#this latest request had my mind blown and i fucking loved it

[fear-is-truth]

gentle reminder:

please never feel the need to apologise for your requests, even if you think they're 'awful' or 'stupid.' because guess what? they’re not. i adore every single one of them, and it means a lot to me that you trust me with your amazing ideas. if anything, i’m the one who should apologise for not being able to write them down as quickly as i'd like to. know that your requests are greatly valued and important to me!! ♡

[eternalsa2z]

Costumes Games

So my doll Zoey was progressing well on her path to being the perfect little bimbo. But there were some bumps in the process...and not the nice silicone kind that we wanted. She was a bit resistant to some of the more extreme changes. Questioning why we need to try this, upgrade that, dress this way. Overthinking was getting in the way of her happiness.

Luckily I discovered that she loved games and dressing up in costumes. I decided to put together a little training exercise where I would text her a simple phrase and she would have 30 minutes to dress up in a matching outfit and send me the results. At first I started simple. But eventually the costumes would push her deeper into her desired mind and body.

"Dressed To Kill"

The first attempt had mixed results. She took the message literally, going for a slasher look with a full mask. Obviously that was not ideal, but I was pleased to note the way she stuck out her ass in the short leotard. I simply told her that the real 'horror' part of the look was that she covered up her breasts and pretty face. I could tell she was blushing under the mask...hopefully the hint would sink in later.

"Bunny"

The second phrase had the desired affect. She could've gone with a Lola Bunny cosplay or a more modest bunny costume. But I was pleased to see she went for the full-blown sexy playboy bunny outfit. Sure she was a little shy, especially when I told her I loved her looking like 'my little fuck bunny'. But the way her tail quivered told me she was enjoying it.

"Schoolgirl"

She was faster to send a photo this time. Probably because the choice was a simple and short as the uniform she dressed up in. Zoey's pouty face and eye-rolling expression seemed to indicate she disapproved of the request I made. But I didn't tell her to put on those sexy fishnets. Or pull her short skirt up so much her white panties were visible. I didn't even ask her to show off her new fake tits she agreed to get after telling her it'd enhance her costumes. She chose that. It was a sign the training was working...but this schoolgirl still had more to learn.

"Dressed To Kill"

As a test I texted her an old phrase out of the blue, telling her she had 15 minutes before I would be home to take her out to eat. I wanted to test her progress and set the expectation that she should be ready to dress up anytime, anywhere. She spent two minutes complaining but eventually sent me this pic right as I was pulling into the driveway.

It was such an improvement. She looked sleeker and sexier than last time. Her recently enhanced ass still sticking out and her tits definitely not covered by the top of that tight dress. Sure she was covering her face again, probably because she was worried that this outfit wasn't technically a costume. But I kissed her and once I told her she was dressed as 'a trophy wife' then she happily put herself on full display at the restaurant.

"Pet"

Eventually the costumes requests came quicker, with a shorter deadline, and with more vague prompts. I wanted Zoey to not even think. To instinctively react and pick something sexy. It turned out purrrrectly with her latest choice. It took her five minutes to throw on this leopard print leotard complete with cute cat ears. When I asked my doll why she went with that look, she just stared at me blankly like the answer was obvious. "Because I'm your little sex kitten..."

"Pumpkin"

The last thing to work on was the mental side of things. I tried to dumb down my doll by disorienting her with odd costume requests. Since there's nothing sexy about a big round orange gourd, I was hoping she'd impulsively pick something 'cute as a pumpkin' or to highlight her big, fake, silicone-enhanced pumpkins. But this time it was my doll who surprised me.

It took her minutes to get into this getup. She looked a little befuddled, like she wasn't even sure what she was, but whatever she chose she looked great. I though her sexy little cowgirl / farmer outfit with pumpkins in the background was a great idea. She said it was because she wanted to ride me cowgirl style in the costume allllll night. That made it an even better costume idea!

"Birthday suit"

Finally it was clear that the games had worked. Zoey was a blank, busty, instinctive bimbo doll who could pick out an outfit faster than she could compute that 2 + 2 = 5. To celebrate, I wanted to get her naked. But I should have expected my silly little ditz to not quite understand the assignment.

"Ummm...like...I wasn't sure why you wanted me to wear a suit?" she responded, looking confused and thus very cute. "So I just baked you a pretty birthday cake in my sexy robe! Would you like to rub the frosting over my titties and lick it off later tonight?"

Like Zoey, I didn't even have to think. I told her of course...and that she didn't need to include the robe. It was the one outfit I didn't need her to put on this time. Because she had finally become the perfect bimbo doll we both always wanted her to be.

[robbyswayzekeenes]

badass━ demetri (cobra kai) imagine

demetri x badass fem! reader 

requested by @klt123456​

i hope you like it! just a lil demetri with his badass gf and some making out in the dojo :))

It wasn’t uncommon for there to be competition between high school students. Typically, any teenagers would be warring over who was the most popular, or the most attractive, but something you never tended to find high school students fighting over was who was the toughest. Then again, West Valley High wasn’t like any other high school. Since karate had infested the Valley like it was 1980, people had been changing. It was no longer about who dated who, and who fucked who-- no, the priority was now who could whip the other in a full-blown karate fight. And whilst there was a lot of competition for the top spot; whether it was Tory, or Hawk, or Miguel, and sure, they were all in the running. But everyone knew that the toughest kid at West Valley High was Y/N L/N.

The h/c didn’t look like much. (Your height) and seemingly harmless, she was anything but intimidating. If anyone were to suggest to an outsider that she was the toughest kid in the Valley, they would be ridiculed, especially when compared to Eli’s mohawk or Tory’s resting bitchface. But the thing that made Y/N really badass compared to any of the cobra’s or anyone at Miyagi-Do is that, whilst had been training in karate for a year or so, the girl had been fighting competitively since she was eight.

Red Tigers Karate was the only dojo left in the Valley until Johnny Lawrence brought back Cobra Kai. It had started back in the 80s and was the only one left after they all closed down. It wasn’t particularly busy, not like the rush of people Cobra Kai had received after Miguel’s fight in the cafe, but Y/N had been fighting there since she was a kid. Karate was always the best way for the girl to relieve anger, and now everyone was doing it. Despite the different styles, it was no competition that she was by far the best. She wasn’t defensive and passive like the style taught at Miyagi-Do, and she wasn’t all aggressive and merciless like Sensei Lawrence taught at Cobra Kai. The girl’s karate style was the perfect combination of offence and defence, which made her practically unbeatable. Y/N was badass as shit. And everyone knew it.

Demetri was the opposite of badass. Lanky and skinny, with gimpy, out of proportion limps, karate was definitely not his strong suit. He’d taken many beatings, even before karate came back to the Valley, and for a while, these beatings were even coming from his best friend, Eli. Sure, he’d had his victories in karate, for instance, when he had kicked Hawk into the trophy case during the school fight, but all in all, he had not had many successes when it came to karate. However, Demetri’s biggest success was somehow winning the heart of the biggest badass at school; Y/N L/N herself.

The pair had somehow become friends in school, despite the dark haired boy being very much terrified of her. And from there, their friendship had blossomed into a beautiful relationship, and the pair were both incredibly happy, despite the fact that Demetri had no idea how he’d ended up with someone so far out of his league. Since the karate war had started, Y/N had begun training more and more at Miyagi-Do, helping Daniel train the students, and now, after Kreese’s latest attack, helping Johnny Lawrence and the former Cobra Kai’s learn to fight in a style that wasn’t all offence. Today, whilst Daniel and Johnny were outside separately training Miguel and Sam in order to prepare them for the tournament, Y/N was playing a little game.

“Okay,” The h/c grinned, hopping onto the mat and getting in her stance. “Let’s play a sparring game. Winner stays on. I’ll start.” Demetri could see the mischievous twinkle in his girlfriend’s eye, but of course the new members of Miyagi-Do were not aware of the girl’s capabilities. “I’ll take you on,” Mitch had said with a cocky smirk, and the boy was flat on his back in less than ten seconds. Y/N pushed one strand of h/c hair from her face, winking at Demetri who was trying overly hard not to look impressed. “Who’s next?” The girl grinned, exhaling sharply as at least five new sets of eyes marvelled at her. This was the first time the combined dojos had seen each other fight, and they wouldn’t be the first to underestimate the seemingly innocent girl.

“Alright, Y/N, I’ll take you on,” Hawk said, stepping forwards, his scar twitching as his face twisted in determination. The red haired boy climbed onto the mat, and though he would never admit it to his girlfriend, Demetri was worried for her. He knew full well what he was capable of, and he had the scar on his arm to prove it. However, the brown eyed boy was wrong to doubt, as in thirty seconds, Y/N had Eli in a pin. “I win,” The girl breathed, one of her h/c strands falling from her bun. Eli got up with a huff and walked to the edge of the mat again, taking his spot next to Demetri.

As training went on, Y/N took every student on, working her way around everyone except Demetri and every time being victorious. “Holy fuck, she is badass,” Bert breathed after being thrown to the floor less than five seconds. He was the penultimate student, and still no one had managed to beat Y/N. Demetri let out a steady breath as he knew the time had come for him to get his ass handed to him by his girlfriend, and certainly not for the first time. Hawk smirked playfully before whispering to his best friend; “If it took her thirty seconds to get me down, I reckon she’ll have you in three.” “Actually, last time it was two,” Chris chimed in, earning a playful laugh from the others which caused Demetri to blush. However, it was at this moment that Sensei LaRusso chose to step into the dojo alongside Sensei Lawrence.

“Training’s finished for today, guys,” Daniel spoke, and Demetri was hesitant to let out a sigh of relief. As much as he loved Y/N, he would rather not have his ass kicked in front of the other teens, even if she had done the same to the rest of them. “You got lucky, Met,” Chris grinned, clapping the dark haired boy on the back as they began to file out the dojo. “Great training today, guys.” The h/c haired girl smiled, though Demetri’s brown eyes caught the mischievous glint in her e/c ones, and his eyebrows raised. “Sensei, if you don’t mind, I wanna train with Demetri a little longer. We didn’t get to finish today.” As soon as those words escaped her lips, the boy knew he was screwed. “Sure thing, Y/N. Thanks for all your help. It’s good to have someone round here who knows karate but also knows what it’s like to be a teenager.” “No problem,” The girl smiled, her eyes meeting Demetri’s with a smirk. “Yeah, and it’s good to have someone round here who’s an actual badass, too,” Sensei Lawrence chimed in, earning a disapproving look from Daniel. “I”m badass as fuck, I’ll have you know,” The man argued, and Y/N chuckled, closing the dojo doors and forcing the men to take their childish bickering somewhere else.

Demetri exhaled deeply as his girlfriend turned to face him. “Didn’t think you were getting out of a fight, did you?” The girl asked with a smile, causing the boy to roll his eyes. “Gee, anyone would think my girlfriend enjoyed kicking my ass.” “Maybe I do,” Y/N grinned cheekily before pressing a chaste kiss to the tall boy’s lips. “Now come on, in your stance.” Reluctantly, Demetri planted his feet and lifted up his guard, quirking an eyebrow at the girl who adjusted her hair where it sat atop her head before saying; “Ready? Hajime.” The h/c pounced forward, throwing a kick to Demetri’s head which he barely managed to block. She then threw one, two, three consecutive punches, but the boy shielded them all. She’s going easy on me, Demetri decided as not one of her shots landed. Scoffing slightly, the dark haired boy threw a feeble punch, but it was intercepted. “Come on, Demetri. You can fight better than that.” “So can you,” He pointed out, causing Y/N to smirk. The girl threw another kick, but he blocked it with the palm of his hand and retaliated with the same kick. A stupidly predictable move, even when she was taking it easy.

Y/N caught the kick under her arm, leaving the boy fighting for balance as she rotated their stance before forcing Demetri backwards, never letting go of his leg. His back hit the wall of the dojo with a crash, and the boy winced slightly. “Oops,” The h/c said, but she didn’t seem at all apologetic. “That was technically not a karate move,” The pedantic boy pointed out as Y/N finally let his leg drop to the floor and stepped inside his guard. “Neither is this,” She whispered, taking the collar of his shirt and pulling him down into a bruising kiss. Demetri was quick to reciprocate, much happier to be kissing his girlfriend than fighting her. Y/N’s hands snaked up to the boy’s dark hair as they continued to kiss, Demetri’s back pressed against the dojo wall. His hands slotted themselves inside the gaps of the girl’s vest top, setting them on her bare waist and making her shiver. “This,” Demetri mumbled in between kisses, “Is much better than fighting.” “We both know I could still beat you at this,” Y/N responded, pulling herself even closer to the boy so that their chests were flushed together. The two continued to kiss until they heard the opening slide of the dojo door, and hurriedly jumped apart.

“What are you- really, guys?” Sensei Lawrence asked as he stood in the doorway, his eyebrows raised. “Sensei,” Y/N breathed, though it’s not like either of them could deny it with their bruised lips and Demetri’s messy hair. “I don’t wanna know,” He interrupted, before glancing at Demetri; “Good going, kid.” The boy blushed a deep red as Johnny went on. “I won’t tell Daniel if you won’t.” Both teens nodded aggressively, knowing full well how Mr LaRusso felt about kids making out in his dojo. “But if you’re gonna fuck, at least clean the mat afterwards.”

[yoonsshadow]

BLIZZARD BLUES ⎯ myg

⇰ summary ; There’s a storm coming. Literally. And some idiot is standing outside singing Christmas carols.

⇰ pairing ; yoongi x fem!reader

⇰ genres ; strangers to friends to lovers[?], snowstorm!au, romance, fast burn [?]

⇰ themes ; fluff, a bit of crack

⇰ warnings ; talk of a natural disaster [blizzard], lots of banter, brief talk of male genitalia [balls lol], a bunch of sweetness

⇰ word count ; 1.8k

⇰ note ; Happy holidays everybody!! I hope that you all have a safe and happy day, no matter what you are celebrating. [Also this is largely unedited.] xx

It doesn’t always snow on Christmas Eve. Sometimes, when the sky feels selfish, it will open its clouds and welcome through the sunlight, especially harsh against the previous snowfall that is melting on the ground. What was once a white wonderland, snowflakes clustered together in a fine powder, becomes a muddy expanse of grass, dampened by the flowing tears of the melted icicles.

The magic of Christmas, so often associated with the pure white sheen of snowfall, is gone within hours of a clear sky.

But not today.

Today, the sky is selfish in a very distinctly opposite way.

“Temperatures will be reaching a record-low tonight, and snowfall is expected to only get heavier. With the possibility of a blizzard on the way, citizens are urged to stay indoors tonight.”

“Aish.” Licking droplets of mulled wine from your lips, you sigh at the latest news update. Just yesterday, you had been complaining of the warmth in the air, expecting yet another disappointment out of Christmas Eve. The universe seems to have answered your pessimism with a natural disaster.

Thankfully, you are one of the many lucky ones with a roof over your head tonight. The townhouse is small by standard means, but it feels so big to you. Though it may be cosy, it holds everything that is important to you, every memory that you have collected over your life, every momentum that has ever brought you joy. It is an extension of yourself, of your innermost being, and now it even protects you from the howling wind that you can hear picking up outside.

As you sit in front of your roaring fireplace, wrapped in blankets and listening to the Michael Bublé christmas album play on your scratchy record player, you think that maybe this is serenity; this feeling of calm, of contentment, when chaos surrounds you.

A harsh knock at your front door breaks through the sound of the wind.

At first, you think that maybe it was a trick of the mind, or perhaps a branch hitting a window, but the rapid knock-knock-knock against the wood is far too deliberate to be a mistake. Plus, when it’s followed by several more⎯⎯less patient⎯⎯knocks, you know that someone is here. At your house. At ten o’clock at night, as a blizzard is brewing.

It takes a moment to detangle yourself from your comfortable cocoon of blankets, but you eventually shuffle to the door as quickly as your cold toes [the things just never seem to be warm] will allow. You’re expecting an emergency official telling you to evacuate, or a neighbour asking to borrow supplies.

You don’t expect a shivering, disgruntled man reluctantly singing ‘Oh Christmas Tree’.

“Your boughs so green in summertime...stay bravely green in wintertime...O tannenbaum, O Christmas Tree...How lovely are thy branches…”

“Are you seriously carolling right now?”

The man stops his ‘singing’ to glare at you, as if you’ve just interrupted the most important performance of his life. “Hey, either let me finish the song or let me move on. It’s fucking cold out here.”

“No, but like, why are you singing at all? Didn’t you see the news?” The chill of the wind is biting at you even through all of your layers, so you don’t know how he’s surviving right now.

The man sighs, the air fogging in front of his face. “Look, lady, I lost a bet, okay? I gotta sing these carols, and I’m not backing out just because it feels like my internal organs are shutting down. So, what’ll it be? I can take song requests, if you’re feeling spicy.”

It takes you barely a moment to make your decision. “Option C. Come here.”

And you all but drag him into your house.

“Y’know, this could be considered kidnapping,” the stranger says as he slides out of his soaked jacket and toes off his boots. Despite his words, he doesn’t seem at all reluctant to be within your warm abode. “You could at least take me to dinner before inviting me in.’

His voice sounds harsh, mean even, but for some reason you aren’t intimidated by him. Maybe it’s the way his nose shines pink from the cold.

“Well,” you say, already gathering some towels for him, “it seems as though you haven’t watched the news in the last three hours. There’s a blizzard on the way, buddy, and you looked about halfway to frozen already. I thought that I would save the neighbours the trauma of digging your body out of the snow.”

“How considerate.”

“What’s your name, by the way? Since I’m extending my home and hospitality to you. I’m Y/N.”

“Yoongi. Also, you barely extended anything. More like forced. But, I’m a kind man, so I’ll let you believe that you’re being selfless. It is Christmas, after all.”

“And a merry Christmas to you too, mister Yoongi.”

“Ugh. Don’t call me mister.”

“Whatever. You should go take a shower to warm up, I should have some of my dad’s clothes for you to wear. I also have a shit-tonne of blankets and a big pot of mulled wine, so whenever you’re done just come downstairs and sit by the fire. And don’t steal anything. Or piss on the carpets.”

“Oddly specific, but okay. Thanks, generous kidnapper.”

Yoongi takes nearly an hour before he re-emerges from upstairs, to the point where you wonder if he’s actually pissing in your carpets. He looks clean, though, and flushed with warmth. And absolutely adorable in the ugly, oversized Christmas sweater that you laid out for him.

“This is fucking horrendous.”

A snort escapes you at his blunt statement, watching as he sinks into an armchair opposite you. His hair is sticking out from where he’s hastily dried it. “Thank you. My dad is the reigning champion in his workplace ugly sweater competition. He takes immense pride in inducing nausea. Want some wine?”

“Absolutely.”

When you pass him a mug, the liquid steaming and aromatic, he seems to pause, hesitation in the grip of his fingers. You give him the time he needs to arrange his words.

“I guess, um...thank you. For bringing me inside.” Yoongi isn’t meeting your eyes, but the tips of his ears are turning pink. “I was probably too stubborn to realise how bad it was and...I don’t know, it could’ve ended up really bad. So. Thanks.”

“Hey.” His eyes flicker up, briefly, but enough to see the bashfulness hiding behind all that sarcasm. “It’s seriously fine, but you’ve got to make a habit out of taking care of yourself. I’ve known you for two hours and even I can tell that you don’t take yourself very seriously. Hell, I could’ve been a serial killer, and you still just walked into my house.”

“I could’ve been a serial killer as well, hypocrite.”

“Killer Caroller does have a certain ring to it,” you admit. He’s deflecting, but you accept the divergence easily. “So, mister serial killer-”

“Don’t call me mister.”

“-Why don’t you tell me about yourself? There’s a chance that you’ll be here for a little while, so we may as well become acquainted.”

Taking a lingering sip from his mug, Yoongi keeps his eyes trained on the fire before him. “My name is Yoongi, I’m a Pisces, and I enjoy long walks on the beach.”

“Romantic.”

“I was born in Daegu.”

“Makes sense.”

“I’m a music producer.”

“Impressive.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, though they hold more mirth than annoyance. “Oh, and what about you, miss charity? Tell me about yourself.”

Biting back a chuckle, you reposition yourself in the armchair to face him better. “Well, my name is Y/N, and I have never been to a beach.”

“That’s sad.”

“I take self-defense classes.”

“Convenient.”

“And I’m a social worker.”

“Very fitting.”

The quick banter between the two of you pulls a smile across your face before you can tamp it down, but it seems like Yoongi is fighting one of his own.

Somehow, you have both converged to your larger couch, huddled together in a wine-drunk, giggly mess.

“No, I seriously would’ve won! But then he totally caught me off guard. I was sabotaged.”

Yoongi’s recounting of the story of how he lost his bet is nothing short of hysterical. “This Jeongguk guy sounds like a menace,” you say, throwing your legs over his lap. “I mean, who swings their balls in a friend’s face just to distract them? That’s just low.”

“Right?!” His voice is so loud, but your little bubble is barely disturbed. “And they were all hairy, too. I swear that I found a pube in my hoodie.”

This sets you off, for some reason, and your chest erupts in light giggles. Yoongi has only told you a few stories about his six male friends, and it has filled you with a kind of joy that you don’t remember ever feeling.

“It’s just...I bet that women aren’t this immature with each other. Am I right?”

You hum. “Sort of, but also not really. A friend of mine once stole my diva cup just because she was mad at me for using her hair brush. I tried to explain that it was an accident, but man was she pissed.”

Yoongi pauses. “What’s a diva cup?”

Blinking at the man that you’re draped across, you bring a hand up to pat his soft cheek. “Oh, honey,” you whisper, offering a small smile.

Slowly but suddenly, his hand comes up to cover yours, keeping it on his face. Your heart skips a beat, but you don’t notice.

“You’re really nice,” he says. His pupils are blown from drinking, and maybe from your faces being so close. Your cheeks are flushed for the same reasons. “And totally not a serial killer.”

“I’m still undecided about you,” you joke, breathing out a laugh. “But I do know that you’re pretty nice, too. And not as bad of a guest as I thought you might be.”

“Is it-” Yoongi cuts himself off, takes a slow breath as he closes his eyes. When he opens them again, he seems determined, if a little nervous. “Is it weird if I say that I enjoy spending time with you? And would, maybe, want to spend more time with you in the future?”

A lazy grin stretches your cheeks as you tuck yourself a little closer to him. It’s peculiar, maybe, that you’ve just met a man that you feel you’ve known your whole life. Curious, perhaps, that conversation with him feels more natural than with most people you know.

But weird?

No, you don’t think so.

“No. Not weird.” You lean forward a bit, shyly; wait for him to maybe do the same. “You do owe me the rest of a Christmas carol, after all.

He does lean forward, just a bit, and just as shy.

[duker42]

May I perhaps request some punk!Levi x reader nsfw fluff please? You can pick the scenario~ ty for the chance

*****WARNING*****NSFW

💜Outward Appearances💜

He had that bad boy charm. The kind that got a girl wet from just imagining how bad he could be. His persona was only amplified by his outward appearance. The tattoos and piercings combined with the black jeans, combat boots and band t-shirts and his ‘Don’t Give a Fuck’ attitude made Levi Ackerman fucking appealing.

At least, Y/N thought so. She was sure that plenty of others had batted their lashes at the handsome man. All the piercings in the world couldn’t hide the startling silver blue eyes and the even features. His black hair screamed to be pulled while he was wrecking her, that lithe and muscular body doing wickedly delicious things to hers.

She wanted him, watched him from the corner of her eye as he worked, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he drew the latest piece that everyone would be clamoring for on their bodies.

He didn’t run a gun, he left that for his business partners. No, Levi was an artist to his very soul. His fingers created magic that his mind could conjure up. He had taken that and built a successful business with his friends. It didn’t hurt that his body was a canvas, a walking advertisement for Farlan’s skill with a tattoo gun.

She had been hired to schedule the appointments and man the front desk, for Levi and Farlan when Isabel was too far advanced in her pregnancy to stay at the shop all day. She and the bubbly red head had bonded, laughing easily as she had shown her the computer system and had given her some tips for working with her husband and her “brother” as she called Levi.

Her little crush had blown up into full on need. Her imagination taking over as she watched the muscles in his forearms flex as he sketched a new rough design, or the way his shirt pulled tight across his back as he walked around stretching from sitting in one position too long.

She knew that he probably had no interest in her. Figuring her too straight laced to even consider. She had no visible tattoos, something that was considerably odd for someone who worked in a tattoo shop. She didn’t even have piercings beyond the earrings she wore in her lobes.

Y/N was less decorated in the jewelry department, but Levi had his lower lip pierced on the side, a piercing in his eyebrow, another in his tongue, plus four in each ear. He didn’t gauge his ears, instead it was a lovely combination of studs and small hoops in his ears. She hadn’t missed the bars that poking through his tight t-shirts, indicating both nipples were pierced. There was no way he would ever be interested in a person like her.

~~~~~

Farlan’s call took less that five minutes. The sandy blonde had gone stark white as he stammered into his phone.

“I’ll be right there!.....No! Isabel, DO NOT THINK OF DRIVING YOURSELF TO THE HOSPITAL. I’m on my way.” His eyes were wide with wonder as he looked down at the screen as it went dark.

Levi grinned as he shoved his childhood friend, taking the tattoo gun out of his hand. “Go, dumb ass. She will try to drive herself if you don’t. I’ll finish up here.” He said, shoving him closer to the door.

Y/N handed him his jacket as she gave him a hug. “Go on Daddy! I can’t wait. Let us know how it goes, okay? I’ll come as soon as we close up.” She said, grinning at his dazed expression.

“S-she’s.....the...baby...” Farlan stumbled out of the shop, shaking his head before running to his car.

Levi shook his head as he looked down at the client, assessing where Farlan had left off. He clicked his tongue before pulling on a set of gloves and getting to work.

~~~~~

Y/N had called the last two clients scheduled and explained the situation and offering to let Levi fulfill the appointment. Both had been willing to reschedule, wanting Farlan to complete the work they had wanted. It allowed them to close the shop a few hours early since they did not take walk-ins unless it was for a consultation.

She swept the floors in the back room while Levi stood at the sink, meticulously cleaning the gun and preparing it for the sterilization machine it would bake in. She moved over to Levi’s drawing table, stopping when she caught sight of his latest creation. It was a beautiful mix of gothic and innocence. Skulls and roses intertwined, the vines holding the bones in place as it threaded up the page.

Levi snorted, drawing her attention. “What?” She asked, her head cocked to the side as she wondered what he found so funny.

“You.” The answer was short, much like the man.

“Me what?” Y/N demanded.

He set the gun in the machine and flipped the switch, the blue light coming on as the sterilization process started. He turned around and leaned against the counter.

“Acting like you’re interested in a tattoo.” He said, folding his arms over his chest and smirking at her.

She gaped at him like a fish as she tried to formulate a response.

“Like a good girl like you would ever be interested in something like that. You’re so straight laced it’s painful.” He scoffed.

“I-I have tattoos!” She exclaimed, wincing slightly at how defensive it came out.

He quirked an eyebrow as he pushed off the edge of the counter, stalking closer with an amused look in his slate eyes.

“Show me.” He demanded.

Y/N blushed as she looked down. “I’d have to...to pull down my pants.”

“And?” He asked nonchalantly. “Show me.”

He took the broom from her, setting it against the table as she gathered her nerves and reached for the band of her leggings. Thanking all the Gods in existence that she had gotten waxed the week prior and she had decided to wear some decidedly pretty underwear, she pulled them down to show the small rose tattoo that she had on her hipbone.

His chuckle was low and a bit condescending. “Oh yes a wild child.”

She turned around to show the ink on her lower back, right above the seam of her ass. A finger reached out to trace the slightly raised ink under her skin, making her jolt and spin back around.

He just moved his finger to the rose on her hip. “This is shit.” He said bluntly.

Y/N opened her mouth to argue, but he continued on.

“I could design something much better for your skin. Highlight the tone and let it stand out as a canvas.” The low words curled heat low in her belly as his finger drove her crazy as it traced the lines of the ink.

“What would you do?” She asked, unable to keep the slight breathlessness from her tone.

His hand yanked her legging down a bit more as he knelt down. Looking up at her, Y/N felt her heart skip a beat as mischief flashed in his eyes. His warm hand rested on the side of her thigh, right above her knee.

“Start here.” He said, squeezing gently before guiding it up to cover the front of her thigh. “It would cover your thigh; big, bright and beautiful.”

She let out a ragged breath, watching his hand on her, the ink covered hand a contrast to the smooth unblemished skin she had.

He shifted up slightly, his had on her hip, fingers curling around it rather possessively. “Coming up and covering this piece of shit with a real rose, in full bloom. So life like you can practically smell it.”

She couldn’t believe the purr in his voice, the low cadence was almost lover like as he stood and his hand slipped under her shirt. It grazed her flanks, making her shiver. “Vines trailing up your side, to curl up right here.” His fingers traced the edge of her bra, teasing the skin with light strokes as he watched her watching him.

Her breathing was rapid and shallow. She felt like her body was wax, melting slowly under the heat of his hand. Y/N couldn’t help her reaction to him, she had admired him for so long, fantasized about him too often to be calm with his hands on her.

Levi’s other hand tightened on her other hip, his eyes demanding as he stared into hers. The silent question passing between them, her answer in the small whimper she gave him.

He pulled her bra up in a smooth motion as he covered her breast with his warm palm. Y/N’s eyes closed as she arched up against him. He chewed on his lip ring for just a second, feeling her nipple pebble in his palm before leaning forward and kissing her.

She loved the feeling of his tongue rubbing against hers as he explored her mouth. The ball of the tongue ring making her shiver. She could just imagine how that would feel against her nipple or on her clit.

He backed her against the counter, lifting her up and sliding between her thighs after he had taken off her shoes and leggings. Her hand roamed under his shirt, lifting it up to expose the ink infused skin. Her mouth watered as he pulled back and lifted the shirt off with a smirk. The tattoos didn’t cover the fact that he was ripped. His hard muscles flexing and bunching under the skin as he leaned back in to kiss her again.

Her hands brushed over the bars through his nipples, his own shiver making her grin against his mouth. He pulled away to lift off her shirt and bra with a quick flick of his wrists, his mouth latching onto her collarbone as he nibbled his way down her chest.

Levi’s mouth on her breast was amazing, the ball of the tongue ring running over her nipple as he lapped at her. Her hands flew to his head and threaded into his hair. Her gasp filled the back room as he tugged on it before switching over to her neglected breast.

Her legs wrapped around him, tugging him closer. He growled against her as he rutted against her. The feeling of his hard cock pressed enticingly against her was enough to make her beg.

“Please.” She breathed, tugging on his hair hard. His fingers dug into her hips, slipping under her underwear and tugging them down and baring her to him.

He pulled away and looked down at the bare, wet folds of skin. His eyes darkened at how wet she was. “Next time. I’m going to taste you.” He growled.

Y/N went for his belt buckle. Her hands shaking slightly as she opened the buttons and slipped a hand inside to grip him. Her eyes widened as she felt something she hadn’t expected at all.

Levi grinned wickedly at her as he pushed his pants and boxers down, exposing the long curved length, a pierce tip with a curved bar in it. Her eyes were fixed on it as he took himself in hand and gave the stiff member a few pumps with his hand.

“Oh....” Y/N’s confidence faltered a bit as she started.

“Hey.” Her eyes flew up to his face. He gave her a serious look, comforting her. “It okay. It’ll feel good. It’s just a piercing. I can take it out.” He offered.

“No.” She shook her head.

“You want this, Y/N?” He asked quietly, moving closer to cup her face.

“Yes.” She breathed. “I want you.”

He leaned forward to kiss her, his hand around his cock as he rubbed it up and down her slit, wetting himself with her arousal. She moaned into his mouth, making his cock jump in his hand.

He nibbled her lip, biting down on it before releasing it with a groan. “I’ve wanted you for months. Since we hired you.”

Her hands froze as they traveled up his back, pulling back to look at him. His slight redness told her he was telling the truth. She yanked him back to her and kissed him passionately, pushing her hips forward to catch on the tip of his cock.

Levi’s hand flew to her hip as he snapped his hips forward, sheathing himself in her core in one hard thrust. Her head flew back, exposing the column of her throat that he attacked eagerly as he set a hard pace.

He hammered into her, the ball of the piercing pushing against her cervix and making her gasp with every thrust. He was making her see stars every time he pushed forward, her hips shifting forward to meet him.

He pulled her closer, pressing the cold steel of his nipple bars against her chest. His hands running up and down her back, urging her on as he kept thrusting with abandon. His grunts and slight groans against her ear making her tighten her legs around her, pulling him deeper into her.

“L-Levi.” His name poured off her tongue with a cry. Her body tightening as she bowed up. He gritted his teeth against the feeling of her cumming around him. He didn’t stop, actually moved faster as he pushed her harder over the edge of pleasure.

His own release tingling at the base of his spine. He hadn’t talked to her about birth control. Hadn’t even thought about a condom. Stupid and reckless, something he never was in sex, it was Y/N that clouded his mind and made him think of nothing else.

“G-gonna cum.” He panted, moving his hands to the counter, ready to push away.

“I-IUD.” Y/N gasped out, her hands moving down to grip his ass.

Levi groaned, loudly as he felt his body stiffen. His thrust deep as he poured himself into her, twitching with every pump of cum he released. “Fuuuuck.”

Y/N sighed as she felt him sag against her. His heavy breathing against her shoulder oddly sweet at she reached up and petted his hair. He might look like at bad boy from all outward appearances, but he was nothing but considerate to her.

He lifted his head up and leaned in for another kiss. “Lets go to the hospital and see the baby. Then I want to take you out for dinner.” He said, stealing kisses between words.

Bad boy punk....more like softy.

Mobile MasterList

[fizzyxcustard]

Fear and Loathing (1)

Fandom: seaQuest 2032

Summary: (Part 2 of The Right Thing - this will be a chaptered fic) Captain Hudson knows that you and Lucas are more than just friends, and after changing your shift rotations to make sure you're not on duty together, you take things into your own hands and request a transfer from seaQuest. Before your transfer can be processed, officers and crew begin showing signs of extreme anxiety, anger and paranoia. Some are worse affected than others, you being one of them. Can you fight for not only your relationship with Lucas but your state of mind?

Pairings: Ensign Lucas Wolenczak x FemLieutenant!Reader, Commander Jonathan Ford x Lieutenant Lonnie Henderson (only slight)

Warnings: Language, violence, insecurity, angst, paranoia, anxiety, mental instability, very mild sexual references, age difference/gap. 

Comments: If you wish to be added to my seaQuest tag list, which will be separate from all my other tags, let me know, and I will only tag you in these if you specifically request to be tagged. This is practically a dead fandom now, but I would still like to share my writings with you. If you would like to ask any questions, then by all means just ask! 

For the next two months, you found that hiding your relationship with Lucas from the stern and abrupt Captain Hudson, seemed to keep a spark alight. Time alone together was limited but you both enjoyed it and anticipated the end of working shifts. Practically everyone aboard knew of the relationship, apart from Hudson and Lieutenant Fredricks, who had served for some years under his command before coming aboard seaQuest. You didn’t trust her enough with something this private and potentially career shattering if it was handled the wrong way.

One day you were in your usual seat next to Lucas on the bridge. The two of you were laughing quite loudly when Hudson strolled through the large, steel double doors. “Please do share with all of us what is so amusing, Lieutenant. Has this place turned into a playground? Maybe I should treat you like children and separate you,” Hudson growled, scowling at you both.

“I’m sorry, Sir. It won’t happen again,” you apologised with a blush.

“Make sure it doesn’t!” Hudson instructed.

A heavy feeling sat in the pit of your stomach for the remainder of the morning, until you were approached by Hudson. “A word, please, in my quarters, Lieutenant,” he told you.

The heaviness suddenly got even stronger, feeling like an elephant was standing on your head, pressing you down into the floor. Your legs were weak, but you remained calm and composed outwardly, and followed the Captain off the bridge.

“Close the door and take a seat,” he told you.

With a deep breath, you sat down. You could feel a thin layer of sweat beginning to drop from under your hair, and you prayed that Hudson couldn’t see it.

“Lieutenant,” Hudson began, folding his hands on his desk. “It’s been a pleasure so far to have you aboard, but I’m concerned about your relationship with Ensign Wolenczak. You work well together; there’s no denying that. But you sometimes appear a little tooclose for my liking.”

“We’re very close friends, Sir. We’ve been through a lot together the last two years, and it’s difficult to not bond,” you replied.

“I want to make you aware that if two officers are found to be sharing in a relationship which is more than professional in nature, they can both be stripped of rank and ejected from Naval duty. You are aware, Lieutenant?”

“Yes, Sir. And I can assure you that Ensign Wolenczak and I are only close friends,” you lied.

“Good. I’d hate to lose one of my best officers, and one who is upcoming and showing a lot of potential. Dismissed, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, Sir,” you replied, saluted, and left the room.

On the bridge and you sheepishly sat back down, noticing pairs of eyes watching you in interest.

“What happened?” Lucas whispered, leaning across his seat towards you.

“We need to talk tonight,” you whispered back, your gaze making sure that no one was in close enough proximity to hear you. “I think Hudson suspects what’s going on.”

“What? How?” Shock was present in his harsh whisper.

“I don’t know. Shh!” you instructed.

Lucas looked up to see Captain Hudson come strolling back on to the bridge. He noticed you and the Captain exchange knowing glances.

It was incredibly tense on the bridge that afternoon, just like it had been when you and Lucas first started exploring your feelings. Had someone whistle blown? Surely not. Those who knew of your relationship were close friends with you both. Not even Jonathan Ford, the second in command, would have dropped you into such a tight spot. He may have been professional, sticking to Naval code, but he was also understanding and compassionate. Commander Ford was human, recognising the flaws, yet beauty, of our nature.

When it was time for shift rotation, you walked off the bridge quickly, leaving Lucas behind to untangle himself from his headset and leave his seat in a rush. By the time he got through the doors and you had already turned the corner towards your quarters.

“We need to talk,” he demanded.

You stopped and sighed, feeling tears begin to fill your eyes. “After dinner.”

Lucas’ stomach was flipping from that time onwards, and he knew there was no way that he could eat and keep it down. Your relationship wasn’t going to last and that terrified him. The very thing that kept him happy and helped him get out of bed in a morning was falling apart.

Lucas remained in his quarters for an hour, looking at the photos of him and you that he had kept hidden in a book on his desk. You both looked so happy and in love with life. Behind your uniform was someone who was always laughing, never without a kind word and a keen mind for art, music and literature. There was nothing about you, when out of uniform, that screamed Navy.

Suddenly there was a knock and he turned to see you peep your head around the door. Like him, you were still in uniform. You said his name softly and stood before him. You took his hand and held it against your chest. Tears were falling down your cheeks.

He released your hand, cupped your cheeks and kissed you. Both of you became caught up in the waves of passion, and as you parted, you couldn’t help but sob.

“Come here,” Lucas whispered. He took you into his arms and kissed your head. “We’ll sort something. I promise.”

“We can’t carry on, Lucas. Hudson basically threatened me with the fact that if we’re caught then we’ll be thrown off seaQuest and out of the Navy. We’re risking our careers.”

“Fuck my career!” Lucas exclaimed. “I love you.”

Hearing those words made your body jolt. You closed your eyes for a second, composing yourself. “You throw yourself into everything head first and never think of the consequences. You almost resigned from seaQuest for a girl you’d known one night.”

“What are you saying? That I don’t know anything? I’m still a child,” Lucas growled.

“I never said that. You need to think, and I mean well and truly. Think about what you want.”

“Oh, and you don’t need to consider that? I can already gather your answer. I’m not enough. Your rank and career is more important than me.”

“You’re putting words in my mouth, Lucas!” you exclaimed, throwing your hands up for emphasis. “I’d do anything for you, and you know that. I always have. I’ve stayed up with you at night, protected you, loved you.” You couldn’t help but sit down on the edge of Tony’s bunk and weep.

Lucas got down on his knee before you and held your hands in his. “What do you want?” he asked softly.

“To be happy with you. Care free,” you replied.

Lucas smiled as he heard those words. “And I want you to be happy. I’m willing to do whatever it takes.”

You loved that so much about Lucas. He followed his heart and would do anything for it. All or nothing. You leaned forward and kissed him again, and this time he moved upwards and over you, with you lying back on the bed. His confidence had soared to new heights and he often took control of your intimacy, despite it being limited due to circumstances.

At dinner you sat with Lucas and Lonnie. The conversation turned to your chat with Hudson earlier.

“Someone must have told him,” you said.

“I don’t think so,” Lonnie replied. “You know that not one of us would have said anything. I think he’s reading between the lines.”

Suddenly Commander Ford called both you and Lucas to him. He remained silent and guided you down to the Ward Room, which was empty. All of you stepped inside.

“Captain Hudson has requested you be separated on opposite shift rotations. Lucas, you’ll stay on the day shifts that’s running presently.” Then he turned to you. “You’ll go on duty tomorrow night with Brody and Piccolo.”

“Why is he doing this?” Lucas asked.

“You know why,” you replied angrily.

“I’m sorry,” Ford said sadly. “I tried to reason with him but he wasn’t listening.”

Later that evening, Lucas was in your quarters. The two of you were discussing Hudson’s latest move to keep you both apart.

“He’s serious about this, Lucas,” you began. “He won’t stop until we never see each other at all. We can’t keep a relationship going like this. He knows we’re together. This isn’t a way of just making sure; he knows.”

“Even before we were officially together as a couple, Captain Bridger saw us together all the time and never suspected a thing.”

“To him I was your mother hen,” you said softly, smiling weakly. You remembered happier times and wished that they still existed.

***

The next morning, while you remained in your quarters, preparing ahead of your night shift, Lucas was called into the Ward Room with the Captain.

“Mr. Wolenczak,” Hudson said, turning towards Lucas once the door had been closed. “You’re probably aware of why I want to speak with you.” Then he said your name with a sigh. “I’m aware that you two have probably become a lot closer than you should have.”

“If you’re referring to an intimate relationship, then no, Sir. We’re very good friends.”

“Ensign, take a seat.”

Lucas sat opposite Hudson, his hands beginning to shake and sweat with nervousness and apprehension.

“I know how feelings can develop when you’re constantly around the same people. We bond through hardships. And you’re still an impressionable young man.”

“What are you saying, Captain?” Lucas asked, leaning across the table a little. “If you think she’s somehow managed to talk me into…”

“No, I’m not saying that. You’re still young and have plenty of time.”

“With all due respect, Sir, dating and my personal life isn’t really something I’d like to share.”

“While you’re on my boat and under my command, Ensign, none of it is personal,” Hudson countered in irritation. “I’m well aware that you spend a lot of time in one another’s quarters, and you really think I’m that stupid? Take this as a warning to you both to stop this right now!”

Lucas glared at Hudson angrily.

“Dismissed, Ensign.”

Lucas stormed out of the Ward Room, smacking into Dagwood on the way who was busy cleaning the hallway floor.

“Lucas?” Dagwood called innocently after his friend. Lucas never replied and disappeared out of sight of the dagger.

In the Moon Pool, Lucas paced in front of Darwin. The dolphin looked on in interest, his head just above the water. Why was Hudson being such a bastard? Couldn’t Navy officers find love, settle down and be human? And why couldn’t it be with someone they worked with? How else would Lucas have time to meet anyone? It was true what Hudson had said: people bond during hardship. That was exactly what had helped Lucas fall for you as deeply as he had. You helped him through his hardship which was mainly feeling unimportant and lonely. Everything was being ripped away from him and it was at times such as these that he missed Nathan Bridger more than he could express.

Once Lucas finally returned to duty, Hudson was waiting on the bridge. He shot over to Lucas, inches away from his face. “Next time that you decide to just disappear from your duty because you have been told something you don’t like, I’ll have you thrown into the brig for subordination.”

“Lucas, don’t be stupid,” a voice came from behind him.

You were stood just behind Lucas, looking toward the two fired up men. In your hand was an envelope. “I wish to request a transfer, Captain,” you announced.

[undercoveravenger]

The Boy with the Pac-Man Tattoo

Original request: "Could i request a micheal x reader where Michael thinks the reader hates him because the reader is always glaring or staring at him but in actuality the readers just looking at him so he can draw Michael. One Day by accident the reader submits the drawing and it gets shown to a whole school and the reader gets embarrassed and runs off then Michael goes to comfort him."

A/N: To the anon who requested this: you are my absolute favorite! I love this boy so much, you have no idea. I don't care if my blog ever says requests are closed, I will always accept writing for him ❤

__________________________________________________________

"He's doing it again," Michael groused, keeping his head down as he pretended to work on an English assignment. 

"I'm sure it's not that bad-" His best friend started as he perked up beside Michael, looking around less-than-subtly to catch the supposed culprit. "Yeah, no, he's definitely staring at you like he wants you dead," Jeremy amended unhelpfully.

Michael groaned quietly, glancing toward the right side of the room again to see if he was still being watched.

Yep, same (h/c) hair, same red leather-bound notebook, same (e/c) eyes narrowed at him intensely. Their eye contact broke when you looked back down at your notebook, scribbling away at it in the same way you always did.

"What do you think he's writing?" Jeremy's voice snapped him out of his reverie.

Michael shrugged, beginning to pack up his things as the bell rang. "Probably different ways to murder me and make it look like an accident," he replied, waiting for his friend before heading for the door. "You and I both know he's hated me since we met."

The brunet winced as he collided with someone just before he could leave the room, the force knocking both he and his attacker to the ground. "Shit, I'm so sorry man-" he started, eyes widening when they met those belonging to the boy who'd been glaring at him all year.

"Watch where you're going," you growled, leaning forward to snatch up your journal from where it'd fallen before scrambling to your feet and disappearing into the crowded hallway.

Michael sighed, picking up his spilled things (and his what was left of his dignity) and standing back up. "Told you he hated me," he said simply, looking back at Jeremy.

Jeremy shrugged, shifting his backpack straps higher up on his shoulders. "Yeah, can't argue with that, I guess."

He shook it off, leading the way toward his beat-up PT Cruiser, knowing that both of them really needed a weekend of video games to take their minds off of the hell that is Middle Borough High School.

---------

"I really don't see why you won't just tell him you like him," Jake called, not even looking up from his phone as he spoke. He didn't really need to, after all, the three of you had had this conversation a million times.

"Yeah!" Rich chimed in from his place next to Jake, "It's not like he'd reject you! I'm, like, ninety-nine percent sure that Mell's into the artsy type anyway."

You rolled your eyes, putting the last couple of touches on your latest drawing. "Not everyone has perfect track records of not getting rejected like you two do."

Rich rolled his eyes, setting aside the xBox controller and making his way over to you. "You see this?" He asked, pointing at your drawing, "For one thing, this is fucking amazing, for two, it's kind of pathetic."

"Hey!" you protested weakly.

Rich rolled his eyes, "You know I'm right; you can't talk to the guy, so instead you draw pictures of him."

You ducked your head, unable to argue.

"You do realize that if you actually talked to him-" Jake started, sitting up and twisting around to face you. 

"You guys could be fucking by now!" Rich interrupted, waving his hands in the air over dramatically.

Jake blinked, staring at Rich for a second like he couldn't believe he'd just said that aloud. "I was going to say that maybe you could date him instead of just staring at him from a distance."

"Whatever," was all you could muster, visibly perking up when you heard the doorbell ring downstairs. "Would you look at that, an excuse to stop talking about this," you said sarcastically, turning on your heel and making your escape.

Rich waited until he heard your footsteps on the main floor before launching himself at your desk. He was methodical, pawing through drawers until he found what he was looking for.

"Rich, bro-" Jake was understandably confused, "What the hell are you doing?"

Rich turned around, your red leather-bound sketchbook in his hands. "I thought it was about time that they get their asses in gear."

"You know he doesn't like people touching that," Jake's eyes narrowed suspiciously, "What are you planning?"

The shorter male grinned, flipping through the book until he found one of his favorite portraits that you'd done of Michael before carefully extracting it from the binding. "Figured my buddy's art was good enough to be on display at the art show, don't you think?"

---------

The Middle Borough High School Art Show was one of the highlights of the school year for many students. It wasn't necessarily that they liked the art, but it was hard to dislike an event that resulted in classes getting postponed. Most of your peers ended up trying to sneak away with someone to hook up or sneak in a quick smoke behind the bleachers. 

Normally you enjoyed the art show just as much as the next guy, but this year you were a little preoccupied. First a few of your drawings had gone missing, then Rich and Jake started acting strange. Hell, one of them had latched onto each of your arms and were steering you down the school hallways purposefully.

They finally began to slow down when the three of you approached the end of the hall near the auditorium where a large crowd was gathered around one of the art pieces. Your heart stopped in your chest when Rich shouldered his way closer to the front, dragging you with him, until you could actually see what everyone was looking at.

Michael couldn't believe his eyes. Sure, the artwork had been blown up to about ten times the original size, thus losing some of the details, but it was all there. The shading of the leaves and placement of the tree branches perfectly matched those of his memories, the sunny sky paling in comparison to the glow surrounding the focus point of the piece.

The massive drawing focused on a young man as he stood under a looming maple tree. He faced away from the viewer with one hand holding a phone, head tipped down toward it, and the other arm hanging casually at his side. Even he was turned the other way, he was still drawn in such a familiar way that it felt like it didn't matter if you couldn't see his face.

Somehow, the artist had managed to make him blend into his surroundings and stand apart from them at the same time. Worn red fabric came across looking well-loved and warm and individual pen strokes made the polar bear on the back of his hoodie look soft enough to touch, while the mountain range at the base still looked jagged and harsh.

His hair looked wind-tousled and his headphones looked like they actually held weight where they were tucked over his ears. His skin was exactly the shade it was in real life, down to the way the light brushed over the Pac-Man tattoo on the subject's forearm, perfectly mirroring the one on Michael's own.

Really, it was undeniable that the drawing had been based off of Michael. Hell, if he'd had a photo of him standing and waiting for Jeremy after school, he was half-convinced that the artwork would be more accurate.

Michael was further surprised when his gaze drifted lower and he noticed the artist's name printed on a sheet of paper hung below the art. He twisted, turning to look at the faces around him. He paused as his eyes locked onto you. 

You looked… sick. It seemed like the very existence of your artwork on that wall made you feel like you wanted to vanish, and the expression only worsened as your gaze locked with his.

As Michael watched, you tore yourself away from Rich and Jake, ducking your head and curling in on yourself as you turned tail and disappeared into the crowd.

Michael didn't even have to stop and think before he took off after you.

---------

When Michael finally found you, it was under the same tree as the one in your drawing and he was struck by the irony for a moment. Eventually he forced himself to move, settling himself on the ground beside you as he tried to think of what to say.

It was you that finally broke the oppressive silence. "I'm sorry," you said.

It was then that Michael noticed how small you seemed in that moment. As one of the three most popular guys in school, you'd always seemed to emanate confidence- you were untouchable. But now, as you sat there with your head down and your shoulders hunched, he was struck by the fact that you were just as human as anyone else. "Why would you need to be sorry?"

"Isn't it a little, I dunno, creepy?" You laughed humorlessly, "For me to have been drawing you without your permission?"

Michael thought for a minute, trying to come up with an appropriate reply. He ended up shrugging, "I mean, it's better than thinking you were out to murder me."

That got a real laugh out of you and Michael couldn't help but grin in response. "No," you said once your laughter had subsided, "That's not something you'll need to worry about." Your grin faded a little, "Neither is the drawing thing," you amended, picking up the little red notebook that Michael had always seen you with and turning it over in your hands for a moment before holding it out to him. "I- uh, I won't draw you anymore and I figured that since you're in them, they technically belong to you."

Michael took the book from you slowly, fingers lingering on the worn leather and thumb brushing absently at a tear along the side. He lifted the cover slowly, gaze taking reverently at every drawing he uncovered, each one seeming to rewrite a little of what he'd thought he known about you. Each drawing unearthed something you treasured, whether it was a portrait of him (he couldn't help but blush at the sheer number of them, let alone the quality) or a quick sketch of a bird you'd seen and thought pretty.

He closed it after a few moments, nudging it against your thigh to get your attention. You turned back to him with a raised brow, clearly confused. "You aren't keeping it?"

"No," Michael replied, shaking his head slowly. "Who am I to keep an artist from his sketchbook, after all."

You still looked puzzled, "Really? I thought you'd be a lot less cool about this."

Michael shrugged, looking away with a flush on his cheeks, "It's kind of, I don't know, flattering, I guess? That you thought I was worth drawing."

"Worth drawing?" You mocked with a roll of your eyes, "If you were just worth drawing I would have done one and left it at that." You lifted the book pointedly, "I think you and I both know I've done a lot more than that."

The brunet chuckled, biting his lip as he tried to think of what to say. "You can, um, you can still draw me, if you want?"

You twisted around to look at him again, clearly shocked.

Michael raced to explain himself before you could say anything. "I mean, with me knowing about it this time, of course, but I thought- y'know, they're really good and with some better posing and me knowing not to move or make weird faces or something, then they could be really great and-" he cut himself off, face burning, and his hand twitched up to mess with the cord of his headphones the way he always did when he was nervous. 

You couldn't help but laugh, grinning fondly at the action you'd noticed in your time admiring him. You brought a hand up to catch Michael's, gently tugging his hand free of the cord and setting it back on his leg with a light squeeze. "You're in it for shared custody then, huh?" you teased, tapping a finger against the cover of the sketchbook. "You realize that means you'll have to deal with me more often, right?"

Michael's blush darkened and you ducked your head, "I… wouldn't be opposed?"

"Shared custody it is then." You grinned, laying back in the grass to look up at the clouds, content with enjoying the way your rocky day had turned out. Maybe this wasn't you asking him out, but it was a start.

Maybe by this time next year you'd be able to talk him into doing some nude modeling...

[a-forgotten-spirit]

Dabi x Hero Reader (2)

(Credit to owners for original pictures)

Pairing: Dabi x Fem Hero in training Reader

Summary: Reporters won’t leave, it has been a week and Reader needs to let off some stress with going to a club.

Words: +-3200

Warnings: Lack of friends, not eating, stress, lack of sleep, self-doubt, underage drinking, someone trying to grope the reader (Dabi saves you), saying you wouldn't mind being poisoned, overtraining.

Tags: @wnygirl2012​

A/N: I am still taking requests. Guess who made a part 2, me, it's me. Next chapter is all about the chemistry if people want it of course. Leave a comment if you like it, honestly makes my day. 

Chapter 1 

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Chapter 2 Y/N P.O.V

The past week had been hell, reporters trying to enter the school to get the latest scoop of me. I was being stalked by reporters so I wasn’t allowed to leave the school while my so-called friends did. Teachers asked for me to go see the counsellor: I declined, I didn’t need to see one. I got thanks from the Police and the victims' families which had lightened my mood exponentially. A reporter with a stretch quirk managed to enter the school and come to my training with the class, they ran at me, Aizawa got to them before I did and the camera was dropped, all footage lost. A true shame. I couldn’t even leave my room at this point, even my classmates had wanted to ask questions.

“Hey Y/N” Deku had walked up to me, a book clenched in his hand, I had thought he wanted to say I did a good job or at least have a normal conversation with me, that was not the case “Could you tell me about your quirk” his eyes were shining, I knew he had a thing for new or interesting quirks but I was on my last nerve “I find it really interesting, how do you pick the music, tone, song, rhythm to fit a scene” I lost it. I was being bombarded with people.

My social media had blown up and all I was getting was messages upon messages. I wasn’t able to sleep one night due to the vibrating and the next morning bags beneath my eyes. My phone vibrated and I threw it across the room with the power of All Might himself. It wasn’t broken, some miracle and it continued to vibrate. Then camp the emails asking to ‘Clear up’ the drama on TV shows and things.

So when Deku asked the question I lost it, flipping my table and scaring the class “Shut up. I am on my last fucking nerve. I don’t pick the song or the fucking lyrics. I pick an emotion he was stressed for seduction was easiest to gain control” I had screamed and I could see Aizawa look down, he had been with me last week trying to help me. “I did what was asked and now I'm being punished for it. If this is how my career will be maybe I don’t want to be a fucking hero” after my outburst I left the room and made my way to the training ground, having to walk out the main doors. I could hear the yelling and someone seemed to have a megaphone quirk. I was about ready to just scream.

That was my week, once a week had passed you’d think there would be new news but I was not fortunate enough for that. My inbox was still full, new messages. I found out they tried to find where my parents lived, that almost sent me into a violent rage. My parents were fine and no one had found them, luckily. I haven't slept in days and I looked like a walking corpse.

I was sitting at the island in the kitchen scrolling through all the articles of me and Dabi, speaking of him, I hadn’t seen him in the week. Seems he was the only one to not try and visit me, lucky me. “You look like shit” at the voice I looked up seeing Bakugou, I wasn’t in the mood to deal with the exploding douche but he continued “Are you hungry, I noticed you haven’t been eating” who was this, this was not the Bakugou I know.

“What have you done with Bakugou” when was the last time I had eaten, I just avoided it as I didn’t want the people in the class to so much as being in the same room as me. The looks and whispers, the halls of the school were plastered with questioned, though the boy from 1-B, Shinso, had told me his quirk and that he understood what I was going through and if I needed to talk he was there for me. I had taken him up on the offer through the week and now I felt like I had at least one friend here.

“Fuck off” he yelled and then looked to me “Are you hungry or not” although Bakugou liked to act tough, I had noticed he liked to cook for others and with a slight nod of my head he began to cook. My eyes moved back to the screen as I continued reading.

“Villain in the works” “UA students seduce Villain” “She’s in love with a criminal” “Admitted to being in love with a Villain”

The articles went on and on, some not even in Japan. I understood the hype but I would have thought it would have died down, All Might had saved some kids but even that was turned to how could he deal with having someone such as myself in his class. He had defended me but that did next to nothing. Dropping my phone on the counter I sighed, rubbing my face and then moving my hands down to my neck to then let my head drop. I couldn’t take much more.

Food was ready, though I wasn’t sure how long I had just sat there in my thoughts. A bowl of rice with vegetables and an egg, it looked delicious. A simple “Thank you” and a mouthful I nodded to myself and grabbed the pepper from the bench, everything is better with pepper is my motto.

“You’re the first person to just eat it and not ask if I poisoned it” looking up he too was eating and looked into my eyes, was Bakugou trying to be nice. I was grateful, I needed it and I wasn’t picky who was the one being nice.

“At this point” I smiled taking another bite “I wouldn’t mind if you did” he laughed, low and deep. Having to cover his mouth and swallow harshly, I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. I made the Bakugou laugh.

He nodded “I don’t blame you” the conversation continued until the end of the meal where I thanked him once more and then left to get changed, it was the weekend so we didn’t have classes but my classmates went out much to my pleasure. I wanted the dorms to myself.

Changing into my working out clothing I placed my wireless earbuds in and sighed listening to music ring through my head, each thump of the beat was like heaven to my mind. Making my way to the training grounds was one full of small body rolls and my hands moving the beat. It was calm and surreal, this is the silence I craved. This was my silence. I mouthed the lyrics until I began to work out, harsh and struggling to breathe work out. I needed to work on my lung capacity, it was needed if a villain was particularly strong-minded not to say everyone wasn’t but sometimes it can be hard to sing if one is out of breath.

I pushed my body to the limit, running laps and singing lowly to myself with my earbuds in. I had stopped to tie my hair then continued, chin up to pull my body up and then hang for a moment pulling knees to my chest the legs out and pulling myself once more. I needed to become stronger, I was sweating but I needed to go faster, harder. Time was non-existent as I worked my body to the bare minerals of my soul, I whispered the songs and noticed my breathing pattern was getting better. I smiled and continued.

Working-out seemed to do something to my brain, it slowed my thinking down only making me worried for the exercises I was currently occupied with as I was about to run another lap I felt something wrap around my wrist and turned seeing Aizawa standing there. Taking out my earbuds I stopped the music.

“How long have you been here,” he asked his strange scarf like whip thing returning to his body. There was no clock and I wasn’t a fan of watches, my earbuds had been wireless so I left my phone with my bag and just went for it.

Breathing heavily, I sighed out “A few hours, two, three at the most,” I answered. Was I in trouble? I was told we could use this facility, maybe I was mistaken. Had I heard wrong?

“Y/N” it’s 5 pm” he looked out and I tilted my head, then a quick shake. I came in here about 10 am, I couldn’t have been going for that long “Bakugou said he made you breakfast then you didn’t go out with the group. Have you had a break-in that seven hours” he asked, worry written all over his face? Now he mentioned the time, my muscles did feel a little overused but I couldn’t have been going for that long. Could I?

“No” I whispered and looked around, it wasn’t dark outside and I was guessing my brain was just saying that it was the same time as the sun was out. I shook my head and walked to my drink and phone. Taking a long sip and checking the time, 5:07 pm he was right.

“Maybe it's time to go talk to the counsellor” he suggested, I didn’t want to see them. They had a truth quirk, they made you calm then tell them your thoughts and feelings. I was not giving my mind to someone I did not know.

“I'm fine” I replied and looked up “Trust me, I’m fine. I just lost track of time” I smiled and walked to Aizawa whose frown was prominent on his features “Thank you, I'll head to dinner” he didn’t stop me and I was grateful.

Dinner was fine, I ate by myself as everyone was already finished, showered and headed to my room. I was going to put my phone on charge as it usually needed it by this time in the afternoon but I hadn’t been on it so there was no need. I was scrolling through my phone when I received a text message. Clicking on it, there was party night at the club I used to perform at. They said I was always welcome and so I shot the owner a quick message receiving one instantly. A downloaded ticket and passcode to get any drinks or go wherever I wanted. It was tempting, I sent another message that I wouldn’t be performing and they were fine with it, though I was always welcome in the club. I sat pondering for a moment, a long few hour moments. The reporters leave about 10:30 pm as that’s when they stopped getting paid I assumed, the first few nights they stayed at the gates but they were human and needed sleep. It was the weekend and I didn’t have school the next day. I could drink and have some fun, I looked to the pills beside my bed, if I wanted to hook up I could. I haven’t done so before but then again it could be fun to just let loose and have some fun. I got up looking through my wardrobe and picking a black bra then pulling a lace long-sleeved shirt over the top. Pulling a short skirt up my legs and then placing on some black heels, I felt confident and pretty. A bag with my phone, wallet, pills if I stayed somewhere, charger and a few other things if I needed it. There was no need for makeup I would be surrounded by lights and people within the next few hours.

I smiled looking myself up and down once more and nodded, let's have a good night. Walking from my room I was typing on my phone letting the owner know I was on my way and they better have some strong drinks on offer. Holding my phone at my side I came down the stairs and then walked through the main room, almost everyone playing games or talking though it went silent as I passed.

“Where are you going Y/N it’s almost 11 at night” Kirishima called out looking to his phone, he was so caring of everyone though in the last few years of schooling with him I don’t think I had had a proper conversation with him.

I stopped turning to the group a smile on my face “I am going to a club, I’ll be home tomorrow” I paused and began to walk to the door “Probably” I finished and heard Iida begin to scold as I closed the door.

Walking to the main gate I smiled, they never had security this time of the night on weekends, kids visited parents and always got home late or the upper years were doing as I was. Getting the gate there were no reporters and I smiled a little wider making my way into the city. It was dark and the cold licked at my face, this was amazing. I had to google map my way to the club as I had only gone from my home, I hadn’t lived on campus for a long time but it wasn’t that big of a problem. The club closed at six in the morning and opened at ten at night so I was fine. The journey was a little over three-quarters of an hour but I enjoyed it. Coming up to the club, bright lights and people lined up around the block, they were always popular. I walked passed the line and up to the security, he was about to speak but with a simple show of my phone his face paled and he nodded.

“May I” he gestured to my face and I looked to see his hands secreting this change coloured substance “It lets the staff know where and what you can do” he smiled and I nodded closing my eyes. His fingers were soft as they swept along my cheeks, this was a fitting job for that quirk. 

“Do my neck” I whispered and put my head back pulling my shirt down from my neck to allow him his palm came to hold my throat and glide down to the top of my breast. When he stopped I smiled “Thanks” as he moved and I passed by the people in line. The hallway had no light but when passing the curtain I looked around, lights and people, music ringing through the whole area, smoke clouded the floor and the ceiling. The paint that man secreted was luminescent under the lights, I took my phone out and saw my own was orange, no one else seemed to have the colour. So he could pick the colour, I tried to wipe it off and it didn’t smudge. Perhaps faded in time, I didn’t care.

I made my way to the bar and the bartender turned, he had tentacles coming from his sides, he could make a lot of drinks at the one time, another quirk well suited for their job “How can I help” he paused and looked at my face then down my neck “You” he must have noticed my colour, I felt special.

“Something strong” I smiled and when placed in front of me and I threw my head back and sighed in contempt. Then placed the glass down “A few more” sure this was illegal but this was a club and I'm sure illegal drinking was not the only illegal thing that happened in this building.

My phone vibrated and I looked to see messages from my classmates, how did they even have my number. Some worried for my safety this late at nights, others anger, Iida, some asking if this is the best choice given my latest show that was plastered everywhere. “Mam if I may, I can place your belongings behind the counter and you can retrieve them as you leave. No distractions or inconveniences” he seemed to know what was going on, on my screen. So with a smile and a simple group message saying I was fine, I handed my things over. After a few more drinks I nodded to him.

I made my way to the dance floor, the DJ was blasting the music, his quirk something to do with the speakers and table in front of him. They were efficient in their picking for who worked here. I had moved to the middle as the music ran through my body as much as the alcohol and I smiled, my hands moved near my head and I swayed my hips from side to side, eyes closed. Drinks were passed around and I felt a few people grind on me, not specifically but just enjoying themselves. I didn’t mind, not at all, I was having the time of life. All was going well until I felt a hand a bit close to my ass then I would have liked, spinning around I gripped the wrist of the male and narrowed my eyes.

Using my quirk so he could hear me I stated “Fuck off” I had been dancing for at least an hour and I was not in the mood for some sick freak to ruin my night because he wanted to cop a feel. Throwing his hand at him I added “Go find someone else, I'm not interested” in truth, I wanted to break his hand.

“Come on” he whispered and his arms wrapped around my body, anyone would have thought we were just dancing if they looked now. I tried to pry him off though he was strong. “Look at you, in lace and orange. I haven’t seen someone with orange” he smirked. His colour was pink which I had seen a lot so he wasn’t important or at least known here.

His hands moved down my back as I tried to push him his head moving as sniffing my neck, his hands moved lower, now at my tailbone. I growled and was going to push him again when his presence left my body and someone was standing in front of me.

“Touch her again and I’ll end you” the voice was familiar and deep, angered. The male looked up ready to fight but then his face paled and I could see the fear begin to crawl through his body.  

“I didn’t know she was yours” his hands rose and now I was angrier than before. I wasn’t anyone’s, maybe I shouldn’t have come. He nodded and the male moved through the crowd.

I was about to either yell or thank the guy who helped but when he turned, I froze my eyes wide and I looked into the electric blue ones of none other then Dabi. His smirk spread across his face and I shook my head. Arms coming to wrap around my waist though, I had to admit ...I liked them there. He was taller than I and his colour painted was blue. I had not seen blue, pink, yellow, green and a few purples but blue was not seen. He leaned down “Hello my little Siren” ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 3

[all-things-skam]

Sander and Robbe cute date pleaaaaseeee

Title: First date, take two

Ship: Wtfock | Robbe Ijzerman + Sander Driesen (Sobbe)

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Life had been intense and frenzied these past weeks, but they had made it through. Sander was doing better, finally getting out of bed and back to his old energetic self. It had been difficult, but with Robbe by his side, it was easier to see the light at the end of the dark tunnel.

Things were getting brighter for Robbe, too. He wasn't feeling as paranoid anymore when going outside past 10pm, finally capable to hold Sander's hand in the bus or less crowded streets.

''My mom is coming home next week.''

Sander's eyes snapped up from the menu, grinned at his boyfriend. ''Is she?'' he asked excitedly. 

Robbe's mother was still a soft subject to talk about, a fresh scar on his heart, but Sander never forced Robbe to say more than he wanted to. Every time Robbe bringed her up, Sander would listen and try to be there for him, help with the best of his abilities. Even it it meant being his shoulder to cry on.

Robbe nodded, a smile curving on his lips. ''Yeah. The doctor said she was doing good enough to come home. She'll have to see her therapist twice a week, but at least she’ll get out of that place''

''That's good. Just in time for Christmas. I’m so happy for you two''

The holiday music suddenly felt louder and more present inside the café, causing a nervous knot to form in Robbe's stomach.

Christmas was Robbe's mom's favorite holiday. She loved Christmas. She loved decorating the house with colorful, bright lights, the Christmas carols, putting tons of baubles and ornaments on their tree. Everything. She wasn't the greatest cook, but she'd put all her love and heart into the Christmas dinner - which didn't turn out that bad as long as she followed the recipe.

The past two Christmases hadn't been the greatest for the Ijzermans. With Robbe's mom's mental health going downhill, the holiday had gone under the rug. No tree, no presents and no Christmas dinner. To top it off, Robbe's dad, selfish as always, had even skipped last Christmas, claiming he had a work emergency at his office - a new code for his new girlfriend.

This year, Robbe had vowed to himself to give his mom a better Christmas. And, since the holiday season was about family and love, why not take a step forward into his and Sander's relationship?

''About that...'' Robbe scratched the collar of his neckline, preparing himself for his grand request. ''This year is going to be a quiet Christmas - just my Mom and I. So, I was wondering if you'd like to join us for dinner on the 24th? Nothing fancy, just me and my mom… and the brand-new Christmas tree.'' He let out a nervous chuckle.

It was the first time Robbe wanted to introduce someone - other than Jens - to his mom and it made him nervous to the core. When Sander met his dad, it didn't go well, and Robbe was hoping it wouldn’t be the same with his mom. He could feel his heart wanting to break at the thought of the two of them, the people he loved the most in this world, not getting along.

Eyebrows pulled, Sander stared at Robbe, uncertain. ''You want me to meet your mom?'' 

''Yes. If you don't want to, that's okay. I don't want you to feel compelled to meet her. Am I going too fast? Maybe it's too soon? I haven't even met your parents yet-'' 

''Robbe,'' Sander stopped him. He reached to grab Robbe's hands over the table, holding them in his. ''I'd love to meet your mom.'' 

Blinking, warmth filled the brunet's heart, eyes sparkling with joy. ''For real?'' 

Sander nodded, his soft chuckle filling the air between them. ''Yes, for real. I'd be honoured to meet her.''

It was their first date since they had gotten back together, and it felt good to go out again, just the two of them. No more Milan walking in without knocking nor Zoe playing the big sister and making sure everyone had eaten at least one healthy meal a day. Their intentions were kind, but Robbe missed spending time alone with Sander.

A waitress came over, taking their orders - just deserts for tonight - and left with a promise to return soon with their plates.

Robbe learned that it was a Sander thing to not follow the rules or do things conventionally. Like getting him naked before their first kiss. Or calling Robbe the love of his life without having taken a proper look to each other before. 

While they waited for their food, Sander flipped his paper placemat and started sketching with the stray pen he had found in his pocket. Robbe told him about his day, Aaron's latest flirting fail with Amber making them both laugh.

Sander couldn't believe he was there with Robbe, that he had gained his heart - again. It felt unreal. The last time they were in that café, Robbe had been so cold to him, which was understandable - he had fucked up really bad by kissing Britt. It was the biggest mistake he had made in his life, and he swore to himself to never take Robbe for granted again. He might've given him a second chance, but Sander doubted there would be a third one. 

Concentrated on his art piece, Sander almost forgot about their order, snapping out of his artistic bubble when he felt something sticky on his face. He looked up from the paper placemat and caught Robbe's mischievous smile, a chocolate covered finger right in front of his lips, about to make the evidence of the crime disappear. 

''Robbe!'' 

''Food's here,'' the latter announced innocently, licking his finger clean. 

Sander put his pen down and reached for a napkin on the table to wipe his cheek. ''Yeah, I felt it.'' 

Robbe grinned, amused, diving his fork into his cake. 

Despite his grown up facade, Robbe was such a child inside - especially once you get to know him. He’s usually so shy around others, self conscious about being a bother or annoying, but with Sander he let free all sides of his personality. 

Including his childish side. 

They ate their sweet treat quietly, stealing touches and flirty glances in the corner of the café, starting slow with the public display of affection. Between bites, Sander tried to lean over the table for a kiss, but Robbe pulled back, letting him kiss his hand instead.  

Small steps.

''Can I see?'' Robbe asked, nodding at the drawing, black pen forgotten by his drink. 

Sander hummed, swallowing his bite, and turned the paper placemat in Robbe's direction, revealing his quick art piece. It wasn't an elaborated sketch like the other ones, just some rough scribbles of Robbe's features. 

Robbe smiled, always amazed by his boyfriend’s skills. ''At this rhythm, I won't have room on my walls to put them,’’ he teased. 

''You could give this one to your mom? As a prelude for the dinner,'' Sander suggested, cocking an eyebrow. He bit his lip and shrugged. ‘’It’s not a chef d’oeuvre, but I could draw the two of you on Christmas dinner? I can bring my art supplies and make it really good so your mom can hang it up or something.’’  

The only family pictures they have in the house were taken years ago with baby Robbe and his dad. After everything that happened, it would be nice to have an updated version of their family. Or, what was left of it. 

And, not to brag, but Sander was really skilled with his hands. Artistically. So, there was no doubt that his mom would love it.  

Robbe nodded in approval. ‘’I think she’d like that.’’

‘’If she’s anything like her son, she’ll be mind blown by my drawings.’’ Sander laughed nervously, trying to hide his anxiety that formed at the officialisation of meeting Robbe’s mom. ‘’Some bring flowers and wine, I make drawings.’’

‘’She’ll love it. Better than flowers,’’ the brunet assured.

Sander’s lips turned up into a crooked grin. ''Flowers are ephemeral. Drawings lasts forever...like us.'' He winked at Robbe who scrunched his face, cringing at the cheesiness.

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Stark Spangled Banner Ch 13: On  Your Left

Summary: Ex- SHIELD Agent Katie Stark and Captain Steve Rogers have been dating for almost a year now, things are going pretty smoothly for once. A chance morning jog introduces them to Sam Wilson, before Steve is called away on a mission which doesn’t go quite according to plan...

Warnings: Smut (NSFW), no under 18s. And they say some bad language words.

A/N: Bonus additional scene- On Va Voir available...

So we are into the Winter Soldier Storyline. I've had LOADS of fun writing this.

Please re-blog if you like and send me any tag requests or suggestions you would like to see (as one shots or part of the main story) going forward by Ask.

End of March/Beginning of April 2014

"Turn it off," Katie’s voice was muffled from the pillow she had buried her face into. He moved slightly, but it wasn’t fast enough for her liking. "Steve!"

With a huff he leaned over and slapped the offending item with his palm, hitting the snooze button.

“Why is it even set?” she grumbled “It’s not like you don’t normally wake up at the crack of dawn anyway…and who uses an alarm clock when they have a phone?”

“You know, no one makes you stay here…” he teased, with a chuckle moving so that his front was pressed to her back.

“You’ve been away for 5 days…I never sleep as well when you’re not here…” she mimicked his line from the night before in a baby voice.

“And that’s why the alarm is set, because I do sleep better with you…” his arms circled her waist and he grinned to himself as despite the fact she was grumpy and tired she melted into his arms as he nuzzled at her neck, revelling in her smell, her warmth.

“Jerk…” she said. “I mean what time is it anyway?” there was a pause as he continued to simply breathe her in and she glanced at her phone giving a scoff as she saw the ridiculous time on the screen “5:30? In the morning. Five. Thirty…”

“You said you wanted to go running.” He murmured, his eyes still closed.

“No, you said you were going running and I said I might tag along because I’ve eaten nothing but shit whilst I’ve been in New York, which, by the way is your fault…”

“My fault?” Steve laughed, cracking an eye open “I wasn’t even there.”

“Exactly” she muttered “No one to stop me.” “I wouldn’t stop you anyway. You’re a big girl, you make your own decisions...” “Big girl…You calling me fat?” she teased as she rolled onto her back and turned her head to face his, just about making out his features in the dark room. He rolled his eyes, God she was a pain in the ass at times.

“Yeah… you’re huge…” he deadpanned, his hand travelling over her flat stomach and coming to rest on her hip. “Enormous…”

"Ok, well now that we’ve established I need to run, you know on account of me being a hippo, that still doesn’t answer the question why we have to go so damned early anyway. It’s not like we have to be anywhere…” “It’s less crowded.” he shrugged.

“Yeah, that’s because it’s a ridiculous time…”

Oh fuck this for a game of soldiers…if she was that moody about being woken up Steve was going to do something to remind her exactly why she chose to stay in his bed.

“I love how full of sunshine and happiness you are in the morning…” he muttered as he dropped his head so his lips could gently trail a few lazy kisses down her neck before landing at her collarbone and giving a quick nip, his hand tightening on her hip.

She sighed, her body already starting to respond to his touch, the way it always did, betraying her. Damned him and his fucking bastard sex appeal.

“OK, if you want to actually get up now…” she muttered, as his mouth travelled back up and she rolled her head back to give him access to the spot on her neck that drove her wild every time he found it.  “I suggest you stop…” “I hit the snooze button…” he muttered, lips brushing her ear as he spoke. “We got about 8 minutes left.”

“8 minutes?”

 “Reckon I only need 5…” he shot back

“You have a very high opinion of yourself…” she replied, tilting her head so she was looking at him, smirking.

Oh, challenge accepted Doll! He said nothing, just cocked a single, mischievous brow at her before his lips met hers, his hand running down from hip to thigh then across, parting her legs slightly. They were still naked from the night before, clothes strewn all over the apartment after he’d been so desperate to get his hands on her.

She moaned gently into his mouth as he slowly sank two fingers into her and her hips instantly bucked upwards, drawing a grin from his mouth. 

“Easy, baby…” he whispered, his mouth returning to her neck…

4 minutes later she lay beneath him, a quivering wreck and he was right behind her, 2 shallow thrusts later as he tumbled over that edge with a low groan, eyes fluttering shut as he fell forward onto her. He smirked into her neck when she had finally regained her senses enough to quip that he’d beaten his proposed time by a full 60 seconds. And 60 seemed to be the flavour of the day as it was almost another 60 minutes before they got to his favoured running spot, the National Mal thanks to the fact it had taken Katie almost 30 minutes to locate her trainers which she’d eventually found in her car.  Steve had seized the opportunity, as always to lament her for the fact she was messy. 

“I’m not messy.” She scoffed indignantly as they walked the 7 blocks. “I’m just not as OCD about everything being in its right place, all the time, like a neat-freak Soldier”

The good natured jibing had continued until they reached their destination and walked through the park to the reflecting pool

“How many laps did you do last time?” Katie asked, as Steve stretched his arms upwards, cracking his back.

“6.” he said.

She looked at him, frowning. “You did 6 laps…that’s like what? 20 miles?”

“Nearer 22.” He grinned.  “You want me to keep your pace?”

She laughed “No way, you’ll just bitch at me for being slow.”

“I do not bitch…” he said, giving her a look. “You bitch like a 14 year old girl…” she said, gently shoving him in his back. “Now go, go on!”

He smiled again, jogging backwards for a second before he set off at a rate of knots. Exercise always made him feel good. Running, boxing, sparring…fucking. Pushing away  the dirty thoughts that had arisen to the forefront of his mind, he was quick to find a comfortable pace, his trainer clad feet slapping the concrete.

It didn’t take Katie long to find her rhythm either. Despite not being with SHIELD anymore she had kept her fitness training up, sparring 3 times a week with either Natasha or Steve in the local gym. She was technically still an Avenger after all, Tony having now fashioned her another Supernova suit which was basically a version of his latest Iron Man suit but in Silver and Blue, the Nova shaped star sported in the chest where the mini arc reactor powered it. She'd given it a trial run whilst she had been back in New York and was just as impressed with it now as she had been with the prototype he had blown up.

Her feet gently slapped the ground as she ran, the sun was rising on the last day of March and it was promising to be a sunny, bright spring morning.

"Hi." a voice greeted her as another jogger she hadn’t seen before caught up with her and fell into step with her.

“Nice day for it!”  Katie smiled.

"You normally run this early?" he asked "Haven't seen you around before."

“That’s because I don’t normally run here!” she smiled “But I just spent 5 days in New York eating crap so…!”

He laughed and held out his hand. "Sam Wilson."

I took it and gave it a shake. "Katie Stark.”

“Well I’ll be damned!” Sam grinned “I didn’t recognise you. Nice to meet you."

"You too."

As Steve was about to lap Katie for the first time he noticed she was running with another jogger, a black man wearing a grey sweater with short, cropped hair. At one time this would have sparked the green eyed monster in his chest, but not now. Not only did he know she wouldn’t stand for it, but he knew she was just sociable in general. She would talk to anyone given the chance and moreover, she was his girl, he knew that. As he approached them he breathed out an "On your left." as a warning as he sped past into his second lap.

Sam frowned, looking round and Katie smirked, trying not to laugh at the look on his face as Steve’s frame whizzed off into the distance.

"I never tire of looking at these." she commented a short while later as they rounded the monument.

Again the sound of heavy footsteps came. "On your left."

"On your left."

"Uh-huh. On my left. I got it." Sam called after him as he entered his 5th lap.

Katie didn't even try to stop herself this time and she laughed at the slight look of frustration on Sam's face.

Not long after they were making a lap around the pool at the base of the memorial. Sam gritted his teeth at the wholly unwelcomed sound of footsteps behind him once again, he looked over his shoulder "Don't say it. Don't you say it!"

"On your left."

"Come on!" Sam shouted and Steve allowed an amused smile to spread across his face.

Sam tried his hardest to pick up his speed to match that of Steve’s but failed miserably after only a few moments, now completely gassed out.

"Are you alright?" Katie asked laughing as she approached his hunched over figure, catching her own breath.

"Oh, here he comes…Superman himself…" Sam said gesturing to where Steve was now walking towards them, hands on his hips. He paused at his girl’s side and looked down at Sam.

"Need a medic?" he teased.

"I need a new set of lungs." Sam chuckled breathlessly. "Dude, you just ran like thirteen miles in thirty minutes."

"Guess I got a late start." He shrugged, shooting Katie a pointed look. She responded with her best innocent stare, batting her eyelids at him. Rolling his eyes at her, he turned his attention back to the stranger who began to talk again.

"You should be ashamed of yourself. You should take another lap." he scolded jokingly. "Did you just take it? I assume you just took it."

Steve smiled, he couldn’t help but like this man. As he looked at him, he noticed the military symbol on his grey sweater.

"What unit were you with?" Steve asked changing the subject and motioning to the man’s shirt.

"Fifty-eighth, Para-rescue. But now I'm working down at the VA. Sam Wilson." He said motioning for help up.

"Steve Rogers." Steve held out his hand and pulled Sam to his feet.

"I kind of put that together." Sam says as he tried to catch his balance. "Must have freaked you out, coming round after the whole defrosting thing."

"It takes some getting used to. But I’ve had help” he said, looking at Katie who smiled. “Good to meet you Sam.”

“Yeah, bye Sam!” Katie smiled as Steve gently placed his hand on her lower back to steer her away.

"It's your bed right?" Sam called out from behind him.

Steve paused and they both turned back around. "What's that?"

"Your bed, it’s too soft." Sam went on to explain. "When I was over there, I'd sleep on the ground and use rocks as pillows. Like cavemen. Now I'm back home, in my own bed, feels like-"

Steve cut him off. "Like lying on a marshmallow, feels like I'm gonna sink right to the floor.”

"How long?" he asked Sam

"Two tours." Sam responded. "You must miss the good old days huh?"

"Well, things aren't so bad.” He folded his arms, taking a quick glance at Katie who raised her eyebrow at him, teasingly. “Foods a lot better. We used to boil everything. No polio that's good.” He paused before making a gesture with his hand “Internet so helpful, I’ve been reading that a lot tryna' catch up."

Sam nodded and then moved his right hand from where it had been folder across his chest and held it, fingers extended. "Marvin Gaye, 1972, 'Troubleman' soundtrack.” He said, returning his arm to its resting position “Everything you've missed jammed into one album."

“Ohhh man!” Katie groaned “I love that film.”

Steve nodded, smiling and pulled out the notebook she had bought him the previous year, "I'll put it on the list."

“We can download it later…” she said. He smiled as he closed his book before he reached into his other pocket for his phone which was going off. It was Natasha.

'Mission Alert. Extraction imminent. Meet you at the curb :)'

He showed the message to Katie who read it whilst he looked over at Sam.

"Well Sam, duty calls. Thanks for the run. If that's what you wanna call running." He joked extending his hand.

"Oh that's how it is?" Sam says amused shaking the offered hand.

"That's how it is." Steve responded, laughing slightly.

"Okay, anytime you two wanna stop by the VA. Make me look awesome in front of the girl at the front desk, just let me know."

"I'll keep that in mind." Steve said as Natasha pulled up in her black chevvy sports car.

"Hey guys, anyone know where the Smithsonian is? I'm here to pick up a fossil." she quipped.

“Hey Nat!” Katie waved at her and she nodded whilst Steve simply shook his head.

"That’s hilarious." he commented dryly as he turned to Katie. “I’ll call you as soon as I can, ok?” She took a deep breath. Ever since quitting SHIELD he knew she felt uneasy when he was away.

“Be careful.” she said, as she leaned up to give him a kiss. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

He made his way to the car, opened the passenger side of the car and dropped into the seat.

"How you doing?" Sam called with a smile as he squat down to get a better view of both Natasha and the car.

"Hey." She responded with a small smile.

"Can't run everywhere." Steve joked smugly, looking back at the man.

"No you can't." Sam said and Steve shot one last look at Katie who waved as Natasha surged the car forward.

Katie watched them go before she turned to Sam.

“Military girlfriend huh?” he teased and she laughed.

“Something like that.” “Fancy a coffee?” Sam nodded to one of the stands parked over on the square and she smiled.

“Sure, why not?”

********* Turns out Sam was a pretty interesting character. He told Katie about his time serving in Afghanistan and how he had chosen, post the loss of his partner, Riley, to leave active service and focus his attention on helping others through work at the VA.

Katie had never really dug into the VA much, but it seemed like it did some pretty good work, helping those Soldiers who needed help adjusting to life post discharges for medical or mental health reasons. Sam confided in her that the DC branch was under threat due to lack of funding, and she made a mental note to speak to Tony about it being something that maybe the Stark Relief fund could look into partnering.

When they both realised they had been sat on the bench chatting for almost an hour and a half the pair of them both, knowing we had other places to be, exchanged numbers and she promised to pass his onto Steve.

The rest of her day went pretty quick, in a flourish of telephone conferences and various other ad-hoc emails to deal with, talking to the editors and Business Development team about potential authors to target. By the time she logged off for the evening it was gone 8pm. She leaned back in her chair, glancing up at the photos that decorated her office, her eyes being drawn to the one on the shelf of herself and Steve which had been taken at the New Years Eve gala last year. 

Picking up her phone she debated texting him, but she knew better than to bother him. From personal experience, STRIKE missions were heavy going. Instead she decided she was going to break with their usual routine whereby he would come to hers if it wasn't too late post mission, and she was going to wait for him at his.

******

Steve’s day had been far less enjoyable. The mission, as a whole, had been a success. It had started well, Natasha doing her usual jibing, this time she was ribbing Steve about whether he was going to ask Katie to move in. He had batted off her teasing and told her to concentrate on her job first, and she had. Only it wasn’t the job he had given her. Turns out she had a different mission. One given to her by Fury. He’d been that mad about it all that he hadn’t spoken to the red head all the way home and yes, he knew it was childish, but he was getting seriously pissed off at the secrets and lies that seemed to be part and parcel of any goddamned mission Fury sent him on.

It was just before midnight when he got home, and as he pulled his bike up into the designated space allotted for his apartment, he noticed Katie’s car was in one of the guest spaces that lined the street. He frowned slightly, she never normally waited at his for him. Not for any particular reason other than he normally spent the hours or so after a mission debriefing before heading home to decompress for a few hours and then if it wasn't too late he would head to hers. But the more he thought about it now he realised that he had no idea why he did it that way. It wasn’t like she didn’t understand what it was like being a SHIELD operative, or that he didn’t want her at his. 

Knowing that she was there made him smile for the first time since that damned mission and, despite his various aches and bruises, he found himself taking the steps to his apartment 3 at a time, his eagerness to see her wiping all other thoughts from his mind.

She was on the couch, bare denim-short clad legs spread out besides her, and she looked up from the TV as he walked into the living area and leaned in the doorway, smiling softly at the sight of her, hair tousled slightly from where she had been leaning her head against the arm of the couch.

“What are you doing here?” he asked gently as she sat up.

“Decided I’d wait for you.” She shrugged “You complaining?” “No.” he said, turning away as unzipped his jacket and hung it over the back of one of the stools by the breakfast bar before he crossed the room.

“You had a good day?” he asked.

“Yeah.” she called back, “Vanity Fair have written the article already, if I’m happy with it tomorrow then it’s going to be published this month.”

Steve couldn’t help but smile at her tone. She was proud, and she had every right to be. So was he. Stark Independent Publishing LTD had taken off like a rocket, and their first book that was launched little over a month ago had shot off the shelves, selling out in record time. Katie had been overwhelmed and the glossy magazines were queuing up to interview her. She had declined all of them until the Stark Board had suggested she do one interview for Vanity Fair, along with a photoshoot in her office. She’d reluctantly agreed, but had confided in Steve she’d kind of enjoyed it.

“That’s fast.” he said, heading back into the room.

“Yeah they’re really pushing for it.” she said as he dropped besides her with a groan, lifting her legs up so they crossed his lap. As he did so he jostled the bruised ribs and muscles he’d obtained on the Lemurian Star and let out a hiss, rubbing slightly at his torso. Katie spotted this, as always, and frowned, moving her legs so she was sat up, scooting over to where he was and gently tugged at his t-shirt. He didn’t stop her as she examined the large bruise over the side of his ribs and gently ran her fingers over it.

“Ouch.” she said softly, looking up at him and then tilting his face round. He knew there was a small cut on his temple but other than that and the bruise to his side he was uninjured. “Is this it?” she asked, her eyes on his.

He nodded “Got blown through a window.” Because that was a perfectly normal thing for Captain America to do, Katie merely rolled her eyes and dropped a kiss to his cheek as she stood up “I’ll get the arnica and fix you something to eat”

He loved this, the way she just wanted to take care of him, but he was aware of what time it was too, and he didn’t want her to feel like she had to play the dutiful housewife.

“Kitten, you should go to bed, its late.” he grabbed her hand. “Once I’ve patched you up and fed you I will.” she said stubbornly, tugging gently on his hand and he allowed himself to be pulled up “Go take a shower, I’ll sort your dinner…”

This time he didn’t protest, simply smiled, dropped a kiss to her head and headed to the bathroom.

He stepped under the hot water and let out a groan as it hit his body, allowing it temporarily to soothe his mind and his aches. He still couldn’t shake his annoyance at how the mission was gone. Suddenly he was distracted by his stomach grumbling and he realised he was actually really hungry. He quickly washed off before cutting the shower and stepping out, grabbing a towel. He could hear Katie in the kitchen as he walked down the hall towards his bedroom where he dried himself off and dressed in a pair of sweats and a grey T-shirt.

The smell of food hit his nostrils as he walked into the kitchen, making his mouth water. Her food was always good, he had no idea what he was in for tonight but he didn’t care. As he approached where she was stood, both his hands dropped to her hips and he placed a soft kiss on her neck, an easy sign of affection before he let out a heavy sigh and reached into the refrigerator.

“What happened?” she asked, turning to look at him as he downed pretty much an entire bottle of water before he slumped down at the breakfast bar and explained everything to her. She listened, asked questions, shook her head, and when he reached the bit about the ransom she whistled slightly through her teeth, coming to the same conclusion he had when he heard the demand.

“That’s steep.” she frowned and Steve snorted.

“That’s what I said. Turns out its SHIELDS. And it wasn’t drifting. It was trespassing."

The microwave finished and Katie moved to open the door, stirring whatever was in there before removing it and placing it down in front of him, along with a plate of his favourite loaf. He was silent for a moment as he stirred the hot stew, Ghoulash, before taking a small mouthful to test the heat. Damned she could cook. He nodded appreciatively.

“It’s good.” “You sound surprised.” she teased.

“Not at all.” he shook his head. “You know what I think about your cooking.”

He continued to eat as she stood up and fished about in the cupboard he kept the bottle of Arnica gel she’d insisted he keep to hand. As he ate she settled next to him and hitched his shirt up, gently and carefully applying the ointment to his side, the bruise extended from the middle of his rib cage to an inch or so beneath the band of his sweats.

It was relaxing, and he relished her touch and her gentle tone as she continued to talk.

“So did you get the hostages?”

“Yeah.” he nodded, in between mouthfuls. “That bit was pretty easy all things considered…”

“So what’s wrong, love?”

She could tell there was more to his mood than what he had told her, and her instincts were proven right when he let out a soft sigh as she continued to rub at his side softly.

“I’m just annoyed Sweetheart.” He sighed eventually “At Fury, at Romanoff.”

“At Nat? Why?”

“She was given a separate mission, she was tasked with saving SHIELD data off the ship, which meant the task I gave her to back Rumlow up with the hostages wasn’t done…”

“More secrets” she sighed, feeling a flash of anger “You know this is exactly why I got out…legacy or no legacy.”

“Tell me about it.” he said, dropping the spoon into the empty bowl. “We were lucky no one was hurt, or worse. I mean, Rumlow was great, got everyone out but…how can I lead a team when half of them are lying to me?”

“Nat was just doing as she was told.” she said, softly, trying to deal with each issue one at a time.

“Since when is retrieving Intel more important than people’s lives?” he shook his head

“I’m not saying it is. I’m just saying don’t be so hard on her.” she reasoned, her fingers still tracing shapes on his skin “She has a job to do, same as you, and as for Fury then…well, call him out.”

“Oh I intend to.” Steve said, “I’m seeing him tomorrow morning. After de-brief…”

“He will have a reason, might not be what you wanna hear but at least you’ll know.” she said.

She was right, of course. Pushing it from his mind he concentrated on her touch as she was still gently rubbing his side. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh of contentment, and was disappointed when she finally finished and let his t-shirt fall down and then stood up to put the ointment away.

“You want anymore?” she asked, once she’d washed the arnica off her hands.

“Is there any?” he looked at her, hopefully. He did want. He was still hungry.

She smiled, nodding, and then gave a small yawn which she tried to stifle, but Steve noticed it.

“Ok, I’ll warm some more up and you’re gonna go to bed.” he said, standing up “And that’s an order baby doll.”

“Bossy bastard” she retorted. He replied simply with a raised an eyebrow and stern glare as he crossed towards her. She held her hands up, “Ok, I’m going…” She leaned up to kiss to his cheek.

“Won’t be long” he smiled.

Steve had another bowl of food before he slipped the dishes into the dishwasher and headed to the bathroom to clean his teeth. He turned off the lights, headed into the dark bedroom and pulled off his T-shirt, sliding into bed behind her. His arm curled over her waist, surprise surprise she was in one of his shirts, which did nothing to ebb his growing desire and the twitching in his groin. Hoping she wasn’t asleep, his nose gently nuzzled at her neck, and he was pleased when she responded. He needed this. Wanted this. Wanted her.

“When you told me to go to bed…” she murmured, as his lips gently started their assault on that spot “I thought you meant to sleep.” “Want me to stop?” he practically purred into her neck.

“Didn’t say that” she replied, rolling her head to catch his lips as his hand crept down her inner thigh. She let out a contented sigh and he smiled against the side of her neck as he traced over her hip, hand flattening as he crept down and round to the top of her panties, his fingers slipping inside, where he found her hot, wet, ready for him. It was enough to harden him completely as he started to gently tease her, causing her to groan at the pleasure, her back arching. He continued to kiss and caress her neck.

“Steve…” she moaned softly, her tone pleading “I want you…”

Fuck, he would never get tired of hearing that. Ever. 

“Yeah?” he whispered.

“Yeah…please Stevie…” He didn’t think he’d ever be able to say no to her. His hand moved up and he gripped at her hip, gently rolling her so she was lay on her back, using his leg to part hers. He gently guided his shirt over her head, pulled down her panties, before he stripped off his boxers, fingers lacing in between hers, as he crawled over her pinning both hands above her head as he worked his way into her. They both groaned as he stretched her, and she looked up at him, those eyes locking onto his as he leant down to kiss her, starting up a slow, gentle pace. He continued slowly, again and again, lips caressing hers, then her jaw, then her neck, all the time his hands pinning hers to the pillow above her head, causing her to surrender to him completely.

He kept up that soft, gentle pace, loving her gently. He could tell she was close, he knew the signs well enough now and as she groaned in delight, tightening around him he coaxed her “That’s it baby girl…” whispering in her ear.

And then she came, shuddering underneath him, her head tipping back, as she let out a gentle, low, broken moan of his name. It sent shivers down his spine and he continued to thrust through her orgasm, the tale heat spreading across his belly and then he tipped too, jerking and groaning slightly before he fell forward, burying his face in to her neck.

“Love you.” she said softly into his ear as her hand ran up his neck, into his hair and he gave a hum of contentment as he regained control of his senses.

“Love you too, so damned much…” he said, rubbing his nose up against hers and she chuckled slightly as he rolled off of her. She scooted closer so she could lay her head on his chest. His arm curled round her, his hand tracing shapes on her skin at the bottom of her back as she tossed her leg over his.

“What time are you in tomorrow?” she asked gently, hand tracing absentmindedly over his chest.

“Half 9…” he said, fingers still caressing her back.

“We can have breakfast together, I made cinnamon rolls.” she said through her yawn.

“That so?” “mmmhmmm”

“You know, you’d make a good little housewife…” he said, thinking back to his thought before. He knew her response before she had uttered it. “Fuck you.” He chuckled, dropping a kiss to her head and they both fell silent. And his last thought as he drifted off to sleep was just how her being here had made him almost forget that clusterfuck of a mission…

Katie lay still, listening to the sound of his breathing which grew even as he fell asleep, clearly exhausted. He always needed food and rest after missions, his metabolism drained him. She stole a glance up at him, long eyelashes lay against his cheek as his head lolled to the side slightly, facing her.

“Night soldier.” she whispered softly, placing a peck on his lips before settling down and succumbing to her own tiredness. ********* Katie woke the next morning, tangled in Steve’s arms, his face pressed into her neck. As gently as she could she moved to check her phone for the time, and found it to be 25 past 7, 5 minutes before her alarm was due to go off. Cancelling it, she glanced back over at Steve who shifted onto his back, the arm that had been thrown around her gently resting on his chest. Smiling, she climbed out of bed deciding to leave him to sleep as long as she could. Considering what a light sleeper he normally was, he didn’t stir when she returned following her shower and was still out of it when she was dressed and unset the alarm on his bedside clock and headed to the kitchen. She made a fresh pot of coffee, threw the fresh rolls she had made then previous day ready to bake in the oven and settled down on his couch, flipping on the TV whilst she quickly scanned through her phone, looking at her schedule for the day. She only had one meeting in the afternoon, and it wasn’t important so she fired an email through to her PA asking her to reschedule.

At about 8:15, there was still no sign of Steve so she decided to go and wake him up. Any longer and he would be late for his debrief. He was lay side on, facing her side of the bed so she dropped next to him…

Something was tickling his nose, right on the bridge. He gently sniffed, and then soft lips met his. Again, again…Steve made a completely involuntary noise that was halfway between a groan and a sigh as he realised his girl was kissing him awake, before her lips met his and this time he gently responded.

“Hey…” that soft voice greeted him and he smiled, gently cracking an eye open and meeting that emerald green.

“Morning” He said groggily and she smiled.

“It’s almost 8:15.”

He frowned, that was late. “My alarm didn’t wake me?” “I turned it off, sorry-not-sorry” she said so blasé it made him chuckle “You needed the rest.” She gave him a soft kiss again “Coffee in the kitchen and breakfast is ready.” “You know I could get used to this” he smiled, rolling over so he was on his back as she rose from the bed. “Coming home to a ready-made dinner, waking up to ready-made breakfast before I go to work. And you.” “Nice to see which one of those is your priority.” she teased over her shoulder as she left him to it.

“Always you doll.” he murmured. But as he lay still for another few minutes, he thought about it more and more. Over the past 4 months, other than when they were away either on missions or business trips they had spent every night together, either at his or hers but last night, something had felt different to him, more intimate. She’d taken care of his mission injuries, cooked for him, made love to him, and now here she was making him breakfast before she would wave him off to work later on…it was almost normal, what people with normal 9 to 5 jobs did. He wanted that all the time, he wanted to come home, find her there, wake up with her, every single day.

“When you gonna ask her to move in?” Natasha’s voice popped back into his head.

If he was honest, he hadn’t given it a lot of thought, it wasn’t something people did back in his time before marriage. But times were different, hell he was different, and as he lay there thinking about it, he realised, it wasn’t such a bad idea.

Katie was sat at the kitchen table, laptop fired up, mobile glued to her ear when he walked in.

“I know!” her tone was one of utter excitement “I mean I didn’t think they would turn out so good…or they’d be done so fast but they’re pushing for this month’s edition…”

He dropped a kiss to her neck and glanced at the screen, pausing when he saw the image. It must have been one of the photos done whilst she was in New York. He felt his mouth drop open at the image in front of him. Katie was stood, against a wall in her office in the tower, one leg bent, high heeled foot resting against the wall, palms splayed either side of her thighs as she looked to the right. Her hair was pulled back in a slick, high pony tail, her make-up was heavier than normal and utterly flawless, and she was dressed in a grey charcoal pinstripe suit which cinched in at her waist, and a low cut white blouse.

“Yeah, I know Tony…” she was speaking into the phone as she glanced up and saw the expression on his face. She pressed a button on the keyboard and it flipped to another picture, this one of her sat in her chair, legs apart as her elbows rested on her knees, as she looked beyond the camera, laughing at something. She looked absolutely fucking stunning. His eyes roved the image on the digital copy of the article and he began to read the writing that was next to it.

There are a lot of things you might absolutely hate about Katie Stark. Aged just 29 she has more money than anyone could possibly wish to spend in a life-time, looks and a figure that you would kill for, and a Super Soldier Boyfriend with a jawline that seems to be carved from marble. However, after 30 seconds in her company despite wanting to hate her for all of the above, it was simply impossible not to like her.

Unassuming, accommodating, and with a smile that you simply can’t help but return, she welcomed us into her office and was remarkably humble about the entire thing, admitting that she still wasn’t quite so sure why we were so interested in her. We took the time to grill her on how the first 3 months of Stark Independent Publishing LTD has gone and what we can look forward to in the future.

Katie stood up and gestured for him to sit down and carry on reading the article. She headed off into the living room, continuing her call, so he read as he ate a hot cinnamon bun. The article ploughed through a load of questions about the book that had launched the business when they published, the fact the company had already registered over 50% first quarter turnover, where she thought the business was going, future pipeline projects, her favourite authors, genre, books, previous role in Stark Industries before she had spent a few years working for a Government Agency following the Battle of New York (no mention of Supernova or SHIELD…) and then the final paragraph took a personal turn.

When asked if she would indulge us a personal question she sighed slightly before grinning and telling us to ask and see if she answered. So we did…

We know that you’re a notoriously private person, in comparison to your brother anyway, but most of our readers are dying to know…what’s it like dating Captain America? 

“No idea, I’m dating Steve Rogers.” she replied immediately, a faint flush hitting her cheeks as she spoke, all the time fiddling with a delicate yet gorgeous antique looking emerald ring which sits on her right hand, a gift we suspect from the man in question. When asked to elaborate slightly she bit her lip and simply smiled before explaining; “Steve isn’t just Captain America. There’s more to him than a shield. He’s the kindest, gentlest, most caring man I’ve ever met and he makes me unbelievably happy.” she said, the blush spreading from her cheeks to her ears “And that’s not down to the Serum or outfit, it’s just who he is. The fact he’s 6ft2, drop dead gorgeous with a smile I’d happily die for is a bonus”

Steve felt himself grin as he read the words and glanced at the small photo they had framed the paragraph round. It was a shot of them together that had been taken at the Stark Industry’s New Year’s Gala. Katie was in that red dress he loved, laughing at something and he was simply pressing a kiss to the side of her temple. A soft, understated PDA, but a reminder to everyone (in particular Mr Wandering Hands) who had eyed her up and down as they had entered the room that she was his. His eyes continued to the final part of the article, this one complete with a picture of Katie and Tony. Katie sat at her desk as Tony leaned over, looking at something on the computer screen. 

When asked about the other man in her life, her brother Tony, she smiled again, another genuine smile, the love she has for her elder sibling evident on her face and in her voice.

“I owe everything I have to Tony.” she said, simply “he brought me up from the age of 7, gave me absolute, unconditional love and opportunities I know I was extremely fortunate to have. People have a pre-conceived image of what he is like, and sometimes he can play into that, but to me he’s been nothing but loving and supportive, my father and brother rolled into one and I can’t thank him enough for everything he has done and given me. He backed my decision to open SIP from the off and believed in me and has always pushed me to be the best I can be.”

We couldn’t resist another personal question, so we asked her a little cheekily how Tony had reacted to news that she was dating one of his fellow Avengers, who had served alongside their Father Howard in WW2. Hesitating slightly, she flushed before smirking and answering, a grin on her face.

“How he found out wasn’t ideal…” No shit! Steve found himself snorting as he continue to read “But once he had read Steve the Big Brother riot act, he was fine about it. I think deep down after my last car crash of a relationship, he’s just happy I’m with someone who puts me first.”

Do they get on? She laughs “They have a love-hate relationship. In that they hate the fact they love one another. Tony has these ridiculous nicknames for Steve and he can be an absolute nightmare at times, but to be fair Steve’s quite sarcastic himself too but I know full well that they have each other’s 6 and even though they would probably deny it, they are quite close and would miss one another if they weren’t around.”

Steve, grudgingly, had to admit she was right. Tony could be a pain in the ass at times, but he would miss the billionaire if he wasn’t there. Underneath all his bravado he knew that he thought the world of his sister and, despite their initial meeting whereby Steve frankly thought the guy was a dick, he’d fast learnt during the Chitauri Battle that underneath that persona he had a heart of gold and was more like his father than he would care to admit. A fact that Steve was even more convinced of having gotten to know him much better on a personal level over the last 2 years or so.

Whilst the siblings certainly share a lot of attributes, both good looking, tough, hard-working, Katie has a certain softness to her edges and we challenge anyone who spends more than 30 seconds in her company not to warm to the youngest Stark. Stark Independent Publishing has, in our opinion, a very bright future ahead of it whilst it is spearheaded by such an astute and shrewd business woman and we wish her all the best.

“What do you think?” Katie watched as Steve read the article, leaning against the wall, nibbling at her thumb, nervous to see his reaction.

Steve jerked his head round and smiled at her. “I think its fantastic. The photos are stunning, the article is well written. Are you happy with it?” “Yeah.” she nodded as she walked over to his chair, standing behind it and slipping her arms round his shoulders from behind “They wouldn’t drop the whole So you’re dating Captain America angle though, so our PR department told me to answer a few personal questions to shut them up…are you ok with it?” Steve smiled and turned side on in his seat, pulling her into his lap. “Seeing as I’m the kindest, gentlest, most caring man you’ve ever met how could I not be?” “I meant every word of that.” she said, rubbing her nose against his as he smiled.

“I know baby.” he said, giving her a peck on the lips. “Now I need to go or I’m gonna be late.”

Sighing she stood up as he did the same, grabbing a final cinnamon bun from the plate.

“I’ll be back at mine” she said as she walked to the door with him, “I have a few calls to do this morning.” “I’ll come over when I’m done.” he smiled “And we can do something this afternoon.”

She smiled “Sounds perfect”

*********

Tags

@the-omni-princess​

@momobaby227​

@geekofmanythings16​

[thehomierobbstark]

Do you think Erik likes being in front of the camera? Like if his woman was a photographer and asked him to do an x rated photo shoot just for their eyes only. I’m talking baby oil and everything, would he be a little nervous?

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A/N:  First, l want to say that I absolutely LOVE this question.  I know I’ve been sitting on it for a minute, but every time I read it I get so many ideas in my head of how this would go, and I love how unique this thought is.  I also really wanted to incorporate the above twitter post into a story, so I figured this would be the perfect opportunity! I broke this up into two parts because I felt like it would flow better, so more is to come for this. As always, thank you for asking!  I hope you enjoyed my interpretation of this!

Warnings: At the bottom 👇🏿👇🏿👇🏿.

This is for all my lil cute ass black gorditas out there rockin back fat, belly rolls and thick ass thighs that touch!!  x Reader is always gon be black, chubby, and sassy.

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“I want you to come home.”

Erik lies face up on the arm of the couch, his long legs making his feet dangle over the edge on the other side, his huge body taking up all the space in the middle.  He throws an arm over his forehead, blowing a raspberry and playing with the coiled extension cord that strung out from the base on the wall.

He was soo bored, waiting for her to get back to keep him company and make his night much more interesting.

“Baby, you know I’m working late tonight.  I won’t be back for another few hours, I’ve got one more client left to shoot.”  Y/N looks out the large glass window of her downtown studio, looking at the traffic pile up down below.  

She hears him groan on the other side of the line, followed by the sound of shuffling.

Erik sits up, leaning over the back of the couch to look at the wall clock.  6:47.  He kisses his teeth, pressing the phone back to his ear as he lays back down.

“Is this that same picky ass indie chick that cancelled on you twice already?”  The bass in his voice comes out, and she can tell by the way his breathings changed that his nostrils are probably flared out in irritation and his grip on the phone is tighter.

It was 6:47 on a Friday night, and instead of being laid up on the couch with him, his baby was still at the studio waiting on some flake.

“You should’ve told her to find somebody else, my baby time far too valuable to be sitting around for some bummy ass knotted haired white chick to show up.”

“Relax, babe! Please? She called earlier and told me she’d be here at 7:15.  I’m good babe, I promise.”  Her voice is soft and soothing in his ear, and the veins in his forehead smooth down at her request.

Fine.  He’d relax.  But only because she’d told him to.

Rolling over to his side, he changes the subject, not wanting his own sour mood to influence hers before the shoot.

“You eat yet?”

“…No,” she admits, voice meek.

“I’ve been caught up in portfolios since three, but I’ll see if I can take a break around 8:30 and order in.  Maybe that Indian place down the street?”

It was one of her favorites, and she’d discovered it one day when she was scoping the area for her studio a few years ago.

“You ain’t eat since WHEN? Uh uh. I’m coming down there Y/N.  That lady got you and me fucked up.”

He shoots up from his spot on the couch, reaching over to grab his Nike Air Bakin’s he’d kicked off earlier.

“Erik-”

“Nah babe, that bird not coming, and my girl not going hungry a second longer.  Call up that Indian place and order what you want. I’m on my way.”

She doesn’t even have a chance to dispute the plan before he air kisses her over the phone and hangs up, the hum of the dead line left ringing in her ear.

“Well, OK then,” she shrugs, and she holds down the switch, listening for the dial tone before typing in the number to Akbars Indian Restaurant.

~

At 7:30, Erik rolls into the parking structure under the building, the warm to-go boxes of Indian food filling the car with their mouth watering aroma.  He’d taken it upon himself to order a couple extra samosas and garlic naan, even though Y/N said she was swearing off carbs a couple days ago.  

He knew she loved the baked goods, and even though she didn’t agree, he loved the way she looked when she carried some extra weight on her.  All he wanted to do was keep her fat, happy, and laughing.  

His perfect little plump princess.

He keys himself into the building, riding the freight elevator all the way up to the top floor.  He lifts up the gate with one hand, stepping onto the dark marble floor of the wide open space and hearing the melody of soft jazz echoing around from the overhead speakers.

She often liked to work while playing music, stating that it helped to get her mind in the zone.  He eases up on his heavy footsteps to quietly navigate his way through the hallways, the veins in his forehead making a comeback.  

Even if that bird did end up showing up he didn’t care, she was just gonna have to wait in the lobby or some shit while he pulled Y/N aside for a lunch break.  And if she had any problems about that she could speak directly to him.  He had a few things of his own he wouldn’t mind getting off his chest.

He turns the corner into the main room, seeing a white backdrop and studio lighting on the far wall, the reception desk mirroring it on the other end of the room.

A few white leather couches decorated the space in the middle surrounding a dark oakwood coffee table, and off to the side laid an old quilted blanket with a couple floor pillows thrown on top, looking out of place.

He puts the food down on the coffee table and walks around, looking to see where Y/N is.  Before he can exit out into one of the neighboring storage rooms, she appears from around the corner, carrying some silver utensils and napkins from the kitchen as well as a couple bottles of water.

Her face warms as she sees him, mouth spreading open to reveal that gorgeous million dollar smile of hers that Erik couldn’t get enough of.

“You’re here,” her voice is airy and light, and he walks to meet her halfway, enveloping her into his arms.  She lets herself be engulfed, burying the side of her face into his chest.

They stay like that for a few minutes, no words being said as they hold each other, Erik making soft grunts of contentment as he presses kisses into the top of her head.  He lets the smells of her blueberry scented hair products fill his nostrils, taking in a huge breath.

“I missed you.” He finally speaks, and she leans her head back, neck craned as she looks up at him, resting her chin on his stomach.

“I missed you too,” she smiles, and she links her arms together behind him, his head dipping down low to kiss her on the lips, groaning lowly at how soft and plush like they feel against his.  

He closes his eyes, letting his mouth lazily rest on top of hers, too comfortable to move away.

“Where patchouli at?” He mumbles against her mouth, and she snorts a laugh.

“She not coming.”  She sighs, and he sniffs, giving her an admonishing Uh huh, told yo ass.

“Whatever,” she grunts, peeking around him towards the coffee table, the smell of the Indian food sparking the interest of her nose and her stomach.

She tries to pull away to go check out the awaited meal, but he pulls her back, whining from the back of his throat.

“Mmm nooo, I’m not done yet.” He lays his head on top of hers and holds her in place, her weak little attempts at wiggling out of his grasp failing miserably.

“Mooveee,” she moans at him, fake crying. ��I’m hungryy.”

He can hear the pout in her words, and he smacks his gums and lifts off of her, succumbing to his baby girl.

“Fine.  But I’m laying on you while you eat.”  He takes her hand and leads her over to the blanket and pillows on the floor, grabbing the bag of food on the way.

“Baby ass…” she comments under her breath, but his ears pick up it, and he drops her hand, swatting her on the butt.

“Yeah and you love it too, don’t even front.”  He remarks confidently, and a bashful smile pokes at her cheeks that she fights from becoming full blown.  She did love it.

They sit, working together to lay out the food, Y/N grabbing one of the brussels sprouts out of the container and popping it into her mouth, chewing hungrily as she finishes filling up her plate.

She sits cross legged, digging in as Erik settles himself with his head in her lap, the rest of his body sprawled out on the floor far out of the range of the blanket.  He doesn’t care at all though, rubbing his large palms against her thighs and nudging his face under her shirt to kiss at her increasingly expanding stomach, happy to see all of the items on his list of three being fulfilled.

He munches on some of the food eventually too, mainly after she’d shoved one of the potato samosas into his mouth to stop his nipping at her tummy so she could finish in peace.  

After scooping the last bits of saag paneer into her mouth, she packs up the leftovers, Erik taking it to go put it in the staff refrigerator.  She folds up the floor blanket, dumping it and the pillows into one of the storage chests lined against the wall.

Before she even realizes he’s back in the room, Erik latches back onto her, wrapping his arms around the front of her waist and puling her back into him, humming into her neck and rubbing her full belly.

“You gon gimme a tour now?” He asks her, and she laughs at their little ongoing joke.

Y/N always changed around the decor and artwork of the studio, utilizing the projects of her latest clients and collaborations to give her fresh ideas and inspiration for upcoming shoots.  

Every few weeks there was a new theme, and since Erik could only visit a couple times a month because of his own busy schedule, every time he came it was like a new experience for him.

Since it was February, her current theme was “Black Love,” her way of honoring both the cultural celebration for the month and the Valentine’s Day celebration that fell in the middle.  There were portraits of several of her old clients hung around each studio room, like family portraits, engagement photo shoots, and maternity spreads.

Each studio had a different focus, too, so it was almost like walking through a museum the way that each room told it’s own story.

Since Erik had wedged himself back into his favorite spot - arms around her shoulders and nose buried in her hair - she had no choice but to waddle herself (and his) out into the hallway to begin the tour, starting with the first door on her left.

Opening the door, they step in, immediately hit with the scent of cinnamon and soft vanilla, and it feels like the aura of the room wrapped them in its arms for a warm, comforting embrace.

“I present to you: Studio One; Age Ain’t Nothin But a Number.”  She smiles lightly to herself at the name she’d borrowed from Aaliyah’s infamous first album.  She’d absolutely loved the artist since childhood, and wanted to pay homage to her legacy, honoring her the right way.

The color scheme was a shimmered gold and deep burgundy, the colors immediately, reminding Erik of his friends grandparents house he’d often visit after school back in Oakland.  Their house smelled exactly the same, and he could even spot the cinnamon broom sticks in the corner, giving off the fragrant smell.

The couch was vintage but it wasn’t old, and the carpet under his feet had him flashing back to the countless nights he’d spent on one just like it playing hot wheels and street fighter Sega matches.  

The whole room reminded him of his childhood, a feeling somewhere between nostalgia and longing striking him in the chest.  It was solidified even further for him when he looked up at the wall and saw the portraits that were hung around.  

Staggered along the wall were pictures of older black couples, some by themselves, and some of couples portraits.

The biggest picture hung in the middle, and it was of a young black couple, maybe early to mid thirties, the man a deep chocolate and the woman and ebony goddess.

It wasn’t until Erik took a closer look that he noticed the clothing they wore appeared to be from an older time.  As he studied their facial features, he realized that all of the pictures in the room were of them, just at different ages.

“One of my first clients,” she speaks from under his chin.  He’d walked them further into the room, stopping in front of the wide portrait to get a better look.

“They came in for a shoot to celebrate their 60th wedding anniversary and they told me their story.  How they met, their first kiss, their first ‘I love you’s’.  Four kids and eight grandkids later, and this is the legacy they’ll be leaving behind.”  She smiles warmly as her eyes roam around the walls, taking in the history of their love.

“I asked if I could feature them in this months theme and in return restore their old photos for them, and they happily agreed.  They even lent some photos of their own parent’s for me to use.”

She points over to the corner of the room, Erik shuffling the both of them over to look at the aged photos from another time.

The both of them observe silently for a few moments, finally separating from each other to explore on their own.  Since Y/N had already seen the collection, she hung by the door, watching as Erik walked around the room like he was visiting and exhibit.

“I wanted this room to represent love in it’s truest form, and how it can survive through the years if you’re willing to put in the work.  It’s never too late to find love, or do everything you can to keep it alive.”

The entire display was absolutely beautiful, and after Erik was done soaking in everything, he felt as if he’d experienced this couples love story, right along side them.

“What are their names?” He asks her, making his way back to her to assume his original position.

“Judy and Maurice Jackson.”  She answers, and it’s almost as if by saying their names it breathes life into the room.

“This is amazing, baby.  You’re so incredibly talented,”  he praises her, and he brings her hand up to his mouth to kiss her knuckles, making her cheeks warm shyly.

“Thank you Erik,” she whispers back, and she kisses him on the cheek before grabbing his arm and pulling him out of the room, turning off the lights and shutting the door behind them.

For the next hour, that’s how they spend their time; moving from studio to studio as Y/N explains the story behind each idea.

The themes explored parental love, familial love, friendship, and cultural identity, the last one detailing just a few examples of how diverse and expansive black culture is in the United States.

Each studio had it’s own name as well, titled in order: ‘Me and Your Mama’, ‘We Are Family’, ‘Way Back’, and ‘Say It Loud’.

The last studio was a private one that Y/N had been working on for the last couple months to get it prepared for a new service she was offering in the spring.

The service would only be available to select clients, but she’d been dying to give it a test run.

Luckily, her favorite client had decided to drop by today of all days, giving her the perfect opportunity to try it out.

Approaching the closed door, she slides herself out from under Erik, instructing him to stay put while she goes inside to get the room ready.

Thinking it’s an interactive theme, he stays put, his only complaint being for her to hurry up because it was cold without her.

A few minutes pass with Erik out in the hallway by himself, and when she finally opens up the door, her small body is looking up at his, her favorite DSLR camera around her neck with a 28mm lens attached to it.

Before he has a chance to voice his confusion she pulls him into the room, shutting the door behind her.

This studio is significantly bigger than the other ones, large enough to fit an entire California King size bed and two sofas, one a suede midnight black and the other a leather blood red.  Fur pelts decorate the ends of the couches, and a gigantic faux white fur rug sits in the middle of the floor.

A couple lighting setups are sitting in the corner of the room, along with a few shaded lamp covers, one in purple, one in red, and the other in white.

Over the bed hangs a low hanging chandelier with both red and purple bulbs alternating around it.

Erik hadn’t said a word since he’d stepping into the space, just the sound of his footsteps as he walks around the room, observing everything.

His curiosity leads him over to a table on the far side of the room, and he picks up one of the many bottles of baby oil sitting on top of it.

He turns around, and his face says it all.

“Y/N….” She can hear the unnervingly calm tone in his voice, meaning that she had about 5 seconds to start explaining before he put a hit out on all her male coworkers.

“Okay BEFORE you start freaking out, just wait a minute and listen.”

His nostrils flare out a little bit and he works his jaw, putting the bottle down and crossing his arms.

“You got one minute.”

She launches into her rehearsed pitch, already having practiced it in her head ten times before she even opened the door to let him in.

“Spring is coming up, and I want to offer a new service to returning customers who’d expressed their interest in the past when I brought it up.  I’ve done their maternity shoots, their engagement portraits, their anniversary photos, and now I want to try my hand at…boudoir photography.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but she cuts him off, still having 30 seconds on the clock.

“It’ll only have a trial run of two months and I already have five clients booked.  It won’t become a permanent service yet until I can get feedback from them, but… I need someone to test it out on first before I can start.”

His eyes grow wide at that, his eyebrows almost up to his hairline.  He’d met a few of her loyal clients, and while he tried to keep it under control, he couldn’t help but be a little bit cautious when it came to some of them.  

She was adored and loved by all of them, and on more than one occasion he felt like a few of the women had tried shooting their shot at her, right in front of him.

When he’d brought it up she’d laughed it off, telling him he was just being paranoid because she was bisexual, but he knew what was up.

No way anyone could just take one look at Y/N and not be immediately drawn to her; she had that effect on people.  He had to protect what they had, and he wasn’t about to just watch it slip through his fingers.

“Nah babe, Ion like it.  You already got way too many people up in here tryna get atchu, they don’t need an entire room dedicated to giving them an opportunity.  Get one of your interns to do it.”  The plain look on his face combined with his still crossed arms indicated that the conversation was over, and there would be no further discussion on the topic.  

He must’ve forgot who he was fucking with.

She narrows her eyes, taking a step towards him.

“First of all, I wasn’t asking for your permission, I was telling you about my next business venture.  I’m a grown ass woman and this is my business.  You have no say here, Erik.”

His eyebrows were raised again, but for a different reason this time. It wasn’t often that he and his girl got into arguments, but when they did he always got just a little bit aroused at the fire in her eyes when she started going off.

She continued.

“Second of all, my interns aren’t paid to soothe your bruised ego, they’re paid to assist me when need and to gain valuable experience in their field.  So try again.”  She’d gotten increasingly closer with each word, and before either of them realize it she’s back in front of him again, her presence dominating.

He gives her a once over before laughing humorlessly, looking away for a moment before speaking again.  

“So, what? I’m not even allowed to have an opinion on this?” His brows are furrowed together, eyes concentrated on her face.

Her own facial features soften, and she reaches out with one hand, holding his face in her palm and stroking her thumb over his cheek.

“Aww babe, of course you’re allowed to have an opinion.”  A small smile appears on her lips, and she finishes her statement.  “Just make sure you have it quietly.”

She drops her hand and turns and walks away to finish setting up one of the light fixtures in front of the bed.

He stares at the back of her head as she goes, burning holes into it with his blazing thoughts.

She was completely right.  He had no place trying to take control over her ideas regarding her studio, especially after just seeing how amazing the outcome could be when she had creative license.

Even so, he couldn’t help but to be pissed with the way his princess was speaking to him.  He’d have to remind her before they left tonight about keeping that mouth of hers in check when she was popping off at him like that.  He figured a few backshot sessions over the front desk would be a good memory refresher for her.

Reaching down to adjust himself through his pants, he grunts in acceptance, following her over to where she was.

“Well, do I at least get to have a loud opinion on who it is you’re gonna be testing this out with?” He pouts.

She clicks the soft white shade into place on the camera, then walks over to the light switch to turn off the main fluorescent lights and tun on the red ones, their subtle glow primarily on and around the bed.

“I hope so baby.  Because you’re the one whose gonna be testing out for me.”

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Warnings: Fluff, Humor, SoftBoi! Erik

[magewriter]

Kalex: Alpha/Omega (no smut necessary) Someone has tampered (possibly Lex or Lord) with the suppressants to make them redundant in National City so the DEO need to make an emergency supply, unfortunately everyone is suffering the affect of theirs not working, Kara loses her powers due to heat approaching and Alex get ferociously protective about Kara when others start sniffing around her. If this is the kind of thing you would rather not write I totally understand.

Here you go, and thanks for the prompt!

So…that Happened

Someone has tampered with the suppressants to make them redundant in National City. The DEO and other scientists rush to fix it, unfortunately everyone is suffering the affect of theirs not working.

Oh I do love a challenge!

Words: 1499

I own nothing and this is in response to a fic request on tumblr. Please send more!

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Later, Maxwell Lord would swear that his intention had not been the end result. His goal had been to create a pheromone that would repel non-humans, ostentatiously geared toward pests but suspected to be a bio-weapon against aliens.

What he actually created and subsequently released via ‘lab accident’ caused the suppressants taken by the humans and other species whose biology followed alpha/beta/omega lines to become redundant. Thankfully, the effect had not been able to travel beyond the edge of the city limits.

At first, no one thought anything of it. The product on hand was disposed of and new was brought it. The first cycle was a little rough, but people were at least prepared for it.

The second was worse because everyone thought they were safe.

The DEO, L-Corp, and even CADMUS got to work trying to undo what Lord had done. As the suppressants worked their way out of systems, heats and ruts were rougher and more prevalent. Violence skyrocketed as those unmated and young fought to control urges no longer under their control.

“Alex, you need to sleep.” Kara tugged on her alpha’s shirt. “Please.”

The Kryptonian was a mess. She had been out almost full-stop breaking up and trying to deescalate fights between everyone. She had never seen betas so stressed out trying to keep the peace. The entire city had been placed under quarantine and martial law.

It didn’t help that the closer her heat came, the weaker she was. It wasn’t a solar flare, but she wasn’t superpowered either.

“We need to fix this,” Alex growled. “We can’t keep living like this.” She had already thrashed several other alphas over their leering at Kara.

Kara wrapped her arms around the older woman. “I know,” she whimpered. They weren’t mated yet, although it wasn’t for lack of trying on Kara’s part.

Alex was stubborn.

“I know, but you aren’t going to find the solution if you exhaust yourself. Even Lena’s taking a break, although that might be because otherwise she would be killing her board members.”

“I’ll help her hide the bodies,” Alex grunted. She turned, wrapping her own arms around Kara and burying her face in the blonde’s neck. She took in the omega’s scent and felt her knees buckle. “Rao Kara, how close is your heat?”

Kryptonians only went into heat or rut three times a year. Humans went roughly every six to eight weeks. Alex felt as if she had been in hell for the last six months. The suppressants offered by the DEO were stronger than what was openly available to the public so had lasted longer, but not by much.

“Maybe a few days,” Kara admitted softly. She knew Alex’s rut was even closer, could feel it.

“And you’ve still been out,” Alex felt the growl building in her chest. It was going to be like high school all over again.

“Someone has to be.” James and Winn were out of commission. Many at the DEO were in the same shape. Lucy had already locked herself and Vas up in a cell. J’onn could only be in so many places. M’gann had taken the form of a Green Martian to help him. Nia had been sent home because she had been using her powers to the point of nosebleeds, partly due to the stress of being a beta.

The whole city had gone insane.

“Not you this close to your heat,” Alex insisted. She looked up just in time to catch sight of several agents she knew to be alphas looking into her lap, their focus on the blonde in her arms.

She snarled, showing off the incisors that were sharper with the onset of her rut. Kara was hers. Her hold tightened.

Kara huffed. “We could avoid the posturing if you weren’t so stubborn.”

Alex huffed. “You really want to bind yourself to me?”

“I have since we were teenagers,” Kara nipped at Alex’s neck.

“Kara,” Alex hissed.

Kara whimpered, burying her face into Alex’s neck. “Alex, please.”

Alex grit her teeth. If she gave in…

So what if she did? They weren’t teenagers anymore. They were practically already together.

What was the worst that would happen: they would end up happy?

She was already happiest when she was with Kara.

“Home, now,” Alex growled.

They emerged from the apartment three days later, fresh markings on their necks and far more relaxed than possibly ever. Kara was having a difficult time keeping her feet on the ground. Alex’s hand in hers was probably the only thing keeping her from floating away.

Alex felt the same way. Her mind was buzzing, clearer than it had been in months.

Their calm was broken by their shared best friend storming into Alex’s lab.

“Where the hell have you been?” The frazzled Lena Luthor demanded. She wrinkled her nose as she took them in. “Fucking finally. Have you had any time to look over the latest panels?”

“Just doing so now,” Alex held up the file. “I had an idea…and are you okay?”

Eyes blown, she stared at them as if they had lost their minds. “While you’ve been wallowing in mating bliss, I have come this close,” she held her hand up, “to murdering my entire board, my mother, and every fucking alpha that came within five feet of me.”

“Lena, sweetheart,” Kara took her hand, “your fingers are touching. Have you eaten or slept at all in the last week?”

“Are there any bodies you need help hiding?” Alex glanced up from the files. “And this should work.”

“Alex,” Kara glowered at her. “Lena, let’s get you some food and a bed. Alex can start working on the suppressants while we do that, okay?” Gently, she guided the other woman out of the lab and towards the cafeteria.

“I’m serious about the bodies!” Alex called after them, chuckling at Kara’s indignation and Lena’s comment on keeping it in mind.

She dove into the research Lena had poured her frustrations and stress into. Her beta friend was a genius in many ways, even if she was bad at taking care of herself. It was a good thing they had Kara to take care of them.

Her mate was no slouch in the intelligence department either, and it was Kara who pointed out the missing link in their formula.

They had new suppressants out within four days.

“If he ever leaves the cell you threw him in, remind me to buy out more of his company,” Lena settled back into her chair in the Danvers’ apartment. She raised her wine glass. “To never having to deal with this kind of mess ever again.”

“Here, here!” Alex raised her beer bottle and clinked it against Lena’s glass.

“To us,” Kara added her can of soda to the toast, “and our ability to thwart megalomaniacs with ideas of grandeur.”

Lena snorted. “Yes, and against a supposed genius who got his grand plan from a Saturday morning cartoon.”

Kara snorted. Lena wasn’t far off the mark. She leaned back further against Alex, allowing the scent of her mate to surround her even as Alex’s free arm came up to wrap around her shoulders to bring her even closer.

Lena smirked at them. “You both won me a lot of money and favors, mating when you did.”

Kara giggled. “That’s what Jess said, also something about a vacation on a private island off the coast somewhere?”

“Consider it my wedding gift,” she told them. “There is a wedding to be had, isn’t there?”

Alex held up her wrist where an amber-colored metal bracelet with the El crest now rested. Kara wore a matching one. “This is good enough for me, although my mother might have an issue of no actual ceremony.”

“We can have one,” Kara set her drink aside so she could stretch out on the couch with her head in Alex’s lap. “But I do agree with Alex on not wanting some large affair.”

“So a judge and a few witnesses,” Lena replied.

Both of her friends laughed at the idea. The marks on their necks and the bracelets on their wrists were more than enough for them.

Still…

“Oh please, you two act as if anyone would actually be surprised.” Lena downed her glass. “J’onn has money on the Wednesday three weeks from now. I only beat him out on this by two days.”

Neither questioned how she knew who had bets when.

“Isn’t it cheating if you share that information?” Kara turned her head to look at her. Alex readjusted her hand so she could continue stroking the blonde’s hair.

“Only if I use it for personal gain.”

“You want to make sure James doesn’t win.” Alex smirked at their friend.

“Perhaps,” she smiled smugly at them. “Did you know that Major Lane and Agent Vasquez are expecting? There’s already a pool going on the sex of the pups.”

“Oh we know,” Alex smiled down at Kara. “They aren’t the only ones.”

[davidfostercomedyblog]

My Trip to Paris: A Review

Like any typical heterosexual male the idea of engagement photos seemed as appealing to me as that of a fantasy football league might to most heterosexual women. Nevertheless, I am happily engaged to the latter, and in cliché fashion conceded to said photo shoot, and have never been so grateful for a decision.

It was a week before our European vacation, and our (French) photographer asked us: “Where will you be staying when you go to Paris?”

“We got a hotel in Nice, Airbnb in Paris.”

“Oh, you better make sure they have air conditioning,” she informed us. “Most Parisians don’t have A/C’s. The units are considered ‘unsightly.’”

Umm… seriously?

The forecast for our upcoming trip was to reach record highs in temperature. Not record highs for July or our particular dates. Record highs. It was going to be 109… degrees! The hottest two days in the history of Paris, on which we’d scheduled a walk to the Louvre, then down the Seine River, and up the gabillion steps of Sacre Couer, at the end of which I’d implicitly scheduled a good night’s sleep, which would be impossible without air conditioning.

I reviewed our booking on Airbnb, and sure enough there was no A/C. When I emailed our would-be host to confirm this preposterous notion she responded: “I have a great fan though.”

Good for you.

Our late cancellation was the happiest we’ve ever been to eat $240. We had a hideous air conditioner in our otherwise lovely, entirely red suede hotel room in Villa Opera Drouotin Montmartre. There was red everywhere. Red wallpaper, red blankets, even a 360 red velvet seat in the red lobby. But it was cool, literally. It was the greatest continental breakfast we’ve ever had in our lives, and we were happy.

The first thing I noticed upon arrival at the airport was the urinals. I’ve never seen bulls’ eyes of such small diameter. Do the French have better aim?

Second was the plethora of friendly assistants at the train station, all of them fluent in English, all eagerly awaiting the opportunity to help even the most dumbfounded of tourists, which pin-pointedly described us. Can you imagine such an experience with a New York MTA worker? They look at you like instead of “Excuse me,” you opened with a derogatory slur and are requesting they literally carry you on their back to your desired destination. Paris: 1. NYC: 0

Next we sat on the train, which was faster and cleaner than New York’s, though that goes without saying, as every train on the planet, I imagine including those of third world countries, is much cleaner than New York’s. Paris: 2. NYC: 0.

We sat next to college kids, two French and one British, who were making fun of American tourists’ stereotypical ideas of Paris being this “romantic town, where everyone just gets cheese and wine and a baguette and eats it all on the streets.” When we got off the train I swear to God all I kept seeing were locals walking along the sidewalk eating baguettes or sitting at outdoor restaurants drinking wine and smoking cigarettes.

Baguettes were everywhere. I saw old men walking along the street chewing away at them, sometimes plain, others with ham and/or cheese stuffed inside. I saw young girls with grocery bags full of baguettes, others with just the one long one they’d need for that evening, way too large to fit in the designer pocketbook held in their other arm. Older women, young men, apparently poor people, rich people, black, white and Hispanic people (just kidding, there’s no Hispanics in Europe) – it seemed everyone had a baguette. I digress.

We weren’t sure if the cliché college kid pontifications were for our benefit, but I chose not to respond, a) becausewe weren’t sure, b) engaging in philosophical debate with college kids makes as much sense as engaging in confrontation with the schizophrenic homeless guy on the 6 train, and c) I was so jetlagged that they probably could have spread brie cheese all over my face and put their cigarette butts out in the mush and I would have let it slide. Whoever can get more than a few hours sleep on those red eyes are as gifted in my mind as Michael Jordan or David Blaine. Finally, the kids’ insults were at “Americans,” which I don’t identify as anyway. We’re New Yorkers - not Americans. There’s a difference.

We were two hours early for check-in, so decided to maximize our tourist time by taking the 20-minute walk from Montmartre to Sacre Couer.

Jesus, was it hot. It was 105 degrees. The walk was perpetually uphill and when we finally arrived there were more staircases than in the MTA’s latest atrocity, the 86thSt. Q train. What a moronic architectural disgrace that is.

We bought water from a local store and the lady didn’t even offer us a plastic bag. None of the stores did for entire whole trip. They all had them behind the counter if you needed, but I never saw anyone take one. Paris: 3. NYC: 0.

I could feel sunburn setting in. I took off my long sleeve shirt and threw it over my head to protect myself. The Asian tourists kept their umbrellas up for protection (though when do they not?), and the Italians were next to naked (though when are they not?). The heat was inescapable. It felt like the temperature was climbing along with us up the steps. Instead of a church, it was as if we were making the pilgrimage in Egypt. We had to take regular breaks and be mindful to breathe and stay hydrated, and constantly remind ourselves: “This is vacation, we’re having fun. This is fun. It’s vacation. This is… this is… this hot as fucking hell. Let’s take a lap around this church and go home.”

Sacre Couer is gorgeous: Incredible view of the city outside, and even better art inside. A local came over and requested I remove my hat, and I wasn’t sure whether my Americanism or Judaism was more apparent. We put hats on intentionally in our place of worship.

Finally checked in the hotel, we passed out for two hours in the coolest bedroom in Paris and woke up rejuvenated. We had dinner reservations at Derriereat 19:30, which was the earliest possible reservation because 19:30 is what time Derriere opens, which is just about the fanciest thing I’ve ever heard of.

Our table wasn’t even ready yet, but the maitre’d was friendly.

“Please, have a seat, we’ll get you a glass of wine and let you know when the kitchen’s open.”

Lovely!

Even my fiancée, who is rouge-exclusive, opted for white because of the climate, and it was the best white wine either of us had ever tasted in our pathetic American lives. Pouilly Fumé, crisp, minerally, dry and perfect and it was 6 euro, half what it would be back home.

We waited and waited, watched a few other parties get ushered into the restaurant ahead of us, and wondered if we should say something. I got up to remind the host of our presence, and he was flamboyantly sweet, super pleasant and matter-of-factly excited to seat us.

Ahh, Europe. Is it possible for a constant intake of alcohol, tobacco, bread and cheese to be physiologically offset by a complete lack of urgency and adherence to time?

When we finally got inside we found an adorable, almost hipstery chic spot that had apparently been someone’s home converted into a restaurant. We each sat in our own cushiony love seat across from one another in a spread out living room/library/game room as an active ping pong table was set about three feet behind my head.

Our waiter, Tyler, was from Canada, hence boasted the perfect hybrid of debonair French style with a western work ethic. We were relieved that he spoke English, but soon discovered so does 90% of the country. Tyler was jovial and handsome and encouraging of our order choices. The duck was insane – the best we’d ever had – the braised beef with zucchini was even better.

“Fuck you,” my fiancée kept exclaiming at how blown away she was by the food. I was happy we were able to show the local Parisians how New Yorkers applaud quality – by cursing it out.

We could have returned the knives, as the meats would have fallen off their bones with even the side of the same soup spoon we used to eat the best Gazpacho I’d ever tasted. With dinner we had the best rouge in the house for only 14 Euro per glass, and as a reward Tyler and the sommelier came over and insisted we all do a shot of rum. We were adequately buzzed with bellies full of beef… and bread. The whole experience was magnefique.

We followed Tyler’s recommendations for the night (we would have followed Tyler into the gates of Hell), on to cocktails at The Little Red Door, and although neither my fiancée nor I are very much into cocktails you couldn’t help but trust in the elitist mixology menu. Drinks were fantastic. We ended up yukking it up with some gay New Yorkers coincidentally seated next to us on the couch, mostly over how superior the culture everywhere else in the world is to America, with the exception of New York – one of my favorite topics of conversation.

We walked the mile home because time flies while walking through any city. We stopped twice for some nightcaps and allowed the city lights to fuel our way. Although New York is the “city that never sleeps” Paris is apparently the city that always eats. 1:00 in the morning on a Wednesday night and it seemed almost every restaurant with outdoor seating was not only open, but practically filled with locals literally and figuratively chewing the fat. Any potential for jet lag and heat exhaustion had been instantly healed by meat and alcohol, but still we were spent, and a had a long next day ahead planned.

It’s possible I was woo’d by the air conditioning as I’m not much of a museum guy, but the Louvrewas great, definitely our favorite tourist attraction of the trip. We’d bought tickets beforehand and it took about 60 seconds to enter. Almost everyone there was quite pleasant, though the best part was the security guards at the Mona Lisa who were anything but. Groups of us at a time were being yelled at for not moving fast enough – like waiting on line to view the classic piece of art was a local crime and we owed a cowering apology while running and ducking for cover. They could have been instantly beamed to the central bookings jail in downtown Brooklyn and not missed a beat. One of them was the first white guy I’d seen in France with that pathologically rosy facial complexion that screamed alcohol, hypertension and New Jersey; and although it was clearly his job there to be an asshole we believed it to be a case of chicken or the egg.

I’d love to tell you it was beautiful, that Monawas beautiful and a magical experience of tourism, but I don’t think I ever got a good look. It was pure chaos, herded into a swarm of fellow tourists, and one of the only contexts where typical Asian good manners actually fell by the wayside as they refused to be denied the perfect photographs. Spun into confusion and shitted out the other side of the room we much preferred the rest of the less popular parts of the museum.

Before leaving my fiancée insisted on taking pics by the Pyramid outside and I… I just cannot tell you how hot it was. There were other people out suffering as well, but most were huddled in the shade, massaging their skulls with frozen water bottles and drinking from another. We muscled through it, took photos with fake smiles, feigning joy or even comfort so that everyone on social media could see that we had fun at the Louvre. Indoors we did. Outdoors was about survival.

Next door we passed by the other popular museum, D’Orsay (What is this, the museum district?), and fiancée asked if I wanted to go in. As I generally visit one museum per decade at home, my rule overseas is one per trip.

We walked along the Seine River,which was beautiful and I imagined on any day under 109 degrees would have been crowded with other cute couples cut from similar cloths. They’d be eating cheese and baguettes, as everyone had instructed us to do, but ours was a different kind of trip, and I’d surely have jumped into the river before sitting along it with quickly melting brie. There were benches where I could picture us sitting, but even the mental effort of creating said picture was burning calories at an alarming pace. We passed through the Tuileries Garden, got a croque monsieur and more gazpacho.

On the way home I bought a suit for our wedding! It wasn’t the plan, but hey… we’re just some hot shot New Yorkers flying by the seat of our pants in Paris. Beautiful pants as it were, as I never thought I could make such a baller move.

Of course going into the store was wifey’s suggestion, but I went along with it. “Should we go in and see if they have any nice suits?” she asked.

“We should go in and see if they have any nice air conditioning.”

They did.

And before we knew it we were whisked away into the back room as if we had a reservation for two. Everyone there’s faces were beautiful and their outfits even more beautiful. I felt a bit underdressed in my Marcus Camby Knicks’ throwback jersey (while sweating like Patrick Ewing) and my crooked Yankees cap, but before I knew it I was Julia Roberts with Roy Orbison blasting in my head, as one of the most charming men on the planet, Tomas, put together ensemble after ensemble, creating his own Mona Lisa out of me.

Me, the sweaty asshole who just walked in the door in his gym clothes. Instead of angry security guards yelling at us, Tomas took his time with me, like a true gentleman, never allowing me to put any of the jackets on myself. His assistant brought us bottles of water and suddenly I began to suspect I was on a hidden camera show and Richard Gere was going to come out of the back room and ignore my sexual advances.

One fabulous suit I tried on was apparently made of some high-quality but more delicate fabric that Tomas warned me of: “A suit like this – you can only wear this to work maybe two or three times a week… otherwise it will not last.”

Two or three times a week? Who the fuck does this guy think I am? I’m sorry, Tomas, I love you, but in case you haven’t heard it’s only about 1% of the professions in New York these days that even require a suit at work… and those guys can afford enough suits to wear them two or three times a year. I’m not worried about it.

After about an hour of trial and error, mixing and matching and texting photos across the pond to Mom and others for feedback, finally we came to a unanimous decision. Tomas even threw in the pink tie from his own personal stash, and when we said Au revoirI could feel that none of us really wanted to. What we really wanted was to buy four more suits, then two giant homes in New York and Paris respectively where we could all live out the rest of our years together as the most stylish commune of love. Unfortunately that’s not how life works. But I found more than my wedding suit in the Paris SuitSupply. I found one of my favorite people, one of my fondest memories from the trip, and finally, a hell of a deal! Weeks later my (Jewish) fiancée did her research and discovered after the conversion rate I’d gotten a $1000 suit for almost half the cost. Paris: 4. NYC: 0.

When we got outside it was still 109 degrees. We went home and hosed down in preparation for another night on the town…

Bofingerfor dinner: An apparently pork forward venue that seemed to specialize in shellfish and sauerkraut dishes. I’d never had to de-shell my own snails before, and if you would have told me at any point in life I would twice in one day feel like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman I would have at least figured one of the two would involve prostituting myself on Hollywood Blvd. Thankfully, none of the “slippery little suckers” went flying across the room into any waiters’ hands. A now experienced acupuncturist I figured I could successfully navigate this previously foreign task and eventually I was right (although two of them were stuck super deep inside and I resorted to simply brutally cracking them open). Absolutely drowned in the plate’s bath of garlic and oil they were delicious!  

The chilled cream of asparagus soup with mascarpone was the best I’ve ever had in my life. I understand this superlative is beginning to sound like a broken record, but hey, we’re discussing food and wine in Paris. It isn’t like I’m telling you I heard the greatest hip hop song of my life there.

Unfortunately the sauerkraut dish was anti-climactic in taste, overwhelming in size. A beast of a platter, and we figured the reason the runner brought burners to light underneath it must have been because no one could possibly finish this plate in less than three hours. Most of my family has hefty appetites and within my family I am generally the one most derided for overeating; but my fiancée and I couldn’t even make a visible dent in the dish. We left full sausages just hangin’ and neither of us even broached the monstrous pork knuckle that looked like too much to tangle with. What was most fascinating was the gentleman next to us ordered the same dish, had it arrive after ours, and absolutely demolished it before we’d thrown in our towel. “Was he overweight?” you ask.Absolutely not, he was handsome and slim, fit. This is Wonderland.

We had nowhere to take our leftovers, but figured better to gamble on running into a homeless person then just throw it out. We saw some poor man seated on the train station floor on our way to Latin Quarters, and bestowed him with what I assume was the best meal he’d had in years.

We passed by Notre Dame, and I felt kind of like an asshole - like the tourists in NYC taking pictures in front of Ground Zero before the new tower was built: Odd locational tone for a photo opp.

Latin Quarters sucked. Think Bleecker Street meets Time Square, and in case you thought bro-douchery didn’t exist outside of America think again. Lots of pubs and sports bars, novelty shops and loud partyers, and you could skip it. A friend of us warned it would be like this but was worth seeing once. Another friend told us of a cocktail bar there on the Holiday Inn rooftop, from which you could see the whole city. Sounds lovely!We passed by only to be told the roof was closed as a result of the heat. Night Deux was a bit of a letdown.

The next day was a more of the same, only to reinforce a lesson that as New Yorkers we should have already known: Avoid tourist traps. The elevator at the Eiffel Towerwas broken which greatly appeased my fiancee’s terrific fear of heights, however I’m still awaiting my refund for the aloof purchase. Champs Elysseswas… ehhhh… like Fifth Avenue meets Soho, but not even the nooks and cranny side streets of old Soho of the 1990’s – more like vomit-up-your-ass chain retail, Broadway Soho of 2019. My fiancée got to take some nice pics of that other humongous fuckin’ old thing, but besides that the marathon distance walking through the desert level heat was beginning to wear on me… and by this time my neurology had shifted to a degree of alcohol dependency which is not my norm. It was time to call it a day and begin the night.

We closed more similarly to how we opened, in a more cultured reverence for gluttony in a local spot we’d been recommended that happened to be right down the block from our red suede hotel room.

Le Bouillon Chartierdidn’t take reservations and had not one, but two lines wrapped on to the sidewalk of mostly locals waiting to get in. We wondered, with gratitude, why our wait was only about ten minutes, and were inadvertently given our answer once inside. It was packed and fast-paced, pretty noisy, though not much to look at. It had the gritty feel of Katz’s Deli or Barney Greengrass and the waiters were curt and void of pleasantries. Ahhh… we felt right at home.

The most expensive bottle of wine on the menu was 23 euro. And it was great! The prices of everything were dirt cheap – like fast food cheap - which only partially explained the line around the block. The duck confit was excellent, as was the whole sea bass (I felt I needed something just a touch lighter than incessant pork and red meat), and I think the whole meal with the full bottle of wine came out to 58 euro. I think it was during this meal that my fiancée began suggesting another “quick trip back” next month. “We can just come for a few nights and eat in places like this!”

We closed the night as we had every other, with drinks on the sidewalk at Café Le Brebant, which faced out on to the corner of the main strip, Poissonniere Blvd., constantly serving us a nice hybrid of the authentic Paris experience with familiar comfort of New York. Also, constantly serving us lovely wines until the early morning hours, though I always closed with a nice, cold IPA in a chilled glass, as I now suffer from alcoholism. The servers were still mostly God-awful and we always had to walk over to place orders, but they were all pleasant and we rationalized it was worth it to be absolved of gratuity.

The next day we took the train seven hours to Nice. It should have been six but Mercury was retrograde and shit was fucked. Nice was OK. Glad we did it – would never do it again. It’s a beach town, which in spite of its historically fancy reputation means the same thing it does anywhere in the world: More plastic surgery, less culture and nuance. Saw some boobs on the beach, but as is customarily the case, none of the boobs you wish to.

The water was beautiful but the rocks were painful and expensive. We had to buy special mats and shoes in order for the beach experience to be at all relaxing and I highly doubt I’ll ever use either again. From now on I’m sand exclusive.

We saw a great band one night, coincidentally named Bofinger, and had one amazing meal at Terres de Truffes, which translates as Truffle Land where they (predictably) put truffles on everything! White truffles over burrata cheese and sundried tomatoes as a “caprese,” summer truffles on the lamb confit and black truffles littered across the porcini mushroom ravioli! We downed a bottle of our new fave, the Margaux, and finished with the crème brulee with truffle infused caramel drizzle. It was fucked. Up.Suddenly we suspected maybe there was reason to come back to Nice after all. That was until my fiancée searched and found the spot had another location in Paris. So like, why ever go to Miami for a restaurant that exists in NYC?

To exhaust a cliché, we loved Paris. Who wouldn’t? Who doesn’t? I’ve literally never heard a negative report. It’s like New York but with its own twist and flare, and without our recently vampired cultural extraction by transplants only to be replaced with the vapidity of chain stores and pharmacies that once were implicitly prohibited from the once greatest city in the world.

It took me a full week to recover from the neurological storm of jet lag and alcohol withdrawal, though having to spend double the price for half the quality wine eventually ensured my sobriety. Sadly the same can be said for our food quality… even in New York! It’s an awful shame the farming practices our government permits in this country, and in my opinion reason enough to kneel for the Star Spangled Banner should you feel indifferent around the racial issues. Never say never, though I still doubt I could ever make a home across the pond, as I just don’t think anywhere in the world can offer the vibe of New York, nor our diversity. It’s possible that Paris and many other cities may come close in cultural diversity, though never in variety of style, subcultures and psychology. This was my one critique from an admittedly brief first visit – that Paris appears a bit more of a one-trick pony than NYC. In fairness, where doesn’t? They probably do their one trick better than anywhere in the world but it’s just not New York. The weekend after I came home I went out to dinner at Kyklades Greek restaurant in Astoria, then took the train uptown to the EPMD concert in the park in the South Bronx, where my boy, Ed and I were two of seven white people of the 800-1000 there. We watched the legends and devoured some dope, authentic Jamaican food for 8 euro (J/K, it was $10). Afterwards we got drunk at a bar by Yankee Stadium and watched the Yanks beat Boston. The next morning my fiancée and I had the best bagels, lox and cream cheese in town at the Upper West Side institution, Barney Greengrass. Our city is dirtier, as is our food. Our leader is dumber, our drinks are pricier. Still it’s always nice to come home.

[imhereforbvcky]

Pup Cups & Howling Karaoke

Summary: You catch Bucky and his service dog taking the day off and decide to butt in on their day.

Prompt(s):  requested by the lovely @this-kitty-has-claws

1.      “Tell anyone and I’ll murder you and sell your body parts for money.” 3.      “How long have you been standing there?”

Warnings: swearing, that’s all. Just lots of floof

Word Count: 1901

When you heard the team heading off on the latest big operation, you were too exhausted to see them off. There was no way you were dragging your ass out to say hello or goodbye. You’d been out for nearly two months on an undercover op that had ended poorly and the only thing on your mind when you’d slipped home at 1:30 am that same morning had been sleep.

On the flight home you’d forced yourself to stay awake and write up your mission report and check the docket for the upcoming work. You couldn’t be more grateful for the week off, even if you were a little disappointed that the rest of the team was going to be gone for the first three days on assignment. You missed them. Undercover work was lonely work. It left you feeling grimy and worn. You missed Sam’s teasing wit; you missed Steve’s rich laugh, and Clint’s relentless pranks. You missed Tony’s clever jabs and Nat’s knowing smiles.

Most of all you missed Bucky. You missed the comfortable way that silence with him wrapped around you like a heavy comfortable blanket. You missed how he knew what you needed even if you didn’t ask, bringing you shitty cup-o-noodles in your room after a rough mission or a long day. You even missed how he and Sam bickered and taunted each other, Sam usurping the washer in the middle of Bucky’s laundry day, or Bucky dropping loads of Lua’s fur into the dryer after brushing her in retaliation.

Lua was Bucky’s service dog. She was an enormous husky shepherd mix with thick brown and black fur that Bucky regularly had to brush out in heaps. You’d seen her wake him from a relentless night terror, curled around his shoulder, her enormous fluffy head resting on his chest, just below his neck. She seemed able to sense when he became tense and would rest her head on his knee or haul herself into his lap. The pressure and the soft warmth always seemed to help ground him, pull him out of his head. He could focus on the feel of every little fiber of her fur or the steady rise and fall of her breathing. She would be a physical barrier against any unexpected touch from strangers, and he could re-center.

They worked well together. Bucky had made massive strides since getting her. Her presence allowed him the comfort and confidence to engage with the others more and a reason to force himself out into the world. But you could tell he was still tense at the compound. She was always working here unless he took her out to certain spaces or you’d hear her romping in his apartment area sometimes. He was still incredibly private about his time spent unguarded. Trust came slowly.

When you finally slipped out into the kitchen at midday, it was quite clear that Bucky had no idea you were back. Or that anyone was in the compound, for that matter. He lay on the floor of the living room, a half empty pizza box open on the coffee table, and Lua rolling around at his side chomping on a bright rubber chew toy whose squeaking masked your entrance into the room.

“Lulu, what should we watch, huh?” Bucky asked, one arm pinned under his dog, the other on the remote, paging through the channel guide. “What the hell is My Strange Addiction? Addicted to… eating bricks? What the fuck? How…” He shook his head and moved on. “What the hell has happened to TV since I’ve been gone, huh?”

You leaned on the wall that opened into the room, your teeth digging into your lip to bite back your giggle. Amusing as it was, you truly didn’t want to interrupt, and he seemed so relaxed.

“Alright. All 500 channels are shit, pal,” he sighed, scratching Lua’s ear. “Guess I’ll have to settle for your favorite.”

He flipped to one of the radio channels that nobody ever listens to and Lua immediately jumped up, howling in response to the high, pitchy voice of whatever pop singer of the day pierced through the speakers. Bucky reached blindly for a slice of pizza and took a huge bite.

“Tell me all about it, Lulu.” He had adopted a full blown baby talk voice, half laughing encouraging her howling along with the music. This time you couldn’t help laughing, it was all just too absurd, too unexpected. The Winter Soldier babbling in a high mewl to his service dog, Lua howling away maybe liking or maybe hating the music.

Bucky shot up, twisting to see you in the entryway as you nearly cried from laughter.

“How long have you been standing there?” he snapped, gulping down his mouthful of pizza.

“Long enough to know you like to karaoke with your dog,” you sputtered through your giggles. “This…” you could barely get the words out around your laughter, “Sam will love this.”

“You better not! Tell anyone and I’ll murder you and sell your body parts for money,” he growled, but the slight curve of his lips, the tiniest wrinkle at the corners of his eyes gave him away.

You only laughed, flopping over the back of the couch. “I thought you didn’t do that anymore.”

“I’ll make an exception.”

You jabbed his shoulder with your foot, giggling at his mock aggression. “That’s fine; I don’t have to tell him anything…”

Bucky glared at you suspiciously as your grin grew more and more nefarious until he heard his own voice playing back through your phone. The video you’d recorded replaying as Bucky cooed at his beloved service dog.

“Give me that!” He was on you in a second, launching from the floor over you on the couch and reaching for your phone.

You laughed, stretching your arm over your head, holding it out of his reach. He quickly grabbed behind your thigh, squeezing relentlessly until you squirmed, laughing beneath him. Your outstretched arm snapped to your chest, clutching the phone while trying to protect yourself from his tickling.

“Give me the phone,” he repeated, low and quiet, trying for intimidating, but failing miserably as the laughter found its way into his voice in the end, a breathy chuckle punctuating his plea. He burrowed his face against your shoulder and neck. “Please.”

“Fine, I’ll delete it if you take Lulu and me for ice cream,” you suggested, teasing for his little nickname. He pinched your ribs this time and you tried again to squirm away from him, but he was too damn heavy and too damn big. You were utterly pinned beneath his weight.

Eventually he groaned and rolled off of you, reaching for his wallet. “Lulu wants to stay here and play.” He tossed the chew toy across the room and Lua dashed after it. He smiled at the soft scattering of her claws on the polished cement floor as she skidded to a stop before scurrying back to him, tail high and happy.

“I think Lua will be more than happy when she gets there,” you grinned, swinging your keys around your finger.

As you pulled up to the familiar red roofed building Bucky scowled at you, confusion etched into every wrinkle.

“Dairy Queen?” he questioned, “I took you for a fancy gelato girl.”

You shook your head, a smug grin, lighting your eyes. “No way. This is a classic. Plus it’s Lua’s day off, I can hardly drag you two into a nice place if it means she’ll have to be working.”

You didn’t make them go inside at all, instead rolling up to the drive through. After ordering your usual and a boring old sundae for Bucky, you grinned at him and asked kindly for a pup cup.

“What the hell is a pup cup?” Bucky asked, half laughter, half worry.

“Would you relax? I said you were taking me AND Lua out for ice cream!” you argued, “Can’t leave your favorite girl hanging.”

After receiving your frozen treats and pulling into a parking space you spun around in your seat, and reached back with the little cup of vanilla ice cream for Lua.

“Pup cup,” you chimed, like it should’ve been obvious. She lapped it up greedily as Bucky shook his head, and chuckled, taking a bite of his sundae.

“You’d spoil her if I let you,” he observed as you held the cup and pet Lua’s soft fur.

“She deserves it,” you mused, falling back to your seat, and taking a bite of your own ice cream. “She has to deal with your grouchy face all day.”

“I’m not grouchy,” he mumbled around a mouthful of ice cream and chocolate sauce.

“Yeah you are,” you laughed, wiping a dribble of chocolate from his chin. “But it’s alright; it’s a pretty good looking face.”

“You think so, huh?” he asked, leaning into your touch. You’d let your hand linger just long enough to draw out the moment, and now there was a definitive tension that had knots forming in your stomach. With no idea what to say or what to do, you froze completely, just staring into those damn blue grey eyes like you’d find the answer in their stormy color.

He never dropped your gaze but took another bite of his sundae. You mimicked his action, taking a bite of your own for no reason other than a lack of any other thought.

“Can I taste yours?” he asked, glancing down at your ice cream.

“Hmm? Mmhmm,” you mumbled, before swallowing your spoonful.

You held your ice cream forward a little for him to scoop some out but instead his hand gripped the back of your neck, pulling you closer until his lips were on yours. He was completely in control, his cold, soft lips gliding over yours, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth, his tongue rolling over your lip before he pulled away. Your eyes were still closed and you were a little breathless with shock.

“That was… um…” you couldn’t find a cohesive thought, much less a word.

“Mmm, nope,” he interrupted, “Classic sundae’s definitely the way to go.”

“I… what?” you laughed. “You’re biased by nostalgia. I think I should be the judge of that.” Before you could lose your nerve you leaned forward and matched his kiss with one of your own.

“Mmm... you might be right,” you conceded with a smile as you leaned away just slightly. “Can’t go wrong with an oldie.” With a broad smile you dipped your spoon into his sundae and stole a bite.

“Oldie, huh?” he smiled, shaking his head slightly. “I was going to suggest we go watch a movie but if you’re going to be rude...”

“Ooo! Do you have your ID?” you asked, full of animation as you started the car, “You could probably get a senior discount.

“Oh I don’t know, did you get permission to stay out past curfew?” he teased, tired of being taunted for his age and exaggerating at yours.

“Oh, Bucky,” you turned to him, with a mischievous smile, “If you think I’m the kind of girl who follows the rules, you’ve got a lot to learn.”

He grinned and raised an eyebrow. You smiled and winked at him as you pulled out, back toward the compound.

He reached back and scratched Lua behind her ear. “This girl’s trouble Lulu.”

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[kpurereactions]

Jeon Jungkook + Kim Yugyeom

**REQUEST: heyyy i was wondering if you could do a smutty smut with yugyeom and jungkook where they both like you and they ask you to choose one of them but you can’t and so they both fuck you??? it’s ok if not, i know it’s weird but idk i just have a thing for maknaes 😏

Type: SMUT

Word Count: 3378

It was Namjoon who introduced you to Jungkook, and Namjoon who introduced you to Jackson who introduced you to Yugyeom. Your friendship with each of them was different, but equally as important to you.

Jungkook loved to make you laugh. He was always right by your side whispering silly things in your ear, laughing as your cheeks turned red from his words. You found yourself with him a lot, always watching movies and sneaking around with black baseball hats and masks just to see how long the two of you could goof off before someone recognized him. You spent your Sundays  in the dorm with him, legs draped over his lap watching what ever movie he chose- he always chose the movie. He had cried to you a few times, you were a sense of comfort for him and he wasn’t scared to tell you how much you meant to him.

Your friendship with Yugyeom was similar, but different in so many ways. You made him nervous despite how close the two of you had become. He’d listen to your problems and tell you all of his own. It was always late nights with him, sitting around a wooden table with your hands being warmed by the coffee he would place in front of you. It wasn’t all serious though. You found yourself at his practice a lot, you didnt care if he knew how much you loved to watch him dance. You would be the one to make Yugyeom blush by telling him how great he was all the time which was usually followed by you telling him how cute he was with the way he would smile with rosy cheeks.

You were sat there in your favorite cafe reading the latest book for a class you were taking, completely oblivious to the world around you. The only thing that was able to pull your attention from your book was a coffee cup that was being placed down on the table. You looked up and smiled, Yugyeom standing over you looking nervous.

“Hi love! What are you doing here?” You said checking your phone. He should have been at practice.

“I uh,” He sat down, his long legs caused his knees to touch yours. “I wanted to ask you something.” He said sliding the cup over to you.

“Shoot.”

“So you know how I asked you to the award show the other day?” he said nervously kneading his hands.

“The award show that I said I would go to you with? You’re not dumping me are you?” You joked making him blush.

“Oh, no never Im really excited.” He started with a smile. “Its just… I wanted to know if maybe you would want to get dinner with me another time… You know.” He said avoiding your eye contact. You smiled and bit your lip.

“Are you asking me on a date?” You said, smiling at him with excited eyes.

“I guess I am.” He said. Before you could answer your phone began to ring, Jungkooks name flashing on the screen. You smiled reassuringly to Yugyeom as you answered the phone.

“Hey, y/n I need to talk to you.” He said in kind a panicked tone.

“Whoa, hey are you okay?” You asked, your eyebrows pushing together.

“Is Yugyeom there?” He said. You looked up to Yugyeom who looked like he was going to be sick with nerves.

“Um, yeah he just sat down why?”

“I wanted to take you out. Like on a real date. I want to be with you, y/n” He said. You squeezed the bridge of your nose and ran your hand through your hair.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” You said looking to Yugyeom who looked at you with concerned eyes.

“Its Jungkook. Asking me out.” You said.

“Where are you?” You said into the phone sternly, trying to keep your cool as best you could as a thousand things started to run through your mind.

“The dorms.”

“Up. Now.” You said to Yugyeom, before hanging up on Jungkook.

You loved the boys and you would be lying to yourself if you say you hadn’t started to grow feelings for them. As you walked quickly with Yugyeom you tried to push your thoughts out of your head but you couldn’t.

You loved the way Jungkook made you smile. How even when you were crying hysterically he was still able to make you laugh. But when you were with Yugyeom in that state the way he’d hold you close to his chest made you feel like you were the most important person in the world. You loved the way Jungkook would tease you, chasing you through out the dorm to get something you had taken, and the way he would wrap his arms around your waist and spin you around playfully. But you also loved the way Yugyeom would wipe the frosting of your favorite cupcake on your nose, something he always had plenty of just for you. You loved the way Jungkook held you when he said goodbye, but you loved the way Yugyeom held you when he said hello.

You were so caught up in trying to figure out what you were going to do you didnt even realize you had made it to Jungkooks dorm.

“Why did you bring me here.” Yugyeom said, looking torn.

“I… We will talk about it upstairs.” You said punching in the code and pushing the door open.

It felt like the most awkward intervention ever. The two boys sat on the couch, awkward and hands folded in their laps as you sat across from them on the coffee table. You sighed a few times thinking you were ready to start talking but nothing came out. Finally, you spoke.

“I love both of you.” You said, watching as both of their breathing increased.

“I love both of you so much.” You laughed to yourself while shaking your head. You rubbed your face once before looking back to them.

“Why would you do this to me?” You said wrapping your arms around your self.

“Im crazy about you, y/n. I have been for the longest time.” Jungkook whispered, scared he might say the wrong thing.

“You know how I feel about you.” Yugyeom said even softer.

“I literally can’t think of one thing that makes one of you better than the other.” You said looking up, you knew at the end of this you were going to lose one of your closest friends and that broke you heart.

“You both are such assholes.” You said sternly looking back to them. “What gives you the right to ruin the relationship I have with my two favorite people.” You said getting loud.

“So you don’t want to be with me?” Yugyeom said looking at you with sad eyes.

“Are you stupid? I want to be with you so bad. Both of you. I just.. I can’t choose.” You said shrugging.

“Y/n, please.” Jungkook said reaching forward to put his hand on your knee. You looked over to Yugyeom and your heart broke. He looked like he was going to be sick.

You stood up and with arms still crossed left the room. Out of habit you started to brew yourself coffee, you needed something to help you think, coffee was good at that. Your fingers drummed on the counter as you started to weigh your options again. But once again for every good thing about Jungkook there was something that met it for Yugyeom.

“Y/n, Im sorry about all of this… I didnt think it was going to be this hard.” Yugyeom said walking into the kitchen, his hand rubbing nervously at the back of his neck. You looked at him and your heart melted. He was so sweet for wanting to care for you. You wanted that in your life. But Jungkook would take just as good care of you.

You were striding across the kitchen before you could even realize what you were doing. Your hands rose to take his cheeks and you didnt hesitate to bring his face to yours. Kissing him felt like everything and nothing at the same time. Your heart raced and the tips of your body tingled, but you couldn’t hear any thing. His lips fit yours perfectly and he didnt hesitate to wrap his arms around you. Being this close to him made it hard for you to step away, the want to deepen the kiss strong, but once you did all you could think about Jungkook. Maybe he was the one.

The coffee forgotten you walked away from the stunned Yugyeom and into the living room. Jungkook stood quickly, but before he could say anything you were kissing him. The actual feeling of kissing Jungkook was so different than Yugyeom, but the feeling it gave you was so similar.

You pulled out of the kiss and groaned, stomping your foot and crossing your arms. The two boys looked at you both confused and worried.

“I thought that would clear things up for me.” You said looking at both of them.

“Thought?” Jungkook said.

“It was the same…” You said before making a ‘poof’ noise along with a hand motion to indicate they had both blown your mind.

What happened next caught you off guard. Yugyeom had looked over to Jungkook before stepping forward and kissing you again. You were taken aback by his forwardness, it was a side of him you didnt see very often, but loved when it came out. You would have been mortified to be kissing Yugyeom the way you were in front of Jungkook, but the feeling of strong fingers on your waist and another set of lips on your neck made you shiver.

“Let us prove to you how much we want you.” Jung kook whispered against your neck as Yugyeom nodded, his lips brushing yours.

You shocked yourself when you nodded. Having the two boys you loved the most at the same time scared you and was something you’d never think you’d be doing, but to justified this you just told yourself it would be the best way to choose.

They led you to the bedroom not talking, your nerves exploading, both in the scared sense and the heat that started to pool between your legs. One in the room and sitting on the bed, Jungkook was the first to kiss you, his hand reaching up to meet your cheek as he sat next to you to deepened the kiss. It surprised you when his tongue touched yours, but it was something that was alot easier for you to melt into than you realized. You gasped into his kiss when the feeling of a hand running up your thigh made you jump. Thinking it was Jungkook you pulled away, only to be surprised to see the hand belonging to Yugyeom.

You lent towards him, kissing him again and loving the way he tasted as Jungkook took ahold of your other leg. Out of instinct you let your knees part, and soon Jungkook’s hand went from just stroking the length of your thigh to adding in a little teasing to your clothed core. The moment the teasing earned a breathy moan from you Yugyeom started to undress your top half, only stoping his kiss when he pulled back to make sure this was okay. You bit your lip and slightly nodded letting him slip the shirt over your head. The two took a second to take in your body before Jungkook was guiding your chin back towards him.

He laid you down and intertwined his fingers with your hair as he deepened the kiss. The feeling of another set of lips meeting the skin of your stomach made you moan again, a tingling feeling erupting through out your stomach. You hooked one arm around Jungkooks neck while your other hand placed softly to Yugyeoms neck, his own hands making quick work of unbuttoning your jeans. You bent your knees and rose your body so Yugyeom could pull the pants from your hips and chuckled accidentally at his eagerness to get them off of your body. Your chuckle was immediately silenced by the placement of Jungkooks tongue. Now there were three hands on you. Both of Yugyeom’s were slowly running up your now bare legs as his mouth kissed along the hem of your underwear, as Jungkooks free hand traced along the top of your breasts.

You wanted to moan a name as their fingers set your nerves on fire but you weren’t sure who’s to say. In stead you just gasped, your body sitting up slightly as Yugyeom placed a kiss right over your center. Though jealous Yugyeom got that reaction out of you, Jungkook took this opportunity to unclasp your bra and lay you back down so he could take it off. His lips started to kiss your skin, gently at first but then with such passion and sucking that you knew there were going to be marks later. Your hand took ahold of his hair as a silent plead for him to let up but it only make him kiss and nip harder.

You gasped again when Yugyeom pushed aside your underwear and slipped two fingers along your entrance. You didn’t even realize how wet you had become until then and the feelings of his fingers slipping easily up and down you made you even wetter. You felt his lips on your hip as Jungkooks left your skin. Your eyes opened slightly to see him stripping of his shirt and you smiled. You always loved seeing him shirtless, he was just so beautiful. His lips returned to yours and held yours for a while before a new feeling was erupting through your body. Some how Yugyeom had pulled your underwear off and now had his hot tongue pressed to your core, trailing it upward at an agonizingly slow rate. You sat up again slightly with another gasp as he did so and tilted your head back, just the sound of your wet against his tongue made you squirm. Jungkook took this opportunity to undress himself.  If Yugyeom got to do this first than why shouldn’t he get to enter you first?

What he didn’t expect was at the sight of his naked erection your hand would find his member and start to pump. His breath would hitch and he’d chuckle lightly, not expecting you to be that forward, but as Yugyeom intensified his licking and sucking your pumps where becoming nothing more than a tightening grip around him.

You couldn’t catch your breath. The way Yugyeom’s tongue flicked and rolled against your core seemed to hit  sensitive nerves every time. You couldn’t fight the natural way your body arched and your eyes closed as his arms wrapped around your legs so you couldn’t get away. From their position one of his long fingers found its way to your sopping clit and started to work it. Your body arched again, the familiar tightening feeling you only ever got by yourself threatening in the pit of you. You breathed hard once, trying hard to get air flow back into your body as you gripped his hair with one hand and Jungkooks arm with the other. Jungkook brought his lips down to your neck again and traced his hand up your side till his fingers were brushing along your erect nipple. You moaned at that making him smile and in a swift movement he gave it one hard pinch, and you came undone. You pushed your hips up as your thighs shook slightly, by far one of the hardest orgasms you’ve ever had. You held on tighter to Jungkook as Yugyeom swallowed every last bit of your juices, so proud that he had made you feel so good.

Your hands immediately covered your face as you realized what had just happened. You were ready to give yourself to Yugyeom completely, just tell him he had you and all of you, but soon Jungkook’s lips pressed to your neck again and with a hot breath he whispered. 'My turn, baby.’

Yugyeom stood and stripped his shirt and began to undo his pants when he noticed you looking at him, your head rolled to the side as Jungkook pushed your knees in a way that he could better line up with you. He crawled onto the bed and placed a kiss on you, your taste heavy on his lips. He pulled away too soon for your liking but your attention was brought back to Jungkook who had just started to tease your core with his member, your breath hitching as you were still over sensitive from Yugyeom. You couldn’t look away from Jungkook. His eyes had darkened and his bottom lip was taken between his teeth as he watched intently to his member sliding into you. You moaned once as you gripped to the sheets on either side of you. Everything around you disappeared as your eyes closed and the only thing you could think about was the feeling of him inside of you, slowly pumping as you adjusted to his length and width.

It wasn’t until he thrusted once hard into you did your eyes open back up. His hands on either side of your waist you pumped into you harder and harder each time until the feeling of Yugyeom getting on the bed next to you made him slow down. You looked up to Yugyeom and bit your lip, his member standing proud and soon you were pulling Jungkook out of you and flipping around to face Yugyeom. You took his member in your hand before wiggling your behind at Jungkook to resume, which he did immediately, the thought of you choosing Yugyeom right then wiping out of his mind as he committed to taking his claim on you.

You smiled at your shy Gyeom before taking his whole in your mouth, allowing the heavy pounding of Jungkook behind you create a forward and backward motion. You groaned around Yugyeom making him moan at the vibrations. His hands now finding their way into your hair to hold you as close around him as he could get. You tried to focus on pleasing him, but soon the feeling of your g-spot being hit as Jungkook figured you out made you suck in a deep breath of as and pull yourself away from Yugyeom. You turned slightly to look back at him, his eyes set on him entering you while his fingers dug into your butt. You hid your face in your shoulder, biting slightly as he hit the same spot over and over again. Your hands gripped onto Yugyeoms thighs as you tried to brace yourself for what you knew was coming. Your knees started to slide together as you felt yourself tightening around him. He lent forward, his chest now pressed to your back as his hand found your clit, just to help.

'Cum for me baby girl.’ Jungkook said into your ear as he let out four last hard pumps.

You tried to hold on but the constant nagging of his finger and the pounding that hit you just well enough to make you squirm made the coil tighten quicker this time. You gripped tighter to Yugyeom and let out a shaky 'ahh’ as you came undone around him. His arms supported your body as your arms began to shake, your second orgasm just as intense as the first. Your head fell forward into Yugyeoms chest as Jungkook softly pulled himself out of you. Your eyes were watery and your mouth was dry. Jungkook chuckled lightly as he flopped down next to the two of you. You rolled off of Yugyeoms chest to sandwich your naked body between the two boys. You could hardly keep your eyes open as you fought for some thing to say.

“So, Y/n… Who do you chose?’ Jungkook said.

'Kook, not now.’

'I choose…’

[queen18xo]

My first Starker fic! Link to Ao3 above or can be read below.

" I told you to stay the fuck out of the way, kid." Recently Tony had been trying hard to control his temper. He knew that Peter hated it when Tony would yell at him, especially now after the incident where he took the kid's suit. Tony hates seeing the hurt flash in Peter's baby blues when his temper gets the best of him. Its been difficult for Tony, controlling his temper feeling like a complete character change for the billionaire. He had become accustomed to being rude and ill-tempered. He never cared enough about others to control the way he communicated with them.

However, there are always moments like this one where yelling at the boy is his only option. Parker, the reckless kid Tony had fallen in love with as always jumping headfirst into danger without a care in the world.

Peter had lept into the fight; during the latest Avengers battle, Tony had been cornered. There had been only ten assailants, and although he was cornered, Tony knew he would be capable of handling them. Tony's stomach turned to lead as Parker swung into the fight. The boy may have superpowers, but he had no combat training.

Tony fired his gauntlet at one of the assailants just as Peter swung towards the man in a misguided attempt at helping. He saw the flash of red at the last moment; Tony made quick work of changing the trajectory of his shot, narrowly avoiding taking Peter out alongside the bad guy.

This is why he is currently yelling at the young man. Stark would instead take his chances being overrun by enemies than the possibility that he may be the one to hurt the boy. The boy was in desperate need of some discipline. Tony knew they might not be so lucky the next time Peter pulled a stunt like this.

Peter must've of realised how close he was to being hit by Tony's blasters as the boy yelped darting away. Tony spares the younger man a glance to ensure he is a safe distance from the battle before he allows his focus to dart back to the fight. It's mere moments later when Stark emerges from the ring of assailants all restrained with various degrees of damage. He stalks his way over to where Peter is crouching at the outskirts of the battle scene, a deadly glower marring his features.

Tony tries very hard to regain his composure before he unleashes his fury on the younger man. Unfortunately, he fails. " What the hell were you thinking, huh?" Tony growls out angrily.

Peter looks up at Tony sheepishly his stunning eyes blinking up at the older man apologetically. " I was helping" he answers weakly. "They were only human I figured I could help." Peter ducks his head, cheeks tinged a beautiful pink shade in embarrassment.

"Ten humans Peter, ten highly trained humans with weapons!" The man exclaimed huffing angrily. "Humans are just as dangerous as an alien kid, and that's without the fact that I nearly blasted you to pieces." Tony pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. This boy was going to be the death of him.

"But you didn't!" Peter exclaimed childishly. " You would never hurt me, Mr Stark. I trust you." The boy whispers gently looking up at Tony through his dark lashes. The blush staining his cheeks paired with the boys sparkling doe eyes staring up at him, painting a sinful picture before Tony.

Tony finds himself tempted to allow the warmth those words ignite in him to distract him. Tony takes a couple of menacing steps forward, backing Peter up against the cold metal of a shipping container. "Even I can make a mistake, Parker."

Peter shakes his head, incredulously. "You're a bit um.. dramatic Mr Stark." Peter stutters out nervously. He's never been good at confronting his mentor.

Tony retracts his suit with a gentle tap to his chest plate. "Am I?" he asks, pulling a blade from its sheath, where it's tucked unsuspiciously along the inside seam of his suit jacket. He holds it out the length of the small blade the only thing separating their chests. Peter watches entranced as the blade's edge glints dangerously in the sunlight. " See Spider boy, even with all your powers I have you cornered, and a dagger pressed to your chest. I'm human, and yet now I am a threat to you." His words come out violently, the man practically spitting them out at the boy. Tony watches as Peter's eyes go wide, he worries he may have genuinely frightened the boy.

He opens his mouth an apology dancing on his tongue. He never wanted the young man to fear him. Tony finds himself instantly wishing he could tell the boy to forget what happened. Tony would never forgive himself if he made this gorgeous boy with whom he is wholly enraptured fear him.

Before an apology can make itself known, Tony notices the way Peter's baby blue iris' are trapped within the darkness of his pupils. His cheeks are flushing a delicious shade as the pink of his tongue darts out, wetting his lips. Tony has seen this look before many times but never on the face of this precious boy. Tony can practically smell the lust emanating from Peter.

"Peter" Tony gasps the dagger hanging limply at his side as he stares in shock, backing away from the younger man quickly. Tony feels his breath catch in his throat. The thought of Peter wanting him almost too much for the older man to bare.

Peter ducks his head desperately, avoiding eye contact with the older man. "I'm sorry, Mr Stark. I am so sorry. You just looked so good holding the dagger. I mean you look good all the time Sir but just then oh god shutting up now." The boy stumbles over his words in his haste to appease the older man, shame curling in his gut.

"I was holding a weapon, Peter! A dangerous weapon." Tony exclaims desperately to rid that lustful look from the boys face. He needed peter to take this seriously. His heart not equipped to handle a beautiful, innocent soul like Peter wanting a disgusting older man like himself.

Tony closes the distance between them carefully bringing the dagger up to rest against the vulnerable skin of Peter's throat; the boy tilts his head back slightly, allowing Tony to see the full expanse of pale skin. Tony watches his Addams apple bobbing as he swallows harshly. The blade is barely touching the skin of his throat gently marring the skin of the younger man's throat a thin line of blood appearing where the sharp edge of the dagger kisses the sensitive skin of the boy's throat. It takes all of Tony's will power to stop his hand from shaking nervously.

Peter looks up at the older man as if he is starving. His eyes were flickering down to where one of Tony's strong, calloused hands is wrapped tightly around the hilt of the dagger. The flush adorning his delicate pale cheeks becoming more prominent.  " I trust you, Mr Stark." The boy states the movement of his throat as he talks, pushing the blade to bite deeper into the soft flesh of his neck, a single drop of blood welling up at the surface.

Tony meets Peter's lust blown eyes " this isn't a joke kid" he snaps frustration getting the better of him. His mind warring with itself over what to do with the younger man.  

Peter's eyes flutter closed before he speaks again his head tilting further back until it's pressed firmly against the rough metal of the container behind him. " I'm not laughing sir" he whispers breathily.

Tonys cock twitches in his pants, the way the boy sounds eliciting a strong reaction from the older man's body. Peter stands stock still underneath tony the only movement being the harsh rise and fall of his chest as he breathes Tony's blade easily holding the boy in place.

Tony takes a step back, never realising the gentle pressure of the blade against peters skin. His eyes roam over the boy taking in every detail. The way his shaking hands are clenched into fists as he fights the urge to palm at the bulge tenting the skin-tight material of his suit. Tony breaths out heavily as he does a quick check to ensure none of the avengers are still lingering.

"Well this is new for me" Tony states tilting his head in confusion, he struggles to figure out whether Peter is attracted to danger or if its Tony himself that the boy is attracted to.

"First time for everything, Sir." The boy quips back his voice low and gravelly with lust.

"Fuck" Tony gasps in desperate need of getting his hands on the soft skin of the younger man below him. "Fuck Pete" he states removing the blade from the boy's throat as he leans forward to connect their foreheads. The blade slowly drags down the expanse of Peter's toned chest. The blades tip was kissing its way down the boy's body. Tonys movements cease as the tip of the blade reaches the prominent bulge sitting proudly beneath the straining red material.

"You look sinful, baby" Tony whispers making eye contact with the boy beneath him. Tony twirls the blade in his palm expertly; he feels Peter shiver with pleasure beneath him at the display. Peter swallows harshly as he watches Tony's expert fingers handle the blade.

"Mr Stark " the boy whimpers pulling his plump bottom lip between his teeth, Tony watches as the skin turns from an innocent shade of pink to an obscene shade of red.

"Fuck.. You look so pretty like this baby" Tony whispers their breaths mingling in the air between them. Peter's needy whines like music to his ears. Tony raises a single eyebrow, silently asking permission to continue. The boy hastily nods his consent. Tony slides the blade gently up between the boy's legs, grazing his delicate thighs. Smirking devilishly down at the younger man as he watches the boys exhales become shaky. He stops just short of his knee tony taps gently with the blunt edge of the blade in a request for the boy to spread his legs.

Peter gasps and writhes beneath the older man's ministrations as he presses the flat surface of the blade against his most vulnerable places, the sensitivity of his body increasing with every delicate press of the blade to his body. Tony brings the blade up pressing the blunt edge firmly against the boy's tight balls watching as he helplessly grinds against the small surface provided to desperately relieve the pressure in his aching balls. Peter appears barely aware of what he is doing.

"Fuck" Tony groans his cock fully hard and straining against the material of his slacks. He drops the blade to the ground, not caring where it lands.

Their lips finally meet in a biting and desperate kiss; he grabs the younger man's feminine hips grinding their cocks together. "Fuck baby, are you sure you want this?" Tony asks breathlessly as he continues to roll their hips together. Peter nods quickly feeling Tony's hardness pressed to his he bucks up desperately whining as he searches for more friction. "Baby, I need you to say it," Tony demands his voice rough as pleasure courses red hot through his veins. Peter unleashes a feral need within the older man his supple, intoxicating body like a drug to the man.

"Please, Tony, I want you." Peter gasps out between breaths a shiver rushes through Tony, the way his name rolls of the boys sinful tongue enticing to the older man. Tony drops to his knees, mouthing at the boys hard cock through his suit. Desperate to taste the boy on his tongue. He can feel the warmth of the precome through the material, Peter's head thuds against the container " Oh god Mr Stark." The boy whimpers.

Tony feels around for his dagger before carefully bringing it up into the small amount of space between them. He punctures the material of the Spider-man suit just above the knee sensually dragging the tip higher slicing through the red fabric. Peter whimpers as the blade inches closer to his straining cock, his lust blown glazed over eyes watching the sight below him in awe. Tony finishes cutting open the crotch of peters suit the boy above him whimpering needily. Tony leans in his tongue running along the newly exposed milky skin of Peter's thigh, not a scratch marring the skin thanks to Tony's practised hand.

Peters cock bobs in front of him the tip flushed an angry red Tony lays the cold flat edge of the dagger against the leaking slit drawing another needy whimper from the boy above him. "Don't move baby" Tony commands holding the sharpened edge of his blade above the pulsing artery running through Peter'S cock, he traces the blade gently along the artery with steady well-practised hands.

Tony engulfs the boys cock moaning around the mouthful. Loving the heavy weight of the boys leaking cock against his tongue. He sucks on the boys cock enthusiastically putting years of practice to good use. above the older man, Peter writhes in pleasure, breathy moans and Tony's name spilling from his supple lips.  "Can I touch you?" Peter whispers nervously from above Tony, their eyes meeting as Tony hums his consent around Peter's cock.

The boy's legs tremble beside Tony's head as one of Peter's dainty hands buries itself in Tony's messy brown locks his other hand snaking down lovingly cupping the older man's cheek. Peter's cock jerks in his mouth as his orgasm approaches pre-come painting the back of Tony's throat as he increases his efforts. Years of practice stripping him of his gag reflex ready to be used to his advantage now as he sucks the boys cock into his mouth until the tip of his cock is fucking into the warm folds of Tony's throat. Above him Peter clenches his eyes shut as he pleads and begs, his hands fisting tight handfuls of Tony's hair, his mouth slack with pleasure.

Tony allows Peter to fuck into his mouth with the final few thrusts it takes for the boy to come undone, spilling his load down Tonys waiting throat. The taste of peter coating his tongue, pushing his neglected cock over the edge untouched.

Tony stands on shaky legs looking down at the dishevelled boy in front of him. Peter watches closely as Tony licks a bit of his come from where it spilt onto his bottom lip. "I'm sorry Mr Stark I should have pulled away" Peter apologies nervously moving to try and cover himself in embarrassment.

Tony steps in closer to the boy cupping his flushed cheek gently in one of his large hands. " You have nothing to be sorry for baby" Tony mutters as he runs his thumb along the boy's cheekbone lovingly. Tony watches as the young man's eyes pool with tears. "Petey, hey shh what's wrong babe?" he asks worried he may have hurt the boy in some way.

Peter whimpers, pushing his cheek further into the older man's palm. " Are you going to leave me now, Mr Stark?" Peter asks his sad tear-filled eyes meeting Starks confused, and concern filled gaze.

"Why would you think I'm going to leave you, baby?" Tony questions gently, not wanting to upset the fragile man any further.

Peter looks down at the floor his cheeks burning in embarrassment as tears roll down his cheeks. " You leave everyone else, Sir." The boy states trying to force his voice not to break as he speaks.

" Oh, sweetheart" Tony mutters as he pulls the younger man into his arms holding him as he whispers soothing words against his soft brown curls. Once the boy's tears have stopped, Tony pulls Peter away from him, his hands resting on either side of the boys face. " I love you, baby boy, I have loved you for longer than I probably should have. I'm not a good man, you know that, but as long as you want me I will be here beautiful." Tony tells him as he wipes the tears from his face.

"I love you, Mr Stark" the boy whispers back a smile splitting his face. Tony chuckles as the boy continues to call him Mr Stark even after what they just shared.

Tony's lips brush Peter's gently "I think you can call me Tony now, sweetheart." he states as he pulls the boy in for a deep, passionate kiss. The kiss is slow as tony shows the boy just how enamoured he is with him. " Let's get you home kid" the older man whispers against his lips as he re-engages his suit, picking Peter up bridal style as he launches smoothly into the air.