#he doesn’t give two shits about anybody and that’s the hottest thing about him | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

himaboroshi736 · 4 years ago

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IronDad fic recs

Here. I’m a french reader, but I’ve read A LOT (like...a lot) of IronDad, so, eventually, here my fic rec. (I tried to class it by categories, but well...) (it’s gonna be very long, guys)

Peter Parker has anxiety

Don’t let me get me, by hopeless_hope

He picks up his phone and sends a quick text. "hey, happy! i’m not feeling too hot today, so i think i’m gonna have to cancel. tell mr. stark i’m sorry!"

He stares at his phone, waiting for a response. It never comes, and Peter sighs sadly. There was a part of him, a small part, that really hoped he was wrong. His insides burn, and he curls up tighter into a ball and turns off his phone.

(No one’s going to try to contact him anyway.)

Anxiety has a way of convincing Peter that everyone hates him. Tony has a way of proving him wrong.

Midnight Oil, by @jolinarjackson

After everything that has happened to Peter over the last year - or five, really - he shouldn’t be worried about something as mundane as the ACT. When he fails it, though it sends him into a spiral of self-doubt, which only gets worse when Peter realizes that he doesn’t seem to be able to fix whatever is broken.

Tony Stark has anxiety

do you even remember what the world looks like ?, by @iron--spider

Tony’s heart has been working on overdrive since this whole thing started. Friday has a countdown clock plastered on the heads up display, but it feels like hieroglyphics to him at this point, like some ancient language he could never master.

Because when Peter Parker is missing, things start losing their meaning real quick.

“Should be around here,” Rhodey says on the com. May is still on the other line, listening in, because once a certain amount of time goes by without word from Peter, things move into Extremely Worried Aunt territory. They’re already in Tony Is Panicking territory, and when both of those territories overlap it’s never a good time for anybody.

Time? What the hell is time? His mind is blanking numbers out entirely. Minutes are seconds are hours are years.

not like megatron, by @iron--spider

“Hi! This is Peter Parker, I can’t get to the phone right now, so leave a message and I’ll call you back later! Hopefully not too much later, but don’t get your hopes up!”

Tony knows that message by heart. He’s heard it hundreds of times, in a greyer world, and it sends shivers down his spine as he climbs into the car.

He doesn’t think about that place. That half-world. No way, that’s done, that’s over, that’s history.

“Hey, kid, don’t you know it’s bad etiquette to go and disappear on your birthday? Not allowed, really, really bad vibes from the universe. What’s going on with your suit? I wasn’t watching. Nope. Just got an alert. What’s going on? Uh, call me back.” He clears his throat and hangs up like a moron, driving out into the street.

Hypothermia trope (i really like it so if you have any suggestions...)

i knock the ice from my bones, by hopeless_hope

Peter tries to move his legs through the water, dread filling him when they don’t move, and he just hangs there, doing anything and everything he can not to focus on the feeling of ice clinging to his bones. He feels sluggish, the world blurring around him, and he rests his head on the ice, not even registering the cold anymore.

He’s just so damn tired.

“PETER!” he hears someone yell, but it’s all muffled, and he lazily drags his eyes up to see a figure descending towards him.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he thinks, This is not how my vacation was supposed to go.

While on what's supposed to be a relaxing vacation with the Starks, things for Peter quickly go south, and he finds himself on thin ice. Literally.

Ice Ice Baby, by @wolfypuppypiles

If Tony, Bucky or pretty much anybody that knew Peter had seen him that morning they would have smacked him upside the head. Helping people was great, everyone should give it a go, but when helping people puts you in danger it’s not so smart anymore.

AKA Peter can't get from Avenger tower to the subway without giving his winter clothes to homeless people and ends up with a severe case of hypothermia

Candle in the Window, by @madasthesea

Finals are over and Peter just wants to go home. The weather has other ideas.

Burn This Out, by @ephemeralstark

It's summer and Peter is free to be Spider-Man all day which is great, but it's summer and Peter is out as Spider-Man on the hottest day of the year which is not great.

Or, Peter gets heat stroke because he can't thermoregulate and things could not go worse for him.

(yeah, it’s not an hypothermia, but it’s linked to the fact that Peter can’t actually thermoregulate)

Post-Endgame (really like this trope too lmao)

the first birthday after, by iron_spider

(Endgame spoilers. But The Thing doesn't happen.)

The rain falls harder and Tony turns, his neck creaking and cracking, and he sees Peter asleep over by the window. He’s holding a small, flat box, and he’s slowly slipping to the right side of the easy chair he’s in.

Tony thinks about letting him sleep, but he finds himself speaking anyway. “Pete,” he says, his voice rough and raspy.

Peter immediately startles awake. “Happy Birthday,” he says, almost like he’d fallen asleep practicing it, planning to say it as soon as he woke up. He blinks at Tony, shivering a little bit, and then he smiles. “Happy Birthday. Happy Birthday.”

Tony snorts, smiling back. “Thanks, bud,” he says.

Second Best, by Rowan_M

Tony had adjusted to parenthood quickly when Morgan came along, and was always conscious of making sure Peter isn't left out ... Almost always. When Peter gets hurt while taking care of Morgan, Tony obsess over his daughter and takes his anger out on Peter, without even checking to see if he was okay. Steve finds Peter later that night in serious pain and in need of immediate medical attention.

Or, Peter gets hurt while taking care of Morgan and Tony basically ignores him.

when you’re feeling empty keep me in your memory, by JkWriter

after everything with thanos he forgets it's his birthday. he just assumed everyone else did too.

All For You, by @ironxprince

Three weeks after the snap that saved the world, Peter learns he was the reason behind it. He learns that Tony risked death, and now has to live with the ramifications, both physical and mental, all because of him.

This doesn't sit right with him.

you save everybody, but who saves you ?, by @iron--spider

Tony doesn’t sleep, because he can’t, because too many things are plaguing him, most of all where Peter is and what he’s doing. Tony has a good view of the hallway through the windows to his room, and he stares and stares until his eyes cross, until he hallucinates, until he knows he’s going insane.

He sees Peter sneaking into the med bay at about four in the morning.

The kid’s mask is off and he’s got two short, harsh slashes across his cheek, and he’s bleeding from a slice across his neck. His suit is ripped in a few places and he’s holding onto his middle, and Tony can see his hands are shaking.

It’s like something splinters in Tony’s already broken brain, like his world narrows and there are hazy edges, both weakness and strength entwining in his veins when he sees Peter struggle up onto one of the beds in the main atrium, starting to tend his wounds without calling anybody to help.

BAMF Peter Parker

Pizza, a Movie, and... an Attempted Kidnapping ?, by Pogokitten

“Tony. We’ll be fine,” Peter tells the man for what must be the tenth time in the last half hour.

Peter’s sitting on the couch of his and May’s apartment and building Legos with Morgan as they both watch their father’s methodical, yet anxious, pacing. He’s dressed to impress, as is Pepper who is watching the scene slightly exasperated.

“Are you sure? We can ditch the gala, kid. Just say the word,” Tony offers, halting in front of his kids.

Or: Tony and Pepper leave Peter in charge of Morgan while they go to their first gala since the third snap. Peter is expecting a calm night in with his adopted sister, but some thugs throw a wrench in his plans.

he’s good like that, by @iron--spider

“Get the hell outta here, boy,” the man says. “Or you’re gonna watch your boss die in front of you.” Then he grabs Tony by the shoulders hard, and shoves him down to his knees. The gun is louder now, like it’s filled with words that are eager to be shouted, and Tony winces when he feels the barrel press against the back of his neck. His knees weren’t ready to hit the ground that hard, and he tries to keep the pain from reaching his face.

He must fail, because Peter looks pissed.

“You’re not gonna shoot him, mister,” Peter says, somehow still trying to maintain a respectful tone, despite the clear anger written all over him.

stark robotics and technology conference, by @iron--spider

Peter leans against the wall while Tony chooses their floor, and the doors close. “Do you, uh, want me to do some interning stuff? Like go and get you coffee? Make sure the, uh—programs are all ready? Make sure the paintings are straight in the ballroom? Make sure the chairs are—”

Tony snorts. “Kid, I just thought you’d enjoy this. May told me about when it came through Queens but you two couldn’t make it because she was working and didn’t want you to go alone, and I thought, after all the shit you’ve been through lately, that you deserved something fun. No interning for you. That’s just an excuse.”

Peter remembers that. It was six months after Ben died, and he wasn’t gonna bother May too much about the conference. He didn’t know how much tickets cost anyways, or if kids his age could even go.

He really hung onto the idea of Iron Man after Ben died. Peter held him closer than ever.

Peter and Tony fighting

dinner and a jailbreak, by killerqueenwrites

“I’m not your kid!” Peter shouts.

“Don’t walk away from me, I’m not done–“

“You’re not my dad!”

Peter fitting in after the Blip isn't as easy as Tony hoped it would be. He wants his kid back, but they can't seem to stop fighting.

and then Peter goes missing.

my old man, by parkrstark

"I just want to help you. I want to help you understand what's wrong here and how to stop it. I used to be the same way until my father showed me how to be a man." He glanced back at Peter to sneer. "He's old enough to know better by now, but it's not your fault you didn't know how to teach him." "Teach him what?" Tony asked even though he didn't want to know the answer.

"Discipline, of course," Junior said with a wink.

Tony takes Peter on a weekend trip to try and change his mind about college and things go wrong. Then, they go even more wrong.

Between how it is and how it should be, by @frostysunflowers

''Doesn’t Captain Rogers ever…wonder,'' Peter winced as he fumbled for the right word, ''where you are?''

Bucky smirked. ''Steve’s a regular mother hen. Used to be me that worried about him.'' He gave Peter a pointed look. ''Better question is, isn’t Stark wondering where you are?''

Soulmates trope

presumed dead, by killerqueenwrites

Tony gets his first soulmark when he’s fifteen, his second when he's thirty. He's forty-six when his third appears, and forty-eight when it fades to grey.

did you see the flares in the sky ?, by justt-ppeachy

‘hi’

One simple word was displayed proudly on the inside of his right wrist. Tony wasn’t sure when this word showed up or how long it had been there.

A line formed underneath the word and Tony could almost feel the pressure on his arm from the marker his soulmate was using to push one phrase from their skin into his.

‘i loev yu’

The letters were written slowly and messily as they showed up upon his wrist while he watched in disbelief. Not sure if he was hallucinating or just going insane, Tony rubbed at the writing, wondering if they would disappear once he looked again.

The words were barely recognizable, but they were still the best thing Tony had ever seen.

IronDad Fluff (yeah)

peter wearing tony’s hoodie, by killerqueenwrites

Tony’s used to his clothes going missing. His MIT hoodie doesn’t often leave his closet, though, which is why he notices its absence straight away. There’s a lifetime of safety and comfort in this old hoodie, for both of them, and that’s all Tony could ever wish to give Peter.

Career Day, by @superhusbands4ever

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” Peter’s enhanced senses picked up the familiar voice from outside the door. “I had a meeting this morning and then I got lost looking for the class… anyway, I’m here for Peter? Peter Parker?”

He frowned at hearing his name, still unsure what exactly was going on. He watched as his teacher continued to stand and stare out the door for a minute before seemingly remembering herself and taking a step back.

“Of course! If you could just go sit next to him until your turn, he’s in the back on the right side.”

The man stepped through the door and Peter gaped with the rest of the class as Tony Stark, in his signature suit and goatee, sporting a pair of red sunglasses and carrying a suitcase walked through the door.

Kryptonite, by forensicleaf

The kid is acting weird.

Tony tries to figure it out.

father’s day, by @iron--spider

It’s Father’s Day, and Tony never really had a father. Not in the real sense of the word, not in the way that counts.

Peter Parker doesn’t have a father, either. Not anymore, anyway, not since he was little, and the amount of years that have passed since then outweigh the amount of time he got with Richard Parker.

Tony wouldn’t call himself Peter’s dad. He wouldn’t, he doesn’t, he doesn’t think of himself that way, no way, no way.

He stares at himself in the mirror. He pulls down on his cheeks, makes his eyes water. He runs his hands over the roughness of his jaw and sorta hates everything about himself right now, because he’s acting like a goddamn idiot. It’s Father’s Day and he’s not a father. He doesn’t know why the hell he’s pining for something that isn’t his, shouldn’t be his, can never be his. He isn’t a father, he isn’t Peter’s father, so there’s no reason on God’s green earth for Peter and him to do something for Father’s Day.

ain’t no valley low enough, by @iron--spider (yes, again, ‘cuz she’s the best)

Peter snorts. “You know I didn’t apply anywhere in Florida.”

“Please, kid, you know all you have to do is write a beautiful essay with my recommendation attached to it and you’re in. You’ve got the scores.”

Peter has a list. Of all the places he applied to, all the places he got into. A lot of it was encouraged by the adult role models in his life, some of it by Ned daydreaming about places like California and Colorado. Mostly, Peter just applied everywhere he could think of, because he’s known for a long time that Tony was gonna help May pay for it, and he didn’t wanna limit his options. Thinking about college has been strange for him, strange to the extent that he had a full blown panic attack about it in the middle of Avengers taco night last month. He can’t really understand it, doesn’t get why it feels like the end of the world—because he’s experienced the end of the world, and it’s not which campus has a bowling alley and which school has circus classes. But he nearly blacked out all the same, sobbed in Tony’s arms on the balcony until Tony proposed this. The road trip.

and when it’s hard, i’ll place your head into my hands, by hopeless_hope

“Tony,” Pepper sing-songs to get his attention. “Your mother hen is showing.”

“What?” he snaps indignantly. “I am not a mother hen. This is just... concern. Of the average kind. Perfectly normal.”

“Of course,” Pepper humors him, and he shoots her a dirty look as he types out a quick text to Peter.

It's been five days since Tony's heard from Peter, who's away at college, and Tony is not coping well. (Neither is Peter.)

Peter likes cuddles (and Tony too, but he always denies it... until he can’t)

my arms will hold you (keep you safe and warm), by parkrstark

“So, you’re telling me your body...is going through Oxytocin withdrawals?” Tony asked slowly.

“Cuddle withdrawals,” Peter corrected him. “Mr. Stark cuddles.”

TW : Rape/non-cons

make me strong, by parkrstark

It all started when Tony introduced Peter to Skip Westcott. He just didn't know until it was too late.

(There is a lot more, but I can’t find it rn ;-;)

5+1

5 times peter clung to tony, by parkrstark

... and the one time tony clung to him.

You are my Dad, you’re my dad, boogiewoogiewoogie, by Hittinmiss

“Peter? What’s going on kid?” Tony asked, him popping up on the phone’s screen.

“Hey da-” Peter started automatically before immediately noticing his mistake, the look on Ned’s face proved that yes, he almost called Tony Stark dad. He needed to try recover quickly because the look on Tony’s face seemed confused, especially with his slight pause. “-aaaaaamn Mr. Stark I really like your shirt. Where’d you get it?”

Smooth.

---

5 times Peter called Tony Dad and the 1 time Tony called himself Dad

5 Times Tony Took Care of Peter..., by As_Clear_As_Crystal

“Think if I coded a sign into your suit that says ‘Baby on Board,’ maybe criminals wouldn’t be so enthusiastic about murdering you?” Tony asks airily, poking at the bottom of Peter’s foot.

Peter halfheartedly kicks at Tony with his toe. (“That’s offensive, Mr. Stark.” )

- - -

aka: Five times Tony took care of Peter, and one time Peter took care of Tony.

5 times Peter is stuck with Tony, by @iron--spider

(...and one time he’s stuck alone.)

“I wonder if Pepper’s reported me missing yet,” Tony says, with an exaggerated sigh. “I wonder if this is some kind of scheme to kidnap me or something.”

“I think the ride’s just broken,” Peter says.

“Today of all goddamn days,” Tony says, exasperation clear in his voice and in his eyes. “Ruining our trip—”

“It’s not ruined,” Peter says. “Look, we’re hanging out."

“Real quality time,” Tony huffs. “Us, a few other trapped members of the general public, and a handful of animatronic pirates. Drunk pirates. Repeating themselves.”

5 times tony forgot peter was just a kid, by @parkrstark

...and the 1 time he didn't.

Or the one where it was hard for Tony to remember that the kid fighting next to him was still just a kid.

can i get a good night’s sleep ? can i PLEASE get a good night’s sleep ?, by peterstank

The doors open and there’s Peter, perched on a gurney with his shirt gone and a whole lot of blood staining his side. He’s bent awkwardly, clearly trying to feel his way around whatever wound he’s got.

“Um,” Tony says, approaching, “What.”

Peter looks up and—yeah, he’s lost a lot more blood than Tony had originally thought. His face is completely fucking drained. “Hey,” he says, offering a jaunty wave before returning his attention to his side. “I got shot.”

“Oh!” Tony nods. “Oh, okay. What the fuck, kiddo?”

or: five times peter doesn’t sleep + the one time he does

Five Times Peter and Tony Had Each Other’s Back, by Sahiya

... and One Time They Needed Help.

Peter is Tony’s Biological Child

I Had the Dream Again, by Skeeter_110

Peter calls Tony in the middle of the night crying.

Congratulations, it’s a Boy, by capiocapi

"Sir, I have the results.”

“Okay, Jarvis. Hit me.”

“It’s a match. 99.9% chance that he is your biological son, which is the percentage needed to be recognized by law as a biological parent.”

Tony’s stomach did a funny swooping dance. “Great. Congratulations to me then, eh? It’s a boy.”

You Are My Sunshine, by @iamconstantine

Tony Stark had always been a man of science and he always would be. It was his personal and fundamental belief that everything had an explanation. His eventual encounters with Norse gods, alien life, and sorcerers did kind of quake this a little bit, but still.

One thing that had always confounded him as the one thing that had no scientific explanation was fate. Murphy’s law, Finagle’s law, the butterfly effect, the domino effect, the snowball effect, and the wisest of all: “Shit happens.”

So how peculiar was it that one of the greatest things to ever happen to him began with a tray of champagne?

Serie i love you more than anything, by @iron--spider

The highs and lows of Tony unexpectedly becoming a single dad at 31– from Peter’s early baby years, all the way past the defeat of Thanos

May’s abusive boyfriend trope

A Peter Parker Problem, by @spagbol99

Peter Parker was back from the dead. At least that is what everybody told him. He'd been snapped out of existence until some sort of time travel and an active death wish by his mentor had saved him and the universe. Just your average sort of life for a 16 year old from Queens.

Peter comes back to find May has a husband and a kid. A new family he has to fit into. But he has done it before, he can do it again.

The only thing that feels solid is Tony: the Blip and fatherhood have mellowed him and Peter loves the bond they have now. He knows Tony would be there for him through anything. But Tony needs to focus on his own recovery - not small time Peter Parker problems. When things at home take a turn for the worse, Peter decides that he'll handle it himself. He is Spider-man. He's been to space and fought aliens. He can get through anything. After all, if May is happy, he is happy, right? Right?

(again, I’ve read a lot more but can’t find it...)

Peter Parker Whump (everyone’s favorite trope)

Danger Pizza, by alice_in_ink

The window was pushed open, and Iron Man’s head popped into his bedroom. “Here’s where I’m confused—why lock the front door but leave the fire-escape-accessible windows unlocked?” He clambered through said window. “Seems like a safety hazard.”

Peter eyed the metal suit as it straightened to a standing position. “Did you break into my window to kill me?”

The face plate lifted, and Tony’s eyes quickly looked over the teen. “Christ, kid. It looks like you’re halfway there.”

...

A wild night on patrol leaves Peter with a broken back, and boy, does he want to be able to move without dying. (So he calls Anthony Stark, obviously.)

If You Can’t Catch A Breath (You Can Take The Oxygen Straight Out Of My Own Chest), by @losingmymindtonight

"And I would hurry. Little Peter is about to be under quite a lot of pressure, and it might get a little hard to breathe.”

I’ve Got You, by @thedumbestavenger

Peter runs into a Copycat Vulture out on patrol, from there, everything escalates.

Meetings and Migraines, by AllThingsGeeky

Peter has another migraine at an unfortunate time and despite his best efforts he can’t ignore it forever.

The Most Important Thing In The World, by S0lstice

Peter’s door creaked and began to bend under the force of the crowbar and for the first time since regaining consciousness, fear began to press into him. Something very bad was happening and it was happening fast - too fast for his sluggish mind to keep up.

He went with his instincts instead, the first one always being, Help Mr. Stark.

Friendly Fire, by @jolinarjackson

Finding a careful truce with the government, the “rogue Avengers” are allowed to return to the Compound where they are put under house arrest. Peter coming to spend one week at the Compound during his summer break couldn’t have come at a more inconvenient time as the opportunity to bond a little more with his mentor is overshadowed by a conflict he doesn’t quite understand. When he starts to develop a mysterious medical condition, however, the former team is forced to work together – not just to protect Peter’s identity from the DODC, but also to find the cause for his illness before it’s too late.

“He’s my kid,” Tony said, his voice hoarse. “He’s my kid and I failed him.” He covered his eyes and took a few deep, shuddering breaths. “All I ever do is fail him.” Natasha knelt down in front of him and cupped his face in her hands, waiting for him to meet her eyes before she said, “Right now, he doesn’t need you to fix this. He doesn’t need you down here. He needs you over there, in the medbay, by his side.” She thumbed tears from the corners of his eyes and ignored the ones running down her own face. “You haven’t failed him yet.”

alarm bells and panic levels, by @iron--spider

Tony lands heavy on the dock, the wood splintering hard under the metal suit. He’s having trouble breathing, his nose is bleeding, he most definitely has more than the recommended amount of broken ribs. But none of that fucking matters. The sky is clear, the assholes are down, but there’s one thing missing.

He looks over his shoulder when Rhodey lands too. His suit is dented in a few places but other than that he looks alright. His face mask flips up and Tony lets his mask retract.

“Where’s Peter?” Tony asks, his voice rough with the amount of yelling he’s been doing. Fuck these stupid assholes. They were supposed to go mini-golfing today. The kid had been looking forward to it for weeks.

Rhodey looks around, breathing hard through his mouth. “I thought you knew.”

there’s something wrong, by @iron--spider

“I’m sorry, Pete,” Tony whispers. “We should have checked you for something like this when we were resetting your arm and checking on the concussion. Goddamnit. We didn’t think.”

“He poisoned us both?” Peter asks, trying to open one eye to look at him.

“Yeah,” Tony says, brushing Peter’s hair back from his forehead. “He’s dying. He got the brunt of it, a nice fucking cocktail of bullshit, including mercury and a bunch of other toxic shit—”

“Am I dying?” Peter whispers, voice breaking.

Fitting In (Tiny Spaces), by aloneintherain

Peter's trapped beneath a collapsed building during a mission, hurt and unable to move. Luckily, his comm still works. Unluckily, the Avengers don’t realise how bad of a state Peter is in, and Peter isn’t inclined to tell them.

“Spidey, they’ve got reinforcements. We’ve hit a bit of a snag here, and I don’t think anyone will be able to help you for a while. Think you can sit tight while we deal with this?”

The pressure on his lower back and legs was becoming too much. Peter swallowed thickly, fighting down panic. He could handle this.

“Yeah,” Peter said. “I can do that.”

Collections/Series (’cause I could make an inventory of all @iron--spider stories, you know, but you have to read all of her work, if you haven’t yet) (God she doesn’t even know who I am)

iron dad bingo, by @iron--spider

stay at home, by @iron--spider

whumptober, by @iron--spider

Whumptober 2019, by @marvelous-writer

Day in the life of the Iron Family, by @marvelous-writer

The Tumblr Archives, by @losingmymindtonight

Everything comes back to you, by @losingmymindtonight

Nice work, kid, by @madasthesea

Irondad Bingo 2019, by sahiya

The Adventures of Spidy-son and Iron-dad, by eva7673

Tony adopts Peter (why everyone kills May, btw ?)

Accepting the Tides, by @emma--anacortes

Tony had dragged Peter from the depths of despair after May's death. It was normal that he'd grown to care a little about him, right?

Yeah, okay. He freaking loved the kid.

So naturally he would feel a little weird when Richard Parker randomly shows up in Peter's life. Naturally he'd feel protective, nervous, and confused because where has Richard been all this time? And why does Tony feel sick every time he sees him around Peter?

All he knows is if Richard hurts his kid, Tony's gonna give him hell.

Series Out of Darkness, by @starryknight09

“Is this Peter Parker?”

“Yes…”

“This is Dr. Nguyen. I’m sorry but your aunt’s been in an accident and we’re going to need you to come to Queens Memorial as soon as you can.”

Peter's life shatters with a phone call. The last person he expects helps him pick up the pieces.

#irondad #irondad spiderson #irondad fic #fic recs

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there-must-be-a-lock · 4 years ago

Text

Leave Your Boots By The Bed (SPN x BtVS)

Sam Winchester x Faith Lehane

Word Count: 7350

Warnings: It’s smutty! Samhandling, the jockey is MJ’s favorite sex position, lots of discussions of trust and consent, unprotected sex, rimming, spanking, hair pulling, and dom/sub themes. Wee bit o’ feelings but in a nice way with a happy ending. Mostly just a whole bunch of marathon, athletic, probably-not-OSHA-compliant banging.

A/N: This is the Sam/Faith side-quest (idk what else to call it) to Big Damn Heroes, but you don’t really need to read that to understand this. You can also read just the scene where these two meet over here.

This is my entry for @idabbleincrazy and her “What Do You Mean This Is Classic Rock?” Challenge! My prompt was “Girl All The Bad Guys Want,” by Bowling For Soup, which 100% gave me Faith vibes. It’s quoted/referenced a couple times in the story.

It’s also my (second) entry for @stusbunker’s Jam Basket fic exchange. This one’s for @thoughtslikeaminefield, who deserves the world on a silver platter. I cannot give her that, so instead I offer Faith smut. Thanks to @mskathywriteswords�� for prodding and lotion-related reality checks, and to @fangirlxwritesx67 for the read-throughs and for reassuring me that if I ever write Sam smut without a little psychoanalysis thrown in, she will worry about me.

Title from the Jason Isbell song “Cover Me Up,” which I listened to on repeat while writing certain chunks of this.

“What’s so funny?” Faith asks, looking at him sideways as they walk.

“I just told you I come from another universe and your response is ‘cool.’”

“Am I supposed to be impressed? I like it this way. No chance of you gettin’ all clingy.”

Sam laughs. “Fair enough.”

“Monsters, huh? You ever staked a vamp before?”

“Stakes don’t kill ‘em in my world. But… beheaded a few,” Sam says mildly.

“Yeah?” Her eyes sparkle. “So if we take the shortcut through the graveyard, you’re not gonna slow me down or get yourself killed?”

He gives her an unimpressed look. “What do you think?”

“Let’s go, then,” she challenges, pointing to the cemetery gate up ahead. “Bet I can dust more before we get to the other side.”

“You’re on.”

* * * * * * * * * *

“Heads up,” Faith shouts, and tosses him a stake. Sam whirls and punches it through the thing’s ribcage, sending dust swirling just in time to turn and watch Faith launch herself at another vamp.

“Is this where you take all your dates?” Sam wonders out loud, a little bit enthralled by the cocky grin on her face as she sends the vamp stumbling with one of those showy spin-kicks.

“This is not a date,” she snaps, between solid punches. The last hit decks the vamp, and she stakes him before he can hit the ground. She struts toward Sam, brushing dust from her skintight jeans with a Cheshire cat smile. “I like my job. Fuckin’ sue me.”

“Not complaining,” Sam says, sincerely. “Hottest thing I’ve seen in ages.”

She looks up at him suspiciously, like she thinks he’s making fun of her, and Sam lets her see the heat in his eyes. The grin is back, and she’s grabbing him by the lapels and rocking onto her tiptoes, swaying into him with a little sigh and a lot of confidence. Sam slides both hands into her hair and ducks down to kiss her, sucking on her lower lip and tasting waxy red.

Breathtakingly competent and moderately bitchy has always sorta been his type.

“We had a bet,” he points out, before crushing his mouth to hers again. She makes a sound like a purr and wrenches herself away, grabbing him by the wrist and making a beeline for the path.

“I’m gonna say we both won here,” she says decisively. “Let’s go.”

* * * * * * * * * *

She grabs him the second the lock slides into place, backing him against the door, already tugging at his belt. He yanks her jacket off her shoulders and she lets it fall, and then he grabs her by the belt loops, reeling her in until she’s pressed against him, hips flush to his as he slouches against the door. He bends to mouth at the long smooth line of her throat.

“Talk to me,” he says, nipping at her earlobe. She shivers.

“Fuck that,” she says hoarsely. “Didn’t bring you here to talk.”

“Don’t worry, I can multitask.” Sam nibbles at the curve where her neck meets her shoulder, working delicate skin between his teeth, and pops the button of her jeans. He slides a hand down, teasing her clit with his fingertips, and repeats: “Tell me what you like.”

“I like a lot less conversation and a whole lot more nudity,” Faith tosses back, but her voice is ragged, and she tilts her head to the side, baring her neck for his teeth. “I don’t fuckin’ know, dude, are we doing this or not?”

He bends just enough to scoop her up, and she goes with it, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck as he cups her ass with both hands. When he turns them around, slamming her back against the door and rolling his hips, Faith lets out a breathy sound of surprise.

He drags his open mouth up the side of her throat and repeats, “Talk to me.”

She pulls him up by the hair, forcing his head back, rough and perfect, and Sam moans against her lips as she kisses him. It’s more like a bite, all teeth and heat.

“Bedroom’s that way,” she says huskily.

She’s so strong, rock-solid where she’s wrapped around him, that it’s barely an effort to carry her through the small, spare living space. She’s got her hands in his hair and her teeth scraping his collarbone, and Sam grits his teeth against the sting as he kicks the door shut behind them.

“Get your fuckin’ clothes off already,” she rasps, tugging at his flannel, and he strips both his shirts off obligingly, leaning back against the wall to balance as he discards them without putting Faith down.

She lets go of his neck to help him, holding herself up with no support other than her abs and her thighs. Sam’s just as turned on by that casual display of strength as by the sight of bare skin — no bra — when she peels her tank top off. He hoists her a little higher, until he can flick his tongue over one hard pink nipple. He blows a stream of cool air over the sensitive skin and she shivers, thighs squeezing his sides as she arches her back.

“What do you want?” Sam whispers, and laves his tongue over the other nipple.

“Fuck, anything, you’re killin’ me here.”

“Anything?” He scrapes pebbled skin with his teeth, savoring the way she squirms.

“Want you naked. Now.” She twists out of his grasp like a cat, sliding down his front and landing gracefully on her feet. Gracefully but loudly, that is; she crouches to deal with her big chunky boots, and Sam toes off his own.

He grins down at her as she tugs on his belt, admiring the way her mouth looks: bright red from his teeth, now, with the last smudges of lipstick smeared down her chin.

Sam bats her hands away from his zipper. He picks her up before she can argue and tosses her bodily onto the bed, and she bounces on the mattress, her hair spilling across the sheet like a dark glossy halo. She lifts her hips to get her jeans off, her torso bowing up in a long elegant curve.

Neither of them hide the way they check each other out when the clothes are finally out of the way. Sam kneels on the bed, looking down at her, and she bites her lip, tracking the movement of his hand as he strokes himself lazily.

“Is this what you want?” he asks. “Ask for it.”

Her eyes sparkle, mischievous and defiant, and she moves so fast that Sam’s taken by surprise when she grabs him — he can’t remember the last time that happened to him, let alone in bed. She pulls him down on top of her and rolls them over, switching their positions, and Sam laughs breathlessly as she pins his wrists to the pillow on either side of his head.

“I don’t like takin’ orders,” she says smugly.

“Is that true?” Sam counters. “Or have you just never met anybody who knows how to give orders?”

She looks startled by that, but instead of responding, she straddles him — sinks down on him wet and tight and perfect — and Sam has to grit his teeth and close his eyes for a moment, adjusting to all that sudden slippery heat around him.

There’s a gratifyingly breathless note in her voice when she says, “Does it matter? Point is, I can take care of myself.”

She’s not fucking kidding about that part.

She arches into a spectacular back-bend, supporting herself with one hand and zero visible effort. Her other hand is between her legs, rubbing her clit hard and fast as she bucks her hips up in little jerky rocking movements — and there’s an image that will (hopefully) be seared into Sam’s memory until the day he dies. For a moment all he can do is watch and try to memorize it. Then he presses the heel of his hand into her lower belly, grinding into her as best he can, and she clenches around him, soaking and squeezing in pulses so intense it almost hurts as she comes with a rough, husky moan.

“This is gonna be fun,” Sam breathes, and he tugs her upright for one searing kiss before flipping her onto her stomach.

* * * * * * * * * *

When Sam offers to wash her hair, she reacts like he just proposed marriage, except instead of an engagement ring, he’d offered her a grenade pin — shock, disbelief, and more than a little fear.

“Please tell me this is a kinky thing,” she says warily, and Sam laughs, tilting his head back in the spray and sluicing water from his face with both hands. When he looks down at her again, she’s still got her lip curled and her defenses up.

“It’s not a kinky thing,” he says, rolling his eyes.

She can’t get far in the shower stall, but she turns her back to him, and Sam’s forcibly reminded of a cat, licking her paws dry after accidentally stepping in a puddle.

“I can wash my own damn hair. Shit, don’t get all touchy-feely on me.”

Sam’s had a lifetime of practice at remaining earnest in the face of someone who’s determined to pretend they don’t want his kindness. He knows better than to give up that easily.

“Come here,” he says, smoothing his hands up her sides. She doesn’t relax, exactly, but she doesn’t shy away. “Faith. Different universe, remember? Not a romantic thing. I just want to touch you.”

She takes a reluctant half-step back, settling against him without a word.

Sam squirts a dollop of shampoo into his palm, tilting her chin up so that her head falls back, and he massages her scalp with his fingertips, rubbing in firm circles.

“Keep your eyes closed for me,” he tells her quietly, maneuvering her into the spray, but he shields her face carefully with one hand as he starts to rinse the lather out, making sure the bubbles don’t go anywhere near the fan of her spiky-wet lashes. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah,” she croaks, barely audible under the sound of the water. “S’ not so bad.”

“Speaking of kinky things,” he says casually. “We should talk about that.”

“Yeah?”

“What do you like? What’s your safeword?”

“Safeword?” She snorts, dismissive. “What, you really think you could dish out somethin’ I couldn’t take?”

Sam clenches his jaw. He’s glad her back is to him so she can’t see the expression on his face right now.

There are no more bubbles in her hair, but he keeps running his hands through it, just to have something to do as he figures out how to say this.

“I don’t think there’s much you couldn’t take,” he tells her softly. “I think you might be the strongest woman I’ve ever met.”

“Damn straight,” she mutters, mollified.

Sam squeezes out some conditioner, finger-combing it through her hair.

“You don’t trust me,” he says. It’s not a question.

“Fuck no,” she replies promptly. “Why would I? Trust is something you gotta earn.”

Sam’s mouth twists into a smile. “Fair enough. But… it’s not about seeing how much you can take. It’s about you trusting me to stop, no questions asked, if you say that word. You want me to take control, I’ll do it. Believe me, I’m down. But not until you trust me. If you think you can do that, all you gotta do is ask. Okay?”

She takes a breath like she wants to say something, but she seems to think better of it. She lets out a sigh, looking at him — through him — and all he gets is a subdued, “Yeah, okay.”

Sam tilts her head back gently again, working his fingers through her hair until the little crease of a frown fades from her forehead. He turns her in his arms, cradling her against his chest, and she lets him, resting her cheek over his heart.

“Poughkeepsie.”

“Gesundheit.”

“Cute. It’s a city where I — I was in over my head, one time, and I needed help. That’s my safeword.”

She pulls back, looking up at him, confusion written all over her face. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I trust you.”

“Really?”

Sam shrugs. “If somebody offered you a lot of money to kill me, I’d sure as fuck be watching my back. But… as far as respecting boundaries? Here and now, just you and me? Yeah, I trust you completely.”

Faith stares, scanning his expression for a hint of a lie, but when she doesn’t find one, her eyes soften. Her lips curl briefly into a pleased little smile.

“Didn’t really take you for the submissive type.”

“I’m not.”

She cocks her head thoughtfully, gaze calculating, and prods, “Go on, then. You’re the one who wants to talk about everything.”

“No bodily fluids.”

“With you on that one. There’s good freaky fun and then there’s just freaky. What else? Bet you’d look real pretty tied to my bed.”

“No chains. Ropes, cuffs, that’s fine — no chains. Um.. pain isn’t a big deal. I’d rather you didn’t draw blood, but… as far as pain goes, don’t worry about pushing too far.”

“Tryna be a tough guy?”

“No. Just telling you the facts. Temperature play is a hard limit. Ice, especially.”

“Okay. So… if I wanted to blindfold you, tie you up, and ride your face for a while…”

“Works for me.” She gets out of the shower without another word, grabbing a towel, all business, and he laughs. “Somebody’s in a hurry.”

“You’ve got like sixty seconds before the hot water runs out and it gets all end-of-Titanic in there.” She flashes him a grin. “Also, yeah. Let’s go.”

* * * * * * * * * *

She pretends she’s asleep, for a while, but then she slips out of bed, and her bare feet don’t make a sound as she navigates the apartment in the dark. He hears the toilet flush, water run, then the creak of… something.

He gives her a minute to herself before he gets up, just as silent as she was, and follows the smell of smoke to the open window. She’s leaning on the sill, silhouetted by the filtered yellow light of street lamps, and when she takes a drag the orange ember flares in the dark.

“Jesus, fuckin’ scared the shit outta me,” she snaps. The Boston in her voice comes out strong when she’s startled. When she offers him the last bit of the cigarette he takes it, grabbing her wrist with the other hand, and throws it out the window as he pulls her close.

“Hey, I was smokin’ that,” she protests, voice crackly like there’s a popping fire down in her chest.

Sam traces the curve of her cheek. He brushes one curled knuckle back and forth over her lower lip and then drags the pad of his thumb over the pillow of it, watching the soft give as he presses down. Her tongue darts out to flicker over his thumb, but otherwise, she’s motionless.

Faith takes his wrist, holding his hand to her mouth, and swirls her tongue over the pad of his thumb. Then she slides his index and middle fingers into her mouth, sucking on them shamelessly. They slide from her lips with a wet pop. A bolt of heat thuds through Sam’s gut — he’s only human.

“I like your hands,” she purrs, with one last suggestive lick.

“Something in particular you want me to do with them?” he asks.

She hesitates and presses a kiss to the center of his palm before answering: “I bet you have some ideas.”

“Tell me what you want, Faith.”

For a second there’s a deer-in-headlights vulnerability in her huge dark eyes, and she can’t hide the slight frown that flickers across her face.

“Why do you keep asking me that?” she whispers. She’s still holding his wrist. Sam twists to lace his fingers through hers instead, letting their joined hands drop palm-to-palm.

“Because sex isn’t fun for me unless everybody’s getting what they want. Call me crazy, but…”

“I brought you here, didn’t I? You know I want it. That’d be good enough, for most guys. Believe me, if you do somethin’ I don’t like, I’ll tell you about it.”

Sam closes his eyes, thinking of a half-dozen possible answers to that question. He considers telling her about Meg and Gadreel and all the other things that have slithered in over the years and used his body without his permission. He feels a phantom pain in his palm and remembers Lucifer’s taunt — you let me in — and he considers telling her about why he can’t stand the feel of ice or the rattle of chains.

He settles for the most fundamental answer: “Because you deserve to get what you want. You deserve better than ‘good enough.’”

She digests that silently for a moment, and then she guides his hand firmly to her hip, before grabbing the other and placing it flat on her breastbone.

“Just… touch me?” she asks, and Sam smiles, shifting closer, running his hands over her skin: fingertips in the dip of her throat, thumb stroking her collarbone, palm sweeping up and down her side, gentle and deliberately innocent.

“Why does it bother you so much when I ask?” he says softly.

She grimaces, and for a second it looks like she’ll brush it off, make a joke of it.

“Not used to it, I guess. Most guys don’t ask. I think guys look at me, they make some assumptions, you know?”

“Such as?”

She shrugs. “Guess they figure I’m down for anything.”

“Faith.”

“Don’t. Anyway, it’s more than that. Most people, they only offer to give you something if they want something in return.”

“What do you think I want from you?”

“That’s what’s got me spun out. Figured you just wanted a great lay, but… you’re still here.” She drops her gaze. “Bein’ all sweet and shit.”

Sam tries to hide his smile. “Should I not be?”

“Can’t figure you out,” Faith mumbles. “You’re different.”

Sam thinks about that for a moment as he folds to his knees in front of her. He drags his mouth down the center of her chest, tasting salt, and nips at the soft skin under her belly-button.

“How do you mean?” He looks up at her again, holding eye contact as he traces her hipbone with his tongue.

“I’m not the kinda chick that sweet guys usually go for, you know?” She slides her fingers through his hair, tugging lightly, and Sam hums his approval. “The nice ones know better. I’m the girl all the bad guys want.”

“That seems a bit reductive, don’t you think?”

“See, shit like that. Your mouth’s an inch away from my pussy and you’re using words like reductive.”

“I just want you. All of you, not just the ‘nice’ parts or the shit you show most guys.”

“Might not be saying that if — oh. Do that again.”

“Faith, trust me when I say that whatever you’ve done, I’ve done worse.”

“Jesus, can we talk about this later?”

“What do you want?”

“Want you to get your ass back in bed and quit teasing, for starters.”

“I can do that.”

* * * * * * * * * *

“The fuck did you find in the fridge?” Faith asks hoarsely.

“Beer and pickles,” he says, glancing over his shoulder with a grin.

She’s leaning against the frame of the bedroom door, wearing his flannel and nothing else. It’s open, baring a long slice of pale skin, from the dip between her breasts and down her stomach to a neat trail of dark hair. She looks like a centerfold, but rumpled and sleepy-eyed and real, human, in a way that makes it so much hotter.

“You went out.” She frowns at the front door.

“Are you surprised I came back?”

“Honestly? Not really.” Sam hides his smile at that answer. “Except that door’s supposed to lock automatically.”

“It does. I picked the lock.”

“Anything you can’t do?” Faith comes over and hoists herself up onto the counter next to him, eyeing the pan of bacon eagerly.

“Never been good at walking in heels.” Sam passes her the extra large to-go cup of dark roast he’d gotten her from the local coffee place, and she grins.

“Shit, you really know how to spoil a girl.”

Sam puts a hand on her bare thigh, thumb running back and forth idly as he takes her in, tracing the shape of her body with his eyes. She gives him a raised eyebrow and sips her coffee quietly. There’s none of the wariness or put-on swagger from last night. She just seems comfortable.

“No bruises,” he says, hand sliding up higher, finding nothing but unblemished skin where he knows he left marks. Every imprint of Sam’s teeth and hands and hipbones has melted away.

“Slayer healing.” She leans back on her palms, inviting him to touch more. Sam pulls his hand away — pancakes to flip — but he smirks.

“That’s a shame. They looked good on you.”

Faith’s eyes go dark. “Yeah?”

“I’ll just have to leave some more… later. Breakfast is ready.”

Faith eats with an indecent enthusiasm that reminds him of Dean, but somehow that doesn’t surprise him. Which… speaking of Dean — Sam borrows her cell as they’re finishing breakfast, because apparently other universes aren’t included in his roaming service, and a sleepy female voice picks up.

“Faith?”

“Sam, actually. Is my brother around?”

“Sam? Did you… you and Faith?” Buffy’s voice goes a little squeaky at the end. Then there’s indistinct scuffling.

Faith swipes her index finger through the maple syrup that’s left on her plate, sucking it clean, hollowing her cheeks in a way that’s pretty fucking distracting.

“Sammy?”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Hey. You didn’t even notice I was gone, did you?”

“Where are you? Who’s Faith?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Sam says. “Did Charlie fix the thing?”

“Uh, hang on.” There’s a muffled conversation on the other line.

Faith gets up, walking around the table to pick up Sam’s plate, her movements slinky and deliberate, her hips swaying, showing off tantalizing glimpses of skin as his flannel skims the curves of her body. He twists around to watch her go. Faith sets both plates in the sink and stretches, and the flannel rides up her thighs.

“Pretty sure Charlie’s not awake yet either,” Dean says. “Late nights all around. Go team. Should we save you some breakfast?”

“No, I’m busy.”

Dean is saying something, but Sam’s not really paying attention. Faith is leaning on the table, bent at the waist, the flannel riding up to expose the lower curve of her ass. Sam turns in his chair to raise an eyebrow at her, pointedly adjusting himself in his jeans. She smirks like the cat who got the cream.

“Just call this number when you need me, Dean,” Sam says abruptly, cutting him off. “See you later.” He hangs up before Dean can get a protest in.

She bats her eyelashes, sugary-sweet. “Sorry, did I distract you?”

“Don’t lie. You’re not sorry at all.” Sam shakes his head, mock-scolding, and gives her a light tap, mostly to watch the way her flesh jiggles just right under his hand.

She grins, wiggling her hips and spreading her legs a little wider. “If you’re gonna do it, do it like you mean it.”

There’s a long, weighted pause.

“Are you asking me for —”

“Fuck yes I am.”

“Faith…”

She’s quiet but sincere when she says, “I trust you.”

Sam exhales sharply, and because she looks nervous, now, he quips, “Should’ve known bacon would do the trick.” She laughs at that and relaxes, so he stands up slowly and asks, “Safeword?”

“Dorchester.”

Sam smiles — equal parts amused by the word choice and touched by the trust. He runs a hand down her back and then up again, taking the soft fabric with him, rucking it up. He takes his time, drawing it out to watch the way she pouts, positioning himself behind her and flattening a palm between her shoulderblades to push her down. She braces herself on her forearms.

“Good girl.”

“Well?”

“Be patient.”

“Fucking hit me already,” she says sulkily.

“You can have anything you want,” he promises her, and he grabs a handful of hair, yanking her head back. “You just have to ask for it. Politely.”

He hears the way she sucks in a breath, ragged and desperate, and he smiles.

“Please spank me. Hard.”

“Good girl,” he repeats. He steps back and squeezes before smacking her, nowhere near hard enough to hurt.

“C’mon, is that the best you’ve got?” she teases, laughing.

“You know it’s not.” He brings his hand down with a satisfying sound, and Faith groans.

“Harder,” she grits out.

The next one makes her cry out, ragged and ecstatic. He hits her again, hard enough that his palm smarts, wrist snapping precisely so that the blows are spaced just right across her ass and her upper thighs.

By the time he pauses again she’s panting harshly. He takes a second to admire her, the pretty shade of red blossoming on her pale skin and the way she’s arching her back, putting herself on display for him.

“Fuck, you look good like this.” He kicks her feet farther apart and traces up her center with two callused fingertips. “So wet already, aren’t you?”

She tries to push back into it, to fuck herself on his fingers as she whimpers, “More?”

He lets loose, brings his palm down with a vicious crack, and he can see the way her legs start to shake.

“Shit, do you have any idea what you do to me?” He leans forward, grinding against her, letting her feel how hard he is through his jeans, and when he pulls back again she moans. Her skin is hot to the touch. He runs his fingers over it teasingly before sliding two fingers into her cunt, curling them, pumping and twisting as Faith curses and clenches around him.

“Need you,” she pants. “More.”

“Let me hear you,” he says. He pulls his fingers out and spanks her again, and she shudders, head bowed, pussy glistening wet.

“Please fuck me,” she breathes. He’s reaching for his belt before she gets the word out.

“Since you asked so nicely.”

He rubs the head of his cock through her slickness, teasing, and when she tries to push back, his shaft slides between her lips, dragging along her clit. He bites back a groan and plants his left hand solidly at the base of her neck, forcing her to drop down with her cheek to the table, holding her in place.

“Shit,” she snaps. “Fuckin’ give it to me.”

“What did I say?”

“Want to feel that big thick cock, please,” she says. He can hear the wicked edge in her voice. “Want to feel you fillin’ me up when I come. Just fucking wreck me, Sam. Hold me down and make me scream… please.” She pauses and then asks smugly, “Fuckin’ polite enough for you?”

She could recite a grocery list in that ragged, raspy voice and it’d probably turn him on, at this point; as it is, he feels dizzy from sudden lack of bloodflow to his brain.

“We gotta work on those manners,” he says softly, and pushes into her, just a couple inches, before sliding out again. She whines.

He does it over and over again — one torturously shallow thrust after another — working her open with little rocking motions that are nowhere near enough. She whimpers, and he watches, clocking every shudder that runs up her spine, every involuntary quiver as he fucks into her a little deeper, slick spreading up the flushed-dark length of his cock with each stroke.

It takes every last shred of his self-control, but he forces himself to move slowly, deliberately, until she’s dripping wet and slamming her fists into the table.

Finally, she caves, sobbing two syllables like they’re the only words she remembers: “Please — Sam — please — Sam — please —”

“That’s better,” he sighs, and grabs her by the hips, shifting until he finds the spot that makes her twitch and squirm. She quakes when he hits it dead-on, and he sets an unrelenting pace, fucking her so hard the table hammers against the wall, a rapid-fire counterpoint to her broken, drawn-out cries.

Faith bucks helplessly as she comes, and Sam lets go a split-second later, half collapsing forward as he grinds into her one last time. He braces himself with both palms flat on the wood, and his knees threaten to give out.

His first coherent thought is amazement that the table is still standing, and while he’s trying to remember how to speak, Faith mumbles, “Shit, can’t believe we haven’t broken any furniture yet.” Sam laughs so unexpectedly he almost chokes, and maybe it’s contagious, because Faith starts giggling too.

Sam maneuvers them onto one of the chairs in a messy pretzel of sweat and skin and half-discarded clothes. A surge of pure giddy affection swells in his ribcage, and he wraps his arms around her, squeezing tight, tickling her with his stubble against her neck until she shrieks and twists.

Faith turns her head at an awkward angle to kiss him. Then she mumbles, “Is there more bacon? I could go for more bacon.”

“Anything you want.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Faith stretches extravagantly as she gets up from the opposite end of the couch, and his flannel slips off her shoulders. She lets it fall as she pads over to the fridge.

“Have I mentioned today how good you look naked?” Sam asks.

She pulls two bottles of beer from the fridge and strikes a goofy, mock-sexy pose. “No, but go right ahead.”

“You look really fucking good naked.”

“Not so bad yourself.” She passes him a bottle and sprawls out with her legs draped across his lap. “Why’d you put your clothes back on, anyway?”

“Hot bacon grease and nudity isn’t a good combo. Trust me.”

“Sounds like the voice of experience talking there.”

“Not personal experience,” Sam says with a smirk. “Dean, though…”

She laughs. He tosses the last bite of bacon at her, and she catches it in her mouth.

“Not cooking any more though, are you?” she asks archly.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” He obliges, though, stripping unceremoniously, and Faith catcalls. She crawls into his lap when he sits back down, leaning in for a kiss that tastes like beer.

“Much better,” she says quietly, pressing her forehead to his.

“Really thought I might’ve tired you out there.”

“Honestly? Yeah, I need a minute,” she confesses, with a laugh. “Just wanted some eye candy.”

“At your service.”

She settles a little more comfortably in his lap, straddling him, and they exchange slow, lazy kisses. Sam can’t bring himself to stop kissing her. Her lips are soft and plush, and every brush of her tongue and nip of her teeth feels like a luxury, like something he should treasure, because he knows this intimacy has an expiration date.

They stare at each other for a long moment, sweet and almost shy.

Sam offers, “Want to watch a soap opera on mute and make up our own dialogue?”

Her dimples really show when she’s surprised to find herself smiling. She grabs their beers and the remote from the milk crate that serves as her coffee table, raising her bottle in a toast, and then she curls up at Sam’s side, naked and soft and bruised. She fits under his arm like she was meant to be there.

It’s the happiest Sam can remember being in a long time.

Normal, he thinks. This is what normal people do — breakfast and kisses on the couch — tenderness and softness and quiet everyday vulnerability.

Then again, neither of them are normal, not really. Maybe that’s why Sam feels so comfortable with her.

* * * * * * * * * *

This time, she passes him the shampoo without a word, sighing as he cradles the back of her skull with one hand and smooths the hair back from her forehead with the other. When he’s finished, hazy honey-colored eyes blink up at him slowly, like she’s coming out of a trance. It’s a dizzying change from the last time they did this.

They haven’t said goodbye yet and he already misses her — misses this — but he knows he’s lucky to have it for a moment, however brief.

The scalding water feels like heaven on his sore muscles. Sam tilts his head to the side, trying to stretch, and his neck makes a series of popping noises. Faith winces in sympathy.

“Shit, man,” she chuckles. “You sound like Rice Krispies.” She maneuvers around him in the narrow space, reaching up to dig her knuckles into one of his many knots. Sam groans, exaggeratedly pornographic.

Her hands are small, but strong, and Sam’s melting under her palms, increasingly loose-limbed and pliant as she works her thumbs in circles down the muscles on either side of his spine.

“We should get out of here before I forget how to stand up,” he mutters, and Faith laughs. “I think it’s your turn.”

“I like the sound of that.”

She lays herself out on the bed, stomach down, and Sam takes a moment to stare. The way she’s put together — sleek muscle and lush curves under creamy skin — is like art. If she was anyone else, Sam might call her delicate, but he knows better; he knows exactly what she can do. She’s a hurricane disguised as a porcelain doll.

He looks down at his own rough fingers, thickly callused from pencils and triggers and punches, and grabs a bottle of lotion from the dresser before he settles on the bed, straddling her hips. His hands seem massive on her shoulders, and when he drags his palms down, wrapping his fingers around the slim curve of her waist, he marvels at the way she almost fits in the circle of his grasp.

He loses himself in the pleasure of just touching her — in the glide of silky skin under his fingers — in the soft grunts and hums she lets out when he works his fingers into a particularly tight knot. He sweeps his thumbs down the pretty little dimples at the small of her back and then lower, caressing and kneading. He’s careful to avoid pressing on the dappled purple-red bruises from earlier, but he skims them appreciatively, feather-light.

“Do those hurt?” he whispers.

“Little bit. I like it.”

He was already half-hard, aroused in a distant, lazy sort of way, but his dick twitches at that.

He brushes his fingertips down the outsides of her thighs, then up the insides, watching the way she spreads her legs wider for him, but he stops just short of the apex, tracing out along the creases where her ass meets her legs instead.

This feels like a form of worship.

Sam bends to press his mouth to the small of her back, kissing one dimple then the other. He trails sweet open-mouthed kisses down the curve of her ass, lips dragging reverently over velvety skin, licking and sucking along the tops of her thighs, drinking in the way she whimpers and shivers.

“More?” she murmurs.

Sam hooks an arm around her, sliding his forearm under her hips to cant them up so he can lick a thick stripe right up her center, swiping his tongue down and up again with a slick slurping noise. The angle isn’t comfortable but it’s fucking hot; it feels like he’s completely surrounded by her, like this, and when he licks deeper, fucks her shallowly with his tongue, the taste of her arousal floods his senses, until the soapy-clean smell of freshly-showered skin is lost under salty-sweet musk and Sam’s mouth and chin are a mess of slick and spit.

She’s trembling as she repeats, “More.”

He drags his tongue in one broad swipe from her clit up between her ass cheeks, and she curses, pressing back against his mouth. He twists two fingers into her cunt, feeling her clamp down around his scarred knuckles and shudder under his mouth, a frisson of pleasure that travels all the way up her spine. He curls his tongue against tight muscle and crooks his fingers, circles her swollen clit with his thumb, and she muffles a sharp cry into the pillow as she comes.

“More — please — Sam?” she gasps, still clenching around him, so wet he can hear the sound of his fingers pumping into her one last time.

He slides on top of her, blanketing her body with his, kissing the nape of her neck as he presses into her. She reaches back and fists a hand in his hair, making a rough wordless noise that sounds like a question, and her fingers twist until his scalp stings and Sam groans. He sits up, straddling her legs, and his entire body throbs with the pulse of blood in his cock as he fucks her. With her legs together like this, pinned under him, she feels so impossibly tight — velvety-soft and steely all at once — he can barely see straight.

She’s crying out with every gasping breath: “More — please.”

Sam wonders what he could do if he could learn her body, learn what she likes, learn how to take her apart in seconds or draw it out until she’s a writhing mess… if he had just a little more time with her.

* * * * * * * * * *

Faith is wrecked and gorgeous on top of him, not riding him so much as undulating: deep scooping twists of her hips, rising and falling syrupy-slow like she’s moving underwater. There’s dark sweat-soaked hair clinging to her temples and a hazy-eyed, rosy-cheeked expression of bliss on her face. Sam watches a droplet of sweat trickle down between her breasts.

He’s losing his grip on time and the boundaries that used to sit so decisively between them. They’re both exhausted to the point that everything seems a little surreal, dreamy, right in that sweet spot where they might be too tired to come again but languid, sensual sex still feels amazing.

“So fucking perfect,” he whispers. “Just like that.”

Faith tilts forward to kiss him, melting against his chest as she rolls her hips. He wraps her up in his arms and flips them, still inside her, still twined around her. He rocks into her, testing one angle and then another, hitching her leg up higher around his waist, grinding and swiveling until he finds the angle that makes her choke out a curse and clutch at his biceps.

“There,” she whimpers.

Heat starts to pool low in his gut, building slowly but inevitably. He leans down to kiss her, tasting salt, mouths brushing clumsily between deep ragged breaths.

“Gorgeous like this.”

“Sam,” she says helplessly, in the shredded whisper that’s left of her voice. “This — you —“

“I’ve got you, it’s okay. I know.”

Neither of them are particularly coherent, but he knows.

Gold rays of sun slant through the blinds in stripes, illuminating the amber in her irises and the suspicious shine gathering in the corner of her eyes. She smiles up at him in a way that leaves him breathless. It takes him by surprise, the trust in her expression and the heaviness in the moment, and he knows she can feel it too.

Sam wants to shy away from it, but he can’t take his eyes off her.

“Where’s that Al Green soundtrack when you need it, huh?” she manages, and it shocks a breathless laugh out of Sam. Faith giggles too, choked-up and overtired and hoarse. Sam can feel her laugh, feels the rippling clench of wet-hot muscle around him; his body reacts with this gut-punch of arousal, and he snaps his hips, driving in deep. She lets out a rough moan and writhes under him, raking her nails down his back.

From there it builds fast, wild and uncontrollable and blinding, both of them clawing at each other, moving on pure animalistic instinct, lost in each other — lost in the moment. It’s the sort of orgasm that hits like a blackout, like Sam’s out of his body for a few seconds that might as well be an eternity.

When he comes to, he’s whispering nonsense into the sweat-slick crook of her neck — babbling endearments, calling her baby — saying sweet stupid things she would never accept if she was in her right mind, but she doesn’t argue; he’s grateful. In return, Sam pretends not to notice the tears sparkling in her eyelashes.

They’re not sad tears, he knows that much. She’s beaming up at him, all this messy pure human happiness shining in her eyes. She’s beautiful.

Eventually they stop shaking, and Sam whispers, “Nap?”

“Yeah.”

She tucks herself under his chin, and he strokes her hair, counting the breaths before she drops off. She’s asleep in ten, and Sam loses count at eleven.

* * * * * * * * * *

They’re woken in disorienting darkness by a jangling ringtone, and Sam’s immediate instinct is to grab the gun he keeps under his pillow. There’s no gun, though — just a warm naked girl draped over him, cursing like a sailor as the phone continues to ring — because there’s no need for a gun here.

Faith answers the phone by growling a suggestion that sounds anatomically improbable, and Sam hears Dean’s gruff baritone on the other end. He snatches the phone out of her hand.

“S’the middle of the fucking night, Dean,” he grumbles.

“Dude, it’s nine. When was the last time you were asleep by nine?”

“Fuck.” He knuckles at his eyes and fights the urge to hang up, turn the phone off, and burrow under the sweat-soaked sheets to sleep until he actually feels rested for once. “Yeah, okay, be there soon.”

Sam is about to apologize for waking Faith, but she sits up too, switching on the lamp, looking around bleary-eyed.

“Gonna walk with you as far as the graveyard,” she says, through a yawn. “Vamps don’t take a night off.”

Sam feels like he got hit by a goddamn truck, sore and achy all over, but the exhaustion goes much deeper than that. In spite of it, he’s smiling as they dress.

They’re quiet, nothing but a soft, “You see my other sock?” interrupting the heavy silence. They don’t touch as they leave the dark apartment and head down the dingy stairwell into the warm California night, and they don’t talk. They’re pulling themselves together — rebuilding the walls that separate them from normal people — putting on the emotional armor that allows them to fight the battles they have to fight.

They don’t wander away from the path through the cemetery, this time, and the monsters don’t find them. When they reach the gate on the other side, Faith stops.

“You know how to get back from here?”

“Yeah.” He pulls her in by her jacket to kiss her, deep and bruising.

She pulls away enough to mutter, “Fuckin’ figures you’re from another goddamn universe.”

“If things were different —”

“They’re not, though,” Faith says, smiling ruefully. “And that’s for the best.”

“Probably wouldn’t end well, would it? ”

“We’d never get outta bed, the monsters would take over. Every universe needs its heroes, right?”

“Right.” Sam cradles her face in his hands to give her another soft kiss and says, “Take care of yourself.”

Faith steps back. “Always do.”

She turns, pulling a stake out of her jacket as she stalks away, off the path toward the darker corners of the graveyard. Sam watches her go.

She doesn’t look back, but before she’s out of earshot, she shouts, “Quit starin’ at my ass and go save the world already. You’ve got work to do.”

Sam laughs, and then he rolls his eyes and starts walking, smiling to himself. She’s not wrong.

#1kclassicrockchallenge #sam winchester fic #sam winchester #faith lehane #btvs #spn #supernatural #spn x btvs #supernatural x buffy the vampire slayer #crossover fic #sam winchester x faith lehane

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cinnamon-roll-seth · 5 years ago

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Happy Medium (Part Two) || Rafe Cameron x Maybank!Reader

Part One

Request: hi! um this is oddly specific but i had this idea so... can you possibly do an imagine where rafe and the reader are dating and rafe is like super super sweet (and she makes him a better person🥺), but the reader is also jjs sister and he gets really mad when he finds out about the relationship bc he is really protective of her, but at a party or something a touron messes with the reader and rafe sticks up for her so jj starts to come around to the idea of their relationship

“Babe come on. It’s your birthday, you have to have a party!” Rafe pleaded, pacing around his room as you laid on his bed reading some fashion magazine Sarah had given you.

“No I don’t. Lots of people don’t have parties on their birthdays.”

“Y/N you’ve had a party for your birthday every single year since like forever. It’s how I had your birthday memorized even before we started dating.”

“Yeah and no offense but most of those parties ended up getting ruined by kooks. Besides, it’s not like JJ or any of my friends will even be there so what’s the point.”

“But the kooks wouldn’t be there to ruin it this time. Please, just let me throw you a fun party for your birthday. It’ll take your mind off everything that’s been going on. You can get wasted off your ass and I’ll stay sober to take care of you.”

“Promise?” You ask, looking up from the magazine.

“Promise,” He grins.

“Fine. But I require fruity drinks that are going to taste like pure sugar but still get me fucked up after like five sips. Beer is getting really old.”

“Of course. Anything for you Sunshine. Hey I gotta go meet up with Topper and Kelce about something. I’ll be back in an hour, you good to stay here?”

“Yeah. Rose was gonna teach me how to make some Greek meal that she learned how to make when she visited there, since I’m always saying I want to go.”

“Alright well, have fun. I’ll see you in a bit,” He leans down to plant a kiss on your forehead before disappearing out his bedroom door.

“Oh hell no,” JJ growls, seeing Rafe standing on the porch in front of him.

“Wait,” Rafe sticks his foot out and stops him from closing the door, “Please JJ, it’s important.”

“What the hell do you want? I thought I made it clear that I don’t want you hear. Leave.”

“Y/N‘s birthday is in two days. I’m throwing a party and I want you and the other three to come. She’s been having a really tough time these past couple weeks and I know she’d be happy if you guys came.”

“A party at your kook house surrounded by other kooks, yeah not interested. Didn’t think Y/N would ever be interested either but I guess you got your claws deeper than I thought. I trust you’ll tell her happy birthday from me?”

“Okay dude, what is your goddamn problem? I get it, you don’t like me, but Y/N is your sister. You’re supposed to be there for her but no. Instead of supporting her and being happy that she’s happy you and your friends have all been complete assholes towards her. You guys have cut off all contact and have completely alienated her because you all have too much pride and hatred for kooks to accept that she’s in a relationship with one. I’ve sat and watched for two goddamn weeks as she’s been borderline depressed, struggling with the fact that you all have disowned her. You know you guys think we’re the bad guys but you have stooped so low as to treat one of your own like complete shit simply because she fell in love with one of us. This isn’t fucking Romeo and Juliet, get over yourselves. We’re not having the party at my house, it’ll be on the beach because I know she’ll be most comfortable there. And for your information, she didn’t even want to party. I begged her to let me throw her one so I wouldn’t have to watch her be sad on her own birthday. I came here to ask you if you’d come because I know it would make her happy but if you’re going to show up acting like that then don’t bother. Goodbye JJ,” Rafe rants angrily, stepping back to exit the porch while leaving your brother standing in the open doorway in shock.

“Jesus you look beautiful,” Rafe grins, watching as you do a little spin in the party dress he’d bought you. You told him not to but he insisted and who were you to tell him no.

“Stop, you’re making me blush,” You laugh.

“As you should be because you look gorgeous. You ready to go? I told everyone to start showing up at six.” You nod and he grabs your hand, dragging you out of his room.

When you get to the beach the sun is just starting to set and the beach is already packed. You and Rafe walk through the crowd, searching for Kelce and Topper, who were in charge of protecting your girly alcohol. You clutch your boyfriend’s hand, overwhelmed by the amount of people you don’t even know shouting happy birthday at you.

“Yo Y/N! Happy birthday! Don’t worry, we got the good stuff!” Kelce shouts as you near the pair of boys, handing a bottle of pink lemonade UV out towards you. (A/N: Fun fact, I got waisted off of Pink Lemonade UV on my 18th birthday and ended up puking all over my aunt. Good times lmao. Drink responsibly kids.)

“What, no mixer?” You ask, taking the bottle from him.

“Oh we got that covered,” Topper replies, holding up an old milk jug full of some pink liquid. Pink Lemonade probably, it’s a good thing that’s your favorite drink.

“Well thank you boys. I’m honored,” You smile, pouring a generous amount of alcohol into your plastic cup, followed by some of the pink lemonade.

You continue to hang out with Rafe and the boys, drinking, laughing, and just genuinely goofing around. While pouring your fifth drink you look up and watch as a familiar group of pogues walk along the beach, through the crowds of people.

“What the hell are they doing here?” You ask Rafe, pointing towards them.

“I asked them to come. I figured you’d like it if they came. With the way JJ reacted I didn’t actually expect them to show.” He replies, looking shocked to see them.

“Can you hold this for a minute? I’ll be right back.” You give him a reassuring smile while he takes your drink.

You head for your brother and friends, planning to confront them, until a random touron steps in front of you, blocking your view. He must’ve already been there for awhile, as he’s clearly wasted off of his ass.

“Damn girl, where you headed to?” He slurs as you gently trying to brush past him.

“I- um- can you just let me by please?” You ask politely.

“Now hang on a minute,” He grabs your shoulders, “Just stay a minute. You know, you’re one of the hottest chicks I’ve ever seen.”

“Thank you, but I have a boyfriend. Now can you please move?” You ask again, more insistent this time.

“What a shame. Surely he’d be okay with sharing though. I mean sharing is caring, right?” He looks up and down your body hungrily, making you shiver in disgust.

“No. Get off me.”

“Don’t be so mean. I’m only trying to have fun,” He leans in so you can feel his breath on your neck. You try to squirm away but he’s clutching your shoulders so tightly that you’re stuck in place. You whimper at the pain his death grip is causing. His lips barely make contact with your skin before he’s harshly shoved off and you watch in a blur as Rafe pins him to the ground and begins to punch him repeatedly.

You blink back tears as Sarah runs up to you and wraps her arms around you comfortingly. From the other side of the fight you see your friends staring at you with wide eyes, clearly they’d just witnessed that entire thing. Rafe doesn’t stop beating on the guy and nobody really does anything to try to stop him anyway. Blood splatters the sand as he screams angrily in the boys face.

“Rafe stop! You’ll kill him!” Sarah yells finally as the guy begins coughing and choking on his on blood. She turns to you softly, so nobody but the two of you can hear, “Y/N you have to tell him to stop. He won’t listen to anybody but you.”

“R-Rafe. Baby, please stop.” You plead softly. Immediately your boyfriend stops and stands so that he’s standing over the injured touron.

“Don’t you EVER lay a hand on a woman without her consent ever again. Now leave or I will fucking kill you,” He spits, watching as the bloodied boy scrambles up off the ground and limps away.

Everyone starts going back to their partying, bored as the fight has ended. Rafe walks towards you and pulls you out of Sarah’s arms and into his own, petting your hair soothingly.

“I’m sorry you had to see that. Baby, I’m so so sorry.” He whispered comfortingly.

“It’s okay,” You tell him honestly. You were a bit shaken up but you felt so much better the second you were in Rafe’s arms.

“Y/N,” JJ says cautiously, stepping towards you.

“Look man. She’s already dealt with enough crap in one night so if you’re gonna get on her ass about being with me then just go away.” Rafe tells him but JJ shakes his head.

“No. I- uh- I came to apologize. Y/N, I’m so ashamed of how I acted. You told me that you were dating Rafe and I just, I just lost my shit. But you’re my sister and no matter what I should always support you and be there for you. These past few weeks I’ve been a horrible brother and I feel so shitty. It’s just that after years of getting the shit beaten out of me by him I didn’t want to believe that you were actually dating him. I felt a little betrayed. These past two weeks I’ve expected you to walk through the door telling me you’d made a mistake, begging for my forgiveness. I was only thinking about myself. I didn’t think about your happiness and I’m so sorry.”

“JJ I don’t know what to say. You abandoned me. You turned all my friends against me. You made me feel like a bad person for being happy.” You reply softly.

“I was angry. Anger does horrible things Y/N and I’m not proud of it but I’ll admit that I got those anger issues from Dad. I know that I can never take back how I treated you these past two weeks but I want to make it up to you. Please Y/N, I know it might take awhile but I’m willing to do whatever it takes until you forgive me.” He pleads. You’d never seen JJ Maybank beg for anything in his life until now.

“What about Rafe? I know you don’t like him and I’m not going to stop dating him.”

He turns to your boyfriend, “I still hate you...but I’ll tolerate you. Seeing how you protected my sister tonight and listening to how you talked about her the other day I know you love her. That’s all I ever wanted for Y/N, for her to be happy and loved. Maybe someday I won’t dislike you so much but for now can we just agree to get along for her sake?”

Rafe nods his head, “Happy medium?”

“Happy medium.”

Taglist (I hope I didn’t forget anybody 🥺)- @butterfliesinthenightsky @copper-boom @khiaraaa-in-spacee @n1ghtsh4d3-67 @jj-maybabe @ilovejjmaybank @starrystarkey93 @outerbanx96 @delinquentstarkey @justcallmesams @starkeysgirl @yeslifeofateen @frankiebcanon @tovvaf

#outer banks #outer banks imagine #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron #obx rafe #drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #rafe cameron x reader #obx requests #requests are closed #multifandom #multifandom imagines #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank #obx jj

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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years ago

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Survey #371

“some of those that work forces are the same that burn crosses”

What is one song you feel as though you sing particularly well, if any? Probably none, lol. What was the last lengthy task you completed? I love these unique questions I've had lately, but damn, are a lot of my answers "I don't know," lol. What type of photography do you enjoy looking at? Do you take any photos yourself, and if so, what types of things do you prefer to photograph? I love floral and wildlife photography. Landscapes, too, and I have a great fondness for boudoir for reasons I've mentioned in previous surveys. I like taking nature pictures, mainly. Have you ever gone out for the Black Friday shopping rush? Did you enjoy it, or not so much? Or, what’s the busiest shopping day you’ve ever experienced? Hell no, that's a hard pass. I'm sure the busiest shopping experience I've had was like at the mall or something around Christmas, idk. Do you enjoy reading diaries or stories you wrote from when you were younger, or does it embarrass you? If you’ve kept them, was there a particular reason for hanging on to them so long? NO. I DON'T. BECAUSE I CRINGE INTO ANOTHER DIMENSION. I keep a lot of it for memory's sake, but goddamn, is it always embarrassing. What would you say was your first true hobby? What about your most recently developed one? Um... the first thing I really remember is video games. I played Spyro like, a LOT, along with other childhood games. I was just really into gaming at a young age. Is there one thing that throws off your mood more than others, whether it be lack of sleep, lack of food, heat/cold, etc., and when was the last time you felt especially cranky? THE HEAT. I become so irritable. I was needlessly cranky a few days ago for whatever reason. What kinds of things are you likely to complain about? My legs hurting, more than anything. Also being hot. Do you like to put any extra effort into your food in terms of presentation, or do you prefer to just put it on a plate and eat it as it is, no frills? Ha, no. It's not gonna look fancy in my stomach, so whatever. Have you ever dated someone who had kids? No, and I very much doubt I ever would. Are there any candles in the room with you? No. Does the last person you kissed have tattoos? No, but I tell her all the time that dainty nature tattoos would be THE most beautiful on her. When was the last time someone called you pretty? I think when I last updated my Facebook profile picture. Do you like the color pink? It's my favorite! Does your cell phone have a case on it? What color? It came with this thin purple one. What was the last song you had on repeat? "Moon Baby" by Godsmack. Ever kissed someone your parents hated? No. Your most recent ex says he/she hates you, you say? I wouldn't *say* anything, I'd break down sobbing. Would you feel hurt if your last ex was in a relationship? No. Have you ever had to choose between two people? Yes: Jason and Juan. Juan and I dated for less than a day not all that long before Jason and I got together, and Juan was pretty upset. He was nooot a fan of Jason due to a shared ex-girlfriend. Jason, meanwhile, just didn't care. What is the saddest thing that has happened to you? What about the happiest? I think the saddest thing has to be my breakup, especially when you know just how madly in love I was with him and had endless trust that he would never leave, and then he was gone in a flash one night. The happiest is, in turn, my recovery from said split. I found strength in myself and felt hope for once as I learned coping mechanics and got a psychiatrist that was worth a shit in my partial hospitalization program. What was the last new drink you discovered that was delicious? *shrug* Do you have a YouTube channel? Yes. I don't make videos anymore, though. Were you happy as a teenager? God no, my depression was awful. What do you do for your mom on Mother’s Day? Sigh. Not enough. I just tell her happy Mother's Day, give her a hug, and try to be an extra good daughter. Do you know anyone who follows a raw vegan diet and lifestyle? No. Can you go see a doctor alone or do you like to take someone with you? I can do it alone (but only have once), but I like to bring my mom with me still. Would you have sex with someone of the same gender as you? I'm bi, so. Have you ever had a concussion? One or two, I can't remember. How many dresses do you own? Zero. Do you know anyone who has a pet gecko? Yeah, my friend Summer has a darling leopard gecko. I want oneeeeee. They look so damn derpy and adorable, and their chill demeanor is something I really like in pets. Would you ever go bear hunting? No. Absolutely never. Do you prefer drawing or painting? Any particular reason why? Drawing, for sure. At least you can erase stuff, and paint is just so messy. Do you like raisins? NO THANKS MAN. Do you remember your locker combinations from high school? Nope. Do you forget to flip the page of your calendar at the start of each month? I don't have a calendar. Are you racist to any race? Nope. Have you ever intentionally hurt an animal? I've given cats and dogs a small pop on the rear, but nothing more than that. I hate doing even that, but with the language barrier and all, sometimes it's the only way to get your point across. Do you own any autographed memorabilia? No. Have you ever dated a twin? No. Oreos or Chips Ahoy? Oreos. Have you ever considered being a cop? Yeah, no thank you. What’s your favorite superhero movie? Maybe Logan. I thought it was very emotional and just overall a good movie. Name somebody you know who deserves a better life than they have: MY MOM. Name something that you’re good at but don’t like: uhhhhhhhh Name something that you’re bad at but DO like: Dancing, maybe. Which is worse: Stale chips or flat soda? Stale chips, for sure. It's certainly not my preference, but I can drink flat soda. Who’s the hottest guy and hottest girl out there? M-Mark Fischbach. :') Girl... let's seeeeee... maybe Alissa White-Gluz from Arch Enemy. GodDAMN what a WOMAN. ❤_❤ Do you ever trip over your pets? Yes, because he just looooves to follow me at my feet. What’s your relationship like with your exes? Aaron, Juan, Jason, and Tyler: nonexistent. Sara and Girt: great. What was the last thing you turned down doing? Going to my nephew's t-ball game. I always feel bad when I say no when Mom asks if I wanna go... but at least the kids know I just don't handle the heat well. Are you a party animal? Faaaaar from it, my friend. Who are you the biggest fan of? m-m-m-mMARKIPLIER You’re DJ for the night - first track to get everyone going? Uhhhh maybe "Party Hard" by Andrew W.K.? Have you ever been hit on by a pushy person? I think Juan was kinda pushy, but not to an uncomfortable degree. He respected what I felt. What accent do you find attractive? Most attractive, British. But I also really like Scottish and Irish. Also French accents in women I tend to find very beautiful-sounding. Have you ever had feelings for a friend's partner? Yes. What’s your favorite thing to do that doesn’t cost much? Drive around take pictures, maybe? Let's, uh, ignore the whole gas crisis in this answer. When in danger are you more fight or flight? Flight. Do you feel self conscious about a certain body part? *gestures to entire body* Have you been accused of being manipulative? Yes. Have you ever considered violence to solve your problem? No. Are you romantic? I personally think so. If you are a smoker, how long does a pack typically last you? If you aren’t a smoker, does anybody you are close to smoke, & if so, are you against the fact that they’re a smoker? I don't smoke. To answer the next part, yes, like my dad and stepmom. I wish they would stop so badly, like it's literally going to kill them both. Do you have more subscribers or more people that you are subscribed to? On YouTube? I'm definitely subscribed to waaay more people. Is there anything that has been drilled into your brain since you were young & you finally decided to stop listening to? How did it feel once you decided to listen to yourself over what you were told? Yes: "finish your plate." Teaching your kid to eat beyond their comfort can be very destructive, and I'm glad I never stuck to that once Mom stopped enforcing it. If you are currently in a relationship, what is one thing that seems to be unique or different about your relationship with this person, compared to other relationships in general? If you are currently single, is this more of a choice or is it more just the way things are going, not really something you chose? If you are neither “single” or officially in a relationship, what are your feelings on your current situation? I'm single, and it's just how it is. I know realistically I wouldn't tell what felt like the right person no, but it really is probably better that I stay single and keep figuring my shit out. Think of somebody famous that you have a lot of respect for. What is something that you really admire them for? To name just one thing I admire in Mark, his relentless "I'm going to do this no matter what" attitude is very inspirational to me. He lets like... n-o-t-h-i-n-g get in his way. If somebody were to leave a harsh comment on a survey you took, judging you on one of your opinions, how would you react? I'd get pretty self-conscious, just because I in general take judgment quite poorly. I obsess over "what if they're right, and you're just an idiot?". Are there any other sites you use to find surveys to take? What sites do you use? I mainly use Tumblr and LiveJournal, but in times of great desperation, I'll use Bzoink and just google surveys as well, haha. Have you sent or received any friend requests on Facebook lately? Not sent, but I got one from someone I had no mutual friends with the other day. Safe to say I declined it. Can you recall the last time you turned down an offer, of any kind? Uhhhhh no. Which fruit would you say you eat the most often? Apples. What was your pet’s last vet visit concerning? Roman has been to the vet once to get neutered (and I think shots?). I took Venus many years ago because I thought she had a respiratory infection. Thank god, she didn't. Which animals do you tend to go check out first at pet stores? The reptiles, snakes in particular. Have you ever been a victim of a house fire? No. What’s the longest you’ve ever had to wait before being seated at a restaurant? Like, over an hour. Have you ever had a cavity before? How about a root canal? A tooth pulled? Braces? Cavities and braces, yes. What is your favorite zoo animal that you would like to set free? Probably polar bears. Like especially here, it gets so hot in the summer, and the poor things sometimes only have a bit of snow in the shade. Like... they can't be very happy. Especially when you see those videos of them playing in snow, and then you think about situations like our zoo here... ugh. What kinds of artifacts fascinate you? I really think old figurines built with like clay and stuff are cool. But all artifacts I find to be very intriguing. It's so interesting to see that the desire to create has always been with us as a species. Is there anyone that you’ve visited in jail? No.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''killing in the name of'' by rage against the machine

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marveldeliversusps · 4 years ago

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Postal Worker Bucky

Here’s an example of a ficlet for the Marvel Delivers USPS event.

Prompt: Clint's dog Lucky gets all of postal worker Bucky's attention, and Clint gets none. Something has to change.

“Who’s a good boy? Are you a good boy?”

The door to Clint’s house is closed, but he can hear the thump of Lucky’s delighted tail wagging and his happy little woof when Bucky scratches him just right.

Lucky, a one-eyed, three legged mutt and ball of sunshine, had been inside with Clint most of the day, but he nosed at the door at three thirty, like he somehow could tell time and knew when the mail was coming. Maybe he could. Clint had let him out in the front yard, so Lucky could wait for his second favorite person: Bucky, their postal worker.

Clint doesn’t open the door right away, doing so seems to spook Bucky and that seriously cuts into Clint’s pining and spying time. Bucky is the hottest postal worker Clint has ever seen. His shirt stretches against his broad chest, that top button doing its damnedest to stay in place and not fly off into oblivion.

Not that Clint would mind. Nope. He’d probably cheer. He’s been watching Bucky for five months, ever since Bucky took over for Edward, who was nice but never made time to talk. Bucky’s not like that. He chats with everyone and calls all Clint’s neighbors by their names. As many of them are older adults, sometimes Bucky is the only person they talk to on a given day. Clint tries to be social and keep them company, but he’s often busy with the Avengers.

The little old ladies on the street swoon when Bucky smiles at them, even when he wears that dorky hat. Somehow he makes it work. And Clint’s a bit worried Mrs. Francois will have a heart attack the next time Bucky winks at her.

Clint probably would, too, that is, if Bucky ever gave him any attention. Whenever Clint’s around, Bucky somehow seems to be super busy and in a rush to deliver the rest of his mail.

Bucky slides the mail into the slot on Clint’s front door. It’s mostly archery magazines. Clint knows more than all the writers, and his gear is fancier than anything featured on the glossy pages, but it’s still fun to look at bows and arrows.

Clint can’t wait anymore, he opens the door trying for a ‘I haven’t been sitting inside the apartment thinking about you’ casual pose.

“Hiya, Bucky,” he says, his voice squeaking a little. Because apparently he is no longer a full grown man; he’s a wobbly voiced teenager. He can’t blame himself. Bucky is sex on legs, and Clint has seriously considered setting a fire just to get him to take his shirt off.

Bucky turns around and saying warmly, “Hi, Mr. Barton.”

“It’s Clint,” he says. He’s told Bucky this every time they’ve talked. “You know don’t have to be fancy with me.”

Bucky smiles, cheeks pinking up. It makes Clint think there’s something there between the two of them.

“I should...” Bucky points his thumb behind him. “Go. Deliver things. Mail, you know?”

Lucky is still clinging to Bucky’s side, likely ready to hop in the mail truck and tour the neighborhood. And something about the gentle way Bucky’s fingers massage the downy fur behind Lucky’s ears, opens Clint’s heart right up and makes him feel brave.

“You should stop by later.”

“Oh, did you need something sent out?” Bucky says. He glances at his watch and pulls out a notepad from his bag. “I can, I mean, I’m not supposed to, but I can stop by later to pick it up.”

Mrs. Gonzalez and Mrs. Ross have both come out onto their porch to gawk at Bucky and Clint talking. They are widows turned lovers who love to gossip and haven’t been subtle in their attempts to get Clint and Bucky together. Bucky hasn’t said anything before, so maybe Clint’s been reading this all wrong.

“I don’t want to get you in trouble,” Clint says, feeling unsure. Is it creepy to ask out your postal worker? Shit. “I was more trying to ask you out.”

Mrs. Ross must have turned her hearing aids up all the way so she could listen in, because she whispers something to Mrs. Gonzalez, and they laugh.

“I should tell you,” Bucky says, glancing at Clint’s neighbors and smiling weakly. “You seem nice, and I like your dog, but--”

Oh no. No no no no. Clint had read this all wrong. This was like hitting on baristas or nurses or anybody else who has to be nice at work, and now he’s the jerk that made the mailman hate his job. Clint could move? But then who would eat the leftover empanadas Mrs. Gonzalez makes? Who would mow Mrs. Francois’ lawn when the city complains her grass is too tall?

“Whoa there, buddy,” Bucky says, suddenly very close. “You look like you’re going to pass out.”

Clint plonks down on his steps and gives Bucky a weak thumbs up. Lucky finally remembers where his loyalties are and nuzzles his head in Clint’s lap. “I’m fine, just a long day yesterday.” It’s not a complete lie, he did end up on the losing end of a knife fight during a mission the day before, and Nat had saved him at the last minute. But Clint doesn’t want to tell Bucky that or that his anxiety sometimes gets the better of him.

Bucky sits quietly beside him, no doubt falling behind in his schedule. “I’m sorry, Clint. I would like to go out with you, but I’m vegan. And it’s not like I hate hunters, I get that it can be a sustainable way to get meat, but I don’t think I could be romantically involved with someone who kills animals.”

“Huh?” Clint eats meat, but he doesn’t hunt. Well, he hunts bad guys. Best not to say that part, he tells himself, because then he’ll sound super creepy.

“Your magazines…”

Clint laughs. The archery magazines do feature a lot of hunting content, something Clint had largely ignored. “No, I don’t hunt. Just into shiny bows and stuff. I’m an archer.”

“Oh,” Bucky says, ducking his head. “Guess I shouldn’t have assumed.”

Clint waves a hand at him. “No, I get it. And I don’t usually faint when someone turns me down, I just lost a lot of blood last night, and--”

Bucky’s eyes widen, and Clint abruptly stops talking. Shit. How had Clint managed to make things even worse? Bucky doesn’t think he’s a hunter anymore, now he thinks Clint is a serial killer.

“With the Avengers!” Clint says, too loud. He lowers his voice to a whisper, pretending everyone on his street doesn’t know. “I’m mostly retired, but I help the Avengers sometimes.”

Bucky squints at Clint like he’s trying to decide whether he is lying. “Hawkeye!” he exclaims finally. “That’s right. With the muscles.”

“Yeah, that’s me,” Clint says. “No killing animals, just sometimes bad guys, but only if they are really bad, like end the world type of bad.”

Bucky appears to mull this over until he looks at his watch with a start. “Shit. I’m behind.” He stands up and wipes the dust off his perfectly round ass. Clint tries not to notice. This isn’t his most mortifying attempt at asking someone out, but it’s close to the top.

“I’ll be back at six,” Bucky says. “Maybe a few minutes after, because I’m running late.”

“What?”

“Did you still want to go on a date?”

Clint nods, mouth slack and open. There is no way he bungled things up this badly, and he’s still getting a date out of it.

“Okay,” Bucky says, turning with a shy little wave. “See you then.”

Clint’s brain catches up with what’s happened and waves back. Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees Mrs. Ross and Mrs. Gonzalez give each other a high five.

*bonus points to anyone who caught The Good Place reference*

#Marvel delivers USPS #savethepostoffice

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dilfdoctordoom · 4 years ago

Note

What would Bette’s first impressions of the Robins be? (Steph included)

Yet another lengthy one, so under the cut we go.

Dick:

Okay, hottest of takes here, but we’re gonna follow the original Bat-Girl origin for Bette (ie. she didn’t become a hero because of Robin)

She does have a crush on Robin, mainly because like... I think she feels that she has to??? If that makes sense???

Bette will do whatever it takes to fit in and she assumes that to fit in, she has to be with Robin. It’s a mess born of extreme insecurities & I don’t think it’d happen is somebody had sat her down and explained... she doesn’t need to

But yeah!!! She does genuinely think she’s cool

Technically her first impression of him is made when she saves him, Batwoman & Batman... she keeps on calling him Damsel after that

He hates it but she thinks it’s funny

As for Dick Grayson...

She thinks Dick Grayson is a dork, but he can do cool flips so maybe he isn’t all bad

Probably one of his first friends in Gotham, if we’re being honest? I think Bruce would’ve wanted someone Dick’s age around him, so Bette got invited over a lot & they became friends eventually

Bette and Dick get along far better than Bat-Girl and Robin, okay, I don’t make the rules. They’re just dumbasses together... absolutely no brain cells... the chaos they unleashed, utterly unparalleled

Jason:

So Bette actually knows he’s Robin, so no weird two first meetings

Bette arrives the second she reads on the Gotham Gazette that Bruce got a kid. How could he not tell her? They’re supposed to be family, she should be informed if she has new family, did you know the kid’s birthday is soon? He’s left her in an awkward position on getting a gift but this is Bette Kane. She is inhumanly persistent

Jason is quizzed on his interests the second she arrives at Wayne Manor. And her arrival is... wow. He didn’t know people could drop glitter with every step but apparently, that’s a superpower beauty pageants give you. Weird.

Oh, you like books? What kind of books? Classical, huh... thank god Bette knows Bruce’s library inside and out, she might actually be able to get him something that isn’t already there

Bette’s general impression of Jason is holy shit, this kid is adorable? Literally so cute? She wants to pinch his lil cheeks. 10/10 excellent decision on Bruce’s part, she will support this

Jason thinks Bette is... a lot. Which she is, to be fair. Not, like, the worst person he’s ever met, but he seriously doubts he’d be able to handle her in large bouts

Tim:

This one is actually kinda fun because I’m headcanoning that they meet before he ever becomes a hero! They’re both a part of Gotham’s elite, they meet before he starts kicking people’s heads in

They’re very formal with each other. The Kanes & the Drakes aren’t exactly close so...yeah

Bette always does kinda try to help him out when she can

She actually ends up being hired as his tutor for a few subjects. It’s a case of unstoppable force, immovable object; Tim Drake’s hatred of school vs Bette Kane’s inability to give up on anything

He does actually end up learning stuff. He places it down to the fear

Bette thinks he’s just a sweet little kid

Tim doesn’t actually find out she was the original Bat-Girl, or that she’s Flamebird until he becomes Robin. He was too focused on Batman and he just... loses his mind when he realizes it. It makes so much sense but also what? What? Bruce explain it huts his head make it make sense but also make it make less sense

Steph:

They first meet when Steph is Spoiler. Bette is Flamebird at the time & they team up to take on the Joker & insult Batman

It is pure unadulterated chaos

Who let this happen? Unclear, but Batman’s already got a migraine & Eddie wishes that this never occurred. He wants to go back to a time before they knew each other

Steph throws bricks, Bette is surprisingly good at riddles, this was a disaster in the making. Have you met them? Can you imagine them working together? God. I fear for Gotham

Bette thinks Steph is super cool... and like, hey, maybe she does relate a little to the whole ‘Batman and Robin disapprove’ thing...

She kinda breaks a lot of rules & tells Steph her identity that night because look. Bette gets how important a proper support system is. If Bruce had been a little more honest with her a little earlier, things in her Bat-Girl era probably would’ve gone better

So Flamebird lets Spoiler know her secret identity. She hasn’t said anything that links her to Bruce or anybody else so it’s probably fine and even if it isn’t... Bette doesn’t see it as a bad thing if a kid that wants to do good knows where to find more help

The next morning, Stephanie Brown meets up with Bette Kane for waffles and is taught the importance of being underestimated, how to weaponize it

Damian:

Bruce is dead. They both go to his funeral but they don’t meet then

Bette goes completely silent for a week after his death and then she shows up at Wayne Manor, the entirety of the Gray Ghost in hand

As far as she knows, Bruce is never gonna get to show his son this and that’s... not fair, in her mind

So they watch it together. Sometimes Damian paints, sometimes one of his pets is there, but most of the time, it’s just the two of them

It takes him a while to start talking to her. His information on Bette Kane doesn’t paint an overly flattering picture and he’s extremely dismissive of her, but also, Dick’s been changing how he sees things and she’s actually trying to let him know Bruce, not Batman

Sometimes, completely unprompted, she’ll tell him stories about his father. It’s never about Batman (because that wasn’t all her cousin was and his son deserves to know that), always Bruce Wayne. The Bruce that she knew, not the playboy facade

He... he isn’t mad about it. It’s different from anything that Dick or Talia has ever told him

Robin V & Flamebird don’t ever work together but. The second he’s in danger, in genuine danger, and Dick has sent out the call... she’s there

I wouldn’t say Bette is in the best place when Damian arrives (her cousin is dead, like, that’s gonna hurt) but she sees a kid that needs help and that overrides everything else. Besides, Bruce would be disappointed in her if she didn’t give Dick a little assistance

She sees a lot of her cousin in him and it takes her a while not to be awkward about it

It takes a lot of time, but eventually, they do get along much better and aren’t always so silent around each other

Duke:

Duke is Bette’s favourite Robin, even if she first meets him when he’s the Signal

Like, sorry, there’s absolutely no doubt about this. He’s got cool light powers, she loves that he doesn’t take Bruce’s shit and she just... she thinks he’s awesome, you know?

Sometimes she’ll help him patrol during the day. It’s actually what gets her back into the Flamebird costume, it’s a lot of fun

They have a different dynamic than any of the ones she has with the other Robins for a lot of reasons. Like, it’s never gonna be how it is with the first three, because Bette is so much older now. It’s not gonna be how it was with Steph, because she & Steph bonded over how Batman and Robin shoved them aside. Damian is Bruce’s kid and that added a different element to their dynamic

But Duke. Duke’s got this light in him and Bette is fiercely protective of him. They have a different dynamic -- because Bette has seen what usually happens to Robins, to anyone that wore that mantle. She won’t see it happen again

#q & a #bette kane

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strangerontheotherside84 · 5 years ago

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Wild Child (Billy Hargrove x Reader) part 5

Hey everybody thank you all so much for your nice feedback. I originally just wrote this story for a friend and didn’t think that anybody else would give a shit about it tbh. Which is also the reason why there is no regular uploading schedule and I am super shit at this whole tagging stuff…

Tagged-list: @speedmetalqueen @charmed-asylum

Warnings: language, mention of abuse, blood, mention of drug use

„Honey, I’m home.“ you shouted dramatically as you entered the small house, kicked of your boots and walked down the hallway into the kitchen.

You had actually been surprised to see lights burning inside the house as you arrived, your uncle didn’t mention that he was going to be home for dinner. Well now you at least had someone to share that frozen lasagna with. „Woah uncle Lou what’s that smell? Did you find out about the magical effects that spices have on pre-cooked food or-? Oh…“

You stopped at the sight of your uncle sitting at the kitchen table with your next door neighbour Ms Johnson, both of them looking very caught. And what you had mistaken for a very upgraded frozen lasagne seemed to actually be a real home-cooked meal. Well….you had definitely crushed their date.

„(Y/n)….I didn’t expect you to be home this early…I met Helen uhm Ms. Johnson at the garage and she suggested to cook dinner for us.“

„Yeah no worries.“ you laughed. You knew very well that Helen and your Uncle had a thing for each other. Nobody needed their car to get fixed that often. She would also regulary pretend to check up on you to see if your uncle was home. Once you even caught her, leaving the house through the backdoor early in the morning. They were acting like teenagers which to be honest was kinda cute.

„Wait a minute..“ you began, suddely realizing something, „Why did you think I wasn’t going to be home for dinner? I only had class until 2.“

„Well…school called.“

Oh fuck. Shit shit SHIT. Of course they did. How could you be so stupid?

„Well about that….“ you began laughing nervously, „I can only say it propably wasn’t as bad as it sounds.“

„What exactly?“ your Uncle was raising his voice at this point, but no matter how hard he tried…he was really bad at this whole strict-parenting-thing, „The part where you got sent to detention for almost getting into a physical fight with a boy OR the part where you got expelled for, and I quote their words: innapropriate actions with the exact same boy.“

„Well what can I say….I might have lost my temper a bit.“

„A bit?“ he was raising his eyebrows at you.

„Yeah ok maybe a little bit more than that. But I can assure you that I’m fine again. Also, innapropriate actions sounds like we were sacrificing children. It was just…oh nevermind. I’ll leave the two of you alone now“ you smiled at him and Helen, who was visibly uncomfortable with the whole situation.

„Where do you think you’re going?“

„To the lake. To think about my mistakes and nothing else of course…maybe god will end my suffering and let me drown.“

„(Y/n)!“, your uncle moved his eyes towards Helen, indicating that she wasn’t used to that level of sarcasm, „Also don’t you think, that after being expelled from school not leaving the house would be a more fitting idea?“

„Oh come on Uncle Lou…we both know that you don’t know how to punish me for something like that. And trust me I am already punished enough since I will forever have to remember making out with the biggest dickhe- uhm jerk in town…also…don’t you think it would be better if I was gone so the two of you can continue to do whatever needed to be done before I got home?“

„Fine fine fine. Get lost you little shit.“

„As you wish, sir.“ you grinned, „Bye Helen, feel free to use the front door this time.“

„(Y/N)!..I’m sorry Helen..she is….an idiot.“

„True. It runs in the family though.“ you yelled as you grabbed your stuff and made your way towards the front door.

You lit a cigarette, deeply inhaling the smoke only to release it into the crisp air within seconds later.

You had always enjoyed spending time at the lake.

Especially at night, there was something very soothing about this kind of solitude.

You were the only one present, as usual. Which might have been due to the fact that it was already december and pitch black outside.

But actually people didn’t really go here anymore no matter what time of the year it was. Not since they found that body which turned out not to be Will Byers, last summer. People thought the lake had been infested with some kind of supernatural bacteria, some even claimed that it was haunted.

„Well if you’re here lake-demons. Now would be a great time to drag me into the water and let me vanish from the surface of the earth.“ you mubled while flicking a stone into the dark water, watching the circles it created on the black surface.

The sound of a car stopping and a door being slammed shut in the distance suddenly pulled you from the thoughts circling in your head. Pretty weird that someone would be out here at 9pm on a monday night. Might be Chief Hopper? He would regulary pick you up at this place, when you were trying to get away from your mom and her shitty boyfriend.

But nothing followed that noise, which left you diving deep back into your thoughts once again.

You just couldn’t understand what had happened only a few hours ago.

Why WHY would you decide to kiss that walking trashbag of a human? And why the fuck did it have to feel so damn good? Worse enough that Billy already thought of himself as the hottest shit in town…why did it have to be true?…Well only kinda. It was just a few seconds of making out, which fair enough even the biggest looser would have been capable of.

Holy shit you didn’t even want to think about what you would have done if Mr. Jenkins hadn’t stopped you…but on the other hand you had the feeling that you would think about that a lot in the next few days.

Ok you really needed to stop that. NOW.

In order to not act like some horny piece of shit anymore you decided to walk around for a bit. Sitting on the freezing stones in front of the water was getting way too cold anyway.

You moved slowly on the slippery pepple stones, your eyes trying to focus in the foggy darkness. How good that you knew this place by heart and didn’t park your car too far away. You were already pretty close to the road as your eyes catched the sight of an unfamilair figure. Looked like somebody had parked their car right here in the middle of nowhere.

Please don’t let this become the next underage make-out hotspot. Isn’t Lovers Lake enough?

There clearly was somebody sitting on the hood of the car, looking rather wasted to be honest.

„Hey is everything alright?“ you asked as you approached the dark figure.

„Yeah..everything is just great.“ even though his voice sounded exhausted and faint you realized immediately who you were talking to.

„Hargrove? Are you following me or what?“ you groaned, „Is there really not enough space in Hawkins for the two of us not to meet every other day?“

„Look (y/l/n),“ Billy began, his husky voice sounding even weaker than before, „I appreciate your overall dedication to being an annoying bitch 24/7 but please, not now. Leave me the fuck alone.“

This made you very suspicious. „You sure you’re alright?“ you moved a few steps closer towards him „Holy shit dude what happened to your face?“.

It wasn’t a secret that Billy would regulary get into fights, but he would usually emerge from those as the winner. But today? The whole left side of his face was bruised, blood dripping from his eyebrow and the corner of his mouth.

He quickly faced away from you, wiping his palms across his face. „I said go away. Everything is fine.“ he growled, his voice now almost back to it’s usual low thick sound.

„I would believe you if your face didn’t look like it was hit by a fucking truck. And trust me I don’t like you enough to pretend that I care. But you look rough.“

„Well you seem to like me enough to not leave me alone.“ Billy taunted you with a grin on his face which quickly turned into a painful groan.

„Alright that’s enough let me see that.“ You took a seat next to him, carefully touching his jaw, turning his head towards you. He flinched as your fingers moved across his black and blue cheek. „Doesn’t seem to be broken..but still…who did that? Did you screw somebody’s girlfriend?“

„Doesn’t matter.“ Billy mumbled, trying to avoid eye contact.

„Well I’m not a big fan of the cops but don’t you think your parents will call them when they see you like that?“

„Nope.“

„..or maybe at least want to know what happened?“ you continued.

„Nope.“

“..or wanna know who did that?”

“Nope.” Billy seemed to be getting more and more fed up with you at this point.

„Well can you at least tell me then?“

„YOU WANNA KNOW WHAT HAPPENED?“ Billy suddenly facing towards you, screaming at the top of his lungs, made you jump a little, „I GOT EXPELLED FROM SCHOOL BECAUSE OF SOME STUPID BITCH AND THIS IS WHAT YOU GET FOR NOT BEHAVING AT MY HOUSE! AND NO THEY WON’T CARE WHO DID THAT BECAUSE THEY ALREADY KNOW!“

Billy was looking furious, breathing heavily, his whole body shaking with anger. His breath created little clouds in the cold december air and you thought that you could see tears shimmering in his piercing blue eyes before he turned away from you again, smashing the hood of his car, screaming with anger as he jumped onto his feet.

„Fuck…I’m sorry…I didn’t know.“ „Oh really? Thought you knew absolutely everything about me and how much of an asshole I am.“ Billy growled, still facing his back towards you as he lit a cigarette.

Yeah you deserved that one.

„Well I seem to be just as big of an asshole at this point.“ you mumbled as you reached into your pocket, „Here…guess you need that more than me.“ without waiting for a response you placed the joint from your pocket inside Billy’s left hand. He looked up to you slightly confused. „For the pain…if you need anything else..my Uncle’s secret girlfriend is a nurse. I’m sure I could get you some harder drugs.“

“Thanks…but please (y/l/n) leave me alone now.” the curly haired boy’s voice was back to that faint husky state from before, his body still visibly shaking.

“Yeah whatever I was just trying to be nice.” you mumbled not really knowing what to do. You really didn’t like him enough to be any more supportive than gifting him your last bit of weed.

“I don’t need you to be nice to me.”

“Don’t be such a bitch, Hargrove.”

„Leave me alone. And don’t even think about being nice to me just because you feel sorry for me.“ Billy snapped, pushing you aside as he walked back to his car and drove off into the night.

What a dramatic bitch.

#billy hargrove #stranger things #stranger things imagine #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #wild child part 5

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yminie · 6 years ago

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after hours | jung hoseok (m)

pairing: Hoseok x Reader genre/warnings: retail!au, nonidol!au, manager!hoseok, worker!mc, tension, smut, protected sex for once, this is honestly pretty mild lol. Words: 5.3k summary: It’s no secret your manager is very, very good looking. So what can be expected of you when you spend one too many nights locked up on your own with him?

a/n: Happy Hope Day! Just a little something to celebrate our sunshine! Enjoy <3

This was bad. This was very, very bad.

You were never going to admit it, couldn’t possibly, no matter how many times your best friend called you out, nor how many times you’d overhear female customers whispering between themselves just how handsome and sexy Jung Hoseok was. You were never going to give in, never going to stoop so low as to actually admit to yourself –let alone anybody else– just how damn attractive he was.

Because he was your manager, and even entertaining the idea of how toned you’d noticed his arms to be, or how strong and thick his legs looked when he pushed you aside to lift the boxes that were too heavy. You could never, ever, ever get involved with him.

“What’s the big deal? You guys are together every day, spending lots of alone time after hours – it’d be way too easy! Besides, Jung Hoseok is the hottest piece of ass this shopping centre’s seen since that Mr Bubble Butt that works down at the cafe!” Your best friend within the mall, Tiffany, badgers you again, and had you not known first hand these tables weren’t cleaned nearly as well as they should be, you might’ve just banged your head along the fake marble surface. “C’mon, _____, do it for us thirsty girls! We’re all dying to know what he’s like in bed–”

“Oh, my god.” This time your head does fall forward, luckily onto your folded arms, and you groan once more into your skin as Tiffany throws back her head a laughs, holding a french fry between her teeth. “You’re really not gonna drop this are you? He’s my manager, Tiff. That’s like, the most conflict of interest I could possibly get!”

“Hey, you’re not banging him for a promotion! Though if that’s how it ends up being I won’t judge you for it! Girls gotta do what a girls gotta do.” You glare up at her when you finally lift your head, fingers twitching with the urge to pinch her and instead pinching the straw to your smoothie as you turn your hateful gaze to the table in front of you.

“You’re officially insane, you know?” She merely shrugs, teeth-filled grin not dimming in the slightest even after she tears the fry in half and chews smugly.

Because she knows. She knows you’re not immune to the delicious sight that is Jung Hoseok, and she’s always seen right through your guise to the struggle you have every time the boy in question gets a little too close or bends over a little to directly in front of you. Because even the strongest woman couldn’t help the way her knees get a little weak when he sweeps his soft hair back from his forehead, or tilts his jaw and rubs at his chin, deep in thought.

“I hope you remember what I said in four hours, when there's not a soul in the centre to hear you–” You almost hiss, turning your head so fast your neck starts to burn with pain, and her smile grows, eyes flickering somewhere back behind you to where you know Hoseok is standing serving a customer.

“I hope you choke.” All you hear is her laugh ringing out as you turn on your heel and stride back into the store, completely bypassing Hoseok where he’s chatting casually with a regular, also ignoring the confused glance he gives to your flushed cheeks.

Your bag hits the shelf out the back with more force than necessary, rattling the fixtures as you huff and pull a deep breath into your lungs, running your fingers through your hair and away from your face as you try to calm down. You shouldn’t be so worked up over just a little bit of teasing, just as much as you shouldn’t be thinking about the reality of her words, knowing just how close to the truth they truly are.

This is very, very bad.

__________

“Hey can you close the doors now? There’s no one out there so we might as well get a start on this VM change.” You hum your agreement, putting down the box of stock you’d grabbed from out the back beside the counter and walking slowly to the front of the store. The wheels of the racks rattle as you pull them in out of the way of the door, and when you look up in the midst of bringing the roller door down, you spot Tiffany doing the same right across the way. Her grin is only what could be called shit-eating, and you feel your eye twitching as she lifts a hand to twinkle her fingers at you.

“Don't work too hard now, you two!” Your stare quickly drops down into a glare even more firey than the one she’d been given earlier, but all she does is smile wider.

“Easy for you say!” You barely hide the way you jump in surprise at Hoseok’s sudden appearance at your side, hands casually tucked into his pockets as he grins across at her, yet once glance at Tiffany lets you know she’d spotted your little jerk.

“Have a great night!” Hoseok waves at her farewell just as the roller door lowers over his face, and now all that’s to be seen is rough silhouettes through the meshed metal, though you don’t need to see her to know she’s still grinning.

“Lucky her, huh?” You blink out of your daze to find yourself still with your hand on the key in the auto lock, and for a second you struggle as you try to remove it before it slips free. “Too bad we’re stuck here for another few hours.

“Yeah, ha, too bad.” You follow him once he turns on his heel, awash in a cloud of his cologne as you walk behind him back to the desk, and the smell only gets stronger as the both of you lean in and take a look at the clothing display on the screen. It wasn’t a big change, new seasonal far more straightforward than a sale setup, and in no time the two of you are moving about, both with your own section to complete in order to make the process a little faster.

“Hey, can you pass me that bar?” You grab the metal rod before taking a glance, standing from where you’re crouched in front of a box of stock with a groan, but when you look up you have to force yourself not to gasp in awe.

Hoseok is stood at the top of a ladder, one foot a rung higher where he’s stepped down to reach for the bar in your hands better, and the position only serves to make his behind look rounded and thick, solid in the same way his thigh is pushing at his chino pants, and suddenly the thought of a similar view with a few less clothes flashes in your mind.

You cough, averting your eyes as he slips the bar from your hand and turns back to his task, and for a moment you stand with a distracted mind as you look unseeing down at the box in front of you. This was entirely too inappropriate, ogling your boss like he’s a piece of meat, regardless of how meaty his muscly legs looked–

“You good, _____? You’re looking a little flushed.” Now you do gasp, jumping away from his sudden hand on your arm too fast to see where you’re going, and it’s with a yelp you start to fall, feet tripping over the box before you as you flounder for something to grab onto. Hoseok yells too, an indistinct noise you can only guess to be distress as he makes a grab for you, and for one terrifying second you think you’re truly going to bust your skull on the floor and bleed to death, all over the imaginary visual of your boss’ naked lower body.

But his grip on your waist doesn’t falter, only his feet, and after a few stumbling steps where you’re both fighting to stay upright, you finally land on something far softer and more safe, a squeak pushing through your throat when Hoseok lands right on top of you.

You don’t want to say his crotch is pressed right between your legs...but his crotch is pressed right between your legs. A short table of tshirts and the like had cushioned your fall, though the piles were a little too uneven to be called comfortable, and for a few moments you simply lay there, gasping for air as you soak in the feeling of Hoseok’s warmth above you, and you can feel the heat of his breath where he’s panting in tandem against your shoulder.

Damn it.

“Shit, you okay?” Hoseok pushes himself upright in the blink of an eye, and you quickly realise one of your legs had been curled around his hip in the mess of the fall. You shook upright, still sitting on the table as you pat down your hair frantically and try to ignore the way your skin is burning, you cheeks in embarrassment, and the rest of you in arousal.

Because nothing could deny just how good his body felt slotted so perfectly against yours, how well he’d fit between your thighs like he was made to be there, and how close to the real thing you’d really just gotten a taste of.

You were so screwed.

“Y-Yeah I’m all good.” You can’t find it within yourself to look up at him even though he’s stood right in front of you. Every piece of your being is screaming for you to launch yourself at him and never let him escape, but you know that’s not reality, and as you push yourself to stand you make a point of stepping away from him a little, just to avoid the temptation his nearness might invoke. “S-Sorry, that was dumb, um. I’ll go grab the rest of those boxes while you finish the display.”

Hoseok is silent for a while. Not responding as you walk away, not speaking when you do as you’d said, walking back and forth with boxes, and not speaking when you start to set up the new stuff in your section. The only noise in the store is the quiet music he’d let continue playing through the speakers overhead and the tapping of his feet on the metal rungs of the ladder as he goes up and down, quietly humming to himself along with some of the tunes as he works.

Almost fifteen minutes passes in this way, the two of you strung up in a tense silence as you both work quietly among yourselves, but the silence is deafening, and all you want is for him to break it with some of his silly noises or another funny story about a customer he’d had come in this week. You’re almost scared at his silence, seeing a guy normally to lighthearted and upbeat slip into such a mask of seriousness, and you can’t help but feel it’s all your fault.

If only you were more professional, more focused on your job than being caught up in Hoseok’s looks, nothing would’ve happened. And you’d never have felt the scorching imprint of his hands on his skin and his hips burning permanent invisible indents on the insides of your thighs.

“_____.” You jump again, lost in your thoughts as you stand in the back room staring blankly at the wall with your lip between your teeth. You turn around quickly to find Hoseok standing in the door frame, eyebrow quirked as he watches you with a smile, and you clear your throat with a rosy hue coming back through your cheeks. “Are you done out there? The wall looks done, looks really good.”

You can’t deny the way his small praise makes your chest swell, and you could’ve sworn he’d seen it with the ways his eyes glimmer, taking a step further into the back room and now fully filling the doorway. “Yeah, all done.”

“We’re finished a little earlier than I’d thought then, that’s good.” You have no room to back away as he walks even closer, arm reaching past you so closely you can feel the warmth of his skin as he grabs the long cardboard tube beside you. “Bring the extenders and help me put up these signs.”

You follow him dutifully, two extending poles in hand in order to reach high enough to hook the new signage onto the ceiling, and in sync you both lift the old poster from the first window and lay it gently to the side, hooking the bars on the rings for the new one and reaching up to attach it to the ceiling. It goes up with practiced ease, though the way you’re stretching up is causing a slight complaint in your lower back after standing on your feet all day prior, and soon you’re both shuffling to repeat the same on the other side of the shop.

You both stand back to admire your work for a moment, the signage now in place meaning the store is finally put together and the display is complete. Hoseok walks back to the computer to double check any further changes you might need to make, and while he does so you start to tidy up, moving all the empty boxes and bags of plastic back out into the back room to be thrown out in the morning. You find a few metal bars in an empty box that Hoseok must have been using, and you quickly locate their home as you reach up to put them in a box on a higher shelf.

Only now you’re struggling, the ache in your back sharpening like you’re pinching a muscle, and you have to drop back to the flat of your foot and stand straight for a moment, making a small noise of complaint as you rub at your lower back slowly.

“Here, let me help.” You stiffen up once more as the warm of Hoseok’s body returns suddenly, this time at your back as he reaches up to take the bars from your hand and hook them over the edge of the box and inside. He’s not touching you on purpose, you know, hands falling back still by his side, but your entire body breaks out in goosebumps at his proximity alone. You’ve both grown very quiet again, frozen in place with the slightest brush of his breath on the back of your neck, and it’s not until the brush of your backside against the buckle of his belt as you start to melt against him that you both come to, you with a slight whimper that sends your cheeks flaming and him with a slight gasp.

“I-I–” You flounder for something to say, spinning on your heel and stepping back as far as you can to make distance between the two of you. You can feel his eyes on you, not doubt disgusted at the way you’d rubbed yourself against him when he’d purely been trying to help. “I’m sorry, I–”

“Do you have any idea how hard you make this for me?” His voice isn’t what you’d expected, sounding somewhat choked with a roughness that makes your muscles twitch with the need to shudder. You finally lift your gaze to find him staring deep into you, eyes ablaze and lips parted as he almost pants for air, and you find yourself reacting akin, heart beating fast in your chest. “How tempting you are day in, day out?”

“Ho-Hoseok?” You’re still ashamed with the way your body is reacting to him, knees growing weak and lungs breathless as he takes another step towards you, and you can feel your thighs shaking as you press them together, arousal flooding you faster than ever before.

“I try so hard to keep myself away, to respect what’s expected of me and to stick to the rules.” His eyes squeeze shut as though he felt actual pain, and your throat works around a swallow as you realise in an epiphany exactly what it is he’s saying. “Living with this guilt that I’m so fucking attracted to my employee that I can barely keep my head every time she’s around. Do you have any idea what that’s like?”

Hoseok is daring you, you can feel it. His words and his gaze are pulling at your self control, pushing you to confess just how badly you want him and everything he could give you.

And now, with the possibility dangled so close in front of your face that you can almost taste him already, you can’t help yourself.

“Yes.” Hoseok freezes, eyes blowing a little wider before he realises the weight of your words, and then his next step forward is a little bigger, a little more threatening as his eyes narrow like a predator looking at its next meal. “Yes, I do.”

“Tell me you don’t want this.” He takes another step, one that has you stepping back in response, but now you’ve no where to go, the shelf behind you digging into your lower back as you meet the end of the room behind you.

“I don’t want to.” Your voice is nothing more than a whisper

“Fuck.”

Hoseok collides with you so hard you bounce off the shelf and into his chest before he presses you back into it, hands buried in the back of your hair as his lips glide against yours, and the taste of his kisses on your tongue fill you like a breath of fresh air. You can’t help but moan, finally giving in to the sordid urges you’d always suppressed and leaving your body weak as he pulls you even tighter against him, right hand sliding down your back to grip your hip tightly.

The pressure of his kiss has your back curving over the shelf, and in turn has your hips extending forwards to press against his own, and you can finally feel just how badly you’ve affected him without even knowing it. Hoseok’s length already feels fully erect, a thick, generous curve pushing incessantly on the inside of his zipper, and you can’t curb the temptation to shift your hips from side to side to tease him with the pressure of your lower stomach.

This pulls a grunt out of him that you feel reverberating through your lips against his and down your spine, settling in place in the ache between your thighs as his hold on your hips shifts to the more generous flesh. He holds your thigh so tight you don’t doubt there to be bruises left behind, and just the thought of his marks on your body as you rolling your torso against him once more with a moan.

Quickly, the way you both pant into each others mouths isn’t enough, and you’re the one to dislodge your mouths as you fall into his chest, forehead meeting his shoulder as you realise how tightly you’re gripping his biceps and shift your hands instead to stroke down his chest. You can feel every ridge of toned muscle lying beneath his shirt, the fabric doing nothing to hide just how firm he feels under your palm, and you can feel his muscles bulge and flex as his torso stretches with pleasure under your touch.

His mouth has quickly moved on to your shoulder, wet lips leaving glistening trails over your skin as he follows the curve of your shoulder up your neck and to the lobe of your ear where he noisily sucks and nips against your flesh, leaving goosebumps in his wake that tingle when his other hand drops to the buttons at the front of your shirt. He wastes no time, flicking each button open with ease as you remove your hands from his chest to lean back against the shelf with the risk of your knees buckling under the intensity of his ministrations.

The moment the curve of your cleavage is exposed, Hoseok draws back with a deep groan in his throat akin to a growl, and your lashes flutter as you look up only to find him staring down at you already. His eyes are the darkest you’ve ever seen them, brown burning black as he watches your expression carefully, and when your shirt is finally completely open and beginning to fall down your shoulders, he finally releases you from his stare to dip his head and mouth along the edge of your bra with his swollen, cherry red lips.

“Ah!” You can't help but gasp as he laves his tongue along your sensitive skin, dipping just under the cup of your bra to tease at your flesh, and your hands instantly abandon your own stability to twist your fingers into his hair and keep him in place. Hoseok doesn’t mind at all, hands holding you tight around the waist before sliding around to the curve in your spine, and soon they’re lifting to the clip fixed in the middle of your back, only needing a few seconds until the fabric falls lax against your chest.

Your hands drop from his hair to the collar of his shirt, body shaking through a shudder as his fingertips run up the length of your spine where your bra had earlier covered, and it takes barely more than a tug for him to understand your wants. Not bothering with the buttons of his own shirt, he simply releases you to dip his head forward and pull the fabric over his head to be added to the pile on the floor.

Now when he presses against you, it’s skin against skin and you can truly feel how hot his body is burning under your touch. The lights in the backroom are a little dim, not quite lighting the space enough to let you truly appreciate the delicacy that it Jung Hoseok’s body, but he doesn’t give you a chance to worry about it. Quick fingertips ease the straps of your bra down your arms and after only a moment’s hesitation on your part, you let your arms drop and hear the thud of your bra meeting the floor.

“Jesus.” Hoseok whispers like reference on your skin, the soft give of your flesh dimpling under his teeth as he sucks just above the pert rosy bud tightening in the centre of your breast, purely for the sake of marking you up, and you egg him on with a breathy moan as you arch your back even further. “You’re killing me, _____.”

“Ung–hhngk!” You can’t even find the power to reply as his tongue curls around the nub, teasing the tip into complete hardness before his sucks your flesh into his mouth greedily and releases it a few seconds later with a childish pop!

“That’s it, baby. Moan for me.” And who are you to deny such a request through the lips of an angel in the flesh?

“H-Hob–ah!” You jump in his hold as his hand comes up unexpectedly to pinch at your other nipple, and you twist and convulse as each shot of intensity pulses tenfold between your hips. And you know he’s feeling it too, the way his hips continue to roll and press the thick, hot bulge between his own not going unnoticed even as you start to lose your grip on reality under his tongue.

You’re already losing your mind, the slow burn of months of tension all coming to fruition at once, and you can already tell if he doesn't get inside you in the next minute you’re going to combust before he’s even touches between your thighs.

“N-No more!” Your voice is little more than a pitiful whimper as you tug at his hair to ease him from your now swollen nipples, and he instantly straightens with wide eyes trained on your face, hands dropping back down to your waist. He thinks you want him to stop, but he couldn’t be more wrong.

Your hands shake as you pull at his belt with a whine, frantic to finally get your hands on his length and after a few moments of your struggles Hoseok finally interjects a hand to help you with the clasp before allowing you the honours of sliding down the zipper, and once the heat of his arousal is exposed, you instantly pull him from the confines of his briefs and give him a generous stroke.

He’s so much better than you could’ve imagined, no so big you fear the pain of such a tight fit but long and thick enough in your hand that you already know how well he’s going to hit all the places you need him to. Glancing up through your lashes as you push your loosely closed fist back down his length you watch with saliva pooling on your tongue as his eyelids start to droop and his head falls back to expose his throat as he give a deep groan of pleasure. His hold on your waist tightens as he reveres in your touch for just a few moments longer before his head falls forward once again and he leans down to press his forehead to yours.

“Fuck, I don’t have any condoms.” Heartbreak is the only thing comparable to the disappointment you feel for the few seconds it takes you to remember your own little stash, and you simply tilt your head to press your lips to his gently for a second or two.

“My bag, get my bag.” His eyes are alight with confusion as he reaches behind himself to grab for your belongings, and you can feel the beginnings of another scalding blush working across your cheeks. “Don’t judge me.”

You pull the little foil packet you’d been searching for from a small pocket on the inside of your bag, holding it up into the light, and for a few moments he only stares. But then his lips stretch across the biggest smile you’ve ever received from him, and his fingers a plucking the little square from between your fingertips in the same second he’s leaning in to kiss you. “I wouldn’t dare, baby.”

Preening at the pet name as he presses you just as tightly to the shelf as before, you moan into his mouth as tongue glides over your lower lip, fingers doing the same along your waistband before slipping under the sides to ease your pants down your hips. You quickly reach down to help him as he pushes the fabric down to your thighs and leaves it all in a scrunched up mess just above your knees, keeping you in place,

You can’t help but gasp as Hoseok spins you with ease and pressed himself against your bare back while you brace yourself against the shelf with heavy pants for air escaping you. Your heart is beating a hundred miles an hour, and you can feel yourself starting to tremble as the weeping tip of his length slips over the curve of your ass. Hoseok hisses at the contact, hands cupping your backside as he thrusts automatically against your flesh a second time, but the desire to be inside you finally is too strong, and he quickly leans back to tear open the condom packet and slip the latex over his length.

“Shit, baby. Arch your back for me, that’s it. Look at that fucking ass.” Words you’d never dreamt of hearing start to pour from between Hoseok’s lips, and you moan as he tilts your hips ever further, thumbs on your asscheeks pulling your flesh away to nestle the engorged tip of his length against the spot you desire him most. And the first brush of his tip against your entrance effects you so greatly, Hoseok having you so highly strung in such a short amount of time, that you instantly push back onto his length without a thought, and leave yourself crying out as his length slips inside easily. “Fucking hell!”

“O–Oh, Hobi–iihngk!” He cant help himself, the slightest parting of your warmth far too good to resist, and within moments you’re entirely impaled on his length as he buries his face into the back of your neck, hips twitching with the effort it takes to stay still. But you’re grateful for his attentiveness, because you’re sure if you starts fucking into you any faster, you’re going to detonate completely.

“You feel so much–ah! Better than I imagined, sweet thing.” His words are mumbled, words pressed hard against your skin with his lips, and you’re not entirely sure you were meant to hear him at all, because soon you can’t hear a single thing.

Hoseok’s hips piston forwards faster than you’d ever thought possible, and your knees knock together as you fight for your own place, hands scrabbling on the shelf in front of you before finally planting against the wall as you push back to meet him gently, and you do your best to muffle your whines against your arm even as the blood rushing through your ears renders you deaf. You can’t hear it, but you know you’re being too loud.

“F-Fuck, _____.” Hoseok is groaning a little too loud as well, and you have to remind yourself you’re at too high a risk of being caught. And so you reach back and twist your fingers into Hoseok’s hair and pull him forwards until you can fit his lips against your, effectively shutting you both up for the most part.

“Mmh! Mmh! Mmh!” The sweet, gasping moans you let out with every thrust of his length into your core is uncontrollable, each slap of his hips against your ass accentuated by the little sighs and moans you let out, and feeling the way you moan against his lips only drives Hoseok wilder, hips snapping forwards after his hands drop to pull you into place over his length.

“Fuck, I’m not gonna last.” Hoseok pulls back just enough to whisper against your lips, and in the next breath he’s pressing his lips to yours even tighter as his fingers slip from your hip to the apex of your thighs. The first brush of his fingers over your clitoris has you jerking away from the sheer sensitivity before you slowly melt into the shelf before you, unable to feel the way the wood digs into your ribs as you arch your back even more for him. And then he hits it.

The thick ridge of his tip catches on the little bundle of nerves hidden deep inside your core, and as his fingers tease back the hood of your clit to rub tight circles around the little sensitive pearl, you feel your walls and upper body convulse uncontrollably. The way he teases each spot perfectly, his grinding in his own special way as you clench around him tight not only driving him closer to his own release but allowing his head to heavily graze that same little special spot over and over. Everything about his movements is perfect, and with one last pinch to your clit as he presses his swollen lips against the curve of your neck, along with a deep groan of your name as his shaft starts to pulse and swell, you cum harder than you’ve been able to in a long time.

“F–uh! Ah–nnggk!” Hoseok’s hand slaps down over your mouth as you throw your head back with a wail, walls fluttering as each wave of your high rolls through you. Your hips push back, slapping even harder against Hoseok’s as you chase the pleasure his throbbing length is bringing you, but he scrambles for the control of your hips as he cries out into your neck, barely muffled by the skin beneath your ear – and then you feel it.

The deep, throbbing pulse of his length as shot after shot of his release escapes him, and you briefly wish you’d forgone the condom just to be able to feel the way his orgasm could’ve coated you from the inside out.

You’d messed up so bad. But it felt so fucking good.

#hoseok smut #jhope smut #bts smut #hoseok fanfiction #jhope fanfiction #bts fanfiction #hoseok scenarios #jhope scenarios #bts scenarios #hoseok imagines #jhope imagines #bts imagines #happy hobi day!

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inkstaineddaughter · 5 years ago

Text

Soft Drop Chapter 6: Date Night

Charlie/Reader

Fluff, SMUUUT!!!

4,171 words

Despite the evening’s earlier unpleasantness, dinner is lovely, romantic even. Charlie looks amazed when your reach for his hand on the table and lace your fingers between his. “I can actually do this here,” you remind him, smiling like an absolute goon. “Where other people can see it too.”

There’s wine before and during dinner. And then more with dessert. And while it’s not enough to get sloppy, it’s still probably too much wine. But neither of you have to drive anywhere. And you’re both so enamored with each other and with the fact that you can be enamored with each other, it’s hard to tell what’s more intoxicating.

“We’ll have to come back here,” Charlie says, glancing around the dining room after dessert. “Maybe after our shopping trip. We’ll make a whole day of it.” He does the finger quotes around the words “Shopping trip”, but it’s really not necessary. You know exactly what finger he’s talking about.

“I wonder if I could get away with wearing something on my right hand,” you muse and smile at the sight of your From Here to Eternity colored nails. They look so pretty in this light. “Until things are settled, at least. And I could switch sides.”

Charlie shrugs and reaches for your hand. “You could put it on a chain around your neck. Keep it tucked into your shirt if you need to.” You can tell he likes the Secret Engagement idea about as much as you do (or as The Vicomte de Chagny does), but you can’t help laughing out loud at the thought of the ring-necklace. “If I wear it around my neck,” you ask playfully, “Does that mean we’re going steady?” Charlie tightens his grip on your hand. “Goddamn right it does.”

After paying the bill and calling you a cab, Charlie glances once more at his phone’s home screen before turning it off. All the way off. Sliding the button all the way. This feels like a big deal. Countless times, you’ve seen him make sure the phone is on vibrate or on silent, but he’s always remained on call for hysterical actors or hysterical lawyers or in case Henry might need to talk to his dad for whatever reason. You’ve never seen him cut off that communication, even temporarily.

You feel like a giddy schoolgirl on her first date when Charlie pulls you to him and kisses you under the streetlamp outside. You have several minutes to kill before the taxi arrives and it’s dark enough and still far enough away from home that it won’t matter if someone sees you. And making out on the sidewalk is a perfectly acceptable way to pass the time, even when you are an adult.

But while it does serve to pass the time, it also serves to wrap you up into each other tighter. Even without the wine, you’re drunk on his touch, how his lips taste as you slide your tongue over them. Soon your hands find their way up under his jacket and you’re tugging on the back of his shirt as you pant into his open mouth.

It’s only a few feet to the alley that runs alongside the building and it isn’t long until Charlie pulls you into the darkness and presses you against the wall. He has you immobilized, trapped between his own body (with the very obvious hardness between his legs) and the building. “God, I love you so much!” he murmurs into your hair as he drags your leg up and hooks it over his. His hand slides up your skirt and, again stretches the elastic in your panties as he rubs it over your ass. “I don’t even want to go back home tonight,” he whines as he kneads into your soft flesh. “It’ll take too long. I just want to stop at the first cheap motel we see, get a room and just make you come all night long. Fuck you on every surface.”

And for the first time, it doesn’t feel like the next logical step in the Evolution of Charlie and (Y/N), long-time platonic BFF’s. It doesn’t feel like a one-time lapse in judgement or even like a selfish and unethical mid-divorce relationship (Jesus, could you keep your legs closed for just a little bit longer?) It feels like lying and cheating. It’s dirty like an honest-to-God affair. And holy shit, it’s hot as hell!

You want him to fuck you in every single seedy motel you can find, in every dark alley. In rehearsal spaces, before anyone else has arrived, when he tastes like coffee and toothpaste. Thrusting hard into you with his hand pressed over your mouth with Nicole and Henry in the next room. You don’t care who gets hurt anymore or what collateral damage it will cause. Not at the expense of your own pleasure. Or his. You need each other! And you deserve this.

The counter in the motel lobby is shiny and you watch the pattern of smudges appear and disappear as Charlie drums his fingers impatiently against the surface. The desk clerk gives you a knowing look as she runs your credit card. The same look the taxi driver gave you when Charlie yanked you into the backseat and demanded, “Just whatever’s closest.” You’re not fooling anybody tonight.

Charlie paces the floor of the small room; he shuffles the brochures in the rack by the door. Your purple pashmina has somehow ended up around his neck. The clerk must either think he’s on drugs or he’s out gallivanting with “The Other Woman”. She’s partially right. And if you weren’t so sickeningly in love with him, you’d have to admit how ridiculous he looks.

Maybe your smile is more of a smirk as the clerk slides the key card across the counter and Charlie is already pulling on your hand. Maybe they both notice you hesitate as you sign the receipt. No, you’re not committing credit card fraud. Just seized by the sudden urge to write “(Y/N) Barber” on the slip of paper.

You get a glimpse of the room as you flick on the light and toss your purse onto the bed. It’s small, but clean at least, if not fancy. Nondescript, “artsy” prints decorate the walls and the bed is covered with an itchy looking floral comforter. Not sleazy, but standard.

The door isn’t even locked yet, when Charlie pushes you up against it and presses hard into you. “I love this pussy,” he moans as he pushes your leg up and slides his hand down into your panties. Poor guy, he’s been trying to get into there all night. And you both sigh with relief as he finally slides his fingers as far as they’ll go into you. “What about this?” you tease, running your left ring finger over his lips. All the earlier talk of rings and weddings has you feeling bold and much more bratty than normal. “Do you love this too?”

“Fuck yeah, that too,” Charlie pants enthusiastically as his fingers pump in and out of you. He kisses the tip of your finger then sucks it gently into his mouth, before moving his lips onto your neck. “I’ll marry you the second this is over; I swear to God I will!” he babbles into your skin. “Fuck, I’ll even knock you up if you want.” You moan loudly and grind down onto his fingers. God, that sounds so.... wait no! No, it doesn’t! What are you doing? You have a career and a house plant and a soon to be divorced boyfriend that all need attention. There’s no way in hell that some poor unsuspecting baby is getting thrown into that mix.

And you say the first words that pop into your head when your head is completely muddled. “I’ll already have a kid,” you sigh as Charlie’s fingers rub over your g-spot. “I’ll have Henry. He’ll be yours and mine then.” You’re well aware, of course, that lots of women have their daddy kinks, Freudian Electra Complexes or a single mother childhood with no father figures. Whatever the cause is, more power to those women.

It had never occurred to you though, that men would have their own version, their own fatherhood fetish that may be more than just evolutionary. But you seem to have hit some kind of hot button in Charlie. And if you didn’t know any better, you would swear he was actually coming himself. He groans loudly into your hair. Curls his fingers into you and yanks your pelvis toward him.

As impractical and hormonal as the fantasy is, it’s still a difficult picture to get out of your head. Charlie getting you pregnant while still not totally divorced. You imagine yourself with just the slightest hint of a baby bump, maybe picking up or dropping off Henry. Watching Nicole watch you while Charlie’s hand hovers protectively over your stomach. She knows. She can do the math.

It’s so vindictive and disgusting and it only takes a few more thrusts of his fingers, a bit more pressure on your g-spot before you’re coming hard around him, your pussy sucking his fingers deeper into you. As your orgasm peaks, your curled toes barely reaching the floor, you think of dear Nicole and your “He already has a mother” moment from that morning. And he’s about to have two mothers soon, bitch and you know exactly where you fit in this equation.

“I love that you do that,” Charlie says after you’ve finished. He licks your cum from his fingers, taking the time to suck each one clean. “Without a doubt, it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“You’re the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” you mutter sleepily and look up at him from where you’d collapsed on the bed. And it’s absolutely true. Even without getting off himself, he’s still glowing. It always amazes you how much he seems to genuinely love making you feel good. And very seldom asks for anything in return.

“Sorry about the mess, though,” you add as he takes off his jacket and tosses it on the bed next to you. Charlie pauses rolling his sleeves up and shrugs as you stare at his wet shirt cuff in dismay. “I don’t plan on keeping it on for that much longer anyway.” He grabs the bucket from off the desk. “And honestly? I kind of like the idea of keeping your cum on me. At least for now. KitKat, right?” You nod. It didn’t take him long to figure out what your favorite after-sex indulgence is. “Chocolate for my lady.” Charlie briefly squeezes one of your feet from where they hang off the edge of the bed and goes off in search of ice and junk food.

Your panties are almost a lost cause, soaked with your cum and the elastic stretched out from Charlie’s enormous hand. But the trip back home in the morning will be awkward enough without attempting to go commando. You fill one of the sinks with warm water and throw the offending garment in, figuring you’ll let them soak and hang them in the shower later to dry.

Leaving the bathroom door open, you turn the hot water up, peel off your sweaty dress and step into the shower. You don’t make much progress with the scratchy washcloth and tiny bar of soap, but it feels good to at least rinse off some of the various bodily fluids.

You’re attempting to scrub whatever makeup you hadn’t already cried off, when you hear Charlie come into the room. “Hi,” you greet him, tugging the curtain back. He’s left his own clothes in the bedroom, standing there in just his boxers, as they make a noble effort to contain his already-swollen cock, even with the wet spot of precum that spreads across the fabric. “Your Kitkat is on your pillow,” he says in a low voice. You love how quickly you established who has which side of the bed and how automatic it became.

“You want to come in?” you ask, holding out the scratchy washcloth invitingly. But Charlie shakes his head, looking dazed as he takes in your wet hair, watches the soapy bubbles as they slide down your tits and how the cold air from the room makes your nipples hard. He only has to reach for you and his hand is on the back of your head and you stand up on your toes and press your wet lips into his.

You love the feel of his muscles twitching as you run your soggy hand down his stomach, dripping water onto him and onto the floor as you reach down into his shorts and wrap your fingers around him. God, he’s so big! You wonder almost every time, when you first see or feel his hard cock, how it’s going to fit anywhere and not tear you in half. But it always does. Fitting and filling and stretching so nicely. It’s always perfect.

Charlie doesn’t fuck you in the shower. Not for lack of trying though. But every position is too awkward, you’re too far away from each other or you’re getting water up your nose. Finally, he just lifts you out, wet hair and all and leaves the shower running. Charlie leans you over the double vanity and you push back, grinding against him as he slides into your dripping (more so than usual) pussy. The mirror is fogged up and you realize you don’t even have a toothbrush and you can see your panties are still in the sink, floating like a black lacy jellyfish.

He bends his knees so he can thrust up even deeper into you and you can feel the head of his cock push into your cervix on every thrust. “Oh God!” you pant as Charlie reaches around your waist and pulls you even tighter against him. “Oh please.” The deep penetration at this angle is too, too good and you lean your head against your arm on the counter, closing your eyes and focusing on not screaming and waking other guests through the paper-thin walls.

“Hey.” Charlie runs his hand up your back and you lift your head to look at his blurry reflection behind you. He curls his body over yours and presses a kiss into your shoulder. “I love you.”

Later, you ride him lazily in the bed. You’re both exhausted and you’ve already got a wine-headache, but you can’t seem to keep your hands off each other. It’s almost like that first night. You watch the flickery blue from the TV moving across Charlie’s face and you marvel again at how freaking gorgeous he is! With his mouth partway open and his eyes following the motion of your breasts.

“Wait, hold on,” Charlie suddenly directs you and gently taps your leg. “Move for a minute?” You climb off, mildly curious, but assuming that he’s just going to turn you around so you can both watch The Andy Griffith Show. “No, move up,” he coaxes, lightly pressing into the back of your thigh with one hand and stroking his cock with the other. You shuffle up the bed toward him and are surprised when he lifts your knee over his shoulder and guides your position over his face. But you hesitate, almost leaning away from him.

“You know, the last time I did this, the other party was not very pleased with the uumm… results.” You remember how your then-boyfriend had spluttered and frantically wiped his face after you’d unexpectedly come all over him. And even if it was only joking, him calling you Tsunami (Y/N) afterward still stung. “I almost died that night!” he would tease.

“Apparently, porn lies,” you whisper, dramatically. “Did you know that? It turns out, not everyone wants a squirter. Even if they say they do.” Charlie sighs and you feel his chest rise and fall underneath you. Despite your hesitation, this position, spread open and towering over him, is actually really turning you on. You’re certain he can feel the heat from your pussy, can smell your arousal and you bite your lip as your stare down at him. He’s not easy to resist like this. He’s really not all that easy to resist anyway. And he’s making you so, so wet already.

“Any guy who doesn’t want you all the time is a fucking idiot,” Charlie explains matter-of-factly. He runs his hands up your thighs and lightly squeezes your ass. “You are so perfect and everything you do is sexy as hell.” He turns his head, cranes his neck so he can lick at the drop of fluid running down your thigh. “I’ll set my alarm early every morning if it means I can drink your cum before breakfast.”

“Jesus Christ, Charlie,” you whisper, your heart pounding. Mild-mannered father by day and creative genius by night were both common knowledge, but it was a surprise to learn that he could be downright vulgar in bed! And you can already feel yourself sinking, knees spreading as you lower yourself onto him. In the dim light, you watch the features that you love so much, the full lips and pointy nose, disappear underneath you.

“It’s okay, Baby. I’ve got you.” you hear Charlie whisper, before he raises his head and seals his mouth against you. Oh, but you love him! The knowledge that you always have loved him doesn’t hit you like a train, sending pieces flying everywhere. It rises like a fresnel lantern on a darkened stage, gradually coming up on a scene so by the time it’s fully lit, you can’t picture it ever having not been there.

During your reasonably short time together, you had discovered and fully embraced Charlie’s propensity for eating your pussy and you’d long become accustomed to his preferred methods and positions. Spread open, pink and wet and waiting. On the bed after its been made or kneeling in front of you, making it impossible to stay focused on Stanley Kubrick Movie Night. Maybe it’s the different position this time, how gravity plays its own role. But he doesn’t even bother with the preliminary kissing and licking, instead pulling you right down onto his tongue.

“Oh my God!” you gasp as he pushes into you as deep as he can go. Which is to say, pretty deep. Holy shit, is there anything about this guy that isn’t long and strong and down to get the friction on? As he wraps his arms around your thighs, you brace your hands on the headboard. Of course, in an establishment like this, the headboard is just a board bolted to the wall. A fucking wallboard. Although, if Charlie keeps up what he’s doing with his entire tongue in your pussy, you may just end up ripping the whole thing out.

For the moment though, you can only sit frozen atop him, frozen, as you adjust to the sensation. Your cunt squeezes tight around his tongue. And you’re certain that Charlie must be able to feel your pulse through your walls as he begins moving his tongue in rhythm to your throbbing.

He runs his (gigantic!) hands over your waist and hips, soothing your tense muscles as his lips begin working your lips, opening you up further. Just like anything else between you, it’s a reflex, it’s instinctual and it seems to happen on its own. The most delicate and subtle motion of your hips begins almost entirely of your body’s own accord. By the time you intentionally and experimentally roll against him, Charlie hums up into you. In satisfaction. And encouragement.

It feels like only a matter of seconds before whatever trepidation you were feeling melts away entirely and you’re riding his tongue with fervor, fucking yourself on it the same way you’ve ridden his cock so many times. And when you start to lose your breath, you relax, grinding your clit into him as he reaches behind you, massages your ass and pulls your cheeks apart.

Your orgasm is approaching quickly. You can feel it as it flows through your veins, collecting heat in your cunt. And Charlie must be able to feel how your walls tighten around his tongue because, damn him, he seems to double his efforts, somehow snaking his tongue even farther into you, pressing the tip into your g-spot and lapping at your walls.

You scramble for the headboard, try to brace yourself, balance yourself, but it’s too slippery under your sweating palms and your nails scratch uselessly against the wood. Below you and between your spread legs, Charlie’s dark hair spreads across the pillow case and his eyes are closed like he’s in the middle of meditating. He’s there and he’s solid and you gently sink your fingers into his hair. His eyes open at your touch and you feel him smile, feel the corners of his lips turn up as he increases the pressure and suction against you. And your breath catches and your fingers clench in his hair, yanking hard on those lovely soft strands as you shove his face into your cunt. You don’t care, you don’t care, it’s Charlie and you’re going to marry him and you’re going to come so fucking hard on his tongue, down his throat and…. How much of that did you actually say out loud?

Charlie angles his head up, so his nose brushes your clit and you’re certain that one of you is going to pass away. Either Charlie from asphyxiation or you from the sheer force of the orgasm that’s about to hit you, that’s making your heart pound and your thighs shake. And that’s it. The building pressure and heat release and fuck! You’re coming. You feel yourself squeezing and contracting, exploding! And you look down expecting to see another mess, another gasping, spluttering boyfriend. And nothing. Below you, Charlie’s eyes are closed again and his brow knit in a look of dreamy concentration as he positively sucks your cum down. Why does he do that? It’s so fucking gorgeous when he does that?!

Your walls are still fluttering as you lift your hips and allow him to slip out from under you. And you feel the corners of your stupid eyes prick with tears. Even as Charlie is gently guiding you to lie back down beside him, you press your hand over your mouth to keep from laughing out loud. Even Mariah Carey has never felt emotions like these!

He doesn’t miss the sniffle from you. Fucking bastard should be all too familiar with the sound by now “Okay?” he whispers. “Yeah!” you breathe, watching the popcorn ceiling as the TV’s muted light dances across it, before you roll over onto your side to face him. “That was really intense, though. And it’s been a long day and just… ugh! So many feels, you know?” Charlie wipes the back of his hand across his mouth and nose, rubbing off the majority of your slick, but doesn’t seem worried about jumping up to wash his face and he really does love leaving your cum on him, doesn’t he?

“Have I ever told you how much I love your habit of randomly talking like a 14-year-old?” Charlie asks as he sits up against the headboard/wallboard. “God, really?!” you ask. Sometimes, you’re aware of students’ language and mannerisms rubbing off on you. And sometimes you can turn it off. But not always. “I drive my mom crazy,” you continue. “She thinks I sound completely uneducated.” Even in the dim light, you see Charlie roll his eyes almost affectionately. “Your mom,” he mutters, shaking his head.

“It’s an occupational hazard, I swear.” And it’s true. Most days after getting home from work, your vocabulary is usually a combination of Othello and Urban Dictionary. “And, in my defense,” you continue. “Michelangelo’s La Pieta is hella fuckin sick.” Charlie’s bare chest rises and falls as he huffs out a laugh. Damn, he’s got a nice chest. “I really can’t argue that point,” he says. “It’s absolutely true.” A nice chest and impeccable taste in art.

He yawns and stretches as he rolls over to grab the remote for the nightstand. “We should probably try to sleep at some point, shouldn’t we?” On the TV, Andy Griffith has been replaced by an infomercial where the host is entirely too excited about a vacuum cleaner. It’s kind of uncomfortable to watch and you’re grateful when Charlie turns off the TV, leaving the room lit only by the orange-y artificial light from outside.

Settling himself on his side of the bed, Charlie automatically holds his arms out and you automatically curl up against him with your head on his chest. “No diamonds,” he says softly as he pulls the blankets up over you. “No birthstone. Father-Daughter dance.” Several minutes pass in silence, but his arms still tighten around you when you whisper back into his skin, “And the perfect, most outlandish wedding dress.”

#Marriage Story #new girlfriend story #Charlie Barber #Charlie/Reader #It feels good to write again #Adam Driver #And me because let's face it it's total self insert!

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normal-thoughts-official · 5 years ago

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Pornstars!AU where Magnus and Alec have been shamelessly flirting for sometime but haven’t done a scene together even though everyone has been clamoring for it. They finally get together and it is...wow! Everything and more. Alec makes Magnus cum so much that he’s shaking by the end of the scene and Alec has to stop a couple of times cuz Magnus’ cunt feels so good and he knows he’ll cum too soon if he keeps going.

god, the rest of the world wishes they got anons like mine. ilysm. please keep these coming, y’all

okay, so i’m thinking - camboys instead of pornstars? just because i think with like Actual Big Budget Porn it would be harder for this to happen, like, organically, with the director being there and there being like a script and shit

but it could be indie porn, or just big ole’ cam stuff. In the cam stuff case they would be pretty much responsible for themselves so i guess i’m going with that? anyway.

alec’s a bit more seasoned than magnus is, so when magnus starts doing cam stuff alec’s already got kind of a fanbase. magnus watches his stuff sometimes too - look, he’s only human, and Alec is hot and has a nice dick, and isn’t afraid to moan like most toppy guys are, and he just likes the way Alec seems to just. completely get into it and melt and relax. and he says some filthy things to the camera, too, smirks at it and asks how they like seeing his touch his dick, tells them he wishes he had a warm mouth to fuck into instead. and magnus is into that stuff, sue him.

alec also does a few feature films, sometimes. not all the time and there aren’t many “regulars” but he does

magnus doesn’t really. he doesn’t feel comfortable yet, and he likes to feel like he has some control. he’s been in some pretty unpleasant situations with camille - not related to sex work, actually way before he started working with that - so he likes to protect himself. not to mention being a trans brown guy - and a bottom - in this line of work can bring some unpleasant situations (when doesn’t it?) if he isn’t careful, so he won’t trust just anybody to do a feature live with him.

what he does do, though, is take requests. that’s what gets him most of his money, really, and this way he gets to choose what he takes or doesn’t take - but usually people are reasonable, and generous, too. also, there’s something hot about touching himself exactly as someone says - it’s no secret he’s a sub, and he enjoys being told what to do, watched and praised by his followers. the money and gifts don’t hurt, either. all in all, it’s a win-win arrangement, and he enjoys it a lot.

he also does some Q&As sometimes, and at some point, someone asks him whether he watches other people. magnus mentions alec, which is- really not a big deal. he’s pretty popular and well-known, it’s not weird.

after that, he gets a request to film himself jacking off to one of alec’s videos.

he takes it.

and it EXPLODES

the fact that alec’s name, which is a pretty well-searched term, is in it, helps, of course. the algorithm shows it to more people. but the video is also just plain-old good. magnus moans so prettily and is very responsive to the stuff alec says in the vid, and he’s clearly very lost in pleasure and he just looks beautiful.

up to this point, he wasn’t very popular, but he had his little niche of fans who were pretty loyal, and very generous. gotta have some incentive, after all.

but with that video he skyrockets and gets a lot of new subscribers and yup alec sees it

(cue, like, ten hours of him salivating)

somebody eventually asks alec whether he’s seen the video and alec’s like “hm yes” and kinda smirks at the camera like “you know, if you ever wanna do a feat, hit me up” and everyone loses their fucking shit over it, of course. two of the hottest camboys on the site! and they have a similar style and kinks and you could just tell, like, that their chemistry would have been amazing

the clamor for them to do a feat only rises and rises so eventually magnus ends up messaging him and they start to talk. but he doesn’t want to do a feat, at least not yet. he doesn’t feel ready as a whole and i mean - alec is cis and white. he’s gotta make sure he’s comfortable

and alec is super understanding and never pressures him or even asks him about it, really, they just start to talk. so they’re like chatting privately and quickly becoming friends, and also doing this whole thing where they’ll flirt like crazy on camera and leave messages for each other and stuff, because 1- it’s funny; 2- it draws attention when they do it and that’s more money for the both of them.

they don’t really flirt when they’re chatting privately, though. they just talk like two people. eventually they even exchange phone numbers so they can talk better. they become actual friends, and they talk about everything from their work to just silly stuff. magnus tells alec about his plans to become a pharmacist, about his studies on medicinal properties of snake venom, but they also talk about stuff like the shows they watch, how annoying alec’s sister izzy is, they probably play something dumb like online uno once and almost kill each other. alec also gives magnus some tips since he’s a bit more seasoned. they also laugh at the little jabs and flirts they leave for each other in their vids, you know, stuff like that

anyway, it’s kind of a more slow burn thing, especially for magnus - who’s still a little wary - but they’re slowly falling in love, in that way that feels so natural that you don’t even realize it for a while. they meet a couple of times, and don’t do anything - they just live in neighboring towns, or maybe the same, big city? anyway - they just hang out and talk and laugh and it’s cute and fun

eventually magnus decides he trusts alec enough to try, especially since - well, alec’s hot. and they are, hm, compatible, sex-wise. so they sit and have a talk and discuss what they are willing to do or not and kind of reach a few agreements, you know, that sorta stuff. very professional and all that.

well, they do the do and it’s like holy shit. it’s electric and they have so much chemistry and understand each other so well, which - shouldn’t come as a surprise since they’re friends, right? but it does, and magnus, like, completely forgets about the camera tbh - which is the opposite of a problem because it only makes him more vocal and loud and everybody loves that

and at this point magnus is kind of touch-starved because damn, it’s been a while, and alec is all like “fixing that is my number one purpose in life”, so he touches magnus all over, runs his hands over his body, shows him off to the camera a bit (he’s lucky and he knows it, all right), kisses him, pulls his hair and fucks him good. and magnus comes and comes and comes until he’s pretty much a crying mess, and alec has to frequently slow the pace and pretend he’s doing it just to tease magnus and hear his needy little noises (and he is, at least partially) but really he’s just gonna come at any minute now because magnus is so fucking beautiful and feels so fucking good under him

eventually the video ends, and magnus is just lying boneless on the bed, all like “holy shit,” and alec is just like “damn, that one got a lot of views, i think it might have broken my record already” and that’s when they both realize that they had, like, completely forgotten about how that was just a work thing, they were so wrapped up in each other. and that’s probably when it dawns on the both of them that they may have fallen in love.

fun! terrifying! but fuck their lives, right, because the horny community is very into this stuff and it was, objectively speaking, fucking amazing. cue them becoming sorta friends-slash-coworkers with benefits and, hm. pining.

(i just love mutual pining okay. let me live)

they usually save the kinkier stuff to do on camera but they begin to- have sex off-camera. just for fun. scratching an itch! and in the off-camera sex they are just. clearly making love. like clearly. there’s no other way to describe the way alec holds him, or the way magnus moans alec’s name, or the reverent touches alec leaves on him that are just slow and feel imprinted all over magnus’ body. but neither of them really realize that

until, i guess, at some point they’re doing some request that’s more vanilla and they forget the camera’s there again and they end up having that almost heartbreakingly tender sex? and everyone is like “hm,” and eventually afterwards they both watch the video and are like “oh fuck”. magnus is like mortified because it’s so obvious that he’s got a crush god damn it, but then alec asks him out and oaduhsudajsdams look i love those idiot nerds. anyway that’s a happy ever after for the both of them and they become the porn world’s most amazing power couple the end

#ask #anonymous #sh #shadowhunters #malec #long post #smut #trans magnus smut #trans magnus bane #malec smut #magnus bane #alec lightwood #malec au #ficlet #fic idea #anyone can and should feel free to write this #camboys au

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alarriefantasy · 6 years ago

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Hey! Was wondering if you could do a rev specifically for “my brother’s best friend” or “my best friend’s brother” ? Would really appreciate it! Thanks a lot! ❤️

I love this concept a whole bunch!!!!! Yes, I do have recs! :) :) :)

Sibling’s Best Friend / Best Friend’s Sibling Fic Rec

I Still Believe It's You and Me by Stylinsonvodka

Words: 1k

The one where Louis is fifteen and pretty as hell and takes it upon himself to seduce his best friends older brother.

Best friends brother💙 by heyidkyay

Words: 2k

Harry and Lottie had been best friends since they were little, they told eachother everything, even the embarrassing stuff like liking your best friends older brother! When Lottie’s older brother, Louis, returns from uni will he look at Harry any differently or will he still see the same boy he left behind?

Turn The Lights Out by 1DirectionGaySmut

Words: 3k

Or the one where Louis gets fucked by his best friend’s older brother.

Girl Crush by writingstylinson

Words: 3k

Marcela is nothing more than Gemma's little nerdy sister. Louise is one of Gemma's best friend.

Marcela and Louise are in totally opposite worlds until they aren't. Thank you, Tumblr.

We'll be late again by Niall_Princess_Horan

Words: 3k

PROMPT -omega (or normal au) louis aka bottom louis is a cutie and adorable, and harry styles (alpha aka top) his older brother's best friend start noticing him and whatever and is a over protective, jealous and lovable cuteass boyfriend ho worships louis and louis is has low self esteem and he helps him idk louis is smol and adorable HEIGHT DIFFERENCE bye

harder to hide than i thought by dangerbears

Words: 6k

ridiculous self-indulgent high school au. louis's best friend's little brother suddenly got very attractive.

All Hearts Come Home For Christmas by itsprobablylarry

Words: 8k

Basically: Gemma brings ‘her boyfriend’, Louis, home for Christmas and her brother is really hot.

Be a Good Girl For Me by wannabebestseller

Words: 9k

Based on this prompt: “AU where Harry is Louis’ older brother’s best friend. He catches Louis dancing around his room in panties and blackmails him, saying that louis has to do anything he says or else he’ll tell Louis’ family that he wears girly underwear. Secretly soft for him, Harry gives him easy tasks and uses the whole thing to spend more time with Louis. Eventually, the orders begin to escalate and Harry teases Lou about his secret, making Louis shy and embarrassed. Louis loves the attention though, and forms a crush on his brother’s best friend. Lots of feminization, secret relationship, and enemies to lovers. Thank you!”

Dirty Little Secret by therogueskimo

Words: 10k

Or the one where Harry and Louis fall in love, but can’t figure out how to tell Gemma. That is, until Harry gets pregnant, and they don’t have much of a choice.

Promise To Treasure Me. by SS98

Words: 13k

“Leave me the Hell alone, Harry.” Louis grumbled; nobody needed a seer to sense his irritation. The boy had just gotten home from a poorly scheduled lecture on campus, to find his best friend’s brother also in the elevator.

Unfortunately for him, Harry is miles of persistence stuffed into a six foot three tattooed body that was the face of their university’s rugby team. Everyone loved him for his ability to dominate a game as the captain, and the dean thought Harry’s four year degree would not be enough. Harry is also the older brother to the only friend Louis had through high school, Gemma, which meant his shared apartment had to be opened up to this ghastly character as well.

“You do not get to insult me publicly and walk off.” Harry all but growled when he tried cornering Louis against the refrigerator.

Let Me Give You My Life by midnightskies

Words: 14k

Gemma has one rule for Louis while he stays with her family at Christmas; not to hook up with her little brother, so of course that's the one thing Louis does.

i don't wanna be your friend, i wanna kiss your neck by crybaby

Words: 19k

Harry is a hopelessly romantic omega and Louis is his sister's best friend)

My Best Friend's Brother by RuinedBy5Guys

Words: 24k

This whole situation really started back around seventh grade when Gemma and Harry found it hilarious to sit me down and watch scary movies together. It always started off fine, but as soon as someone was whacked into pieces or running from some creepy guy, I would lose my shit. At first I didn’t think anything of it, considering boys never really seemed to pay much attention to me. But in my moment of fear, Harry always was right beside me. At first it was just casually sitting next to me, his leg pressed closed to mine, and his laughter addicting as soon as I would start to freak out. But then it turned into blanket sharing and our whole sides pressed together, while I strained my neck looking as far away from the TV as I could. Harry would play it off so casually, slipping his hand down onto mine and wrapping our fingers together, as if his sister wasn’t sitting right across from us on the other couch. I guess I should have realized then that I was getting myself into a pretty stupid situation. Because although I never admitted it until eight years later, I was falling hard for my best friends brother.

Pillow Talk by FallingLikeThis

Words: 25k

Or When Harry starts having confusing feelings for a male classmate, his sister's best friend, Louis, helps him figure himself out. Cue lots of kissing, sex, and falling in love.

darling, you give love a bad name by snowcaplou

Words: 28k

Louis' has been best friends with Gemma all his life in this stupid little town he's grown to hate. What happens when, after one night together with his best friend's brother, he falls pregnant? Surrounded by small minds and conservative cultures, Louis has to deal with parents that demand they do the "right" thing. Get married before anybody finds out.

Baby, What a Big Surprise by kiwikero

Words: 33k

Or, the one where shy, quiet Harry has no idea he's a carrier, and a one night stand with the most popular boy in school shows him just how wrong he was.

Featuring Lottie as Harry's best friend, Niall as her boyfriend, and, of course, Louis as the popular boy with a soft spot for his little sister's quirky friend.

With the Rising Sun by Tomlinsontoes

Words: 33k

Louis had been living in NYC for two years now while studying at NYU, and was probably the least social 21-year-old ever. Somehow he got roped into his sister's brilliant idea of getting her college best friend to help him branch out and meet people. Only there was one problem — Harry Styles is like the hottest thing on two legs and Louis' not ready to see a much older version of the boy who filled his fantasies as a teenager.

We Got The World Shaking by FutureMrsHaroldStyles

Words: 39k

Or the one where Harry goes into heat at his best friend Lottie's birthday party and her big brother helps him out.

Reeling Through The Fall by zarah5

Words: 40k

AU. They hate each other. Except for when they don’t.

Lottie’s Brother by teenagedirtbag28

Words: 51k

The one where Harry Styles falls for his best friends older brother: Louis Tomlinson. When his best friend; Lottie finds out about his crush, she’s surprisingly not mad but wants to help Harry get closer to Louis, and make them fall in love.

Want You More Than A by TheCellarDoor

Words: 77k

Falling in love with your step-brother’s best friend is a disaster enough. When he happens to be the boy everyone loves and you’re a nerd who wears sweater vests and cries during rom-coms, it takes it to a whole new level.

It's Safer In The Dark by aace1234

Words: 79k

Louis Tomlinson is a 17 year old High School student who is constantly bullied. He is raised by his four older brothers and keeps them in the dark about his school life.

Harry Styles is a 20 year old who is repeating his Senior year of High school. He is extremely popular and is best friends with Louis older brother Niall.

Louis has a major crush on Harry. Does Harry feel the same way? Will Harry find out about what Louis is going through at school?

Best Friend's Brother by DirtyLarryStylinson

Words: 85k

When Harry Styles realises that his best friend, Liam, has an older brother hotter than the sun itself, how will he cope with the tension?

Bloodline by banana_louis

Words: 177k

Louis doesn't know how to feel when his best friend, Liam, finds out about a brother that he never knew, who was placed for adoption before he was born and is bursting into his life at twenty-four years old.

Louis is very wary of the man who might replace him. He has always thought of Liam as his own brother.

What if Liam doesn't need him anymore? What if there's no room for Louis? After all, blood runs thicker than water.

Louis doesn't like Liam's new brother and he doesn't even know him. That's irrelevant, though.

He doesn't like him. He doesn't trust him. He doesn't want him hanging around. He doesn't want anything to do with him.

That is, until he meets him.

♡ updated: 04.21.21

♡ credit to the owner of the manip

♡ past themed recs here

#ask

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sm-entertain-me · 6 years ago

Text

Liquid Courage (M)

Requested by @sarangtae-vante: Hey love hope you've been doing well:) I'm back with another Taehyung imagine where you go the same university and he have always caught your eye and you've been observing him from afar and your friends used to tease you etc etc then one day you hit the club and were he was there with his friends make them meet anyhow idc then things ended up getting heated (dom sub is possible ) *enter jungkookie wink ;)* thank you so much

(A/N: Ugh I’ve been doing okay. Got some school shit that went down. I\’M SO SORRY I DIDN’T HAVE TIME TO WRITE THIS BECAUSE I HAD OTHER STUFF QUEUED AND MEHHHH. But I am back so here we goooo!)

Contains: Kim Taehyung x (f) reader, university!au, adult language, smut, sexual themes, depictions of sex, exhibitionism, mirror kink, quick sex, unprotected sex, cum eating.

Synopsis: Taehyung was the kind of guy you were way too shy to ever approach in normal circumstances. But add a little Liquid Courage and the constant pestering of your friends and you start to lighten up a bit... Maybe a little too much?

“Drink it!” Your friends shouted at you as the three of you remained glued to the bar of the hottest club in town. To be honest, they were all pretty popular given the only purpose of this town was to cater to the needs of drunk and horny college students, but who are you to judge? Especially since you’re currently chugging down a shot of tequila and wincing as the liquid burns down your throat. The look on your face was rather painful looking as you looked desperately for something to wash the taste out of your mouth, or to at least cool down the increasing temperature of your throat.

Alas, your friends just stood idly by and laughed at the pained expression on your face, refusing to give you the complimentary lime like decent human beings. “You two are evil,” You groaned as you looked to the bartender to help you out with your situation, the bartender nodding understandingly as he shoved a mini bowl of limes in your direction, earning a swift thank you from you as you sucked desperately on the lime for some relief.

As you turned to your friends to chastise them, you noticed that both of them had left you alone. Your eyes darted from each end of the bar in search of them but ended up empty, you sighing in annoyance as you played with your empty shot glass, thinking of ways to get back at them if you ever did find them. They’ve been known to ditch you in hopes of getting themselves laid, but this was the one time you were willing to let loose in the best kind of ways and this is how they repay you? They forced you to drink the worst tasting drink, refused to give you a lime to calm the burning in your throat, and left you alone at the bar like some chump? What the hell?

After a couple minutes of contemplating how to handle the situation, your thoughts were cut short when a small hand gripped at the muscle of your shirt, whipping you around with a lot more force than you would’ve like since you were steadily building up a buzz from the alcohol you consumed.

When your body was completely turned around, you came face to face with the very people who left you and three more guys who you’d seen around campus before, one of which caused your throat to tighten up the minute you saw his light brown eyes staring right back at you. The one who caused such a reaction was none other than the university’s most popular student, Dean’s List holder, and talented football player Kim Taehyung. Shit.

“Y/N! We’d like you to meet a couple of our friends,” Taylor sang out to you as she was semi-grinding against the boy who stood behind her, the boy in question holding her by her hip and pressing his crotch against her ass. You sighed to your drunken friends, rolling your eyes at their shameless ways of getting into the guys’ pants, “Yeah, I already know them. Hi Hoseok, Jimin.”

You made sure to skip over Taehyung as you didn’t feel like you were worthy of speaking to him, especially since you had the biggest crush on him since high school and your friends would constantly make fun of you for being so head over heels for someone who didn’t even know your name until he needed to copy your lecture notes.

“What about me?” Taehyung asked with a chuckle in his voice as he sipped on his red solo cup, making sure to look you in the eyes as he spoke in order to get a read on you. He needed to figure you out a little bit before he started his quest of getting you all riled up. Of course your friends had promised that he would get laid like the rest of his friends, but he needed some time to gauge the situation because as of right now, you didn’t exactly look ready to accept his advances.

“Oh, hi Tae, I didn’t see you there,” You lied, giving him a fake smile that seemed as real as it could get, trying to avoid the awkwardness of this situation altogether. Your friends were already rolling their eyes at you since they knew damn well by the way your jaw tightened upon seeing Taehyung that you were lying, but that doesn’t need to be shared with anybody else.

Still, your friends grabbed you by the wrist as they chorused, “Come on, Y/N! The guys wanna dance and Taehyung is without a partner. Are you really going to leave him hanging?” Your eyes flew over to Taehyung as you drank in his appearance: simple white tee with a figure fitting leather jacket, tight jeans that showcased every dip of his leg muscles... He was looking mighty fine. A little too fine for your liking.

Normally, you would say no to dancing with Taehyung in fear of embarrassing yourself, but you just couldn’t help letting your mind wander to what could come of just having a little fun. Another factor in your decision making was the fact that your inhibitions were lowered thanks to two beers and a tequila shot, so you were feeling real good about dancing with Taehyung. Confident, even.

So you nodded your head at the group as your friends squealed, happy that they could continue to tease the boys they were with in hopes of getting their bones jumped later. Taehyung chuckled at their reaction as he looked over at you with a kind smile, extending his hand out to grab yours, “May I have this dance, my lady?”

The affect the music had over your body was nothing short of euphoric as you swayed your hips to and fro, maintaining a dangerous amount of eye contact with Taehyung as your body writhed in front of him. Taehyung’s eyes were focusing on the way your face evoked pure bliss and how you would bite your lip as you ran your hand down the supple skin of your breasts and all the way down to your hips, him licking his lips at how delicious you looked. The longer you danced like that in front of him, the harder he got in his pants, and he was determined to let you know one way or another.

You soon felt a pair of hands on your waist and were quickly turned around, Taehyung leaning forward to push his erection against the swell of your ass. He kept one hand firm on your hip while the other one snaked up to your hair, giving you a slight pull as he swayed your hips for you, groaning out when you started to push your ass even harder against his cock to feel it throb through the layers of clothing.

“Fuck baby, don’t do that. You’ll be in a lot of trouble if you keep doing that to me,” Taehyung growled in your ear as he moved a piece of your hair away from your neck, exposing the bare skin to his plump lips. A small moan fell from your lips as Taehyung began to work on the column of your neck, still being focused and burying his cock in between your clothed cheeks to let his intentions be known. That action alone caused your panties to become slick as you pushed your ass even harder against his cock to let him know that you were not going to back down any time soon. Not that he minded. Taehyung loved the feeling of your ass pushing his cock from side to side as he worked it hard against you, moaning out from the pleasure it gave him.

Now that the both of your were completely high in the sky from your pleasures, Taehyung stopped sucking your neck to form painful hues of red and opted to licking the shell of your ear before he growled, “You’re getting me so worked up baby. How about we take this to the bathroom and you help me with the mess you’ve made? You’re just begging to take my cock.”

Again, the liquid courage that was surging through your body had you more than happy to have a one night stand with the university’s star pupil. Licking your lips at the offer, you turned around in Taehyung’s grip and wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, tilting your head to the side cockily, “What are you waiting for then?”

It was all a blur on how exactly you got there, but you somehow managed to get hoisted up on the counter of the bathroom, legs wrapping tightly around Taehyung’s small waist as he gripped the bottom of your ass. Taehyung’s lips tasted faintly of alcohol as they were molded onto yours, his tongue occasionally coming out to play as he teased at your bottom lip. Your hands were too busy working with Taehyung’s belt of his pants to notice that he hand managed to slip your panties down your legs with record speed, eventually pocketing the drenched material in the back pocket of his jeans.

With a bare pussy, you leaned forward and began to grind your throbbing clit against the rough fabric of his jeans, easily finding a rhythm you enjoyed thanks to the sizable length protruding from his jeans. As you ground against his clothed cock, you could hear Taehyung moaning from the sensation of your wetness coating the front of his jeans and how you rubbed so diligently against his cock. But it was enough foreplay for Taehyung as he was on a mission to have you screaming his name for everyone to hear, even over the loud music playing.

Taehyung worked quickly to pull you off of the counter and bend you over the sink, slipping his jeans down just enough to have his cock spring free without having to take off his jeans completely. “I want you to look at yourself while I fuck you, you got that baby girl?” Taehyung asked as he spit on his hand and gripped his cock tightly in his hand, rubbing himself to his full length and making sure to smear the stubborn bead of precum that refused to slide down his length. You nodded at his request as you arched your back for him to give him the best angle, careful to comply with his wishes as you watched his every movement from the reflection of the mirror.

The minute Taehyung’s cock entered your sopping wet pussy, he had you moaning out from the feeling of his cock sliding effortlessly against your walls. Your hands gripped the edge of the counter as you closed your eyes tightly, trying to get used to the girth Taehyung carried between his legs. As if on cue, Taehyung’s hand stroked your hair lightly to comfort you, him leaning forward to whisper reassuring words in your ear, “It’s okay, Y/N. You’re doing great, just let me know when you’re ready and I’ll start moving okay?” You could only nod at his words as you willed yourself to relax in order to take him properly, opening your eyes quickly to make eye contact with him through the reflection of the mirror, signalling he could move now.

Good thing you got used to his length when you did because Taehyung was not gentle at all when it came to fucking you. Taehyung’s strokes were slow but very deep as he pounded into you, grabbing you by the hair and yanking you back to make sure you were watching the way he fucked you. He wanted you to watch how deep he would go inside of you and how your face would twist into shapes of sheer pleasure, making you watch the way your mouth hung open and cursed to the ceiling above the longer you went.

“Look at you taking my cock! You look s-so fucking beautiful,” Taehyung groaned out as his free hand dug into the flesh of your skin, only leaving to deliver a hellish smack to your ass. Any time his hand would land on your ass, you found yourself becoming a moaning mess at the addition of the sensation mixed with the feeling of Taehyung’s cock pushing against your G-spot.

You didn’t have to imagine how pathetic you looked while taking his cock because Taehyung made sure you watched every minute of him burying his cock in your soaking wet pussy, Taehyung occasionally looking down and admiring the way his cock slid all the way in and came out with a thick sheen coating his length. The sight of your arousal coating his entire length had his hips beginning to stir against you, indicating he was close. However, Taehyung was one of those lovers who refused to cum until his partner did, forcing to use alternative measures.

Taehyung resulted to taking his hand that wasn’t buried in the strands of your hair and pressing it firmly to your swollen clit that seemed to be neglected. The feeling of the pad of his finger pressing harshly against your clit had you reeling, arching your back even more for Taehyung as you let your release take over, cumming hard around his cock with a loud cry of his name and the clenching of your walls around his thick cock.

“Fu-Fuck don’t do that! I-I’m cumming, Y/N! Y/N!” Taehyung bellowed as he gripped both of your hips in each hand, his nails sinking down into your flesh and leaving small crescents in their wake. With another shout of your name, Taehyung released his thick ropes of cum deep inside of you, filling you up to the brim and giving you a couple more thrusts to ensure he completely busted inside of you.

No matter how long you two wanted to stay in that position, your friends were probably worried about you, so you had to force Taehyung to slip out of you. Taehyung groaned as he pulled out, reaching over to grab some paper towels but stopped when he saw his cum dripping slowly down your thigh. The sight of it was pretty hot as he ran his finger up your inner thigh, careful not to touch your sex since you were still pretty sensitive.

“Here,” Taehyung said as his cum covered the tip of his finger, grabbing your shoulder with the opposite one and flipping you around to face him, pressing the finger to your mouth. “Suck it.” You smirked up at him as you took his finger in your mouth, allowing your tongue to roll over the salty liquid and savoring every bit of him as it rolled down your throat. In comparison to the hellish tequila shot you had earlier, you preferred Taehyung’s cum any day. But to be fair, that tequila shot is what got you into this situation in the first place, and it was so worth it.

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