#whenever i try to imagine sex with a real person it makes me very uncomfortable

[starlordamn]

My Girl - Michael Gray oneshot

Summary: You and Michael have always had sexual tension, from what started off as playful flirting has turned to actual feelings and most of all lust. So one night when you are doing last minute paperwork and Michael is making it so you can’t concentrate, a stare across a room leads to desk sex

Warnings: smut, fingering, desk sex?? vaginal sex, hair pulling, michael gray being hot!! fluff at the beginning, and its 1am i just got the idea for this sp possible grammar errors and yeah that’s it enjoy

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It was late at night when you were still in your office finishing off some paperwork Tommy had asked you to complete before tomorrow. Of course you took on the workload but you slightly underestimated how much there was to get through. Though you’d managed to get through a good chunk, you couldn’t help but feel distracted with the pair of eyes across the room that were fixated on you as you worked. Michael. He was your…you weren’t even sure what you two were anymore. You both would constantly tease and flirt with each other and though it started out as a joke – Michael’s stupid pick-up lines and your over the top, ridiculous attempts at seducing him – it all felt very real now. Your eye roll that usually followed his pick-up lines had been replaced by flustered mumbling and his sarcastic laugh that followed your teasing had been replaced with a fluttery feeling in the pit of his stomach. It would be a lie to say that no one felt the tension whenever you two were in a room together and it would be a lie to say that you both didn’t constantly have the other person on their mind, pretty much twenty four-seven.

Your eyes scanned the same sentence that you had skimmed over four times already, yet not properly taken in. You felt hot under Michael’s gaze, it made you almost squirm in your seat.

You swear he hadn’t looked away for a second in the past twenty minutes.

After rolling the pencil between your fingers, trying your hardest, one last time, to concentrate, you finally looked up to meet Michael’s stare.

“Do you like what you see?” Your eyebrows raised as you swiftly sat back in your chair, you legs crossing one another, moving slowly on purpose. Michael’s eyes darted away from your face momentarily to look at your legs before he replied,

“You know I always do.” He smirked confidently as he noticed your smooth façade crack at his words, your cheeks dusting with pink and you fiddled with the pencil in your hands. His smirk faded slightly as he noticed your nervous shift in body language,

“Do I make you uncomfortable, Y/N?”

You looked up at him quickly, shaking your head reassuringly, “no, I just,” you paused, during which you couldn’t help the grin spread across your face, “I can’t concentrate when you look at me like that.”

He grinned back at you, looking at the floor for a moment before he responded,

“Can you blame me, when you always look so stunning?”

Shaking your head gently unbelievingly whilst letting out a small giggle, you put the pencil back on the table before putting your elbows on the desk and resting your chin on your hands. Your cheeks were still so blushed were from his comments, you almost didn’t reply,

“Are you flirting with me, Michael?”

He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward towards you, his elbows on the opposite side of your desk, your faces inches away, “Yes. Is it working?”

His hot breath fanned against your lips as he made the gap between you both slightly shorter. His lips were centimetres away from yours and you felt your heart hammer in your chest with anticipation.

“Yes.” Was all you muttered out before closing the gap fully between the two of you. His soft lips hitting yours ever so gentle and soft. As if he were scared he would break you. Your hands raised to wrap themselves around the back of his neck as he stood up slightly and pulled you over your desk, knocking quite a few things off in the process before you were sat on the edge of your desk with Michael stood between your legs. You were about to protest about Tommy’s paperwork but was cut of with a gasp as Michael began to kiss his way down your neck, kissing slightly rougher than he had your lips. He took his time as he sucked his way down your neck all the way down to your collarbone as his hands gripped your hips, drawing lazy circles on them. He looked up at you when he reached the top of your shirt and you nodded, encouraging him to take it off.

He did.

He unbuttoned your shirt, his warm hands brushing against the skin of your arms as he slid it off you, sending a shiver down your spine. You sat in just your skirt and bra now as Michael leaned in to kiss you again, this time it was rougher. It was forceful and you sank into it with ease, a floaty feeling washing over you so you didn’t even realise he had taken your bra off until you felt the cold air hit your hard nipples. That feeling was eased straight away as Michael wrapped his lips around one of your nipples, sucking it and nipping at it while his hand pinched your other one.

“Michael.” His name came out as a breathy moan as you arched your back, almost trying to squirm away from his touch which only made him step closer to you. His clothed hard cock pressed against your clothed cunt as he took your other nipple in his mouth making you whine his name softly again.

Michael’s pulled away from your breasts, the cold air now teasing your nipples as one of his hands began tracing little patterns on your thigh underneath your skirt. Your breath hitched as his fingertips reached your panties and he stopped to toy with the lace before yanking it aside and running his fingers teasingly over your entrance,

“So marvellously wet for me.”

“Michael…fuck- please stop teasing m-” you managed to whine out at first before you broke off with a louder moan when his hand dragged up to your clit and began to slowly rub circles on it. He continued to draw circles on your clit agonisingly slow as he brought his lips against your ear,

“If you don’t like my teasing, why are you moaning?” He smirked against the skin below your ear as he pushed a finger inside of you, a line of expletives rolling off your tongue.

“Michael, please,” you whined as he began thrusting his finger in and out of you slowly.

“Tell me what you want and I might just give it to you,” he finished his sentence off by taking your earlobe between his teeth and dragging it slightly. You moaned in frustration, unable to get your words out as Michael added another finger to you, stretching you ever so slightly.

“Please, I want you, I want you to fuck me,” you whined out needily. As soon as the words left your mouth his hand was gone from in-between your legs, replaced instead with a dull aching sensation. He reached down to undo his belt and you reached out to unbutton his waistcoat and then his shirt. Pulling the waistcoat off his shoulders and unbuttoning his shirt you discarded them both on the floor before running your hands over his chest in awe. He dragged your skirt down your legs and your panties down as you lifted your hips slightly, also discarding your items of clothing on the floor.

Pulling his cock free from his boxers, you saw he was fully hard. Not only that, but he was huge. You widened your eyes slightly and he noticed immediately.

Resting his forehead gently against yours, “do you want this, Y/N?”

His eyes were sincere as they looked into yours, awaiting an answer.

“Yes, make me yours.”

Yours. He felt his stomach flip at the very word. His.

That was all the confirmation he needed before placing himself once again between your legs, Pulling them slightly more apart as he lined up with your entrance and slowly beginning to push inside you. You hissed as he stretched you out, his cock fitting tightly inside your cunt, the slight burning pain being overridden by the pleasure of being full to the brim with Michael’s cock.

He stilled inside you for a minute to let you properly adjust to his size, and it wasn’t long before you were asking him to move inside of you.

“Gosh Y/N, I can’t believe I’ve waited so long before doing this. Fuck…” he moaned lowly into your hair, resting his head on your shoulder momentarily.

“Aaaa…fuck, me too,” you moaned in agreement, you’ll never know why you both just allowed the tension to grow between you.

“Michael, god, that feels so good,” you cried out as he shifted your legs slightly. Placing his hands on the underside of your thighs he quickened his pace, his cock inside you feeling so good. Every nerve felt like bliss, you felt like you were on ecstasy, everything felt so good all at once as Michael brought a hand up to toy with one of your breasts. This feeling was a thousand times better than just your imagination could have ever created. You were both one now. Circling your hips in sync with his deep and sharp thrusts inside of you.

His hand pulled away from your breast and reached up to your head, pulling roughly on your hair as he buried his hand in your hair. Jerking your head to the side with his hair tightly in his fist he attached his lips to the side of your neck, instantly finding your sweet spot. Smirking against your skin once again he sucked on your neck.

“Mmm-Michael I- I’m close,” you barely managed to form coherent words as the build up of tension in your lower abdomen grew significantly as Michael hit a spot inside you that left you seeing stars, basically falling apart beneath him.

“I know, fuck, come with me,” he whined roughly against your neck, your hair still gathered in his hand as he pulled it harder. He thrusted repeatedly against your g-spot inside of you and your eyes rolled back as you squeezed around Michael’s cock, making it twitch inside of you.

“Come with me.”

You didn’t need to be told twice, the slight pain from the hair pulling, the fingers lazily drawing circles on your clit, his cock hitting your g-spot, it all sent you over the edge, your orgasm washing over you with force, causing you to shake slightly. Your walls squeezed Michael’s cock which sent him over the edge too, his hot release painting your walls as your grinded your hips in sync with his thrusts to ride both of your orgasms out.

Your hips finally came to a stop as you both steadied your breathing before Michael pulled out of you, causing you to whine slightly at the feeling of being empty. You both stopped to look around at the mess you made; all of your papers were on the floor, scattered here and there, all out the orders you had filed them in.

Michael smirked before looking back at you, “I’m sure Tommy’s paperwork can wait a little longer.”

You grinned, understanding instantly, “it can wait all night.”

“That’s my girl,” he grinned back at you before once again attacking your neck but you pushed him away slightly making him look at you with concern.

“My girl? So are we…” You bit your lip in hesitation.

“Dating? Of course, only if you want to, my love.” He smiled nervously awaiting a response, the glisten in his eyes genuine.

“Of course I do.”

[buckyownsmylife]

Buy a Heart - Steve Rogers Smut

The one where Steve’s your best friend and he grows tired of seeing you stuck with a lousy boyfriend.

Warnings: infidelity, smut, unprotected sex, abusive relationships

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I was woken up from my own thoughts by the sound of laughter, and quickly joined in so I wouldn’t look silly or as if I wasn’t paying attention to what had been said at the party - which was actually the case. It was getting harder and harder to put on the fake smile and pretend everything was okay when I just knew I didn’t love Thomas anymore. But I also couldn’t find the best way to break it all off with him, because the truth was… he scared me. And I hated that it intimidated me, but it did.

Almost as if he could hear my thoughts, his eyes fell on me, and I shuddered, forcing a smile that hopefully read “everything is fine”. He raised a single eyebrow, a clear indication that something bad was going to happen when we left this dinner party, but otherwise kept on the appearances in front of everyone else. He would never create a scene in front of the Avengers, of course.

Just then, my phone beeped, signaling that a message had arrived. It was Steve. Instinctively, I felt the need to raise my gaze and look for his, but I knew that I couldn’t. Thomas had enough insecurities about my best friend already, I didn’t need to add this to the list of reasons why he would yell at me tonight. So I read over the text and returned my gaze to the conversation, pretending it wasn’t anything of interest, waiting for the perfect opportunity to excuse myself.

“I’m going to the toilet,” I had to explain once my boyfriend’s hand trapped my wrist, securing it just a tiny bit tighter than it should. “I’ll be right back.” He pursed his lips, but otherwise let me leave without raising the attention of my friends, who remained blissfully unaware of the tension between him and I. Good. That’s how I wanted it to be. It wouldn’t do me any good to have Earth’s mightiest heroes worried about my well-being.

I moved towards the nearest bathroom instinctively, knowing Steve would already be there, waiting for me. My mind was overtaken by him and only him, that familiar gravitational pull making me reach for the door at the same time he opened it from the inside. Damn supersoldier hearing.

“You wanted to talk to me?” I asked when he had pulled me into the tiny bathroom, made all the more suffocating by his large figure that took pretty much all of the space in the room. But instead of answering, he cradled my face, eyebrows furrowed so deep it made me want to press a thumb between them, make sure they weren’t creating a definitive mark in his perfect skin. His eyes penetrated my very soul, and it was only when I finally allowed mine to meet his, that he let me go.

“When were you going to tell me?” The question made me freeze, Steve’s intimidating figure towering over me. My heartbeat had sped up, making sure that he knew just how I truly felt, but I still had to try.

“What are you talking about?” It was the wrong thing to say and I knew it. I knew it even before his hands curled into fists and he closed his eyes to take a deep breath, clearly trying to control himself. 

It wasn’t that different from what Thomas did whenever he considered I had done something to upset him, but there was a stark contrast between what I felt with my boyfriend and what I felt with my best friend: Steve only ever made me feel safe.

There was no doubt in my mind that whatever anger was coursing through his body wasn’t directed at me at all, just like I knew he would rather die that hurt me. Although my boyfriend had never really laid a finger on me, the fear was always there, omnipresent, looking over me.

“Don’t fuck with me, Y/N. You know what I’m talking about. How come you never told me that he’s abusive towards you?” Hearing those words being uttered by the person I cared the most only made the entire situation feel real. 

“It’s not like that…” I started, incapable of looking him in the eye again, but he held my chin and forced me to meet his gaze, so I could see just how serious he was about this situation. And I felt it. I felt it deep in my bones, and I knew there was no way we would step out of this bathroom to the same environment we had previously left.

“Bullshit.” I flinched, not because I was scared of the cold tone he used, but because I knew he was right. And still, I kept trying to find excuses - I don’t think I wanted to absolve Thomas from the role he had assumed in my life, it was more like I didn’t want Steve to think less of me for allowing myself to get trapped in such a situation.

Steve’s P.O.V.

“It wasn’t, though! He never laid a finger on me, I swear.” It was impossible to contain my scoff, no matter how badly I didn’t want to react in such a way to her words. It was impolite and it was rude and she deserved more, but I couldn’t find any way to reel myself in now that this anger had taken over me. Both of us knew we’d have to let it take its course so we could deal with the aftermath, whatever it may be.

“Y/N, you’re smart. You know that abuse isn’t just physical. You know.” She sighed, eyes closing momentarily to recollect herself, and I felt that itch, that urge that always spiked up whenever she was around, that just begged me to touch her, to feel her warmth under my fingertips in some way. 

Only this time I didn’t try to contain it - telling myself that this is what she needed to find comfort, to find the courage necessary to get this out. So I pulled her to me, wrapping a hand around the back of her neck and holding her head to my chest as the other went to her back, rubbing soothing circles there.

“It’s just… I don’t know how to end it, Steve. I-I hate to admit it, but... I’m scared.” The thought of her being anything near uncomfortable because of an asshole like that boyfriend of hers just made my blood boil. And she noticed, because there was the distinct sound of my teeth grinding as I moved my hands to hold her hips perhaps a little more tightly than I should.

“You shouldn’t be scared of anything. First of all, you’re an amazing agent and I know you can hold your own in any type of situation, much less anything involving an idiot like him. Second, if you feel like you can’t do this, for whatever reason, you know you can always count on us. At least, I hope you know you can always count on me.”

When she looked up at me, nodding enthusiastically while trying to blink away the tears that she didn’t want me to see, I was all at once taken over by the reality of my feelings for her. In that moment, nothing else existed, just me and her and this overwhelming need to make her feel good again, to remind her of how great love can actually feel if you’re with someone who would do anything for you.

So without even considering what I was doing, I cradled one side of her face and started to lean in, my heartbeat picking up as I watched her realize what was going on and close her own eyes in expectation. But before I could fulfill all of those late-night dreams I’d had about me and her, just before I learned what her lips felt like, I felt her hands on my chest, signaling me to stop.

“Steve…” She started, and I closed my own eyes, waiting for a simple no and expecting something even worse, expecting her to run from me and never look my way again, fearing I’d managed to absolutely ruin what I cherished most in the world: our friendship. “Steve, if you do thi- if we do this, I’m not letting you go,” she murmured, and the shock from the unexpected words had my eyes widening abruptly. 

“W-What?” I had to be sure, I had to be 100% sure that she had in fact said what I hoped not to have imagined. Could it be that she wanted me too?

“Don’t kiss me if you don’t mean it,” she urged, and I swear, my heart fucking stopped. How could she even consider that I would ever feel anything less than the most pure and profound love for her?

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Desire flowed through me in such a way it made me tremble. I’d dreamt about this, about having Steve and being his for so long, it was hard to believe he had actually wanted to kissed me. He’d wanted to kiss me, in a cramped bathroom, with my boyfriend a few feet away from us, and I had to know why. I just needed to know if this meant something more than pity or an effort to get me to leave Tom.

My lips were still tingling from the proximity of his when Steve leaned down to finally capture my lips with his, his full body pushing me against the bathroom counter until I could feel every single hard muscle of his pressed tightly against mine.

“Don’t you dare doubt my feelings for you,” he whispered when he allowed me a break to catch my breath, and in the silence that followed his statement, I knew everything in my life would never be the same.

“Kiss me again,” I implored, already pulling him to me by the back of his neck, and he came without any hesitancy. His lips were soft and pillowy and I couldn’t believe I now knew what my best friend tasted like.

It was clear the Steve was trying very hard to control himself and keep his touches as soft as possible, probably fearing that he would hurt me or scare me away, but when in his effort to feel every inch of me he inadvertently pressed his hard cock against my stomach, the strangled sound he released had me deciding I needed to break him then and there.

“Just… One second…” He asked, eyes closed while he tried to calm down his breathing, but I was already reaching for his zipper. At the feeling of my hand rubbing his boner, his eyes snapped open, meeting mine to find out that I was just as desperate for him as he was for me.

“No, don’t stop. I need you, Steve. I need you to remind me what it feels like to be desired again.” Although it wasn’t necessarily my intention, it was clear that even if I did manage to get through to him, it also rekindled a particular aggressive feeling I wasn’t expecting to see at that moment.

“I can’t imagine not desiring you…” he commented, fingers leisurely caressing my face until they curled around my jaw. “But knowing that someone had you and still didn’t seize the opportunity to give you every single thing you’ve ever wanted...”

I gasped when he easily hoisted me on the bathroom counter, my fingers thankfully still able to act towards my intentions even if my mind felt hazy with everything that was going on. While Steve peppered kisses down my neck, I managed to curl my fist around his girth, both of us gasping at the action, albeit for very different reasons. He was probably not expecting me to be able to reach his member without him noticing it - underestimating just how enthralled he’d become by my skin and my reactions - but my delight came from the size of the cock I now held in my hand.

Of course, I’d expected Steve to be big - bigger than most, even. That much was understandable, considering he was, after all, a super soldier. But even in my wildest, dirtiest dreams,  when I’d lay in my bed at night and imagine what it would be like to have him by my side, did I imagine he’d be this big.

“You’re so big,” I ended up exclaiming, against my better judgment, because just as I predicted, Steve stopped nipping on my collarbones to meet my eyes, clouds of worry clear in his.

“We don’t need to do this right now.” The only answer I could give him was to roll my eyes at the stupidity of that statement. He didn’t need to remind me that I didn’t have to do anything I didn’t want to, but to think that I would waste this opportunity was truly ludicrous.

“You underestimate just how badly I want this,” and I squeezed his member so he’d know I was referring to it, and not only to the act that I longed to partake in with him. “I’m not leaving this bathroom until I’ve taken every single inch of you.”

Steve whined from the back of his throat at my words, and a dopey smile certainly took over my face just before he leaned over me to ravish my lips with his mouth. “And here I was, thinking you were an innocent little angel.”

Giggling, I pushed him away just enough so I could jump back on the floor. “I’m certainly nowhere near innocent, but I’ll let you call me angel if you want to.” Each new groan I earned from Steve only served to increase both my desire and my ego, so I dropped to my knees without any other sort of preamble, surprised when his hands covered mine on his member, urging me to look at him.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you want this?” Steve chuckled, thumb running over my bottom lip as I stared up at him with what I was certain to be at least a slight pout. In my fist, his cock throbbed, warm and heavy, begging for my mouth to be wrapped around it. His own hand, still covering mine, squeezed the member, as if reminding me of just how hard he was.

“How could you even ask me that?” Fluttering my eyelashes at him, I sucked his thumb just to add to my already pretty convincing reasoning, enjoying the way his mouth fell open at the feeling of just how warm mine was.

Steve’s P.O.V.

“Then why won’t you let me help?” She whined when she finally released my thumb, and I had to take a deep breath just to remain in full control of my own body. God, how I wished I could fulfill all of my desires at once. Of course, I longed to feel her pretty lips wrapped around my member, but if I closed my eyes and even thought about it, I knew I’d cum on the spot.

“It’s not fair,” I began explaining, reaching out to pull her up by her forearms. “I’ve been dreaming about tasting your pussy for so long, you have no idea.” Her eyes closed with a happy sigh as she felt my breath on her face again. I took advantage of being this close to take her lips on mine once more, but she wouldn’t let me forget about the hard, pressing matter between us, and she kept slowly jerking me off.

“Besides…” I whispered when I needed to pull away from her lips to pant, thanks to her ministrations on my member. “I’m aching for you.” That earned me a mischievous smirk from the woman in my arms. Before I could even question it, she had already turned around, bent over the counter and pulled the skirt of her dress up, exposing her panties-clad pussy to me.

“Just pull it to the side and get in me.” Fuck. This was it, this is how I was going to die. Hypnotized, I reached out to trace her outer lips, easily visible through the ruined cotton thanks to her wetness. It made her moan, holding tighter onto the marble before looking back over her shoulder to watch me as I slowly moved the fabric away.

Bit by bit, I fed her my cock, moving at a snail’s pace mostly because it felt like I’d tear her in two if I decided to abruptly bottom out inside of her. “Was this what you wanted?” I asked, still transfixed by the sight of her pussy so hungrily accepting my cock, especially when I reached around her to stimulate her clit and ease it in.

“Yes.” The way she said it, the wrecked state that was so clear in her voice, had me looking up to meet her eyes and finding her staring back at me with nothing but need. 

“You’re so ready to be ruined, huh?”

“By you. Only if it’s by you.” A shiver went down my spine at the combination of her words and the feeling of my first thrust into her. It felt delicious, so overwhelmingly tight that I automatically thrusted into her again, then again and again.

“Yes,” she moaned again, bracing herself on the counter, and with that last confirmation I started to move frantically in and out of her, desperate to bring her the pleasure she’d been denied for so long. Desperate to possess her in the way I’d always dreamed to do.

It was like nothing I’d imagined. It was a thousand times better, to be this connected to the woman I loved, the woman I’d longed to have for so long. Everything was so intense, heightened even further by the power of the emotions flowing through me, that I felt tears rising to my eyes at the thought of this being it, this being the only time I’d get to have her like this - despite whatever reassurances she tried to give me before we kissed. I needed to hear it again.

“Tell me you want me. I need to hear that you need me just as much as I need you,” I begged, a hand curled over her throat as I pulled her body away from the counter and against my chest. “Promise me this isn’t just a one time thing, that you’re not going to leave this bathroom and go back to him after we’re done.”

This time, when our eyes met, it was through the mirror, and I could see the love in mine reflected back in hers, calming my anxieties instantly. “I want you, Steve,” she confided, and I believed her. Of course I believed her. “I want only you, Steve. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”

Then I allowed myself to become fully immersed in her, taking in the smell of sex that had flooded the tiny bathroom, the sounds of our animalistic coupling reverberating off the walls.

“You’re so beautiful,” I groaned when I found myself enthralled by the image looking at me from the mirror, her lips open and bruised, indentations from my teeth in them. She looked exactly how I described, ruined, and it was all because of me. “Do you see this? Look at yourself, c’mon.”

The hand that remained around her neck while I pounded her tightened slightly, only enough to startle her into obeying me. “See?” I questioned, eyes meeting hers in the mirror, while my other hand went around her body to play with her clit again. “So damn hot.”

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I could barely recognize the image staring back at me, with her messy hair and glossy eyes, the satisfied look in her face enough to get me even more aroused. Behind me, Steve kept his harsh thrusts while looking at the scene we both created, his hand choking me slightly. 

“How do you think he’d react if he saw just how deeply I’m fucking you?” The question caught me by surprise. For a second, I couldn’t even understand who was the “he” Steve was talking about. It felt like I was his already. Anyone else was merely a secondary character in our story.

His voice was thick as he continued to taunt the man that was still waiting for me outside, the man I’d completely forgotten about ever since Steve kissed me. “How do you think he’d react if he saw just how deeply I’m fucking you? Do you think he’d cry?”

I honestly didn’t know - and didn’t want to think about it. All I knew was that tears were falling down my cheeks from how brutally Steve was ramming me, making me lean away from his chest and brace myself on the counter again. 

I barely had the time to warn him that I was cumming, because as my mouth opened to say something,  my pussy was already milking him for his own orgasm. I felt his spent painting my insides, warming me up, a physical reminder that this entire moment was, in fact, very real.

My eyes caught my reflection and once more I was taken by surprise by the figure that stared back at me. There was absolutely no denying I’d been roughly fucked, and even if the state of my dress or the mess in my hair didn’t give that away, the satisfied expression in my face made it very clear.

I closed my eyes only for a second, trying to calm down my breathing and figure out where to go from here, but almost immediately, Steve’s fingers were tightening around my hips, calling for my attention.

“Don’t fall asleep on me, sweetheart.” His deep chuckle elicited one of my own, but since his cock was still nestled deep inside of me, the reverberations running through my body ended up turning it into a moan. “Fuck, I don’t want to leave this pussy to deal with that one, but I really should.”

My eyes widened as I realized what he was saying. “You… You’d really do that for me?” He was okay with talking to Tom so I wouldn’t have to look at him, fear his reaction as I announced we were done?

I knew it was weak of me, but I was vulnerable at that moment. I needed this support, as cowardice as it may seem. And Steve understood it apparently, if the way he kissed my neck to relax me was any indication.

“I’d do anything for you. Dealing with that man will be more of a personal pleasure… I don’t make any promises about his physical integrity when I’m done with him, though.” I thought back to some hard memories that I’d have to carry with me due to my relationship with Tom, and I found that I was sincerely okay with whatever it was that Steve would do to him.

Seeing Steve prepare to leave me was hard, though. Having him inside of me, having his warm presence left me feeling safe and supported. Knowing I’d have to be without him, at least for a few minutes, made me cold. 

It was like he knew it, because just before leaving, he turned around to look me in the eye and confirmed, “Meet you back in my room?” That had me opening up a smile to him, nodding in excitement. And I couldn’t resist teasing him one last time, hopefully leaving some interesting thoughts to get him back to me as soon as possible.

“I’ll be waiting on all fours.”

[insufferablelust]

Little Butterfly I (Sugar Daddy Mob Boss!Spencer Reid x Reader AU)

Warnings: Part 1 of an ongoing series (that i hopefully won’t abandon), Upcoming heavy violence, Mafia and Crime related fic, Spencer is a soft dom but is dangerous, HEAVY SMUT, upcoming dark kinks (Gun,Knife,Bondage etc), daddy kink for sure, Manipulation kink, Degradation, Humiliation (yknow the drill with me) spoiling kink?, upcoming murders etc, heavy topic regarding mental illness, College legal age!Reader, Age gap, older!Spencer, Mean!Spencer, BDSM themed, Indication of Subspace, Just heavily dark smutty series (yet again lmao) 

Hello, my wonderful readers, i want to thank you all for the patience you all have for this series, hopefully i can stick to schedule an update this once a week like Thrilled. This will be a new territory for me since all i know about mafia and such are from the movies and countless books my father has inherited me with, so i deeply apologize if there’re some mistakes, this is an AU that means its only a story and fantasy. If you are uncomfortable to violence and sex then PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS. Thank you, and Happy Reading. 

This series will set around the 80′s New York.

MASTERLIST HERE

There is no hiding from the absolute luxury you indulge in, in fact you love showing it to whoever might want to pry deep enough into your life. You caused no harm by it, and it certainly isn’t anybody’s business but yours and his.

The pair of arms around your waist is a certain remainder of who you belong to, and you loved it. He looked good tonight, almost too good with the suit adorning his perfection like an absolute genius adonis— your genius adonis. You feel your cheeks heats up slightly as he glanced at you, knowing just how shy you get around so many people— his little girl is sensitive after all.

Spencer Reid knows every little thing about you, what makes you tick, what makes you snap, what makes you bow in submission to him, and what makes you feel heavenly. He knows it all, he knows the way you trembled slightly whenever he wrapped his arms around your neck as he leaned down to kiss you, or how squirmy you get whenever he tug your hair, said your name calmly whilst shoving his fingers into your mouth— he knows everything.

—

It was a mutual agreement at first, living on 80’s New York has never been so stressful during your 20’s, all the student loans, the bartending you do sometimes, even the couple of scandalous photoshoots you sacrificed yourself doing to keep your bank account afloat. Your family never really cared much, and the only person that you truly have is Emily, your roommate.The whole ordeal was strange when you found out Emily’s ties to the mafia, being the daughter of one of the strongest mafia’s capo on America during that time. You wondered how on earth she has managed to doesn’t want to get on her father’s good side, and just except the riches that comes along with being a mob, but then again you were a stranger to it too...or so you thought.

The night she asked you to accompany her to meet her father and his boss, you shrugged and said yes, having nothing to do in the apartment other than wallowing in your own debts and sadness— you immediately agrees which put a smile on her cute face.

“I thought you didn’t want nothing to do with your father.” You asked as you raked through the closet to find something... ‘elegant’ but not too much, it’s going to be in a lavish restaurant after all. Your eyes darted to Emily’s who has been staring at her phone, smiling to whoever is texting her— you could only assumed it was one of her secret girlfriend-hookup for the week.

“Well i didn’t but money is tight, fucking inflation.” She looked up for once, lips hanging open at the sight of you standing there in a black dress, short with a slit on the thigh area— looking absolutely ravenous. “Holy fucking shit.” Emily whispered.

“What? is this enough? god i feel like such a prude.” You bit your lip as you await her comments, “You look fucking gorgeous you idiot, i mean are you sure you aren’t gay by any chance?” She laughed, which caused you to giggle, “I never said i’m not gay.. just that i’m not—

“Interested in dating, yeah yeah but we can at least fuck or something.” She jokingly raised her eyebrows as you throw your bra her way and laughed, “I just don’t want to get distracted em, especially that we live together.” You pouted before giving her a kiss on the cheek, which made her roll her eyes and smile.

Only if you knew what this meeting will entails.

—

The wine tasted exquisite on your tongue, the sweet burn of merlot was pleasant on the base of your throat which shocked you at first— maybe you should stop buying cheap wines, because the real ones are heavenly. You looked around nervously, it has been a long time since you’ve gone out to have dinner, let alone one as expensive as this.

“Stop looking like you’re about to die.” Emily whispers as she took the seat next to you, which you humorously giggle and swat her shoulder, “I’m not. It’s just.. new to me is all.” You nervously chuckled, before sipping on your wine some more. It was clear that her dad and his so called mob boss were late— which you rolled your eyes since Emily was basically rushing your make up, you just hoped that you looked decent enough, not that you want to impress anyone, its just good to feel like you’ve fit yourself to the occasion.

“Oh, you’ll get used to it.” Emily chuckled, before you could even process what she meant by that the sound of a soft elderly timbre rang through your ears, “Cara mia! Jesus, you’ve grown!” Emily slapped your thigh softly, gesturing for you to stand up.

Dear heaven, lord save your knees from buckling.

You watched as Emily greeted her father as you stood by her side, she kisses him on both cheeks as they made a small conversation that you pay no mind to since you were distracted, distracted by the pair of eyes that caught yours from the moment he walked in.

A soft yet stern eyes that held yours captive at this very moment, a presence that demands every single person for its attention, and intimidating like no other. A man, a finely sculpted man, standing in front of you in an attire that you were sure was more expensive than your whole closet, His soft looking curls marvelously falls fo his side, his plump lips were begging to be kissed— to be listened, to be heard, his tall lean figure towers over you which has you gulping down nervously— so much so that you failed to acknowledged the presence of Emily’s father calling your name.

“Y/N!” You let out a gasp before turning to shake Emily’s father’s hand, trying your best to smile as you glanced over the towering man, “So this is the Y/N i’ve heard so much about huh?” The old man snickered, looking gentle whilst maintaining a facade still. You giggled softly, “I hope there are all good things, nice to meet you Mr.Prentiss.”

“Oh please, Robert is fine. Oh Emily, Y/N this is don Reid.” He stepped back in.. what looks like an utter fear, you gasped as you realized that this is.. the mob boss Emily talked about, the masochistically handsome man you’ve been staring at— you thought a mafia boss would be someone older, but this is certainly not the case.

“Pleased to meet you both, Spencer Reid.” He extended his hand which Emily gladly took before she nudges your side whilst you were still gawking at the man, the soft yet deep timbre of his voice soothes and intimidate you at the same time, not to mention how he carries himself— practically saying he’s a god.

“Oh— um yes hello, pleased to meet you, i’m Y/N.” You bit your lip as you feel your cheeks hurt from the embarrassment, shaking his hand quickly— before you could even imagine pulling away, he gives you an amused chuckle and squeeze your hand tightly before releasing you.

“Well, let’s take a seat shall we?”

You are so fucking fucked.

--

“So, Y/N, Emily told me you’re majoring in art department, how’re you liking it?” Robert spoke as you eat your pasta slowly, trying not to show how you were trembling under the very same gaze that held you captive from the moment it arrives here. You gulped down a delicious bite of pancetta, before answering, “Oh i love it, always been my passion— well painting is, but i do love everything about art and literature.” You chuckled.

“I would love to see your art sometimes.” The voice could strangle you and you’d die happily, it really could— you glanced at the man whose been looking at you like a wolf to its prey, fingers skimming over the feet of the wine glass as a soft yet eloquent smile strikes over his face.

“Oh um, it’s not— it’s not that good, i wouldn’t want to waste your time.” You choked on your wine, feeling the burn on your throat as he let out a humorous-less laugh, shaking his head, before bringing his lean fingers to his lips. “Nothing is wasteful, not if it comes to such art like you.”

What?

“Huh?” You felt small, your cheeks heated at the reference as you tried so hard not to squirm and praised yourself by hearing what you thought you heard. Your eyes darted to his in a shy manner as he kept his composure well, licking the rim of his glass before sipping his wine gently.

“Anyways! dad, shall we talk a bit more private? i’m sure Y/N can keep the don company.” You gasped at Emily’s words, still barely grasping the previous encounter— the bottom of your heel jab at her left foot, as you glared at her, “Of course of course, don?” Robert spoke up, eyes lowering as his body turned to look at the smirking masterpiece that still stares at you with the same intensity.

“Go. We’ll be fine, won’t we angel?” You gulped down as much wine as you could without burning your throat before smiling nervously, eyes glancing back and forth to The Don and Emily.

“Y-Yes um sure.” You offered a gentle smile, even though your heels jabbed Emily’s which yet again resulted in her tiny laugh before she walks away to the back area of the restaurant.

The area was thick with intensity and glamorous lights, adding to the headache that already starts due to you being a lightweight around alcohol. Suddenly you realized, that you’re practically alone— with the don of the biggest mafia ring in America. “Go ahead and ask me the question.” He murmured sternly, causing your ears to perk at the sudden thrill that made your goosebumps rose and thrived under the shimmering lights.

“Pardon?” Your fingers fiddled with the hem of your dress as you tried so hard not to stare at the huge man, feeling as if you’re being cornered by a lion, and you his prey.

“Your cheeks are warm aren’t they? you keep biting your lips every time i muttered a word, you can’t even look at me because you know that the second you do, you wouldn’t be able to stop. Emily is right, you’re a pure little thing, its fucking cute really. If this table weren’t here separating us, you’d be across my lap already— for wearing something so slutty like that.” By the time he finishes taunting you, you stopped breathing, thigh squeezing against each other so tightly that you could feel how damp your panties are getting.

“Go ahead and ask, doll. Surely you can’t be dumb enough to think i would just allow anyone to meet me let alone a little college student like you.” His eyebrow lifted, as you nervous squirmed on your seat and breathed out.

“Why did you asked her to bring me?”

“Nicely. You know better, Y/N.”

“Sir...”

—

And the rest was history, the pair of arms around your waist tighten as the owner’s lips caress and nip at the very sensitive part of your neck, causing you to shudder and mewls. “mmh.. t-too early.” You complained, fully knowing that would only amuse him even more.

He chuckled as you had predicted, nimble fingers grazing up and down your front like feathers, delicately worshipping every inch of your skin. The blaring sound of New York’s traffic was prominent, but somehow that adds a thrilling aspect for you, months ago— you were picking up morning shifts by now, working your ass off just to gain enough cash to pay this month’s rent. But now, here you are, in the arms of the most feared yet young powerful don in the entirety of the mob community, Heck if everyone knows who he is and how much power he holds— they’d all fear him, but not you, not his fiery little butterfly.

“Shh, let me love on you a little.” Your heart warmed, familiar feeling of a thousand butterflies swarming on your belly caused your cheeks to warmed at the gesture. He said things like those often, though he made it perfectly clear that you were, you are only here for business arrangements, you knew he likes to toy over affection like this— one you aren’t supposed to get attached to. But how couldn’t you? when his hand so softly glides down the curve of your godly features, warm breath fanning across your skin from behind, whispering sweet words.

“Look so pretty for me, butterfly.” He whispered, causing you to yet again whimpers, hand clutching the sheets tightly as he moves down down down until he turned you over and settle between your legs, smiling at you. “If heaven is real, you’re definitely it.” He nipped and bit the exposed skin of your thighs, last night and the night before and before still there but like he said,

“If you agree to the terms, i’ll give you every damn thing you fucking want. Your bills, rents, loans, plus each and every single thing you wished to buy.”

“And in retur—“

“In return, you will be mine, mine to have whenever wherever i want, you won’t be my chained slave or nothing, but you’ll be mine.”

So marked you again and again he did, tearing your satin panties he did, panties that cost more than a week worth of luxury meal that he only grunted with “I’ll buy the whole fucking store, now shut up and let daddy eat his breakfast.”

You swore you’re in god’s heaven then and there, even if you aren’t sure that you believe in one, you can’t help but to think that this is some kind of miracle, your life is, here you have a perfect adonis, suckling on your clit as his fingers pump your delectable cunt in and out with such a fast pace that made you feel all floaty and flustered. The same man that commands the room whenever he walks in, the same man who pay all your bills, the same man who bought you a new lavish apartment and hands you gifts every damn day.

“Oh! oh please daddy right there..” You moaned out loud as your fingers latched onto his hair, softly tug on them as he moaned against your drippy cunt and suck your clit even harder,earning a particularly loud and lewd moan from you. “mmh! a-ah! i’m gonna—“ He held his finger up then, eyes finding yours as his mouth continues to work on your now sensitive clit. Spencer wasn’t too strict or nothing about your rules but if there’s two that he’s strict about is for you to cum only if he gives you permission— no matter the place or time, if he wants you to cum, you’ll cum— not that it’s hard, with someone as skilled as him.

When you begged and begged, he slapped your thigh only to grunt darkly, “If you can’t shut up and let daddy enjoys this, i’ll fucking take you on the balcony and fuck you for all Manhattan to see. Do you want that, Butterfly? want everyone to see what a filthy college girl you are getting fucked by someone as dangerous as me?” He slapped your cunt then, over and over again as you pant, and mewls.. Body jolts and pulsed at his ministration.

“You’re going to cum like this—“ He paused to spit directly onto your swollen clit, watching it wet the sensitive nub, “Going to cum with daddy slapping your greedy little cunt. Or you are not getting an orgasm.”

“Yes, daddy— oh!” True to his words, he spank you, over and over again, leaving you quivering and brokenly cried at the burning pleasure, “Cum princess, come on, you surely know how to thank daddy don’t you?” Your hole clenched around nothing as you arch your back and sobbed,

“Can’t— daddy please i-“

“You were so fucking desperate to cum, why not now huh? your sensitive cunt surely looks wrecked enough.” He scoffed before he spank your clit so hard you jumped at the sensation before he licked his fingers and caress your clit in fast fanning motion, not giving you enough time to even breathe as your cunt pulses and throb with overwhelming need of release, building up up up, up until you finally trembled and cum all over the bed— an orgasm so intense that you blacked out for few seconds straight.

“Shh.. shh good girl, that’s it— fuck you look so ethereal like this, butterfly.” He muses as he settle his head on your lap and admire your pulsing body, “T-Thank- y-you.. daddy.” You gathered all the strength you have left as he smiled proudly.

Your head laid on his chest as you both cuddle in silence, trying to enjoy the serenity and calm environment around you as the city below you buzzed all round. It was calming for awhile before his phone rang and you involuntarily sighs, “I know pretty girl, i know.” He muttered, before smiling apologetically- Not that he needs to.. Business arrangements, not like you’re his girlfriend or nothing.

love on you,

love on you,

let me love on you,

You forced your fuzzy subby mind to get the thoughts out, as you watched his figure put on his robe, and leaned down, “I’ll be back later okay, don’t forget to check your phone.” He kissed your forehead for a bit, letting it linger as you held back your tears, wishing he could stay with you, you need your daddy, you really really do need him now. Feeling all small and fuzzy like this. But with the blaring noise of his ringtone, you knew the don has business to take care of and of course you’re not important enough to held such important task to be left.

So you smiled all nicely and kissed all the rings finger on his fingers before bidding a tiny whimper of, “Best of luck, don.” Your head bowed a little in respect as he noticed the true and true sadness flashed across your eyes, but paid it no mind as his other burner phone blared.

“Thank you, Butterfly. Get dressed soon, and i’ll have Morgan bringing you that sandwich from the deli you love so much. I’ll see you soon.”

Oh how nice would it be if this is your life, but life doesn’t always have a happy ending after all.

——

Comment or send me a message if you want to be added to this series taglist!

[odaatlover]

You say you don’t like to kink shame and then immediately after saying that kink shame domkat shippers. I really don’t see the harm in it. Just because it’s not something you’re into doesn’t mean it’s gross. Hell I don’t like gp shit I think it’s weird but I don’t tell you not to read it..

This is going to be very long, so bare with me!

Have you ever had a friend that you had a really special connection with? Maybe even a best friend. You don’t have romantic feelings for each other and maybe even see each other as something like siblings, but your relationship is incredibly special. But your friends and family constantly say things like “Oh are you two going to get together?” Or, “You would make a great couple!” Or maybe even, “It’s obvious that you two like each other. Just get together already!” Maybe you’ve come out as a lesbian and your best friend is a guy and people are constantly making these remarks to you, which invalidates your sexuality. Or you and your best friend are both queer and everyone is trying to get you two together, even though you’re like sisters. Suddenly you find yourself feeling self-conscious whenever you hug your friend because you don’t want people to take it the wrong way, so you pull back. Your friend asks you if you want to go see a movie together but — even though you really want to — you decline because people might see that as a date and get even more persistent with their adamant persuasion. You slowly stop commenting on each other’s social media posts with things such as “I love you!” or “You look gorgeous!” Because you know that it’ll only fuel the fire, and instead decide to keep it professional. And then one day, one of you gets into a relationship, but the comments don’t stop. Instead they’re even more heated with things like “You don’t really love this person you’re with, we all know you really want (best friend).” And your actual relationship is constantly being insulted because people don’t want you with that person, they want you with your best friend whom you don’t have any romantic feelings for. Over time each passing comment chisels away at your friendship with your best friend because of the distance you’ve been forced to give in order to show people that you don’t like each other in that way, until one day there’s just nothing left. You’ve completely drifted because the wedge that all of these people created by shipping you two together has completely destroyed the friendship.

This is what DomKat shippers are doing, but on a much greater scale. It’s not only comments being made, but also writing fanfiction where they have sex with each other. Can you imagine people writing stories about you and your friend (one that you see like family) having sex with each other? Or editing photos of you kissing? Can you imagine how uncomfortable that would make both of you feel to the point where any sort of physical contact with each other now feels too awkward? I mean, Kat is married. Can you even imagine how that makes her feel when these “fans” make stuff like that and TAG her in it so that when she unsuspectingly clicks on the post she sees it? Kat and Dom have asked the fans to stop creating these works, and especially to stop tagging them in it. And to continue to do so is making a statement that says “I don’t care what you want or that it makes you uncomfortable because I enjoy it and therefore will continue to do it.” It also tells Kat that these “fans” dont see her marriage as valid. And it tells Dom that the same thing will happen if she gets into a relationship so she should try to hide it as much as possible.

It’s already affecting their friendship. Have you noticed that in the beginning of the show they were more comfortable being close to each other during panels and interviews? Holding hands for support, giving hugs, giving compliments — things you do with your close platonic friends — and now they don’t do it nearly as much? It’s because of DomKat shippers making them feel uncomfortable doing those things because it gives them fuel to continue shipping them. The level of blatant disrespect for these two people who have poured their heart and soul into giving us the queer female representation we’ve been asking for is just appalling. These aren’t fans. And I can guarantee you that Kat and Dom don’t see these shippers as fans, but rather selfish people who are slowly destroying the fandom.

Shipping these two actresses together isn’t a “kink”, it’s an invasion of privacy, and you better believe that I’m going to call those people out on it. Just like I would call out anyone else who ignores someone’s plea to not be involved in something and continues to do it anyways. And if that’s kink shaming, then quite frankly some kinks should be shamed when they are harmful to another person. If shipping two people together who have asked you not to and have told you that it’s negatively affecting their lives is your “kink”, then I strongly urge you to check your morals, and to also do some internal reflection to figure out why the fictional world where Nicole and Waverly exist isn’t enough for you and you feel the need to bring it into the real world, ultimately crossing the boundaries that have been set by the actresses.

I know it’s just a small portion of the fandom (thank god) but even one DomKat shipper is too many. And you may be thinking, “Well I’m just reading and looking at the stuff I don’t create it, so that’s okay because how will they know I’m even looking at it?” It’s not okay. You are helping fuel the fire by giving these works attention, which encourages the author to create more and makes them feel like what they’re doing is okay, when it’s not. Again, it’s disrespecting their wishes and consent, and you’re doing something they’ve made very clear that they didn’t want — whether you’re creating it or just enjoying the creations. YOU are a part of that.

If after all of this you still don’t think there’s anything wrong with creating/enjoying DomKat content and will continue to do it, then please take some more time to reflect on why you believe crossing the boundaries Dom and Kat have asked fans not to cross isn’t wrong.

[awanderingdeal]

Never too late - 8

An eternity later and it is here! Part 8 of 'Never too Late'. How much of this is me projecting? You'll never know.

CW: Food, alcohol, feelings of queer exclusion at prom, coming out, [very minor and it is shut down] compulsory sexuality.

Please message me if you feel I missed anything out.

Just a note, that due to the POV of this fic, there is a lot of linking between relationships and romance to prom. I just want to reiterate that prom absolutely does not have to be a romantic event if you do not want it to. The beef is more that queer kids do not always have the choice to go with their partners safely, and the stress of not knowing whether it would have been okay or not.

I hope that all of you that wanted to were able to have the prom you wanted and if you weren't able to, please know it is just ONE day. Throw your own if you want to. Don't if you don't want to. I know for myself, I have a lot of feelings about it, so please don't read this if it going to upset you.

Rating: T

Previous and future chapters can be found on my masterlist.

All credit for Sweater Weather and these characters go to @lumosinlove

8. Go to a dance. Kiss your first love. Well, at least you think they are anyway. But remember kids, consent always.

Leo was excited, to say the least. Sprawled on his bed, laptop in front of him and his cell to the right, he knew it was getting late, but he wanted to research a little longer. He had a venue and a catering team locked down; the latter he had done reluctantly, after yet another person had told him that he absolutely could not cater the event himself.

His phone buzzed insistently, and Leo grunted. Why would anybody call when you could just text? He grunted again when he read the caller id.

Regulus. What a traitor.

“Hello?” Leo answered, rolling onto his back. He felt a tightness in his lumbar region, and made a mental note to mention it to Hestia in the morning if the sensation was still there when he woke up.

“Go to sleep.”

“ I will soon,” Leo hummed. “Did you look at my text?”

“Leo. It’s 2am.”

“Yes, I worked very hard to learn to tell the time, thank you.” In truth, the last time Leo remembered checking the time, it had still been the previous day. Logan had a popped his head around the door to tell Leo that he and Finn were going to crash in one of the other rooms, and that Leo should get some sleep soon. Leo had nodded and assured Logan he wouldn’t be too long.

Regulus’ sigh on the other end of the phone interrupted his memory.

“And you’re getting cranky,” Regulus said. Leo could imagine the smooth raised eyebrow that accompanied the words. “If I tell you which theme I like, will you go to sleep?”

Leo shifted, pushing himself up against the stack of pillows. He nodded eagerly, before remembering Regulus couldn’t see him. “Yes. I promise.”

“I like both -”

“That is not helpful!”

“Wait a second. Merde. You should combine them.”

“That’s,” Leo wrinkled his nose, contemplating the idea. “That’s actually kind of genius.”

“You can thank me later,” Regulus offered smugly. “After you’ve got some sleep.”

***

“So Reg, who’s the lucky person who gets to be your date to this thing?” Finn asked, plucking a brownie from the plate in the middle of the table, before settling into the seat opposite Leo.

“It’s not a thing!” Leo protested.

“Sorry, babe. This prom,” Finn grinned.

Regulus worried his lip between his teeth, looking first at Leo and then turning his gaze back to Finn. “Do I have to go with someone?”

“Yes,” Finn said resolutely, at the same time as Leo shook his head, giving the opposite answer.

“No,” Leo repeated, narrowing his eyes at Finn. “People go to prom with friends all the time.”

“Okay, yeah, fine. You don’t have to,” Finn agreed, giving a placating smile. Leo hated that it worked. If he were being honest, they should probably utilise the O’Hara smile in diplomatic relations. “But don’t you want to have the quintessential prom kiss?”

“Finn -”

“I was actually thinking I could borrow Leo,” Regulus rolled his eyes, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Apparently Finn didn't catch it though. His face contorted into a thousand different expressions in the space of a second. Conflicted. Contemplative. Accepting. “Well...I guess I’d be okay with it, if Leo is, but Lo-”

“That was a joke, Finn,” Regulus laughed.

“Oh, right,” Finn laughed as well, the tips of his cheeks tinged pink. “Well. Yeah. Prom kisses are nice. I had sex for the first time on my prom. Although, she did cheat on my two months later, so maybe I’m not the best example to follow,” he rambled.

“That was a lot to learn about somebody in a very short amount of time," Regulus commented, clutching his mug between his hands.

Finn shrugged, leaning forward to grab another brownie, seemingly uncaring about the wealth of information he had just offered.

***

“Hey, Le?”

Leo looked up from his phone, finding Regulus hovering next to him, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He cocked his head slightly in question.

“Can we talk?”

Leo frowned, setting his phone down on the coffee table and patted the seat next to him on the sofa. “You don’t usually ask,” he smirked.

Regulus’ smile back seemed strained, but Leo didn’t comment on it. “Earlier,” Regulus started as he took a seat, playing with the tips of his fingers before he stopped abruptly, placing them in his lap. “In the kitchen? What Finn said?”

Leo sighed gently, “Ignore him. Finn’s mouth and his feet are well acquainted. You know Finn. He just doesn't always think before he speaks. I’m sorry if he upset you.”

“You shouldn’t apologise for your boyfriend. If I wanted an apology I would have gone to him.” ” Regulus chided. His expression softened, his next intake of breath larger than usual. “Can you just listen?”

“Sorry,” Leo turned to look at Regulus properly. “You were saying?”

Regulus gave a small nod. “I don’t think I want that.”

Leo opened his mouth to speak, remembered Regulus’ request and snapped it shut again.

“Not the kisses. Not the sex. None of it. I think I’m asexual” The words came out in a single, hurried burst, but Regulus seemed to stumble over the last one, as if it was unfamiliar to him, unpractised. Leo could picture his friend frantically asking google questions, refining each search as he learned new information. He’d been there himself once.

A silence hung in the air, the two of them staring at one another, with an intensity that was making Leo feel uncomfortable, but he didn't want to be the first to break eye contact.

“Désolé," Regulus blinked. "Say something. Please."

Leo shuffled forward, his arms outstretched. “I’m going to hug you now.” He waited a beat to allow Regulus to protest, before pulling him close. Regulus sat stiffly, taking a moment to relax into the embrace and when he did, Leo squeezed him a little tighter. “Thank you for telling me.”

“I knew you’d be okay with it,” Regulus grumbled. Leo was sure he heard a hint of relief despite the attempt to appear ambivalent. He let Regulus go, putting some space between them again, knowing his friend had more personal space boundaries than Leo was used to dealing with.

“It’s still scary. Even if you’re almost certain it’s going to be alright. And just in case you need to hear it, I love you, you’re valid and even if you decide that’s not the right label for you that’s okay too.”

“What are you? Like, gay Yoda?” Regulus gave a small laugh, but he sniffed wetly. “Thanks.”

“A Jedi uses the Force for knowledge and defence, never for attack,” Leo made a fist, wrapped his other hand over the top and bowed his head.

“Nerd.”

“Wait, can I ask you a question?” Regulus’ consenting nod was slow and tentative. “Does this mean you’d prefer if I stop sending you half naked photos every other day?” Leo let the corner of his mouth curl into a smirk.

Regulus barked a very uncharacteristic laugh, deep and loud. “While I can appreciate the aesthetic appeal of Chris Evans, yes, I’ve seen enough of that man to last me many lifetimes .” He punched Leo lightly in the knee. Leo raised an eyebrow at the very frat - boy inspired action, and Regulus made a face that suggested he wasn’t quite sure where it had come from either. “I’m sure company is not an issue for you in this household, but don’t worry I’ll still watch The Avengers with you.”

“A real hero,” Leo drawled. “Hey.” He met Regulus’ eyes, his tone taking on a more serious note again. “You know you can tell Finn. And Logan, right? If that’s what you want. Whenever you’re ready. They’ll be cool.”

“Yeah,” Regulus breathed. “I don’t doubt it.”

“And if they’re not. I’ll personally kick them in the balls for you.”

***

Leo fussed with his bowtie in the mirror, tilting his head this way and that, trying to decide if it was straight.

“Stop. You look great. They’re going to die,” Regulus declared, making Leo jump slightly. He’d known the man was in the room, but his best friend had a habit of just appearing beside him unannounced.

Leo took another look in the mirror, running his fingers over the slightly raised texture of his initials monogrammed into the teal suspenders. “Yeah, I guess I’ll do,” he hummed, turning to face Regulus, scanning his eyes over him. Even Leo had been surprised by Regulus’ choice of attire, knowing now why he had kept the outfit such a secret. “Bold choice,” he remarked.

“Too much?”

“No,” Leo shook his head. Maybe it would have been on somebody else, but Regulus wore the mustard yellow three - piece effortlessly. He reached out to touch the blue sapphire that embellished the lapel, a gold chain linking it to the breast pocket. “Not at all. I’m just jealous.”

“Alright boys, are we ready?” Alex asked, clapping his hands together.

“Yeah.”

“As we’ll ever be.”

“Ready!” Kuny boomed, making a show of checking his pocket watch, the gold chain attaching it to his vest was somehow, even more ornate than Regulus’.

The four of them turned to glance at Remus, the only one in the room left to reply. Shrugging his jacket over his shoulders, Remus smiled. “I guess I can’t play with this tie any longer.”

“Alright then. I don’t know a lot about you guys, but I want to see my boyfriend,” Alex rocked on his feet, Leo chuckled, the man pretended he was so much more chill than his younger brother, but excitement seemed to bubble under his skin all the same. Leo didn’t blame Alex though, separating the partners into different rooms had seemed like a good idea earlier in the evening, but now he just wanted to see Finn and Logan, ideally before he exploded with anticipation. He couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for those of them that had to wait for their partners to arrive from the Potter’s house, where the ladies had opted to get ready.

“Yes. I want see Jackson,” Kuny nodded resolutely.

“Lord, help me,” Regulus whined. Leo just laughed, wrapping an arm around his friend’s shoulders.

***

“Cap! Stop undressing Loops with your eyes, he put a lot of effort into finding that suit.”

“Kuny. Put Nado down. There are people here.”

“Harzy. Are you crying?”

“You can close your mouth now, Leo.” Regulus tapped a finger lightly against Leo’s jaw. He would have tried to defend himself from the accusation, but he couldn’t deny the quiet clink of his teeth snapping back together.

“I’m just going to need a minute,” Leo mumbled, dragging his eyes over Finn and Logan’s bodies.

“Take your time,” Regulus chuckled. “Is-” Regulus leaned forward, squinting slightly. “Does Finn’s jacket match the invites.”

“I think they’re flowers.” Although, from afar, the swirls of blue and silver painted over the jacket did resemble the night sky artwork the two of them had settled on for the invites. Leo had insisted they needed them despite Regulus’ very valid point that saw all of the attendees at least once a week. “I’m going to go and check,” Leo waved a hand towards his boyfriends. He could see Logan’s lips moving, Finn’s grin widening with each word and Leo wanted in on that conversation.

“Sure,” Regulus hummed. “You go and do that.”

Leo stole a glance behind him as he crossed the short distance of their lounge, feeling a pang of guilt about leaving Regulus so easily on what was supposed to be his night. He needn't have worried though, he had barely taken a few paces before Regulus was swarmed by Thomas and James. Leo huffed a laugh at Regulus' disgruntled expression as they fawned at his suit.

***

“Leo. Regulus. Welcome! These must be your guests.” Estella, the only one of fifteen event planners that he and Regulus could agree on, smiled wide. “Is everybody here? I can always have somebody come and meet any stragglers?”

“No, this is all of us,” Leo confirmed. Corralling everybody into the two limos had been a task, but somehow they had all managed to make it to the museum without anybody being left behind.

“Alright then. Follow me. I think you’re going to love what we’ve settled on.” Estella turned on her heel, tight curls bouncing behind her as she led them up the grand staircase. Leo had been to The Natural History museum many times during the day, but the place had a strange sense of awe without the usual bustle of visitors, and he couldn’t wait to see what the events hall had been transformed into.

Estella pushed the ornate double doors open, blocking the entrance with her body. She must have noticed how Leo’s feet itched with anticipation because she gave a small smirk as she stepped aside. “Enjoy your evening, gentlemen. I’ll be around should you need anything."

Leo looked back at the group behind him; his team, his friends, his family, and felt the pool of anxiety that had been bubbling in his stomach all day, churn again. This evening had started off as being for Regulus, but it had quickly grown beyond that. While prom wasn’t inherently romantic, the traditions that came alongside it were embroiled with ideas that had marginalised so many of them, even if they hadn’t realised it at the time. A part of him hated that a high school event that was truly insignificant in the grand scheme of things could hold so much weight. He wanted to rebel, to not let it be important at all. Another just wanted to be able to give them all the night they had wished for back then.

“What’s the delay?” Natalie’s voice shook Leo from his head, and he glanced to his left at Regulus before moving into the room.

Estella and her team had really come through. They had weaved Leo and Regulus’ ideas on decoration into something spectacular. He had to force himself not to pause again, waiting until he was less of an obstruction to the rest of them, to stop and look up at the ceiling. There were hundreds, maybe thousands, of tiny lights strung to look exactly like the night sky. Right in the centre, Leo recognised the pattern to be that of his namesake, one light slightly brighter than all the rest.

“Hey,” Sirius clapped a hand on Regulus’s shoulder. “How come you get to be up there and I don’t.”

“Can’t stand not to be the centre of attention can you, big brother?” Regulus shot back and Sirius just shook his head with a laugh, hurrying after Remus.

***

“This one is for all you loved up folk out there,” the DJ’s voice rang through the room, the music slowly fading from a thuddy beat into the tender piano notes of the next song.

Leo winced as Marlene squealed, tugging Dorcas from her chair, the latter almost tripping over her train in the rush, although she regained her composure quickly. She moved just as swiftly in her heels as Marlene did in her black and white oxfords. He watched the two of them leave, Dorcas’ emerald green dress almost sparkling as it caught the light.

“Go on,” Regulus nudged Leo, tilting his head in the direction of where Finn and Logan had already procured a spot on the dance floor. “Go dance with your boys.”

Leo glanced at Regulus, before turning his gaze to meet his boyfriend’s eyes. He contorted his features into a series of faces that to anybody else probably seemed nonsensical, but they caught on perfectly, answering his silent question with simultaneous nods of their heads.

“Or,” Leo placed his hand, palm upright, on the table. “You could do me the honour?”

“I’m not,” Regulus wrinkled his nose. “You don’t need to -”

“Indulge me, Reggie.”

“Only if you stop calling me that,” Regulus sighed, grasping Leo’s hand. “I’m leading.”

Regulus, it turned out, could dance. Leo was passable. He let himself be led around the floor, laughing with his friend at all the couples that weren’t quite as accomplished, his boyfriend’s included.

The music flowed seamlessly from the deep tones of John Legend into the lighter ones of Taylor Swift.

“Yes! My girl, Tay Tay. Now we’re talking.”

Regulus rolled his eyes playfully, “Calm down, Le. I think your gay is showing.”

“Okay, Karen.”

“I am wounded,” Regulus clutched his hand to chest, placing it back on Leo’s hip without missing a beat. He looked up, smiling at Leo softly. “You should go and dance with them now. I think they could do with your help.”

“Non!” Logan argued, stumbling over Finn’s feet once again. “I know how to dance. It is Finn who is a liability,” he added, as they came to a halt beside Leo and Regulus.

***

Reg! Did you see Kam sent the link for the photos?

I did. You want to look at them together, non?

Oui, Oui! Come over now?

Leo waited to receive the confirmation text, before he hurried into the kitchen to compile a selection of snacks, as well as a jug of lemon water for Finn. On his final trip, he added the ever-present jug of sweet tea from the fridge to the tray, setting it all up on the table in front of the TV in the lounge.

“Baby Black is coming over then?” Logan teased, sprawling onto the sofa next to Leo.

“Sssh,” Leo whined, pressing a finger to Logan’s lips. “Otherwise no doughnuts for you.”

Logan gasped, launching himself at Leo, his hands finding the spot below Leo’s ribs where he was most ticklish. “How dare you threaten me with such things?”

“Stop it,” Leo spluttered between laughs, squirming away from the assault. Thankfully the doorbell rang just as Leo thought he was going to have to tap out, Logan letting him up to go and answer it.

It took a few minutes to get all four of them settled on the couch and the photos casting from his cell to the TV, but eventually they managed it.

Kam, and their assistant, had done a great job of capturing the entire night, from everybody getting ready to a very drunk James and Evgeni snoring softly against the giant moon structure. James was swamped by Evgeni’s checked suit jacket and James’ pinstripe one hung from Evgeni’s arm.

“Did you three plan this?” Regulus laughed as a photo of Sirius, Logan and Pascal appeared on the screen. The three of them had chosen to go with a classic tuxedo, albeit with slight variations.

“We did not. We just all have impeccable taste,” Logan retorted.

“Oh my God!” Finn sat forward, squinting at the screen. “They definitely planned that though.” He waved at the image of Alex and Kasey, their suits the same but in reverse; Alex’s jacket a navy blue with a checked grey vest and Kasey the opposite.

“Finn babe,” Leo frowned, sliding Finn’s glasses onto his face. “How did you go the entire night without noticing that. Aren’t you supposed to be the fashion connoisseur, here?”

“I was distracted!” Finn protested. “By…” he beamed as a photo of him, Leo and Logan replaced the previous image. “That.”

Regulus faked a gag, swiping at the phone to get a new photo. Any argument that was about to ensue was abruptly ended as they all burst into laughter. On the screen, a sheepish looking Pascal was being berated by Estella, her finger pointing to the sign to the left of the vine covered swing that Pascal was sitting on that read, ‘For decorative purposes only’.

They went through hundreds of photos. Some of them were sweet; Natalie with her arms wrapped around Regulus’s waist pressing a kiss to his cheek. Some of them were silly; everybody sat in rows on the dancefloor, their arms out to side. Some of them staged; Regulus and Leo sat on the big arm chairs beneath the origami stars. All of them captured tiny moments that none of them wanted to forget.

Leo tucked his head against Regulus' shoulder, trying to stifle his tears. He wasn't upset, not at all. It was just a lot. Seeing it all again. And then he remembered that all the decorations had been donated. Most of the woodland pieces, including the huge faux tree that had stood in the middle of one of the tables had gone to a local young theatre troupe that were struggling to finance their show, and the starry night pieces had gone to a group that were organising a Queer prom for the region's high schoolers that maybe didn't feel accepted at their own. For Leo, knowing that young kids like himself could take their prom photos with whomever they wanted, could truly decide whether they wanted to go with friends or their partners without fear, was the best part of all. Regulus wrapped his arm around Leo, pulling him closer.

"Thank you, I had the best prom ever."

[sooghostwriter]

Only on the Weekends

Member/Pairing: Do Kyung Soo x OC (Nameless) Genre/Type: Mature, Romance, AU, smut. Warnings: Sexy times. BJs for days.  Word count: 3758 (Way shorter, think about this chapter as a transition one)

Notes: This story takes please wherever you want. You will see why it would be weird to centered it in Korea.

Also, kindly reminder that this is not Instagram.

Summary: She is saved by a caring man from a little mishappening in the middle of the forest. A small act of kindness turns into seasons of laughs, food, fun, care, love and sex.

Chapter 2

- Autumn –

The change in the weather at the mountain was noticeable. Very windy, still warm during the day, but with cold afternoons. It was the second week since they started dating. In the beginning, she wasn’t sure if that was what they were doing. She thought they were having something close to a friend with benefits relationship. Benefits soon to be established. But Kyung Soo had another idea “I don’t want to be just friends with benefits, I like you, I want to date you.” He said over the phone, voice clear. Serious and confident enough to not leave any space for doubt. She lost her voice and was only able to say “I like that.” Almost inaudible. So, they had a pseudo short distance relationship now.

That week she kept expecting for their weekend a bit more than just some kisses with different degrees of groping. It was about time, at least in her book. That was her aim for the weekend, until that Friday morning. The whole week she planned the sexiest way to come at him, and she had her slutiest underwear ready. But that morning, a familiar feel in her tummy ruined her intentions. She dashed to the bathroom and saw the first spots of her period "Fucking bitch" She cursed at her crutch "I thought we were a team" She rested her head on her knees, controlling her anger. It wasn't her uterus fault nor hers, she just forgot about it, and she wasn't the kind of girl that followed her period. She was over it. She took a shower, put on her menstrual cup, and just surrendered to the idea of not having sex with Kyung Soo that weekend.

It was already dark and quite cold when she arrived. Kyung Soo appeared at his door with a puffy grey hoodie and black pants. He looked so good in black pants. She hugged him tightly, inhaling his scent, feeling again frustrated "Is everything ok?" He asked worried, rubbing her back, his hand reaching a bit too low on her lower back "Yeah, just a bit frustrated...because of work" "Anything I can do to help?" So much, there was so much he could do to help, but she was temporarily out of business. Their dinner was filled with nervousness and playfulness. Over dinner, later as they watched a movie that Kyung Soo had just bought and then over a cup of tea around midnight. It was very easy to laugh with him, banter with him, and flirt with him. She went to bed, the guest room bed, late at night. The next morning, she woke up at dawn, for the first time in her life on a weekend. Kyung Soo was at the kitchen, serving himself a cup of coffee. As soon as he saw her, he gave her his cup and poured himself a new one. He drank his coffee just like hers.

On Saturday Kyung Soo was a bit needier. Touching and kissing her whenever he wanted, sitting very close to her and cuddling on her. She wasn’t the best cuddler. But with Kyung Soo felt nice. Really nice. He was warm, always smelled amazing, and having him in her arms was so very pleasant. When she asked him if he was always this cute and needy, he simply answered, “It’s just that I’m not going to see you for a week” She wasn’t sure if she was still in the missing him face. From Monday to Friday, she was only focused on work and everything related to living in the city. It was only at night that he occupied her whole mind. A couple of texts turned into a call and then it was close to midnight and they were still laughing. But during those times, when she heard his low voice over the phone, she wished she was seating next to him, playing with his short locks of hair. She liked knowing that he was thinking about her at night, she liked imagining that he was doing way more than thinking about her. With that thought, an idea came to her mind. That weekend, she wasn’t available to have sex, that was settled, but there were other ways of pleasure.  Sure, she wasn’t going to get direct action or instant relief. But pleasuring her partner sounded just as enticing. It could be such a nice preview, a bit of teasing for what would come next weekend. It could be playful, intimate, sensual and hopefully unforgettable for him.

After breakfast, she offered herself to help him take care of his garden. She put fertilizer on each flower as he cleaned the weed. Her job was quite simple compared to his, but he still complimented her work. Which felt quite nice. It was always nice watching him work. he was focused, did everything with extreme care, and listened to her attentively, even when he was focused on his task. Also, the whole visual of him working, sweaty nape, furrowed eyebrows, and deep groans. In the back of her mind, she kept wondering how he moaned during sex.

The rest of the day she tried to stop thinking about getting into his pants. Not that she wasn't going to do it, but she felt a bit guilty.

The sun was setting, and after a nice walk with Baekhyun, they went back home for dinner and drinks. She was setting the table ready when his phone rang. He greeted the person on the phone with a bit of indifference, she could hear some complaint on the other side, Kyung Soo didn't react. He kept quiet for a couple of seconds, listening, and when his caller was done talking, he answered with the same indifference "No, you guys can't come" She heard another unintelligible noise "You guys can't come, I'm with my girlfriend and I'm not sharing our time with any of you" Instead of complaints she could hear clear howling sounds, making Kyung Soo chuckle "I'm hanging up" He didn't hesitate when he pressed the red button "Everything alright?" She stood behind him, pulling at his sweater "It was Chanyeol asking to come here with some friends for food and drinks, I told him I was with you" "I heard that, but I don't care if you invite them, I would hate to be the reason you don't get to see your friends" He turned around, holding her by the waist pulling her closer "You aren't, as I told him, I'm not sharing our time together, I can go out with them during the week, my weekends are yours" She could feel her cheeks blush. Maybe what he was saying wasn't the most romantic thing ever, but his words weren't the only way he communicated his ideas or intentions. The earnestness of his eyes and the touch of his hands sometimes said more than his words, and that always made her feel extremely flustered "Then is just us" She whispered, "You like that?" She could learn a bit from Kyung Soo and express herself through actions rather than words. So she pulled him for a kiss, pillowing his lower lip carefully between hers, kissing him slowly. After all, their weekends were only theirs, and they had time to kiss, hug, and touch each other. Maybe a bit more. The romanticism building up in her head and chest was suddenly tainted by other very romantic, yet rowdy needs. With each stroke of his lips, her hips bucked against him, making him held her tighter against his body, deepening the kiss and shallowing their breaths.

Kyung Soo’s hands slid down to her lower back, groping her ass and rubbing his hard-on against her. That took her by surprise. She thought he was going to be a bit more under control, as always. She rolled her eyes and moaned in pleasure, she wasn’t expecting that, but it was everything she wanted. Not today though "Sorry but we are not doing that today" She whispered against his lips, holding his face close. His first instinct was to apologize "No baby, don't apologize, I want to, but I can't do it today, I'm indisposed" He blinked slowly a couple of times until he understood what she meant, giving her a silly expression. He apologized again "Stop, look...we can't have real honest sex today" She caressed his lips with one finger and slid it over his chin, down his neck until she reached his collarbone "But I need to touch you, otherwise I'm going to go crazy, so please, let me touch you today" She put emphasis in the you, making things clear for him to understand. Kyung Soo looked at her incredulous "Just me? " "Just you" She felt his hands moving up her back, settling between her shoulder blades, pulling her to his chest "Hulder, what's your plan?" She rested her chin on his shoulder and whispered very close to his ear what her intentions were and saw with gratification how the tip of his ears went red. She looked at his face and Kyung Soo was looking down, trying to control a smile “What?” “I can’t say no to that” He ended with a short giggle “It’s not too much?” She wanted to make sure that she wasn’t making him uncomfortable or forcing him in some way “No, is not too much” “Then I think you should get comfortable” She whispered as she touched him through his pants, feeling him half hard. He shoved his face into the crook of her neck, releasing a low whimper. She kept rubbing him, already in love with his reaction “Let’s go to my room” He offered, grabbing her hand that was currently playing with his zipper, and pulling her with him to his room.

Kissing him was so distracting. Having him on top of her, kissing her neck, and grunting next to her ear could easily turn into an addiction. She could feel his hard-on rubbing her thigh and she couldn’t wait to have it “Get on your back Kyung Soo” She whispered against his lips “Mhmm, I like it like this” He said with a lopsided grin “You are going to like it more on your back” He chuckled and followed her instructions, falling on his back with a dull sound. Between giggles and muttered words she pulled down his pants and kneeled next to him. He looked at her clearly nervous, as nervous as she was. But his excitement was obvious, she could feel it with her hands as she rubbed his dick over his boxers. She gave him a long last kiss and then dragged her teeth down his neck. His breath hitched as she pulled down his underwear and positioned herself between his legs. She hugged his hips as she kissed her way down his stomach until her lips landed close to the tip of his dick. She didn’t want to be tacky, but it was mouthwatering. Kyung Soo locked eyes with her as she gave the first tentative lick and then let his head fall back, moaning softly.  She felt a sudden rush take over her body. He had given in to her, and she could do what she intended now. As she took him deeper, she caressed up his stomach and then down, enjoying how his muscles contracted under her sensitive fingertips. His skin was hot, smooth, and his smell was already engraved on her memory. She took the base of his cock firmly in one hand, licking the tip and sighing in satisfaction as she could taste a drop of precum. She started slow, sucking him softly and using more hands than mouth. Doing what she could with his size. Having him like that between her lips only made her want him more. It was torture knowing that she couldn’t have him yet. But so far, this was as good. She brushed her lips along his length. Hearing him breathlessly say "Fuck" and "Yes" was the greatest payoff. Kyung Soo was enjoying it, but he wasn’t taking too much part in it. She loved being in charge and controlling his reactions, but she also wanted some action from him. Hands guiding her head and dirty words. She wanted a bit of dominance from him too. She passed her arms under his thighs encouraging him to buck into her mouth. Kyung Soo grunted, loud and deep, making her smile in satisfaction, her mouth full of him. His fingers went through her hair, massaging her scalp. She hummed in satisfaction, and Kyung Soo bucked his hips harder, making her gag “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He apologized immediately, grabbing her head carefully. She let go of him, smiling at his sweet reaction “I’m ok, don’t worry, keep doing that baby” She kissed his hand and took him in her mouth again, bobbing her head up and down as she took him deeper. She put her ass up in the air, getting comfortable, arranging her angle. But also the rubbing of the bed against her lower body was driving her slightly crazy. He called her name between soft moans and lifted his back from the bed, caressing her nape and back “You’re gonna make me come” She lifted her head, finding him face to face. His cheeks and ears were red, eyes half-closed and mouth half-open as he breathed quickly. The view made her chest jump in her chest, enabling her from speaking. She dropped a soft peck on his wet lips and went back to work. He was so hard and so hot, the idea of making him come and having him all for herself thrilled her to the core. Kyung Soo started jerking his hips up to meet her mouth, digging his fingers into the sheets. She wanted to release some of her pleasure. Touch between her legs just to feel some friction, anything that could calm down her pulsating clit, just a little bit. But the idea of building up, of edging over the week until the next weekend sounded so much better. The small fantasy that had just built up in her head made her tighten her grip on his dick and give a slow lick up his length, finishing by placing her lips over the head of his cock, opening them wide to fit him into her mouth, bobbing her head up and down. Faster than before. Sucking harder than before “Fuck!” He cursed again, holding her head “I’m going to come” He said, followed by a long moan. She didn’t say anything, only kept doing what was clearly working for him. He moaned again, with a crack in his voice and she could finally feel him spilling on her tongue. Kyung Soo tried to move away but she stopped him from doing it by holding to his hips, and he didn’t insist.

It was kind of embarrassing how eager she was to have him come in her mouth. She didn’t know where did that need came from, but it was a necessity. Watching him come just for her and because of her was euphoric.

She sighed with satisfaction once her mouth was clean. Kyung Soo was still holding her head, rubbing her temples. His eyes were closed with a soft smile on his lips. His chest moved up and down, as she crawled her way up, falling on top of him. He immediately held her in his arms, tightly, sharing his warmth with her. He called her name a couple of times, still having trouble speaking. She was the same. After a couple of minutes of breathing, soft laughs and a couple of exchanged kisses, Kyung Soo was finally able to speak “You need to go and rinse or something?” “No, I need to go and eat the dinner you were preparing” Kyung Soo turned around, pushing her onto the mattress, and gave her a quick peck on the lips “Let’s go have dinner then…” He didn’t finish his sentence, frowning deeply “What? What happened?” She asked worried, holding his cute face between her hands “I just had a thought, and I can’t say it, is too stupid and…dirty” “Please say it, I love stupid and dirty” She had to beg a couple of times until Kyung Soo was ready to speak “I was going to say, that this was going to be your second dinner, because you…you know” An uncontrollable giggle erupted from her chest, infecting him. He hid his face on her chest as she caressed his hair and celebrated his joke. After dinner, they both took separate showers and went to separate rooms. Sharing his bed was out of the question. She didn’t need more temptations.

Sundays were always a tiny bit sad at Kyung Soo’s place. It was time to go home, and with each weekend they spent together, the harder it was. Also that Sunday, winter gave them a small preview with a very cold and windy day. She didn’t bring the right clothing and it was cloudy, so they stayed inside “It’s a bit of a bummer” Kyung Soo commented, as he stood behind her, hugging her waist “The weather?” “And what it brings” “You don’t like winters?” He shook his head and rested his chin on her shoulder “Winter here is amazing, cold, but beautiful, what I meant is that because of winter, you are not going to wear your denim shorts and summer dresses anymore” She turned her face, bumping her nose with his. She was surprised by his sentence. She didn’t know she liked them, although she did wear them with that intention. That and to fight the heat. That morning, despite the cold, she wore her summer dress anyway, after all, Kyung Soo got up early to turn on the fireplace. She turned around and hugged him back, caressing his shoulders and nape “Don’t worry, next week I’m going to give you something better than a summer dress” His cheeks, which always reflected the sun, were still shining under the cold light that came through the window. His hands wandered a little bit lower, pulling her closer, and kissing her. His head angled to kiss her deep, teasing her with his tongue. She wanted to devour his lips, kiss him like that without stopping, even deeper and messier. She wanted to get on her knees and brag about what her tongue could do too.

Kyung Soo had one hand on her head, and another on the wall holding himself. Her legs were already feeling a bit of discomfort, but it was worth it. He was close to coming, his hips bucking, grunting softly. She let go of his cock but kept pumping him with her hands. She called his name and Kyung Soo looked down at her, smiling and rubbing her cheek with his thumb "Kyung Soo, do you think about me at night? Does your hand wonder down thinking about me? Do you wish it was my hand?” She finished with a purr like voice, still stroking him slowly. Kyung Soo’s eyes went dark, as he grabbed her upper arms. He pulled her up and pinned her against the wall. For the first time she saw him lose control and it was breathtaking "Do you want to drive me crazy?” He almost growled against her right cheek “You know how badly I want to fuck you?" He emphasized his words by giving a good squeeze to her ass. She felt like screaming in triumph, pleasure, and desperation "I know you want, but I'm having my fun now" She bit his lower lip playfully, and rubbed the tip of his dick, seeking for his release “How is this your fun?” “You have no idea how turn on I am by you, Kyung Soo, your voice, your gestures, your smell…” He interrupted her with another hard squeeze and with his free hand he grabbed her jaw, pressing enough to make her open her mouth so he could stick his tongue inside her. This is just what she wanted. He was matching her energy and fitting perfectly with her dynamics.

By the third time she sat between Kyung Soo's legs that weekend, she could feel the spark of possessiveness growing inside of her. A need to having him all for herself, making him hers, only hers, being the only one that gets to see him like this. That couldn’t be good. But she wasn't planning on stopping.

Their activities that Sunday could be summed up on whatever they did between blow jobs. Eating, watching something, talking. A lot of talking. She liked how whenever they were apart, not lying next to each other, she would look around to see what he was doing, and she would find him looking at her. He never looked away when their eyes met. Only smiled and held her stare until she looked down smiling. It was so comfortable to be around him. She didn’t need to talk all the time, just sit next to him and share her cup of coffee. It was so stupid to think that this could be just a friend with benefits kind of relationship. From day one she could feel that it was much more than that. She was glad Kyung Soo was the kind of guy that knew what he wanted and asked for what he wanted.

She left later than normal. Too entertained talking and cuddling with Kyung Soo. His eyes still looked dazed, and his voice was softer than usual. As always he walked her to her car, holding a bag with gifts. This time, apples. She put it on the back seat and then walked to him for a goodbye kiss. His lips were pouting as he rubbed one of his eyes “You tired my friend?” She rubbed his left ear, and rested her hand on his neck "You wore me out, I'm a bit sensitive” He pointed to his crotch “Oh poor you” She brought her hands to her chest, looking at his crotch with fake worry “I'm being serious it hurts a little bit” “Then spend the rest of the night naked from the waist down and take a long bath” “Very funny, you will see, next week I'm going to do the same to you” He wasn’t joking, she could tell by now “Promise?” His lips turned slightly upward “Laugh for now Hulder, you will see” She grunted slightly frustrated, and got inside her car. Only five days until fuck day. Only five days.

TBC

[leemaht]

may i request for an oikawa tooru as a boyfriend sfw and nsfw hc please? 🥺👉👈

yessir ☀️

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boyfriend scenarios (sfw and nsfw)

oikawa tooru as your boyfriend

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

warnings: nsfw

pairing: oikawa tooru x reader

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

sfw

in second year of high school you moved in the house next to iwaizumi's. your mothers befriended real quick, so after a while you befriended as well after you found out you would be in the same school and class. he guided you and after you had settled in he kept you around forming a sibling-like relationship.

so it was no wonder you got introduced to oikawa.

you got close really fast and he also started to see you as a sibling. at first. he had a natural flirty personality so many one liners and winks flew in your direction. you caught feelings early off (with complains from iwaizumi, bc he knew) but refused to make a move since he still had a girlfriend.

after his girlfriend dumped him for being too focused on volleyball you did everything to cheer him up and comfort him. that's when he finally saw you like you were. kind, cheery, caring, pretty.

he asked you out very hesitantly as he thought you thought of him as a brother figure but after iwaizumi convinced him otherwise. he gathered up all his courage and he asked you out on a date to which you agreed immediately.

after a few dates you asked him to be your boyfriend as he really liked you but was pretty hesitant. he was afraid to lose you and that you would react to his determination to volleyball like his last girlfriend. he happily agreed to your request though.

he is the type of guy who forces you to attend every of his practices and matches and the 3rd years hangouts (with iwa, makki and matsun). you become friends with those meme lords right off the bat.

this guy considers you cheering on him from the bleachers as a date. but you don't mind if it makes him happy. you also use the opportunity to hang out with iwa and the other friends you made on the team.

study dates. lots of them. he often is so focused on volleyball that he forgets all about his other responsibilities. he often sulks that you are much cleverer than him but really appreciates your help. those study dates often turn into 3rd year hangouts though as the others need as much help as oikawa does and oikawa bragges about how good you teached him (he can't stop the others from tagging along).

he tries to teach you volleyball sometimes. well, not teaching but showing off his own skills so you would compliment him. he is a sucker for your compliments and attention. so your admiration as you observed him was like a drug for him.

he acts all cheery and flirty in public but when the two of you were alone, he actually let go of the act. he loved to be comforted by you and you see him crying on a regular basis.

'you are the only one to see this side of me, so you better keep it a secret, y/n-chan.' he would say after one of those days.

kisses. your first kiss was when you asked him to be your boyfriend. since this request came as such a surprise to him he was really overwhelmed. he started tearing up and listing things his old girlfriend had accursed him of so you would know what you had to deal with. as you comforted him and still wanted to be with him he was so happy and grateful that he looked at you through this teary eyes of his and a light sad smirk. you couldn't help but lean in and kiss him. he was really surprised but kissed back pretty fast. after, you held his face in between your palms as you wiped off his tears with your thumbs.

he usually kisses you on the lips whenever he felt like it. as a greeting in the mornings, as a goodbye, before tests or matches as a good luck charm

he loves it when you cheekily place kisses on his cheeks or nose though and can't help to blush when you do.

'y/n-chan you are so cute🥺'

cuddles. after he lost a match or overworked himself he would sit on a bench depressed. you would stand between his legs and stroke his hair while he leaned his head on your front and you whispered sweet nothings in his ear. he also loves to lay on your chest and listen to your heartbeat. especially when you were asleep, this would have such a calming influence on him, you won't believe it. apart from that he is usually the big spoon.

jealousy. this guy gets soooooo jealous. when a guy as much as talked to you he would come up behind you and hug your waist, resting his chin on either your head or shoulder and stare everybody down. in accute cases he would use his sharp tongue to degrade the other party.

he wouldn't mind getting physical too though if they made you uncomfortable.

his fangirls hate you. many of them called you out before and seriously? you cried about this more than once. iwa would get pretty mad at oikawa for not protecting you (some names would be used). oikawa would comfort you after this but he would try to be as polite as possible to his fans because he needed this support. but on the inside? venom.

nsfw

your first time was very... calculated? he had planned everything before. he considered you the love of his life so he wanted to make sure everything was perfect.

on your first time it was his priority to make you feel good and he would do anything for it. he would even refuse to come before you.

even though there was that rumor about being a heartbreaker or whatever, i believe he would be ... well... not unexperienced but not experienced either. i guess before you he had a body count of 1 or 2 at best.

your first few times were pretty vanilla but he would ask you for your preferences and tell you all about his (at least the rather innocent ones). he wouldn't mind to give in to you if you had any kinks and would be down to try them out no matter what. would also be down to try out toys or new positions if you asked him to.

but in general he thought it was his job alone to make you feel good, so on his own he would only use toys in the foreplay or to a certain extent to tease you.

big tease

spanking. big spanker (lol). but only on the giving side.

you are usually pretty innocent but when he first noticed that you tended to swear during sex he tried everything to make screams and curse words leave this beautiful, innocent lips of yours.

he would never ask you to do something that made you uncomfortable so he was pretty hesitant telling you about his secret desires at first but this got better with time.

this boy is touch starved to the max. give him love and touch him as much as possible. he feels the most comfortable when he holds you so close it might even be hard to move.

i imagine this guy having a praise kink. tell him how good he is doing something or how good he looked doing something, he is putty in your hands.

'tooru, ah... you l-look so hot right now.' pace increasing!

he hits it til it breaks, remember?

but he is also very cautious and makes sure not to go overboard. you are the most precious to him so he treats you like a prince(ss)

master of after care

blow jobs. really. do it. it was one of his secret desires but he was afraid to tell you that. one time though you walked in on him jerking off (you had a date but were to early by idk an hour?) and moaning your name and your instincts got ahead of you. you sucked him off. this was such a mesmerising experience for him, you to do that without asking and it was way better then it had been in all his wet dreams combined. he seriously started crying of overstimulation.

shower sex after he comes home from training is a big yes.

he is a switch. he would make sure to top you and show you who was in control most of the time but he would love it when you took contol from time to time too. he would totally lose it every time he was under your mercy. he really got all hot and bothered only by the thought of your pretty body all over him, telling him what to do and making him feel amazing.

boi got hard so often only by looking at you (which wondered you because oit of the bedroom your sex drive wasn't as high as his and you would be pretty innocent, which made him only more hot and bothered)

[anhed-nia]

BLOGTOBER 10/7/2020

I missed THE GOLDEN GLOVE at Fantastic Fest last year. It was one of my only regrets of the whole experience, but it was basically mandatory since the available screenings were opposite the much-hyped PARASITE. As annoying as that sounds, it was actually a major compliment, since what could possibly serve as a consolation prize for the most hotly anticipated movie of the year? Needless to say, I heard great things, but I could never have imagined what it was actually like. I'm still wrapping my mind around it.

Between 1970 and 1975, an exceptionally depraved serial killer named Fritz Honka murdered at least four prostitutes in Hamburg's red light district. Today, we tend to think of the archetypal serial killer in terms of ironic contradictions: The public is attracted by Ted Bundy's dashing looks and suave manner, and John Wayne Gayce's dual careers as politician and party clown. Lacking anything so remarkable, we associate psychopathy with Norman Bates' boy-next-door charm, and repeat "It's always the quiet ones" with a smirk whenever a new Jeffrey Dahmer or Dennis Nilsen is exposed to the public. The popular conception of a bloodthirsty maniac is not the fairytale monster of yore, but a wolf in sheep's clothing, whose hygienic appearance and lifestyle belie his twisted desires. In our post-everything world, the ironic surprise has become the rule. In this light, THE GOLDEN GLOVE represents a refreshing return to naked truth.

To say that writer-director Fatih Akin's version of the Fritz Honka story is shocking, repulsive, and utterly degenerated would be a gross understatement. We first meet the killer frantically trying to dispose of a corpse in his filthy flat, wallpapered with porno pinups, strewn with broken toys, and virtually projecting smell lines off of the screen. One's sense of embodiment is oppressive, even claustrophobic, as the petite Honka tries and fails to collapse the full dead weight of a human corpse into a garbage bag, before giving up and dismembering it, with nearly equal difficulty. The scene is appalling, utterly debased, and yet nothing is as shocking as the killer's visage. When he finally turns to look into the camera, it's hard to believe he's even human: the rolling glass eye, the smashed and inflated nose, the tombstone teeth and cratered skin, are almost too extreme to bear. Actually, suffering from a touch of facial blindness, I had to stare intently at Honka's face for nearly half the movie before I could fully convince myself that I was, in fact, looking at an elaborate prosthetic operation used to transform 23 year old boy band candidate Jonas Dassler into the disfigured 35 year old serial murderer.

Though West Germany remained on a steady economic upturn beginning in the 1950s and throughout the 1970s, you wouldn't know it from THE GOLDEN GLOVE. If Honka's outsides match his insides, they are further matched by his stomping grounds in the Reeperbahn, a dirty, violent, booze-soaked repository for the dregs of humanity. Though its denizens may come from different walks of life, one thing is certain: Whoever winds up there, belongs there. Honka was the child of a communist and grew up in a concentration camp, yet he swills vodka side by side with an ex-SS officer, among other societal rejects, in a crumbling dive called The Golden Glove. The scene is an excellent source of hopeless prostitutes at the end of their career, who are Honka's prime victims, as he is too frightful-looking to ensnare an attractive young girl. These pitiful women all display a peculiarly hypnotic willingness to go along with Honka, no matter how sadistic he becomes; this seems to have less to do with money, which rarely comes up, and more to do with their shared awareness that for them, and for Honka too, it's been all over, for a long time.

Not to reduce someone’s performance to their physical appearance, but ???

To call Dassler's portrayal of Honka "sympathetic" would be a bridge too far, but it is undeniably compelling. He supports the startling impact of his facial prostheses with a performance of rare intensity, a full-body transformation into a person in so much pain that a normal life will never become an option. His physical vocabulary reminded me of the stage version of The Elephant Man, in which the lead actor wears no makeup, but conveys John Merrick's deformities using his body alone. Although there is an abundance of makeup in THE GOLDEN GLOVE, Dassler's silhouette and agonized movements would be recognizable from a mile away. In spite of his near-constant screaming rage, the actor manages to craft a rich and convincing persona. During a chapter in which Honka experiments with sobriety, we find a stunning image of him hunched in the corner of his ordinarily chaotic flat, now deathly still, his eyes gazing at nothing as cigarette smoke seeps from his pores, having no idea what to do with himself when he isn't in a rolling alcoholic rampage. The moment is brief but haunting in its contrast to the rest of the film, having everything to do with Dassler's quietly vibrating anxiety.

Performances are roundly excellent here, not that least of which are from Honka's victims. The cast of middle-aged actresses looking their most disastrous is hugely responsible for the film's impact. These are the kinds of performances people call "brave", which is a euphemism for making audiences uncomfortable with an uncompromising presentation of one's own self, unvarnished by any masturbatory solicitation. Among these women is Margarete Tiesel, herself no stranger to difficult cinema: She was the star of 2012's PARADISE: LOVE, a harrowing drama about a woman who copes with her midlife crisis by pursuing sex tourism in Kenya. Her brilliant, instinctive performance as one of Honka's only survivors--though she nearly meets a fate worse than death--makes her the leading lady of a movie that was never meant to have one.

So, what does all this unpleasantness add up to, you might be asking? It's hard to say. THE GOLDEN GLOVE is a film of enormous power, but it can be difficult to explain what the point of it is, in a world where most people feel that the purpose of art is to produce some form of pleasure. This is the challenge faced by difficult movies throughout history, like THE GOLDEN GLOVE's obvious ancestors, HENRY: PORTRAIT OF A SERIAL KILLER, MANIAC and THE TEXAS CHAIN SAW MASSACRE. Describing unremitting cruelty with relentless realism is not considered a worthy endeavor by many, even if there is real artistry in your execution; some people will even mistake you for advocating and enjoying violence and despair, as we live in a world where huge amount of movie and TV production is devoted to aspirational subjects. (The fact that people won't turn away from the Marvel Cinematic Universe movies, no matter how monotonous and condescending they become, should tell you something) How do you justify to such people, that you want to make or see work that portrays ugliness and evil with as much commitment as other movies seek to portray love, beauty, and family values? Why isn't it enough to say that these things exist, and their existence alone makes them worth contemplation?

A rare, perhaps exclusive “beautiful image” in THE GOLDEN GLOVE, from Fritz Honka’s absurd fantasies.

You may detect that I have attempted to have this frustrating conversation with many people, strangers, enemies, and friends I love and respect. I find that for some, it is simply too hard to divorce themselves from the pleasure principle. I don't say this to demean them; some hold the philosophy that art be reserved for beauty, and others have a more literary feeling that it's ok to show characters in grim circumstances, as long as the ultimate goal is to uplift the human spirit. Even I draw the line somewhere; I appreciate the punk rebellion of Troma movies as a cultural force, but I do not enjoy watching them, because I dislike what I perceive as contempt for the audience and the aestheticization of laziness--making something shitty more or less on purpose. A step or three up from that, you land in Todd Solondz territory, where you find materially gorgeous movies whose explicit statement is that our collective reverence for a quality called "humanity" is based on nothing. I like some of those movies, and sometimes I even like them when I don't like them, because I'm entranced by Solondz's technical proficiency...and maybe, deep down, I'm not completely convinced about "humanity", either. However, I don't fight very hard in arguments about him; I understand the objections. Still, I've been surprised by peers who I think of as bright and tasteful, who absolutely hated movies I thought were unassailable, like OLDBOY and WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT KEVIN. In both cases, the ultimate objection was that they accuse humans of being pretentious and self-deceptive, aspiring to heroism or bemoaning their victimhood while wallowing in their own cowardice and perversity. Ok, I get it...but, not really. Why isn't it ever wholly acceptable to discuss, honestly, what we do not like about ourselves?

The beguiling thing about THE GOLDEN GLOVE is that, although it is instantly horrifying, is it also an impeccable production. The director can't help showing you crime scene photos during the ending credits, and I can't really blame him, when his crew worked so hard to bring us a vision of Fritz Honka's world that approaches virtual reality. But it isn't just slavishly realistic; it is vivid, immersive, an experience of total sensory overload. Not a square inch of this movie has been left to chance, and the product of all this graceful control is totally spellbinding. I started to think to myself that, when you've achieved this level of artifice, what really differentiates a movie like THE GOLDEN GLOVE from something like THE RED SHOES? I mean, aside from their obvious narrative differences. Both films plunge the viewer into a world that is complete beyond imagination, crafted with a rigor and sincerity that is rarely paralleled. And, I will dare to say, both films penetrate to the depths of the human soul. What Fatih Akin finds there is not the same as what Powell and Pressburger found, of course, but I don't think that makes it any less real. Akin's film is adapted from a novel by Heinz Strunk, and apparently, some critics have accused Akin of leaving behind the depth and nuance of the book, to focus instead on all that is gruesome about it. This may be true, on some level; I wouldn't know. For now, I can only insist that on watching THE GOLDEN GLOVE, for all its grotesquerie, I still got the message.

[trashmenofmarvel]

Let’s Hear It For Captain America!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: For Halloween, you thought it would be hilarious to dress up as a salacious version of his best friend. Bucky was not amused.

or

You dress up as Sexy Captain America and Bucky ruins your costume.

(For @sherrybaby14​ Fall Into You Challenge! Thank you, this was so fun!)

Prompt: “The only scary thing here is you.”

Chapter Warnings: Rough sex with a rough Bucky

Word Count: 6.2k

AO3

You trekked carefully down the metal staircase, mindful of your shaky ankles. The knee-high red boots were probably not the best idea, but you didn’t have far to go.

Plus, there was no way in hell you were getting rid of the boots. The look didn’t work without the boots.

Reaching the next landing, you checked over one shoulder to make sure your companion hadn’t fallen behind. One grumpy super soldier, a James Buchanan Barnes, followed you in sullen silence, his blue eyes narrowed into thin slivers of ice.

“Come on,” you needled him plaintively. “It’s one night. One party. It won’t kill you to make nice with the neighbors.”

He made a noise somewhere between a grunt and a sigh. You rolled your eyes and turned away, knowing the lecture you would receive later.

I’m being actively hunted by the U.S. Government, which puts you in direct danger.

The point of hiding is to stay hidden.

HYDRA could still be out there.

Blah, blah, blah.

“We’re spending Halloween in Romania,” you pointed out for probably the tenth time. “I’m not missing this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

Bucky remained silent, probably grateful that you’d given up trying to get him to wear a costume. He hadn’t thought dressing up in a store-bought version of the Winter Soldier had been very funny. You understood his reluctance, but you also wondered if he had left his sense of humor in 1945. Your costume shouldn’t have brought up any negative emotions for him—quite the opposite—but he seemed to hate it even more than the commercialized Winter Soldier getup.

It didn’t matter. Bucky could protest all he wanted; he couldn’t stop you from wearing it.

You only had a couple floors to go and soon you arrived at the actual party. You found it to be a nice little break from the monotonous space of your tiny apartment you shared, but you knew Bucky wouldn’t feel the same.

It was part of the reason you were trying to pull him out of that granite, impregnable shell. You had tried, albeit unsuccessfully, to show him that there were perks to living under a false identity. You got to make up who you were. No one knew about your past and you could start fresh.

Bucky didn’t seem to see it that way, and he remained as sullen as the first time you met him.

The entire building seemed to be alive around you now, everyone’s doors opens as little kids and teenagers ran from apartment to apartment.

Already anticipating that the quick movements would set him on edge, you reached back and took Bucky’s right hand in your left. It was warm and solid underneath the gloves he always wore. As you predicted, his fingers were tense and rigid, but as you kept walking they gradually relaxed and slowly hooked around yours.

It wasn’t unusual for you to give him a light touch; for you to maintain your cover as a married couple, some physical closeness was necessary in public. He never initiated contact, however, leaving the awkwardness of that to you. Just another way the guy didn’t make your life easier.

When you arrived at the party, it was already in full swing. Most of the adults were in costume, though many weren’t, only there to keep track of the younger kids. Tiny Hulks and miniscule Iron Men and even a few small Captain Americas were spotted running around the party. You were simultaneously disappointed and relieved there were no little Winter Soldiers terrorizing the place, but you knew the costumes were definitely out there. Ever since S.H.I.E.L.D.’s files had been released to the public, everyone knew about the tragic story of Captain America’s best friend-slash-turned unwilling enemy. It had captured the public’s imagination, and Bucky insisted he couldn’t understand why people were so enthralled by it.

It made you wonder if he had a romantic bone in his body. Being with him on the run for a year-and-a-half, you had little evidence to the contrary. The only time he showed you any kind of affection was to convince the neighbors you were married, and even then, his affections were stilted and clearly made him uncomfortable.

You sighed and leaned against the wall as you overlooked the party, which by now was spilling over onto the balcony and the stairwell. You had lost track of Bucky a minute ago and half-believed he had run off back to the sanctuary of your apartment.

Left alone, it didn’t take long for the other building tenants to wander over and start chatting, or rather start flirting, with you. You weren’t sure why this was something that happened to you ever since you’d lived in Bucharest. When you’d been single and available, no one would look at you twice.

And now that you were supposedly a married woman, men seemed to flock around you. At first it had been flattering; now you wanted to punch out all their teeth.

You managed to disentangle yourself from not one, but two of them, until Kyle managed to corner you. You sighed, trying to appear not completely put-off as he leaned against the wall and began talking despite your body language telling him very clearly you weren’t interested.

This wasn’t the first time Kyle had started flirting with you, and you doubted it would be the last. Even with the fictitious wedding ring on your finger, and the fact Bucky glared murderously at him whenever he was in sight, Kyle didn’t seem to take the hint.

You tried to do your best to brush him off and scanned the room for signs of Bucky. It shouldn’t have been difficulty with his height and broad shoulders, but he had the uncanny ability to blend into any crowd, even a colorful one at a Halloween party—

A hand was on your bare thigh, sudden and invasive. Without thinking, you punched Kyle in the side of his ribs so fast it almost looked like a playful gesture. He bent over and held his side as he gave a wheezing cough.

“I think he’s had too much to drink,” you said to Evangeline when she looked over at the two of you. She made a sympathetic face and walked over, grabbing one of his arms.

“Come on,” she told him wearily. No doubt she’d had to deal with a drunk-Kyle before. Kyle looked up at you with a shocked expression, but the smile you returned was as sweet as the pumpkin cupcakes next to him on the table.

“Fucker,” you muttered under your breath once he was out of sight. Your smile began to fade only to return, genuine this time, at the sight of Bucky returning with two cups of what looked like fruit punch. His jaw was tense and his eyes were a little too watchful under the brim of his black baseball cap. Even now, in the midst of a family Halloween party, he refused to drop his guard.

In a way, his constant vigilance made you feel safe. Not that you would ever dream of telling him that.

“I thought a tiny Black Widow had chased you off,” you joked as you took the cup he handed you. You surveyed the room and tilted your chin towards a corner where a group of baby Avengers had assembled. “They are scary little things, aren’t they?”

You tipped the cup towards your mouth. Bucky’s lips were suddenly against your ear as he said in a low voice, “The only scary thing here is you.”

You choked and sputtered on the sweet drink. Bucky put a concerned hand on your shoulder as you coughed up the liquid that had gone down the wrong pipe.

“I am not! Scary!” you protested between coughs, your cheeks heating as you glared up at him. You hoped he took your blushing as a reaction to nearly choking, not by the strange thrill that had filled your gut at the sensation of Bucky’s voice right in your ear. “This costume was a stroke of genius and you almost made me spill punch on it.”

“Mmm, shame,” he replied evenly. But you noticed the crinkles at the corner of his eyes and knew he was in the vicinity of a smile. “But that wasn’t what I was referring to. Your form is getting better.”

You wiped at your mouth and tried not to blush at his praise. It was getting to the point in your pining where he could read combat techniques from a drill manual and you would still find it sexy. Sad, really sad, but this was your life. All you had was the fantasy, never the real thing, and it didn’t help that lately he had been doing things like stripping off his shirt before going into the bathroom to shower. Or you’d wake up and he’d be making breakfast while shirtless.

In fact, a lot of your fantasies had started to revolve around him starting off shirtless, exposing his sculpted muscles shamelessly. If you hadn’t known him better, and considering how long you’d been living together you thought you knew him as well as any one person could, you would have thought he was doing it on purpose. Bucky Barnes the strip-tease. God only knew the talking down you would have gotten if he had any idea the gremlin thoughts running through your little head.

Ah, well. At least he wasn’t reprimanding you for punching one of your neighbors.

You reluctantly pulled your eyes away from the object of your longing and looked down at yourself to make sure none of the pink liquid had gotten on your uniform.

The uniform in question had not only been brilliant, it had also been a move of desperation. Nearly all of the costumes at the store had been sold out, expect for one Sexy Captain America that was just your size.

It wasn’t so much a Cap “uniform” as it was a red, white, and blue showgirl dress with a white star emblazoned on the chest. Your favorite part was the ridiculous felt helmet, complete with a pair of little wings on the side of your head.

You thought it would be hilarious to dress up as a salacious version of his best friend.

Bucky had not been amused.

You downed the rest of your punch, disappointed it wasn’t spiked, and sighed through your nostrils. “I think I’ve had enough fun. You?”

He made a noise of affirmation, and you expected him to make a fast bee-line toward the door. Instead, he placed a hand at the small of your back and guided you out in a gesture that was perfectly normal for couples but felt especially intimate tonight. Knowing the fingers were metal underneath the glove did nothing to quell the sudden heat curling in your lower belly.

You were really glad to be leaving now. At least back in the apartment you could distract yourself with a cold shower.

The sound of the party receded behind you, and sighed in audible relief once you were back in the safe quietness of your living space. It was a small studio, barely big enough for one person let alone two, but you made it work. At first, because you had to, but now you genuinely liked living with the quiet, albeit sometimes surly, super soldier.

It was too bad with all of his sharp-eyed observation he continually failed to notice you as more than just a co-habitant.

You pulled off the cheap cloth helmet and shook out your hair. Bucky was watching you out of the corner of his eye, no doubt silently judging you yet again for your choice in clothing. You looked down at your uniform one last time, reluctant to put it away. Who knew if you would be here next Halloween, and the realization filled you with surprising sadness.

And then you noticed it. The glaring pink stain on one arm of the white star.

“Oh, come on.” Not worried about Bucky’s judgement now, you rushed into the kitchenette and pulled off one of the washcloths hanging on the oven door, wetting it under the faucet. “If it doesn’t come out, you’re buying me a new one,” you muttered as you rubbed at the stubborn stain. It wasn’t coming out. You scrubbed harder, grumbling under your breath.

Bucky didn’t answer, but you were too busy fussing over the fabric to care. You made an annoyed noise when the water dripped down the front of your uniform and onto the floor. You leaned over the edge of the sink so you wouldn’t make such a mess.

Something warm and solid bumped against you.

“What—“

It pinned you against the counter. Your surprise was quickly replaced with shock when Bucky’s hands reached around you to grip the edge of the sink.

He was bodily pressed against your entire back. Your heart raced in your chest as your mind shuddered to a halt.

“You wanted to wear the damned thing,” he rumbled into your ear. “Not my fault you can’t keep it clean.”

“Uh…”

You couldn’t form any words. Not with the way his hips were pressed against you and his hard chest on your back. You couldn’t react when he took the cloth from you and began to slowly and deliberately clean the star right between your breasts.

“Um…” you repeated, completely gobsmacked.

“Yes?” he asked, so casually, as if what he was doing was completely normal. As if his breath wasn’t hot on your neck. As if his hands weren’t practically on your breasts. As if the erection you definitely felt straining against his jeans wasn’t pressed into your ass.

What the hell had gotten into him? You felt like a deer trapped in the headlights. Or one frozen in fear as a predator prepared to lunge and sink his teeth into her neck.

“This is…” Your voice trailed off, sounding semi-breathless to your own ears.

“…what you get when you strut around, teasing me with your bare thighs and glimpses of those black panties?”

Heat flushed through you like an electric jolt down a wire.

“I wasn’t strutting,” you snapped in a voice too high for your normal vocal range. “And I wasn’t… teasing you, either.”

“No?” he murmured against your ear. You felt the bare fingertips of his right hand trace up the outside of your thigh, making you jump. “Then I guess you’re not wearing black panties, either.”

Before you could stop him, he slid his hand up your poofy skirt, hooked a finger in the side of your underwear, and pulled on them far enough so he could see that they were, indeed, black.

Then he released them and the elastic snapped against your hip, making you give an indignant, “Hey!”

Bucky spun you around and pressed your back against the counter as he stared down at you, eyes dark and heated.

“What?” he prodded in a tone edged like a blade. “If I noticed, you can bet those men you were talking to did too. And to think.” He lowered his face closer to yours, his bright blue eyes drifting down to your lips. “You’re supposed to be a married woman.”

His hands were on your arms now, one warm and calloused while the other cool and unyielding. You tried to ignore the contradictory sensation and regain your wits to try and figure out what the fuck was going on with him. Was Bucky actually pissed or was he just messing with you? You didn’t know, but either one was very unlike him.

Besides, you were the one who would tease and flirt with him, all harmless in an attempt to get him to crack. His stoic façade had never shattered once, so his abrupt turnaround was a complete mystery to you.

“Well, I’m not a married woman,” you responded with a defiant lift of your chin. If he thought you were falling for his bluff, he was going to be disappointed. “So mind your business what I do with other men.”

Without warning, he thrust his thigh between your legs, forcing them apart. You gave a startled noise as he pressed his entire body against yours so the top of his thigh met your clit through your panties.

You gave a startled moan and immediately bit your lip, but it was too late. He’d heard it too. He raised his eyebrows in a mock question, a very faint smirk on his lips.

You sputtered and tried to recover your dignity.

“Bucky, what the fuck. What are you—“

“Shhh,” he hushed you as he rubbed his thigh against you. You gave a small whimper, and pressed your legs together harder. It made the pressure even more intense, which was precisely what you didn’t want.

He pulled his leg away from your pelvis and you sighed in relief. The sigh turned into a small cry when he reached forward and shoved his right hand down your panties, his fingers sliding between your folds.

“Hmm, yeah. Just as I thought,” he practically purred. His metal hand was at the back of your neck, curling his fingers into your hair.

“Soaked.”

Before you could protest, he spun you around again back to your original position, this time with his hand down your panties. He lightly gripped you around the neck with his metal hand, an unspoken warning to hold still. You were too overwhelmed to move, his warm fingers against your clit rendering you basically helpless.

You dug your fingertips into his arm but didn’t shove him away. If anything you were using him as an anchor as your knees began to wobble.

“Bucky,” you tried one more time. Pleading for something you couldn’t identify.

He hushed you again, sounding more like himself for a moment. Your grumpy, quiet, gentle Bucky.

“I’ve got you.”

His lips were on the side of your neck, and you were too far gone to care what he did to you.

You moaned and tilted your head to the side, lulling your head against his shoulder as he began to fuck you with his fingers. All the tension and unrequited attraction came to a head, and it wasn’t long before the pressure between your thighs began to build.

“Bucky,” you whined again, more urgently this time.

“You wanna play at being Captain America? Super soldiers have more control than that.” He lightly nipped at your earlobe and dropped his voice. “We also have an inhuman amount of stamina.”

You couldn’t even begin to process that statement before he was speaking in your ear again, low and rough.

“You’re so close, I can feel it.”

You never thought you would hear that voice talk dirty to you, and it was going to ruin you for every other man in existence, without a doubt.

“Do you want to come on my fingers?”

You could hear the teasing smirk in his voice, but you didn’t care. Whatever front you had tried to put up had vanished into thin air, probably around the time he had put his hand down your underwear.

“Yes,” you croaked, needy to your own ears. “God, yes.”

“Ask me nicely,” he drawled. It was cruel, the way he weaponized his voice against you, and he must have known exactly what he was doing. You felt him prod the shell of your ear with his tongue and you whined pathetically.

“Please, Bucky. God, please, I need you.”

His fingers paused for a moment. You thought you were in trouble. You hadn’t meant to expose yourself like that.

But then Bucky slid his hand down and prodded at your entrance before pushing inside with two fingers, his thumb on your clit as he curled his fingers against the sensitive flesh inside.

You cried out a curse, bending your head back. Bucky released your neck and pushed down the top of the dress, exposing your breasts. He took one nipple in his metal fingers and delicately rubbed it between them. It sent a jolt down your spine and through your gut, causing you to clench around his fingers as the dam finally broke and you voiced a wordless cry.

He held you through your release, his arm around your waist practically the only thing holding you up.

“My turn.”

You didn’t have the wits or the time to contemplate that ominous statement. Bucky released you, grabbed the back of your neck in his metal fingers, and bent you forward over the edge of the sink.

“Buck—aah!”

Your protest turned into an indignant squawk when he tore off what was left of your ruined panties, and he didn’t stop there, rucking up the skirt around your hips as he caressed his calloused hand over your skin. He explored down the curve of your ass, and without warning, slipped two fingers into your soaking folds.

You squirmed and bit off a moan, but his metal hand on your nape kept you in place.

“Now,” he said, far too casually for someone holding you down and slowly finger-fucking you against the sink, “do you want it like this, bent over because you can’t wait another second for someone to fuck you? Or…”

He added a third finger and you hit your knee against the counter as your body jolted. You clenched your jaw to keep from crying out; the walls were thin, and you really didn’t want your neighbors to hear what they should have heard long before now if you’d actually been spouses.

You felt a warm weight across your back as he leaned over you.

“…do you want me to put you on the counter and fuck you right there? Make it so you can never make another meal again without thinking of me between your legs?”

“Oh, God,” you stuttered out, unable to pull forth a full sentence.

“Choose.” He slid his fingers out of you, tortuously slow, his breath hot on your cheek. “Or I’ll choose for you.”

“Bucky,” you whined breathlessly. It wasn’t fair, you could barely function, barely think, and he was demanding the impossible.

“Counter? Or sink?”

You moaned pitifully, shivering as your thighs tightened and your walls lightly pulsed around his fingers. If he kept this up, you were going to come again, and he must have sensed that because he pulled out almost immediately. You gave a pathetic noise at the sudden emptiness.

“Looks like it’s dealer’s choice.”

He released the back of your neck and grabbed your hip, metal fingers gripping your flesh as you felt the head of his cock slip between your folds and push against your entrance. You were shivering by this point, perfectly still otherwise, and you didn’t realize you were holding your breath until he said, “Breathe.”

You exhaled shakily, your hands gripping the edge of the sink in a desperate grip.

As you breathed out, Bucky began to push. You shut your eyes tight and he said, “Relax,” and loosened his hold on your hip. He rubbed the flesh he had been gripping a moment ago, and you relaxed automatically.

“That’s my girl,” he said soothingly, the edge of humor back on his voice. “You just need a gentle touch to get all soft and pliable. A few seconds with me and you’ve got no more hard edges. That’s what those boys out there don’t understand. They’re all fumbling hands and no skill.”

If his sinful tone hadn’t made you melt, the feel of him pushing his cock inside you sure as hell would have. He was slow and careful, but with how slick you were it wasn’t too difficult for him to fill you the rest of the way. Still, the stretch was a lot to get used to, and you bent your head forward and groaned at the sweet burn of it.

When his hips were flush against you and his cock was firmly embedded inside, you shuddered hard and gave a muffled whimper.

He cursed under his breath, his grip on your hips tightening again. “You really don’t know how to relax, do you? You say I’m a tight-ass, but it’s nothing compared to your actual tight-ass.”

You tried to laugh, because honestly what else could you do in this insane situation, but it came out as a choking groan. He wasn’t kidding; either you were really tight or he was just too much. You could feel every inch of him straining at your walls, and you were almost afraid to move.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he said, the touch of his hands on your hips a light stroke as if you were his pet. “Use your words. Tell me what you want.”

As if he didn’t already fucking well know. Bastard knew exactly how to get under your skin even as he was balls deep in you.

“Asshole,” you hissed between clench teeth.

“I was planning on working up to that,” he said with a laugh just on the edge of his words. “But I mean, if you want to I’m more than willing—“

“Bucky!”

This time he did laugh, and the jostle of his hips was enough to send a tremor through your walls.

It was little wonder you finally snapped, spouting your words like fire.

“Goddammit, Bucky, just fucking fuck me already before I die here impaled on your dick like some kind of human shish kebab—“

He pulled his hips back until his cock was halfway out of you, and slammed forward.

The cry that left your mouth was both nonsensical and far too loud. You bit down on your hand just as he did it again, pulling even further out this time before thrusting back into you. The sound of flesh impacting flesh was obscene in the small space of the apartment, but you wouldn’t have made him stop no matter if the entire building heard.

Bucky took your hand from your mouth, tsked at the teeth marks imprinted in your flesh, and pulled your arm behind your back. Bucky did the same with the other hand, effectively pinning both of your wrists with his flesh hand as he continued to grip your hip with the metal one.

“None of that,” he said in a low, almost soothing tone. “Let them hear how much you’re enjoying it. In fact, I prefer it.”

You groaned in protest, or maybe in overwhelming need, it was really hard to tell with the friction building inside you.

He continued to roll his hips but picked up the pace, and the uncomfortable tension of your arms behind your back forced your spine to arch and your hips to angle upward, allowing him to reach deeper. The ache in your shoulders was completely muted by the growing electric pressure in your core.

You choked out his name, a plea to keep going, to never stop, and he rammed into you harder but with shorter strokes. The constant motion against the sensitive spot inside you kept building and building until tears leaked from under your lids and you thought you might combust.

He murmured encouragement; he had to have known you were close from the way you were squeezing around his cock. Without warning, you crested over the ridge, sparks exploding before your eyes as your body went taut. You cried out his name, breathy but unmistakable. Bucky released your wrists and you gripped the sink, hanging your head forward as you tried to catch your breath.

He pulled out suddenly and you would have fallen if he hadn’t grabbed you around the waist and turned you around, lifting you up onto the counter. You stared at him, nearly eyelevel now, dazed and shivering from the aftershocks.

You had never seen an expression like this on his face before, the ring of blue bright and intense as the black of his pupils expanded. There was color high on his cheeks and a thin sheet of sweat on his forehead, and his lips were pink and recently bitten.

You wanted nothing more than to taste those lips, but before you could even try, he leaned forward and pressed against you, using his hand at the base of his cock to aim, dragging the head against your entrance. The shaft was glistening with your slick, and you could see now why you had been so stretched before.

“Come on, Cap. You gonna stare all day or are you gonna give me my orders?” His lips curling into a wicked grin. “You’re the commanding officer here.”

You forced yourself to meet his eyes, seeing the silent laughter there.

“Huh?” You sounded exactly as dazed as you felt.

“Captains are officers, sergeants are enlistment. So, what are my orders, sir?” As he spoke, he continued to tease and prod at you. It was unfair how much control he had over himself when you had shaken apart twice now.

Super soldier stamina, indeed.

“I… I want you to…” You didn’t know why you felt so shy all of a sudden; Bucky was literally dragging his cock across your pussy while baiting you to order him to fuck you. Maybe it was the way his blue eyes shot straight through you, but you felt overheated and frozen simultaneously.

“Don’t be shy now, sweetheart,” he teased, slipping back into that heated New York accent had had heard hints of before. In this situation, it should have been illegal. “Everyone heard you squealin’ just a moment ago.”

“Bucky!” you scolded him even though you were in literally the last position to have any dignity intact. “That’s not… we shouldn’t have… we shouldn’t be…”

His face was already close, but he moved in even closer, his mouth tantalizingly near as he breathed against your lips.

“Little too late for that, but we can stop if you really—,” he ran the head of his cock right across your clit, slow and firm, “—want to. Just give the order.”

You shut your eyes, both to cut yourself off from his piercing gaze and to give yourself time to think, and also to fully enjoy the tingling heat that fluttered throughout your core. You wanted to hurl at him every curse you knew, both in English and Romanian, but that’s not at all what you ended up doing, because honestly, whose fault was it that you were in this predicament? All because you insisted on teasing him with that stupid sexy Captain America costume.

Well, you know what they say. If you can’t beat ‘em…

You opened your eyes and fixed him with a hard stare. He raised his eyebrows in curiosity, but when you tilted your chin back and parted your thighs further, his eyes widened.

“Then stop teasing and take care of your superior officer, soldier.”

With a quick but obscene movement of his tongue swiping across his bottom lip, he grabbed your leg in his metal hand and hoisted it around his waist while at the same time pressing himself against your entrance. You moaned sharply and would have grabbed onto his shoulders for support as he pushed inside you but he immediately pushed you back flat against the countertop.

The only warning you got was Bucky positioning your other leg around his hip. He shoved his hips against you before you were entirely ready, and a shudder ran through you as heat and electricity shot up your spine. Bucky pulled out halfway and did it again, not as forcefully but still enough to arch your spine and force you to fight to breathe properly.

Bucky kept a merciless pace, your walls tightening against the ruthless friction, and your fingers curled around the edge of the counter to keep from behind fucked right off the countertop. The sound his cock plunging in and out of you was lewd and filled the small apartment, and the fact you were both almost completely clothed made it even more indecent.

Both of his hands were on your hips now, though not with the same pressure. His metal hand held you firmly but with reservation, while the fingertips of his right dug into your skin, trembling in a way that betrayed his veneer of control. It felt as if he was holding back, and with her super soldier strength he most likely was, taking care not to hurt you. God, he could break you like a dry twig if he lost control, and that fact made you want him that much more.

You tried to be quiet, pressing your lips together so hard they stung, but your efforts crumbled as you felt a pulsing in your core. You gasped Bucky’s name over and over, not sure what you were asking, nonsensical and soon squirming as you felt the steep peak approaching.

He must have been close because he didn’t speak, only made the occasional breathy moan or muffled grunt, but he reached down and press his thumb to your clit without warning. You whimpered sharply and arched your back, an electrical current tightening every muscle of your body as you hung on the edge of the proverbial knife.

When you tipped to the other side, your orgasm slammed into you so hard you couldn’t breathe, a harsh whine in the back of your throat as your walls throbbed around him and brightly-colored sparks exploded behind your closed eyelids.

He cursed and his rhythm went off, but he fucked you through your climax and continued to rub you until you were so sensitive you started squirming and would have batted his hand away if you hadn’t been clinging onto the counter for dear life.

Bucky pulled out suddenly and removed his hand from your clit but held on tightly to your hip with his metal digits. You could even feel them tighten as he cursed again, his voice hoarse and out of breath, and a moment later you felt something warm hit your chest.

It took you a few seconds to be cognizant enough to open your eyes let alone lift your head, but you did, and looked down to find… ribbons of cum covering the white star on your chest.

Your costume might have survived the punch stain, but Bucky had made sure it was beyond saving now.

You weren’t sure whether to laugh or yell at him, and you ended up doing neither, your body trembling and covered in sweat as it recovered from the third orgasm wrenched from it. You hadn’t been so thoroughly fucked in your life, and lying on the kitchen counter, covered in Bucky’s cum, was the last way you would have expected Halloween to end.

Bucky seemed very pleased with himself as he smirked down at you, but you felt very pleased with yourself from the way he couldn’t seem to catch his breath and the ruffled state of his hair, the flush on his cheeks, and the overall look of his flustered appearance.

He leaned forward and for a moment you thought he was going to kiss you. His mouth hovered over yours, lips slightly parted with a wicked look in those blue depths. You held your breath as he traced his metal fingers down the curve of your bare though.

“That’s for torturing me for the past eighteen months,” he mumbled against your lips. He pulled away, tucked himself back into his jeans, and left you there, blinking and breathing hard on the counter top, struck dumb.

You’d been doing what for how long?

“I… did not!” you squeaked in protested as you pulled yourself down onto unsteady feet. Your body felt like it was made out of jelly and cooked noodles, and your skin was oversensitive and raw. It was no wonder, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d had multiple orgasms forced out of you so… vigorously.

Still, that didn’t absolve him of his wrong statement, and you were going to correct him on it.

“You’re the one who’s been tormenting me for the entirety of our—“

You turned toward the living room and shut your mouth with a small pop. Bucky had pulled his shirt up over his head and was in the process of stripping off his boots. He pulled his jeans over his incredible ass and muscular thighs, and continued along this fashion until he was completely naked.

All you could do was stare, and holy shit there was so much to stare at. He turned his head to look at you and quirked up his lips into something far too devious for the grumpy potato you had always believed him to be. After tonight, you had some serious reassessing to do.

“Gonna take a shower.” He raised an eyebrow. “You coming or not?”

Even now without a stitch of clothing, his heated gaze made you feel as if you were the one exposed.

“Captain.”

He blinked owlishly as you unzipped the back of your costume and let the red, white, and blue dress fall to the floor. “I’m still your captain, Sergeant, and you will refer to me as such.”

He managed to pull his face into a serious line even with the laughter in his eyes, and he snapped you a crisp salute.

[shotgun--rider]

Fake It Till You Make It - Four

A Sam x Reader Series

PART FOUR

Y/N knows it’s a bad idea to try telling her family that she’s dating Sam Winchester. But it’s just for the week of her sister’s wedding, and it’s all fake anyway. What could go wrong?

Word Count: 3500

Warnings: plus size! Reader, fatphobic comments and self esteem issues, Y/N’s family are demons, gratuitous Meg pep talks because I love her and I’m sorry

A/N: Sorry for taking forever, being a depressed squid took more of my time than planned. Also sorry for any pain this part may cause, I promise to fix it next time. 

Sam and your father returned from golfing the following afternoon relatively unscathed. A few jokes were made about a lawyer not knowing how to golf, but they were surprisingly good natured, considering your family’s penchant for throwing passive-aggressive barbs around. Sam just took it in stride, the same way he had with everything that had been thrown at both of you this week, with a smile and a nod and a hand on whatever part of you was within reach. 

You, on the other hand, were in freefall. You’d known on some level even back at Dean’s dinner table that it wasn’t a particularly great plan for you to bring Sam to your sister’s wedding, but you hadn’t anticipated the reality of playing this charade. He was everything you’d ever wanted, even earning the approval of the only family members that mattered (even if Meg did still like flirting with him) and none of it was real. Kissing him had only made it all worse, and Sam’s subsequent apology for blindsiding you that evening didn’t come close to making anything better. 

Now, the two of you were curled up in one lounge chair at Ruby’s behest, and you were pretty sure that this was some personal hell devised by the devil to torture you. You weren’t entirely sure why Ruby had felt that a pre-wedding family bonfire was necessary on her last night as an unmarried woman, but she’d insisted, so here you both were. 

Gramma Lilith, who was quickly becoming the primary villain here, had started fawning over the two of you the instant you made your appearance on the back lawn, somehow strong-arming you into sharing a seat and insisting that Sam could keep you warm. (Your arguments ranged from the overall midsummer heat to the fact that you were literally sitting in front of a fire, but you didn’t bother voicing them.)

Your first thought was to try to get through this as professionally as possible (if professional was even a word that could be applied to this shitshow) but the expensive chairs circling Aunt Abaddon’s fire pit were designed at too far of a reclined angle for you not to be basically laying on top of Sam. You tried your hand weakly at looking as relaxed as Ruby, sprawled nearby across her fiance, but internally, your heart was racing, muscles tensed like you wanted to run. 

“Okay?” Sam murmured into the top of your head, one hand tracing absent designs over your arm. 

“Peachy,” you grumbled back, sarcasm bleeding into your voice in spite of yourself. You were tucked mostly between him and the arm of the lounge chair, but there was still enough of your weight on him to make you decidedly uncomfortable. You gotta lose some of that weight before you try sitting on me, Dick had said to you once, all bright white teeth and supposedly innocent teasing. 

You tried in vain to keep your stupid fat thighs from touching him, like you could convince them to condense into a smaller space through sheer force of will. Of course, the laws of physics weren’t on your side, and all you succeeded in doing was wriggling around like a particularly uncomfortable worm, earning yourself a weird look from Meg over the fire and an awkward throat-clearing from Sam.

“Y/N,” he started, sounding vaguely strained. “Can you, um, not--”

“What about you two?” Meg said suddenly, loudly, knocking both of you out of your own awkward world. She was looking at you expectantly, and, you realized with a sinking stomach, so was most of the rest of your family. 

“Sorry, what?” 

Meg rolled her eyes. “What was your first date like?” she enunciated every word with exaggerated emphasis, shaking her head at you.

“Yes,” your mother chimed in, leaning forward with interest. “We’d love to hear what you did to make...this...happen,”

It was on the tip of your tongue to just give up and blurt out, we’ve never had one. Sam must have been able to feel the tension vibrating through you, though, and pulled you to settle back against him, taking over answering the question. 

“I met her through my brother,” he said easily, and you could vaguely feel him winding some of your hair up around his finger. “I came over one afternoon and there she was, asking his boyfriend if their bees could smell fear,” 

You flushed at the memory. Yeah, you’d agreed to use the real story of how you met, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t embarrassing. Poor Cas had had to spend a solid half hour convincing you that the bees weren’t going to attack you that day. 

“She had on this pink sundress, and I heard her laughing, and I just thought...she was beautiful. Took me forever to do anything about it, though,” Sam went on, and that was all true too, the dress you’d been wearing and the fit of laughter you and Cas had broken into when Sam first showed up in the backyard. You hadn’t expected him to remember that much detail, though, and it did something strange to your insides to listen to it. 

“I took her to the diner on 5th Street,” Sam admitted, still playing with your hair. “I was too afraid of screwing up to come up with something more original.” He sounded so adorably hesitant, even now, that your head was popping up before you could think about it, could remember that he was just weaving a story.

“Hey, I liked it fine,” you protested, and it hit you like a sudden gut punch that there was something to remember. Because the first time Sam took you anywhere was to the 5th Street diner that was halfway between your place and Dean’s. You’d only done it to plan something for Dean’s birthday last year, and of course it wasn’t a real date, but the two of you really had been there. 

Sam’s only limit in this conversation was the world of his own imagination. If he wanted to, he could have told everyone that he’d taken you skydiving in New Zealand for your first date, and yet here he was, using memories from your real life with a dopey smile on his face. 

“Sickening,” Meg was saying dryly, a smirk on her lips to take the sting out of it. “Hey, Y/N, when you marry him, can I wear jeans?” If there was anything you should have been deflecting, it was that, squashing thoughts of marriage from the group’s mind before anyone latched onto it, but all you said was, “I’ll think about it,”

That was apparently enough to satisfy Meg, and the conversation moved on to other things that thankfully weren’t focused on you and Sam. You sighed heavily, and Sam slid one big palm over your hair, tucking your head down to rest against his chest. It was comfortable, and you were too tired in the flickering firelight to keep worrying, and you let yourself melt against him, absorbing his warmth as your eyes fluttered shut. Sam never let up on combing his hands through your hair, lulling you into a half-conscious state that barely registers anything beyond overlapping voices and the pop of the bonfire and Sam. 

It occurred to you suddenly, as you drifted somewhere between awareness and spaced-out calm, that it had been a very long time since someone had just held you. None of your family had ever been particularly tactile, save for the required gestures and whatever new tactic your mother was using to disguise her fussing. Dean and Cas and Charlie always gave you a hug when they saw you, but they were quick, always moving on to something else. And you’d never once had a boyfriend that held you for anything more than sex. 

“Hey,” Sam murmured lowly against the top of your head. “Still with me, darlin’?”

You blinked sleepily, raising your head to peer up at him, and he gave a low chuckle that you felt more than heard, smiling gently at you. 

“It’s late. Unless you wanna sleep out here?” he raised an eyebrow at you teasingly, shifting underneath you to sit up a bit more. 

A quick glance around showed that you were the only ones left outside, somehow, and the fire was nothing more than a handful of faintly glowing coals in the bottom of the pit. “How did we...where did everyone--” you tried, brain still not quite online enough to process how you’d somehow slept through everyone getting up and leaving. Knowing your family, they wouldn’t have been quiet about it. 

“I didn’t want to move you,” Sam shrugged sheepishly. “You seemed like you needed it,”

“Oh, yeah, I was probably drooling all over you,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes up into your skull. 

“S’fine,” Sam looked a little hesitant, a little awkward, but mostly he looked strangely content, and for just a moment, you could convince yourself that this was your real life, that you and Sam could do this whenever you wanted, that you could always be this close. 

“So I get to see you in a fancy dress tomorrow, huh?” Sam nudged you lightly, smiling. 

You huffed. “Don’t remind me, it’s ugly. It’s all...clingy,” you wrinkled your nose. 

“You make most things look good,” Sam promised, like it was the obvious thing to say and didn’t send your stomach flipping around rebelliously. 

“That’s very nice of you to say,” you said with mock sweetness before scowling at him, “and also a blatant lie.”

“Is not,” Sam looked affronted, and you were struck with a sudden desire to kiss the pout off of his soft lips. Damn it, Y/N, don’t you dare go there, you snapped at yourself instantly. 

“God, I can’t wait for this week to be over,” you groaned out instead, trying to pull the conversation onto safer ground. You flashed him a cheerful smile, your words more a reminder to yourself than to him when you tack on teasingly, “You’re almost off the hook, boyfriend,” Of course, because the universe hated you and took great pleasure in reminding you, it took very little to send everything sliding downhill from there. 

Sam’s answering smile didn’t reach his eyes, and he shifted slightly in the chair, as if he was debating something. “Y/N, I--”

“We’re so close to not having to spend every waking moment together,” you chirped, like an idiot, and, still sitting inches away from the man you had to remember you could not have, you watched hurt and something darker flash across his expression. 

Sam clenched his jaw, taking a breath in like he was going to say something, and then, for the second time in as many days, slammed his lips into yours without any warning. 

Conscious thought turned into static as you surrendered to the onslaught of his mouth moving over yours, sending a bolt of electricity flying through your entire body. If Sam’s kiss on the driveway was tinged with desperation, this one was worse. As cliche as you knew it sounded, Sam kissed you like a starving man, hands sliding across your back to pull you impossibly closer as he devoured your mouth, swallowing your meep of surprise and sliding his tongue against yours.

Sam shifted beneath you in the chair, abruptly bringing you into contact with the noticeable bulge in his well-worn jeans, and it was more instinct than anything else that had you grinding down against him, pulling a choked sound out of his throat that only encouraged you. There was a heady thrill in knowing that it was you doing this, Sam doing more in five minutes to make you feel desirable than anyone else ever had, and the slide of your bodies felt strangely inevitable, like it was the matching other half to the sensation that had been stuck in your chest since you turned off the freeway in Sam’s car a week ago. 

You wondered for a split second if his touch would still be able to set you on fire the same way if he hadn’t spent days smiling at you, talking you up, defending you, and the harsh reminder of why you were even here at all hit you like ice water. You scrambled to your feet so quickly that you narrowly missed kneeing Sam in the crotch, and then you were backing away, your hands flying uselessly around your face to push your hair back and somehow wipe the blush off your cheeks. 

You couldn’t do this. You were supposed to know better. And you weren’t going to let Sam Winchester break your heart, even unintentionally, because you didn’t know if you could survive that. 

“What are you doing?” you hissed out, straightening your clothes hastily.

Sam scrambled to sit up in the reclined lounge chair, confusion painted across his face and his chest still heaving with ragged breaths that should not have been affecting you the way they were. “W-what?”

You threw your hands up, impatience and anger rising up to protect you from the weight of your fear. “There’s nobody watching us, Sam. There’s no point in faking it,”

“Faking it,” Sam echoed flatly, hazel eyes flicking over you rapidly like he was trying so hard to understand. It might have been a little heartbreaking if you weren’t too preoccupied with guarding yours. 

“Yeah,” you went on, digging yourself further because you never knew when to stop. “Look, I know we’ve been putting on a show but you can’t just--” you trailed off limply, not even trying anymore to label the storm of emotions in your ribcage. “People like us don’t do this for real,” Guys like you don’t look at girls like me. 

“Huh. Well I’m glad I could help you with your show,” Sam spat out coldly, and you froze at the tone. You’d heard it once before, when Sam had once taken apart Castiel’s asshat older brother over immigration politics, and Luke had yet to show his face since. Charlie called it the I went to Stanford law now let me tell you all the reasons this argument is over voice. And you’d never once thought it would be directed at you. 

“Sam, I--”

He was already gone, a rapidly shrinking shadow disappearing into the house on long legs you couldn’t hope to catch up with. Fuck. 

You spent the night before Ruby’s wedding staring at the ceiling, hands folded across your chest and so still you could probably have passed for a medieval tomb effigy. Beside you in the dark, Sam’s breaths were too shallow, too even to pass for sleep, but neither of you said a word. He’d already had the lights off by the time you convinced your leaden legs to carry you back into the house and up the stairs, and you’d just changed into pajamas like a robot and laid down in defeat. You didn’t sleep. 

Sam had no day-of obligations, so you left him in bed when the sun finally rose, swallowing against the sick pit in your stomach and making your way to Ruby’s bedroom, where there was already enough shrieking to compound the headache drilling through your skull. For the first time, though, you actually felt grateful for your sister and her antics--the storm of chaos she was whipping up and her endless, high-pitched demands left you with no brain space to think about your monumental fuck-up the night before. 

You jammed a pin into your hair impatiently, cursing when the ends slipped out of your fingers for the hundredth time, and bit down hard on your red-painted lip. The maid of honor didn’t get to throw a tantrum on the wedding day. 

“Well don’t you look like cold shit,” Meg commented dryly, her head popping up in the mirror over your shoulder. She was already dressed, wearing the gray bridesmaid dress fair better than you were going to, and she snapped her fingers impatiently. “Gimme,”

You put the card of hair pins into her hand wordlessly, fighting the irrational sting of tears in your eyes when she coiled your hair up easily, looking for just a second like she was your little cousin again, soaking wet on the bathroom floor and laughing. 

“Is Ruby getting to you?” she murmured, a calculating look on her face as she studied you in the mirror, trying to crack your shitty mood. “You’re almost done, you know.”

“Yeah, no, I know,” you said hollowly. 

Meg cocked her head, reaching around you for a bottle of hairspray. “Okay, not Ruby. Which is shocking, by the way. So what gives?”

“Nothing,”

“Wow. You’re usually better at bullshitting than this.” She arched a brow. “Tell you what. I can cover you for five minutes, go find your boy. Can’t have you moping your way down the aisle, Ruby’ll kill you if you ruin the photos.”

“Sam can’t do anything,” you returned flatly, leaning forward mechanically toward the mirror to examine your slightly-wobbly eyeliner. 

“Sure he can. Boy’s so in love with you it’s nauseating,” Meg countered cheerfully, making a face at you. 

“He’s not,”

Meg scrunched up her face at those words, frowning as she pulled up the bodice of her dress. “What’d you do, have a fight or something? Jesus, just kiss and make up,”

“It’s fake,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself, and once you’d started, it took very little for the whole story to come pouring out to the one person that might listen. “It’s fake, the whole thing’s fake, he’s...he’s just Dean’s brother, we wanted to get my mom off my back--” You took a shuddering breath, wincing at how stupidly hysterical the whole thing made you sound.

“Bullshit,” Meg declared solidly, grabbing the eyeliner pen out of your hand impatiently. “Give me that, you’re doing a shit job.”

You surrendered to the gale force that was your cousin, letting her manhandle your head into her preferred position and shutting your eyes obediently while she drew a neat line across your eyelid. “No, Meg, it’s--”

“It’s bullshit,” she repeated, holding up a hand to stop you as you reopened your eyes to protest. “No, I don’t care what you’re gonna say. Maybe it was fake for you, but there’s no way in hell anybody could fake the way he looks at you. That boy is so gone on you it’s not even funny. He’s your unicorn, and I’m kinda jealous, so whatever you did,” she narrowed her eyes. “Fix it.”

“Meg, you don’t understand--”

“Yeah, you’re damn right I don’t understand.” She cut you off, crossing her arms and somehow managing to look just as intimidating in a bridesmaid’s dress as she did in a black leather jacket. “This family is a shitshow. I know it, you know it, everybody knows it. So why are you still listening to them?”

“I don’t--” you started weakly.

“Just because you’re not a size two and marrying into the Roman Enterprises fortune doesn’t mean anything, Y/N. You don’t not deserve him, or whatever, so get your fucking head on straight.” Meg rolled her eyes, gesturing to the dress hanging next to you in a clear sign that her warm fuzzy conversation capacity had been reached. “Get dressed.”

It took you a long time to obey, staring at yourself in the little mirror station that Aunt Abaddon had had set up for everyone in the bridal party to get ready. As you zipped up the clingy gray dress, Meg’s blunt words bouncing around in your head, your eyes catalogued every curve, every flaw you’d had memorized and hated by the time you were thirteen. It was just something you lived with, a low hum in the back of your conscious that reminded you not to pose the wrong way for photos and to stay away from bikinis and to adjust the way your clothes fit when you sat down. 

Except Sam had never once made you feel that you had to. Sam made you feel like a person before a body, somehow convinced you that the words your family had been hurling at you for years were lies, and when he called you beautiful you wanted to believe him. And as Meg’s words echoed in your head once more, you wondered if maybe, just maybe, she was right about some of it. 

You pinched your lips into a wry smile in the mirror, giving yourself one last cursory onceover before you resolutely turned away to go see if Ruby was ready. Your job today was to be a maid of honor. And anything else, no matter what Meg thought she knew...you knew it was already too late. 

tags: @vicmc624​ @thebookisbtr​ @alicedopey​ @still-a-demon-very-ineffable​

[littlebabycrybtch]

bro..... im sooo tired of ppl being whiny freaks about ppl liking fictional shit ‘~too much~’. like bitches are literally fully convinced if you prefer acting out certain ideas in fiction but not irl, thats not your normal preferential boundaries but rather your brain is a mental illness BOMB and you need to be fucking hospitalized for being imaginative and having autonomy. like yall if its not taboo or smth shut uuuuhp man you’re not ‘concerned for their health’ or w/e you’re fully just tryna get away with being a nihilistic asshole who lacks sympathetic reasoning skills. listen to me. fiction is valuable. the thoughts we have on it are important. the personal lack of value you happen to put on a media is next to worthless. its not a fuckin waste of time dude, creators are people, who live in the real world, they experience it and have ideas through it and about it, they form and tweak their ideas while still definitely existing in the real world, and then put that back into the world with a new angle and new perspective, to share with other people definitely encountering it in , you guessed it , the real world. thats not disconnected. its not nothing. these things do not magically appear from fairytale land, they are created. stories mean smth, people tell them for a reason, its ok to feel smth for any story, why would we even tell them if not with the intention to impact others emotionally somehow i mean??? fiction does not Just affect reality, it is valuable to real life society, it is a functioning thriving part OF reality. 

humans have told stories since the dawn of our existence. it is literally all but an inherent species trait for us to imagine things, its tied to each and every one of us, and to reject ‘fantasy’ as smth worthless to human life is frankly just fuckin wrong and weird of you. bitch we are Supposed to get outside the box, the fandom ppl you cringe your pants over arent thinking abt fake shit too much, you guys very often just arent exercising abstract thought and imagination enough, which actually hurts your ability to engage with it critically in all the ways its meant to be. if you dont see the value in fiction its because you put in no effort to form the analysis skills. in other words, you idiots dont get the hype bc you’re too stupid to get how you're supposed to compare a book to the real world it came from. ‘uu but cmon not everythings valuable what about [tumblr designated cringe media]-’ 1. ok! somehow you havent come to this conclusion yourself yet but thats not real, whatever ppl get to enjoy is not all abt you, your bias means less than dirt to others outside of hivemind social medias, you can keep it to yourself, ppl shouldnt care about it bc it means nothing outside of ur own space, its literally funny to me that you’re so elitist you want me to cater my interests to you, Your Standard Of Quality Isnt Universal, 2. ranking the values of fiction is the waste of time here, if you compare mlp to pride and prejudice ill dissect your teeth, different emotional impacts from tragic to funny to Just A Vibe are all able to be assessed as ‘valuable to somebody else so leave well enough alone’ if you dont have 2010+ funnyman brainrot disease that makes you incapable of reflecting on anything you can find a way to joke abt first.

i mean seriously like. whenever randos start engaging with medias you ppl dont like or in ways you dont get, the strawmans yall make up to get to be cringe culture vultures abt such benign shit, and almost Always at the expense of neurodivergent people with a deeply rooted undertone of extreme ableism might i add..... its just so selfish. u have a brain ok, you’re manipulative but we both know you dont Actually think ppl automatically default to being a waifu obsessed incel rotting away at their basement computer, stagnating their social skills and straying further and further from reality with each passing day, a poor disturbed wretch that you just HAVE to save from themselves, all bc they say they. prefer fictional porn or w/e to having sex irl. buddy thats not a big deal, theyre normal, just different from you. theyre fine, you’re just uncomfortable. as a functioning adult you’re gonna have to try and recognize that sometimes that feelings gonna be 100% on you, and you cant always just lie abt the validity of it to make ppl feel obligated into agreeing with you. this is gonna be one fragment of their personhood and your self obsessed brain imploding over how unrelatable that is doesnt fucking matter, grow up bitch like. how detached do you have to be to think thats so unstable or morally wrong.... its just a completely inconsequential preferential decision that only affects them and isnt a wrong choice at all cuz nobody has to get their dick wet if they dont wanna for any reason ever and thats gotta be that tbh.... and it kills me cuz they still inherently experience the real world and are capable of thinking abt it critically,,, even tho they... masturbate to drawings or w/e the fuck ppl think is unhealthy ???? like? imagination is just fun we dont need to moderate it anymore than we moderate other fun activities i mean lol ksdjfsd this is the DEFINITION of ‘just vibing’ no one FUCKING cares and it deosnt fucking matter the way you desperately try to make ppl think it does just so u get to be loud abt ur shortcomings as a decent understanding person. 

‘uuuuuu im sorry but thats unhealthy :///’ you sound like a goddamn maniac dude stories are not unhealthy having feelings abt them is not unhealthy thinking some anime bitch that was DRAWN TO BE HOT , IS HOT, is not UNHEALTHY and you clowns arent convincing anybody you ‘care’ abt that concept anyways !! im losign my mind here skdlsdfsd medias are literally DESIGNED TO DO THIS TO PEOPLE... WE’RE SUPPOSED TO FEEL THINGS FOR IT.... IT IS WHAT MAKES THE ART WE’VE TAKEN PART IN FOR CENTURIES, “ART”.... ITS JUST... HAVING IDEAS AND EXPERIENCING IMAGINATION..... whats wildly unhealthy actually is yalls toxic obsession with ‘harsh truth’ and validating your stupid ass cwinge feewings to the point where everything that gives your underdeveloped selfish ass hives has to be a matter of health and morals and whats ‘best’ for everyone. u dont know that shit!!!! ur a petty brat and im not ur mommy ok i wont baby you so u dont feel like the shitty whiny person you are, you need to grow and do better and think outside urself already, dont put the responsibility of making u feel right for judging somebodies benign hobbies on me. i wont bc its wrong and unnecessary. you’re not a savior no ones falling for that lmao you’re just a bitch girl xoxo get over it shit truly does not matter. let them write nsfw self insert fics instead of banging !! 

to make it real do yall really not Get that basic consent kinda doesnt just mean ‘no when im not in the mood at the time’ but it means ‘no if i just dont fuckin feel like having sex ever for literally any reason at all bc i choose what i do’ and pressuring them, even with what your warped brain translates as the best of intentions, is inherently disgusting? especially with the ‘i know how to help you’ attitude like......... ohhh die soonly ew lmao! lay off this nasty shit already please it doesnt matter! stop trying to make it matter!! its not hurting you or them you stupid tumblr phd ass!! and like again yeah some media shits just truly gross but tbr now its like even That kind of shit, the Real social issues caused by Actually problematic media that ppl should discuss Genuinely without ulterior motives, is being used more and more rampantly as just a stepping stone to get to the needless mockery of other harmless things in the media they want an excuse to bag on.......... like a bitch cant just be grown and talk about problems at face value without getting a bully jab in. smhhhhh you all fuckin suck please just stop talking already. so anyways yeah being attracted to fictional characters instead of real people or w/e IS funny, funny how many boyfriends they have when u have none xoxo theyre having fun and you can die sad abt it they get to die 5 times in an angsty fantasy fic and be brought back with mouth to mouth by fuckin kakashi every time and then they go get lunch irl while ur updating tinder bitch ... different fucking strokes ig !

[lostinmysticfalls]

Faded Fantasy | Chapter 1

Pairing: Javier x Fem!Reader/OC, Javier x Helena (implied)

Summary:  Javier hasn’t been the same since Medellin. Watching Helena go through hell after everything she did for him messed him up more than he imagined. He’s always had a habit of fucking away the pain and using sex as an escape. But this time he’s really spiraling, and the end is nowhere in sight.  

Words: 2,497

Warnings: smut, alcohol, third-person POV, non canon compliant, emotional angst, consenting age-gap

A/N: This is gonna get dark and angsty because I refuse to believe that Javi was fine after what happened to Helena in 1x02. I have many, many feelings about those two, and this idea wouldn't leave me alone. Title comes from "My Favourite Faded Fantasy" by Damien Rice (if you haven't heard it, take a listen and prepare to be sad)

Read on AO3

Chapter 1 - Guilt

They weren’t all the same, even though Javier pretended like they were. The girls came and went freely, without strings attached, without commitment. But there was only one who had remained his constant. The one who he’d call up when he not only needed to relieve some stress but also when that pang of loneliness struck his chest late at night. 

There really were no rules for his interactions with her. Javier could be sweet and lighthearted or crude and dominant, he could be anything he wanted with her. He never told her but he even enjoyed the way in which she'd stake her claim on him whenever they were together, even if it was only for a couple short hours. Helena was unconditional and loyal to the point of even risking her own life for him. 

She had been unbreakable until that night.

In the deep confines of his mind he knew that she was important. That he cared about her more than any of the other girls. The way she used to laugh filled him with inexplicable warmth, and her ability to be careless and free filled him with a sense of wonderment he’d never really experienced with anyone else. She had a wild spirit that had remained pure despite the calamities and grim reality of the world around her. 

Helena was his favorite faded fantasy. One that he could have held on to forever had he not been too afraid to connect on a deeper level—always recoiling whenever the walls he’d built around would start to crumble. One he could've fiercely protected had he just done a better job at pulling her out of the grasps of evil in time. 

Javier couldn’t escape the thought of her.

Not even in his dreams.

She’s sitting in the back of an ambulance with a blanket wrapped around her, completely shattered. Not a trace of the girl he’d interacted with just a few days prior.

The pain in his chest is excruciating, his throat constricting into a knot as the oxygen leaves his lungs.

“Helena.” He says, looking at her with sorrowful eyes, just a ghost of the man he used to be. The guilt eating at him like acid eroding his entrails.

Her head is down, her blank stare is focused on the ground but her mind is somewhere else. She is unresponsive, taking shallow breaths, her chest barely rising as she trembles.

“Helena, perdóname. Perdóname por no haber llegado a tiempo.” He begs her, apologizing for letting her walk into the devil’s den unprotected. For not getting there in time to save her.

Javier jolted awake, like a man gasping for air as he's drowning. 

Sweat having dampened the sheets he’d been sleeping on, his heart racing like he'd just been sprinting up a flight of stairs. He was stuck in that period of time right after a nightmare, when your body is too deep in shock to even move. When all your senses are trying to realign themselves while your mind slowly adjusts to reality again. 

The minutes passed, his breathing gradually stabilizing.

Once the feelings of dread had subsided, he rolled over on the bed, reaching for the box of cigarettes on his nightstand. He lit one, then a second, and a third, until the sun started to come up and slowly began brightening his bedroom. 

Afraid to fall back asleep for fear of seeing her again.

* * * * *

It was late at night when the young woman tending the bar saw Javier walking in. The look on his face said he'd had a tough day at the office and the badge attached to the front of his jeans was practically screaming, get the fuck away from me. A people repellent if she’d ever seen one.

She smiled to herself, checking the shelf for the bottle of his favorite spirit. Javier had been there plenty of times before for her to know he liked his whiskey neat. Truth be told, she’d had her eye on him for a while. He was older, handsome and charming, and she was a weakling for his moody attitude and enigmatic smile. It didn’t take much for it to always pull her under. Not to mention, the low vibrations of his captivating voice made her center contract and quiver in inexplicable ways every time he spoke. 

She hadn’t stopped thinking about him since the first day she met him and she had decided tonight would be the night she’d muster up the courage to do more than just make brief mentions of the weather. 

Her gaze panned over him as he took a seat on the barstool, both elbows on the flat surface of the long wooden bar. 

“Good evening, Agent Peña.” She said, suggestively leaning toward him, the neckline of her shirt allowing a peek at her cleavage. “Rough day?”

Javier sighed. “Day, week, month… you name it.” 

Her laugh was melodic. “I think I got what you need." She winked. "Whiskey? Neat?” 

He nodded, rubbing his hand over his mouth and mustache as if impatient. Taking a note of how short her skirt was when she turned around and reached for the bottle on the top shelf. 

His brown eyes focused on her task, watching as she poured the reddish brown liquid into the glass. Her smile was brighter than usual, bedroom eyes peering at him behind her long eyelashes. Pushing the drink in his direction, she casually brushed her hand over his as he went to grab the glass. 

Javier took a sip, expecting her to walk away but to his surprise, she stuck around. 

“You ever drink with the customers?” He asked, compelled to make small talk.

She grinned. “Sometimes, when they buy.”

He gestured to the bottle. “I wouldn’t mind a drinking partner tonight.” He took a cigarette out of his inside pocket and placed it between his lips. 

It didn’t take much for her to oblige. She needed the liquid courage anyway if her plan to get him alone was going to come to fruition. 

Three drinks later and they had both loosened up quite a bit. Openly flirting with each other as they talked about trivial things and she expressed her gratitude for his hard work.

“You know, it’s not every day you get to meet a real life hero.” She said, touching his hand and letting it linger. Her fingers moving over his knuckles playfully. “Everyone in this bar should be paying for your drinks.” 

Javier cleared his throat, his whole demeanor changing, the lines on his forehead becoming more pronounced as he knitted his eyebrows together. “I’m not a fucking hero.” He scoffed. “Not even close.” 

It hadn’t been true for Helena. If he hadn’t put her in that situation she’d still be there and not tucked away in some convent in the middle of nowhere. He would probably be with her in that moment if things hadn’t gone awry. Instead, he was there, trying to drown his sorrows in whiskey and cigarettes. And yeah, maybe some pussy too. 

“Well, I find you to be a very impressive man.” She admitted. “I really admire your courage and everything you and your team are doing for this country.” 

His eyes trailed over her features. She had to have been at least a decade younger than him but there was no denying that she was very attractive. Did she look like her? Not in the slightest, but her interest in him kept him hooked. He had left the station with the intention of doing more than just having a drink but this hadn’t been the way he imagined the night going. Not that he was disappointed. 

“I just wish there was something I could do to show my appreciation.” She bit her lip, caressing his arm over the long sleeves of his jacket. 

The alcohol had certainly done its job at obliterating all inhibitions.

Javier grabbed her wrist, gently wrapping his fingers around it. “How old are you?”

“Old enough.” She said, glancing at his slightly parted lips. “I’m serving alcohol behind a bar, aren’t I?” 

He looked her up and down, the hum of his voice making her shiver. “You look like a nice girl.” 

She laughed. “I am a nice girl. But even nice girls do bad things every now and then.” The way Javier’s eyes grew darker with devious intent made her center throb and ache with want. “Do you like bad girls, Agent Peña?”

He smiled, looking away for a minute to think about what she was implying. If it wasn’t her that night, it’d be someone else. Javier was tired of the grief. He needed to feel something other than pain and numbness, and she had practically fallen on his lap without him even trying. 

She checked her watch. “Behind those doors,” she pointed to the tall double doors in the back of the bar, “Is an employee bathroom.” Her smile widened as she started to walk away. “I’ll be taking my break in ten minutes when the other bartender starts her shift.”

He watched as she went to tend to other awaiting customers, meanwhile finishing the last of his drink in peace. When he was done, he took out his wallet, leaving a few bills on the bar before checking to make sure he still had a condom stashed in there somewhere. 

* * * * *

Her lips were ravenous, kissing him desperately as she rubbed herself on him and ran her hands across his chest. The bathroom was filthy and uncomfortable, definitely not made for two bodies to move about at the same time. The light fixture on the wall was barely holding on, its yellow glow bouncing off the rusted mirror and dirty sink. Javier kept bumping into the wall, every time he tried to maneuver around her. 

“I have fifteen minutes.” She said, pushing him against the door and immediately undoing his pants. Only pulling them down to his thighs, just enough to have access to him.

Javier gaped at her as she took him in her hand. His dick wasn’t hard enough yet, something that was a bit unusual for him but that he’d attributed to the excessive amount of stress he was under and his lack of sleep. 

“I’m not quite ready—”

“That’s okay.” She purred as she went down on him. “I like to feel it grow in my mouth.” 

That admission alone made his cock twitch. With a lick of her lips, she began sucking him off. Enjoying the way his limp dick increased in size every time she took him in, and loving the way it hardened against the roof of her mouth with each twirl of her scorching tongue. The heat and suction of her mouth making it stiffen until his blood vessels were pounding against her lips. 

The slurping noises she was making were driving him mad. She licked him from his base all the way to his tip, sucking on his head as one hand gripped him and jerked him off. Her other hand playing with his rigid balls while she devoured every inch of him. 

“I want you to fuck my mouth.” She said, looking up at him with lustful eyes.

Javier didn't hesitate. He put his hands on her head, holding her still as he began thrusting his hips into her. Her hot, wet crevice felt so good he began pounding into it with more force. Over and over. His mind was finally occupied with something other than remorse and he willfully lost himself in the new feeling with each passing second.

It wasn’t until he looked down at her again and heard the sounds of her gagging that he finally stopped. Realizing that maybe he was being a little rougher than she’d wanted.

She sucked his cock a few more times and then wiped her mouth, getting up from the floor and leaning back against the sink.

Pulling up her skirt she moaned. “You want this?” 

Javier licked his lips. “Yes.” He muttered, yanking down her underwear. 

The sink space was barely big enough for her to recline against it, she used it mainly to steady to herself as she lifted up one leg and propped it against the wall next to her. 

He quickly slapped on the rubber, gliding his tip along her wet slit before delving between her entrance and filling her up. With one aggressive tug he pulled her shirt and bra down, the neckline stretching until her breasts were spilling out of it.

“Fuck.” She muttered. “You feel so fucking good.” 

Javier slammed into her, a hand grabbing one tit, not worrying about starting out slow or getting her warmed up first. He wanted to fuck her hard and senseless to the point of oblivion. Her hands clung to his shoulders, the bathroom mirror fogging up from their heavy breathing as the minutes ticked by.

Her little moans started to get out of hand, increasing in volume the longer he pound into her. 

“I’m gonna come.” She whimpered. 

“Shhh.” He said, putting a finger up to her lips. “Calladita.” Reminding her to keep quiet. 

He crashed into her again, his tip continuously making contact with her sweet spot until it was too much for her to handle. Moments later, his actions inevitably triggered her unraveling. Javier put his hand over her mouth in order to stifle her cries as she came undone.

He didn’t last much longer after that. When he was ready to finish, he pulled out of her. 

Something possessed him to pull off the condom, wanting the end to be as messy and dirty as the place in which he’d decided to fuck her. With one firm grip on his cock, he began pumping it furiously, reaching his climax in a matter of seconds. The ribbons of hot come spurt out of him, shooting all over the sink and splattering on the foggy mirror as he let out a few muffled grunts.

They both cleaned up fairly quickly, not saying much to each other after they were done.  

She haphazardly wiped the mirror down and splashed water on the sink before smoothing out her clothes and hastily fixing her hair.

“I’ll see you around?” Her voice was hushed as she opened the door, preparing to go back out to continue her shift.

Javier pursed his lips and gave her a weak nod. 

They both knew it wouldn’t happen. 

She smiled, knowing very well that this was a one-time, meaningless thing. She’d always been a sucker for his type. Men with too many issues to pursue anything serious but who knew exactly how to please a woman. It was nothing knew to her, she was used to the quick goodbyes and she didn't mind them.

As for Javier, he had already made up his mind the moment he agreed to the hookup, and there was no way in hell he’d be showing his face around there after that night. 

~  ~  ~  ~  ~

Thank you so much for reading! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Please, let me know if you enjoyed this first chapter and I will do my best to update soon :) Tag list is open. 

[prouvaireafterdark]

Untouched

I make no apologies for this. Y’all asked for filth, so here’s 5k+ words of it.

Also, this fic exists in an alternate timeline where Michael never slept with Maria or went to her after Caulfield, but they’re still not together yet because they’re giving the whole friendship thing a go while they sort their bullshit out.

Written for this RNM Kinkmeme prompt. Should go without saying this is nsfw

Also on AO3

***

Intellectually, Michael knows this is a bad idea.

Not the worst he’s ever had, but it’s definitely up there.

Michael considers throwing his phone out the window of his Airstream to save him from himself, but he’s hard enough to pound nails and if his recent sexual experiments have taught him anything it’s that there’s only one person who can help him right now.

Before he can talk himself out of it, he sends a text.

Alex is sitting on the edge of his bed, about to take his prosthetic off for the night, when his phone buzzes on the nightstand. Buffy lifts her head up at the noise from where she’s curled up on the bedspread, but then huffs and lowers her head, disinterested.

Alex sighs and reaches for it, hoping to God it’s not that blue-haired twink he went home with the other night after the Senses Fail concert. A clean break is what they both need after that mess of a—

Oh. It’s from Guerin.

Alex unlocks his phone, strangely relieved that there might be some new alien emergency he’s got to deal with instead of the aggressively nice guy who couldn’t make him come no matter how hard he tried—and oh did he try, whispering encouragements as he jerked Alex off whenever he wasn’t sucking on him, trying and failing to get him hard enough to fuck him.

It wasn’t that the guy was unattractive or bad with his mouth or even that Alex didn’t want it, because he did want it. It was that every time Alex has tried to get off lately he just—cant. Sooner or later, his thoughts shift to Michael and it’s like a shock of cold water to his libido remembering that Michael’s not his and that whatever he’s doing is never going to compare to the, quite frankly, epic sex he’s had with him.

He’d hoped a meaningless hookup would be the answer to his problem, but leave it to Alex to pick up a hot guy without even a passing resemblance to Michael and spend the whole time they’re in bed together thinking about honey-brown eyes and unruly curls.

In any case, he’ll gladly take an extraterrestrial crisis over having to hear the words “Hey, it’s okay, dude, I’ve heard this happens sometimes to a lot of guys,” ever again.

Shaking the memory from his mind, Alex goes to his messages to read Michael’s text. When he finds it, he stares at it, caught somewhere between confused and annoyed.

U up? the message reads.

Is Guerin… Is this a booty call?

As sexually frustrated as Alex is these days, they’d agreed they weren’t going to do this. They literally had a sit down about it last month where they laid out boundaries for their new friendship so they wouldn’t fall into old habits while they got to know each other again and late night booty calls were specifically off the fucking menu.

Alex is calling him before he can even think to stop himself, his fingers braced on the bridge of his nose while it rings.

Michael picks up on the third ring and Alex doesn’t even let him get a ‘hey’ in before he’s asking, “Did you really send me a ‘u up?’ text like you’re some kind of undergrad fuckboy?”

Michael laughs abruptly like he wasn’t expecting Alex to say that. “Sorry. Too worked up to be original,” he apologizes, and there goes any doubt in Alex’s mind that Michael might not be hitting him up for sex right now.

A surge of want rises inside him in spite of himself and he wonders what Michael looks like right now. Is his hair mussed like he’s been running his fingers through it over and over? Is his bottom lip pink and bitten raw where he’s worried at it with his teeth? Is he spread out on his mattress in the Airstream, naked and fisting his cock while he talks to him?

His mouth waters just thinking about it, and—fuck, no, he can’t do this. Why is he even considering it? He can’t let Michael ruin their progress like this, he can’t—

“You called, though, so that’s a good sign,” Michael adds suddenly.

Alex is so distracted by his internal struggle that all he can think to ask is “A sign of what?”

When Michael answers, his voice is low and rough. “That maybe I’m not the only one who needs this.”

Alex hates how that voice turns his belly to liquid. His cock twitches in interest, but Alex refuses to let himself be swayed so easily. “That’s not—that’s not the point, Guerin,” Alex argues indignantly.

“So you do, huh?” Michael asks, a smug quality to his voice that wasn’t there before. “You need it too?”

“We said we wouldn’t do this,” Alex argues, holding onto whatever scraps of sanity he can grasp.

“Not an answer, baby,” Michael drawls. Alex can hear his self-satisfied smile.

“Just jerk off and go to bed,” Alex snaps, trying and failing to ignore the way the pet name makes him feel. God, he really needs to get off the phone before he does something stupid.

“Unless you wanna talk me through it, I don’t think that’s gonna work for me,” Michael responds ruefully and isn’t that a thought. “My solo act hasn’t been very successful lately.”

“Then go find someone else,” he grumbles, though it pains him. They’d agreed they could—should, even—see other people, but it’s one thing to vaguely know Michael’s sleeping around and it’s another thing to tell him to do it.

“No.” The simple negative makes Alex release a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding.

“Why not?”

“Because no one else can make me come.”

Michael says it like it’s obvious and Alex is about to argue that that’s ridiculous, but then remembers that he himself had the most uncomfortable blow job of his life the other night, so he supposes he knows what Michael’s talking about. Still, he’s not about to let that statement go unquestioned.

“I’m flattered, but what makes you so sure?” Alex asks.

“Empirical data.”

“What?” Whatever he’d been expecting to hear, it certainly wasn’t scientific jargon.

“I’ve been experimenting,” Michael admits.

“Experimenting,” Alex repeats flatly.

“I’m a scientist, it’s what I do.” Alex can practically hear him shrug over the phone. “Call it a scientific inquiry into my inability to orgasm. With terrible results, I might add, but I didn’t text you to tell you about all the bad sex I’ve been having.”

Alex doesn’t want to hear about all that bad sex either. “And how are you so sure it’ll be any different with me?”

“Because it’s always different with you,” says Michael softly and there goes all the wind out of Alex’s sails.

“Michael…” Alex whispers, clutching his phone to his ear. How is it that Michael always knows just what to say to break down all of his defenses?

“Look, I know we made a deal,” Michael starts. “It might not seem like it right now, but that does matter to me and I don’t want to go back on it if it’s going to break us.”

Alex’s heart beats faster at the word us, but he tries not to dwell on it. “I’m sensing a ‘but’ here,” he says.

“But,” Michael concedes, “I miss you. And, correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you miss me too.”

“Of course I miss you,” Alex says. “This has never been about me not missing you.”

“What’s it about then?” Michael asks softly. “Because from where I’m sitting, there’s no point in denying ourselves something we need that we’re both so good at giving to each other.”

God, Alex wants to say yes. He wants to throw caution to the wind and crash into Michael like he’s always done. He wants to feel Michael’s warmth beneath him, around him, wants to hear those precious little gasps he makes as Alex fucks him, wants to look into Michael’s eyes as he comes undone, but… if they’re going to do this, Michael needs to make a choice.

“I can’t have casual, uncomplicated sex with you, Michael,” Alex says, and he hears Michael sigh, imagines him hanging his head in disappointment. Alex swallows before adding, “It’s all or nothing. If… If we do this, there’s no going back.”

Michael seems to digest that for a moment before asking, his voice carefully controlled, “What are you saying?”

The fact that Michael is asking for clarification instead of making assumptions gives Alex hope that maybe this can work. Maybe they’re ready this time.

“I’m saying that I’m not going to fuck up the last chance I have to build something real between us for a one night stand,” Alex explains, laying it all out there. “I want a relationship with you, Michael, a real, committed relationship that neither of us is going to run away from so if all you want is sex right now, I can’t give it to you.”

“I don’t want a one night stand. Alex, there’s nothing casual or uncomplicated about the way I feel about you,” Michael says, indignant and more than a little desperate. “If you’re telling me that the only way I can have you is if I have all of you… I mean, fuck, that’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Alex closes his eyes and takes a deep breath as those words sink in.

“Fuck. Fuck, okay. Come over.”

Alex is pacing around his living room when he hears Michael’s truck pull up outside. His stomach clenches a moment later when he hears a knock at the door. He takes a deep, steadying breath before he answers it.

Michael stands before him looking slightly disheveled in his oil-stained jeans and a flannel that’s been haphazardly buttoned. The porch light gives him an almost ethereal back glow, making him look every bit as otherworldly as he is. Michael’s always been beautiful, but there’s something about him tonight that takes Alex’s breath away.

“Hey,” Alex smiles.

“Hey,” Michael echoes.

“Get dressed in a hurry?” Alex asks, eyes stuck on the expanse of Michael’s chest peeking through the collar of his shirt.

Michael huffs a laugh, taking a step forward. “Maybe. That a complaint?”

“Definitely not.”

“Good,” Michael says, his smile turning a little wicked. “Figured my clothes would just end up decorating your floor in a few minutes anyway. What do you think?”

“I think you should get over here,” Alex says as he opens the door wider, and Michael heads straight for him.

They reach for each other in the same instant, Michael’s arms wrapping around Alex’s waist as Alex buries his hands in those gorgeous curls, tugging Michael into a searing kiss.

It—God, it feels so right that for a wild moment Alex thinks he’ll cry with how much he’s wanted this, how long he’s waited to have Michael ready and willing in his arms again. Michael’s fingers dig harder into the skin of Alex’s back, as if to claim him, and Alex wonders if Michael’s thinking the same thing.

The door slams shut seemingly of its own accord and Alex flinches a little at the noise, pulling away to look at it.

“Sorry,” Michael soothes, and it’s the steady pressure of Michael’s arms around him that keep him grounded in the moment. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” Alex says, and leans back into Michael’s space to kiss him again.

Alex lets Michael crowd him against the wall as he deepens the kiss, opening his mouth under the insistence of Michael’s tongue. He’s pleased to find he doesn’t taste like cheap whiskey and relishes the way Michael melts against him with a groan when he tugs a little harder at his curls.

Michael grinds his hips forward, making Alex feel the hard line of his cock through the layers of denim separating them. They rut against each other like teenagers, pressed flush together, the need for physical contact overtaking higher brain function. Michael gasps against Alex’s mouth when he bites down gently on his bottom lip and Michael decides he’s had enough. He starts kissing a trail downward, lingering at his neck where he sucks wet bruises into his skin to a chorus of Alex’s moans, marking him as Michael’s for all the world to see. Michael leans back to admire his work, a slow smirk making its way onto his lips, before he drops to his knees with a loud thunk.

Already well on its way, Alex’s cock reaches full hardness fast enough to make his head spin as he looks down at Michael on his knees like that, pressing his mouth against the bulge of Alex’s cock like he’s about to lick him through the fabric. Michael looks blissed out already and they’re still wearing all of their clothes.

“I don’t want to interrupt the moment you’re having right now,” Alex says, fighting a smile as he reaches for Michael’s curls and sweeps them off his forehead, “but these pants are getting a little tight.”

Michael laughs and looks up at him with sparkling eyes as he says, “Sorry. Just getting reacquainted.” He fumbles with the button at Alex’s fly, but once he’s finally undone it he yanks the zipper down and tugs Alex’s jeans down to his mid-thigh along with his underwear.

“God, yeah, there it is,” Michael says to himself as he frees Alex’s weeping cock. “Been dreaming about this dick.”

“Yeah?” Alex snorts, not sure if he’s more amused or aroused by the filth coming out of Michael’s mouth.

“Uh huh,” Michael hums as he leans forward and catches the drop of pre-come beading at the tip with his tongue. “You better fuck me with it later or I’ll never forgive you.”

Okay. Definitely more aroused.

Michael takes him into his mouth and it’s so fucking good Alex barely stops himself from thrusting forward, the slow drag of Michael’s tongue nearly too much. Alex watches him with rapt attention, traces his thumb around the edge of Michael’s lips where he’s stretched obscenely wide over him.

“Fuck, Michael,” Alex gasps as Michael takes him all the way down to the root, gagging just a little. Michael moans, little shockwaves bursting over Alex’s skin and suddenly he’s dangerously close to coming. It’s a revelation in and of itself that Michael is able to do in barely five minutes what that blue-haired twink couldn’t in an hour, but Alex doesn’t want this to be over just yet. “Shit, Michael, you gotta stop,” Alex says, shoving gently at Michael’s shoulder.

Michael hums in disagreement, shaking his head as much as he can in his situation, unwilling to release him.

“Michael,” Alex warns, a little more force behind his voice. “I’m gonna come if you don’t stop.”

Michael pulls off with a pop, using his right hand to slowly jerk Alex off as he rasps, “Good.” He presses a kiss to the swollen head of Alex’s cock, his tongue peeking out to play with his frenulum. “I’ve missed the way you taste.”

That well and truly fries Alex’s brain, so when Michael grabs him by the hip and encourages him to feed his cock back into his waiting mouth, Alex can do nothing but give in to him, all thoughts of prolonging this out the window. Besides, Alex thinks as the head of his cock hits the back of Michael’s throat, we’ll have all night.

Alex’s knees almost give out as Michael immediately starts sucking harder, bobbing his head faster, on a mission this time. His hand comes up to play with Alex’s balls before sliding back to dig a knuckle into his perineum and Alex screams as he comes hot and hard down Michael’s throat, the pleasure so intense it’s almost as if he’s feeling every orgasm he’s been denied the last few months all at the same time.

Michael sucks him through it, pressing Alex’s hips back into the wall to keep him upright and moaning softly along with him. Alex hisses when the stimulation becomes too much and Michael finally releases him, standing up on shaky legs.

Alex pulls him into another kiss, groaning softly as he tastes himself on Michael’s tongue. Michael pulls Alex’s jeans back up as they kiss to make sure they won’t fall down and make him trip when they take things to the bedroom.

“Come on, Private,” Michael pants when they part, pupils blown. “My turn.”

Alex kisses him again, quick and dirty, before he grabs onto his hand and leads him back into the bedroom.

“Take your clothes off and get on the bed,” Alex says, pulling his own shirt over his head.

“Sir, yes, sir,” Michael says with a leer aimed at Alex’s newly bare chest.

Alex watches him unbutton his flannel and toss it on the ground, his jeans, boots, and socks quick to follow. Alex sits on the edge of the bed and removes his own jeans before getting to work on his prosthetic.

Michael climbs on the bed and settles behind him. “How do you want me?” he asks, dropping a kiss on Alex’s bare shoulder.

“On your back against the pillows is fine for now,” Alex says. Michael kisses him again, on the cheek this time, and does as he’s told.

Once he’s naked and his prosthetic is off, Alex reaches into his bedside table and pulls out lube, a box of condoms, and some wet wipes. He places them within arm’s reach on the bed as he settles beside Michael, facing him with his head on the pillow. Michael curls on his side and moves closer to him, meeting him in a kiss that starts slow, but builds and builds in intensity until Michael is groaning and rutting his erection into Alex’s hip.

“Alex,” Michael whines, throwing his leg over Alex’s hip and grinding harder into him. “Please, I-I need—“

“Shh,” Alex hushes, leaning in to kiss him again, just a barely-there press of his lips that makes Michael absolutely melt. “I know what you need,” he says, the hand that was cradling the back of his skull sliding out of Michael’s hair and down his back, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

Michael instinctively hikes his leg up higher on Alex’s hip as his hand moves further south, cupping one cheek and giving it a gentle squeeze. His fingers slip between them and seek out Michael’s hole. Alex intends to reach for the lube in a minute, unable to resist teasing Michael a few seconds longer with the dry press of his fingertips, but he finds his hole already stretched and wet with what feels like lube. The angle isn’t ideal, but Alex sinks two fingers into him with ease.

“Oh fuck, Alex,” Michael moans happily, clenching down on his fingers, and it would be one of the hottest things he’s ever experienced if he wasn’t suddenly thinking about what Michael had said earlier about empirical data and wondering if maybe he isn’t Michael’s first booty call of the night. As soon as the thought enters his head, he has to know.

“Michael,” Alex starts, his fingers stilling inside him. “Did you—did you fuck someone else tonight?”

It’s stupid. He loves Michael, would move heaven and earth for him, and it’s not like he doesn’t already know Michael’s been hooking up with other people. They weren’t even together an hour ago, so, really, Michael could’ve fucked a whole football team tonight and it wouldn’t be any of Alex’s business. It’s stupid, he knows it is, but… but Michael is his now and the thought that someone else opened him up and fucked him tonight has the possessive part of him absolutely foaming at the mouth.

“No,” Michael pants, shaking his head. He pressing his hips back against Alex’s hand, encouraging him to put his fingers to good use. “I did fuck myself though.”

That ugly, jealous feeling curling in his belly dissipates as quickly as it had come with the image of Michael fucking himself on a thick dildo, desperately seeking release that never came. Alex moans and captures Michael’s lips in a bruising kiss.

“Couldn’t get yourself off, huh?” he asks, moving his fingers slowly out before pushing them back in again. He’ll need more lube in a minute, but there’s enough for now if he goes slow.  

Michael shakes his head again. “Told you. Need you.”

“When was the last time you had an orgasm?” he wonders aloud.

“You should know, you were there,” Michael gasps as Alex nudges his prostate.

Alex has a sudden vision of himself sucking greedily at Michael’s cock with three fingers curling inside him while Michael screams loud enough to wake the dead.

“You really haven’t come since then?” Alex asks, head tilting to the side.

“You callin’ me a liar, Private?”

“No, it’s just—that was almost six months ago.”

“Fucking tell me about it,” Michael sighs in frustration, bucking his hips pointedly against him. “So you wanna quit teasing me already? After how good I sucked you in the living room I don’t think I deserve this.”

“I’m sorry, you’re right,” Alex laughs, and gently removes his fingers from Michael’s ass.

“No, what are you doing? Come back,” Michael whines, grabbing Alex’s arm as he tries to pull it away.

“Relax, I’m just getting the lube. You’ll need more unless you want me to hurt you,” he explains. Michael pouts, but lets him go.

He’s reaching blindly for the lube behind him when it floats down into his field of vision as if dangled on an invisible string. He looks to Michael who’s pout has transformed into a self-satisfied smile.

“Neat trick,” Alex comments, plucking it from the air. He flicks the cap off and coats his fingers.

“Baby, you got no idea,” Michael smirks, and then an invisible force is tugging him closer to Michael as he rolls over onto his back, settling him between Michael’s spread thighs. It’s an indescribable feeling, being held by Michael’s power. Alex doesn’t usually like giving up control, especially when it’s related to his mobility, but Alex can’t find it in himself to be put out about it when Michael wraps his legs around him and purrs, “Now get to work, Private. That’s an order.”

Alex captures his lips in a kiss that’s mostly tongue and does just that.

He reaches down between Michael’s thighs, sliding two lube-slick fingers inside him with little preamble. He watches Michael’s face, slack with pleasure, as he scissors his fingers to test how open he still is.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” Michael gasps, pushing back greedily onto Alex’s fingers. “More, baby, I won’t break.”

“You’re a real bossy bottom, you know that, Guerin?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t lo—oh fuck,” Michael keens as Alex works another finger inside, per Michael’s request, not giving him a second to adjust before he starts fucking his fingers in and out of him.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Alex smirks as he curls his fingers upward, watching the way Michael’s breath is hitching in his chest and his mouth has dropped open on a silent moan. “Feels good, huh?”

Michael nods his head and answers, breathless, “Yeah, fuck, so good.”

Alex leans over Michael to press open-mouth kisses onto the soft skin of his neck, his chest, anywhere he can reach. He swirls his tongue around Michael’s right nipple and bites just hard enough to sting a little, making him squirm.

“You’re so sensitive,” Alex says, feeling Michael clench down on the three fingers he’s fucking into him when he blows cold air over the nipple he’s been playing with.

Michael buries his fingers in Alex’s hair and tugs him, gently, further up his body until he can kiss him again. The movement makes him more aware of his own cock, hard once more now that he’s had some time to recover from the mind-blowing orgasm Michael gave him earlier.

“Alex,” Michael pants into Alex’s mouth when he works his fingers over his prostate once more. “M’so close, fuck, right there.”

“You want to come on my fingers or should I get a condom?” Alex asks, and without a word from Michael, the box of condoms flies from its spot on the bed to hit Alex in the chest. He bursts out laughing, but judging from the exasperated look on Michael’s face he’s the only one amused. “Guess that answers that question.”

“Like you had to ask,” Michael shoots back.

Michael whines as Alex removes his fingers from him to grab a condom from the box. He fumbles with it a little, his right hand too slippery to get a proper grip, but once he gets it open and rolls it on, he slicks himself with more lube and covers Michael’s body with his.

Michael wraps his legs around him, urging him on, but Alex takes things slow as he slips the head of his cock inside him. Michael’s hole offers more resistance than Alex is expecting and he groans at how hot and tight it is.

“Oh god,” Michael whimpers, bearing down and breathing through the stretch.

“That’s it, baby, let me in,” Alex encourages, smoothing a hand down Michael’s flank as he presses deeper inside, one inch at a time. His eyes never leave Michael’s face and all Alex can think is how beautiful Michael is like this—his eyes intense, lips red and shining, breathing ragged, skin flushed and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Alex never want anyone else under him like this for as long as he lives.  

Alex starts moving once Michael is used to the stretch, a slow in and out rhythm that quickly builds until Michael is clawing at his back as Alex fucks him hard, just the way he likes, the way he knows he needs it.

“Fuck, oh fuck, Alex, I’m not gonna last,” Michael pants, brow creased as he looks up at Alex.

“Come when you need to, baby, don’t hold back for me,” Alex says, grabbing hold of Michael’s cock and jerking him in time with his thrusts.

Alex aims more directly at his prostate and Michael howls, his spine arched and his head tossed back against the pillow.

“Oh, oh, oh my god, right there, fuuuck, Alex,” Michael sobs as he comes in thick, hot pulses between them, all over his own stomach and Alex’s hand.

He’s vice-tight as Alex fucks him through it for what feels like an age, Michael’s euphoric cries spurring him on.  He’s so focused on Michael’s pleasure that his own orgasm takes him by surprise and suddenly he’s coming right along with him, grunting as he spills into the condom and sinks his teeth into the join of Michael’s neck and shoulder.

Alex slows his hips to a stop a moment later, the post-orgasmic hum of his body and his own ragged breathing drowning out all other sound. It takes a few seconds for him to realize that Michael is crying.

As soon as Michael’s hitched sobs register in his ears, it’s like a bucket of ice cold water has been dumped over him.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Alex asks, lead sinking in the pit of his stomach as he pulls back to look at Michael’s face. He wipes away his tears with his clean hand, but Michael won’t meet his eyes. “Oh, baby, talk to me,” he pleads. “Did I hurt you?”

Michael shakes his head and pulls Alex back down on top of him, burying his face in Alex’s neck, unwilling or unable to speak. Jesus, he’s trembling.

Alex tries to move to pull out, but Michael stops him, not permitting a single inch of space between them. Alex relents and settles against him, stroking his hair and whispering sweet nothings against his temple until he calms down. It takes a minute, but eventually his breathing evens and he lets his head fall further back against the pillow.

“Hey there,” Alex says when he does, offering a smile he hopes comes across as encouraging and not scared and confused like he really feels. He’s known Michael a long time and he’s only seen him cry like that once or twice.

“Sorry,” Michael mumbles, eyes still glossy with tears.

“Don’t be sorry,” Alex says, kissing his forehead. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, voice rough. “Yeah, I’m okay. That was just…”

“A little too intense?” Alex guesses. It’s been so long since Michael’s had any sexual release, Alex could easily understand Michael being overwhelmed by his orgasm.

“Yeah,” Michael laughs softly. “Amazing though, Alex, Jesus. I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard in my life, I don’t know if I’m gonna be able to walk tomorrow.”

Alex warms with praise. “You were amazing too,” he says, leaning down to press a soft kiss to Michael’s lips. “You always are.”

Michael gives Alex a fond look. “I love you,” he whispers, reaching up to caress the side of Alex’s face. “So much,” he adds, his eyes shining once more with the beginnings of fresh tears.

Alex leans into his touch. “I love you too, Michael,” he whispers back. “I’ve always loved you, even when I was terrible at showing it.”

Michael’s smile is blinding as he surges up to meet him in another kiss. It only lasts a few seconds because they’re both smiling too much to kiss each other properly, but it’s maybe the best one Alex has ever had.

The moment is ruined a little when Alex shifts and is reminded that Michael’s come is drying between their stomachs.

“So you think you can use your alien superpowers to get the wipes over there?” Alex nods to the package on the far side of the bed. “We should clean this mess up before it dries.”

Michael’s nose wrinkles in disgust like he’s just noticing it too and the package comes floating over. Alex gets to work and once the wipes and used condom are in the trash beside the bed, Michael hits the lights and Alex rolls onto his back taking Michael with him and pulling a blanket over them both as he gets comfortable against Alex’s chest. Alex trails his fingers up and down Michael’s back until he hits that ticklish spot right near his armpit and Michael whines as he jolts against him.

“Sorry,” Alex apologizes, not sorry at all.

“Mm,” Michael acknowledges him, burrowing deeper into Alex’s chest.

If someone had told him at the start of the day that by midnight he would have Michael Guerin—now his boyfriend—in his arms, he would have never believed them. They didn’t get here quite the way he thought they would, but Alex wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Well… he thinks, considering.

“Pancakes or eggs?” Alex asks, nudging Michael back from the edge of sleep.

“Hmm?” Michael asks.

“Thought we could do some brainstorming over breakfast.”

“Brainstorming?”

“We are not telling people that we got back together because you booty called me.“

Michael giggles against his chest. “Why not? I think it speaks volumes about our sexual compatibility. Don’t you want all our friends to know how completely you’ve ruined me for anyone else?”

“Guerin.”

Michael laughs again and snuggles closer. “Yeah, okay. Pancakes sound great, baby.”

[kuriquinn]

Dear Mr. Kuri, thank you so much for your recent post concerning the young artist who was effectively censored from sharing his/her/their art on a particular subject (just... so sad). I was hoping to get your thoughts on how adults might navigate interactions with minors in this space. Specifically, extending our support for their work w/out necessarily... engaging with them. I know this sounds crazy stupid but before tumblr I wasn't really active on any social media and I had no idea (cont'd)

there were so many users under the age of 16 on this site. I've even come to learn that some identified users I had interacted with early on were as young as 13, and as someone in my 30's - tbh that scared the shit out of me. I totally agree that someone that young and impressionable would be crushed by the kind of criticism that poor artist faced, and would likely never create or share again... to their detriment. The thing is though, I feel really hesitant following any creator (cont'd)

that isn't 18 or older... What are your thoughts on following/reblogging/interacting with minors in fandom? I fully agree that they need support, especially from older users who don't care what some stranger on the internet has to say... but I just feel... like I don't know how to go about that the right way. I really REALLY don't want minors on my blog at all... sorry to bother you with this, just wondering how you'd suggest handling this. I didn't comment on the post bc I didn't (cont'd)

want to risk that young artist reading my inquiry and feeling even more alienated. As always, thank you for your time and insight. - Birk

I may go a bit off-topic here, but let me give this a try:

I think in, In the end, it all comes down to communication and mutual respect.

Adults have this pervading mentality that until a child hits 18, they need to be infantilized and sheltered, but once they pass that magical number, then it’s a free for all. So, for eighteen years, it’s all about sticking a Potemkin village in front of any idea, person or situation that a child might find uncomfortable (read: they don’t like the feelings it gives them; very different from actual harmful ideas/persons/situations). Then, these sheltered almost-adults enter public spaces and expect society to keep doing that…when it turns out that’s not how it works, they become toxic.

This is how poisonous movements like purity-culture develop online, or new fans who demonize older fans and adults as being perverts for enjoying the very same pastimes they have.

For those of us interacting with these people, the automatic reaction is to “cancel” that person, thereby alienating and isolating them even more in their bad behavior. Instead of taking the time to talk with and try to show them through actions that the world isn’t limited to what they know.

As adults in fandom, we know that a large majority of the fandom is younger, because we were them once. We were that 12-year-old discovering fanfiction existed or sharing drawings we made of our original Harry Potter characters or quoting our favorite movies and televisions ad infinite. We got shit for it in real life, so we had to create spaces of our own online.

We, in effect, built fandom so that it would be more welcoming for the generations that came after us. And while a lot of us stick to that unwritten knowledge, as the years pass, a lot more become gatekeepers. They set a standard of what a fan must know or do to be considered a “real” fan, and they’re mean about how they do that.

Is it any wonder that new fans coming in experience this behavior and then jump on the “adults in fandom is creepy” bandwagon?

These new fans coming in, especially tweens and teens, they still live in this false reality where they only get to enjoy themselves and be kids for a limited amount of time, and once they Become Adult they have to give it all up—and can’t figure out why all those old creeps online are still a part of such “childish” things.

That fault lies squarely on our society, which pushes kids from a young age to be thinking of what they want to do when they grow up so they can get out there and start producing, producing, producing for the state and becoming a “useful” member of society.

We as fandom veterans, need to do our best to teach them differently, and that comes right back to my point: communication and mutual respect.

Older fans need to respect newcomers, as much as the new baby fans need to learn to respect their fandom elders. There is no maximum age for fandom; there’s no minimum age, either, although the younger the fan, the more their parents should be keeping an eye out for the truly damaging stuff and teaching their kids how to avoid that stuff on their own.

Now, obviously, people don’t always announce online how old they are (though it does happen more frequently now than when I started writing), but regardless, there should be a certain etiquette to it.

When you interact with someone online, you don’t know if they are 15 or 50. And the way you interact with them shouldn’t change based on knowing their age. We should maintain the same level of respect for the new fans as the older fans.

So, as to how adults might navigate interactions with minors (especially when you know they’re minors)?

Treat them as any other intelligent human being: with respect.

Because how else are they going to learn?

My mom always used to say to us, “I’m not raising children, I’m raising adults,” which basically meant she was teaching us how to be adults. Kids don’t pop out of the womb magically knowing how to interact with the world, they take their cues from the adults that are already there.

Fandom babies learn how to be active participants in fandom from the people who are already there. And they’re more likely to listen to and look up to someone that treats them as a mature and capable being, than someone who dismisses them as too young or too green, or dismisses their knowledge and experience because they haven’t earned their metaphorical stripes.

Remember, a lot of these kids are coming to fandom because they need an outlet. In this age of helicopter parents, this is the only place where they get to be treated as an individual adult-in-the-making instead of the overly protected child or student that must be shielded from the world. A lot of them are trying to figure out how to deal with the horrors that happen to them or around them every day. That 16-year-old girl writing a rape/non-con fic under a pseudonym? She could be exorcising her own demons through the only way she has because no one in her life is listening to her. That 14-year-old writing about homelessness might know more about it than someone twice his age.

Expertise and experience knows no age, and as adults, we need to not fall into the trap of thinking it does. There are some kids out there that have seen and endured more than I can even imagine.

In recent years, there’s been this trend of treating kids like sexless beings until we, the adults, deem them capable of having a sense of sexuality. When the reality is, once kids start puberty, they’re developing that sexuality, and are trying to figure out what it means to them and how to navigate it, and the world. It doesn’t matter if adults are uncomfortable with it, this is what our human biology has decided for us.

And chances are, as much as adults try to curate the world and keep kids from seeing the darker, less safe stuff? They’re already doing it. I saw this when I was teaching, the kids are already accessing and interacting with stuff like sex, drugs, relationships… Whenever a faceless censor tries to block that sort of thing, they find a way around it. Humans are funny like that—we want the things that are kept away from us, whether harmful or not.

It’s our responsibility to help them think critically about what they’re seeing, and teach them to express themselves about it in a respectful manner.

So by all means: follow that amazing artist even if they are only 15. Their age doesn’t negate the fact that they have talent that needs to be nurtured and encouraged. Reblog the images and the fics that strike you, even if you find out the person writing it isn’t 18 yet. Send a shoutout via DM or review or comment to someone that you admire whether you know they’re age or not.

Unless you’re being actively creepy and offensive (and seriously, don’t do that, it’s gross whether the recipient is a minor or not), chances are these creators are desperate for some assurance that the medium they choose to express themselves in is having an effect on people—and that they have the power to make even adults sit up and listen.

So…TL;DR:

When interacting with younger fans, do so with respect. And if they say something problematic, don’t automatically cancel them and write them off as “obviously too young and immature to understand”. They understand more than you think and will seek out their interests whether adults think it’s appropriate or not. That’s how freedom works. But if we’re going to nip bad behavior like purity culture and agism in the bud, we need to start by treating minors in fandom as adults developing their worldview, not as infants to be sheltered.  

[crzytwn]

AJ

Disagreements:

Who is more likely to raise their voice? Aimee, DJ’s so tall she has to make up for it somewhere

Who threatens to leave but never actually does? Neither, after the whole exile thing being a real topic that’s not really something either of them considers even while like BIG mad

Who actually keeps their word and leaves? no one!

Who trashes the house? I just feel like they both would on accident?? They need helmets.

Do either of them get physical? Not in a fight.

How often do they argue/disagree? Not That often.

Who is the first to apologise? Neither? I searched sorry on Aimee’s blog and so many convos came up but none were with DJ, I think they’re just those people that like argue, cool off and then whoever wants to make up first goes over to the other one just says some shit like “Do you ever get sad that jellyfish don’t actually make jelly?” and then the fight is forgotten.

Sex:

Who is on top? AIMEE’S A TOP I DIDN’T KNOW

Who is on the bottom? DJ which honestly he’s so big, it’s probably just convenient

Who has the strangest desires? Feels up DJ’s Alley

Any kinks? for sure

Who’s dominant in bed? DJ, Aimee CAN be but she’s definitely specifically into letting DJ tell her what to do.

Is head ever in the equation? Ya sure.

If so, who is better at performing it? I don’t know! I feel like it’s a tie, they’re so obsessed with each other.

Ever had sex in public? No, Aimee would literally faint with how anxious that idea makes her.

Who moans the most? Aimee.

Who leaves the most marks? I don’t KNOW! But I feel like Aimee is an accidental nail digger

Who screams the loudest? So idk maybe DJ since he’s a pincushion apparently

Who is the more experienced of the two? UH! I just do not know! DJ’s fucked Elle and idk if anything will Happen with Karmen but Aimee is humping around with her own fuck buddy so?

Do they ‘fuck’ or ‘make love’? Aimee would only call it making love, she’s flowery like that.

Rough or soft? I simply cannot imagine them having rough sex without injuries but also they’re not gentle people so that’s fun?

How long do they usually last? 🤔 They are athletic and would presumably have decent stamina...

Is protection used? Tf if I know, Aimee wants kids and DJ needs an heir.

Does it ever get boring? No, they’ve been waiting their entire lives for it. It could never.

Where is the strangest place they’d have sex? Swan Lake? That castle is abandoned so it’s safe from Aimee’s public fears.

Family:

Do your muses plan on having children/or have children? YA ya ya.

If so, how many children do your muses want/have? I think they would have a lot, half out of being stupid but like Aimee would love to spite Uberta and have so many perfect HALF blue blooded heirs and spares for the kingdom.

Who is the favorite parent? DJ, obviously.

Who is the authoritative parent? Aimee.

Who is more likely to allow the children to have a day off school? DJ, but like Aimee would end up tagging along anyway.

Who lets the children indulge in sweets and junk food when the other isn’t around? DJ but honestly it’s probably Aimee’s candy.

Who turns up to extra curricular activities to support their children? Both of them and they are EMBARRASSING.

Who goes to parent teacher interviews? Aimee. This is her area of expertise for sure.

Who changes the diapers? Maids or Aimee.

Who gets up in the middle of the night to feed the baby? Maids, Aimee would WANT to but then never wake up

Who spends the most time with the children? They’d both be so obsessed with their kids are you kidding.

Who packs their lunch boxes? The castle cook.

Who gives their children ‘the talk’? Rogers!

Who cleans up after the kids? Maids, but Aimee would try to do it first.

Who worries the most? AIMEE!!!

Who are the children more likely to learn their first swear word from? Also Aimee.

Affection:

Who likes to cuddle? Both of them!

Who is the little spoon? The visual of Aimee jetpacking all six foot one million inches of DJ is too funny and cute for words.

Who gets naughty in the most inappropriate of places? DJ, Aimee’s too paranoid

Who struggles to keep their hands to themself?   Both of them honestly, but I think Aimee would be very into hand holding so they can at least have unlimited physical contact.

How long can they cuddle until one becomes uncomfortable? I don’t know if either of them like to sit still for that long so probably not for an extended period of time.

Who gives the most kisses? DJ, but Only because it’s harder for Aimee to get to his face but she definitely kisses his hand.

What is their favourite non-sexual activity? Target practice!!

Where is their favourite place to cuddle? Probably in bed?

Who is more likely to playfully grope the other? Could not tell u, def on brand for them both.

How often do they get time to themselves? Enough? They definitely MAKE time!

Sleeping:

Who snores? If both do, who snores the loudest? Dunno.

Do they share a bed or sleep separately? Share!

If they sleep together, do they cozy up together or lay far apart? Aimee likes her space but also she probably HAS to touch him while they’re sleeping.

Who talks in their sleep? Dunno

What do they wear to bed? Probably underwear? If anything?

Are either of your muses insomniacs? Mine isn’t, is DJ?

Can sleeping pills be found by the bedside? Melatonin gummies probs

Do they wrap their limbs around each other or just lay side by side? More like draped over each other. Top or bottom is who goes down first.

Who wakes up with bed hair? Aimee has the most hair.

Who wakes up first? Aimee is the more On Top of things one so she probably wakes DJ up even now.

Who prepares breakfast in bed for the other? Aimee but it’s cereal. DJ probably would too but he def would’ve spilled too many times to be allowed ever again.

What is their favourite sleeping position? this

Who hogs the sheets? DJ, Aimee probably kicks sheets off.

Do they set an alarm each night? Aimee naturally wakes up early so probably not unless they have to do something DUMB early.

Can a television be found in their bedroom? Yep

Who has nightmares? Aimee thee Coward

Who has ridiculous dreams? I don’t knooow

Who sprawls out and takes up most of the bed? DJ, he’s big.

Who makes the bed? Aimee, but then the maids probably remake it because she didn’t do That good a job.

What time is bed time? Whenever they feeel like it.

Any routines/rituals before bed? I don’t know!!!

Who’s the grumpiest when they wake up? They give off morning people vibes but if i’m wrong correct me?

Work:

Who is the busiest? King Derek Jr!

Who rakes in the highest income? The king!

Are any of your muses unemployed? Uh I literally almost said Aimee but I guess being his queen like counts as a job.

Who takes the most sick days? Aimee is both a lil bit of a hypochondriac and also is probably sick a lot.

Who is more likely to turn up late to work? Could not tell you, but I would guess DJ because he like fell or something.

Who sucks up to their boss? Is Aimee’s boss DJ BECAUSE she sure does suck up to him.

What are their jobs? King and Queen of wherever tf, probably.

Who stresses the most? Aimee!

Do your muses enjoy or despise their careers/occupations? Aimee is probably Uncomfortable with it for a whiiile but I think that’s it?

Are your muses financially stable? Duh.

Home:

Who does the washing? The maids, Aimee doesn’t do her own laundry NOW so she would get over that hang up the fastest.

Who takes out the trash? Idk whoever’s job that is.

Who does the ironing? Aimee and also the maids.

Who does the cooking? The castle cooks.

Who is more likely to burn the house down just trying? Both of them.

Who is messier? DJ

Who leaves the toilet roll empty? DJ

Who leaves their dirty clothes on the floor? Does DJ? He pays people to do a lot so idk.

Who forgets to flush the toilet? Ew

Who is the prankster around the house? DJ

Who loses the car keys when it comes time to go somewhere? Aimee! But also probably DJ!

Who mows the lawn? The gardener!

Who answers the telephone? Who calls people!?

Who does the vacuuming? The maids and Aimee.

Who does the groceries? Aimee but only for like her own personal things, she hates asking.

Who takes the longest to shower? DJ has a lot of body to shower also Aimee doesn’t like SHOWERS that much.

Who spends the most time in the bathroom? Aimee, I just KNOW she takes hot baths and then passes out from the temperature shift getting out of the tub.

Miscellaneous:

Is money a problem? Technically no, but that much money Is a problem to Aimee.

How many cars do they own? I don’t know!

Do they own their home or do they rent? It’s a castle soo

Do they live near the coast or deep in the countryside? Idk man that kingdom seems a lil coastal?

Do they live in the city or in the country? In a castle!

Do they enjoy their surroundings? Sure!

What’s their song? Today I say Grow As We Go by Ben Platt

What do they do when they’re away from each other? Facetime probably.

Where did they first meet? Idk man wherever people put babies in the castle

How did they first meet? Their dads like waved their lil baby hands at each other.

Who spends the most money when out shopping? DJ

Who’s more likely to flash their assets? DJ with his lil princey frat ass.

Who finds it amusing when the other trips over? They both do because THEY BOTH TRIP OVER SO MUCH.

Any mental issues? No? But like who doesn’t? Idk?

Who’s terrified of bugs? Who kills the spiders around the house? Aimee is TERRIFIED and would stand in a chair screaming for DJ to kill it for absolutely ever.

Their favourite place? I sure don’t know.

Who pays the bills? DJ but I’m sure Aimee would offer anyway like they wouldn’t have the same money in the future.

Do they have any fears for their future? No? Aimee’s parents got divorced when she was pretty young but like the biggest obstacle was GETTING DJ, she’s not that worried about losing him. Except to death, but she’s always afraid of him dying.

Who’s more likely to surprise the other with a fancy dinner? DJ? But I hope not because Aimee would hate it for like half the time it would take to eat it.

Who uses up all of the hot water?   Does the hot water run out?

Who’s the tallest? TAKE A WILD GUESS

Who’s more likely to just randomly hop into the shower with the other? Both of them, but Aimee for sure. DJ’s shower times are not his alone time according to her.

Who wanders around in their underwear? Aimeeeeee

Who sings the loudest when singing along to the radio? Aimeeee, it’s very bad but DJ knew what he was getting into

What do they tease each other about? What don’t they tease each other about.

Who is more likely to cringe at the other’s fashion sense at times? I don’t know? Neither of them?

Do they have mutual friends? Who crushed first? Any alcohol or substance related problems?   Yeah Jojo and Karmen and whoever else i’m forgetting rn but i’m sure Aimee will get over her inexplicable Artie disdain, I don’t know who crushed first and i’m sire they don’t either. Nope!

Who is more likely to stumble home, drunk, at 3am? DJ!

Who swears the most? I don’t know! I said Aimee is the most likely to teach their kids swears but idk if that necessarily means she’s saying more.

[notfckincool]

DIRTY GIRL

CHAPTER 7 - LUCKY FUCKING DAY

NEGAN X ANA (OC)

Originally a collection of short smutty stories, this has now morphed into a long running storyline. Strong sexual content.

Ana embarks on a casual, and obviously filthy affair with Negan, accidentally falling for the man, knowing he will never love her. Angst and kinkyfuckery.

WARNINGS: It's Negan so expect swearing, violence, sexual content throughout. I'll add specific chapter warnings as it progresses. 

CHAPTER 7 - LUCKY FUCKING DAY

Negan x Ana (OC)

It's been a while since they shagged, they both horny as fuck.

WARNINGS

f/f/m dirty talk, rough sex

Negan is a sweary muthafucka, that's a given

It''s a long one,hahaha. I enjoyed writing from his point of view and I got a bit carried away.

Negan stands, Lucille nestled on his shoulder, proudly surveying his jubilant saviors on their return home. 

The Sanctuary....His castle....The community HE built, from the shit storm of epic proportions, that left the remainder of the human race fighting for survival. Everyone here a cog in the well oiled machine, with a mission to save as many unfortunate souls as possible....And...bring some kind of fucking civilisation back to humanity.

The Saviors...These men and women, these fucking magnificent soldiers, were the key to its success, the last line of defence for HIS citizens. His own personal army, a force to be reckoned with. They were a bunch of quarrelling fuckwits and murdery fucking hoodlums before he took this place. He made them what they are today. He gave them structure, rules, purpose. He made them strong. Look at them now.

As trucks are unloaded the mood is jovial. Today had been another productive damn day. There would be celebrations this evening. Rightly so. Fuck it, he's in a great mood, everyone gets extra vegetables at dinner, they deserved it.

Heading inside the large canteen, they are rewarded with good food and bottles of liquor. He watches over his people, observes their hearty laughter, loud banter, and congratulatory patting of backs. His eyes scan the room.

He leans back against the wall as his eyes rest on Ana. She's sat at a long table with Simon, a few of the other higher ranking warriors, and....that girl she always seems to be hanging with these days. He lowers Lucille to rest casually by his side. She'd done well, he'd known she would, and, she'd finally even got Simon's approval. Simon was right. Fucking her, while on Savior business had been a mistake. While they were working EVERYONE needed to be focused. He didn't want to lose any one over some emotional shit, or by getting eaten on the job, so to speak. They'd had to cool it. Maybe they could get together when they both had free time, but with missions, meetings, and wives, it hadn't happened. A shame. It had been fun. 

Sighing heavily he watches her as she laughs a full belly laugh, her head thrown back. She looks really fucking happy. As rare as rocking horse shit these days. It makes him smile.....briefly. His eyes fixate on Simon's hand patting her thigh, resting a little too long for his liking. He shifts uneasily from the wall, his jaw clenching, hand tightening momentarily around Lucille. The fucking fuck? His brow sets in a deep frown. 

Ok..ok..calm your tits.....

It's probably just his imagination, but he might need to keep a fucking eye on that. Tearing his eyes away he looks down at the floor, inhaling deeply, rubbing his forehead, and trying to relax his jaw as he looks back over in Ana's direction. 

The girls are now sharing a conversation that he can't hear. They move in closer to each other, real fucking close. Huh? 

Cheering erupts. A drinking game has begun and a bottle of tequila is being passed around the table. The merriment continues, tables are banged enthusiastically, and numerous shots are knocked back. He shakes his head at his bunch of roguish fucking idiots. 

There it was again. A touch of the girl's thigh. A firm squeeze. No mistaking. This time stroking higher, leaning right in. His brow arches as Ana kisses her, playfully nibbling at the girls lips. Tangling her fingers in the long tresses she pulls her in for a firmer kiss. Jeering breaks out. 

"Get a fucking room you two"

Something is tossed across the table hitting Ana on the head. Breaking the kiss she tosses it back, laughing and giving them the middle finger. Jesus fucking Christ, sometimes It's like being at fucking high school with these morons. His attention is drawn back to the two women as they stand from the table. 

So how long has this been going on? 

She looks up. Her eyes meeting his. Hmmm.... Did she know he was there? Did she know he'd been watching? Neither looks away, locked in an unwavering stare as he tries to read her. A small smile plays at her lips as she whispers something in the girls ear before grabbing her hand and leading her hastily from the canteen.

Swinging lucille by his side, he takes a moment to process, pulls himself from the wall, bat on shoulder, and heads out into the corridor.

***

Turning the corner, towards Ana's room, the girl is pinned to the wall in a passionate kiss, a sense of urgency as she fumbles with the key in the lock. The door swings open. They tumble in. He saunters towards them, observing a  moment before tapping loudly on the door with Lucille. When Ana spins around he studies her, his eyes narrowing, Lucille swinging gently by his side. 

"Hi"  he grins, taking a step forward into Ana's room. 

"Hi" She moves protectively in front of her 'friend'

"Sorry to interrupt....."  The grin fades as he peers around Ana for a better view of the girl. He's seen her around. Someone new Simon had recruited and trained, name escapes him though. Never really took much notice of her before. He looks her over. Similar to Ana in age, probably. Looks pretty badass, sweet though. Not bad. He definitely would. Flashes her one of his irresistible smiles. She seems to be struggling to maintain eye contact with him. He revels in the long awkward pause.

"...and you are?" 

The girl swallows audibly and opens her mouth, but no words come out. He chuckles maintaining his stare. Ana glances over her shoulder looking quizzically at the suddenly dumb struck girl, shaking her head at her.

"This is Lily."

"Hey there Lily. Nice to finally meet you." He doesn't offer his hand, instead he twirls Lucille in his fingers, his tongue creeping out between his teeth. He can't resist looking her up and down again with a smirk. Immediately she blushes and looks down at the floor to hide her burning cheeks. That's cute. He chuckles.

"Not much of a talker huh?" Her eyes still glued to the floor he turns his attention back to Ana.

"Is she ok?" he mouths silently

"What do you want Negan?"

"You really have to ask? Ana, you know what I want." Placing lucille against the wall he takes another step closer, leaning into her space. Lily shrinks away behind Ana. 

"No Negan, I dont." Her eyes search his "I dont know what you want from me"

"Yes...you fucking do" Lowering his face towards hers, he takes her by the hips. Lily shuffles uncomfortably while Ana holds his gaze.

"Oh, so you think you can just drop in whenever you feel like it, without an invitation" 

"Oh girl, dont give me that shit. You know goddamn well I dont need an invitation. This is my place, I can do whatever the fuck I want" his thumb traces along her jaw

"What about what I want? ....What exactly are we doing here?"

"What do you wanna be doing?" He chuckles "This was your fucking idea. 'Why dont we come up with another arrangement', you said. I fucking remember it. Very fucking clearly...." His thumb brushes over her lips  "...right before before you put my dick in that pretty little mouth of yours" 

"That doesn't mean you can just call by whenever it suits you"

"That is EXACTLY what it means." He withdraws his hand " I gave you a choice. This is what you chose"

"Well, Im not just gonna sit here waiting for you" she smiles pulling Lily to her side.

"Yeah, I can see that" he glances over at Lily

"Look, I'm a big girl, I can make my own decisions, and I made my choice. I'm NOT one of your wives remember" leaning into Lily she kisses her softly.

"Thank fuck for that, you'd drive me nuts" His eyes linger over the kiss "So this is what you get up to when I'm not around"

"Mhm. What did you expect? I got needs you know." The woman's lips part for Ana     "...So if you dont mind...." she mumbles through the kiss

"I don't mind at all". He interrupts " I'm enjoying the fucking show, dont stop on my account"

"If you don't mind" she continues "I'm quite busy, so you can shut the door on your way out"

Arching a brow he watches the girls, their tongues exploring each others mouths. His grip on her hips tightens, pushing himself against her so she can feel him hardening.

"Hahaha! Ya missed me right? I can read you like a goddamn book......Ok you got my attention, got me over here......with the TWO of you. I see what you're doing here." taking her by the chin he pulls her face to look in his eyes. "Yeah...." he smirks "....you missed me"

"Maybe....Maybe not" she swipes his hand away

"Maybe...maybe not" he mocks "Why you always got to be so damned difficult all the time? Fuck, you're infuriating. See..... I'm hearing the words coming out of your mouth, but your eyes are saying 'fuck me Negan' " he shrugs off his jacket

"Wow! You really are an arrogant fucker"

"....Fuck me, AND my horny friend" he continues "Am I right? Hahaha. I know what you want, and how you want it. I know what kinkyfuckery runs through your dirty mind"

"You absolutely sure about that" she retorts "Maybe...I actually didn't miss you or your dick. Maybe...you're wrong." She smirks at him as she peels off her shirt

"Now I KNOW you're fucking lying" his tone no longer as playful. "Enough fucking teasing now. I told you before, don't play fucking games with me princess"

"And I told you before, don't call me princess" roughly she pulls lily towards her, pulling her shirt up over her head and tossing it to the floor "I dont need your permission to fuck someone else. You don't own me"  

Taking Lily's face in her hands she kisses her passionately. Releasing her hips he grabs a handful of Ana's hair, tugging her head back, prising the girls apart.

"I said that's enough. Have you forgotten who's in charge around here?" He says into her ear, his voice stern, delivering a hard sharp slap to her ass "Have you forgotten who your dealing with?" Another rough tug makes her wince. "The Sanctuary is mine. The Saviors, ..are mine. You....Are mine."

Lily cautiously takes a couple of steps back, Ana chuckles triumphantly.

"There's my Negan. You know I like that. she bites her lip " I love it when he gets mad, Lily. We like to play rough. This is just our foreplay" she chuckles again. "Still wanna fuck him?"

"Well?" His eyes burn into Lily's "Do ya? You wanna be my dirty girl too? " He smirks darkly  "then it looks like it's your lucky fucking day.....if you think you're up to it" Forcefully he unfastens Ana's jeans  "...Choice is yours sweetheart, nobody's forcing you to do anything you dont want to do." Still holding Ana's hair in a vice like grip he tugs her jeans down to her hips. "Stay,.. or leave, it's up to you...but it's now or fucking never Lily" he palms Ana's ass   "...Gonna need an answer. Are you staying?" 

Lily chews on her bottom lip and nods

"Then be a fuckin doll and shut the door"

Negan's eyes follow her as she closes the door and leans her back against it. 

"Well, Ana, would you look at that. Lily does as shes told, unlike some people I know"  his hand rubs across her stomach down towards her panties as he presses his swelling dick against her, eyes still on Lily. 

"That's because shes a good girl Negan, she'll do whatever you ask"

"Is that fucking so?" His stare unmoving, deliberately disarming her  "wanna play a game of good girl /bad girl?"  he smirks as he teases Ana, thumbing over her panties. "Ana is the bad girl obviously, but you've clearly spent some time together so I guess you know that already" Ana squirms as his thumb toys with her clit. "Speak up. Don't be shy. Can't be shy around my Ana"

"I'm not your Ana"           

"You fucking sure about that?"

He pulls her hair hard, tipping back her head, exposing her neck to him. Grazing her with his teeth, nipping at her skin, he raises his eyes to look at Lily from under heavy lids,. Ana moans softly and reaches behind her rubbing his hardening length through his jeans

"So.....You just gonna stand there?" Lily's eyes follow his hand as it slides into Ana's panties. Ana gasps and unfastens his belt

"Oh. You like to watch huh? We can put on a show for you if that's your thing" He rubs down Ana's folds, she reaches inside his jeans. "Any requests? Any other freaky weird shit you're into. I am down with that. We...are down with that" He grins as he circles Ana's clit and groans as she slowly strokes his cock. "We're pretty fucking comfortable with anything. We love that weird freaky shit" He turns his attention back up to Ana's neck, biting up to her ear lobe.

"So fucking wet" his voice is low in her ear as he pushes two fingers inside her, she responds by squeezing his cock, eliciting a moan from them both.

Lily finally ventures away from the door moving towards them. He smiles onto Ana's skin, removing his slick fingers and slowly pushes them into Ana's mouth.

"Take off those jeans" He commands Lily, his eyes wandering over her as she obediently pulls them down and kicks them aside. Their eyes meet again when she coyly looks up at him and smiles. Ana groans and squirms as he plunges back inside her, pumping slowly, his eyes never leaving Lily's. She stands expectantly, awaiting instruction. Withdrawing his fingers he uses them to beckon Lily over. She inhales sharply as he releases Ana's hair and strips off his shirt, revealing his slim toned body.  "How does she taste" he smirks as he runs them over her lips before inserting them into her eager mouth.

Ana turns to look up at him, eyes heavy with lust, running her nails across his chest and stomach, lowering herself to crouch before him.  Gently he strokes down Lily's neck and shoulder, caresses her breast, teases her nipple with his thumb, smiling as it hardens beneath his touch. Easing down his jeans Ana bites playfully at his thighs. Softly his hand travels down over Lily's stomach, lightly teasing the skin above her panties, maintaining eye contact as he slides inside, feeling her arousal pooling as she sucks enthusiastically on his fingers.

" Damn sweetheart, you are fucking soaked"

Ana trails her tongue over the bulge straining against his boxers, impatiently tugging them down, his erection finally springing free.

 "I lied" she confesses "I did miss this cock."

He looks down at Ana, to watch her tongue swirling around the tip, exploring the head, trailing down the shaft. He groans and throbs as Ana sucks his dick and lily quivers with his fingers inside her.

Withdrawing, Ana stands to move behind Lily, sandwiching her as he kisses up her neck.

"Remember the word?" Ana asks quietly in her ear. 

"Mhm" 

"If you want to stop just say the word" her hands cup Lily's breasts. Lily nods

"I'm good" she pants, her chest heaving. 

"Good. Get on the bed" Ana instructs her, giving her ass a slap, and pushing her playfully.

The girls tumble to the bed. He strokes himself as they kiss, bras unclipped, panties ripped off and cast aside. Playful wrestling as they caress and explore each other,  limbs entwined, until lily finally submits to Ana.

"Well look at my dirty girls" he sneers, laying himself beside them. His face hovers above lily's, watching her expression as Ana crawls over her. Lily leans in towards him mesmerized by his lips just above hers, moves in for a kiss.

"Oh no darlin" his fingers cover her mouth " that, is a no no. Anything else goes, but that is strictly for wives"

His hand slides over her chin and across her throat. Small quiet moans escape her as Ana's lips and tongue tease her nipples, travel over her stomach and down to her aching core, tasting and exploring. Her chest heaves and breathing hitches. 

"I think she might be close Ana" 

Her moans become louder and less inhibited as Ana brings her to the edge. 

"Cum for Ana sweetheart"  he dips down taking a nipple in his mouth, sucking and tugging gently, applying a little pressure to her throat. Lily's senses are overwhelmed and she bucks beneath them both, writhing in waves of pleasure. 

"Good girl." He grins stroking her hair. 

"Now my dick is really in need of some attention" he smirks. Barely giving her time to recover he clutches himself, guiding her head down, offering her his large throbbing cock.

"Suck it darlin"

She gulps and wets her lips, opening her mouth, slowly taking him in, gagging a little.

"Oh honey, you're going to have to open wider than that"  Ana smiles. Holding Lily's hair she guides her slowly up and down his length, before crawling up the bed, positioning herself over his face. Looking down on him.

"Eat me, Negan. Make me cum all over you"

"Bad girl" he grins

Grabbing her firmly by the ass he laps at her, expertly teasing, licking and sucking. Reaching for the wall behind him she steadies herself, rocking her hips over him. She begins to shake, claws at the wall, throws her head back. Lily picks up the pace on his dick. His strong grip around Ana tightens, locking her in place as he sends her soaring over the edge. Loud moans of satisfaction fall from her lips as she clutches at his shoulders, scratches at his skin, riding the wave. Lily withdraws and comes up for air.

" You ready lily? he mumbles from underneath Ana as she gradually subsides and climbs off laying back on her elbows.

Lily cautiously straddles him, slowly and carefully lowering herself. Very slowly. Inch by swollen inch. Negan looks amused. Anna scolds him with a glance. Lily rocks softly as she adjusts. Without warning he impatiently flips them. Looking into her face he slowly eases the rest of the way, and holds still.

"You really want me to fuck you? he teases

Panting erratically she twitches below him trying to get some friction and nods.

"Say it"

"Say what?" she falters

"I wanna hear you say please"

"Please" she says quietly 

"With some fucking conviction girl. ...Please fuck me Negan" 

"Stop toying with her. You're so fuckin cruel sometimes" Ana shakes her head at him

"Dont pretend like you dont love it, Ana" he chuckles "now get your sweet fuckin ass over here..." Ana smiles and crawls back to lily.

."....focus lily, I wanna hear you say it. Please fuck me Negan"

"Please" she swallows hard "please fuck me Negan"

"Thats my good girl" 

He sets a slow steady pace. Ana kisses lily softly. Lily moans into Ana's mouth as her hand moves down gliding between her wet folds. The kiss firmer as she pins her, circling her clit slowly as he pumps rhythmically, gently. Ana's hand wanders. He looks down when he feels her massaging his balls and inhales sharply.

"Ana" he warns. Not breaking the kiss she moves to grasp the base of his cock.

"Ana. Stop, unless you want me to blow my load right now"

She sniggers, putting her attention back to lily's wetness, when she suddenly convulses and arches. He stops abruptly, gritting his teeth and quickly withdraws, grabbing Ana by the hips and dragging her to him as lily writhes beside them.

"You are a bad fucking girl."

She gasps as he plunges into her. He stills, his hand around her throat pulling her up towards him. She backs up onto him, grinding, his hand squeezing her throat. Holding her tight against him, he fiercely slams into her and stills again.

"Bad, dirty girl. Aren't you.?"

"Yes"

"MY bad dirty girl"

"Yes"

Another deep thrust

"Are you gonna behave for me now?"

"Yes, Negan"

"Beg for my cock, beg for me to fuck you"

"Please, Negan. Please"

"I said beg"

"Please, I need it, I need you to fuck me"

Groaning loudly he rams into her again and pounds her relentlessly 

"Yes,don't stop"

Circling her clit with other hand he knows shes already close

"Don't stop. Don't stop. Don't  ..... she shudders and tightens around him

"Oh fuck... jesus ..fucking ...christ" he cries out

Releasing her onto her hands and knees, shaking beneath him, he hastily withdraws and spurts over her ass. Catching their breath he closes his eyes and rests his forehead on her back, until hes completely spent and their breathing returns to normal. Inhaling deeply he opens his eyes to see lily laying and smiling up at him. 

He pulls himself up collecting a shirt from the floor, wipes himself, and cleans Ana's back before tossing the shirt at lily. He collects his clothes and starts to dress. 

"Hey this is my shirt." Lily pouts. Smiling sweetly at Negan "it's ok though"

He briefly glances over at her and continues to dress silently. Ana grabs a shirt and pulls on some jeans. Lily sits up and looks around for the rest of her clothes.

"So..." lily ventures " What happens now?" 

"What do you mean?" He pulls on his boots

" um...us?" She looks from one to the other "what happens now with us?"

Ana and Negan exchange glances 

"Wow you suddenly found your voice. Um...Nothing. There is no us. Look darlin, nothing is fuckin happening here. It was just a casual fuck that's all, a bit of fun. I thought you knew that" he pulls on his jacket

"But ....I thought maybe we could...you know ....have an arrangement."

Ana grabs her cigarettes and rolls her eyes at Negan

"I'm going for a smoke. I'll leave you two love birds to it"

Negan turns to lily with a frown

"Whoah. Let me stop you right there, sweet cheeks. You wanted this. You got it. I'm very happy for you. Today was a great day for you. 'Yay, today was my bestest lucky fucking day. Today was the day I fucked Negan ' you can write it in your journal and tell all your friends"

Lily's eyes suddenly fill

"Dont get your titties in a twist sweetheart, it's just a fuck"

"Such a dick" Ana shakes her head at him as she brushes passed. He groans and rubs his forehead.

"Ok. Ok. For fucks sake. Don't go getting all emotional on me,....I'm just busting your lady nuts. Look... I'm a busy guy, I got this place to run, several wives to entertain, I just dont have the time." He heads for the door. "Dont take it personal.....I'll ..um....see you around." He shakes his head " fucks sake" he mumbles under his breath as he hurriedly leaves.

MASTERLIST