the last time anyone was able to get me out of my own head. Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Buck,” you whispered sincerely. “You’re the one that crashed the wedding. You showed up all on your own. Didn’t even invite you or anything.”

Bucky laughed, drawing the crinkles by his eyes and the warm-hearted smile you adored. He sighed, letting out a heavy exhale before he spoke again, though he kept his gaze straight ahead. “Do you think—Is there any way you’d want to-- Would you maybe--”

“Yes,” you answered quickly, not even having to take a second to think. He turned to you with wide eyes, surprised. “Yes, Bucky, I’ll go with you. You helped me through today, didn’t you? You made an unbearable situation... fun. I know it’s not the same and I know this is family and it’s fragile, but if you want some support, if you want someone to hold your hand and remind you that you’re incredibly selfless and strong and kind and that under it all, your sister still loves you, no matter what happens, I’m there.”

“You’d do that?” His voice was so small, insecure and lost and you wondered if that was how you sounded to him when you talked about Jack. Broken, hurting. It tore at your heart.

“Absolutely,” you replied, grabbed his hand and pulling him back to his feet. “Come on, now. It’s almost two in the morning. We should get you back to your place before the sun rises if you want to look presentable for this graduation.”

Bucky nodded, dragging his feet playfully as you tugged him towards the road, waving for a taxi. On your first try, a yellow cab pulled up by the curb and you winked at him. He shook his head in awe.

“I ever tell you how happy I am it was you I met in Charlotte?”

“You might have mentioned it,” you shrugged with a grin.

Bucky opened the door for you and gestured for you to slide in but you shook your head.

“My hotel’s right here, actually,” you said pointing to the building across the street. The cab driver started fussing the in the front and Bucky slipping a few dollars through his window just to wait. The was a slight panic in his face, like he wasn’t ready for the night to end so soon.

“Text me the address and when to meet you,” you said, grabbing his hand and playing with the lifelines on his palm. “I’ll be there, Bucky. I promise you aren’t alone in this. I’m with you.”

He nodded quickly, trying to convince himself. The seamless transitions between this flirty, teasing man with confidence unlike anything you’d ever seen and the shy, insecure guy with a guilt complex the size of Brooklyn was baffling to watch, but he was pieces of a whole. He was both at once.

You leaned up onto the tops of your toes and pressed a quick kiss to his lips; soft, chaste, and gone before he had the chance to deepen it. You smiled at him, gently shoving him down into the taxi as the cab driver started to grumble under his breath again.

“Tomorrow,” you promised and Bucky nodded. Kissing the back of your hand as you slowly pulled away.

“Tomorrow,” he agreed and let you close the door. You watched from your spot on the sidewalk as the taxi pulled out into the empty road and waited until it disappeared from view.

Once he was gone, you quickly made your way across the street to your hotel, giving a slight wave to the hostess behind the counter. In your room, you shrugged off Bucky’s jacket and hung it up on a hanger from the closet, pressing out the wrinkles and examining it for any drips of light green ice-cream. Then, you changed into your pajamas, wiped your face of makeup and climbed into fresh linen sheets.

To your left, your phone buzzed on the nightstand. You picked it up to find a single text.

I’m with you, too.

You held your phone to your chest, smiling so wide it ached in your cheeks. You fell asleep a few minutes later, the phone still clutched in your hand. Bucky’s light blue jacket hanging in the closet.

--

To believe I walk alone Is a lie that I've been told So let your heart hold fast For this soon shall pass Like the high tide takes the sand [Let Your Heart Hold Fast – Fort Atlantic]

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