#anyway they were described almost like fancy dressing gowns so this is what i imagined kinda lmao

[lesovyart]

So how about those Elderling robes huh

[consultingsister-aa]

five times kissed / bash ( any verse )

this meme for: @theasteriae​ verse: happy verse

I. 

Celia has never seriously dated before. There were boys but they had little to no interest in getting to know her. They just wanted to fuck her. People were always saying she was too pretty for her own good and she was starting to think that was true. 

Only Basher Moran didn’t seem that bothered about how pretty she was. Although she assumed, that was what drew him to her in the first place. It was silly and unrealistic to say otherwise and she certainly fancied him from the moment she saw him. It had nothing to do with her laugh and everything to do with his jawline. It wasn’t true anymore now. 

It had been one of the best summers of her life. She could hardly believe she had been tempted to turn Alex down, to return to Surrey, alone and melancholy. Sherlock has said he would come up but would have likely cancelled last minute. Cee has never spent so much time with people apart from at school and it took a while to get used to all the sibling and cousin dynamics. It was like something from one of her books; The Chronicles of Narnia or The Famous Five. They all had inside jokes and pet names and moved around each other like a choreographed dance. She knew her bothers well enough but she rarely had to deal with a cramped kitchen and sharing bedrooms. They knew each other differently than the Morans. 

It had been a fantasy of hers to live like this. When she was young and it was just her alone in that big house, she would daydream about having lots of brother’s and sister’s and cousins to play with. Adventures at the beach; caves and pirate treasure. She imagined herself into their childhood and al of a sudden, felt a lump in her throat. It was more than jealousy; it was something like grief. Greif for that lonely little girl who would always aways be alone. 

“What’s up?” Bash interrupted her thoughts. Clearly, her state of mind has shown on her face. 

“Nothing. I’m just a little sad to go back to school after all this.” 

Bash sighed knowingly, turning back to look out over the water. Even though she had come with Alex, Celia was spending more and more time on the beach with Bash. They sat in the dunes, a blanket around their shoulders, watching the sun fall into the freezing water. Even in the height of summer, the water was freezing. “Yeah, I’ll miss the beach,” he agrees. 

She turns to look at his profile, shoulder bumping into his. “I’ll miss you.” She didn’t quite mean you individually, she meant you as a family, but she was glad he took it that way. 

He turned to look at her and then leant in to kiss her for the first time, both their heads moving in the opposite way so they didn’t bump noses, as if it has been rehearsed. Cee had never been kissed like that before but it was almost exactly how the songs and books and poems described it. It was like seeing fireworks. But perhaps more wonderfully, when he kissed her like that, she didn’t feel so alone. 

II.

It had felt like a long time since that first kiss, although it has only been seven years. In the prospect of a lifetime together, that was short. But she couldn’t help but think about that moment, as she stood at the waters edge, champagne glass in hand, breathing deeply in the cool evening air. Behind her, her specially built carnival glows, reflecting in the dark waters. 

She’s changed from her wedding dress into a short ballet style tutu skirt, which stopped a little north of where her father, new husband and aunt-in-law might have liked. Long legs end in bare feet and she lets the water lap up against her ankles. 

“Hey, Mrs Moran-- there about twenty million people wanting to see you back there.” 

She turns back with a smile, just in time to see Bash - messy hair, jacket long gone, shirt sleeved rolled up - before he wraps his arms around her from behind, pressing a kiss into the side of her face. “There are not twenty million people, you’re such a drama queen.” 

He laughs. She does too. Then they relax into silence and both watch the waves. After a moment, Cee begins to cry. 

“Hey, hey,” Bash moves to turn her round, concern on his face. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing-- I’m just-- I’m just so--” 

“What? Oh god, you’re regretting it already. I said, if you weren’t ready, that we could--”

“Happy!” Cee interupsts him with laugh, “Bash, I’m happy. I am so happy.” 

He looks so relived, it only makes Cee laugh again; more happy tears spilling onto her cheeks. He pulls her close, a deep kiss, just them. Maybe the big party was too much. She was danced out; talked out; laughed out. She just wanted this. And the best bit was, she had it, and she had it forever. 

III. 

“Twins!?” 

“Are you fucking serious?” 

Cee can tell the nurse wasn’t expecintg that reaction from her, but she couldn’t care less. One more baby was enough of a shock, but two more? She looks over at Bash, who’s grinning and offers a look as if to say ‘what are you smiling about, you bastard’. 

“I am very serious Mrs Moran. You can see one heart beat here,” the nurse points to a black mass on the monitor, “and the second,” another black mass, “here.” Cee will just have to take her word for it. She got very upset when she couldn’t see what the nurse was talking about with Beua but she’s over it this time. She’s already over being pregnant this time and now it’s just going to be two times worse? Well, it was always two times worse but now she knows about it. “I’ll leave this up and give you a minute,” the nurse smiles at the parents and leaves the room, closing the door behind her. Cee’s face is full of panic. 

“What?” Bash moves into the side of the hospital bed, taking Cee’s hand in his. 

“What do you mean, what? Bash-- I can’t handle three kids. You’re away all the time. I didn’t even know if I could do two but three babies? I’m out of my depth here.” 

“So what are you saying? You want to-- not--” 

“No, no, I’m just-- it’s a lot, Bash. Twins. That’s twice the baby!” 

“And you,” now he moves his hands to her face. Eye contact is key with Cecelia, pyshical contact and looking her in the eye. “Are twice the woman. You can do this. You can do anything.” 

Cee takes a calming breath and nods. “I love you,” she manages and leans forward to kiss him softly, just in time for the door to reopen. They never get a moments peace anymore. 

IV. 

Celia closes the bedroom door very gentle behind her. It feels like having babies again; a house full she doesn’t want to wake up. Bash just smiles up at her, taking off his glasses. He’s only been in the job four hours and he’s already bringing work to bed. 

“Do they love their new rooms?” 

Celia pulls an apoletic look, pulling off her dressing gown. “Immy says she wants to go home.” 

“To Suffolk?” 

“Yeah.”

“She’s knows she’s now living in Downing Street, right?” 

“You know that a ten year old could not care less, right?” 

Bash just laughs, laying his arm out over her pillows so she can snuggle in next to him. For a moment, they just sit there, head leant back against the headboard, drinking it all in. They had been working towards this for over ten years and now? The real work was just beginning. She can already feel her eyes getting heavy. “You’re happy here though, right?”

“Mm,” she hums. She’s not sure yet. Suffolk is her home, more than she ever though it would be. It was where the boys all grew up, their childhood rooms even though they were all grown up and out the house now. It was where Immy was born, where they played capture the flag and five aside football when the rest of the family came over. 

Downing Street might be a symbol of how far they had come, but it wasn’t home and she doubted, no matter how long they were here, it would ever feel like one. She already had plans to nip back to Suffolk the first weekend they could. “Yeah, this is what we’ve wanted for so long. We just need to settle into it.” Cee looks up to Bash, smiling at the fine lines already marking his face. But his eyes look the same as they did when he kissed her for that very first time on the beach. He’s so good to her, always. 

She kisses him, the sort of kiss they haven’t had in a while. Five kids, two demanding careers and a whole country wanting his attention tends to lead to pecks of affection and quickies whenever they can get it. But they have a moment now. “I’m so proud of you,” she whispers, lips still touching his. “I’m so proud of us. For everything, not just this job. I love you.” 

V. 

They had been in rooms like this so many times over the years. The bad lighting, the round tables, the stage. Only, rarely for her. She had, happily, she wanted to add, taken a back seat for most of her life. Her skillset was better suited to a life of support and planning; organising and committing herself to the task at hand. Whether they was her husband’s career, or her children’s lives. How could she call them children now though? Immy sat next to her, one arm lazily draped across her own baby bump, the other reached out to hold her mother’s hand. 

All heads had turned to the stage as a larger man in a ill-fitting suit took to the podium. His welcome speech was short and sweet, something Cee appreciated. She had told anyone who she could that she wasn’t bothered; even to be nominated was an honour but she was bothered. Her stomach swam with anxiety in a way it hadn’t done in years. 

“And the winner, of the twenty-forty-eight Booker Prize goes to... Cecelia Holmes.”

The table around her, well dressed and well mannered, rose with celebration; clapping together hands together and whooping. Immy kissed her cheek, Beua was quick to follow but she wouldn't get around them all. Although, she couldn’t forget one of them. 

Bash had sat across from her for most of the night. Although it was her night, it was also the first time in months all the family had been together in one place. Well, not all the family. You could fill the whole room with all the family. They were on stand-by, waiting for the news. They could have a party anyway, Immy had said, but they’d take down the banners if she didn’t win, though she suspected they wouldn’t have to. That had made Cee laugh. All the family tonight mean the six kids. Beua, Cass, Edmund, Perc, Immy and Hugo, ranging in ages from early forties, to twenty-two. Her children. Fuck the books, these wonderful, clever, funny, thoughtful kids were the best thing she had ever done with her life. And it was all thanks to Bash. They had caught each others eyes all night and it had made her feel young again. Like when they used to catch each other eyes over the dinner table at Nettle Cottage. 

She was aware there was a room full of people waiting for her but she was hungry for the kiss. Her hands reached for his face and she wasn’t that surprised to see a tear in his eye. “I’m so proud of you,” Bash managed, although years of shouting in Westminster had left his voice a little hoarse. She kissed him again, although she could feel the ever secible and dependable Beua trying to take her arm towards the stage. 

“Of us,” Cee corrected him, before allowing her oldest son to resort her to the edge of the stage. She hadn’t prepared a speech but she thought she might mention that first kiss, under a tartan blanket, on a beach in Suffolk that inspired a lifetime of literary work. 

[buriednurbckyrd]

Perfect Fit

Part 2 of my ongoing dominant!reader series.  Also available on AO3

Y/N sat in front of her mirror meticulously filling in her lips with a classic red, her eyeliner was applied to perfection.  Natasha fluffed her red hair and looked over her shoulder at Wanda who was idly flipping through a magazine, already finished getting ready.  

“Wanda, be a pal? Zip me up?”  Natasha asked.  The other woman pulled the zipper up on Nat's dress.  

“You look very beautiful,”  Wanda told her friend.  “Dr. Banner will not be able to keep his eyes off of you.”  Natasha smoothed out the black satin that hugged her curves.  

“That's the idea.”  She replied with a wink.  Wanda tugged at the hem of her dress.  It was a simple vintage inspired silhouette, intricate black lace laid over a white lining.  She was a little nervous that it was too short.  Tony Stark was throwing one of his infamous parties, this one with a black and white theme, and she had let her friends pick her outfit. Y/N was still in her dressing gown, and having finished her makeup was putting the finishing touches on her hair.  She decided to leave it down and loose, so she used a curling iron to achieve gentle waves.  “So, Y/N, are you planning to run into anyone special tonight?  Perhaps a certain… Captain?” Natasha teased.  

“I don't plan to do running of any kind.  He can come to me.”  She stood up and slipped out of her robe.  She picked up a bottle of perfume and sprayed a fragrant cloud to walk through on her way to her closet to put on her dress.  Natasha wolf whistled at her mostly naked form.  

“If he knew how small your panties were he'd beg you to skip the party.”  She called out, and Y/N chuckled in response.  

“Steve does not seem like the begging kind.”  Wanda said.  “But I am confused, did you two have a fight?”  

“Not at all,” Y/N's voice sounded from behind the closed closet door.  “He's been the perfect gentlemen.”  

“That's the problem.”  Natasha stage whispered.  

“He has taken you out for dinner several times, yes?”  Wanda asked.  

“Six times,” Y/N answered.  “Dammit, where did my shoes go?”  The two women heard her curse and rummage around her closet.  “Oh!  Found them! Anyway, we've gone out six times.  First night he kissed my hand. Next, my cheek.  Date three I kissed him and he made sure it was short and sweet.  I get it, he's from a different time, and I love how nice he is.  It's so refreshing to not have to fight off some creep's wandering hands, but Steve is not a creep and I wouldn't want to fight him off!  So I upped the ante and finally got some tongue action after date six.”  The door opened and Natasha smirked.  

“Oh I think you can count on some action tonight.”  Y/N laughed and linked arms with her two friends.  

“Ladies, let's go knock 'em dead.”  

…

Music was playing at a tasteful level, drinks were flowing, and guests were already dancing and mingling when Steve and Sam arrived at Tony's latest party.  Discreet wait staff made rounds with trays full of fancy finger foods.  Sam plucked a bacon wrapped scallop and shoved it in his mouth.  

“Not bad.”  He said after he swallowed.  “Stark throws a decent shindig.”  

“I'm sure his lady had a lot to do with this,”  Steve replied.  “This has her classy hands all over it.”  The two men made their way over to the host and hostess.  “Everything looks lovely, ma'am.” Steve told her and the woman thanked him and kissed his cheek.  

“Stop hitting on my girlfriend, Rogers.”  Tony joked.  “Don't you have a chick of your own, now?”  

“I doubt she would appreciate being called a 'chick', but I suppose I do.”  Steve scanned the room.  “I guess she isn't here yet.” He was mildly disappointed.  He knew she was coming, and he couldn't wait to see her again.  He thought about her all the time.  The way she smiled at him, her voice, her laugh, her eyes…  Before he could stop himself his mind filled with memories of their latest date.  When he kissed her goodnight her arms had gone around his neck, those clever fingers teased the short hair at the base of his skull, and her lips had completely undone him.  It had taken all his willpower to bid her goodnight and walk away.  He had to take a freezing cold shower when he got back to his room.  

“There's Natasha,  Wanda and Y/N can't be far behind.”  Tony's voice interrupted Steve's thoughts.  He turned and very nearly swallowed his tongue.  

“Well Tony, you've outdone yourself, which is what I'd say if I didn't know for a fact you had almost nothing to do with the plans.”  Natasha said as she strolled over.  “But you did pay for everything so I suppose you deserve some credit.”  

“Nat, you flatterer.”  Tony replied dryly.  “May I say that you ladies look absolutely ravishing?”  Steve could barely register how Natasha and Wanda looked, his eyes were solely for Y/N.  In a sea of guests dressed mostly in black with pops of white accents, she stood out in head to toe white.  The neckline plunged in a deep V, and a slit cut up to just above her knee.  When she turned, he saw that the dress was backless, save for two thin straps that criss-crossed over her skin.  It might have been risque, but on her it managed to be effortlessly sexy, leaving just enough to the imagination. The only accessory she had chosen to wear was a pearl tear drop that rested just below her collarbone.  

“Wow. Y/N, you look stunning.”  Sam took her hand and she laughed when he lead her into a twirl.  Silk flowed like water over her body.  

“Thank you, Sam.”  Her eyes flicked over to Steve and her lips curved in a seductive smile.  “You look very dashing tonight, Steve.”  He struggled to find his voice for a moment.  

“You look beautiful.”  He finally managed.  Y/N kissed his cheek.  

“Thank you.  I think I'm going to go find myself a drink.”  Wanda followed her, and Steve couldn't help watching her walk away.  

“Sam, I think you better grab a napkin before Rogers drools all over himself.”  Natasha joked.  Steve blushed and looked down at his feet.  Y/N always made him feel nervous when she was around, and he had never seen her so dressed up.  She looked glamorous and untouchable, like the women that had always intimidated him before the serum.  When he looked back up he saw her laugh with Wanda at the bar, her nose crinkled in that way that way he loved.  In that moment he knew that no matter how polished she was on the outside, on the inside she was still the funny, kind woman he was falling for. Natasha nudged him with her elbow.  “I think you should go ask the lady for a dance.”  Steve smiled at his friend left her and Sam.  

Y/N sipped her drink, Wanda had seen Vision hovering by one of the exits and left to go talk to him.  A Frank Sinatra song began to play and she hummed along.  When she felt a tap on her shoulder she turned and was relieved to see Steve. He was the only guy she wanted to approach her tonight.  

“I was wondering if you would like to dance?”  He asked.  Y/N nodded with a grin and took a last sip of her cocktail before leaving the glass on the bar.  Steve's hand went around her to rest on her lower back.  She let him lead her to the dance floor and was happy to find that he wasn't as bad a dancer that he claimed to be. He was always self deprecating when it came to his skills, telling her that Bucky had been the dance hall regular back in the 40s.  

“You've been holding out on me, Captain.”  She said.  “Any other hidden talents I should know about?”  Her mildly suggestive tone caused a pleasant heat to bloom in his lower stomach.  

“I guess you'll have to wait and see.”  Y/N's eyes widened at his flirty remark.  

“So mysterious.”  She slid her hand up his arm to rest on his shoulder.  Feeling empowered, his hand stroked down her bare skin until it rested at the small of her back.  

“You're so soft.”  He said, and cringed, feeling a little foolish.  She smiled and leaned up to peck a kiss to his lips.  

“You don't ever have to second guess with me, Steve.  I like you even when you think you're being awkward.”

“Is it that obvious?”  

“Just a little,” her eyes lit up with humor.  “But you should know that I'm totally smitten with you.”  Steve grinned.

“Smitten? Do people still say that?”  

“If they don't, they should.  It's a very good word.”

“In that case, I'm pretty smitten with you too.”  Y/N giggled.  He decided it was one of his top five favorite sounds.  

“I'm relieved to hear that.  I would have been so disappointed if this dress had gone to waste on a man that wasn't interested.”  

“I was interested before the dress, but if I'm being completely honest,” He looked into her eyes.  “You took my breath away when you walked in here tonight.”  She saw the spark of lust in his expression.  

“I really hope I'm not reading this wrong.”  Her arms went around his neck and she kissed him again.  She heard him make a pleased sound low in his throat and it gave her all the encouragement she needed. She nipped at his bottom lip, licked against his tongue when his lips parted in surprise.  The two broke apart when they heard Tony wolf whistle.  

“Perhaps it's time we moved to a less public location?”  Steve said.  Y/N smirked.  “What?”  

“Natasha was wrong.  She thought I would need to describe my underwear to you before you'd want to skip the party.”  Steve swallowed hard.  

“Well, if you wanted to I guess it would be rude to stop you.”  She laughed and tugged at his his tie, pulling his head down.  He shivered when her lips grazed his ear.

“I would have to still be wearing them to describe them to you.”  His breath hitched and he grabbed her hand.  As she was led out of the party Natasha shot Y/N a thumbs up.

…

“Wait! Steve I'm going to fall off my shoes!”  Y/N giggled and stopped to slip out of her heels.  They had given her an extra four inches of height, but they weren't made for running down dimly lit hallways. Or anywhere, really.  When they reached the elevator they paused again.  Steve looked a little nervous again.

“Um, where should we…  Who's room…?”  Y/N silenced him with a passionate kiss.  

“FRIDAY? Take us to my room, please.” Her delicate fingers began undoing his tie and unbuttoning his shirt.  She trailed her fingers down his chest and stomach.  Every one of his muscles twitched at her touch.  “Mmm.  Very responsive, aren't you?”  The elevator dinged and she gently pulled him out and towards her room.  

Finally finding himself in her space, Steve looked around her room.  It was very her; mostly tidy, feminine, and comfortable.  His heart raced when she pushed his shirt off, but he was with her and that soothed his nerves.  Until she started pulling him towards her bed.  

“Uh, Y-Y/N...” He stuttered.  She dropped her hands immediately and stepped back, her face full of concern.

“Too fast?  I'm sorry, Steve.”  

“N-no. Perfect speed, really.  It's just...”  He rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed.  

“Hey, just tell me.”  She sat down and patted the bed next to her.  

“I haven't been with many women,” He admitted.  “And it seems like when I get to this point, they expect me to…  Take charge.”  Y/N nodded in understanding.  “Like I'm the same guy I am in the super suit, you know?  But that's not me.”  The tips of his ears burned bright red.  Y/N cupped her hand around his cheek and turned him to face her.  

“I'm not really a lie down and take it kind of girl, sweetie.” Her tone sent excited tingles through his body.  “If I'm understanding correctly, you want the woman to take the reins?”  Steve bit his lip and nodded.  Y/N's lips curved into a seductive grin.  “Oh, I think I can do that, Captain.”  She reached over and unbuckled his belt.  He was already hardening in his slacks, and it thrilled her.  With one swift motion she pulled the belt off and snapped it playfully. The sound both startled him and fueled his arousal.  “That was an interesting reaction,”  She tapped the leather against her palm. “But we don't want to start off too big, do we?  We have to leave something to explore later.”  Relief mingled with slight disappointment.  

“May I touch you?”  He asked in a rough voice.  Y/N smiled and took one of his hands, laying it over one of her silk covered breasts.  Steve moaned and rubbed his thumb over her nipple.  He sucked in his breath as she undid his pants, sighed when the pressure eased on his erection.  

“Lay back.”  She told him softly.  He followed her direction and made himself comfortable.  Steve had no idea watching a woman remove his shoes and socks could be a turn on, but watching her undress him in that seemingly innocent way, her eyes darkened with lust gazing up at him, was absolutely electrifying.  Y/N ran her hands up his legs.   His eyes closed when she grazed his cock and he was mildly disappointed when she didn't pay more attention to it.  “These need to come off.”  She started pulling his pants down his hips, and he shifted to help her work them down his legs.  He was now more than half naked, and she was still standing in her dress.  

“Are you going to…?”  He mimed pulling clothing over his head.  She chuckled and pushed the tiny straps down her arms.  

“It actually goes the other way.”  She said, and the silk slid down her body and pooled at her feet.  Steve couldn't have taken his eyes off of her if his life had depended on it.  

“Wow.” Y/N straddled his hips and leaned down to kiss him.  She hummed in approval when his arms went around her and his hands stroked down her back.  She pulled away from his lips but peppered his neck with licks and little nibbles.  When she found a particularly sensitive patch of skin she spent a few moments lavishing attention on the spot until he thought he would come apart at the seams.  His heart beat wildly in his chest when her exploration moved lower.  Tongue and teeth found one of his nipples and he arched in surprise.  “I didn't think guys liked that.”  He said.  Y/N looked up at him and grinned.  

“Everyone's different.  Looks like you do, though.”  

“Yes.” At this point he wasn't sure there was anything she could do that he wouldn't like.  She gently bit down and soothed the ache with a swipe of her tongue. “Oh, shit.”  He heard a quiet laugh and she eased her way down his body.  His stomach quivered under her mouth and hands and his dick throbbed in anticipation.  Y/N straightened and sat back on his thighs.  Steve was a flushed, writhing mess.  His normally neatly combed hair was thoroughly mussed and his lips were slightly swollen from him biting them.  

“Gorgeous,” she purred.  “I could spend hours taking you apart.  Find every single spot on your body that brings you pleasure.”  She rolled her hips against him and he moaned.  “Learn how to keep you right on the edge until your only coherent thought is release.  You'll beg for it.”

“Y/N!” He yelped as she stuck her hand inside his boxers.  She swirled her thumb over the dripping head, teasing him.  

“I admit I'm a little impatient tonight, so we'll just have to imagine that for now.  Right now I'm dying to get my mouth on you.”  A vague, confused thought floated around his mind, she had already had her mouth on him.  When she yanked down his underwear and her lips closed around him it became stunningly clear for him.  

“Oh, ohhhhh...”  He groaned and propped himself up on his elbows to watch.  She sucked at the head at first and then traced the tip of her tongue up and down the prominent vein along the length.  With a wicked grin she suddenly swallowed him down to the root, her eyes never leaving his.  When her throat constricted around him, his vision grew dark around the edges and he collapsed back with a loud moan.  “I'm so close.” He choked out and she just hummed around him.  The vibrations pushed him closer to the brink.  “Please don't stop, oh fuck...”  She swallowed again and he was lost.  He cried out her name while she sucked and licked him through his climax until it was overwhelming.  Before his brain cleared her dripping core was hovering over his face.  

“While we wait and see what kind of refractory period a super solider has, why don't you return the favor and get me ready for the main event.” Steve gripped her hips and pulled her down, plunging his tongue into her heat.  Y/N let out a long moan.  What he lacked in experience he made up for in enthusiasm.  He wasn't a total novice, and knew the basics.  His mouth had her worked up faster than she expected and she was soon just as desperate as he was.  “Oh, Steve.  I need you to lick my clit, come on babe, make me come.”  He grunted and swiped his tongue over the little nub. Her legs trembled and she was thankful that his arms were holding her up.  “Right there, yes!”  The orgasm ripped through her like a hurricane.  When she couldn't tolerate anymore of his touch she pulled away and laid down next to him, needing to catch her breath.  

“That was…  Wow.”  Y/N laughed weakly and rolled over, throwing her arm over his chest.  She tasted herself on his lips when she kissed him.

“And we're not even done yet.”  She said and slid her hand down his body, very happy to find him already semi erect again.  “I think this is my favorite super solider perk.”  His laugh quickly turned to a moan while her hand stroked him to full hardness.  “I can't wait to ride this.”  She breathed in his ear and he shivered. She swung her leg over him and rubbed herself against his cock. With her free hand she pushed his arms over his head and pinned his wrists.  “We both know you could overpower me in about three seconds,” she said.  “But you're going to be good and pretend you can't, right?”  When he only nodded she squeezed his dick, not enough to hurt, just hard enough to get his attention.  “What was that?”

“Y-yes ma'am.”  

“Shit, why did that sound so damn hot?”  She slowly sank down on his length and heard him whimper.  “You fill me up perfectly.” She rolled her hips, feeling him pulse inside of her.  With one hand still holding his wrists, she placed the other one on his chest for leverage and began a slow pace.  The drag of his cock against her walls was exquisite, like he had been made to fit inside of her.  

“Y/N, oh please...”  He didn't know what he was asking for, just that she felt like heaven around him and he needed more.  She sped up, rotating her hips on the down stroke.  Steve felt his eyes roll back into his head.  Even though she had already brought him to orgasm he was afraid he wouldn't last much longer.  Everything with her was so intense, and he felt the pleasure build in his groin.  “Doll, I'm close again.”  He warned.  She leaned down and gave him a filthy kiss.  

“Don't move.”  She ordered and took her hand away from his wrists.  She sat up and continued to ride him, moving faster.  With one hand she cupped her own breast and rolled her nipple in her fingers, with her other she pressed against her clit.  The visual of her touching herself while she rode his cock was the final push he needed.  With a sound that bordered on a yell his body was overcome.  A few more thrusts and just the right pressure on that little bundle of nerves she followed him seconds later.  She convulsed around him, milking every last bit of pleasure out of him.  Still panting from her climax, she gently slid off of him and curled into his side.  She stroked a hand over his damp skin in a tender gesture.  For all the dominance she demonstrated it seemed that she craved to be held after being in control.  Steve pulled her in close and pressed gentle kisses to her face.  

“You are amazing.”  He murmured and tucked her hair behind her ear.  Y/N kissed him softly.

“Thank you, Captain.”  

[thepatricktreestump]

Saudade: Ch14

As much as the nightmare freaked you out, you were grateful for it. It was your wake up call. You needed to get your head on straight. No more wavering from side to side, you needed to stay truthful to the one who had been there for you from the start. You promised yourself that you were going to, or at least, for as long as he stayed with you. The next time he went on tour or left you somewhere, or you had an opportunity, you would think twice. But until then, you would stay true to Josh who had stayed true to you. Well, that was until two weeks later, when Josh brought up the subject and that tiny idea sprouted in your mind. You were eating lunch with Josh when he first mentioned it. “So I have good news,” he announced after having finished his Chipotle, folding the wrapper over and crumpling it up onto the table.

“Do you now?” you raised an eyebrow.

“You have to guess what it is though,” he smiled.

“Oh god,” you rolled your eyes. “This will take forever.”

“Fine, you want me to just tell you?” he laughed.

“Please,” you insisted, taking a bite of your burrito and chewing thoughtfully, waiting for his response. Maybe he was taking you on a vacation of some sort. Maybe he was going to show you a new single he had been working on with Tyler. Maybe he finally got a call from that drum company that wanted to design a custom set for him. You honestly had no clue what he could have been leading onto. There were so many possibilities it was impossible for you to narrow it down. “Come on, Josh.”

“Tyler and I got nominated for best album,” he beamed. “And they’re flying us out to Los Angeles to go to the awards show. For free.”

“Are you fucking serious?” you widened your eyes. “Oh my god! That’s amazing!”

“I know!” Josh grinned ear to ear. “We’re going up against world famous celebrities, and we’re just these two boys from Columbus, it’s crazy.”

“I’m so proud of you!” you smiled.

“We’d be gone for a couple days,” he explained. “We’re going to have a bunch of photoshoots and interviews and it’s going to be insane, but it’s worth it. It’s so worth it.” The couple of days burned into your mind. If he was gone, then that meant you’d be all alone. Just a couple days by yourself. Just enough time for you to sneak out of the house, go fuck Brendon a couple times, come back, and pretend like nothing ever happened. Just a quick fix, that would be it. And then you’d be fine, you wouldn’t be asking for anything else, you’d be content. Right? It would be perfect. “…and with you there beside me, it would probably be one of the best days of my life!”

“Wait, what?” you did a doubletake, just now reeling back into the conversation.

“You’re coming, right?” he asked. “I mean, I wouldn’t want you anywhere else.”

“Oh, yeah definitely,” you quickly reassured, although your mind was already coming up with excuses not to go. You could fake sick, he’d probably buy that.

“It’s this weekend by the way,” he added, and you almost spat out your Chipotle.

“Like this-this weekend?” you wondered.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “We’d leave tomorrow.”

“Wow,” you nodded slowly. “That’s soon, like, really soon.”

“It is,” he chuckled. “You okay with that?”

“Yup, it’s cool,” you insisted. “I’m up for an adventure.”

Although that was not the adventure you were planning on. That night when you snuggled up next to Josh in bed, you were trying to concoct your evil plan. Somehow, your mind figured that if you just fucked Brendon a couple times, just a few, things would be okay. It wouldn’t be that bad. It wasn’t like you hated the way Josh had sex with you. You loved the sweet slow intimate moments you shared with him, the way he would be gentle and cautious, always asking if you’re okay or comfortable. However, lately it had been a problem. He hadn’t been able to make you cum all week long, and you were getting extremely tired of faking it, not only because it was exhausting and disappointing on your end, but you felt really guilty and bad for Josh. It wasn’t his fault.

In fact, if anything, it should be you confronting him about it. But you were terrified. You couldn’t imagine Josh being as rough as Brendon had been with you. Josh wasn’t the type of guy to spank your ass until it turned bright red or scratch your back so hard it was bleeding, you couldn’t even picture him contemplating such a thing. He would never do anything to hurt you or cause pain to you, even if it meant giving you pleasure. Josh just wasn’t a rough person in the bedroom. He was all cuddles and forehead kisses and rubbing your back and making out with you nice and slow. You recalled the time Josh had been sitting with you on the couch when the Fifty Shades of Grey trailer came on, rolling his eyes and calling it extremely kinky, playfully teasing you and asking if you wanted to sign the special contract he’s created for you. You just laughed and told Josh to fuck off, but now thinking about it, you could never actually confess any of those things to Josh. Your dirty little desires, your fucking daddy kink, none of that would ever appeal to Josh. He wouldn’t understand.

The next morning you decided to sneak out of bed in the early morning and lock yourself in the bathroom with a thermometer. You ran the hot water and stuck the thermometer underneath until it reached a little over one hundred degrees, and then plugged the sink and turned off the water, keep the thermometer underneath. It wasn’t long before Josh got up and knocked on the door. “Y/n?” he wondered. “You alright?”

“I feel really sick,” you mumbled, quickly draining the water and pulling out the thermometer, wiping it dry.

“What’s wrong? Let me in,” he insisted.

“O-okay…” you responded hesitantly, opening up the door and clenching your stomach, then holding the thermometer out towards him. “I think I have a fever.”

“Oh god, one hundred and three degrees? Are you okay?” he stepped towards you and frowned, kissing the top of your forehead.

“I feel miserable,” you sighed, closing your eyes tight and really trying to sell it. “I don’t know if I’d do well on a flight, Josh. I’m afraid I might puke.”

“Here, just take it easy,” he reassured. He carefully scooped you up and walked you out to the living room, setting you on the sofa and pulling a blanket over you. “I’ll pack your bag.”

“Josh, I really don’t think I’m in the position to go,” you argued, but he shook his head.

“I don’t want you home sick and all alone,” he insisted. “You’re going to come with me, it’s  going to be okay.”

“I feel miserable,” you complained, but he soothed you, placing a kiss to your head.

“Don’t worry, you’re in good hands with me,” he reassured, then grabbed an ice pack from the freezer and placed it to your forehead. “Look, I’ll pack everything, we’ll leave for the airport in the hour, and we’ll be in LA before you ever know it.”

“O-okay,” you stammered out defeatedly.

There was no use. You already felt a twinge of guilt for even thinking you could pull something like that. Here Josh was, over the moon to possibly receive this giant award, and you were going to ditch him so you could fuck Brendon. God, you were truly hopeless. Much less with the smile on Josh’s face yesterday and how he described it to be one of the best days of your life, how could you even dare to follow through with your plan. You were angry at yourself, but you were still torn. Even months after leaving Brendon, you still refused to believe this was the end for the two of you. You still thought about him almost every waking moment. You couldn’t even enjoy sex with your boyfriend anymore. You were an absolute mess.

However, Josh was right. Everything would just be fine. You decided to cut out the act after you got to the hotel, telling Josh you felt much better now and that he was right, and he just smiled. It hurt though, inside. Because you shouldn’t be like this. You shouldn’t have to even think twice. You should be loving him with all your heart. He didn’t even know. You couldn’t even imagine telling Josh. How would you even begin? Much less, he would never be able to trust you again. He would be so hurt. And most importantly, he would blame himself. Because that’s what Josh would do. He would never blame anything on you, or hurt you, or think of you as a burden or problem. He loved you that much. And here yet you were, not even having the courage to so much as go on a simple flight with him to an award show. What the fuck. You closed your eyes, Josh catching something off guard, his expression softening. “You okay?” he inquired. “You still feel bad? You don’t have to lie to me you know.”

Out of any choice of words he could’ve chosen, of course he had to go off and bring up the whole trust thing again. You bit down hard on your tongue, guilt rising in your stomach, wishing you could just fucking disappear already. “Just nervous,” you shrugged. “I don’t really do social situations that well.”

“Like I do,” he rolled his eyes. “Come on, you know me. I’ll be right there beside you.”

“Yeah,” you took a deep breath. “Thank you.”

That night, Josh spoiled you absolutely rotten. He took you out to a fancy Italian restaurant and even ordered champagne, and then went to a boutique to buy you a gown for tomorrow’s award show. He smiled as you tried on different ones, twirling around for him and strutting your stuff, him giggling and calling you his princess. You finally settled on one and Josh smiled, then you headed off to go find a matching tie for him. You both picked up an iced coffee before heading to the beauty parlor, where Josh insisted he treat you out and get your nails done to match the color of your dress, which you rolled you eyes at but complied anyways. He really knew how to treat you like a queen.

When Tyler and Jenna’s flight rolled in, you all agreed to meet up in a small plaza and get some late night ice cream. “How are you guys doing?” Jenna wondered.

“This morning y/n was a little bit under the weather but she seems to be doing good now,” Josh replied. “I’m great. You guys?”

“Wonderful,” Tyler smiled. “But I’ve got some news for you, Josh.”

“Yeah?” he raised an eyebrow.

���We’ve been invited for this afterparty and I was wondering if you’d be interested?” Tyler offered. “We don’t have to stay long, and I’m not usually one for big events, but it’s supposed to be legendary and there’s rumors Celine Dion is going to come so I mean, we don’t really have a choice.”

“Oh definitely,” Josh nodded. “We’re going.”

“You boys are ridiculous,” Jenna laughed, taking a bite of her ice cream cone.

“You girls are tagging along too,” Tyler narrowed his eyes. “Don’t think that you’re going to get out of this.”

“Fine,” Jenna giggled. “How could I pass up a good party? Am I right, y/n?”

“Oh never,” you shook your head. “Always got to go.”

“The girlfriend has spoken,” Josh sighed, giving a soft laugh. “To the social event we go!”

That evening you and Josh snuggled up in the hotel bed, deciding to pop in a movie and cuddle for a little bit. He had his arms wrapped around you and was kissing at your neck, making you let out a little moan. “Josh,” you sighed, closing your eyes and getting lost in the sensation of his lips and tongue against your sensitive skin. “That feels so fucking good.”

“I can make you feel even more good if you’d give me the chance,” he teased, snaking his hands towards your breasts and giving them a small squeeze, making you hum softly. “But again, that’s up to you.”

“Make me feel good,” you whispered. “Don’t hold back.”

“I never do,” he chuckled, hands sliding underneath your shirt to tug it off. You had to keep from laughing out loud, his last comment replaying in your mind. He never holds back when he has sex? Yet he’s so sweet and slow and comforting with you? You really wished he was just joking, but your mind insisted he was speaking the truth. Goddammit, Josh was too soft sometimes. He slid off the fabric carefully and then left kissing down your back, then sliding a hand down your pants, starting to finger you gently, sliding in two fingers and pumping in and out.

“Oh fuck,” you mumbled, his finger circling your clit and his lips smirking against your neck as you soaked your panties. “Come on Josh, stop teasing.”

“What do you mean?” he inquired. “I’m not doing anything.”

“Oh shut the fuck up and let me have your cock already,” you argued, the words coming out a little bit harsher than you intended. You could practically hear the way Josh blinked twice, the hitch in his breath, the way he flexed his muscles, his fingers frozen near your core. He wasn’t used to you talking to him like that. Ever.

“You um, you must really be desperate then, huh?” the words came out awkward, and you sensed the way he uncomfortably swallowed, almost hesitant to move or speak or do anything.

“I just want you,” you tried to cover up your mistake, turning around and letting him slip his hands out from your pants and let you face him, your legs straddling his hips and your arms pushing his shoulders back into the backboard of the bed. You slid your hands down his chest and then tugged up his shirt, then let them creep back down to his waistline.

“You can want me,” he began cautiously. “But there’s no need for that kind of language, okay?”

“Okay,” your voice went soft, your cheeks flushed, embarrassed. You looked down, avoiding eye contact, starting to toy with the button and zipper on his jeans. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay baby,” he insisted. “Don’t sweat about it.”

“Y-yeah,” you stammered, biting down on your lower lip, still fumbling with his pants.

“Now come on,” he murmured. “Let me give you that cock you so desperately wanted.”

“Oh god, Josh,” you closed your eyes and helped him slide out of his jeans, palming him through his boxers and moaning as soon as your fingers brushed up against his erection.

However, when you had sex with Josh that night, he was still the same. You tried to take control and Josh only shook his head, reminding you that he wanted to be in charge. You tried to scratch his back but he gave you a strange look, making you shy away from trying to do it again. You tried to even just simply make things faster, rolling your hips up to meet his at a quicker pace, but his hands found your waist, slowing you down and insisting you take things one step at a time. No matter what you tried, nothing proved successful.

So that’s what led to you having to fake an orgasm, again. Which you promised would be the last time you would ever do that. You were in the hotel room that night, everything dark and quiet, your naked body pressed up against Josh’s, his arms wrapped around you, you staring into the emptiness of the room, contemplating what to do. You just couldn’t continue like this. It was eating you up like crazy. Maybe if you talked to Josh about it, he’d be more understanding. Perhaps all you needed was an actual grown up conversation. If he loved you that much, he’d try something new for you, right? Just a little bit of roughness was all you needed. Just a hair pull here or there, a couple back scratches, even just one hickey for Christ’s sake. Josh was babying you like you were a teenage virgin. You were craving the submission that came with overpowering dominance and the pain that tied hand in hand with slight sadism in the bedroom. You needed it. Maybe even more than you needed Josh.

[runawayforthesummer]

Chapter 5: Tomcat and Canary?

We switch back to Hamilton’s POV where he’s left thinking of

The dazzling apparition of the Schuyler daughter floating down the stairs

Oh, my!

He’s waiting a moment to enter the ball b/c Philip is a dick and Eliza wouldn’t make eye contact.

That wasn’t his only trouble at the moment.  He didn’t usually affect a wig, but he’d put one on this morning.  Not for the meeting with General Schuyler, but in anticipation of the ball tonight, news of which had been all over Albany since he arrived three days earlier.

Wait.  But why can’t he just go back to wherever he was staying the last three nights? Wouldn’t that be better than sleeping in the barn of a guy who hates you and looks down on you?

Then there’s this weird thing where a “servant,” Rodger (who I think is supposed to be a stand in for Prince, a slave the Schuyler owned but who the author didn’t learn shit about, I’m guessing) scratches Hamilton’s head under his wig.  I don’t know.  It’s weird.  And a little like, what? One outsider helping another out?  I don’t need this kind of imagery!  Alexander Hamilton had no idea what a slave’s life was like and cannot relate to a slave on any level and I’m offended.  Otherwise, if it’s meant to be Rodger accepting Hamilton as rich shit who will be part of the family one day (as he says, he often scratches the General’s head for him), it’s still weird.

Hamilton enters the ball and surveys the crowd, noticing the young women are all about the young men.  Shocking.

With so many of the local boys away at war, there was almost no prey for this pack o fierce and brightly colored predators to track down and capture.  Alex felt at least a dozen pairs of eyes fasten on him as he walked into the room.

Boy is there a lot of animal imagery in this book.

Anyway, Ham finds himself surrounded by a bunch of girls and makes fun of their Dutch names, which is kind of funny. 

“I can’t imagine anything more frightening than a battlefield,” cooed a Miss Van Leuwenwoort, whom Alex was calling Liverwurst in his head.

….in my defense, I said it was only kind of funny!

Of course, everyone wants to know I he’s been in a battle and Hamilton tries to cover like he’s seen a ton of battle.

But you can’t trick those Schuyler sisters who have just entered the room.

They each enter with a ding that they know what he really does for Washington all day.

First, Angelica:

Alex looked up just as a new wig appeared among the peaks, looming like an iceberg emerging from an ocean fog.  It crowned a long, magnificently sculptured face that would have been almost too severe but for the exuberance of a set of fully, richly rouged lips, which were set in a smirk of private amusement.

Angelica enjoys laughing AT you, not with you.  I love her.

Peggy:

This beauty was without a wig, though the dark locks had been piled nearly as high as any of the other girls’ pompadours.  Her face was softer than that of the India ink jokester [Angelica], yet there was a familiar resemblance.

Then he gets a bad feeling.

And then there’s Eliza.

The girl from the stairs, dressed in a simple gown unamplified by hoops.

I need more of his feelings on that, please! 

She stood in the middle of her siblings, glowing with good health, a little shorter than the one, a little taller than the other, and yet more vibrant than either, despite the plainness of her gown.

The girls make fun of Hamilton’s choice of words in describing himself as an “amanuensis,” which is cute. He wants to sound all important and they literally call him a “dummy,” since he’s just copying out Washington’s words.

Again, seems kind of rude, right?

But Ham is into it. 

Alex looked up at the three faces arranged determinedly before him: elegant Angelica on the left; pretty Peggy on the right; and in the middle, the most bewitching of the three, seeming to combine the best features of both sisters and yet not resembling either of them.  Angelica and Peggy were both lovely girls, but their beauty emanated from their visages.  Eliza was certainly lovely as well, yet her distinction, her captivating quality, came from within rather than without.

I mean…good message and all, but Eliza still should’ve put on a damn fancy dress like requested of her.

Anyway, Ham throws his handkerchief up and surrenders to them.

“Do with me what you will.”

Eliza stared back at him for a long moment, a triumphant smile flickering at the edge of her lips.  Then she reached out and, as if she were plucking a flower, pulled the handkerchief from Alex’s hand.  Examining it as though she’d never before seen a man’s lace-edged, pocket handkerchief, she tucked it into her cleavage.

HOT DAMN, ELIZA.

He definitely came.

And so did we all.