#what is he playing at like what is the vision here why put daniel in a vcarb then

[secretdonderwolk]

daniel try not to mention max challenge he fails immediately ❤️

[sbdskate]

Laws Of Attraction (Part 10) - DR x lawyer!fem!reader

Summary: McLaren is in breach of contract, dr3 hires a lawyer to deal with the aftermath. Tropes ensue. Slow burn. Enemies(kind of) -> Friends/colleagues -> Lovers

Pairing: lawyer!fem!reader x Daniel Ricciardo

Warnings (18+): sickening amount of fluff, language, angst, *SMUT*: oral (m + f receiving), fingering, hand job, p in v, overstimulation if you blink

Word Count: 6,892

A/N: If you’re here, congratulations! You made it to the end. A big thank you to everyone that has commented, shared, liked, etc. I can’t believe it’s been over a year since my first post. I had a vision when I started writing this in the middle of the 2022 season, not quite sure where it would lead, but I’m happy with where it landed and I hope you are too. I hope you like wine with your cheese, because this is ~cheesy~. Also, this is my first time writing smut so (1) if you are a minor please do not proceed; (2) if you do like/read smut, I would appreciate any kind of feedback. A big thank you to @cutelittlefakejourneys and @burningcupcakefire for beta-ing. Thank you @paddockbunny, @monzabee, and @silverstonesainz for the insights and words of encouragement. As always, thank you for reading.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Epilogue 1

Daniel paced the hallway. He wasn’t accustomed to not getting what he wanted. Sure, in the last few months he had had his fair share of disappointments, but this was different. He was tempted to knock on your door until you answered, but thought the better of it.

He played through the moment in his head again, no different than analyzing a post-race debrief. What went wrong and how could he improve? He was professional during the signing. He knew you loved Geri, you only casually brought up Ginger Spice in conversation no less than a dozen times over the last few months. He knew you’d love to actually meet her – who knows, if everything went well it certainly wouldn’t be the last time for you. He didn’t force himself on you – at this point he knew you were like a cat and he needed to wait for you to come to him or else he’d scare you off. It seemed like the only thing keeping you from ripping each other’s clothes off was your job. Or so he thought.

Now he was confused. It was clear you hadn’t meant to say what you said – but you said it. I could kiss you. Can’t put the toothpaste back in the tube. Four words that looped in his brain. He had spent so much time dissecting the meaning of the word “could,” he felt like he could be a lawyer too. But he had taken his time closing the space between you in the hallway. When he leaned in, you leaned in too. You had ample time to tell him off if he had misconstrued the whole thing, and he would never think less of you if you did, but you didn’t.

No, what just happened was not a rejection. You were just skittish. Like a cat hiding under a bed, you just needed to be coaxed out – slowly. You were food motivated, he’d learned that about you during your first outing in Belgium when you put down more bon bons than he thought was humanly possible. Yes, all you needed was to be approached with patience and understanding - and maybe the promise of a full belly.

-

You leaned against the door and squeezed your eyes shut, embarrassment already crashing over you like a tidal wave. You knew you were being ridiculous and immature. What was it that you were still afraid of?

You stripped off your suit immediately, it felt stuffy and heavy as you overheated, the reminder of your attorney-client relationship falling to the floor. You threw on the first thing you grabbed out of your bag - why did it have to be that pesky yellow dress again?

You paced your room for what felt like hours. Your professional activities with Daniel had officially come to its natural conclusion and yet you were still hesitant to move forward. It didn’t help that you were in a country that banned the cohabitation of unmarried couples, so really, what were you even going to do?

Despite the confessions exchanged back in Mexico and the kiss in Brazil, it was never guaranteed that anything would actually happen once Daniel’s legal affairs were settled. Frankly, you still weren’t fully convinced the conversations ever actually happened. You refused to believe the lingering stares and little touches that lasted a little too long were anything more than pure coincidence.

In spite of all of it, you remained unconvinced about how Daniel actually felt about you. Over the years of failed relationships and first dates that ranged from awkward to bad, you had grown wary and skeptical of romantic pursuits. For all you knew, all his lip-service was simply an elaborate ruse to get in your pants. You thought on this worst case scenario, which really wasn’t so bad. God forbid you have one night stand with a Formula 1 driver and live to tell the tale. It would be a lie to say you wouldn’t be hurt at first if you were correct, but you would eventually be fine. You had been happily single and independent for years, it would simply be a return to your de facto state.

And even if you could take him at his word, you couldn’t help but wonder what that relationship would look like when you had to resume work for other clients and the luxury of constant travel and proximity ceased. How would you continue to keep in touch? How often would you actually be able to see each other in person? Your first relationship was with The Firm, and you knew you weren’t ready to give up your livelihood for him. Then there was the other issue of paparazzi and tabloids - the forced spotlight that would fall on you, resulting in the lack of privacy and anonymity. You had no desire for fame, yet he seemed to be designed for it. You could go toe-to-toe with opposing counsel any day, but you weren’t sure you had his mental fortitude to withstand the cruel and unsolicited opinions of strangers on the internet.

You weighed the pros and cons over and over again in your head. For someone with such a demanding job, it made no sense that it all felt so overwhelming and complicated. But it was telling that the Australian was the first person you wanted to confide in. He was the only one who could ever quiet the constant hurricane in your mind that caused you to spiral if left unchecked. In this moment, you needed him to ground you.

You had been raised to leave hotel room minibars alone unless you wanted to bankrupt you and your entire family for two generations. Going against everything you believed, you took a nip from the stock. Hoping the small amount of liquid courage would do the trick, you checked your reflection in the mirror one last time before venturing to the room next door. You would simply have to assume the risk of the unknown aftermath.

With shaking hands, you opened the door only to be met with Daniel’s presence before you. He jumped slightly at the sudden movement. You did a poor job hiding your astonishment that left you frozen in place.

“Oh… hi?” Your eyes remained wide. He looked around and scratched the back of his head, appearing to be as surprised and confused as you were.

“Hi – I uh,” he took a moment to give you a once over. “I’m sorry are you about to go somewhere? You look nice.” You felt your face turn red immediately, the bravery you built up moments ago dissipating in an instance. He shifted his weight, quickly correcting himself. “Not that you don’t always look nice! I just – you look nicer than usual. I mean-” He seemed uncharacteristically nervous and was digging himself a hole. You looked around the hall to ensure it was empty and took a deep breath to save him from digging any deeper.

“Yes actually. I was going to see you.” He seemed surprised and relieved at the answer.

“No way, I was about to see you!” He shook his head when he saw you bite back a smile. “Obviously, I’ve been standing outside your door,” he laughed nervously, his confidence shrinking by the second. “Not for very long though! You didn’t need to know that. But I wanted to come to say I’m sorry about before, I was too forward back there. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just figured, you know, since we went pencils down and everything, maybe we could-”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“Did I stutter?” You walked backwards as you took his hand, leading him through the doorway. He didn’t fight your lead.

“-you don’t know what I was going to ask.” You leaned back, allowing the door to click behind you under your weight.

“It doesn’t matter. The answer is yes.” You gave him a reassuring smile and gently squeezed his hand bringing him closer. “With you it will always be yes.” It seemed both of you were at a loss for words, but they were unnecessary as he took a step towards you closing the small gap that remained. His eyes were enchantingly curious as they gazed into yours. You only looked away for a millisecond, distracted by the tongue that broke free from his mouth to moisten his plump lips. You took a deep inhale in anticipation, your heartbeat bordering on palpitations as his lips closed in.

The moment they met yours, immediately you knew you never wanted boundaries with this man ever again. One hand cupped the side of your face while the other grabbed your waist to pull you closer. You wrapped your arms around his neck in an effort to eliminate any remaining iota of space between the two of you. Your lips danced and moved together in unison, neither of you wanting to come up for air. His firm calloused hands roamed your body, unsure of where to rest. There were so many parts of you he had never touched before and he wanted desperately to become acquainted with them as quickly as possible. He squeezed your shoulders, ran them down the lengths of your arms, moved to the small of your back up towards your neck, in your hair.

The feverishness of it all began to slow, as he tried to memorize every peak and valley. He reverently moved his hands from your waist, dragging them up the length of your spine, one hand finding its way to your hair as though he wanted to remember every hair follicle, the other keeping your body firmly pressed against his. The leisurely pace only teased you, and each spot he touched left your body buzzing. He slowly brought his other hand to find yours again, repositioning so your fingers interlocked. The sweet gesture felt suddenly sinful when he pinned them to the wall, dragging them up the door until they were next to your head. The motion made your head spin, warmth spreading between your thighs, and you inadvertently let out a soft moan.

Ravenous for more, he firmly pressed your bodies together against the door, almost knocking the wind out of you. He pulled away only for a moment, his eyes pleading.

Can I?

You nodded your head frantically, capturing his mouth once more while guiding his hands to the parts you desperately needed touched. One gently cupped your breast while the other roughly grabbed your ass, kneading the muscles underneath. You both groaned in unison at the new sensation.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to touch you,” he mouthed breathlessly before finding your neck, hoping the feeling was mutual. You didn’t say anything back, but he could tell from the pant of your breath and the pulse under his lips that it was. You threw your head back as he sucked, licked, and nipped at the sweet spot as he gently grazed his thumb over your bra, immediately feeling your nipple form into a stiff peak underneath. Being mindful of your noise level, you bit back a moan that ended up coming out as a pathetic whimper. You shamelessly pushed your hips against his and squeezed his hand on your breast, encouraging him to explore and desperate for more contact.

You instinctively widened your stance for him to perch himself between your legs. His hand played with the waistband of your underwear through your dress, trailing down to your inner upper thigh.

“Stop teasing,” you hissed. He only smiled into the kiss in response, his tongue pushing into your mouth to shut you up.

Your hands followed their own curious whims. Those pecs that you had gotten an eyeful of several times felt warm and firm under your touch. Your palm dragged down the ripples of his abs, gently landing over the front of his pants. You gasped feeling him harden under your touch for the first time, eliciting a low growl from him in return. His hips pushed forward in frustration, eager for more. You allowed him some relief, undoing his belt and pants, cautiously reaching inside. Your eyes widened.

“Holy shit,” you muttered as you grabbed around his length, your hand suddenly feeling quite small. He looked you dead in the eye, that familiar cocky smirk and twinkle returning to his face.

“Come on,” he flashed you a wicked grin. “You knew it had to be big.” You laughed at his boldness, which only inspired him to double down. “I know how to use it too.”

“That’s some awfully big talk.” You already had goosebumps from your head to your toes, but you weren’t going to let him know that just yet. You would make sure he worked for it. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“It’s not the only thing I know how to use.”

He captured your mouth in a gentle, chaste kiss as he used one hand to pull up the hem of your dress. His other hand snuck under the skirt, slowly dragging it across your skin. Rough and calloused from racing, they felt tantalizingly delicate.

“I was going to prove it, but it looks like I already convinced you.” He drew little spirals around your clit over your panties, barely applying any pressure. You bit your lip and looked up to the ceiling, praying for relief from the building tension. To your chagrin, his hand began to pull away.

“No. Please,” was all you could muster, your brain searching for more eloquent words that escaped you.

“Please what?” You reached for his crotch, hoping the action would suffice as an answer, but he grabbed your wrist to pin it to the door. “You have to use your words.” You felt the words on his breath that seeped through your skin.

“Please touch me.” Frustrated, you used your free hand to try to get him to fully take your dress off which was only getting in the way. He obliged, releasing your other hand to get a hold of the fabric. You put your arms up as he gathered the material over your head. Throwing the garment aside, he pulled away slightly to observe you for a moment. His eyes widening as they moved down your frame, trying and failing to hide his growing smirk.

“Do you always wear pretty underwear when you close a deal? Or are these for me?” He played with the pink lacy textile between his fingers, admiring how they accentuated the contour of your waist and hips.

“Both,” you gasped as he dragged a finger down your front. It passed over your clit, down to the fabric covering your entrance, smiling feeling how embarrassingly soaked you already were through the thin material.

With a chaste kiss on the cheek, he proceeded to leave a trail of kisses down your neck, chest, stomach, until he reached the hem of fabric. He continued over the garment, bypassing the spot he knew you needed him to your inner thigh. The gentle touches and the scruff of his beard almost tickled, panting as he moved down your body.

He looped his thumbs around the sides of your thong, pausing to look up hopefully for permission. You nodded with lidded, lustful eyes. He couldn’t hide his dimples and he continued to tease, dragging your panties slowly down your legs, taking care to pick up each foot to get you out of them. Your heart swelled as you observed him treating you so delicately, like a fragile porcelain doll. His trail of kisses started again from the bottom, beginning at your ankle, to the inside of your knee and again to your upper thigh until he reached an apex.

“Hold on.” You weren’t sure what he meant at first. Then without warning, he grabbed your hip and threw your opposite leg over his shoulder, finally diving into your center. Your hands instinctively found their way to his head to stabilize yourself, accidentally letting out a yelp in the process which soon after turned into a low moan as his tongue swirled slow circles around your clit. “You taste so fucking good,” he mumbled into your skin.

The vision of him on his knees fully clothed, contrasted with your nakedness enhanced his touch and sent you spiraling. Your hands raked through his gorgeous curls as he lapped you up. The pressure he applied gradually increased, culminating to him inserting a finger in you, then two. You slapped a hand over your mouth as the pressure pooled and he found his rhythm with his tongue and fingers. He knew you were close when your legs started to shake and squeezed around him. The waves came crashing over you as you bucked your hips erratically. He removed his fingers so that he could stabilize you, but his mouth never stopped.

He finally put your other leg back on the ground when your hips slowed and stood up. Your legs almost buckled from underneath you but he caught you before you could fall, lifting you to walk to the bed.

You watched him carry you wordlessly, your brain still short circuiting from your orgasm only knowing enough to wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. Not because you thought he’d drop you, but because you wanted to be as close to him as possible. It still wasn’t close enough.

He sat himself down on the bed with you landing in his lap, legs still wrapped tightly. There had never been a time where the two of you have been in the same room and exchanged so few words. You continued to stare at each other, simply amazed to be in the same space and sharing skin after three long anguished months of resisting forbidden fruit.

Your gaze fell to his swollen lips that you desperately wanted to taste again, still shiny with your essence. His hand pressed up your back until he grabbed a fistful of hair, bringing you in fervently for another kiss. It was the kind of kiss that enveloped you, that turned your legs to water and caused currents in you to flow creating bountiful energy that begged for release. Your hands roamed from his shoulders, down his chest and abs to the hem of his shirt. The two of you pried it off together and he threw it somewhere on the floor. Your mouths met again gluing your torsos together, your currents crashing in a tidal wave of electricity and emotion.

You unwrapped your legs to straddle him, lightly pushing him backwards. He pulled you with him as you both fell into the bed, smiling into each other and little giggles filling the air. You rolled your hips over him, annoyed with the layers that still separated you from the waist down. You reached down, sloppily pushing at his pants to demonstrate your displeasure. He understood your message, weaving his arms past you to finish the job and shimmying his legs until they were off. You reached down the waistband of his boxer briefs, teasing your fingertips just underneath but not going further. It thrilled you to feel his muscles tense underneath your touch. He nipped your bottom lip when your hand moved further south, and you could feel his jaw clench.

He pulled away suddenly, and you couldn’t place the look on his face which made you nervous.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing! It’s just…” his hand cupped the side of your face, caressing your cheek. “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.”

Your heart swelled at how delicate he was with you, at how much he cared. But you didn’t want to be treated delicately. And now you almost felt bad about how much you’d teased him up to this point. Almost.

“Do you know,” you said sitting up, your hand ghosting over the outline of him through his boxer briefs, “I had a sex dream about you. Right before the Japanese Grand Prix.”

“No,” he ground out.

“You had my legs spread on a desk in some McLaren office.” You felt his whole body clench again as you slid the last piece of clothing down his legs. As though the thought hadn’t crossed his mind every time you admonished him for not paying attention or not taking things seriously in those early days. The frequency of course increased, to every time you bent over, smiled, or played with your hair, to simply existing. For once, he was the one blushing and you found it entirely endearing. “I’ve literally dreamt of fucking you for three months. I want you and I need you. Now.”

His pupils dilated at your words, and his hands moved possessively from your face down to your ass where his fingers sank into your skin hoping to mark and keep you. He tried to find the words to communicate how badly he wanted and needed you too, but blood was no longer flowing to his brain and no words seemed perfect enough for you. His shaft twitched against his toned stomach, eager for your touch. You relieved him, wrapping your full hand around his impressive length pumping up and down a few times, your gentle grip slowly firming with each stroke.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. His hand found your waist and you felt his grip tighten as you continued. You slithered down his body until your mouth aligned with him, spitting over his tip. He felt voyeuristic watching the saliva drip from your tongue. You looked up to see him gripping the sheets for dear life.

“Is that alright?” He nodded fervently.

“Only if you want to,” he croaked out. Bless this man, who just wanted to make sure you were comfortable even though it looked like his eyes were going to roll back into his head.

“I do. Very much,” you insisted. You dragged your tongue slowly from the base of his shaft to his tip. “You made me feel good.” Lick. “Now I want to make you feel good.” His shallow breath hitched when you finally took him in your mouth. Your eyes watered as he hit the back of your throat, you looked up to make sure he was still breathing. You found him slack jawed, but eyes full of lust. He brought a hand to your head. You prepared your gag reflex expecting him to force your rhythm, but instead simply pushed your hair out of your face.

“Fuck, you look so good.” You felt the slickness spread between your thighs at his praise, adding a hand to his base where your mouth couldn’t quite reach. You increased your speed, moaning into him. He happily absorbed the vibrations, reflexively bucking his hips into you. You tasted salty precum at his tip and could tell he was close.

“W-wait,” you slowed your pace but didn’t remove him as you looked up again. “I don’t want to finish yet. Not like this.” You slowly pried yourself off him, finishing with a satisfying *pop* as you released him. You saw his chest rise and fall at an alarming rate. He helped pull you up, interlocking your fingers in the process.

“What do you want?” you asked, knowing you would do whatever came out of his mouth without hesitation.

“Grab my jeans?” You couldn't hide your skepticism, but nonetheless begrudgingly left the nicest seat you’ve ever known to find his pants somewhere on the floor. You resumed your spot on his lap as he frantically searched his pockets, finally locating his wallet and fished out a condom. Everything else found its way back to the ground. Eyes wide, he maintained a death grip on the condom. “You’re sure?”

You smiled. You thumbed his jawline as you brought your foreheads together. “I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.” It took him about four seconds to process what you said, but when he did closed the gap between your lips in a messy and desperate kiss that sucked the air out of you. It dizzied him too and only pulled away when he remembered he had to open the condom. You leaned back to give him some space as he struggled with the wrapper. His brow furrowed in frustration as he tried to steady his shaky hands.

“I swear I’m usually a lot smoother than this,” he muttered. You bit back a laugh.

“I believe you.”  

“You just make me nervous,” he admitted, uncharacteristically bashful. “In case you couldn’t tell.”

“Hardly noticed,” you said sarcastically, but reassured him with a giggle. “It’s very endearing, if it makes you feel any better.” You calmly grabbed it from him.

“It does,” he confessed as he let you take it from his hands. Without breaking eye contact, you ripped the wrapper easily with your teeth. You felt him twitch under you as you wriggled yourself against him in content, allowing him to feel your arousal. He swallowed thickly. “Where did you learn that?”

“That’s for me to know and for you to find out,” you smirked. You moved off him for a moment, and he took the chance to stroke himself a few times, watching you absentmindedly. How your hair, now perfectly tousled, fell around your shoulders. How gravity worked miracles on the swell of your breasts. How your waist sloped into your hips and thighs. You patiently presented the condom back to him and he used all his concentration to take it from you to roll it down his length. He looked at you hopefully when he was done and you rewarded him with another kiss, your hair cascading around the two of you creating a protective curtain around your new little intimate universe.

You both watched as you eased yourself onto his cock, voyeurs of your own lust. Your moans harmonized as he bottomed out. You felt deliciously stretched and full. Complete. You began slow to adjust to his size, teasing him in the process with your agonizing pace, rising up to the point of almost dismount before sinking back down again engulfing his full length.

“Does this feel good?” you cooed, already knowing the answer as you swirled your hips with him bottomed out inside you, tormentingly slow.

“Yes. Fuck yes,” he groaned as he palmed your ass. “You’re so fucking tight.” You dragged a hand from his chest, down the ripples of his abs, towards where the two of you intercepted. With his jaw clenched, he sank his fingers in your hips, trying unsuccessfully to steady them as you continued to rock. “You look so good with me inside you.”

He lifted his hips to meet yours as proof of his enjoyment, the new angle jolting you forward slightly. A moan escaped as you found a rhythm as you rolled your hips back and forth, itching for the friction of his skin against your already swollen clit. Your pace quickened as his length hit that sacred spot deep in your core over and over. The bounce of your tits mesmerized him. Unable to resist, his mouth found a nipple, flicking his tongue back and forth over the sensitive peak that had you seeing stars.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you whimpered. You felt the pressure pool and coil in your lower abdomen. Your eyes closed when he grabbed the back of your head, gently pulling your hair.

“Look at me. I want you to look at me when you come.” All you could do was nod in response, worried that any sound you might let out at that point would alert the whole building. It was impossible to look away from his gaze even if you wanted to. You bit your lip as the pressure continued to build, hypnotized by the repetition and sensory overload. You rocked back onto him a final time before reaching your release, collapsing on forward onto his chest and his name falling off your tongue like a prayer as your hips slowed and stuttered.

Yes

Daniel

He’d never heard a more beautiful sound before. His mouth caught yours again, absorbing the moans that continued as you rode out your orgasm. He wrapped an arm around your lower back to pull you flush to his chest and began to upthrust, building to an excruciating pace. You held onto his shoulders for dear life.

“W-what are you doing?” You knew you sounded pathetic, barely able to form the sentence. He smirked.

“Getting you to Number Three.”

“I can’t,” you whined. He pulled you close and rolled the two of you over, taking care to remain buried inside of you. You gasped at the sudden movement, eyes wide when you landed on your back.

“Three’s my lucky number.” He gave a few slow pumps before pushing himself up to spread your legs. He admired the change in your face at each new angle, each expression more perfect than the next. He brought his thumb down to your clit and watched you whither under his touch. With the new view he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. “Don’t worry, I’ll do the work this time.”

You couldn’t argue with his logic. The only response you could give were incantations of profanities as he fucked you into the mattress and his gentle finger rubbing the sensitive nub just above where your bodies joined. He glistened as beads of sweat formed over his body, enhancing the contours of his muscles with each thrust. It was all too much. You felt your walls begin to clench again, your body eagerly anticipating its reward.

Daniel saw your mouth mold into an “o”, the slight twitch of your muscles, and felt the pressure that was building inside you. He prayed you were close knowing that his stamina would soon run out.

“That’s it. Come for me.” Daniel counted his blessings that he should be so lucky to have a front row seat, not once, not twice, but three times to your orgasms. You were so beautiful. Too beautiful. He couldn’t stop himself from chasing his own high as he watched you twist and contort under him. His thrusts became more frantic and erratic as your moans filled the room until he spilled into you, lurching forward but catching himself before fully collapsing on top of you.

Finally the motions stopped, except for the quickened rise and fall of your chests as you both tried to catch your breath. You blinked at each other a few times, still unable to move or think. Daniel broke the silence.

“Holy shit.” You couldn’t help the stupid grin that formed. You pressed a hand to his cheek just to make sure he was still real.

“That good, huh?” He begrudgingly began to move and pulled out of you, rolling over to your side. He propped himself on his elbow and looked down on you, absentmindedly drawing patterns on your soft belly.  

“I was just going to ask if you wanted to grab dinner. But that was way better.” You both laughed as you nuzzled into each other, still peppering the other with butterfly kisses and holding onto the belief that the world was the size of a queen-size bed.

Eventually he got up to go to the bathroom. As soon as he left your side, the intrusive thoughts returned and you began mentally preparing yourself for the inevitable goodbye. You watched silently as he searched the floor for his underwear, blissfully unaware of your inner turmoil. This was fun you repeated in your head. It will be a good story to tell you tried convincing yourself.  

He came back to bed and snuggled up against you.

“Now what?” he asked innocently. You squinted back at him, laughing slightly.  

“That’s an awfully loaded question, don’t you think?” He seemed confounded for a moment.

“I mean, I was just thinking we could get food now? What were you thinking?” You forgot that men could be such simple creatures. Maybe it was the audacity that allowed them to go about life blissfully unaware or unconcerned about hypothetical what if’s and unintended consequences of their actions. But for now, maybe you needed to think like a man too. You didn’t need to solve all the world’s problems in one night. Maybe all you needed was to just enjoy whatever this was for whatever time was left before you got on a flight tomorrow to return to reality.

“Yeah, I guess I worked up an appetite.” He broke into a wide grin. He grabbed your face to bless you with a kiss on the forehead before fetching the menu.

“Great. I’ll order us room service.”

-

Your eyes fluttered open the next morning. Scenes from the night before played on a loop in your head. Sweaty bodies entangled in a sea of limbs. In your experience, men who were that charismatic and that good looking rarely knew what to do with the bodies they had been blessed with. And yet…

You were afraid to open your eyes, not ready to let go of the memory that brought a smile to your face so you kept them closed a bit longer. Instead, you extended a hesitant hand to the other side of the bed expecting to feel the warm body of your evening companion, but you felt nothing. You reluctantly opened your eyes.

“Dan?” Your voice was soft and hoarse from sleep. Nothing. Maybe he hadn’t heard you.

“Daniel?” You tried again, a bit louder this time. Still no response.

You slowly got out of bed half asleep, the line between your dreams and the real world still not quite defined. You zombie-walked to the window, delicately drawing back the blackout curtains of the hotel room. You winced as your eyes adjusted to the natural light. Your clothes were still on the floor where they had been unceremoniously discarded, but the other outfit that had kept them company had disappeared. Your heart fell.

“Daniel?” you tried one last time, voice cracking slightly. Maybe he was in the bathroom. Maybe he had eaten something bad yesterday. You knocked on the door before cautiously opening it. You stood in the doorway a beat too long, unable to move from the empty space. He had been so convincing, so charming, and you fell for it. You had been so guarded and careful, you thought you had sniffed out any unsavory motives and you still were left feeling used and abandoned.

You blinked back tears before they could fall, hiding your defeat from no one in particular in the privacy of your hotel room. You wiped your eyes, chugged a glass of water, for some masochist reason put on your Enchante sweatshirt and got back into bed. It was still early, maybe you could sleep another few hours before you had to get ready to go to the airport. Maybe that sleep would help you forget and ease the overwhelming humiliation and melancholy that fell over you.

As you began to drift off, a noise at the door startled you awake. You realized it was the sound of the door key and grabbed sheets to cover yourself quickly, unsure what else to do.

“I’m not ready for housecleaning!” you yelled uncertainly, praying it was in fact hotel staff and not a burglar.

“Hey hey hey, it’s just me. Good morning to you too.” You slowly peaked your head from under the covers, shocked at the sound of the reassuring, achingly familiar Australian accent. The driver stood in the foyer, his hands overflowing with bags and precariously balancing two coffee cups. You sat up a bit more as you processed the sight in front of you.

“What-?” you trailed off. He seemed nervous, but a smile never left his face.

“I, uh, wanted to surprise you with breakfast. There’s a little place down the street. But you looked so peaceful sleeping and I didn’t want to wake you, so I grabbed your room key. But I realized when I got there I didn’t know what you liked, and my phone died, so I kind of got one of everything…I hope that’s ok. I didn’t mean to scare you –“

As he rambled, you had silently gotten out of bed to grab the cups from his hands, placing them on the table along with the insane amount of bags, one by one. With all obstacles removed, you enveloped your arms around his neck and stamped his lips with a kiss. He was surprised by the sudden gesture but returned it eagerly, his hands still familiarizing themselves with you. He blinked a few times when you pulled away.

“I promise I will get breakfast for you every day if you like it that much.” You laughed with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes, and you looked away.

“I thought you left,” your small voice shrank in embarrassment that you had jumped to conclusions so quickly. You couldn’t bring yourself to explain further.

But you didn’t have to. He wrapped you in a bear hug crushing you into his chest, his lips nuzzled into the crown of your head, his body heat invigorating you.

“I’m sorry, I should have texted or let you know where I was.”

“No, it’s silly. I was being overdramatic.”

“It’s not silly. And I’m not going anywhere.”

“But what does that mean?” you asked in exasperation. He pulled away and looked at you in disbelief that you would even ask such a question.

“What do you want it to mean?” You bit your lip in frustration.

“Daniel, don’t be obtuse. In a couple of hours we’re getting on different planes to go to opposite sides of the world.”

“And?”

“We’re not going to see each other.”

“Well then it’s a good thing I know people with private jets.”

“I still have to work.”

“I’ll come to you.”

“My apartment is small.”

“I can pack light.”

“What if you meet someone else when we’re not together?” He let out an irritated sigh.

“I don’t want to meet anyone else.”

You were stumped. He could read the confused look on your face and gently grabbed the sides of your shoulders. “You know, for someone so smart you can be really dumb sometimes.” You crossed your arms.

“Hey!”

“I know it’s hard for you to believe for some reason, but I want to give this a real shot. I want to take you on a proper date. See what things look like when I’m not paying you to spend time with me.”

You looked down, feeling a little guilty about how much you doubted him. You couldn’t help that you were risk averse by nature.

“Did you just… Socratic method me to get me to understand that you like me?”

“Did it work?”

“Let’s just say you have a bright future as a law school professor if this whole driving thing doesn’t work out.” You paused for a moment, still trying to wrap your head around everything. “So… you really want to give this a go?” He rolled his eyes.

“Is it really that hard to believe?”

“I mean – yeah, a little. The world that you operate in is just so much different than mine. Your world consists of beautiful people.”

“You’re beautiful,” he retorted. You blushed but didn’t let the comment throw you off your stride.

“You know what I mean. Your world is glamorous and luxurious. My world is average. It’s a lot of take-out, it’s late nights on the phone with Joe, it’s boring suits, it’s work - without the recognition and without the spotlight. You could have any actress or model or singer in the world and you pick me. Can you blame me for being skeptical?” His face fell slightly as he realized that you didn’t think your shine was bright enough for him. But it was quickly replaced with something mischievous.

“What are you talking about? You’re a singer,” he said matter-of-factly. You rolled your eyes.

“You’ve unfortunately seen me do karaoke, we both know that’s a lie.”

“Your morning shower performances beg to differ.” He laughed at the terror that flashed before your eyes as you threw your hands over your mouth, but quickly reassured you. “I’ve listened to you every morning since we got here. It’s the best part of my day, until I see you.” He pried your hands from your face, holding them in his. “And the last thing you are, is average. Can we please just try?”

You bit your lip, unable to contain the blush spurred by his words of affirmation. The squeeze of his hands on yours caused the dormant butterflies in your stomach to flutter their delicate wings and rise to your chest. A comforting warmth enveloped you, it rose to your cheeks and the answer was there plain as day on your face for him and the world to see. No, it couldn’t hurt to try.

“Only if… you’ll do a duet with me.” After holding his breath for what seemed like eternity, his joy and happiness hanging in the balance waiting for your response, he broke into a toothy grin that used every dimple and laugh line on his face. Without skipping a beat, he threw you over his shoulder and made his way to the bathroom leaving a trail of your giggles in his wake.

“I’m ready for my audition.”

[itgirlgyu]

how i think txt would react if their female best friend sat on their lap

requested!

YEONJUN...

oh my god totally bitchless behavior coming in within 0.4 seconds

like this man will stop functioning, like is it normal to have your hands on the side?

tries to strike a pose

like daniel,, bby you're embarrassing yourself

swear he thinks he's like aha so fine

might lean back to play it cool

but you know he stiff as hell

like basically it's that dad pose when you know you've disappointed him and you're about to sit with him in a dark living room to soak in the immeasurable shame you've brought to the family.

his undergarment is drenched from stress sweats

might actually start stuttering

pls get off him before his dry sex life makes him pop a boner and the friendship gets ruined for life.

SOOBIN...

his head starts overheating due to overthinking the moment you sit on his lap like

the only two option were the floor where beomgyu spilled his drink or any of the dudes lap and he's your bestie boo so ofc you'd pick him

right?

tries to gaslight himself into thinking it's fine

like sure this shit is fine and it's normal to sit on each others laps.

but inside his head there are 4 tabs open, two of them are having a debate on the pros and cons of having your best friend on your lap and other two are playing tiktok random hits and he doesn't know which one he should tune in to

for the peace of his own mind, he tries to sit on your lap the next time

tit for tat he says.

BEOMGYU...

starts acting like you are crushing his thighs

he knows you playing so he's like aha two can play the game

girl you really thought you will outdo the doer

the og mr. mood breaker?

will straight up start moaning in your ears

starts squirming and whining like

'oooof my thighs are so fragile,'

does not give two cents about the place he is in

or the situation

or what people will assume

if soobin is the overthinker, beomgyu rarely thinks

its like his brain just takes off in a rush and it's taken over by the sheer need to annoy the fuck out of his bestie.

he's like the fly you can't just quite swat away

literally starts doing his own echo moan from one ear to another

you have to admit the defeat and get up on your own.

TAEHYUN...

will not straight up push you off him.

but the look he gives you, he might as well just put in the physical effort and do it.

his face is like, 'you did this for what?'

'why not?'

'why though?'

tries to get used to you sitting on him

like its chill

you're his bestie and he's a gym goer

so it does work out nicely

but the thing is like,

your back is blocking his vision

like its all chill and cute in movies but irl your sight will definitely get blocked and it has nothing to do with the person's height!

he tries to adjust so that he doesn't need to kick you off of him

and hurt your feelings or something

man is here jumping through hoops to seem effortless in order to continue his debate with hyuka about the importance of the balance between peanut butter and jelly in the sandwich

you see his struggle and move over on your own with a new found respect for terry the terrance taehyun kang

HUENING KAI...

he's looking at your head like, hmm you kinda sus

but that lasts like a whole lot of ten seconds before he's like nothings even on him

although he tries to smell the top of your head like what is the difference between a baby's head and an adult's crown

he is a curious little crow, it's one of his charms

makes a quick mental note to break it to you gently that you might need to take a lil bit more hygiene care on the top of your head.

he leans back

unlike yeonjun the daniel choi, he's fr chill

also man's broad as hell

he's like meant to be a chair at this point

you can lean in as much as you want on him and you know he would fine with anything

like he barely feels you on him anyway

you can probably just lean back on him and he'd cradle you like his first born

just maybe not kiss the top of your head

but he finally got an idea what to gift you on your birthday!

so it all worked out for the best!

© to itgirlgyu. feedbacks are highly appreciated and welcomed!!!!

[maxybabyy]

The sheets are cold when Daniel wakes, and Max is nowhere to be seen.

Dawn’s about to break, but the streets of Paris are still alight; loud and bountiful as people make their way back home. He’s only been here for a handful of months, but Paris is already so much different than back home. Daniel doesn’t know how he lived without it.

When he finds Max, he’s outside on the balcony, dressed in his robe from the night before, soft white stark even against his pale skin.

Before, Daniel had stared at the elephant in awe. The impressive architecture and intricate decorations. Had wondered what it would be like to live there, a place fit for a prince. Now he knows better.

“You’re gonna get a cold out here,” he says, wraps his arms around Max’s waist. He kisses his shoulder, drags his lips over the knobs of his spine until he reaches the lock of his necklace, the pendant enormous as it lies in the hollow of his neck.

It’s a recent addition, a gift from the duke. Awful and gauche in taste, but worth more than anything Daniel’s ever owned. Less than Max deserves, but still more than he could ever dream of giving him.

Max shivers in his arms, his entire body tense against his. Not unlike how he had been when they first met.

Well – not, not the very first time, Daniel thinks.

“Enchante,” Daniel had said in broken French and kissed his hand. Max wide-eyed and sweaty straight after a show. Max had been keen then. Even as he had thought Daniel was the duke, part of him had wanted it too. Max had told him so, after. When the truth had come out.

That Daniel wasn’t a duke, but another one of Charles’ idealistic friends who believed in love before everything else. In song and poetry, in creativity and feeling.

Max had been mad then. Furious and mad, embarrassed that he had let Daniel into his bed so easily. So used to the give and take, that Daniel’s adoration hadn’t felt like it was enough. But it was, is enough, Daniel knows now.

“Christian came by,” Max says, his voice hoarse. It could be the cold, the nipping wind that has come with the turn of fall, but Daniel thinks he must have been crying too. “After – when the show ended, after he came by.”

“Yeah?” Daniel says, cautious. His hands tighten on Max’s hips, the bones jutted out awkwardly where they used to be soft. He’s getting too thin, Daniel thinks. If it’s not a show, he’s at rehearsal – Charles relentless in his vision of the perfect play. “What did he want then? Had another brilliant idea, did he?”

Max breathes out, steady and quiet. Daniel feels how his chest expands with the motion, how he trembles as the air leaves him.

“He came to say the duke could not come, that he was busy with business,” Max tells him, steadfast. “That he would see me tonight instead. He left me another present also. But this I don’t care about.”

Daniel frowns. “Why is this –“

Max doesn’t care much for the duke. Christian needs him to keep the theatre in business, Max needs Christian, so Max keeps the duke happy.

Daniel doesn’t like to imagine how it works. He knows Max has sex with the duke when he isn’t with him, that he’s supposed to only be with the duke and no one else, that Christian promised it would be as such. Daniel doesn’t care about that. But Max –

Max doesn’t lie. His heart lives on his sleeve, and his mouth doesn’t ever stay shut, even when it should. But still the duke doesn’t know, believes Max to be as infatuated with him as he is with Max.

“That’s a good thing, no?” He asks.

Max turns in his arms, leans against the railing. It puts another inch of space between them, and Daniel already hates it, braces himself for what Max will say next. “Daniel, if he had come, if Christian had not come here instead, he would of course have seen you,” Max says, tugs the robe tighter around him.

“I would have –“ Daniel says in a rush, pushes closer to Max. “We would have heard him, Maxy. I would have slipped out before –“ But Max twists away from him and escapes inside.

“Always you sleep like the dead, Daniel.” Max snarls. His head is in his hands, but Daniel hears him clearly. “Charles was here last week to work on the finale, and still you slept! You would not have woken, and we would have been caught. He would know that I am with you also, that you have my heart.”

“But he didn’t,” Daniel says and gives chases, quick to follow in Max’s steps. “He didn’t come, and he doesn’t know, won’t ever know. I promise you, Max.”

Max shakes his head, “We have to stop. He cannot know, Daniel.”

“We cannot stop, please Maxy. I love –“

Max sucks in a breath. There’s fucking murder in his eyes as he glares at him, and if Daniel was any less of a man, his mouth would stay shut. But he isn’t, cannot be if he wants to be with Max.

“I love you, Max.” He says again, reaches for Max, and this time Max lets him hold him. “I love you. Don’t let him change that.”

They’ve been here before, Max with one foot out of the door. But Daniel loves him enough to keep pulling him back in, to make sure he knows there is nothing he wants more than Max’s love. That all this would be for nought if Max turned him away now.

“He will of course never stop,” Max says, miserable.

“And neither will I,” Daniel says and leans in for a kiss. “I will write you a million love songs, so even if – if he takes you away from me, you will always know how I feel. How I love you, Max.”

“Daniel, don’t –“ But it’s Daniel’s turn to shake his head.

“Just promise me that you will always love me, that’s all I ask,” Daniel says, begs of him. “Everything else, we can figure out. But this, please, Max. Promise me.”

“I do, I of course do,” Max says, kisses him desperately. “I love you too, Daniel.”

And that is enough for now, it has to be, he knows.

[apoptoses]

💖 What made you start writing? 🧠 Marius ! And/or Pandora.

💖 What made you start writing?

wow wow make me embarrass myself right out of the gate here lmao

honestly the answer is YOU, and @hekateinhell and @rainbowcarousels. like i inhaled all you guys's fic last fall and read your meta and stuff here on tumblr and it just looked like you were all having so much fun and being creative? and then i thought maybe if i tried writing and liked it, other people would talk to me about armand and i could make VC friends. and look at us now!!

and i've always been a maladaptive daydreamer, whenever i get a new blorbo i end up playing out scenes about them in my head so i thought maybe writing would be a good outlet for those thoughts. and then instead of being a weirdo who stares into space thinking about armand getting fucked dumb i would be ~plotting~ and my adhd symptom would become something productive lmao

i wish i had some deeper, more inspirational reason but 'i wanna make friends and put my weirdo thoughts to good use' is really all there is to it.

🧠 Marius ! And/or Pandora.

okay okay marius head canons, let's go:

cat guy. like cats were highly respected in ancient rome and as a guy who likes to own fine things, he would not have been down to have pests in the house. so he's always been the type to sit out food for local strays and have a favorite or two he lets wander his home. i like to imagine him giving some philosophical monologue to pandora about how vampires are similar to cats, they're both instinctual killers and pandora being like 'are you really trying to mansplain cats to me in order to justify to yourself how much you enjoy petting the stray that lives in your garden?'

i see him being a really thoughtful gift giver. he has such a hard time expressing remorse and admitting he did something wrong, so he became great at picking out presents to compensate. and besides he just has great taste. definitely the guy everyone in auvergne wants to pull their name the year lestat insists on playing the mortal game of 'secret santa'.

i feel like it would be easy to assume he hates modern art because he's such a classicist. and maybe he did at first, he didn't get the purpose of painting with such a seeming 'lack' of technique until he stood in front of a rothko himself. and with his vampire vision he saw all the subtle variations in red that covered the canvas and he got it, he was deeply moved.

definitely went all in on architecture during the egpytian revival period and had home with a facade that replicated an ancient temple. (this didn't make akasha give him any special attention. not that he would admit to hoping for that or anything, he was just keeping up with the times, obviously)

he and daniel briefly terrorized a pub trivia night by sweeping every category every time they showed up until the owner gently requested they not come back since other patrons were tired of losing. he can't help that he's well read and his companion has a great wealth of knowledge on pop culture, okay?? mortals these days are such sore losers.

some guys are into shoes, some are into watches, we know from canon that he loves gloves and so he absolutely has a pair of bespoke leather gloves in every color for every occasion. driving gloves, white lambskin gloves for formal events, fur lined gloves for winter, he has multiple drawers in his closet for his collection. no i don't need smut with him doing obscene things to someone while wearing these gloves for kinktober why do you ask

i could go on but THERE YOU GO, i hope my niche and useless thoughts about him were entertaining at least 🥰

[likeabxrdinflight]

episodes five and six need to be talked about together, I think, because they're very much a two-parter.

so this contains...a lot. we've got "winter solstice", zuko's half of "the storm", "the blue spirit", and a very bizarre mish-mash of koh's part of "the siege of the north" with, of all things, the fog of lost souls from the legend of korra.

it's...we're getting major deviations from the animated version here. first and foremost, it's not the worst change in the world, but splitting the backstories from "the storm" and presenting them in entirely different contexts completely removes the parallels from aang and zuko in a way that...it doesn't butcher their arcs but I do still miss the original version. that episode was top tier and here it's just...average.

meanwhile roku has been completely butchered. there's no way around it. I want to say something positive but I really don't think I can. this is the "HARRY DID YOU PUT YOUR NAME IN THE GOBLET OF FIYAH" of avatar. bad choices all around here.

anyways, the plot is kind of...running away from itself, I think. the spirit world stuff was all recognizable, but they've made some changes that don't make a ton of sense. seeing wan shi tong was kinda cool, but also why? then koh shows up but he doesn't steal your face for making an expression anymore, he find them in the fog of lost souls and puts them in little cocoons to eat...whenever he feels like it? it's just a weird change, I guess. the entire purpose of this was to fridge katara and sokka to set up for "the blue spirit" which...sure, I guess they needed to raise the stakes a little higher than "my friends need frozen frogs" in this version.

of course katara and sokka both have visions in the spirit world while they're trapped in the fog of lost souls before koh captures them. katara's I know is her real memory because they show her mother's death and it's very close to the original version. sokka's...god I hope it's not a memory, but it probably is since katara's was. massive L for hakoda if so. not thrilled about that. at what point was hakoda ever disappointed in sokka? sokka always feared letting him down, but that wasn't because hakoda ever said anything so blatantly unkind- it's because the war left the weight of expectation on sokka's shoulders. his father left and he was the only "man" remaining. it had nothing to do with hakoda himself, just the impact of his absence.

it lacks subtlety. (also was the fox sokka saw yue? I feel like it was yue)

anyways this is ultimatley just the set up for aang needing to run to find roku at his temple, learn some shit that roku did to piss koh off and nothing at all about the comet (we knew that already tho), and then go try to correct it only to get captured by june who was hired by zuko and iroh but then actually no wait zhao comes takes him instead. this then lets "the blue spirit" play out as an almost one-to-one remake. which is fascinating because so little else has been preserved identically.

...arden cho was perfect as june btw. 10/10 casting.

interspersed with all this was zuko's backstory. and.......I knew they were gonna do this, I knew they were gonna have zuko fight back. there was too much indication in the trailers. and it just misses the damn point. the point is that he doesn't fight back, he refuses to fight his father out of loyalty and love, and ozai burns him for it. at the very least, ozai does still burn him intentionally, it is very clear that it was not an accident, and he still does it because zuko held back. but the impact is neutered a bit, the cruelty feels a little less. and there's no matching the mood of this shot:

(though azula doesn't smile evil-y in this version because she's just so EVIL so thank god for that)

focusing in on ozai does let daniel do some interesting things with his face in that scene, though. I know a lot of people are going to be upset that ozai isn't quite the same menacing, saturday-morning-cartoon villain he was in the original. but oh this guy is still a monster. "I burned and banished you because I love you" seems to be the vibe we're going for. I'm not against this at all, ozai's still a piece of shit, just a piece of shit who acts like a human being. the worst abusers justify their behavior as acts of love.

ummm what else. azula had a side plot in episode five and there is some fascinating stuff here. this adaptation is blowing up the golden child/scapegoat thing that the original had going on and honestly? kinda here for it. this azula is not secure in her position as ozai's favorite and she is gonna work her ass off to get that position if it fucking kills her.

...and we know how this ends for her. they're setting her up for her eventual fall. I think it's going to be much harder to watch this azula break. she looks so young, and they're showing her vulnerabilities so much sooner. the shots of her firebending late into the night while mai and ty lee sleep is so. sad??? and gyatso has a voiceover here that's just. someone please hug this child.

(also yeah aang gets to meet with gyatso in the spirit world and it is so so sad my heart T_T)

lots happened in these two episodes, some good, some bad, some just kinda strange. I also knew season one needed the most work when it came to adapting it into a serialized format but wow. they have really frankensteined this even more than I expected. it's...different. I still think it's worth watching though, but these two episodes didn't quite hit the highs of three and four.

[milflewis]

Pierre&Arthur and sth about Monaco or yachts

happy birthday bestie !! (threw in some background sebchal for you) hope you like it <3

“Pierre?”

“Hmm?” Pierre refuses to open his eyes, stretched out along one of the couches on the deck of Charles’ yacht. He arches his back a little, feeling it pop pop pop.

“When are you going to fuck me?”

It takes a second for the question to register but when it does, he sits up so quickly his head swims, black spots blurring the edges of his vision. Arthur is sitting on the floor a few feet away from him, lying back propped up on his elbows. Pierre tries to not stare at the wide sprawl of his legs, how his shorts rise up, the pale skin of his inner thigh obvious. Arthur is watching him, head titled, mouth red from the strawberries he was eating earlier, as if he didn’t just nearly give Pierre a heart attack five seconds ago.

“Um, what,” he asks, stalling for time, trying to half smile in an attempt to begin to laugh off whatever joke Arthur has come up with. Because it must be a joke. It must be.

Arthur just stares at him, unusually serious, and Pierre’s stomach goes cold. “When,” Arthur starts, “are you going to fuck me?”

Pierre blinks once, twice, and pulls at the hair on his thighs to see if he’s dreaming. He’s not.

“Um,” Pierre says, and somewhere Yuki is laughing at him but doesn’t know why, and he swallows, throat clicking.

Arthur raises an eyebrow, curls glowing light at the edges, hair long around his ears. There’s still slight pink marks along his jaw where he had been napping up until a few minutes ago, body loose and easy with sun warm sleep.

“Listen,” Pierre starts and then stop when he realises that actually he doesn’t know what to say here. Arthur keeps watching him, eyes blue and lashes long, mouth a little tight in the corners.

Pierre blinks. When are you going to fuck me, Arthur had said, like he had been expecting it, like he had been waiting for it, like he was desperate for it and couldn’t wait any longer.

Charles had given him a two litre thing of sunscreen yesterday, after they had eaten dinner and played cod with Lewis online. He burns very easily, Charles had shrugged, but he always forgets to put it on. He had rolled his eyes then, nose and cheeks pink with the sun. Pierre hadn’t said anything. Make sure he puts it on after swimming, yes, Charles had insisted. And any other, ah, activities where you, um, sweat. Pierre had just laughed, taking the bottle, a little confused but mostly fond of how Charles tries to take care of Arthur even when he can barely take care of himself. Charles had grinned at him, the skin on his shoulders peeling slightly.

When are you going to fuck me.

When.

Not if.

Yuki is probably choking on his laughter at this point. Arthur is very very still on the deck below him, fingers curled into the wood.

He could laugh it off, he knows, and part of him really really wants to. It’d be easier in a way, less complicated, if he does. But he would lose him. He would lose Arthur if he turns this into a joke, in a way where he never lost Alex or Daniel or Yuki. Arthur, with his Lorenzo and his Charles and his bone deep knowledge of how beloved he is and the solid uncertainty that comes with being a Leclerc, would walk away from Pierre and his shame if he tried to make it Arthur’s. If he tried to make it theirs.

I am surrounded by bravery, he thinks, not for the first time, and not for the last time, wishes some of it could rub off on him.

He thinks of Lewis, always always smiling at Valtteri and Valtteri who never fails to look right back, even when he’s looking up. He thinks of Seb, who grinned at him, years ago, when he caught him watching a sweaty champagne drenched Lewis a little too closely and just winked, and the way he stands still in a sport so fast and waits for Charles to catch up.

He looks at Arthur, at his bitten down fingernails and light blond hair dusting the tops of his feet and thinks, I want to be brave for you. I want to be brave for us.

Pierre leans back into the couch, legs slipping open, and watches Arthur breathe in deep, shuddering only slightly, as Pierre says, “I could do it now if you like.”

Arthur pauses for a second before getting to his feet, swaying with the boat, all long limbs and skin. He’s heavy and warm when he climbs into Pierre’s lap, knees either side of his hips. Pierre runs his fingers through the hair on Arthur’s thighs, dragging his nails a little, watching as his skin goosebumps.

“I like,” Arthur says, eyes bright and brilliant and unforgiving. Arthur is the youngest of three, grew up watching all the places where Charles would falter and fall. He is softer than Charles, more present in a way Charles will never be, but meaner. There is a harshness in him that Charles never allowed himself to have. Pierre worries for him less.

“But do you like me?” Arthur asks, eyes still bright, hands in Pierre’s hair, fingers running along his left ear.

Pierre is finding it a little hard to think properly, with Arthur Leclerc sitting on him, miles of warm skin and muscle under his hands.

“Yeah,” Pierre says, even though he kind of wants to run away and never look back. Even though he never wants Arthur to stop looking at him. “Yeah, I do.”

Arthur melts easily against him when Pierre tugs him in, pressing his mouth along Arthur’s jaw. He tastes of salt and sunscreen and Pierre groans as Arthur pulls him up by the hair to kiss him properly, sharp and insistent. He swipes a thumb over Arthur’s cheek, fingers curling along his jaw.

“Easy, easy,” Pierre murmurs, trying to slow them down, Arthur’s breaths coming in fast and fluttering.

“Easy,” Pierre says, licking into Arthur’s mouth, kissing him slow and deep. “I want you. We got all the time in the world, baby.”

[vividxp]

Liveblogging my second watch of IWTV Ep 5 because I need to process and get it all out

The opening scene with Louis feeding on Rashid. First off this was hot, not even going to sit here and lie to y’all. Rashid clearly enjoying the experience was just the cherry on top. But to be serious, I was team Rashid is Armand for the past week, because it seemed to add up and honestly from the descriptions of what book Armand looked like I could see the vision. Even Louis drinking from him didn’t blow up that theory for me as we know that vampires can feed off each other.

The only thing that’s giving me pause is mentions of eating honey and pineapple to make his blood taste good. First off that not only puts the Armand thing to question for me but Rashid being a vampire in general. I haven’t read all the books so I don’t know if I’m missing vampire lore that would explain this. But then again, look at Rashid’s reaction after the feeding compared to Damek. Damek, a seemingly bigger and buffer guy, could barely stay on his feet but Rashid was perfectly fine? Something is up, I continue to have a lot of questions about Rashid. 

Secondly, the notion that this is Louis’s way to commit suicide by making himself a target of other vampires. The description of vampires scaling the walls reminded me of a fic I read about Louis basically doing the interview as a cry for help and Lestat receiving the message. Rashid says he cares about Louis more than Louis cares about himself. What is this dynamic? It’s ridiculously intriguing.

Louis’s behavior towards Daniel was on the callous side. Daniel asked him to stay out of his head, twice, but he continued to push. Thinking about it some more it felt like a defensive manuever...like Louis purposely wanted Daniel to be mad at him or scared of him just in time for the next part of this story. Perhaps in an attempt to deflect from the obvious questions? 

Judging by the preview, it didn’t work and I’m glad. I am absolutely going to be here for episode 6 because I need answers. And I need them now. Let’s talk about this shit.

Back to the show, cut to Louis breaking the necks of the pigeons for Claudia to feed on....man, this scene really strikes a chord in me as I said in a previous post. 

Jacob Anderson mentioned that one of Louis’s struggles is that the violence is necessary, he needs the byproduct of the violence to thrive and he hates it. I can’t help but think about episode 3 when Lestat breaks the spine of the guy Louis picked. As we see, when he goes to Lestat playing piano in the next room, Louis is willing to do the same thing, kill a guy and leave him in her room. The depth of his concern for Claudia is overriding his previous moral hang-ups about killing. 

My other question on re-watch is how was this able to continue for so long? What did Claudia do with the pigeons? Did she eat them? Did she throw them away somehow? Is that why no one noticed the smell of dead people parts? 

The next scene is Louis and Lestat arguing about Lestat’s A+ Parenting skills. Louis’s comment that “she’s in there because of you” is pretty shocking to me. And I can understand why Lestat reacts like absolutely the fuck not. In fact, on first watch, I literally yelled ‘no, Louis, she’s “in there” because of YOU’. On second watch I practically did the same. 

I think Louis has to sit with the fact that he wanted a daughter, he wanted redemption for his act of murder that harmed his people in retaliation and he wasn’t thinking of the horrible consequences. 

We’re not even past 7 minutes into the episode and I already have paragraphs. I’m going to break this into parts because otherwise I fear it’s going to be too unwieldly.

[flowersarefreetherapy]

Hold On: Lost If You Left Me

CW: implied noncon, dehumanization, defiant whumpee, blood, beating

“Alright, so I have some basic rules I want to cover, starting with how you will address me.”

Eddie leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. Daniel stands across from him, clothing rumpled, face sticky from tears. A far cry from the Romantic he knows his new master wants. He’s not going to be poised and perfect, he’s going to be iron and blood and all the things they never wanted him to become. 

“I’m not into all that ‘master’ and ‘sir’ stuff,” Eddie says with a wave of his hand. “Kinda old fashioned and I don’t like that. The future’s in our hands and I’m not in the business of pulling back on progress.”

God, you just like to hear yourself talk, don’t you? Daniel gives into the urge to roll his eyes. Eddie freezes, slowly pushing himself to his feet. 

“However,” he says, and his voice drops. Ice cold fear slides into Daniel’s veins. “Just because I won’t take the title doesn’t mean I don’t deserve respect. And that is exactly what you’re going to give me. The second rule is always listen to whatever I tell you.”

“Listen to you?” Daniel scoffs. “Listen. To. You?” 

He takes a step forward, fists raised and ready. Eddie only laughs, pushing himself out the chair. Too late Daniel registers the award he holds in his hand. 

This is why you aren’t a Guard, you aren’t a hero, you’re nothing more than a stupid boy playing pretend. 

“This was given to me for my work in exposing a safe house,” Eddie explains, advancing a step. “Stupid young couple, thinking they could help creatures like you. Exposed the whole thing. WRU even interviewed me themselves.”

Daniel’s vision flashes white. Silver logo, three letters, something cold and sharp stabbing into his arm and he hears himself screaming. When he can fully breathe again, Eddie is on him. The trophy knocks into his legs, sending him crashing to the ground. Fingers in his hair again and dammit, he used to like this sensation!

“So I know all about what to do with little pets like you.”

“Not surprised you get off on pets,” Daniel snarls. “Considering that you are one.”

He screams before he is fully aware of what happened. Something warm slides down the side of his face, his vision blurring, black dots dancing around the edges. Then the pain hits him like a truck and he screams again. The base of the trophy comes into view, painted red with his blood. 

“I would think very carefully about your next choice of words,” Eddie snarls in his ear. “I will not be talked to in such a manner. Theodore may have given you more reign, but you are no longer in his house and as such, will do as I tell you.”

Daniel glares up at him through watering vision. The blood running down his face drips to the carpet. Eddie scoffs and shoves his head down. The movement sends a wave of nausea through Daniel’s body and he sucks in a deep breath to keep from being sick. 

“We’ll start with something easy. I want you to make me a drink, then I want you between my legs while I work.”

“How about I bite off anything you put in my mouth? Would that be starting easy enough for you?”

“So violent. No wonder Theodore was selling you on the cheap.”

“You’re the one who just hit me in the head. I don’t see how I’m the violent one here.”

Eddie raises the trophy and Daniel flinches. He doesn’t want to, and he curses himself for doing so, but he still flinches. Eddie laughs and lowers his arm.

“Get up.” 

The room spins around him, but Daniel manages to stay on his feet. He glares at Eddie, but can only hold it for so long. The man points to the kitchen and he willingly goes. 

He makes a drink. It’s the one thing he remains good at, even all these months later. Muscle memory takes over and he shakes and stirs and pours without thought. Almost freeing, in a way. Not having to think about what to do next, who to obey. Unfortunately, his mind is now given time to wander. 

And wander it does. All the way back to their last night together. Star’s hands and lips and body. More than that, his smile and the way he clung to Daniel as if he was his only hope. The moments they had together in the kitchen, dancing in the shadows at a gala, secret smiles with meanings only they understood.

What would it be like for this to be their normal? Not hidden, not controlled, free to live their own life, in their own home. No masters, no handlers, just the two of them. 

The kitchen swirls. Daniel grasps the edge of the counter with a gasp, fighting to keep himself upright. The drink tips, sending alcohol sloshing across the counter. A slew of curses fills his mind. He bites his tongue to keep them back and reaches for the paper towels. 

“Well, well, well, looks like I got a little defect.”

Damn it all to hell. Daniel rests his head on the edge of the counter, sucking in several deep breaths. I can’t do this. I can’t do this. 

No, you have to. For Star, you have to do this for him.

“Bent over already, aren’t you.” Eddie’s hands encircle his hips. Daniel tries to jerk away, but the man holds him tight, pulling him closer. 

His eyelids flutter. God, he’s so tired. All he wants to do is sleep. 

“Come on, Danny,” Eddie chuckles, his breath hot on the back of Daniel’s neck. “You like hearing that name, don’t you? Danny?”

“Please,” he whimpers. “Please-”

“Look at that. Look at that. Gone from a fighter to a little whimpering pet in just a few seconds. Where did all that glorious fight go?”

Daniel chokes on a sob as cold fingers slide his pants from his hips. The warm fabric folds around his ankles, followed by his underwear. He sucks in a deep breath as Eddie bites the crook of his neck hard enough to draw blood.

Please, please, please, please stop!

His hips knock against the edge of the counter. His whole lower body will be a mass of bruises in the morning. The pain tears his body apart. 

Later that night, lying on a strange bed, unfamiliar arms wrapped around him, Daniel stares into the darkness and his heart shatters. He presses his face into the pillowcase to muffle his sobs, but it can only do so much.

“Shh,” Eddie mutters, voice thick with sleep. “Shh, Danny, shh.”

He swallows back the next sob. Crying isn’t going to help anyone. Crying isn’t going to bring his love back to him. 

No, he needs something stronger than tears. 

Daniel fists his hands in the sheets. I’m going to kill you. I swear on my bond, I will kill you.

Tagging: @blood-is-compulsory @darkthingshappen @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump (let me know if you want to be added/removed!)

[sun-lit-roses]

The First Commandment

I’m not going to say I’m prepared for anything this time, because the last episode seemed to take that as a challenge.

Thank you for your comments, I’m learning a lot! The cute doctor has a name (Janet) and will be returning, which is the best news ever. Sam and Jack are apparently A Thing in the fandom, which is interesting and now I’m waiting to see why (???). And the idea of protocols for alien diseases and whatever else they might bring back from this collection of 6-digit planets is funny, which is alarming. On the bright side, I guess that means we’ll see lots of Janet!

Let’s see what season 1, episode 6 brings! The title is... ominous.

A spooky forest! How very Halloween-y.

Uh oh, they’re already in trouble.

Wait, these aren’t our heroes.

Oh no, he’s been shot! Hey, dude, your buddy’s gone!

Did... did he just leave an open gate back to Earth unattended? There HAS to be a rule about that.

Oh no, what are they gonna do with Frakes!

AH

RIP Frakes.

Hang on, why do those guys look like they’re wearing fatigues?

Okay, now it’s our people.

You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a sci-fi show where they actually put on sunscreen before. Very responsible, I dig it.

I buy the explanation that the Goa’uld had a thing for forests. Makes sense. (And it’s totally not at all because the easiest filming location was probably in a bunch of trees 😁 I like that they took the time to make an in-universe explanation for it, though. That’s fun!)

This must be the planet the one guy escaped from before. The only survivor of SG-9 it sounds like. What explanation did he give when he got back?

Huh, a world with no birds does sound odd.

Spinny vision!

OH no, is Daniel gonna get kidnapped again?

Yay, Jack to the rescue!

It’s someone from Earth!

Wait, he didn’t make it back through the gate?

Aw, buddy, I hate to tell you about Frakes.

Those other guys were in fatigues because they’re a part of SG-9! On the one hand, glad that their whole team wasn’t killed. On the other, oh boy, that’s a heap load of trouble.

It makes a lot of sense, though - every planet we’ve seen so far that SG-1 has visited, they start out thinking the team are gods. If you sent someone through who - hm, has a certain level of egotism or a need for that kind of worship, then it would absolutely be a temptation. I bet when we find this Hanson, he’ll make excuses, like ‘compared to them we are gods, we’re so much more advanced’ and ‘they’re better off’ and ‘they asked us to be their gods’ and a whole lot of other mental gymnastics he’s gone through to excuse his need to be a dictator.

Sorry, got distracted from the episode. Let’s tune back in to Sam refusing a direct order. This’ll go well.

That was a very pointed ‘Captain’ lol

‘Gave back the ring’???? Oooo the plot thickens. Also, she gave back the ring ‘because she knows him.’ That doesn’t sound great. What kind of guy did they put on SG-9? Well, the kind who’s down with fancying himself a god, I guess that question answers itself.

Also, I’m with Jack here. Do you really want to add that sort of emotional involvement to an already complicated situation?

Insubordination is spreading rapidly 😂

‘Does it say colonel anywhere on my uniform?’

No one wants to go home!

Oh good, so we’ve got one person on the retrieval team who used to be romantically involved with the guy and another person who wants revenge on the guy because his friend was killed. This is such a good idea. Fun party, guys!

I genuinely feel bad for Jack leading this mess. Also, bit surprised he isn’t threatening charges to get them to follow orders back through the gate.

‘We’re not on Earth.’ 😁

Why do I feel like the evil radiation is going to be a plot point?

Hey, it’s Evil Dude!

Well Evil Dude’s Minion. Now Evil Dude.

How big are the other SG teams? If they’re all four people, then there’s just the two of them playing god, right? Because Frakes was murdered and Conner escaped. Hansen sounds like he was already a bit off, what’s this fourth guy’s deal?

Would it really be a scifi military-type show if no one complained about the food? 😂 That said, chicken mac and cheese sounds like an interesting experience.

Why does their perimeter alert sound like a car alarm.

Yep, from Connor’s tale it sounds like Hanson started down the slippery slope early - ‘it’ll be safer if we don’t correct them.’

The sun and radiation got to him! Hopefully our group has enough sunblock. I don’t want a rehash of the Rage People with everyone going off the deep end. Let’s save that for the second season.

Oof that’s an escalation right there, ordering the death of the ones who disagree with you.

Also, kind of concerning that Connor is debating the way he wants to die. Man’s been through a lot, he should definitely be getting some counseling.

Evil Dude time!

Has he got them mining something? Or building something?

Is Daniel using a sock as a sleep mask? 😂

They’re doing better with dark vision than the last episode.

Man, I still want a fire stick.

Were they scared off already? Wait, they took Connor!

They’re building a template, sure, that’s very - religious.

Again, why’s this other guy going along with things? Afraid of Hanson turning on him could be a reason, I guess.

‘A soft spot for the lunatic fringe.’ Well, that explains why she’s with the team.

‘He liked control. He had this in him. I’m not surprised’ There are just red flags all over for that relationship. 

Also, loved Daniel talking about how soldiers are crazy and looking back at Jack. Get a little roast in there on your eavesdropping buddy 😂

No, being staked in the sun, just what Connor was afraid of!!

Where’s Jack going?

‘Need help getting in the front door.’ Is Sam going to get to blow something up?? YES

Aw no, she has to flirt with the homicidal maniac, that’s less fun.

I am unsurprised that she isn’t waiting when there’s someone being hurt.

‘We should have stopped her.’ “We would have failed.’ Teal’c is unsurprised as well.

Yeah, Sam! Give him what for!

Jack is unhappy, but also unsurprised. Yeah, everyone pretty much has her number by now. 😂

Time to face the Evil Dude. Dun dun dun....

Yep, thinks he’s saving them, as expected.

‘It’s a matter of definition.’ Oh yeah, he’s deep into Delusionville.

Is that local guy trying to escape? You can do it!

‘Healer of the emotionally wounded.’ Even this guy is unsurprised she showed up - although I don’t think he understands why as well as he thinks he does.

Sam’s got a gun!

Come on, shoot him. Just a little.

Dang it, Sam.

Great, now we have to listen to him talk about how powerful he is.

Okay, I need to pause so I can appreciate Teal’c’s attempt to ‘look friendly.’ 🤣 Yeah, he should really work on that.

Time for a little de-brainwashing session.

‘The sky. Up there.’ I like this kid.

Turning the sky orange? Some sort of protection against the radiation?

Evil Dude time again.

Is he just mixing a bunch of biblical stories together? Why do Evil Dudes always pick that book to get fixated on?

There is a device!

Ooo I’m getting the feeling that I know why he was waiting for Sam to show up. Weird alien devices aren’t his area of expertise - but they are hers.

Actually, since the Prime Directive isn’t a thing, I guess there’s no real reason she couldn’t set it up. Except that it might make the locals think that Jonas really is a god, which wouldn’t be great.

Yep, that’s essentially what he just spelled out. Except that he also wants her to be his ‘goddess.’ Ick.

Huh, well, needing two will put a crimp in Evil Dude’s plan. Time for the team to divide and conquer! Hopefully!

Is Teal’c gonna use the fire stick?!?!

YESSS

I WANT ONE

Although how did it blow out a perfect circle? Nevermind, don’t underestimate the might of the fire stick.

Did no one notice Jack taking that guy out? He rolled down the cliff pretty dramatically.

OH NO Guess someone noticed. And they were on their way out.

Jack can’t help but snark even when he’s been captured. I appreciate that.

Ooo Jack’s laying a guilt trip on Sam there. I mean, she did run off on her own. Kinda valid here.

Can we just appreciate that it took Sam basically no time to figure out how to turn on an alien device that she’d never seen before? #we love a genius

What have they done to the Stargate?

Uh oh, burying it is not good news.

At least Jack and Connor get to go back.

Or maybe not. He’s going to kill them with the Stargate iris!

AND they have to listen to him go on about how great he is. That’s almost worse.

Yay! Team to the rescue! And the kid gets to use the fire stick. That’s probably fair considering what’s been done to his people.

Did Jonas just hit Sam?! Shoot him with the fire stick, kid.

Time to prove that Evil Dude is evil!

The sky up there really is very orange.

He’s gonna kill Sam!

Way to go, Jack! Definitely winning points against the ‘is he just a jerk’ poll. Also, it’s been Jack to the rescue a lot this episode. I hope he gets a few days off after this.

On the one hand, it’s hard to argue with the angry mob. On the other, watching your former fiance die would be hard in any circumstance.

I think they’re starting to consider the principles of the prime directive on their own: should they come back? have they done enough, too much, already?

See I like this little bonding moment a lot better than the tank top quip. Not sure I see a ship yet, but maybe the beginnings of a friendship. Jack can be okay when he’s not being a creep!

(Though I still think she could have shot Jonas just a little.)

‘There’s so much more outside the cave.’ Was this all a giant Plato’s Cave allegory??

So what’s everyone’s bets on how long before those people are going to get curious about how the Stargate works and start experimenting?

Rating:🔘🔘🔘🔘

4/5 Gates This was a good time! New planet (woot!), interesting dilemma, got to see some fire stick action, everyone survived (except the evil dudes), what more could I ask for? I’m tempted to give it a five, but I don’t have enough of a frame of reference. That said, this might be my favorite one so far!

[motownfiction]

pants and pie

When they get to the mall, Will and Sam won’t shut up about going to get pretzels. Daniel tells them to calm down and shut up, which pisses them off. He only feels a little bit remorseful about it.

“What else is so important here?” Sam asks. “Do you need pants or something?”

“I hate it when my mom takes me here to buy pants,” Will says. “She always says, ‘Hey, Will, let’s go get a slice of pie.’ And we do, but before we go, she makes me try on pants. It’s the worst.”

“Your mom makes you try on pants after you eat pie?”

“Yeah. It’s probably why trying them on sucks so bad.”

“Would you guys shut up about pants and pie?” Daniel says. “It’s like you only know how to think about the dumbest shit.”

Sam frowns and takes a step forward. He puts a gentle hand on Daniel’s shoulder, and for a second, he seems so much like Sadie. Sadie. Daniel can’t think about her right now and maybe never again. Not after Melissa Kaminski. Not after last night.

“Hey, man, are you OK?” Sam asks. “You don’t seem like … you.”

Daniel rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m just like that time Captain Kirk got split into his good half and his bad half. That’s what you were gonna say, isn’t it? Something dumb and dorky like that?”

“Actually, I don’t know anything about Star Trek, so if that’s a fitting reference, that’s on you,” Sam says. “I’m just … there’s something wrong, and I think we’d all be a lot better off if we knew what it was.”

Sam turns to look at Will, who nods once in tacit agreement. Daniel rolls his eyes again.

“I’ll tell you what’s wrong,” Daniel says. “What’s wrong is that the two of you refuse to act your age. We’ve been in high school for almost a full school year, and you still come to my house on Saturday mornings, wanting to play Star Wars.”

“But we like Star Wars,” Sam says. “Remember at the start of seventh grade when we pretended like we didn’t? It was miserable! And if we’d kept it up for even a little while longer, we would have missed The Empire Strikes Back. I don’t want to live in a world where the three of us didn’t go and see The Empire Strikes Back!”

“He’s got a point,” Will chimes in. “It was fun.”

“Seeing a movie is one thing,” Daniel says. “It’s that the two of you wake up on Saturday mornings and go to the toy store. That’s the problem here. Normal guys in high school don’t spend this much time at the toy store.”

“Where the hell is this coming from?” Will asks. “You usually come with us.”

“Yeah, last week, you would never have suggested going to the mall,” Sam says. “I still don’t even know what we’re doing here.”

Daniel’s entire field of vision turns bright red.

“We’re learning how to be normal!” he says. “I don’t know why I got there faster than the two of you. Maybe it’s because I’m the oldest.”

“You’re three days older than me, and you’re nine days older than Will,” Sam says. “I call bullshit. There’s something else.”

“Three days, nine days, however many days, I’m still the oldest. I’m tired of not being normal. I want to be normal. I want to hang out at the mall on Saturdays and look for girls, same as any other guys our age.”

“But we’re not like other guys our age,” Sam says. “We’re us! And what girls would we even be looking for? Will won’t look at anybody who’s not Lucy, I’ve been going out with Steph all year, and if I’m not mistaken, you had a date last night with Melissa Kaminski.”

When Sam says the name Melissa Kaminski, Daniel feels like all the air has been punched out of his lungs. He doesn’t feel like a person anymore. Just skin. Just bones. He knows he must look like a husk of himself, judging by the confused expression on Sam’s face. Daniel looks past Sam and toward Will, who looks like he already understands.

“What’s going on?” Sam asks. “Did you have a bad date? Did Melissa say something bad about you? Or about the three of us?”

Daniel shakes his head.

“Are you gonna go out with her again?”

Daniel shakes his head a second time.

“I think Melissa Kaminski got what she needed from me,” he says.

Sam scrunches up his face in thought, but Will looks like he already knows. Daniel takes a step back, anticipating Sam’s reaction half a second before it clicks.

“OH!” he says, drawing looks from around the mall. “Are you … did you …?”

This time, Daniel nods.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” he says. “But yeah.”

“Holy shit,” Sam says. “Holy fucking shit.”

Will snorts, moving closer into the conversation.

“I’ll say,” he says. “You’re too young.”

Sam smacks Will across the chest. Will, ever the beanpole, winces.

“Will!” Sam hisses. “You don’t get to say that.”

“Why? It’s true.”

“You don’t know that! We’ve never been any older than this. Everybody’s different.”

“Yeah, but I’m not sure anybody should be in ninth grade. If you can’t stay home alone for five minutes when your age is still in single digits, then I’m not sure you should be doing that when your grade is still in single digits, too.”

“Stop saying digits,” Daniel says. It’s the first real thought that’s come into his head for a while now. Probably forty-five seconds.

“Why?”

“I don’t know. It sounds weird.”

“Holy shit,” Sam says again. “Holy fucking shit.”

“And you stop saying that,” Daniel says. “It’s over. It’s done. We all need to grow up and move on.”

“It’s not over,” Will says.

“Of course it’s over,” Daniel says. “If it weren’t, do you think I’d be standing here with you right now?”

“That’s not … that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“I mean it’s a big deal, man. You don’t get to come back from that the same.”

Daniel wants to grab Will, shake him, and tell him that he knows. But he can’t do that. He won’t. He wants to be a normal guy, and part of being a normal guy is playing it cool. Will has never been good at playing it cool. But Daniel can be.

“It’s not a big deal,” Daniel lies. “It just happened. It happened, and it’s over.”

“Well, are you gonna do it again?” Will asks.

“Dunno. Probably, at some point in my life.”

“Holy shit,” Sam says, staring at the floor between his hands. “Holy fucking shit.”

“I thought I told you to stop saying that,” Daniel says.

“I don’t know what else to say!”

“Well, think of something! You shouldn’t even be shocked. It’s weird you haven’t come to us with the same story. Out of all three of us, you’re the only one who actually has a real girlfriend, aren’t you?”

“Sure, but …”

“But what?”

“But we’re fifteen, Daniel! I always thought … I dunno, I always thought we’d all be older than fifteen.”

Daniel sighs and buries his face in his hands.

“I don’t believe this,” he mutters. “Five minutes ago, you weren’t judging me. Now you’re judging me. I don’t believe this.”

“I’m not judging you!” Sam says. “I just … I’m not there. If you are, then … then you are. But me … me and Steph … we’re not there.”

“I’m not there, either,” Will says, stepping back with his hands in surrender.

“No shit you’re not there,” Daniel snaps. “At least Sam’s kissed a girl before. You’re still making out with your pillow.”

Will turns beet red and takes another step backward. Daniel sighs.

“Hey, man, I didn’t mean it,” he says. “It’s OK that you’re not there. It’s OK that both of you … that neither of you are.”

Will and Sam look at him with such relief in their eyes. Daniel only wishes he felt the same way about himself. He waits for them to say that it’s OK for him to be where he is, for last night to have happened, for these memories to be playing in his head. But they never say it. Years from now, Daniel will realize they don’t know how. They’re fifteen, and they don’t know how. Not so deep down, Will and Sam are still thinking about pretzels, pants, and pie. And right now, in the middle of the mall, Daniel wishes he could join them.

They sit wordlessly around the fountain for a long time. Finally, Sam’s the one to break the silence.

“So, are we still supposed to be looking for girls?”

Daniel sighs.

“Wish I knew,” he says. “I wish I knew.”

[monstermaster13]

TftW: A Hero For Weirdos Everywhere.

NOTE:

This is an origin story to Dan the Were-Aykroyd and how he became who he is, this story uses a horror anthology aspect to it to help get in the right mood. Featuring Dan Aykroyd as the title character and as himself.

Man lives in the sunlit world of what he believes to be reality, but there is unseen by most an underworld, a place that is just as real but not as brightly lit…a dark side. And with this dark side come morals we have to learn and we are about to learn that for ourselves, meet Daniel…or Dan, Dan was obsessed with horror movies and monsters, especially ones that could transform people, his dream was to be able to transform and he loved werecreature lore in particular, he often believed his co-workers had powers as well.

He worked at the Mystic Museum in Burbank, specifically as a character actor playing the part of a video store clerk, he had experience as a character actor because he had worked at Universal prior and was a big hit with the parkgoers for his upbeat personality, he was viewed as somewhat strange and unusual because of his interest and some even viewed him as crazy for believing monsters were real. But he knew for sure they were real, every night when he slept he heard voices speaking to him in his mind, one voice being that of his idol Dan Aykroyd. He loved Dan for embracing his weird side and he approved of it, he spent a great deal of time writing a screenplay for a project he was working on.

One evening he was sorting out the videos including the slasher movies when someone came up to him. 'Is it true you really did hear Aykroyd's voice in your head?' 'Yes, yes I do…' 'How?' 'I just do, I think it's telepathy.' Thomas Sheppard smirked and laughed at him…'You're telling me you believe in this stuff?' 'Oh yes, I do. Got a problem with that?' 'Why yes, you're a freak.' 'Being a freak is not something that should be condemnable.' 'To me it is.' 'Thomas, you are going to get it one of these days.'

"Really? Are you going to go all Carrie on me?"

"You are going to wish you never came here."

Thomas thought nothing of this…he lived to put people who were different down, but Dan looked over at him for a bit, he reached for him and grabbed by the shoulder…and suddenly as if he had been given super-strength, he threw Thomas onto the ground. 'Okay okay i'm sorry, hey…wait a minute, you weren't super strong before.' 'I don't know how I did it but…I did it, oh well…let this be a lesson to you.'

The overly confident athlete ran off, exiting the attraction and leaving him alone. 'How did you do that? Was that one of your special effects?' 'I don't think so, I don't believe getting superhuman strength was part of the sfx package.' He shrugged before going for a bit of a walk, and he then adjusted his uniform's badge in the mirror, and as he did something unusual happened.

His reflection shapeshifted in appearance, taking on the appearance of Dan Aykroyd himself only with long hair and an outfit resembling a cosplay of Bob from Twin Peaks. 'We sure taught Thomas a lesson, you should have seen him.' 'Hang on a minute, is my reflection talking to me?' 'I sure am, anyway…hi, i'm your inner Aykroyd. I know it may be hard to believe, but I am going to be your personal spirit guide. And to do this I am going to tell you that you are going to be one with me.'

"So are these what my powers are for?"

"Oh yes, you are going to be the hero this city needs."

'Me? A hero? Well the weirdos in this world need someone to protect them and that person will be mine.' 'That's what I like to hear.' Dan's inner 'Aykroyd' that served as his reflection, reached out for him and gave him some more of his attributes and powers, which of course resulted in his DNA altering, giving him paranormal attributes. 'You've heard of a parasocial relationship with your idol, how about a para-NORMAL relationship?'

A couple of hours later he started having visions, visions of turning into Dan Aykroyd in numerous ways, visions that included homages to David Lynch and David Cronenberg, and one such dream even had him looking in the mirror and seeing he had the same eyes as Aykroyd's character from Neighbors only as a Thriller homage too. He never understood why some people were afraid of the video when it came out, he also chuckled since he remembered being partially afraid of that video but now he loved it.

He remembered people having the same reaction to the Lou Reed music video 'No Money Down' in which a statue of Lou peeled its skin off to reveal a robot underneath, he understood that the reason Lou made this choice was because Lou didn't like music videos or having to be in one. He remembered how the song 'The Worms Crawl In' was creepy since it was essentially about what happens to your body when you die, or specifically if you choose to get buried, yet it was often labeled as a 'kids song'. 'Oh well, there's no wrong age to get into horror I suppose.'

An hour later he noticed something unusual when he looked in the mirror, he saw what appeared to be brown hairs growing on his arms, and he opened his shirt up a bit to reveal the same hairs growing on there as well, he noticed his arms and hands were broadening with a few crunching sounds which was always a bit disconcerting, his stomach also broadened a little as and he noticed that he was growing a bit taller, specifically to 6'1. He had a dream about this prior and he did understand how that went.

Dreams seldom make sense and there is a reason for it, sometimes…those dreams are real, he remembered reading a bunch of transformation tales and being upset by the loss of identity part of it, he thought it didn't make sense. He felt his rear for a little and blushed..he knew there were some people that had a thing for plus sized characters and he could use this to his advantage as his back broadened and his feet shifted in size, also two of the toes fused on each foot on the knuckle making him look like had webbed toes, an unique feature for sure.

His shoulders broadened a little bit as his hair darkened and his eyebrows thickened, his eyes widened, one turning from brown to green as the other remained brown and his features contorted taking on an Aykroydian appearance, his nose broadening as a cleft materialized in the middle of it, his voice shifted a bit…giving him a deeper voice and also eventually giving him Aykroyd’s voice and that is when he decided that if anyone is going to keep the strange and weird people of the world from being targeted it would be him.

When his transformation was completed, he was his new self…and he dubbed himself, Dan…the Were-Aykroyd, also known as the Aykroydian Knight, defender of the strange and unusual. He saw Thomas walking down the street and decided to get his own back on him by taking on a spectral form and entering his house before possessing him by going down his throat and turning him into a Were-Aykroyd like him.

After that he decided to leave Thomas’s body but Thomas remained as a were-aykroyd after that, but our hero’s work was not yet done. ‘You must find someone to share a body with and to protect.’ ‘I know who my choice is.’ Ae looked through the virtual database until he found someone named Monstermaster13 who was a Dan Aykroyd fan. ‘Perfect, he’s the one.’

And so with that, he used his powers to teleport himself over to where Nathan lived and used some of his abilities to communicate with him through telepathy and also through dreams and visions, these dreams and visions would lead to Nathan getting hooked on Dan Aykroyd and getting into the idea of wanting to do tfs into him, and the rest is history.

[xprojectrpg]

Moment of Awesome - Daniel Lone Eagle/Forge:

Following a series of flashbacks at Halloween, Forge gets a house call from one of the resident witches and reacts by trying to shoot her.

"Someone must have slipped me something." he said, still taking hefty swallows of his coffee and heedless of the temperature of the liquid. "But before we get too much deeper into this, I'm gonna need you to prove to me you're not a demon." he said, his free hand inching towards his Sat Night Special. "On the off chance that someone didn't slip me something and the shit I was seeing was real."

"What would prove that I'm not?" she asked, turning to face him. "I can say I'm not, but I s'pose that's what a demon would say."

"Demons I know can't abide anything pure." he noted, taking another gulp of coffee and being almost down to the dregs. "They corrupt and despoil. Christian demons can't abide symbols of faith." he said. "So guess it depends on what you believe. I'd hate to accidentally shoot someone that's not a demon but I don't play on that side of the street."

His migraine, which had been fading, surged to the fore and Forge grunted as his stomach soured and his vision blurred.

Shoot? Amanda mentally kicked herself as she realised Forge was armed. She'd figured with the mansion's rules about weapons being locked up in personal gun safes when on site would have covered that, but of course a paranoid former Army bloke would be packing. She held out her hands, all the while mentally preparing a spell. Good thing she'd recharged recently. "Hey, I'm not exactly pure, but I'm not demonic, promise. I'm one of the good guys. I fight demons - that's why I'm here. To help you with the Adversary."

And that was the final straw. The Adversary was the enemy of his people. They were the watchers at the gate, the protectors of the People. And this colonizer was going to tell him how they should deal with his corrupt evil? Nope. Last straw. Out came the gun, but his eyesight was absolute shit due to the pounding in his head and, in his pain and grogginess, he'd neglected to make sure said gun was _loaded_ before he pulled the trigger.

Click.

Followed by a double thump - one organic, one not - as his knees hit the floor and his stomach rebelled. He kept his coffee down but it was a near thing indeed. Then a softer thump as the gun hit the ground as well.

Amanda watched from the safety of her shielding spell as Forge went down. She'd figured her words would spark a reaction of some sort, so she'd had the spell ready as soon as she stopped speaking. Now she dismissed it and moved towards Forge, kicking the gun away from his reach and putting a supporting arm around his shoulders. If he threw her off, fine, but she wasn't about to let him fall face first on the floor.

"Sorry about that," she said quietly as she patted his back. "You need help, Forge. Magical help. If you let me, I can help you with it."

Her touch felt strange to him - sparkly, almost like asphalt and concrete and glass. He managed to get to his feet mostly by using his good leg to do most of the work then getting the artificial one locked out to support him. "I do not need magical help." he growled. "What do you think you're going to do, bippity boppity the horrors away?"

[sweetyyhippyy]

Teaching the Genius. Spencer Reid X Female Reader.

(Not my gif)

Summary: After her friends make fun of Spencer at a party, she takes him back to her apartment.

Word Count: 4k

TW: Mean girls being mean. Nervous touching. Making out. Virgin! Spencer. Semi experienced reader. Oral sex (male and female receiving.). Mention of a safe word (not used). Swallowing. Fingering. Penetrative sex.

A.N.: So we all know Spencer went to college as a young teenager. But I’m picturing Spencer as a 19/20 year old here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Is he serious?” Her friend, Megan laughs with the other people standing inside of the house. “Who even invited him?”

She turns to look around to see who she was talking about, but with the sea of people around, she really couldn’t see who she was talking about.

“Who wears a sweater vest to a party?” Megan laughs.

She spots the lanky smart kid from her psychology class that sits directly behind her, sitting in a chair with a water bottle in his hand and looking up at everyone that passed by him.

“Oh, Spencer.” She says to the rest of the group.

“How do you know his name?” Daniel asks.

“We had a group project for the class we have together. He’s really nice.”

“Yeah, okay.” The bitchy girl scoffs. “Who would want him here? He’s not exactly the life of the party.”

She rolled her eyes at her friend and sipped on her drink, turning to look back at Spencer.

His fingers twittled with each other as he continued to look around the crowd of people, almost like he was looking for someone in particular.

“Hey, we’re talking to you.” A hand waving in front of her line of vision.

“What?” She snaps out of it, looking at her group of friends.

“Are you going to stand there and stare at the dweeb all night or are you going to be fun?”

“Why are you such a bitch?” She asks, glaring at her. “The poor kid has never done anything to you and you’ve done nothing but insult him since you spotted him.”

“Why are you playing superhero for the dork? Why don’t you go sit with him since you feel bad for him.”

“I will.” She says, turning away from them and walking away. She walks up to Spencer with a smile, taking a seat next to him. “Hi!” She smiles.

He turns his head quickly to her, his eyes growing wide and quickly traveling down to her chest then back up to her face. “H-hey. You’re in my psychology class. I stare at the back of your head a lot. Well, not a lot! I don’t stare! I-I’m not creepy! It’s just… hi.” He clears his throat, making a flat, awkward smile at her.

She laughs and smiles at him. “You know, I’ve been to a lot of parties and I’ve never seen you at one. I didn’t peg you for the party boy type.”

He huffs a laugh and plays with the sticker around his water bottle. “I’m here waiting for someone.”

“Really? Aww, who?”

“Her name is Serenity Richardson.”

She knew exactly who he was talking about. That’s when everything made sense in her mind. It was a joke on Spencer. Serenity was Megan’s roommate and now she could remember hearing the two of them one night talking about playing a prank on “the giant dork”.

He was the giant dork…

“Oh… Serenity.” She clears her throat. “Spencer I don’t…”

“You know my name?” He blurts out.

“Y-yeah! We did a project together. Why would I not remember your name?”

“Because I’m not one of your friends.” He says, pointing to the group she was just with.

“Oh, they’re not exactly my friends. They’re kind of jerks. Actually… they’re big jerks. Which is why I gotta tell you about Serenity.”

“I know she’s not coming.”

She looks over at him with sadness written on her face. “You do?”

“Yeah. I could hear someone behind me whisper to their friend that they couldn’t wait to see the look on my face when I realized it was a ruse.”

“It’s really shitty, I’m sorry.”

He shrugs his shoulders at her. “It’s not the worst thing anyone has done to me.”

“You know what,” She starts, putting her cup on the table behind her and standing up. “Let’s go.”

“Go? Go where?” He asks.

“I’m starving and they don’t have actual food here. Let’s go get something to eat.”

“Really?”

“Yes! Come on.” She says, holding her hand out for him.

He smiles at her and stands up, not taking her hand. “I-I got a germ… thing.”

“Right. Well follow me.” She says with a smile, leading him out of the house party.

***

“It’s crazy to think you’ve been in college for 5 years. Like when did you ever have time to be a teen?”

He shrugs and smiles a little. “I really didn’t. The other kids teased me and made fun of me. I didn’t really have a lot of friends. Didn’t go on dates. In fact the girls at school were pretty mean to me too.”

“I’m sorry.” She says, taking his empty plate from him to put it in her sink. “But after those people see you win the Nobel Prize for something like math, they’ll be sorry.” She sits back down on her couch next to him, handing him another glass of water.

“Fields Medal.”

“Hmm?”

“There’s no Nobel Prize for math. I would win the Fields Medal.”

She laughs and puts her hand on his knee. “Oh I’m so sorry! Your smart person award!”

He laughs with her, taking notice to her hand.  “You have a really pretty laugh and smile.”

She can feel her cheeks get warm at his compliment; another smile creeping onto her face. “Thank you.” She hesitates to ask her question, but her mouth worked faster than her brain to stop her. “Can I ask you a question? Kind of a personal one.”

“Sure.”

“So you said you never went on dates and stuff… so does that mean you’ve never kissed anyone?”

“Well… no.”

“D-do you want to kiss me?” She asks nervously.

“Really?”

She nods her head, biting her lip anxiously. “Only if you want to.”

“Yes! Yes I want to! That made me sound desperate.” He mumbles. “But I do want to.”

“You can.” She says, getting closer to him.

“I-I don’t know what to do.” He confesses, looking nervous.

“Just…” She scoots over closer to him. “Come closer and press your lips on mine and then you can just follow my lead.”

He keeps his hands on his lap, his head inching closer to her until he finally presses his lips against hers softly and immediately pulls back.

“Okay, good. Do you want to do that again but maybe longer?”

He nods his head quickly and comes back to her face.

“Okay, lemme see your hands.” She says, putting both of his hands on her hips. “I’m going to take control and you follow, okay?” She waits for the head nod and pulls him in for another kiss, her fingers tangled up in his flat hair as she makes out with him.

Spencer couldn’t believe she was kissing him on her couch. In the 5 years he had been here, nobody was ever actually interested in him and now she was.

His hand travels up her hip and immediately goes back down, too nervous to make a move.

“What happened?” She asks.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head.

“I know nothing happened. Why did nothing happen? You were going to.”

“I-I got nervous.”

She smiles sweetly at him. “What were you trying to touch?”

“Your… um…” He points to his own chest.

“Boobs. You can say boobs, Spencer. It’s okay. Do you want to see them?” She laughs, but not condescendingly.

He nervously looks at her eyes and then looks down at her cleavage, then back up at her. “Ye-yes.”

She strips her shirt off and puts it on Spencer’s lap. She reaches around and unclasps her bra, slipping her arms through the straps and also putting the garment on his lap.

Spencer couldn’t help but stare at her boobs, he had seen boobs on porn videos and magazines but never up close. He could feel his cock start to fill with blood and he knew she would notice his erection.

“You can touch them.” She takes his hand and puts it on the mound.

Spencer starts to lightly knead it in his hand, careful not to squeeze it too tightly.

“Good.” She compliments, flashing him a smile.

He ghosts his fingertips over her nipple a few times until it grew hard.

She lightly moans next to him as he continues to play, making him move his hand away and fear spread across his face.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

“No! No, sweetheart you didn’t hurt me. It just felt good. I would tell you if you hurt me. I have another question, do you want me to take care of the problem in your pants?”

He looks down to see the crotch of his pants were sporting a whole tent. “Oh. You-you don’t have to if you don’t want to! I know how to take care of it.” He speaks quickly.

“Do you want me to? I think someone else taking care of your problem for the first time might be fun.”

His mind was pure mush at this point. Of course he wanted her to, but he knew all she would have to do was look at it and he was going to explode.

“How about this; we can start kissing again and my hands will just kind of explore. And if you want me to stop you let me know, okay?”

“Okay.” He breathes out.  

She brings him in for another kiss, her hand already feeling around and rubbing against his erection.

He moans into her mouth as he feels the contact, his hands going back to her bare hips and feeling her warm skin.

She unzips his slacks and tries to pull them down, but with their position on the couch it wasn’t happening. “Why don’t we go over to the bed. It’s more comfortable.”

He nods his head and stands up, helping her off the couch.

“But first, clothes off.” She says, standing in front of him.

“Oh, right.” Spencer sheds his sweater vest off and nicely puts it on the floor. His slender fingers begin to work on the buttons but with his nerves, his hands fumbled with them.

“Hey,” She takes his shaky hands and holds them in hers. “If you don’t want to do this you don’t have to. I just thought, well I’ve thought this since we did our project together a few months ago, that you’re really cute and nice and maybe we could try to do the college thing and experiment.”

“You think I’m cute?”

She lets out a little laugh and nods her head. “Yes. Is that so unbelievable or something?”

“Yeah, kind of. Nobody has ever thought I was cute.”

“Well they’re dumb.” She says softly, stretching up to kiss him again.

Spencer instinctively puts his hands around her waist and presses her body against his. He can feel her fingers working on the buttons of his shirt, his heart pounding faster and harder.  

She slides the fabric off his shoulders and lets it fall down to the floor. “Pants off.”

Spencer’s face flushes as he unbuttons his pants and steps out of the dark brown pants, leaving him in his underwear.

“On my bed.” She says, kissing his bare chest.

He backs up until his thighs hit her mattress, sitting on the soft pillow top. Spencer watches as she gets into her knees between his legs, a nervous smile on her face as she looks up at him. “Can I ask you a question? Have you done this before?”

“Mmm, kinda.”

“What do you mean kind of?”

She sighs and looks away from him. “I had a boyfriend in high school and we tried having sex but he lasted about 12 seconds. No foreplay or anything. Just plain sex so it wasn’t enjoyable.”

“So you’ve never done oral sex or had it done to you?”

“No, but I’ve watched a lot of porn.” She laughs nervously. “And read books.”

“You want me to be the first one you do this with? Not with someone more memorable or experienced?”

“What if you are memorable? And I don’t care about your experience, well lack of.” She fishes his cock from his underwear and pulls it out, butterflies filling her stomach. “Wow.” She laughs.

“Wow? What wow?”

“Nothing bad! You’re just kinda bigger than I thought.” She looks up to see Spencer smiling and slightly blushing. “Can I?”

He nods his head, his eyes fixed on her as she sits up a little bit on her knees and lets a bead of spit roll down his cock. “Oh… my god.” He grumbles, his knuckles white as he grips the sheets under him.

“Tell me if you want me to stop. Say ‘mango’.”

“Mango? Why mango?”

She licks up his cock with a flat tongue and all in one motion she takes him into her mouth.

“W-wow.” Spencer’s mouth was parted as he focused on her. His hand reached out timidly to touch her cheek softly as her head began to go up and down along his shaft.

As he made contact with her cheek she looked up at him to gauge how she was doing, and judging by how flushed his face was: she was passing with flying colors.

“You are really good a-at that.”

She moans in response against him, making his whole body tense up. She adds her hand into play, stroking him just as fast as she was sucking him off.

Little whines started leaving Spencer’s mouth as he felt her mouth spending more time at the tip and her tongue swiping against it.

He had done research about sex with a woman and what to do and how it was from a male point of view, but he didn’t know how good it was actually going to feel.

“I feel like I’m going to cum.” He huffs out.

She removes her mouth, her hand continuing to stroke him. “Do you want me to stop?”

“I didn’t say mango.” He pants through his response.

“Oh, look at you, Mr. Confident.” She teases. She circles her tongue around the head of his cock three times before taking him back in.

As much as Spencer enjoyed feeling her mouth around him, he was having an internal battle with himself because if he did cum, and he was soon, was she really going to swallow him? Was she going to spit it out? Or want it on another part of her body like he had seen in videos? He felt his cock tingle and his whole body tense up as he released into her mouth without warning. “Oh, fu-!” He started to cuss, stopping himself; the feeling of his release washing over him. “I’m so-sorry.” He grunts, then quick shallow moans coming from him.

She continues to stroke him, not wanting to have any of his cum spill out of her mouth. She takes him from her mouth and sits back on her knees, swallowing his load in one gulp.

Spencer looked at her in awe once he realized what she had done and saw her smiling at him, proud of herself. “You… you swallowed it?”

“Yeah?”

“I didn’t think you wanted to is all.”

She shrugs her shoulders and gets off the floor, sitting next to him on the bed. “I’ll try anything once. And it wasn’t all that bad. How was it for you? Was it good? Was I good? Not that you have anything to compare it to, but… anyways now I’m rambling.” She laughs.

Spencer takes her hand and runs his thumb over her knuckles lightly. “It was really good. Can I kiss you?”

“You want to kiss me after I had your cum in my mouth?”

Spencer cocks his eyebrow at her. “Yeah? Why is that not something I do?”

“You can! It’s just some guys are grossed out by it because, well actually I don’t know why.”

“Because they’re dumb.”

“Yeah because they’re dumb. But of course you can kiss me. I like kissing you.”

Spencer touches her cheek again softly and brings her face closer to his, his hand cupping the whole side of her face. He lightly kisses her lips a few times before his other hand crawls over to her thigh, feeling the warm bare skin.

Her hand finds its way to the back of his head, deepening the kiss as she pulls him in harder. Slowly she lowers herself down onto the bed, bringing Spencer with her to lay on top of her.

Spencer  repositions his body in between her legs, feeling the heat between them. He thought back to the videos and research and decides to make a bold move. His fingers go up between her inner thigh and slowly go back down, feeling her shutter under him. “Can I finger you?” He asks, the nervousness in his voice long gone.

“Are you sure?”

Spencer nods his head and scoots down the bed until he was in between her thighs. He moves the bottom of her skirt up and is face to face with her underwear. His long fingers hook around the lacy band pulling the fabric down her hips and slipping the fabric down her legs. Immediately he dives right in, kissing her inner thighs softly until he takes his fingers and spreads her lips apart, kitten licking her clit.

What’s the big deal about guys not being able to find the clit? It’s right here.

“Oh fuck!” She gasps, her hand flying to his hair and bringing him in close. “Please, whatever you do, don’t stop.”

Spencer flattens his tongue and continues to flick his tongue up and down the little button, watching her face to see if he was doing it right. Her sounds alone  gave him the impression he was doing perfect. Spencer pulls his tongue back to coat his middle finger with her wetness so he could easily slip it into her. “Are you okay if I add a finger? I’ll just do one to ease you into it.”

“Okay.” She says, sitting up on her elbows to get a more clear look at what he was doing.

He ever so slowly slips his finger in, careful not to do it too quickly because the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her.

She hisses slightly and whines softly, gasping his name over and over again. “Just move it back and forth out of me.”

He knew she saw the confusion on his face on what to do next, but he was glad she was guiding him through the steps. Spencer slowly withdraws his finger to his knuckle then pushes it back inside. After doing it a few times slowly, he picks the pace up and he noticed the change in how much she enjoyed it.

“Oh my god, Spencer! That feels so good! Will you go back to eating me out too?”

Spencer obliges and parts her lips with his tongue, remembering something else he had read that said that sucking on the clit would promote more pleasure, so he does exactly that, going back and forth between sucking on her clit and licking at it.

“Fuck! Like that! Keep doing that!”

He loved hearing from her what was making her feel good, it only made him want to do it even better.

“Spencer! Fuck me, please! I want you!”

He stopped eating her out and looked back at her nervously. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I want you inside me.”

Spencer’s heart was thumping a mile a minute at her words. “Do you have a condom?” He asks.

“Yes, but I’m on the pill so you don’t technically need to wear one. But it’s okay if you want to.”

“What if I have to cum?”

“You can pull out and cum on me.” She responds with a sly smile.

“Oh! You like that?”

“I do.” She nods her head, taking one of his hands and holding it.

Spencer positions his body in between her legs, his cock at full attention as he lines himself up with her pussy. He visibly gulps as he grips the base of his cock and slips the tip of his cock between her lips, already moaning at feeling her wetness on his tip.

“It’s okay. Just push yourself in, it’ll stretch out around you.”

“I don’t want it to hurt.”

“It won’t, I’ll be okay.” She responds, touching down his stomach.

Spencer continues to push his cock in slowly, feeling her open up to him. He watches as she closes her eyes and bites her bottom lip as she feels each inch fill her.

She grips his forearm tightly and whines once she feels all of him inside her, stretching her out in just the right way. “You feel so good! You’re so deep in me!”

Static.

That’s all Spencer heard as he tried to adjust to her tightness. She could be speaking in a whole different language and he would have no idea because he couldn’t make sense of her.

“Should I move?” He questions with a loud grunt.

“Yes baby. Fuck me please.”

Spencer slowly pulls his hips back, whining at the feeling of the tightness around his cock dissipates. He slowly slides back in, letting another throaty grunt out as he bottoms her out.

“Oh fuck! That felt so good!” She whines, both of her hands grabbing his skinny arms. “Do that again but faster!”

“I-I’m not going to last.”

“It’s okay! We can always do it again after you recover.”

He starts with shallow thrusts, finding a rhythm that wasn’t too fast for either of them and felt good for them.

Her arms fall to her side, gripping the sheets under her as he continues to fuck her. “That’s so good, baby! So good! Keep going please!” She whimpers, looking up at him with her beautiful deep eyes full of admiration and lust for him.

Spencer tried to think of the least sexy thing he could: physics, a puppy, the probability of a girl as beautiful and as nice as her actually wanting him to kiss her and have sex with her. The last one wasn’t the smartest to think about because now the only thing on his mind was the image of her on her knees in front of him with his cock in her mouth and then proceeding to swallow his load with ease. Oh fuck!” He grunts, shutting his eyes and dropping his head in between her shoulder and neck.

“Are you going to cum? You going to cum for me sweet boy?”

His groan back was desperate and needy in her ear, he was afraid to look at her in fear she would be disappointed he was already going to cum.

“It’s okay baby. When you can’t take it anymore, pull out and cum on me.”

Spencer couldn’t help but bite down on her skin, the sensation of cumming for the second time that night as well as being so deep inside her pussy being too much for him.

She yells in his ear, digging her nails into his shoulder.

Spencer sits up and pumps himself a few more times before he pulls out, exploding onto the mound of her pussy.

She watched as the white ropes coated the peach fuzz on her pussy, and how Spencer was falling apart above her.

His arm was extended out, gripping the wooden headboard above her, his knuckles white as he came down from his high. Spencer’s whole face was red and sweaty.

“Come here. Lay down.” She says, pulling him by his arm and making him lay his head on her chest. “You did so good.” She says softly, playing with his hair.

“Yeah? But I barely lasted like 3 minutes.”

“Yes. It doesn’t matter if you didn’t last long, it was your first time. But you took direction so well and even surprised me by asking to do stuff I didn’t think you would be so eager to do.”

Spencer smiles and kisses her chest softly. “Maybe we could do this again sometime?”

“Oh we are for sure doing this again.”

[junova]

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞.

notes: howdy guys, it's been a while. i've been taking a break and finally starting writing again, yay. it's been a rough few months and still treading through it, but i hope you enjoy a piece of my heart with this one.

if it's any consolation, my heart broke while writing this. </3

pairing — boxer!steve rogers x fem!reader

concept — steve has to come with terms of you not wanting him just as much as he wants you.

wc — 6.7k+ [yeah...]

warnings: 18+, themes alluding to sex, emotional cheating, soft!steve, heartbreak, kind of unrequited vibe going on, over all ✨ angst ✨

Even if it was the thousandth time to watch his body move in the ring, you still were memorized by the way he moved. You were in complete admiration of how his hips flowed so fluidly through his punches. Just like always, he was aware of your presence as you stood next to Sam and Wanda, both of them with proud smiles on their faces as he defeated yet another opponent.

Watching as they raised his arm, declaring him as the champion, something he’d been striving so intensely for, the past few months. Even if his body was bruised and littered with the hits Rumlow had been able to mark his body with and not to mention the busted lip, making him taste the blood with nearly every swallow.

It didn’t matter because he had followed through with what he had set his mind out to do. The looks Rumlow was giving him after all the smack talk he had served him was satisfying enough. Even if he didn’t think you did, he saw you standing there alongside his friends, celebrating the win of his life.

He couldn’t but smile proudly at your presence, even if the disapproval you have against his lifestyle was well known between the two of you and everyone else in your friend group.

Steve knew you weren’t a fan of the injuries you brought home in your shared apartment, the nights you actually stayed there. With Jordan’s absence from New York, you’d been staying there more consistently than ever.

He would never admit it out right, but it made his heart full. With you home, he could protect and he worried wherever you weren’t there. Even if he knew you were fully capable of defending yourself if need be, it would always make him feel better when you were close to him.

Just like him, you could confess it even to yourself, but when you were back in the apartment you shared with Steve, you’d always felt safer.

He went straight to the locker room, to clean himself up as best as he could without making his friends and Tony wait too long. He’d usually go straight to them but the group took notice he held himself back when you were around.

The first match you went to and he came up with bruises running along both rib cages, a bloody nose accompanied by a busted lip, he immediately took notice of the way you cowered away from him. Barely even looking at him as you congratulated him. From then on out, he realized how much it bothered you to see him physically injured.

When you’d come, he’d always make sure to clean himself up before. It really worked out on the days he didn’t want to be around many people. Only the stragglers from the crowd would be left, and his friends who supported him nearly every time.

As soon as he made his way over to the group, he was met with Sam’s warm smile pulling him into a warm hug. You found yourself wincing as soon as Steve did. “Easy there big buy, bruises are still fresh.” Sam let up just a tad, before everyone was congratulating him. You stood back with Tony, watching the proud smile grow on his face as he watched his prodigy surpass his monumental goal.

“You should think about coming to more matches. He fights better when you’re here watching him.” You twisted your neck so you could see his coach more clearly who was standing right beside you. “I’m sure he plays just as well when I’m not here. I still watch them everytime, just from home when it’s too much for me to stomach.”

You looked forward away from Tony, Steve coming into your line of vision as Sharon, his ex who had surprisingly shown up to corral by his side, someone you’d hadn’t seen near him in the past few weeks since she’d been out of the country for work.

“His technique and endurance is the same, but his intensity always rises higher when you’re here. I’m not the only one who notices, maybe the only one bold enough to say it to you.” Tony spoke as watched the man he took in when Steve was just sixteen.

Truly, it made his heart swell with pride to see him reach the level of success he had been dreaming for him since the pair had met. Knowing Steve for the past five years, also made him hyper aware of the girl he never seemed to shut up about, not that you’d ever find out.

No matter how much Tony was dying to let the words slip off his tongue.

“I’m just happy to be here for him.” Keeping your words short as you watched Sharon move closer to him, her hand resting on his chest and he didn’t even move away from it. You tried to ignore the ugly shade of green rising in your chest, but with him it always seemed to show.

Not that you’d had a right to, you weren’t single or emotionally available by any means, but the thought of him being with someone who had hurt him so much made you more protective of him than you had a right to be.

“C’mon little dove, have you thought about why you’d rather stay in the dinged up apartment with Steve than be with your boyfriend of three years across the country?” He pressed harder, making sure you were careful of your response. “My friends are here and so is my family. I can’t just leave everyone I love behind.” Your gaze never left Steve’s as he finally was out of Sharon’s grip.

“Steve’s here, too. You sure it has nothing to do with him?” Part of you couldn’t stand there with Tony and lie to him because you weren’t sure what was the nature of your relationship with the boxer.

Thankfully, you were saved from responding by the devil himself as made his way over to the two of you. Much to your dismay, he had to get in a few more words before Steve was in earshot. “Just think about why Steve lives with you when he’s had more than enough to move out for a while now.”

Before you could even process the words leaving his mouth, your favorite man in the ring immediately has you wrapped up in his arms. Holding you so close and so tightly, not even caring if it put more pressure on his lungs than he wished.

“Congrats on the win, Champion. I’m so proud of you.” The arms you had around him were placed gently, too afraid to put any weight on the new bruises. Not to mention the old ones which were still healing.

Once he pulled away from you, just enough so you could look at him. He hummed at Tony and with one nod of his head he knew when the young boxer wanted to be left alone. More times than not, it is usually with you.

“I thought you weren’t coming tonight. Isn’t Jordan in town?” Not even when it was the biggest moment of his career thus far did he care to indulge in his victories. Always it seemed to be looking after you.

“Stevie, this is your night. We don’t have to talk about me — we’re always talking about me.” For a moment he almost bought your act until he looked into those dazzling eyes of yours, ones he never seemed to grow tired of in the past few years.

“I’m not happy unless you’re happy. So, if you need a night where we just watch romcoms and chow on cookie dough ice cream, you know I’m all yours.” Unknowing to the two of you, everyone of your friends was watching the encounter and still couldn’t believe you still were with your current boyfriend.

Or that Steve was just waiting for you patiently. Something that didn’t come easy for him around women. Before you, he didn’t really do relationships with women that didn’t end with him in their bed at some point. Somehow, much to everyone’s dismay, he managed to keep his interactions platonic with you.

At least in their eyes.

“No, Stevie. I’m fine. He just didn’t follow through this time. It’s not the end of the world, I’ll be fine. Tonight, I just wanna be by your side and celebrate you.” Although, he didn’t really believe you Steve decided he would let it go.

“Regardless of it, thank you for coming tonight. Means the world to me.” It really did. Even more so, when he felt like he was one of the reasons you were still in Brooklyn and not in California living with your boyfriend instead.

“Oh, hush bubba. You’re getting so soft on me and you haven’t even had a proper drink in you yet. Let’s just celebrate with our friends, yeah?” You kissed his cheek sweetly, before you were off to Bucky and Nat’s place to get properly fed and surely get Steve drunk off his ass.

It really was the elephant in the room you were choosing to ignore. The fluttering feeling of adventurous butterflies traveling to spaces you didn’t know existed. Everytime he pulled you close to his side or kissed your temple.

When Bucky would do something monumentally stupid, he would whisper a line in your ear humorous enough to hear you laugh. Even right now, when you knew he was exhausted, muscles sore and aching — Steve was still tending to whatever you needed.

In this moment, your body nestled between his legs as he draped his arm across your chest, letting him hold you close was exactly what you needed. Even if you tried to remove yourself several times because of the new injuries, he would never let you.

“What’s next, Rogers?” Steve watched as he craned his neck towards Sharon. You’d almost forgotten she was here, she’d been so quiet most of the night.

“A whole lot of rest and then in a few weeks, right back into training.” He spoke with pride because winning the title went hand and hand with defending it. “You should come to the club. Danielle’s been itching to see you, again.”

Steve grimaced, not just as Sharon’s words, but with how stiff your body became. The way you rubbed back and forth with the tip of your fingers against his forearm came to a halt.

You weren’t really sure what to do because now you felt horrible for even feeling like you had a right to be upset in the first place. Because you didn’t. You weren’t single and Steve was. In this space in time, he did nothing wrong.

When you followed Nat back into the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine, away from him, it felt like he had made a mistake.

Just watching as you followed Nat up the pathway, in your pretty green dress, as you messed with the necklace adoring your neck. Something he learned you did when you were anxious.

“Why would you bring that up now? In front of her?” He was slightly pissed off she had driven you away and out of his arms. Steve would have you within his grip constantly if you would let him. Not that you did, but it was still a certain something he found himself wishing for. More than not though, someone else always seemed to hold your attention whenever he wasn’t in the ring.

Jordan. Tony. Sam. Natasha. Bucky. Wanda.

Tonight had seemed it might go in a different direction, until Sharon steered your mind elsewhere. One where you were a girl who missed her boyfriend. Or at least that’s what he thought.

Unknowingly to Steve, Jordan was the last thing on your mind, which allowed the guilt to settle in. Maybe, just this one time it was rightfully placed. The thoughts you were having scared you senseless — making you want to do something you knew you shouldn’t.

You just sat there on the padded bar tool as Nat grabbed a bottle of white with a bottle of red. Like time and time again, Nat read your mind just as she often did. “So, why couldn’t he come this time?” She drilled into you, her iridescent daggers as piercing as ever.

“He said he forgot his mother asked him to help her move out of the house. He said he’d make it up to me some other time.” Just like always.

But you held your tongue before voicing it to anyone other than yourself. It’d been months since you’d seen him in the flesh, and it was the first time he spoke to you in days when he informed you he’d been unable to spend any of his time off with you.

“He’s just never here and he keeps asking for me to move to Los Angeles, but my whole life is here. Before, he never seemed to really pressure me. He was always patient with me to travel at my own pace but I think he ultimately thought I would eventually go there with him.” You breathed out, scared of the truth dripping right out of you.

“I just-, you know what? Nevermind. It’s isn’t important.” She was never one to bite her tongue, but she found herself trying to when your feelings were involved.

“Tell me. What is it?” Your curious, bambi eyes peering into your soul, dying to pull the confession right out of her.

“Do you even miss him when you’re apart for so long? I’m not judging but it just seems like you’re okay. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, but why don’t you ever go to him or Jordan to you?” Natasha spoke softly, afraid she might be poking the bear just a bit.

“Of course I miss him. I would see him if I could. I’m just a little too busy right now with work and my family.” You attacked back, feeling the need to defend yourself.

“Are you really going to make me say it?” With both bottles of wine on the counter, she went to grab three more wine glasses — for Sharon, herself, and you.

“Say what? What the hell are you talking about?” You pushed her as she put out the bottles of wine as she managed to link the three vines of the glasses in her left fingertips. “Forget it. I shouldn’t have said anything.” She was regretting it now, because maybe you weren’t quite ready to hear the words everyone else knew to be true. Anyone who was around the two of you could see it.

Perhaps, Nat never spoke a word of it because at the very least, she thought you wouldn’t be as naive to see his feelings. The ones he seemed to offer you on a silver platter, whether you wanted to reject or accept the offering, giving it to you wholeheartedly.

Following her out the patio door where the two of you stopped, not moving a step further. She didn’t really say anything either. Letting you bask in the glow before the fall.

He was laughing so hard, his hand clutching his chest as him. Golden hair shining bright by the fire pit, almost as

lively as his smile. Even if it looked like his spirit could have been beaten out of him tonight, he’d never show it.

When he had trouble keeping his eyes open, he’d force himself to stay alert because moments he could spend with ones he loved seemed too precious to pass up. Especially over the past few months — he didn’t even have to think twice about it.

Through the schedule Tony had him on, his life was eating, breathing, living boxing. Training every day in the gym, whether it be furthering his techniques in the gym to Tony making him regret any mistake he made in the ring.

Even some days he was just weight training when Tony told him he could rest. He couldn’t though. Not when he could taste the sweetness of his dreams on the tip of his tongues.

Every day, dawn till dusk, training consumed every moment of his time. Steve thought his body was restless before, but now? Nothing came even close to this.

Leading Steve to be blissfully unaware of what was actually going in that fantastically bold head of yours.

“Just spill it, Romanov.” You pressured her, but your eyes were too weak to redirect your directions elsewhere. Only Steve holding your attention at one.

“Remember when Steve left for Spain for three months with Tony?” Your body stilled, having a feeling you knew where this was going. Regretting you told her what had happened with Steve in the first after promising him it would just stay between the two of you.

“It was the year Jordan and I had split for two months.” The memory of what happened always clouding your better judgement. The way his eyes shined still haunted you. “Steve had already been there a month when it happened and the second I told him he insisted on flying me out.”

Looking at him fondly, across the greenery before speaking so softly as if he was right next to you, “I could never say no to him. I still can’t.” Nat tried to ignore it but she could see through the fog of your first love fading even if you were trying your hardest to avoid the inevitable heartache.

The care you held for him was oozing out of you, bursting and breaking at the seams. When you kept thinking of him more than a roommate, more than a friend.

“Dove, you can’t just keep pretending your feelings don’t exist. The more you try to bury the root deep the more it will grow.” You knew she was right, but you really didn’t want to hurt anyone.

You supposed you were already causing pain unintentionally. “His biggest insecurity is him. Jordan thinks I’m still here because of him.” You confessed, the ongoing fight no secret to anyone, really.

“Aren’t you?” Maybe if you had been a better liar, you could’ve convinced her but everyone could read you like the back of your own hand.

You hated the spotlight she was putting on you, but even more so because she was right. Moving forward with Jordan meant leaving someone else behind, something you couldn’t seem to prepare yourself to do.

“I love Jordan. He’s my first love and I thought he would be the greatest one, too.” You really want to stop the love and admiration flowing out of you, but you couldn’t choose who you love and maybe it was time for you to stop fighting it.

“Then, I met Steve. He responded to the ad I put out for the spare room in my apartment and we met for coffee.” If you had listened to your mother, her wishes of you not to be in the company of a man who was a complete stranger, you’d never meet the most important person in your life.

“He looked more like a boy back then. Clean shaven. No beard. Steve was still muscular, but not nearly as toned as he is now. But his eyes? They pulled me right in. Still do, every damn time.” You should have held some sort of shame, but you didn’t.

“You should do something about it, Dove. He isn’t going to be single forever.” Nat questioned as you followed her lead, back to the roaring fire.

“Nat, I love Jordan. I could never do that to him.” You really couldn’t, but you also couldn’t find it in you to move with him either. “I know you love him, but you aren’t in love anymore.” Growing closer and closer, back to the group, you saw him clearly.

“What do you mean?” Trying to ignore the pain in your chest as Natasha spoke. “I think you’re scared of ending it with Jordan. Dove. I’ve known you for a long time now and I’ve never seen you look at anyone the way you do with Steve.”

The words spilling out of her lips left you a little broken — the truth spearing you through. She wasn’t wrong, not one bit. Nat never nearly was, especially when your feelings were involved. Steve had become such an enigma to you in the past year.

The line of platonic friendship and overflowing emotional intimacy was becoming too entangled for you to even comprehend.

“Just think about it. I just want you to be happy.” The rest of the night, it’s all you could think about. A few days passed and it was still in the forefront of your mind.

When Steve was walking home with you this week, you couldn’t stop wondering all the hypotheticals swarming inside your dreams.

He could tell, too.

You’d never been so quiet, not ever. He’d like to hear you, especially when you were drunk. Like you seemed to be now, at least to him but tequila that lit a fire in your chest a few hours ago was beginning to wear off. Just when the feelings you kept trying to avoid would seep there way back in like your furry, fat cat Thor when he wormed his body through the gate into the apartment.

“What’s wrong? You’ve seemed off this week.” You felt his hand kiss yours, but he didn’t bother to find it’s home. He’d been keeping his distance or at least been trying to. You'd been so vulnerable lately and the last thing he wanted to do was exploit that.

Ever since Sharon had made a comment about Danielle, and you escaped with Nat, something changed. You more guarded around him, more than you'd ever been since you met.

Steve knew there was a reason for it, but he didn't want to push you — not when it looked like you would combust into a breakdown at any given moment.

“I’ve just been thinking about where my life is going and where I want it to go.” You confessed, letting your words linger. “Jordan wants me to move with him to California and I’m running out of reasons to say no.” In perfect harmony, your eyes met his at the same time.

They weren’t joyful what his bright blues usually possess, but this time they were indifferent. Not even you could read them.

“Do you want to move there with him?” Steve asked you, his heart on the verge of dropping into his stomach. “If it will make you happy, you should.” Shoving his hands in his pockets, you watched him drift away from you.

“I don’t know. It might.” Both of you coming to a halt, walking up to the apartment the two of you shared.

“He’s insecure about you. It’s why he’s pressuring me.” The two of your bodies so close but so far away as you stood in the doorway. With a confusing gaze and pouty lips, practically guiding you into temptation.

“He used to always tell me you were in love with me. He was fully convinced, still is. I never thought so. You were just my best friend, that was it. I just never really thought about it unless Jordan brought it up.” You would have loved to blame your sudden outburst on the alcohol, but it was something you'd been dying to do.

Before you never had the guts, but you a felt a pull towards Steve lately, like maybe there was something more trying to burst under the seams.

“I thought Tony was bullshitting me, fucking with me, but I didn’t ever give it a thought. Then, Nat brought up Spain.” Nights you told yourself were a mistake, but deep down it was the probably the safest you felt in a long time.

“What are you talking about? What did Tony say?” Fetching for the key, he slid it in before opening the door for you and following you inside. “Steve, why do you still live here?” Blushing cheeks and a string of incoherent words was all you could make out from him.

As he headed for the small couch, trying to make up an excuse good enough. One which you’d actually believe, he hoped.

“You make four times as much as me, if not more. For some reason, you’ve decided to stay in this shithole apartment — it doesn’t make sense.” He wished you would make sense of it, that way he didn’t have to say a word.

“Do you want me to move out?” He questioned, watching your movements. If you wanted him to move out, he wouldn’t hesitate to do so.

It was the last thing you wanted, but the line between your friendship with him was always blurred. Only now, when it was vaguely pointed out by the two people close to the both of you — it became more apparent than ever.

“No, I just, I guess I’m asking why. You know you’re more than welcome to stay here as long as you’d like, but this place is a dump, Steve. Why on earth would you wanna stay here?” When he looked up, where you stood above him having a hard time biting his tongue.

Because you’re here.

It’s what he wanted to say, but he didn’t have the right and he would just be an asshole if he put you in a compromising position. He already felt guilty enough with his feelings in the first place, he didn't need to pile on.

“I guess it’s just easier to stay. It’s so close to the ring and I’m maybe a tad too comfortable.” You sat next to him on the couch. Finding yourself trapped in the green of his eyes. “Don’t you want something better?” Maybe it was him or maybe it was you. Neither of you could tell.

The two of you inched closer until Steve was caressing your thigh, just with the tip of his thumb. “I’m more than happy with where I’m at.”

“Well, I’m asking because I need to go to California. Just for a bit. I need to see Jordan, it’s been awhile since I’ve seen him.” He didn’t stop touching, not even with the mention of his name.

Even if it pierced him every time you talked about him. Or when Jordan came to town, he felt like he didn’t exist to you.

He didn’t blame you, not at all. Jordan was your highschool sweetheart, and you wanted so badly for it to work but something was holding you back. Something you were trying to let go of.

“He loves me so much and wants to start building this whole new life, but how am I supposed to tell him?” Steve said nothing, letting you sink into the ground.

“He’s been nothing, but kind and loving. Always there, always supportive. The best partner I could have asked for.” Steve laced your hand in his like it was the most natural thing in the world, making butterflies erupt at full speed.

You couldn’t really pinpoint a moment when he started, but all you knew is how safe his warm, calloused hands made you feel. Since the moment you met, never failing to comfort you when needed.

“Then what’s the problem, Dove?” Steve questioned you, untangling his body from yours.

If he was going to help you, he needed to think and being so close to you wouldn’t get himself where you needed. Above all, you didn’t make any easier when a small whine left your throat — tugging at his heart strings.

“We never talk about what happened in Barcelona.” You watched his body tighten, muscles in his arm constricting.

It made him feel just as uneasy as it did to you. At least you could find comfort in that.

“Dove, there’s a reason for it. You and I both know it.” Steve was right. His self righteous sense of nature always kicked in when you wanted it the least.

“You don’t think about it? Because I do.” Pushing weight on his heart, you were very aware you held. You weren’t too naive to know just how much he cared for you, but coward enough to try and make him admit it first.

“You were broken up, things are different now. We’re home where you have a boyfriend and I have boxing.”

“Yes, where I have a boyfriend who wants me to abandon everything I hold close to me to join him without even bothering to ask me what I want.” You puffed out, exhaustion coming in overflow. “The past year, he hasn’t once asked me what I want.”

The boy with golden locks found himself wanting nothing more than to hold you in his arms, nurse you back to health with all the love he could offer.

But even he knew he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t keep on spreading himself thin over a woman who was so conflicted, so distraught she was collapsing within herself. If he wasn’t too careful, he might fall right beside you.

“Before we got back together, he asked me.” You confessed, feeling better as soon as the secret flew from your mouth. “He asked you what?” Steve pressed on, a bit terrified of it truly, but even he had to know.

“He asked if anything happened between us the months I was there and I lied. Ever since we met, he’s been insecure. He thinks I’m going to leave you for him and it wasn’t the first time he asked either.” You wish you hadn’t dealt with the two of them so poorly, but with the expression on Steve’s face you knew you had.

“He knows I lied and it hurts even more he stayed with me anyways.” Steve didn’t move, his fear keeping him still.

“I don’t know how to be his after you, but I don’t know how to let go of my high school sweetheart either.” You felt trapped, in between an impossible decision. An old love, who loves you past your mistakes, past the hurt and a soulful heart admiring you from where you’re at and nothing less.

“Those nights don’t have to mean anything if you don’t want them to.” He spoke softly, his beautiful orbs catching yours in the moonlight peeking through the window.

“They mean too much to me, that’s the problem.” If he didn’t move as you inched closer to his body, planting yourself in front of him, you could tell he was straining himself.

“Do you remember the first time?” He looked confused, wondering if you truly were bold enough to speak of something you shouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole. Your hand found his chest, feeling the pulse of his rapid heart beat. “I was so shy and timid the first time with you, but you guided me so well.” Too fond of the memory of him worshipping every part of your body.

The very thing he wanted to do since the moment he met you, but Steve wanted more than that. Now more than ever.

“You don’t have to remind me, Dove. I remember.” He swallowed deeply, trying to erase the permanent memory of your body writhing beneath him, moaning out his name, begging him for more.

He still found himself thinking about it. Those two months with you had just amplified what he felt even more because now he knew what it was like for you to wake up in his arms, bare skin against his own.

The way you curled into his chest, your arms wrapped around his waist for optimal comfort.

Or when he’d wake up before you, which was most days, he’d find you murmuring his name in your sleep while soft fingertips caressed your skin lulling you into a more peaceful slumber.

“I never forget, Dove. That’s the problem.” With one finger, he pushed back the hair falling in your face tucking it behind your ear. “I tried to move past it, I went on a couple dates with this woman, Danielle.” You already felt your heart clench at the thought of him with someone else.

“She’s kind, smart, and beautiful and she seems to like me. Sharon keeps bugging me to take her out again since she set the two of us up.” Steve was trying to talk calmly, but he couldn’t ground himself. Especially when you only seemed to pull back further from him.

It was weird that Sharon set the pair up, considering she dated Steve not too long ago but it seemed she could put her feelings inside if it was for your despair.

In her daunting eyes, you were the reason her and the promising boxer broke up in the first place. As cliche as it was, she offered Steve an ultimatum after six months of dating — her or you.

Steve picked you.

It wasn’t like he loved her at that point. He did care for her, but you just meant too much to him. When kind, iridescent eyes met his own for the first time Steve never was able to stop thinking about them. Or you for that matter.

Carefully calculated as Steve could be, he managed to trap you between the closed door of his bedroom and his toned body.

“But I want to hear you say something before I do.” His gaze never faltered for a moment as he played with the hem of the short slip dress adoring your taut figure.

Half of your mind was begging you to retreat into your room and forget the last time you’d been pressed up against him like this. The other half wanted to see what he would do once he knew you were in the palm of his hand once again.

You had a feeling he already did.

His beard was grown out and his silky, golden hair that almost reached his shoulders make him look even more deliciously sinful.

“What’s that?” You tried not to gulp loudly, but if you even made the slightest movement, he would notice. “Tell me you’re in love with him.” His soft thumb caressing your side, not sure if he was trying to soothe himself or you.

“Just tell me five years down the line, you see him right there with you. Just say it, so I can move on.” He couldn’t even look at you, he couldn’t take the inevitable. “Tell me we’re just friends and Jordan’s your future.” You met his eyes, the prettiest blues you’ll ever see.

Commanding your attention without even trying — every damn time. You weren’t sure what you wanted, but you knew seeing him hurt was chipping a piece of you away. Watching his arched eyebrows furrowed in distress, fine lines being made in the middle for proof.

Soft fingertips met his skin, smoothing out his furrowed brows, closing his eyes trying to remember what you smelled like. Just like Sharon reached her breaking point, he had too. Steve couldn’t watch you any longer without being the one you wanted without a doubt.

“Stevie.” You softly whisper, before pulling him into your arms.

Even if he was double your size, he let you hold him as best as you could. Comfort him even if you were the reason he’s breaking.

The strong, persistent boxer had been transported back to the sick and thin kid he once was before all the guns and glory came. Steve was right back to where he got rejected by anyone and everyone. A time and many places where no one gave a damn about Steve Rogers, not anyone he wished for.

You watched him untangle himself from you, but you weren’t sure just how much time had passed. A few minutes? Thirty? An hour?

Only time could tell and she wasn’t really on your side at the moment.

“I’ve only found love once. Back in high school, there was this girl, Hazel. She was kind, sweet, eyes that shined like fresh honey. The first person to ever show any interest in me and I was in love with the fact that someone actually wanted me.” Steve felt his heart clench at the memory he wished to forget.

“I truly believed I loved her with every fiber in me and I thought she cared about me too, until I realized she was just using me to get to Bucky.” You watched the distress wash over him again and you wanted nothing more than to make him feel appreciated and loved. Not rejected and forgotten.

“It broke my heart for months because I truly believed I was in love with this girl who I hardly knew.” He sighed deeply, like he somehow already was aware of the soft whisper of goodbye.

“It always kind of stayed with me, not ever feeling like I was good enough for anyone until Tony found me. Graduated high school and I started training dawn till dusk until I couldn’t anymore just to start all over and do it the next day.” He was looking everywhere but you. Even if there was not a thing in this damn hallway, but two pressured hearts.

“Not too long after, I met you and I remember thinking this is the most extraordinary woman I’ve ever met in my life.” Now, feeling like an absolute dick because you truly didn't deserve for this wonderful man to be in your life.

“You were so kind to me and you had no reason to be, but I learned it’s just who you are. This amazingly bright full beam, shining their light on everyone else — not paying attention to how much they give even if it’s everything they have.” Your skin felt hot beyond comparison, the passion in the words he spoke deeper than the memory of his skin against your own.

“I always tried to ignore it, how stupidly kind and thoughtful you are. How much you take care of me when you don’t have to. You cleaned my wounds for months without even asking me what I was doing.”

“I already knew you had a boyfriend, one you love very much, but I couldn’t stop myself from being around you. Now, I have to leave. I need to move on for me because I know how this ends for me — how it always has.” He sighed before walking away, leaving you hanging in every conceivable way. You didn’t notice the suitcase by the door before. Until he was walking out of the apartment with his possessions in hand — out of sight and out of mind.

“Wait!” He was already making it to his car, the old beat up pickup truck he couldn’t seem to get rid of when you reached him. “I just need time, Steve.” You’d been sprinting after him, until you caught up to him, making his attention fully focused on you.

“Jordan’s the only boyfriend I’ve ever had — I don’t know how to let him go.” You were crying because maybe, deep down you were hoping you could have your cake and eat it too.

“And you’re the only person I’ve ever been in love with, Dove. I can’t keep sticking around hoping you’ll wake up one day and feel the same.” He emptied his belongings in his truck before returning his attention towards you.

“Steve, don’t do this. Please. Don’t leave me.” You’d become so dependent on him, more than you realized. “You’re the only person who truly loves me and not for who they want me to be.” Trying to plead with him, but it felt like you were only pushing him even further away.

“Then tell me I’m the only one you want.” But all he was left with silence because you couldn’t and he already knew what you didn’t. He knew you hated change more than anything, that you’d rather stay in what was comfortable even if you were presented with a different option.

Someone you wanted more.

With tears in your eyes, you looked up at him like he was crushing you and there was nothing to stop the numbing feeling. He sympathized, maybe more than he liked to admit, it’s what he chose to live with over the past year. It started the moment he met you if he was truly being honest.

He knew there was nothing left for him, no matter how much his heart clenched at the sound of your cries. He couldn’t be the one who was always taking care of you, loving you, when you didn’t feel what he felt. It was splitting him open, and you just kept taking pieces of him away — parts of him you would hold forever.

He let you cling onto him one more time, begging for him not to leave you. He let you believe he wouldn’t as he calmed you back in a false sense of security. Until you were asleep in his soft sheets later that night, leaving you lonely in the home you’d been sharing.

With only half of his belongings with him, he pulled up to the project he had just completed. Even now, with not a single hope you would ever see it after he just abandoned you, there was still a light hope you’d be able to at least see it one day. If Steve was ever strong enough to face his heartbreak again.

tagging: @tonystankschild | @andromedasstarship | @tinylumpiaa | @brattycherubwrites | @bval-1 | @kayteewritessteve |

[crienselt]

Since I haven’t seen any other write ups, here’s a recap of some of the bits from Tracy Deonn’s event on 2/3, including a few Bloodmarked teasers. I’ll put it all under the cut.

Bloodmarked:

The book is about consequences. And consequences aren’t always good, aren’t always in your control. As a writer, you have to allow bad things to happen when you push things to their end. She doesn’t shy away from that/lets the consequences play out as she thinks they really would. Sometimes bad things have to happen when you do the right thing. Middle books are always the darkest book in a trilogy. Her characters are “churning” with the consequences of the events in Legendborn.

The overall arc of the story is still the same, but individual plot points changed. She basically tore the book down to it’s studs and retooled it.

We will meet more Merlins and learn more about their community; she said (basically) that it’s interesting because you have these powerful magic users, in service to order–and it’s a “strange sort of servitude” with the oaths. We’ll get to see what looks like/feels like for them.

As seen in the preview in the paperback, we’ll learn more about what is actually involved in creating castings/how aether works. She actually consulted a physicist about this.

They’ll be more Alice

About the Show:

Very happy with her partners and wouldn't have chosen people who didn’t share her vision for Bree

Most excited to see Nick and Bree’s first meeting–and really all the first meetings

On the Nick/Sel bond:

This was in response to whether or not Sel can feel Nick’s feelings for Bree and if this influences Sel’s feelings for her. The answer is no, but this is really a magic system question.

The bond is very limited and body guarded related, no free flow of emotions

Nick can feel Sel’s murderous intent (so he knows when he’s hunting/fighting/engaged with enemy/his body guard on alert)

Sel can feel Nick’s mortal fear/when he’s in danger

The only emotions that get exchanged are fear and aggression

This will come up in Bloodmarked

On the Sel POV:

Not pre-existing material, but something she really wanted to write

These are some of the scene she really wanted to write about (and “get out.”)

She really wanted to show the scene in which Sel first really thinks about Bree and who she is as well as the major turning point in Bree and Sel's relationship from his point of view. (And she totally gets what I can only describe as a “shipping face/smile" when talking about the latter.)

Other tidbits:

She has a lot of similarities to Bree, but Bree is better at navigating spaces where she is unwelcome and is more willing to speak up than she ever would have been at 16; Bree is also more of a punk than Tracy; Bree’s narrative voice is very close to hers but in "the way that’s most amusing” to her, Sel’s voice is closest to her. A lot of the time, Sel says what she’s thinking; she hears his voice clearly. Re: writing him, he’s privileged in that even though he’s a second class citizen in his society, he’s also usually the most magic in the room, he was raised in a nice home, he doesn’t have to think about race.

Pretty sure Daniel Jose Older says Sel is his favorite character

Lots of really great talk about her craft and process and where some of her ideas come from. Part of the inspiration for the story was this idea of Black Americans being lucky if they can trace their ancestry back four generations and meanwhile there’s the this guy, Arthur, who may or may not have really existed that has all these stories about him dating back centuries. She also started with this imagine of a teenage Black girl going on a quest to answer an impossible question (“Why did my mom die?”).

After her mom died, Tracy found out that her mom was almost exactly the same age as Tracy when she lost her mother (aka Tracy’s grandmother) and apparently the same thing happened with said grandmother losing her mother. That was obviously also an inspiration.