#airstream bed

[manicparadox]

Airstream Flying Cloud, lit by lanterns. ❤️

[bullet-prooflove]

Stay: Colter Shaw x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @kmc1989

It’s been three months since Colter last had his hands on you, since he made love to you in the Airstream, the sound of rain pattering on the roof. He remembers falling asleep tangled up in you, his fingers combing lightly through your hair, his heart thundering against yours.

He also remembers waking up alone, his hand smoothing over the vacant space as he sighed because he’d always been the one that left and he hadn’t realised just how bad that felt until it happened to him.

It’s over coffee that morning that he sits, watching the droplets cascade down the windows and thinks about why it’s different with you.

Other women don’t touch him the way that you touch him, their fingertips don’t stroke over his scars with the same reverence. When they kiss him, they do it like they want to possess him, to own him but with you it’s always soft, always teasing, never lingering. You understand he can’t be tied down because you’re like that yourself, wild, untamed, free.

That’s why he takes you to bed again tonight, why he has you underneath him, thighs gripping his hips as he thrusts into you with a tenderness he reserves for no one else. Everyone before you was just sex, a way of scratching an itch but with you it’s more, it’s always more because you understand the shit he’s been through, because you’ve been through something similar yourself.

You were the Katniss Everdeen of New Mexico, you’d told him one night around the campfire outside. Only with a lot more cult mixed in.

Your head tips back into the pillow as he hits that sweet spot, your core tightening around him, fingertips digging into his skin. His palm comes to rest on your throat, his fingers guiding your gaze back to his because he needs to see those eyes at the height of climax and he needs you to see him.

When you come it’s the most beautiful damn thing he’s ever seen. More radiant than the stars in the night sky or the quiet of an untouched forest.

His forehead comes to rest upon yours as he spills his release inside you, his thumb chasing over the blush of your cheek. There is nothing more intimate than this moment, the sensation of giving himself over to you completely.

Stay, he wants to whisper against your lips as his nose trails over yours, stay right here with me.

But he doesn’t because you won’t, the same way he won’t stay for you.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[naffeclipse]

How would Cryptid Eclipse suddenly found their Y/N turned into a 'Mothman' (somehow. Maybe like werewolf situation but Mothman)?

Oh, this is fascinating! Perhaps the little hunter received a bite or scratch, a small injury that they've received dozens of times before and watched heal and turn into a scar, and maybe there's a symptom or two but they brush it aside despite their sweetie's complaint. It's nothing that they don't make a tiny note of in their book. Y/N researched beforehand about the potential of the cryptid infecting a human and transforming them into something monstrous, but it's not a werewolf, so there's no need to worry. It'll heal. They're a little feverish but it'll pass. Don't worry, sweetie.

It could be very scary at first. If Eclipse, say, after returning from a little midnight hearty snack, finds a mothman creature in Y/N's bed where their little hunter just was, red glowing eyes round and staring back, Eclipse is going to attack.

Eclipse is furious and blinded by rage and panic for Y/N but strangely, the creature flapping and thrashing over the quilts has the same heartbeat as their little hunter. They keep squawking at Eclipse, calling them by name. The cryptid looks terrified and bewildered, too. It just doesn't make sense until Eclipse stops attacking long enough to hear the beast cry out "Sweetie, it's me!"

Then Eclipse stop, their claws around the fluff of their throat, and ask "Heart?"

Eclipse helps them sit up and stare at them, their body covered in tiny pine green and cream colored scales and their wings are large and angled, decorated in great patterns of mud brown with piercing green eyespots.

You're still their heart, freaking out and trying to make your wings stop knocking into the walls of the airstream while simultaneously trying to grab your book to jot everything down. Eclipse decides they can make one except for the mothman creature they so despise—because it's you.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Came upon another of my former posts that didn't sell. The 1989 home in Lake Placid, NY has 9bds, 10ba. It's been for sale since 2022 at $31.15M. In 2023, it was reduced to $15M. Taken off the market for 2mos., it's listed again for $15M.

It looks like one of those little German weather houses, doesn't it? Well, you won't believe what's inside.

The interesting living room. Well, we can barely see the fireplace w/all the stuff.

Long formal dining room.

Have you ever seen a kitchen with a gate? I mean, unless they have a dog as tall as a human, that's not a pet gate. There are also bars behind the cooktop. Look at the lights under the cabinets, so they look like they're hovering.

The kitchen is very small for a $15M house.

We're going downstairs, now.

Family room with a huge stone fireplace.

There's a door to this covered patio with a built-in fire pit and swinging sofas.

The home is like a maze of halls.

There's a shower in here, and is that a hot tub or a water feature? Nice ceiling and rock wall.

Double doors and a hall leading to the primary bedroom. This house doesn't look this big from outside.

The bedroom is weird. I just learned that this black thing is a Japanese Luong bed, probably custom made.

Check out the marble en-suite.

Look at this long hall.

It leads to this area with a spiral staircase, a bear, and a fake tree.

The spiral stairs go up to a guest apt.

It has a bigger kitchen than the main house.

The bedroom. Very spacious apt.

Out on the deck. Across the way, see that cabin on huge trunks? That's a guest cabin.

Well. This is certainly is literally in the trees.

Behind the treehouse is another house.

There's another apt. in here with a cool kitchen. Love the two-tone cabinets.

Here's a shooting range downstairs.

Yet another living quarters with a full kitchen.

Makeshift bedroom in the garage.

But, that's not all the living quarters. There's still a vintage Airstream trailer on the property.

They ruined it with the cement coating inside. Well, this property is big- it's 46.64 acres with lots of living quarters.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/116-Bear-Cub-Ln-Lake-Placid-NY-12946/30429336_zpid/

[justourimaginations]

Til the End (Colter Shaw x Fe!Reader)

This is inspired by the song “Until the end” by Dean Lewis

Summary: You got hurt on a job and Colter remembers the first time you told him you loved him when he didn’t say it back, so as soon as you wake up, he tells you how he feels.

Trigger Warnings: mentions of head trauma, fluff and some angst

about 900 words

-------------------------

Colter held on to his coffee cup, staring into the steam ascending from it. He was sitting at the table in the Airstream, his leg bopping up and down in anticipation. You were snuggled up in his bed, passed out. You had been knocked out by your target hitting the back of his gun on your head. Colter had found you and taken you to the hospital. You got stitches and they discharged you, Colter however was still worried. You had fallen asleep in the car and he had carried you to the bed. His phone vibrated and he quickly answered it before it could wake you.

“Hey Reenie” he sighed.

“How is she doing, is she okay?” Reenie asked worried.

“Yeah, they sent her home with me, she’s sleeping” Colter replied.

“Oh, thank god” Reenie sighed in relief.

“I’ll have her call you when she wakes up” Colter promised.

“Yes please, Colter” Reenie replied and hung up.

Colter ran his hand through his hair and looked over to you. He thought about a few nights ago. He had been working another job in another town. You had stayed behind in the trailer, trying to get some writing done. When he had returned to the trailer after finishing the job you had just gotten into bed. Your face had lit up when you had seen him and he had felt his whole body relax at the sight of you. He had stripped down to his boxers and climbed in bed with you, resting his head on your chest. You had run your fingers through his hair in the dark and lightly massaged his tense shoulders. He had rolled off you and lied next to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulled you close to him, your back to his chest. He had buried his face in the back of your neck, absently placing kisses along your shoulders. You had chuckled at the sudden amount of affection. He had lost track of time of how long you were just lying there close to each other.

“Colter?” you had asked his name quietly. He hummed in response, absently stroking your waist.

“I love you” you had simply said. His heart had skipped a beat, and he hadn't known how to reply. He had known but he hadn't been able to say it. He couldn’t remember the last time someone other than his mother or sister had told him these three words. His heartbeat had fastened, afraid of how you would react when he didn’t say it back.

“I don’t expect you to answer. I just wanted you to know” you had added like you had read his mind and scooted even closer to him underlining your statement.

“Just hold me and say you won’t leave” you had asked of him, and he wouldn’t have wanted to do anything else.

“I won’t” he had replied with a husky voice and tightened his grip around you.

You had fallen asleep in his arms that night and the next morning Teddi had called to give you the details for another job, the one he had just finished with you.

“Colter?” your voice pulled him back into the presence and he quickly got up.

“Hey” he smiled at you. You rubbed your eyes.

“Ow” you grimaced and touched your head. He looked at you worried, his brows drawn together.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“My head hurts, but I’ll be fine” you smiled at him tiredly. “Why are you over there?” You pouted at him. He chuckled and crawled into bed next to you. You hummed, turning to him. He was watching you closely, lifting your chin so you’d look at him and pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

“What is it?” you asked, noticing the painful expression on his face and cupping his cheek. He moved your hand from his face and held it in his own, pressing a kiss to the back of it, making you smile.

“I’m all in” he mumbled.

“What?” you furrowed your brows.

“I pushed so many people away, not opening up, scared that they would leave, like my dad, my brother, my sister, but with you… I feel safe, warm. You’re everything I thought I could never have” he rambled on. “And I don’t know what I’d do without you, Y/N.”

“Hey” you said, it was your turn to lift his chin so he would look at you. His eyes were glassy as he looked at you full of love.

“Where is this coming from?” you asked. It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate him sharing his feelings, but you were worried at the manner he was doing it in.

“When I saw you lying there, for a moment I thought” he swallowed hard.

“I’m fine Colter” you assured him, and he nodded.

“When you told me you loved me a few nights ago, I knew I love you back, but I thought if I told you, something would go wrong, it always does” he confessed. “But when I thought I had lost you today, even just for a minute, all I could think was that I didn’t tell you.” Now he was making your eyes well up. You watched his face closely. He bit his lip.

“I love you so much” he finally finished his little speech.

“I love you too” you smiled and pulled him close, and he pressed you against him like he was starving for physical touch.

[neocoffeecafe]

quiet (m) | home | writing masterlist | fic rec library

includes/warnings mirror sex, unprotected sex, fem!reader, creampie, mostly clothed sex, keeping quiet, mean neighbors, mean dom!yangyang, plus sized friendly!reader, choking, spit swallowing, big dick!yang, degradation, pet names, etc

wc 1k

a/n i love rough smut and soft aftercare

“you said you’d keep quiet.”

but how could you?

he's got one hand stuffed in your little wet pink laced panties and the other arm snaked up over your belly and his fingers threaten your airstream.

your legs rapidly shift back and forth as his speed quickens, his fingernails teasing your bud. for the nth time, you cum on his hand. and once again, he has you tasting your own cum and his tight grip on your face makes you watch your pretty reflection as it sucks on yangyangs fingers.

he releases his fingers with a pop to your cherry lips, smiling down at your twitching body with this shit-eating grin on his face as he is well aware of the impact just his fingers have on you.

“please.” you beg again that night, fingers playing with the hem of his hoodie that you wore and hips bucking upwards which is received by a steady hand pressing you back on the mattress.

“i already said no. you’re too loud. you don’t want the neighbors to hear, do you?”

no.

last time the neighbors heard loud screams and the sounds of the bed smacking against the wall, they came and gave yangyang a homemade knuckle sandwich that wasn't so appetizing. they were upset, rightfully so, that they were woken up so early in the morning by their sex-driven neighbors who just couldn’t tame themselves.

he slapped the side of your face, just to get you to focus back on him. to stare at his eyes in the mirror that loomed over you like a wolf ready to strike a poor rabbit, helpless of its defenses.

“well? you don’t want them to hear us do you?”

he was teasing you. threatening you.

“please.” you beg, feeling his fingers on your neck again.

“please what? you think the neighbors will hear your cries and begs for help?”

his hand leaves the warmth of your core and you whine in response, getting a slap to the side of your face in return.

“slut.” he spits. “you better stay quiet.” he hisses, his one hand skillfully pulling the lace off of you, discarding it to the abyss of the floor of the bedroom. the same hand fumbles with his belt and slips it away from his waist, placing the belt on the bed. you gasp as you hear the sound of the zippers to his jeans zipping down, and watch as his flesh is now visible to your eye.

his hand is slow as it slides up and down, up and down, up and down…

“what if this was you, sweetheart? such a shame you can’t be quiet enough for it.”

your hand betrays your body as it instinctively reaches for his cock, but your stopped by a hand gripping your wrist tightly.

“nuh uh. not so fast.” he pushes you off of him, and in a swift motion you’re not in between his legs in his lap anymore.

the mirror is blocked by his body above you, and your vision is cut off by his face as his lips connect with yours, effectively keeping you quiet as his tip presses your core.

god he was so close to bottoming out and completely destroying your walls, having you fly your arms around his arched back. your sharp nails resort to dig into his skin, clawing at his back as he shows his first sign of weakness: a little whimper.

you eye the crescent moons that decorated his honey skin, both crotches humping each other as he was not willing to slide into you yet. he wasn’t willing to let the bed smack against the wall.

not yet, at least.

his lips leave your face and move to nibble at your neck, catching your skin in between his teeth and sucking on it after, like soothing a wound.

finally, you feel just his tip inside of you.

“more.” you whimper, your voice hushed.

“patience, princess.” he snarls, his teeth pressing down especially hard at your request for more of him, his cock slowly slipping further and further inside of you, but stops. “thats one.”

“fuck.” you’re relieved but also disappointed as you now understand, he’s making you count inches.

“you can count the rest, baby.”

so you do.

you count. and count. and count, until you finally reach seven, and he's balls deep inside. you feel like you can’t breathe, like your airway was taken away from you.

“hold tight, princess. remember: stay quiet.” his lips press to yours again, and he slides out, and thrusts inside much harder than before. he repeats this process until the bed is squeaking and rocking, ever so close to smacking against the wall.

his moans sound so sweet. his lips leave yours abandoned and he’s loud.

his groans and moans are so pretty, his hand lifting your hoodie up and large hand groping your breasts, your own moans syncing in harmony with his, the whole concept of keeping quiet long forgotten when his pace speeds up somehow more, the bed frame now hitting the wall with each sharp thrust.

“fuck baby. you feel so good around me.” he chuckles, his free hand parting your lips to spit in your mouth, leaving you obedient enough to swallow. “you like that?” he hums.

“m’gonna cum.” you whine, your fingernails digging even more into his skin. he sucks his teeth and lets out a loud growl, taking a hand and losing itself in your hair, pulling it and occasionally rubbing your head.

“cum for me.” he commands, his hand from your breast reaching down to play with the parts of your pussy exposed to him, the parts that were smashed by the little orbs on his crotch. “think i’m gonna cum too. cum with me, angel.”

the two of you are on sync as both highs are chased at once, the warm seeds you share mixing together and seeping out of your sore hole. he’s frozen above you, a satisfied grin on his face as you continue to fuck yourself on his cock, pushing his warm cum further in yourself.

“you look so hot with my cum in you.” he leans back, away from you to admire his work. “let’s continue to give the neighbors a little show.”

@neocoffeecafe

[justlightlysedated]

It's WIP WEDNESDAY!! And I'm here with a sneak peek for my secretly married malex fic, which is called 'call it young, dumb love (and it's just enough)'

This is the last scene of Part One!

December 2013

Michael is in the middle of a call with Isobel when his call waiting starts beeping. Since he doesn't really want to listen to anything else that Isobel is saying, he hangs up on her midword and answers the call.

"Yeah?" he answers, feeling just a bit apprehensive.

"Is this Michael Guerin?" an official sounding voice speaks, sounding sharp and precise.

"Who wants to know?" Michael asks, regretting picking up this phone call.

"I am calling on behalf of Lieutenant Alexander Manes, and need to reach Michael Guerin," the person says, sounding just slightly annoyed, but Michael ignores that as his heart lodges into his throat and starts pounding.

"Yes, I am Michael Guerin, is Alex okay?"

"This is a courtesy call in accordance with paperwork previously submitted by Lieutenant Manes. There was an incident, where Lieutenant Manes was hurt and he is undergoing surgery. We cannot release any more information at this time, but will be letting you know as soon as we are aware of the outcome."

Michael doesn't feel as relieved as he should be. And he barely hears what the person on the other end of the phone says before they hang up.

Alex is hurt, and he's probably somewhere halfway around the world, and Michael can't do anything but stay here and wait for a phone call that might tell him that Alex had died in the middle of a surgery.

It had been over a year since the last time he actually saw Alex face to face. And that last time hadn't ended well. Alex had told him that he was being sent overseas, and he had no idea when he'd be back. Michael had gotten drunk and had picked a fight with Alex during his last night.

He'd driven off without knowing where he was going to go, and found himself in the drunk tank before the night was over.

By the time he'd made it back to the airstream, it was after noon and Alex had been long gone.

He'd left behind a note, a small slip of a thing that Michael hadn't seen for a couple of weeks, until he'd had someone else in his bed and they'd found it.

Michael had snatched the piece of paper away from them and kicked them out without further ado.

In Alex's terrible handwriting had been the message, I'm sorry. I love you.

Michael looks down at his phone and pulls up his recent messages from Alex. Alex can't really text from overseas, but he sends emails, and his last email came several weeks ago, telling Michael that he's sorry for missing their anniversary once again.

Michael finds himself spiraling, thoughts coming all at once and overwhelming him. He falls back on his bed and leans down, dropping his head in his hands, before leaning down and reaching for one of the bottles stashed beneath his bed.

He barely remembers anything about the next several days. He's sure somewhere in that drunken stupor he gets a call regarding Alex's outcome, but Michael stops answering any phone calls, and hides his phone away somewhere he won't be able to find it easily.

It's almost three weeks of this, and two interventions by Isobel and one by Max that ends with Michael throwing up all over the floor of Max's jeep, when Michael gets woken up by a loud knocking on his door.

Michael groans, feeling like his brain is about to explode out of his skull. He tries reaching for any bottle with liquid, but out of all of the bottles on his floor, all of the ones he can reach seem to be empty.

There is another flurry of knocks on the door, and Michael shuts his eyes tight, not wanting to deal with this, but knowing that whoever knew to find him here, wouldn't just leave him alone.

He lets out a long sigh, and then forces himself off the bed.

"Guerin!" a voice calls out as the person knocks again. At the sound, Michael freezes, feeling both weightless and like his body is made out of concrete.

"Alex," he says in a low voice, before he moves faster than he had this whole time and whips the door open.

And there he is.

Alex.

Standing right in front of Michael, looking exasperated and tired, with his arm in a sling and white bandages peeking out from beneath the collar of the plain black shirt he's wearing.

As Michael stares at him, Alex smiles, looking relieved and happy to be standing in front of Michael.

It's a sight for sore eyes. Michael feels something that had been weighing him down, wrapped around his ribs, dissolve instantly.

For the first time since receiving that call, Michael feels like he can breathe again.

"Hello," Alex says, soft and fond, waving with the hand not strapped to his chest.

Michael is startled into movement, he drops down from the entrance of the airstream and walks right into Alex, wrapping his arms around him. Alex flinches minutely, but before Michael can think to let him go, Alex wraps his good arm around Michael's waist and presses his face hard into Michael's shoulder, slumping into his hold. In return, Michael tightens his hold on Alex, leaning his head against the top of Alex's head.

He doesn't know how long they stay standing like that, but before too long, Alex pulls back stiffly. 

Michael lets him go immediately, clenching his hands to stop himself from reaching out again and pulling Alex close. He wants to pull Alex's shirt off, and unwrap all of his bandages and take a good look at his wound.

He envies for the first time in his life that Max is the one who can heal people.

It would be worth it, telling Alex his secret, no matter how he would react if he could stop Alex from hurting.

Alex breathes in deeply, "I know it's been a while, but come with me? There's something I want to show you."

He holds his hand out, and Michael wants nothing more than to take his hand and follow him anywhere.

But he still remembers how they'd left things the last time that he'd seen Alex face to face. An issue they hadn't talked about in any of the emails they've sent each other over the last couple of months.

"What are you doing here?" Michael asks instead of grabbing Alex's hand and never letting go. "Thought you said you'd never step foot back in town."

Alex inhales deeply, but he looks at Michael like he had been expecting push back so is not surprised. Michael wants to bristle at that, but despite not knowing about Michael's whole alien thing, Alex knows him the best out of everyone.

"I was angry, and I wanted to hurt you," Alex says, the words rehearsed, like he's repeated them to himself over and over. "You were pushing me away, even though you know it's futile. I was scared that I was going to die. And getting shot just puts things into a bigger perspective."

Michael can't help the way that he reacts to that last part. Alex just gives him a pleading look.

"We're still married. You're still my husband. If I wanted nothing to do with you, I'd have sent you divorce papers."

Michael nods his head once. He swallows back the words he wants to say, telling Alex that he's sorry for what he said, that he hadn't meant any of it either, that Alex leaving always tore him apart, and Alex going overseas for an undetermined amount of time was something that he didn't think he could survive.

He'd been wrong. Somehow, he survived, but that doesn't mean that it didn't hurt like hell.

"This year's been hell," Michael finds himself saying, and Alex nods his head in agreement.

"I know, for me too, but I think what I have to show you will make the next couple of years easier to bear."

Michael breathes out, and then nods his head once again, reaching out for Alex's still outstretched hand.

Alex tugs him away from the airstream, barely letting him close the door behind himself.

Michael doesn't know how Alex got here, but he lets himself be pushed into his truck, and follows Alex's directions, driving across town, the streets still in the barely there light of the morning. They drive down a dirt path and through winding roads, until they reach a house, not in the middle of nowhere, but far away enough from every other house in the neighborhood to give the illusion of privacy. 

They pull in front of the almost dilapidated house, the paint on the garage door is peeling and the wooden fence is rotting in places.

Alex tells him to park the truck in the driveway and gets out before the engine is off. Michael follows after him at a slower rate, watching as Alex pulls a pair of keys out of his pocket and opens the front door, turning to look at Michael once before walking inside.

Michael follows him inside, down a hallway with peeling wallpaper and cobwebs hanging around the corners, and into a large space where a single chair sits in the middle. 

He finds Alex sitting down on the low counter that separates what looks like the kitchen from the rest of the room, looking at Michael eagerly.

"What is this place?" Michael asks, because he knows what his heart is hoping for, but it all seems too good to be true. 

"It's a house," Alex says obviously, ignoring the look that Michael gives him. "I bought it for us. Both of our names are on the deed."

Michael takes an unintended step towards Alex and then forces himself to stop, "What?"

"You said you wanted to be married. That you wanted a house, kids, a dad band."

Alex doesn't look at Michael as he speaks, like he can't bear to look at his face, like he thinks that Michael has changed his mind.

"We have a domestic partnership, but gay marriage has been legal here for a couple of days, we can go get an actual marriage license. And we have this house. The rest of it I'll give to you once my contract is up. If that's still something that you want."

Michael is moving before Alex can finish speaking, getting into his line of sight, and looking at him seriously.

"What about you?" Michael asks, as Alex watches him with dark confused eyes. "What do you want?"

Alex straightens up, giving Michael a serious look, "What I want hasn't changed."

Michael's eyes dart all over Alex's face before he steps closer, setting one hand down beside where Alex is sitting.

Alex looks down at his hand and follows his arm back up to Michael's face.

"I still want all of it with you," Michael says, and feels something crack in his chest at the look of relief that Alex gives him. "But I hate it when you're gone."

"I hate being gone," Alex says helplessly. "But I still have five more years."

Michael exhales roughly because he knows. He knows that Alex signed up for one of the longest military contracts there was, that he did it because once he got out, he would be set for life.

Alex keeps talking, "I know it's a lot to ask, but if you're willing to wait, I'll give you everything you want and more. I've spent this last year thinking about what you said, and I want to build this life with you, but you have to stop pushing me away. I'm in this for good."

"I'll try," Michael says after a long moment.

"That's all I'm asking for," Alex says back, lifting one hand to Michael's shoulder and sliding it up to the side of his neck. 

Michael shivers at the touch and sets his other hand on the counter, caging Alex between his arms.

Alex leans in close and presses his forehead to Michael's, closing his eyes.

"I've missed you," Alex says in a low, shaky voice. "Emails really aren't enough. Especially when you take so long to answer."

Michael hums in agreement, leaning in closer to nudge his nose against Alex's.

Alex pulls back a little bit, opening his eyes and lifting an eyebrow in question.

Michael drops his eyes to the bandages he can still see peeking out of the collar of Alex's shirt.

"Can I?" he asks, looking back up to Alex's face.

Alex gives him an unreadable look for a moment before he nods his head.

Michael doesn't waste any time. He slides the sling off Alex as carefully as he can, but Alex still hisses a little, clenching his jaw.

Michael doesn't stop, though, moving his hands to the hem of Alex's shirt and urging it up over his head. 

Alex keeps quiet through it all, not saying anything as Michael starts to unpeel the gauze covering the wound.

Michael feels the air punching out of his lungs as he looks at the still healing wound. There are no stitches, and it is mostly closed up again, the scar tissue looking very red and new. Michael's hands shake as he presses his fingers to the scar. Alex's breath hitches at that, and Michael looks up to his face.

Alex's eyes are closed, and his brow is furrowed.

"What happened?"

Alex inhales deeply and opens his eyes. "There was an ambush, and I was shot. The bullet went straight through, but the injury was aggravated afterward, and I had to have surgery or risk losing any mobility for good."

Michael closes his eyes, leaning down and pressing a kiss on the edge of the wound. Alex's breath hitches again, and his hand goes to the back of Michael's head, fingers tangling in the strands.

Michael doesn't move, pressing his forehead to Alex's shoulder, careful not to press down on the injury.

"I wish-" he starts, not knowing how he's going to end the statement.

He wishes he could wrap Alex in bubble wrap and keep him trapped in the airstream for the rest of his life. He wishes that he could go with Alex and protect him when he's out in the battlefield, sending anything that could hit and injure him far, far away. He wishes he could finally find all the pieces of his spaceship and take Alex far away from this hell of a planet.

Alex tugs against his hold on Michael's hair, and Michael lifts his head, and Alex tugs him into a kiss. 

Michael pushes into the kiss immediately, wrapping his hands around the backs of Alex's knees and tugging him in closer before wrapping his arms around Alex's waist and kissing him harder. 

Alex hitches his knees on either side of Michael's hips, lifting his injured arm with a hiss, separating their mouths.

Michael makes to pull back, opening his mouth to apologize, but Alex digs his fingers to Michael's scalp and crosses his shins behind Michael's thighs, pulling him closer.

"No, stay, stay," Alex says, voice low and scratchy as he kisses him again.

Michael falls against Alex, hands pressed to Alex's back and licks into his mouth.

Alex moans and rubs his hand across the back of Michael's neck.

Michael loses himself in the kiss, pressing closer and closer until Alex is lying back on the counter and Michael is climbing up after him.

Alex's head falls back as he gasps for air, and Michael presses his mouth to Alex's throat, sliding his hands down to undo the button on Alex's jeans.

"Not where I imagined the first time we'd have sex in this house," Alex says, fingers tugging restlessly against Michael's hair.

"Oh yeah?" Michael mutters against the skin of his throat, hands sliding into Alex's boxers.

Alex makes a strangled sound as Michael wraps a hand around his half-hard cock, and his head thunks back against the counter.

"Yeah," he says breathlessly. "There's a reason I had a mattress delivered earlier today."

Michael lifts his head at that, moving his hands out of Alex's pants to help himself balance above him. Alex makes a noise in protest at the back of his throat, but opens his eyes to look at Michael.

"So sure of yourself that you needed a mattress, huh?" Michael asks teasingly, leaning in close enough for a kiss but not taking it.

Alex just grins up at him, "Where else did you think I was going to sleep for the next six weeks of medical leave?"

Michael goes still with surprise for one second, eyes darting all over Alex's face before he kisses him hard and fast.

Alex laughs as Michael gets down from the counter, wrapping his arms around Alex's waist and tugging him upright, before wrapping his hands around the back of Alex's thighs and hauling him into his arms.

Alex's laugh turns into a delighted gasp as he wraps one arm around Michael's shoulders and presses the fingers of his bad arm to Michael's face. The tips of his fingers too cold against Michael's skin.

He's still smiling as he kisses, Michael soft and sweet, before nudging their noses together, "Come on, Mr. Guerin, take me to bed."

Michael kisses him again, and concentrates on using his abilities to make sure he has a secure hold on Alex, before he turns towards the only open door where he can just see the edges of a mattress that is lying on the floor. "As you wish, Mr. Guerin."

-

For the next six weeks, Alex turns their house into a home, and Michael sleeps beside him on their bed, in their room, in their house.

And then he's gone.

Michael doesn't see him again for almost five years.

[htchnr]

ミ★ purest hell ꜜ ASH WILLIAMS.

𖦹 masterlist. 𖦹 buy me a ko-fi!

「 ꜜsummary,, < part one here > after that first night together, the two of you have found sense of comfort in each other. not in the most healthiest of ways — but after all that you've both been through, who can really blame you two? 」

「 ꜜcontent,, sex as a coping mechanism ⋆ hint at a slightly unhealthy/toxic relationship ⋆ mention of trauma's ⋆ unprotected sex ⋆ rough sex ⋆ creampie ⋆ sex in the trailer while Pablo drives ⋆ mention of drunk sex ⋆ mention of heavy drinking. ꜜwc,, 0,8k. 」

© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐇𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐍𝐑. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦, 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!

after that night spent together things had been a little less tense for you and Ash. the two of you found an outlet in each other, able to just feel each other when everything was too much.

but that was it — not a single change in behaviour besides the hookups. his bad flirting didn't feel more genuine, if anything, it lessened. and you could find peace in that. an outlet that truly didn't change a thing between you two. the sex was great, the momentary comfort and numbing even better. it helped the both of you cope with the trauma both of you had experienced around Evil.

a harsh thrust pulls you out of your thoughts, your face contorting with pleasure as his fat cock bullied your insides. as of late, this happened nearly every night, one of you couldn't sleep, in turn you'd crawl into the other's bed and wear yourselves out till your bodies forced you to go to sleep.

the sex after that first night became wordless, only the occasional 'i'm close' or quiet plea to quicken the pace. and you were both fine with that.

after you had arrived in Jacksonville you joined Ash in his nightly parties, getting wasted while you were with other people and then later in the night stumble into his airstream with his heavy figure covering yours, his lips dragging urgently across your skin.

the hangovers felt less bad when you woke up beside him, his heavy arm draped across your waist as he snored away into the afternoon. wake up, repeat.

it temporarily numbed the part you desperately wanted to forget — the Necronomicon, Ruby and her spawn, your dead friends, people getting possessed. " m'close, baby- " he grunts, his hips picking up their pace. your hands clutch the sheets below you, pushing your hips back into his thrusts as he fucks you from behind.

you press your face into the sheets, face contorted with pleasure as Ash chases his high. his metal fingers digging into the small, ugly existing bruises where his fingers usually bite into when he grabs onto your hips.

a bump in the road causes him to tip over you, " oh shit-! " you cry out against the sheets as his heavy figure is pushed against yours, his fat cock thrusting in impossibly deep.

Pablo had offered to drive for a while — the three of you being on the road again after Ruby had broken the truce. things had started to tense up again between you and Ash — it didn't take a genius to figure out he was dreading going back home.

your moments together certainly had gotten more tense, seeing a darker, frustrated version of him. you gasp as he pushes himself up, using the changed position to push in even deeper. his grip shifts to your thighs, practically slamming you into the mattress. you were only half a day away from Elk Grove and you could definitely feel it in the way he fucks you.

" c'mon, give t'me, Ash-! " you whine, your thighs shaking in overstimulation. you feel him twitch against your walls, his grunts sounding more and more feral as he chases his high.

you too, dread Elk Grove in a way. you dread being thrust into Deadite horror, dread the thought of seeing Ruby again. you more than anything dread not being able to fall back to your routine of numbing the stress and trauma with a good party and some rough, drunk sex. being targeted by Deadites meant being alert and sober, focused and ready for anything.

" fuck, m'gonna- " he groans behind you, his heavy figure dropping against you again as he thrusts a few more times before stilling. you moan as you feel him cum, painting your walls with his spend.

it takes him a few minutes before he rolls off of you, turning to lay on his back beside you. you remain on your stomach, only shifting to nuzzle your face against Ash's sweaty bicep. your body's sore and tired, the nights were restless and filled with nightmares again. you exhale deeply, throwing an arm over his waist as you close your eyes.

you know sleep won't hold you long, that it'll just leave you sweaty and panicking in just a few hours — but the bliss of post-sex sleep is tugging at you and you can't deny it's welcoming call.

[true-blue-sonic]

Good morning/afternoon/evening!

💖+ espilver for the ask game

Because why not👀(/hj you don't have to write this if you don't want to hehe I'm just curious)

I'm kinda late ik😔

No worries, I'll gladly take late submissions if it means I can write for the bois again ^-^

💖 rough kiss / hot and heavy / making out

Silver, an enigma to many, has one habit which even for complete strangers is difficult to overlook: he likes floating.

It's not uncommon for Espio to enter a room and be faced with his psychic bopping up and down above a couch or chair or bed or simply the ground. Of course, Silver adores full flying at neckbreaking speeds too, the chameleon knows; but his beloved seems equally fond of just fluttering mindlessly in the air and letting the world wash over him like the airstreams around. When asked about it, Silver had explained he doesn't even notice it is happening sometimes; something about psychic powers being second nature and such an extension of him they can carry out his desires without him even needing to think of them. Espio certainly does notice, though, and it never fails to put a smile on his face.

Of course, Silver's second nature also means the psychic doesn't exactly care about how he's floating sometimes.

Which apparently is upside-down today, as Espio enters the room and is faced with a whole mesh of quills and limbs sticking out in directions they normally very much do not.

"Are you having fun, tenshi?" the chameleon inquires with a chuckle, once he's determined where Silver's head is positioned. The hedgehog's hands bungle limply down beside it, legs sticking up in the air with crooked knees; Espio can't say it looks particularly comfortable compared to Silver's usual reclined flying positions. But Silver nods, head craning up to peek at Espio with mischief gleaming in his eyes, and Espio gladly reaches out to pet his quills in their strange positioning.

"If I wasn't, I wouldn't be hanging like this."

"A good consideration." Silver's also hanging quite high above the ground, with his fingertips just barely grazing over the dinky flooring and his eyes on about the same height as Espio's if he really strains his neck, which he of course is. "But be careful you don't hurt yourself," the chameleon naturally adds to fret, fingers diving into Silver's fluffy mane on his back next to massage at the muscles there.

With a snicker at the touches Silver shakes out his pelt. "Espio, I'm flexible as can be."

"Not as flexible as I am," Espio retorts smugly, golden eyes narrowing at that.

"I don't see you hanging upside-down like this." Though, despite his bragging, Silver's head drops down again mere seconds later as the hedgehog grunts. "Ouch."

"Hm hm," the chameleon makes sure to tease... or he would, if his hum of fake agreement didn't get cut off by the back of Silver's head knocking awkwardly into his belly instead. That makes him grunt and Silver laugh, the other bopping up and down with an altogether cheekiness to it.

"I'll just prove to you that I am, then."

Rubbing his affronted peach stomach Espio raises an eyebrow. "And how would you do that, dear Silver?"

"Like so," Silver retorts, smirk clear in his voice and also on his face as he cranes his neck upwards again and flounders his limbs somewhat and moves his lips closer to Espio's-!

And promptly both Silver and Espio yelp as Silver's forehead crashes right into Espio's chin, grey quills entangle in a yellow horn, Espio staggers and throws out an elbow by instinct, Silver gets struck right in the cheek, and in a mere second both hedgehog and chameleon find themselves tumbled right onto the ground.

"Owwww." Rubbing his muzzle Silver growls, fur shooting right up like an indignant dandelion as thunder crosses onto his face. "Espio, what the heck?!"

Finding himself a bit too preoccupied with grasping his chin Espio merely huffs something along the lines of "You hurt me!" back. Childish, yes, except he's got a rather aching face and a hedgehog laying sprawled out over his complaining stomach all of a sudden. "I told you to be careful," is the next thing that comes to his mind, which makes Silver bristle at him only more.

"I literally warned you."

"Did not."

"Did so!"

"Did not," Espio retorts, Silver's mouth shooting open again for presumably the same retort- but an idea strikes the chameleon as that protest comes. He knows they can be at this for hours, both of them digging their heels in the ground and refusing to admit fault, but poor Silver is clutching both his cheek and his forehead... Making up for that by finishing what the hedgehog started surely won't be protested against so much.

And thus, as the next agitated "You didn't listen!!" follows, Espio leans closer to press a peck right against the other's lips.

Silver freezes for a moment, Espio gladly taking the opportunity to drag his hands over the other's body and smooth out his puffy fur. "Hmh!" gets grumbled at him as he does so, which would have been threatening if it hadn't been for the way the hedgehog eagerly scoots closer over his legs. "Rhwudwe!"

Pulling away with a grin Espio shakes his head. "Too easy. Considering you are the one making me worried about your neck, I would say that's fair payback, no?" And a silent apology, his fingers tenderly trailing over a peach cheek to rub away any remaining aches there.

With a little hum Silver oozes into the touches, though a grey eyebrow does get raised at Espio's words. "I'm gonna make you hang upside-down for an hour," the hedgehog threatens back, sparks of cyan spilling over Espio's scales and frighteningly tugging at his body and tail. But also that is not the first time such threats are made, and thus it makes the chameleon chuckle, finger pressing on a twitching black nose.

"Or, if I may offer an alternative, we can both fly in a normal position. Would allow us to get in another kiss without any risk of personal injury."

"...Good point," the hedgehog nods pensively, and promptly Espio gets flicked into the air in full; but Silver's body flits underneath it and he gets lowered on a fuzzy chest, a warm blanket of fluff that's made only more snug with a warm embrace. Plus, this position allows for a far more tender kiss getting pressed against his chin first and his lips next, little clicks and purrs rumbling in Silver's body. "That's less rough, huh," the other grins as they pull away for breath, Espio nodding back with a smile on his own.

"This is just perfect."

"Three of my favourite things at once. I couldn't ask for more," Silver agrees, before Espio finds his face firmly tucked away in the other's mane where he can press little kisses while lithe fingers toy with his crest. He loves Silver's floating even more like this, the chameleon decrees, if it allows him to be so comfortable.

...Except when Silver attempts to flip the both of them upside-down after all and a prompt kissing attempt goes wrong again, and Espio finds himself clutching his horn this time while the hedgehog mischievously nuzzles it to soothe its aching.

Second nature, Espio sighs inwardly, and he's certain quite a few more kisses will be traded between the two of them if Silver keeps up his floating endeavours like this.

Somehow, he can't find it in himself to complain about it in the slightest.

[pickledpascal]

Staring Into the Blue

Pairing: Beau Arlen and Surrogate Daughter OC (Andi)

Warnings: self-worth issues, emotional hurt/comfort, andi has daddy issues and is hating life a little

A/N: i made this when i was half delirious/asleep and started thinking of my own relationship with my parents sooooo yeah... have fun with this one lol

Word Count: 2.2k

Jensen Ackles Masterlist

Beau was new to this whole thing. As was Andi.

Andi was a nineteen-year-old girl who, for all intents and purposes, was Beau’s surrogate daughter. Emily still had a place in his heart, and always would, but Andi was… a special case. 

They had met when she was eighteen, freshly in college, and had one too many drinks one night which landed her in detainment, and ultimately had a talk with the sheriff. Being intoxicated, Beau’s initial rant about her needing to take better care of herself and how underage drinking was bad was undermined by Andi spilling her guts to him. Metaphorically speaking.

Andi didn't have parents. At least, not ones who cared about her all that much. As soon as she turned eighteen, they promptly threw her out of the house. Sure they had helped her get into college but they didn't care what happened after. Glad to get her out. 

So Beau took her in. Gave her a home. Loved her.

It was all so much for Andi. And made her think about her real parents. How happy they were without her. How happy they were not acknowledging they kicked their child out of their house to fend for herself just to be picked up and loved by a stranger. Beau didn't know her parents—he wasn't her honorary uncle or even a real uncle. He was the sheriff of Helena and a pretty good one at that. 

It took a while but Beau convinced Andi to live with him instead of the housing on campus. A month or so into Andi’s hopefully permanent stay at Beau’s house—he upgraded from the airstream but it was parked in his yard—it was nearly midnight when he woke up to soft music filtering into his room. Beau ran a hand through his hair and screwed his eyes shut for a moment before he sat up. That had to be Andi. And he felt compelled to check in on her.

Beau left his room and made his way to Andi’s, the music getting louder with each step he took. Which made him more and more concerned. 

I waited ages to see you there

I search the party of better bodies

Just to learn that you never cared

You're on your own, kid

You always have been

Just outside her door, Beau heard the faint noise of sniffling. Andi had been crying. His heart sunk in his chest. He knocked on the door. No answer. Beau pursed his lips as he turned the door handle. The sight behind it made his heart ache. 

Under the low light of Andi’s blue fairy lights was her, sobbing on the floor as she hugged her knees to her chest. Her glasses were abandoned on her bed with teardrop marks on the lenses. 

I see the great escape

So long, Daisy May

I picked the petals, he loves me not

Something different bloomed

Writing in my room

I play my songs in the parking lot

I'll run away

Beau rushed to be by her side, cradling her head as it lay on his chest. He set his chin on top of her head, rubbing her shoulder to try and soothe her. It seemed the tears rushed faster as he did. “I gotcha, I gotcha. It's okay.” He shushed softly. 

Andi clung onto Beau like a lifeline, crying into his chest and getting tears on his shirt. He didn't care. He wanted Andi to be okay. And if that meant he had to hold onto her like this then he didn't care. 

He petted her hair and pressed a kiss against her forehead. “It's alright. I'm here.” Beau resisted the urge to cry too. He had never seen Andi like this before, even when they met. “Please tell me what's wrong.” Beau insisted softly, pulling Andi away from him for a moment. Her skin felt cold. He didn't like this. 

Andi sniffled, rubbing her eyes. “I…” She wanted to. She really did, but it was hard. 

“You know me, sweetheart, I'm not gonna judge. Okay?” Beau cupped Andi’s cheek. He could sense she was hesitant. Their relationship was fresh but Andi trusted him enough with other stuff. Enough to live with him. 

A new wave of tears rolled down Andi’s cheeks. “I know.” Her voice was small. Her eyes screwed shut as a sad smile crossed her face. “God, I wish my real parents were like you.” She admitted with a harbored breath. “My dad especially. I-I don't understand what I did wrong. What I did to deserve what they did to me. Was I not enough? Was it because I was a girl? He and my brothers were fine. He-He never–” A choked sob escaped her. 

Beau frowned, pulling her back into his chest. He closed his eyes as he drew in a deep breath. 

“He never told me loved me.” Andi cried into his chest, voice muffled. “Never told me he was proud of me. I-I don't understand. He's my dad, i-isn���t he supposed to love me? That's his job.” 

Beau felt a few tears stinging his eyes as well. He couldn't imagine being that type of person. That type of father. He loved Emily so much it hurt sometimes. Andi too. To be the type of father to, quite frankly, never pay attention to his child was an alien concept to him. One that was very much real. And one that saddened Beau. 

He squeezed Andi tighter and pulled her into his lap. She was heavier than what he was used to but it didn't matter. What mattered was comforting her as much as possible. He didn't know if he could ever change her mind about her self-worth, at least, not in the moment. But this kind of touch would help. He hoped it would. 

After a while, Andi’s tears died down and Beau brushed away the hairs from her face. He even wiped some tears away. “I know I can't… just replace your dad, as unfortunate as that sounds. You had eighteen years with him. That won't just disappear. But I can try to help ease some of that pain, show you what a real parent should be like.” Beau whispered softly. “I love you as I would my own daughter. I'll be so proud of you at your concert next week, I'll clap and cheer so loud they might have to kick me out. I love you.”

Andi sniffled. The words meant so much to her and she knew Beau was telling the truth. He had a record to back it up. He never missed one of her recitals, a soccer game she had, or an event she really wanted to go to. 

Before she ever moved in, Beau was Andi’s plus one to a lot of things. A chaperone in some sense but Beau just loved seeing her smile. They went to a few markets around the city with her college friends, saw quite a few movies in his airstream, and—at the end of the day—he would always give her a warm hug and a kiss on the forehead. 

“I love you too.” Andi breathed. It was the first time she'd said it back.

Beau had a habit of slipping it behind a sentence or saying it when they said goodbye. Andi didn't mind. She liked hearing it. But she had never said it back or even said it first. Beau was okay with that. He wanted to earn it. 

And he did. 

It was bittersweet, though. He was glad but his heart still ached. All he wanted was to take all that hurt from Andi and throw it in a locked box somewhere. Maybe throw that into the depths of the ocean. But he couldn’t. And it pained him that he couldn't. Andi didn't deserve those sorry excuses of parents. And maybe she didn't deserve Beau either but he was going to try. 

Beau hugged her close, closing his eyes as he rocked her side to side. Andi wrapped her arms around Beau’s torso. Her breathing calmed as she nuzzled her head in the crook of his neck. 

It was silent for a while, her music had died down a while ago into a soft instrumental. “Sweetheart?” Beau asked softly. He had a small, but hopefully effective, idea 

“Hm?” Andi hummed. She felt a little better hence the crying stopped but there was still an emptiness in her chest.

“Do you want to sleep in my room tonight?” Beau knew it was a tactic mostly used for little kids. Where if he could squeeze her tight enough that would make everything better. But Andi was legally an adult so he wasn't completely sure.

Andi bit the inside of her lip and drew in a small breath. Her parents didn't do this when she was sad. Hell, her parents barely even noticed when she was sad. She simply nodded.

Beau lifted the covers over Andi before he got in bed next to her. She held onto Beau. He quickly did the same. 

Andi was an adult. But not really. She was a child who had never felt like she had any real comfort in her life until Beau came along. Andi wasn't even sure she could pinpoint a time she was genuinely happy in a while. Physical comfort didn't fix everything but it sure helped a lot. She didn't get that much as a child but she did now.

Beau was so affectionate that it almost made Andi cry. Small things like a touch on her shoulder as he left or a kiss on her forehead. Hell, a simple thumbs-up while she was on stage made Andi feel so warm. And so loved.

That was part of the reason this whole mess started in the first place. Andi loved Beau and wouldn't trade him for the world but a part of her wondered why her father couldn't be like him so she didn't need to have Beau in the first place. Why couldn't he be the type of father that supported his child? Who made it known that he was proud of her every day even if it could be a little embarrassing? Who hugged her every single time they met after they were apart? 

Beau rubbed Andi’s back, playing with her hair. He found that it calmed her after a while. “I can stay home tomorrow. We can watch Book of Life, make fresh brownies, and have ‘em with ice cream.” He suggested softly. 

Book of Life was her favorite movie. And warm brownies with vanilla ice cream was one of her comfort foods. She didn't eat it often. 

“Okay,” Andi mumbled, a soft smile making its way onto her lips. “I would be a sorry excuse for an older sister.” 

Beau’s eyebrows furrowed. “What makes you say that?” 

Emily and Andi knew of each other but they hadn't quite met yet since Emily still lived with Carla in Texas and she hadn't made her way up to Montana to see her father in a while. He knew adoption was off the table but he was as close to a father as Andi could have, ultimately making her family. And making her and Emily sisters. 

Andi shook her head. “Forget I said that.” Beau pursed his lips, glancing down at her. She let out a breath through her nose. “I just… I'm the youngest in my family anyway and—I dunno—I don't feel right. I guess. I'm not a role model. I'm not–”

“I think you are.” Beau cut in. He hated when Andi talked bad about herself which unfortunately happened a lot. “You have your hands in a lot of different clubs, you excel in your classes, and you fight for what's right.” Beau hugged Andi close. “We can work on it feeling right but… You're a far better role model than me.”

Andi scoffed. Beau may not have been open about everything that happened in his life but, for a middle-aged man, it was far better than any other man Andi had ever encountered before. He was affectionate with just about everyone in his life, co-workers, friends, Andi’s friends, Carla, and Emily. Maybe Beau wasn't perfect but he was already doing better than Andi’s father. 

Beau thought Andi drifted off to sleep until she said, “I'm glad you're in my life.” He could tell she was trying to starve off sleep by the sound of her voice. 

“Me too.” Beau admitted softly, an absentminded smile on his face. 

Beau thought Emily was the limit to his love. But then Andi came along and suddenly there was more love to give. There was no rationing of his heart, it only grew. And he couldn't fathom it for a while. Andi wasn't his child, not biologically, but he loved her as if she was. 

With Emily away, it was hard for Beau to function properly. That was his daughter and she was hours and hours away. Of course, it still was but it was a little easier with Andi. He thought the world of her and couldn't comprehend how she didn't think the same. 

If Beau ever did meet Andi's parents, he couldn't imagine it'd go well. He'd likely end up in a detainment cell while Andi's father ended up in the ICU.

[gingerwerk]

happy thursday/friday. heres (perhaps? the first bit i've ever posted on here?) an excerpt from my upcoming hbo war vietnam era/post vietnam au series

i literally laid down on my bed and whipped this up in less than an hour and i fuck with it and im in a giving mood so please enjoy :)

_-_-_-_-_-_

Cradling the cool, hard plastic of the payphone in between his cheek and his shoulder, Eugene pulled a few loose coins from his pants pocket and slipped them into the lot on the machine. It was getting late here but over on the West coast it was just around dinner time and hopefully he could catch him at home. He easily recalled the number and after only two rings, the line clicked.

“Hello?” the familiar, soft voice came through the phone line. 

“Jay, it’s Eugene,” he said, as a faint smile naturally appeared on his face.

“Gene, hey!” Jay responded, voice sounding more excited now that he knew it wasn’t some prank call or a wrong number. “What’s going on?”

What was going on? Eugene couldn’t help but wonder as he glanced around at the brightly lit up truck stop, everything slightly out of focus due to the combination of wear and dirt on the phone booth glass. 

He glanced at the gas station parking lot and still saw Snafu’s rusting blue pickup with the giant chrome Airstream attached. He didn’t seriously think Snafu would leave him in the middle of nowhere but Eugene couldn’t help the small bout of anxiety he got when he went too long without seeing Snafu or his- their -temporary home. All of a sudden he felt like he might as well have been five instead of twenty-five and he just lost sight of his mother at the market in town.  

“So, funny story…” Eugene started slowly, still processing how he would explain the situation he had willingly walked himself into.

“An actually funny story or funny like you need bail money- I assume not for you though, because this call isn’t coming from a police station,” Jay asked easily, tone even like he really wouldn’t have minded either scenario.

“Funny like Snafu showed up at my door Wednesday night,” Eugene stated, deciding to simply bite the bullet. “And I am calling you from a payphone outside Dayton, Ohio because he asked me to go on a road trip to the Grand Canyon and for some crazy reason I said yes. And I figured someone besides Bill and Faye should know so, yeah. That’s what’s going on with me right now.” 

For a long moment all Eugene could hear was the slight crackle of Jay’s breath as he slowly processed the news. While he waited, Eugene glanced over his shoulder again; still no sign of Snafu but the truck was still there. 

“That is a pretty funny situation you’ve got yourself in,” Jay decided after a long moment. “Now, I know you said you agreed to go with him but did you? Is this a willing trip or are you actually kidnapped and you’re calling for help. Cough twice if you’re in danger.”

“Jay,” Eugene sighed exasperatedly. “I’m really okay. I promise.”

“You sure?” his friend asked, the dry, sarcastic tone from before gone now and in its place was something more genuine, more concerned. 

Eugene frowned as he fidgeted with the phone cord for a moment. He had wanted to call Jay for several reasons. Firstly, he and Jay regularly communicated, via letters and occasional phone calls, if they wanted to swing the long-distance fee for something that couldn’t be held up by the U.S. postal service, and Eugene didn’t want to be thought of as rude if a letter went unanswered for longer than usual. He also wanted to let Jay know that Snafu was not only alive but seemingly okay, as he was one of approximately four people who would like to know that information. Lastly, however, Eugene wanted to call Jay because he was the only person alive who knew what the fuck had actually gone on between the two of them while in Vietnam. Perhaps Eugene should have called him back when he was weighing the pros and cons of traveling across the country with the man and none of his friends seemed to understand why he was so hesitant to go along with the man who, to the rest of the world, was just one of his closest war buddies, but that ship had long since sailed. At the very least he could let someone know his situation in case things blew up later and he needed an ally to help pick up his pieces. 

“I’m sure,” Eugene said definitively. “I promise.”

As Eugene picked his head up, he watched as Snafu exited the gas station with a mildly irritated expression on his face and a paper bag in hand. He watched for a long moment as Snafu’s eyes scanned the parking lot before they finally landed on him in the booth. Ignoring how his stomach lurched in a not-totally-uncomfortable way as Snafu put him in his sights, Eugene simply raised his hand to let the man know he saw him before Eugene turned his back to him so he could finish his phone call.

“If you’re sure, Eugene,” Jay decided quietly. “You say you’re gonna see the Canyon?”

“Yeah, finally,” Eugene huffed with a small, sad smile.

“Well, make sure you take some good pictures to send to me,” Jay responded, the slightly stilted tone in his voice let Eugene know Jay remembered what the Grand Canyon really meant to him.

“I will. Faye let me borrow her camera.” 

Faye’s beloved Kodak was currently nestled away in a storage compartment in Snafu’s Airstream. Eugene didn’t want to risk damaging or even losing such a beloved possession on the trip but Faye would not hear of it. She not only wanted pictures of the Grand Canyon but also told Eugene to take as many pictures as he could to remember the trip. 

“Hey, so, I gotta run, Snafu’s looking at me all pissed from across the parking lot and I think he’s beginning to scare off the patrons of the gas station,” Eugene said as he looked over his shoulder and watched for a moment as Snafu lit himself a new cigarette before he began to shuffle back to his truck. 

“Thanks for calling and letting me know,” Jay said. “Feel free to call again when you can or if Snafu wants, you can give him my information. It’d be nice to hear from him.”

“Be careful, he might show up at your door next and ask to go on a trip to Canada.”

“Can’t say I’ve been up north before so I might go if he asked,” Jay said easily. “But I’ll let you go.”

“Bye, Jay.”

“Bye, Gene.”

Hanging the phone back on its cradle, Eugene pushed out of the slightly claustrophobic booth and quickly crossed the parking lot until he reached where Snafu was casually leaning against the side of his truck, his cigarette half smoked as it hung out of the corner of his mouth. Once Snafu’s pale eyes landed on him, he pushed off the side of the truck and climbed back into the cab of his truck.

“Who’d you call?” he grunted as Eugene climbed into the passengers side of the cab.

“Jay,” Eugene answered, deciding to go for the truth.

“De L’Eau?” Snafu asked, a hint of surprise in his voice as he started up the truck and slowly pulled out of the parking lot, the large airstream towed behind them making it a bigger production than usual..

“You know any other Jays?”

“Damn, there anybody from over there who you haven’t kept in touch with?” 

“Yeah, you,” Eugene responded shortly as he continued to stare straight ahead through the windshield. 

Instead responding, Snafu simply flipped on the car radio and let the twangy tones of Creedence Clearwater Revival fill up the space of the cab as they drove down the dark, semi-deserted road in search of somewhere out of the way to park the Airstream for the night.

[dr-lizortecho]

my secret santa gift for @greentealycheejelly, a malexa fic that examines an alternate start to season two that gives them more space to breathe before falling together, with examinations of a lot of the group dynamics and echo in the background! I hope you enjoy it and that the angst isn’t too heavy handed, but I listened to a lot of My Chemical Romance while writing and plotting and I’m sure that shows (in the title at the very least)!

The last few days had been rough, everyone’s emotions strung high from a grief larger than one man’s death and ready to be cracked wide open at any second. From the desperate grasps of one of Alex’s best friends to not get left behind again, to actually have her second chance at the family that had been ripped out of her grasp since she was old enough to hold something in her tiny fist. To the puffy eyes and dark circles of his ex-lover as he forwent sleep and food, spent hours huddled in a dark corner of a bar drinking himself numb or in his bunker hunched over his console angrily muttering under his breath.

Alex knew both of their fragile states- had witnessed them up close and personal. From Liz asking him to steal a corpse to Michael slurring his words as he helped him climb onto the wafer thin mattress in his airstream. Had shown up to install the grotto’s new security system to find Michael glaring at the shimmering console like it had killed Max itself, a beer bottle held tight in one hand and tear tracks glistening on his face. Alex hadn’t asked about the fresh tattoo his rolled up sleeves showcased or the book that had been thrown across the room, brand new by the looks of it, not even a crack in the spine.

Now that grief had drawn back. Leaving a deceptive calm over their group's unresolved emotions. Like the shoreline before a storm.

Both Liz and Michael seem bare and exposed in their exhausted states. The ever present crease on Michael’s brow is smoothed over, pure exhaustion in the slump of his shoulders as he sleeps in an armchair pulled up to the bed. Liz is standing at Max’s other side chewing on her bottom lip, the skin broken from her constant worrying, clipboard held in her hands. As if staring at the data will make their chances less slim, would make the muscle in Max’s chest stronger.

Both not three paces from where Alex had left them the night before.

“Long night?” Alex asks, his voice is still rough from disuse. He was tired himself, barely getting any sleep for the last few days, since he’d stood in the viewing room and watched Max flatline. Had seen Michael collapse against the wall and slide to the ground. Heard Liz’s broken sobs ringing through the high pitched scream of machinery.

For a moment Alex had tasted despair, felt completely powerless to save his loved ones again. A steady uptick to the list of people he couldn’t ever quite save.

He’d wanted to laugh, a dark cruel kind of sound, the kind he used to make around a mouthful of blood or when his ears were ringing so bad he thought he might never hear right again. But he had Maria, her soft warm hand had slipped into his and grounded him. Softened him. Kept his cool facade from breaking as he’d stared a nightmare in the face.

“Mikey just feel asleep,” Liz says, voice soft. Not defeated yet, but weak. Weary of joy it seemed.

Alex nods curtly, hand tightening around the coffee tray he had brought in. Three, just incase. “He needs it.”

Liz nods, concern flashing in her eyes as she gives Michael a glance. “After the days spent hunched over building Max a pacemaker-“ her face looks sour at that thought “-he has to be exhausted.”

read on ao3

[bullet-prooflove]

The Maybe Girl: Colton Shaw x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @inlovewithcharmers @mckinleysbones @rex-the-dino @ahoodgirl

Companion piece to:

Stay (NSFW) - Colter can never ask for you to stay.

Sometimes Colter dreams about you. His hands running through your hair, his lips chasing all over your skin as your head tips back and you say his name. Those are the mornings he wakes up with a hard on he has to take care of in the shower because those dreams, they’re memories, ones that are scored upon the surface of his heart. He jerks off to the image of your mouth encircling him, that sinful look in your eyes when you know he’s close, so close he’s about to…

There’s the other dreams, of course, the ones he would never reveal to a living soul. A white dress and a cabin in the woods, a couple of dogs. You’re both too fucked up for a traditional relationship and children aren’t on the cards but it doesn’t stop Colter from hoping that maybe one day you’ll both settle down together. He can’t see it happening anytime soon but eventually, when you both get your shit together.

“I’m your Maybe Girl…” You had said one night when you were laying on your stomach in his bed. He was doodling patterns across your skin, connecting the constellations of scars when you’d finally spoke.

“Maybe Girl?” He’d questioned, his eyebrows furrowing as he tilted his head to read your features.

“You know…” You say, meeting his eyes. “The one you tell yourself you may have a future with so you can avoid any other commitments.”

“That’s not…” He trails off, pursing his lips together when you give him that knowing look. “I don’t think of it as a maybe.”

For Colter it’s an inevitability. He’s been in love with you for years at this point and he’s confident you’re in love with him. It’s why you tell him your secrets by the light of the campfire, the things you’ve never told anybody else

“Oh.” You say, looking troubled. “Colter, I can’t give you anything more than this…”

“I know.” He’d whispered, his thumb tracing lightly over the apple of your cheek. “But maybe someday you can.”

It’s the wrong thing to say, he knows that now. Sometimes he gets so caught up in you he can’t help but express his feelings but you, you’re like a skittish animal. You need to be approached carefully, with caution because for you commitment is entrapment.

It’s marrying a man your father chooses for you at the age of fifteen, one three times your age and an elder of the cult he joined because your mother died and he can’t cope with his teenage daughter. It’s hunting in the woods for survival to feed children that aren’t your own, ones that you can never have because that first time was so violent that  it ruined you.

You don’t even bother to slip out when he’s asleep that night. You just get up, gather up your clothes and go.

He doesn’t follow because he understands that urge to escape, especially when you feel overwhelmed. That’s why his father called him The Restless One.

When you appear outside his airstream tonight he doesn’t expect it. It’s been six months since he last laid eyes on you and he’s parked in the middle of nowhere, waiting for the next reward to come through.

“I can’t be your Maybe Girl,” is the first thing you say to him, the rain pouring down as you stand outside, soaking wet.

“How about you be the girl that comes in to get dry?” He suggests as he steps out of the way revealing the warm glow of the airstream. “The girl I make tea for because there’s a chill in the air and I’m terrified of her catching hypothermia.”

You step inside, leaving a trail of wet clothes that leads directly to his shower. He sighs as he picks them up, hanging them up to dry over the cupboard doors in the kitchen before he goes through his slender wardrobe and picks out the shirt you like to wear. It’s a soft faded grey, one he’s had since long before he bought airstream. The only reason he hasn’t thrown it out yet is because he knows how much you like it.

“Are you going to join me?” You call from the bathroom and he envisions you naked underneath the water, the droplets trailing over your skin. He lays the t-shirt down on the bed and he wonders if you’ll stay tonight or if he’ll find that it neatly folded on the table were he eats as if it had never been worn.

“Yea.” He calls through, pulling off his own shirt and tossing it in the hamper. “Just give me a sec and I’ll be right there.”

Love Colter? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[pastelwitchling]

I love your last one shot ❤️ Could you write how Alex comforts Michael after they hear homophonic remarks?

***

              Michael knew how his life worked. After years of being shunted from one foster family to the next, standing on the receiving end of mean highschoolers who mocked everything about him from his clothes to where he slept, and sneered at by every bartender and bar straggler alike, he’d tended to expect the ugly out of humanity.

              Only one man had ever really been his exception to that. With his siblings, though he loved them, Michael could never help but feel that disconnect. That line that told him he wasn’t good enough. But Alex . . . oh, Alex. With Alex, he feared he wouldn’t be good enough, but he’d hoped. Part of him knew that if he got the chance, really got the chance to keep this beautiful, strong, perfectly broken man, he’d love him right. He’d protect him and care for him and love him the way he deserved to be protected and cared for and loved.

              Then he’d married Alex, and his world had changed forever. He’d stopped expecting the worst, the ugly. With someone as wonderful as Alex at his side, loving him right back, how could anything or anyone ever be that bad?

              At least, that was until one random Friday night, when Michael caught Alex around the waist as they were leaving the Wild Pony. The night had gone perfectly; after a long day at work, both of them ready to head home for a long weekend in bed, Michael had suggested they go out for a meal and Alex had suggested they go out for drinks, and there they were, ending their night with bellies full and bodies tired and giggling into each other’s mouths.

              Some moments with Alex felt a little surreal. Like if Michael held on too tightly or kissed him a little too much or got a little too giddy, he would wake up back in his airstream and find his wedding ring gone. This whole life would’ve been nothing but a dream. He hugged Alex tighter from behind.

              Alex laughed as he attempted to make his way to the truck—their truck now, as Michael had had no interest in keeping anything to himself after they’d gotten married. “You’re such a clingy drunk.”

              Michael groaned in protest against Alex’s shoulder, his nose and cheeks red, his eyes half-lidded, his smile wide and sleepy. He was so in love he felt like his chest was about to burst. He hugged Alex tighter.

              “Let me go, you freak!”

              “Never,” Michael murmured, for while a comment like that two years ago would’ve scared him into making some snarky remark he didn’t mean, all he could hear now was Alex’s laughter behind his words, Alex gripping Michael’s forearm securely as if more afraid that Michael would trip than for himself, Alex blushing every time Michael hooked his chin over his shoulder and kissed his neck.

              “Hey,” he murmured.

              “Hm?”

              He nuzzled Alex’s neck. “Hey.”

              Alex giggled. “Hi.”

              Michael’s smile widened at the sound. “Hey, beautiful.”

              “Yes, my pretty cowboy?”

              Michael’s eyes fluttered shut. “I’m your pretty cowboy.”

              Alex finally managed to reach their truck with Michael hanging off his shoulders. “You are.”

              “I love you so much.”

              “I love you more.”

              “Not a chance, Private.”

              “Gross,” a voice said, and Michael felt Alex tense before he opened his eyes and found the source. Some guy and his girlfriend were heading out of the Wild Pony, lip curled in disgust as he unmistakably glanced at Michael and Alex.

              Michael straightened. “The hell?” he started, but Alex caught his arm.

              “Just leave it,” Alex murmured.

              The guy turned and said something to his girlfriend and she giggled behind her hand. The guy followed with a shudder and they both laughed. Michael narrowed his eyes.

              “Guerin,” Alex warned him, “you’re making the ground shake.”

              “I know,” Michael said, working his jaw. “I just want to scare them a little.”

              “Hey,” Alex turned to face him, taking Michael’s face in his hands, “Michael, stop it, you’ll hurt them.”

              “They don’t deserve your protection, baby,” Michael said coldly, satisfaction blooming at the couple’s alarmed yelps as they stumbled.

              “I don’t give a crap about them,” Alex said fiercely. “I’m trying to protect you.”

              Michael blinked, and his eyes focused to find Alex’s smile and bright eyes gone, replaced now with anger and concern.

              “Look. At. Me.” Michael swallowed as Alex slowly cupped his jaw, his thumb carefully tracing Michael’s cheekbone. “I will never let anyone hurt you again, understand? It’s you and me, and no one and nothing else matters. It’s just you and me, Guerin. So stop it, and breathe.”

              “Alex, I don’t want anyone saying crap about us—”

              “If all of Roswell told you the worst about me and tried to force you to leave me,” Alex cut him off, “what would you do?”

              Without needing to think about it, Michael grabbed his waist possessively and said, “I’d burn the world down before I let anyone separate us.”

              “I know,” Alex scoffed, and then more softly, “I know you would. Nothing anybody says can touch us, okay? Nothing.” He pressed his lips to Michael’s, instantly shattering his anger to pieces. “And some asshole will sure as hell never be worth exposing aliens in Roswell.”

              Michael heaved a sigh, shutting his eyes and shaking his head. “You know, having someone worry this much about me is kind of inconvenient sometimes.”

              Alex scoffed, wrapping his arms around Michael’s shoulders. “Deal with it.”

              Michael pressed their foreheads together. “Happily. Forever. Just don’t let go.”

              “Yeah, yeah, I know,” Alex sighed. “Clingy drunk.”

              “The drinks have nothing to do with it,” Michael murmured. “Not even a little, Private.”

***

Happy malex Monday ❤️

[hometoursandotherstuff]

This cool artist's home in Houston, Texas is amazing. It has the artist's house/studio, guest quarters, a vintage Airstream, and 4 rental studios. The house has 3bd 3ba and the entire property is priced at $925K. It's so unique, it already has a pending sale. You gotta see this.

We will begin in the house and studio.

This is so nice, it can be adapted for any kind of business.

Shower room in the studio.

It would be nice if they left that cool art, but I doubt they will.

Look at this sweet little pace at the top of the stairs. It's so narrow, though- one misstep and you could fall to the floor below.

The kitchen's kind of DIY, but it's artsy.

Nice cozy modern living room.

The bedroom is cool, too. I guess they'd leave the fan, but I like that hanging metal shelf unit.

Vintage rustic bath is cute.

Interior of one of the rental studio units.

Outdoor area for the residence.

Deck in front of the rental studios.

I wish they would've shown the interior of the Airstream.

The property, surrounded by trees, is 0.5 acre.

[justourimaginations]

A Welcome Diversion (Colter Shaw x Fe!Reader)

This is PART 2 (NSFW). They can be read independently from one another, but you can check out PART 1 for the full story.

PART 2

Summary: You coincidentally meet Colter at a fundraising event and help him gather some evidence to find a missing girl. You meet up at the Airstream afterwards, and it gets steamy.

Trigger Warnings: protected sex, oral female receiving, slight swearing

2.2k words

-----------------

"So, this is goodbye?” you asked Colter trying to read his face.

“Well, um… I want to see Jessie home” he replied.

“And collect your reward?”

“It’s not about that.”

“Right” you nodded, not ready to say goodbye to him.

“I’ll tell you what, I’ll make sure Jessie gets home and then meet you at your place in an hour” he suggested, a cocky sparkle in his eyes.

“Oh, no” you laughed, causing a look of confusion on Colters face, his smile fading. “I’m staying with my parents so, no. But… send me the location of your trailer and I’ll meet you there in an hour.”

Colter scratched his beard and nodded, the smile returning to his lips. “Deal.”

An hour later you pulled up to a silver Airstream trailer on a dirt road outside of the city. It was almost 2am. You had never seen it before. The last time you met Colter, which was also the first time, you had hooked up in your hotel room. His ridiculously big GMC Sierra was parked in front of it, confirming you were in the right place.

You parked your car behind it and walked up to the Airstream. Colter had already seen you pull up and opened the door for you. His face lit up when he saw the smile on your face.

“Come in” he smirked, holding his hand out; he was still wearing the suit, but his tie was loosely hanging from his collar. You climbed up the steps and looked around. The inside of the trailer was cozier than you had expected. Colter closed the door behind you.

“Do you want a beer?” he asked taking a sip from his own.

“Sure” you replied still inspecting the trailer. It was warm inside and it smelled like Colter. A scent of wood, herbs, vanilla and citrus wrapped around you, making you feel at ease. You took the beer Colter was holding and leaned against the table. Colter sat down on his bed.

“How did it go?” you asked regarding the reunion of the family Colter had worked for.

“Great, I think she’s gonna be okay” he nodded.

“You’re doing a good thing.” You praised him. “Helping all these people.”

“I like to think so” he replied.

“I know so.”

Colter couldn’t help but smile at your approval. He felt comfortable with you.

“You know, I was hoping you’d still be wearing this dress” he smirked sizing you up, his eyes following the way the dress hugged your body. You hadn’t changed out of it, partly because you had seen his look at you in it before. You had exchanged your heels for sneakers, and it didn’t quite add up to the whole look, but you’d be out of the shoes and the dress soon anyways.

“Can’t really blame your professor for staring” he continued to flatter you.

“Except it’s not really appropriate to look at a former student like that” you huffed taking a sip of the beer. Colter got up walking towards you, putting his beer down on the counter.

“Thanks again for saving my life” he said with a breathy voice when he was only a few inches away from you. You took a shaky breath.

“You’re welcome” you almost whispered, watching Colters face closely. His eyes were looking back and forth between your eyes and lips. Your heartbeat fastened. He closed the distance between you, leaning in but not all the way as if to wait for you to close the final distance to give him permission to kiss you. You did, and your lips met his softly. He tasted like beer and mint. One of his hands found its way to the small of your back, pulling you closer to his body. The warmth of him immediately wrapped around you. His other hand took your beer bottle from you and set it down on the table behind you. Your hand once again found its way to the back of his neck, just like it did in the professor’s office. The other hand rested on his biceps, feeling the muscles flex under the fabric.

He pulled away his breath heavy. His lips wandered to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses. You hummed in pleasure, your hand buried in his hair.

“I’ve been thinking about getting you out of this dress, the moment I saw you tonight” Colter whispered, his pupils dilated.

“What are you waiting for?” you asked looking up at him, your face flushed. His eyes darkened with desire and his lips crashed with yours, hungrier this time. You pushed the suit jacket from his broad shoulders and pushed him backwards towards the bed. He helped you with unbuttoning his shirt and pulled away for a moment to take it off, giving you a second to take in his bare muscular chest, watching his muscles flex, as he swirled you around.

You drew air in sharply as his hot breath met the delicate skin of your neck, and you tilted your head to give him better access as he lightly sucked on your skin. He slowly unzipped your dress and unclasped your bra. He slid your dress and bra straps over your shoulders, exposing your chest. Colter continued to place kisses on your neck and shoulders. One of your hands reached up to his head, your nails scraping over his scalp. He cupped your boobs with both hands lightly circling your nipple with his thumb. You turned back around in his embrace, stepping out of your dress and shoes, pushing him to sit down at the foot of the bed. He watched you climb on top of him, straddling his lap in nothing but a black lace thong. His hands ran up your spine, leaving goosebumps. He buried one of them in your hair, which had fully resolved from the bun that had been there earlier and pulled your face to his to reconnect your lips. You slowly started grinding your hips on top of his and could already feel his boner against you. A low moan escaped his throat, amplifying the throbbing in your pussy. Scooting back a little you unbuttoned Colters pants, but he stopped your hands. He wanted to lead this time, he wanted to make you feel good with him. He led both your arms back around his neck for you to hold on and with a swift movement, his strong arms around your waist, flipped you on your back, him now leaning over you. You breathed shakily and moaned a little as his mouth trailed down to your chest. He stopped at your nipple and sucked on it, his tongue circling. With his hand he stroked over the other one. He slowly moved further down your stomach, his breath causing goosebumps. He kneeled on the ground at the foot of the bed pulling your core closer to him. He placed a kiss on your pantie covered clit with a low hum, before pulling it down your legs, kissing the inside of your thighs.

You moaned again, making Colter smile.

“Keep making that noise” he hummed. He placed himself in between your legs, placing your legs over his shoulders and his hands firmly on your hips. You drew in a sharp breath as his mouth met the sensitive skin of your clit and he started sucking on it. First gently, then massaging it with his tongue sending waves of pleasure to your core.

“F*ck” you moaned, throwing your head back and burying one of your hands in his hair, the other one gripping the sheet. Colter replied with another low hum and the vibration spread through you. He slipped one finger inside of you easily. It turned him on even further feeling how wet you were for him and added another finger stroking your walls, that clenched around him. Your legs trembled, and you lifted your hips, begging for more. He quickened the pace in which he moved his fingers in and out of you, his tongue running through your folds hungrily. You breathed heavily getting closer to your climax. Colter had to pull himself together to not start touching himself to your pleasure. He wanted to make you cum first before allowing himself to feel the pleasure of f*cking you to a second orgasm. Your moaning intensified.

“Don’t stop” you breathed. He wasn’t planning to anyway and kept going until he felt you clench and pulse around his fingers. Your fingernails scraped over his scalp, lightly pulling on his hair. The pressure in your core came to a peak, and Colter looked up at you, throwing your head back and moans crossing your lips. He pulled out his fingers as you had come down and finally took off his pants. Your eyes followed his every move and wandered from his lust filled eyes to his muscular chest and abs and down to his dick.

You scooted away from the edge of the bed as Colter crawled over you in between your spread legs. You reached down to his dick pumping up and down a few times as his lips crashed on yours. He moaned into the kiss, biting your lip as he pulled away heavily breathing. He reached over to his nightstand and pulled out a condom from the drawer.

“Let me” you whispered, taking it from him. While you fumbled with the packaging his lips came back to working the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving little marks. You reached between your legs, pumping his cock a few times before rolling down the condom. He groaned in your neck and slipped his cock through your wet folds a few times before guiding it to your entrance. He lifted his head looking into your eyes, his pupils dilated, cheeks flushed and breath heavy. You met his gaze with a soft nod.

He slowly pushed inside you and locked your lips again, drowning your moan. He gave you a moment to adjust to his size, rubbing your already sensitive clit in the meantime. You pressed your hips into his, signalling him that it was okay to move, and he didn’t loose a second but rather started thrusting into you. At first slow and steady but quickly picking up the pace as he grew closer to his own orgasm burying his face in the crook of your neck, whispering curses into your ear.

“Colter” you panted making him pause and looking at you, breathing heavily.

“Lay down” you commanded nodding at the space beside you. He smirked, following your order. You straddled his lap and lowered yourself on him. Colters hands dug into your hips. You started moving on top of him, throwing your head back in pleasure, feeling his dick pulsate inside you hitting your G-spot. He groaned in pleasure moving his hips with yours. Your nails dug into his chest as you quickened the pace to bring yourself and him closer to your climaxes. It didn’t take long to send both of you over the edge. Feeling your walls clenching around his dick and seeing your face in pleasure caused Colter to not being able to hold it in any longer. You could feel his dick twitch inside you and looked down at him, his eyes closed as he tried to steady his breath. His hands were still holding onto your thighs, steadying them as they trembled from your orgasm. You leaned over him planting a soft kiss on his lips, which he returned with a smile.

He opened his eyes as you pulled away and sat up, you still on top of him. You climbed off him, falling back in the sheets. That was even better than the first time. He got up, cleaned himself up and gave you a towel to do the same. You wiped away your own wetness.

“I’m glad you came over” Colter smirked leaning down to you his face only inches from yours.

“Yeah, me too” you replied once again connecting your lips for a soft sensual kiss. He pulled away with a smile, grabbing his beer from the counter and finishing it in one gulp.

“Can you grab me my phone from my purse?” you asked him. You ran your hands through your hair and pulled the blanket over your naked body, now that Colter wasn’t close to you anymore it had gotten colder. He saw you covering up and pouted walking over to you, handing you your phone. You checked if you had any messages, you didn’t but then again it was just past 3am. Colter lied down beside you, crawling under the blanket with you, checking his own phone on the nightstand for the time. He held out his arm for you to scoot closer. You put your phone aside and propped your head up on your hand.

“You know, if I keep helping you with doing your job, you’ll have to start sharing the reward with me” you smirked running your fingers over his chest in little patterns.

“Oh, and I thought I just made us even” Colter replied huskily.

“Oh no, that was for me saving your life, for getting you the information to find Jessie, you still owe me” you elaborated, and Colter left out a raspy laugh.

“I’ll treat you to dinner next time” he said absently stroking your lower back with his fingers.

“I might just take you up on that” you pressed your lips on his, feeling him breath out through his nose and melting into the kiss. Colter woke up the next morning, feeling the bed empty next to him. You had left before he could wake up. His heart dropped a little. Usually, he was the one to leave.