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rallamajoop · 13 days ago

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So why are there so many gay vampires?

From the time of Carmilla all the way up to the works of Anne Rice (a universe that seems to get only less subtle as the years go on), gay vampires have been a thing basically as long as anyone was writing about vampires. Lesbian vampires have been a genre all their own for decades. Bram Stoker, author of the most famous vampire novel ever written, was gay himself. So why vampires specifically?

I’ve seen people attempt to answer this one before, and there are all sorts of contributing factors I could point to here, from the genres’ beginnings with Lord Byron (infamous bisexual disaster fuckboy), to modern discourse about why queer folks so often find themselves identifying with the monsters and outcasts of fiction. Few other monsters besides vampires can so easily pass for ‘normal’, or are nearly so well known for their snappy dress sense and ‘unnatural cravings’ for human flesh. And that’s without even getting into all those skeezy outdated stereotypes casting queer people as predators, or the idea that even one ‘gay experience’ could somehow ‘convert’ you into being one yourself.

But to my mind, there’s just one really important thing that makes vampires so gay, and it’s the same thing that makes them sexy in the first place: plausible deniability.

You see, a vampire’s bite is simultaneously a) ridiculously sexual, and b) not even a little bit sexual at all.

You don’t have to look far for vampire canons where there’s nothing sexy about being bitten by a vampire. Bloody, violent, painful, sure ‒or just clinically miserable, human bodies torn open or hung up to drain like a human blood bag. What’s sexy about getting bitten by a mosquito, or a fecking leech? The diet of the actual vampire bat requires it to process so much water that it apparently spends mealtimes busily pissing out the difference, and the anti-coagulants in its saliva leave the wound bleeding messily long after it’s gone. The basic act of feeding is no more inherently sexual for a vampire than it is for a zombie.

Vampires are even a surprisingly acceptable monster to market to children. There’s a vampire muppet, a cartoon about a vampire duck, and a whole series of books about a vampire rabbit. You can put a vampire on the side of a cereal box without undue outrage. Vampires do not have to be R-rated for sex or violence.

So of course vampires will go after victims of the same sex. Do you stop to inquire whether the cow you’re eating was male or female? It’s all just predator and prey!

Until it’s everything but.

Do not let the ‘vampires aren’t supposed to be sexy!’-purists fool you. The tradition of sexy vampires goes all the way back to the oldest folklore, where the first victim of a newly-risen vampire was often their still-living spouse. Vampires were even occasionally known to get women pregnant (a convenient excuse for any widow who might turn up pregnant slightly too many months after their husband's death). The ‘original’ Nosferatu sounds more like an incubus than the naked mole-rat creature they made that movie about. The demon lover aspect of the vampire has been there all along.

And it’s not hard to imagine why. If someone is biting and sucking on your neck, then either they’re a vampire, or they’re well on the way to second base (other folklore has its vampires feed directly from their victim’s heart, which is scarcely less suggestive). The implications of an exchange of bodily fluids were never subtle, even in Stoker’s day (I'm looking at you, Lucy-with-the-three-husbands), and the vampire as a sexual predator was a popular literary device well before Stoker's time. Beautiful vampire women would seduce men to their demise, and the males of the species might visit the bedroom of some innocent maiden time and again. The Victorian obsession with mesmerism, meanwhile, provided the perfect explanation for how victims might be hypnotised into eager compliance, and perhaps not even remember being fed upon at all. Vampires have been the ultimate guilt-free sexual fantasy since way back in the day, compatible with all your awkward Victorian mores! (Not quite ready to admit they're sexual fantasies? No problem: he's just here to, y'know, suck on your neck a bit. No subtext here!)

The whole act of biting is so suggestive that in the early years of vampire cinema, it wasn’t shown at all, not even between opposite-sex participants. The camera of 1922’s Nosferatu maintains a demure distance during the climactic scene where the heroine is finally bitten and slowly drained of blood, and Universal’s Dracula conveniently fades to black or cuts away whenever it’s about to take place. But even if the biting has to take place off screen, who’s to say a vampire isn’t going to pick victims of both sexes?

The stately tradition of the lesbian vampire has cinematic examples going all the way back to 1936, with Universal’s Dracula’s Daughter. Though the titular vampire has a nominal male love interest – a psychologist who naively advises her to confront her temptations without fear – the result of his advice is a famous sequence where she picks up a young woman under the premise of wanting an artist's model, and convinces her to remove her top. No actual biting or nudity is shown (it was only 1936), but her fate is left in little doubt.

By the era of 70’s sexploitation, all such subtlety had been abandoned. If we’re all good with naked boobs, who’s going to be offended by a little biting?

In fact, when it comes to men rather than women, a vampire bite was, for many years, far too sexy to be shown, or even alluded to. Nosferatu clearly feeds on that film’s Jonathan-expy, but our only evidence is the bitemarks on his neck in the morning, and the final sacrifice to defeat the evil monster must naturally be female. Universal’s Dracula had to ignore explicit studio mandate that only the brides should be allowed to feed on their own Jonathan-equivalent, as to even imply that Dracula himself had fed upon a man was obviously far too homoerotic to contemplate (never mind that it’s Dracula who must be established as the threat in this opening sequence, or that it’s Dracula his victim will spend the rest of the film obsessed with).

But in that unspeakable land of male-on-male homoeroticism, you might be surprised how much homo we can squeeze in even without resorting to fangs-in-necks. The Lost Boys is surely one of the most homoerotic vampire films ever made, but there, the one big blood-drinking scene is rendered in a bloody massacre of slasher-movie violence. And though Anne Rice certainly describes the scene where Lestat drains Louis of blood in lurid detail (and even has them spend their first sunrise together sharing a coffin), Louis is already thoroughly seduced before he ever reaches this point.

You see, the lore of the pop-cultural vampire conveniently comes with a second and equally-compelling target for plausible deniability: the act of making a new vampire.

Obviously, to work, this has to be deliberate. A world where anyone bitten by a vampire becomes one hasn’t much to offer us, and the relationship between maker and fledgling can just as easily be framed as parental, as recruitment into a cult, or purely transactional. But whichever way you twist it, the implications of choosing another to share in your own eternal youth and immortality… like, I don’t have to spell this one out for you, do I? Did I mention how that thing where a vampire’s traditional first victim tended to be their own mortal widow goes all the way back?

But if we’re not ready to be completely obvious with our mainstream audience, some alternative explanation can always be provided for cover. Lestat doesn’t really want Louis, he just wants Louis’ money! (He also really wants Louis.) The Lost Boys just want Michael to join their gang! (Their very, very pretty gang, who swan around in mesh shirts, tank tops and assless chaps.)

The two sides of the vampire-deniability coin aren’t mutually exclusive, either. Carmilla drinks her new paramour’s blood, but also gazes into her eyes while promising her you will be mine. Drinking blood is a key part of making a new vampire in so many vampire stories, after all.

Carmilla isn’t even the only gay vampire story of the Victorian era. I recently posted about two other fascinating examples, both featuring male/male pairings: one being pretty much just a gender-flipped version of Carmilla, and the other a tragic love story filled with significant "vampire = gay lover" metaphors (why oh why must the townsfolk keep us apart, when we’ll only ever be happy once we’re united once more?) This stuff goes surprisingly far back.

In fact, you can find queer subtext in vampire fiction that predates even Byron and Polidori. 1819's The Vampyre was the first published vampire story, yes, but the first known work of vampire-fiction in the English language is a poem published by John Stagg in 1810, also called The Vampyre (look, the genre didn’t exist yet, you didn’t have to be creative with your titles).

In brief, Stagg’s poem recounts a conversation between a wife (Gertrude) and her dying husband (Herman), whose dear friend Sigismund, lately deceased and deeply mourned, has returned as a vampire. Night after night, he crawls into Herman’s room to drain his blood. Herman’s fate is already sealed, but unless Gertrude takes action, it will surely be she that Herman will take as his own first victim when he rises from the grave.

There may be nothing intentional about the queer subtext of this tale. A vampire’s victims often include friends he knew in life, as Stagg himself cites in his introduction. But if Herman’s first victim will be his wife, what are we to read about the fact Sigismund’s first victim is Herman? Especially given how long he’s kept secret from poor Gertrude that his dear ‘friend’ has been climbing into his bedroom each night, lying beside him in bed and sucking and draining "the fountain of my heart!" while Herman moans and tosses (in pain, obviously!), always leaving him "exhausted, spent." Ultimately, Gertrude is saved only when both Herman and Sigismund are staked through the heart, and we close on the image of them slumbering together in the tomb.

It is, however you turn it, pretty gay.

I reiterate: this is the very first known work of vampire fiction written in the English language. The second was the one that was kind-of-written-by, kind-of-stolen-from, and unambiguously based on bisexual-disaster-fuckboy Lord Byron. And the two most influential works of vampire fiction of the next hundred years would be Carmilla, the very lesbian vampire story written by a… presumably straight man? And Dracula, the not-completely-convincingly-hetero story written by #1 Walt Whitman fanboy Bram Stoker. Vampires have always been very equal-opportunity kind of monsters.

There are, of course, plenty of influential heterosexual vampire tales to fill out the roster too. Varney the Vampire, a penny dreadful from the 1840s, was so successful it ran for over 200 chapters. The 1960s had their own wildly successful Varney-equivalent in the soap opera Dark Shadows. Love it or hate it, we really can't ignore Twilight either. My own introduction to the genre was Christopher Pike’s The Last Vampire series, which came out alongside the original Vampire Diaries novels. So there's plenty of material around to keep the straights entertained – and honestly, that’s only as it should be, because the very thing that makes vampires so queer-friendly is that the sex of their victims doesn’t matter. And it’s so easy to make vampires sexy (let alone a full vampire-proposal!) that even the Victorians could do it.

Now, if your reaction to all this theorising is to tell me "but the LGBTQ’s shouldn’t have to hide behind plausible deniability!" I can only counter, "well sure, but why should the straights have all the fun?" Because playing with all the ambiguity of "is this monster really just after my blood or is this going somewhere?" can be all sorts of fun, regardless of the genders involved. And as long as they’re up for exchanging bodily fluids with persons-and-or-victims of either gender equally, why not have some fun with it?

So, okay, maybe the real title of this post should have been "why are there so many pansexual vampires?" But the answer doesn’t change. Vampires have been the bisexual disaster fuckmonsters for as long as anyone’s been writing about vampires, and have been a metaphor allowing people publish barely-coded gay attraction since 1872. And much like the queer community, they’ve only become more complex, more sympathetic, and all the more popular as romantic paramours as the years have gone by.

#gay vampire stuff #Interview with the Vampire #Dracula #What We Do In The Shadows #The Lost Boys #Bram Stoker #Anne Rice #Carmilla #lesbian vampires

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heeseungwifey · 1 year ago

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Does Layla need a mom?

pairing: jake x y/n

warning: contains smut!

It’s a chilly night so I’ve decided to go for some thighs with my mini skirt. I wish I could just ignore the cold for my Tinder date tonight but I should put my health first. I’m meeting a new guy called Jake, by his profile I know he’s 21, has gorgeous lips and a dog. That’s all I’m looking for in a man these days, someone I can have fun with.

I order an Uber and go down the stairs, already kinda late for the reservation at the fancy Italian restaurant where we’re having our date. He made the reservation a week ago, he swears it’s the best food I’ll try in town. I get in the Uber and send him a message.

“Sorry, I'll be a few minutes late, traffic!” I sent it as the Uber driver was waiting on a red light.

“No worries, I’m already here. I hope you do show up and not leave me stranded haha” Jake sends a smiley emoji and I get he’s nervous about this date too. We’ve been talking for a few weeks, friendly but also quite flirty, some texts getting borderline sexting. I’ve been trying not to overthink about how this night could end, but the thought of getting into this man’s bed has kept me zoning out since he asked me out.

“Here it is lady, have a good night!” I get out of the car and thank the Uber driver, getting into the restaurant as fast as I can so I don’t ruin my hair in the rain. when I walk in, I scan the room to look for Jake, quickly spotting him at the end of the restaurant. He’s wearing a leather jacket, his hair pushed back and a neck chain, looking so good I almost got embarrassed to approach him. It would have been too late to escape since he already saw me, getting up and shaking his hand in the air so I could see him.

“Hello! Wow you look gorgeous y/n” Jake kisses me on the cheek and I get to smell his perfume, manly and sexy. I sit down and take a sweet time to appreciate how he looks, admire his tan skin, his big nose, his beautiful smile and his hands, wishing that those would be touching me in a couple of hours. He’s doing the same as me, scanning me from head to toe with a sultry stare.

“You look really good too Jake, I’m kind of surprised you’re just not wearing basketball shorts or a striped shirt” I joke since in all his pictures on Instagram he’s wearing one of these two clothing pieces, even both of the same time sometimes. He looks ridiculously gorgeous tonight.

“Well I have to show off for tonight, need to make a good impression”

“Sure you are”

Dinner was fantastic, everything was delicious and we talked all the time we were sitting there as if we had known each other since forever. Jake had come with his car so he offered to take me home. I felt uncomfortable asking to go to his house even though I really wanted to, so I made an excuse to be with him for a little bit more.

“I know a cool bar right around here, would you like to go? Let’s not end the date just yet” I looked up on Google Maps a bar next to his house just to hang out there for a bit, have a drink and see where the night took us. The next thing I know is that each of us has drunk at least 3 cocktails and it’s almost 2 a.m.

“My house is quite close to this bar, if you want to crash, I know I said I would take you home but I don’t think I can drive right now, a uber right now is gonna be impossible to find” Jake has his arm around my shoulders, his hair messy and he had to take his jacket off because of how hot he was. His house is a 15-minute walk away, which helps us get refreshed as we get to his door.

“Here we are, welcome to my house!” Jake opens the door and a modern and minimalist decor fills my sight. it’s obvious it’s a single man’s house by the posters and figurines he has but it’s done with good taste, giving a personal touch.

“Omg is this Layla? you’re so pretty and fluffy!” Jake’s dog approaches me right as I walk in, excitedly shaking her tail and giving little jumps. He has previously talked about her dog at the restaurant, showing me pictures of her as a puppy and all.

“She seems to like you, I don’t often see her this excited” Jake closes the door and takes his jacket off, hanging it on the entrance coat rack. He gets behind me and grabs my bag and my coat, hanging it as well.

“It’s kinda crazy that I’m staying at your house, I don’t know what you’re gonna think of me” I say as a joke but deep down I do want to give him a good impression and as much as I would love to rip his clothes off right now,

“It's kind of stupid If I thought anything bad about you y/n. I hope you know I’m very excited that you’re here right now. Just knowing we get to be a few more minutes together is already giving me a rush”

I look at him and he’s standing there, looking so handsome in this light, the air feeling heavy. I move to the sofa, sitting there first as he follows me around inside his own house. He turns on the TV and we’re sitting there like dummies, watching whatever is on. I am nervous, the expectation growing more and more each second.

“what the hell are we doing?” Jake says as he’s getting closer to me, facing me as I’m resting my back on the couch. When he’s just inches away from my lips, Layla jumps on the sofa, right in between us.

“Layla! you scared me, fuck” Jake moves to the other side of the sofa, being attacked by Layla’s kisses. I laugh from the other side, the view so endearing I almost forgot he’s just a Tinder date and this will end soon.

“Do you want me to lend you some clothes to sleep in? A T-shirt and some shorts perhaps?” Jake is standing right in front of me, waiting for my answer, looking for an excuse to get out of Layla’s insistence.

“yes, thank you! where’s the bathroom by the way? I need to take my make-up off” I get up fast as he walks to his bedroom to pick up the clothes.

“It’s here, hold on… let me give you the clothes so you can change. I also have make-up remover in the cabinet” Jake rumbles around his closet and comes back with a white t-shirt with a logo on it and some Nike shorts, handing them to me.

When I finished changing and getting my make-up off I glanced at myself in the mirror. I look so bare in this look, just how I would look at the solitude of my own house. It’s kinda crazy that this is how I choose to show myself in front of my date, who I have known for just a few hours. I guess Jake has something that just makes me blindly trust him.

As I’m coming out of the bathroom I hear the TV, the volume turned down so it’s low. When I walk into the living room, Jake is lying on the couch with a tight t-shirt and grey sweatpants. Layla lies right next to him, looking adorable with her fluffy fur. He looks a bit sleepy but as I walk into his sight, he opens his eyes and gets up.

“Do you want to watch a movie or something? I don’t sleep too much so I always stay up late watching TV. Right now there’s this 50’s romantic movie, I don’t know if you would like it” Jake looks at me as I’m standing there, his eyes trying not to look at my nipples, visible through the t-shirt he gave me. I’m also quite careful not to get caught looking at his bulge, way too noticeable in those sweats.

“I don’t care really, it’s just background noise to me” I say as I’m sitting next to him, he grabs my hands and pulls me in between his legs. His big hands hold mine as he looks at me in the eyes, the TV light illuminating his face in a beautiful blue. He looks mesmerizing, so much so that I can’t hold myself any longer and I kiss him. His sweet, plump lips capture mine with the same intensity as mine, gasping for air every time we separate.

Jake grabs the back of my thighs and sits me on his lap, his hands groping my ass and massaging it. I feel an overwhelming heat on my cheeks, all the pent-up neediness flowing out from us. He wanted this as much as I did. It’s surreal a man like this would want me so bad.

“Baby, let’s go to the bedroom” Jake says in between kisses as he picks me up from his lap and takes me to his bedroom. I’m not thinking about anything else right now but his lips, his hands and the burning pain I’m feeling in my groin, growing worse each second I feel no relief.

When we get to the bedroom, Jake throws me onto the bed, closing the door behind him. The bedroom is nicely decorated, filled with blue and wood. Seeing the details of how he chooses to decorate his house gives me more knowledge about him, filling in the gaps of the missing info I have about him. As I’m laying there, he moves swiftly to the side of the bed, where he turns on a bedside lamp. Lights on tonight I guess.

“Tell me what you like baby, I’m all ears” Jake is standing right at the feet of the bed, in front of me lying in his bed. Many dirty thoughts go through my head, and I could ask for many favours. I don’t have words to describe how bothered I am by his presence, getting hornier with every second he spends waiting for me to voice my desires.

“take your t-shirt off, slowly. And then take mine” I ask, not much but just enough for now. Jake doesn’t say a word, he just follows. Grabs the hem of his t-shirt and peels it off, showing his defined abs and honey skin. His hair is messy now and his eyes are fixed on the t-shirt he lent me, planning on taking it off as soon as possible. From where he stands he grabs my ankles and pulls me to the edge of the bed, my feet touching the floor and sitting there like a doll. His hands are placed on my waist under the t-shirt, caressing my body as he pushes it up, arms up and for a second I get struck when I get to see his face again, both of us semi-naked and getting more and more desperate for what’s about to happen.

“Tell me, princess, what else do you want me to do?” Jake is almost touching my lips with his, the kiss from before hitting my mind and leaving me desperate for another one. I pull him by his neck onto my lips, clashing hard as we lay on the bed, him on top of me. As we are kissing, his hand snakes up to the pants that I’m wearing, pulling them slowly, leaving me completely naked. I waste no time and do the same to him, unsuccessfully though. He stops me and breaks the kiss, taking them off himself. My sight is indescribable, his naked body bathed by the warm light of the lamp and desire burning in his eyes.

My hands travel from his shoulders to his hip bone, feeling the softness of his skin and his body heat. I touch his member, now hard and red, and Jake hisses at the feeling. I give it slow strokes, enjoying how his eyebrows stitch up and his mouth can only moan and whimper just cause of my touch. As I start going faster, he falls on his back on the bed, giving me full access to now suck him off. I get on top of him and slowly start with my tongue, tiny licks to the top and getting my saliva all around it. When it’s covered I put it all in my mouth, bottom it thanks to Jake pushing my head all the way down. He’s grabbing the back of my head, trying to regain some control over the situation but he’s very obviously gone. When he starts whining and whimpering I know he’s right there, going faster. He tries to stop me but fails miserably, cumming all in my mouth and face.

“wow, you’re going strong y/n, I don’t know if I can keep up with you” he lays there breathing heavily as I’m cleaning my face, his sight lost on the ceiling. “Well the ball’s on your court now, how are you gonna pay me for the best blowjob you’ve received in your entire life?” I say cockily as I get close to his face. His eyes look at me, foggy and lost in lust and suddenly I see a spark in them, knowing instantly he has gotten an idea on how he’s gonna pay me.

“Sit on my face, you’ve won it” Jake grabs my leg and gets it on the other side of his body, now I’m straddling his ribcage. His hands push me by my hips closer to his head, my hands grabbing the headboard so I don’t fall. I can feel Jake’s warm breath on my pussy, his plump lips just inches away from my heat. I feel his wet tongue first, circling around my clit and giving kitten licks as I’m desperately trying to not sit down on his head and choke him. When he starts using his tongue, lapping my folds with hunger I can’t control my sounds any longer and start moaning like I’m possessed. His lips feeling so good and skillfully mixing his mouth with two fingers I come fast on his face, losing all my strength and falling back onto the bed with his head still between my legs. A few minutes pass and I feel Jake getting up and moving my body by my ankles, placing me in the middle of the bed.

“Did that feel good baby? I’ve never seen anyone react like that… it was so hot I also came with you, twice tonight already. And I haven’t even been inside you yet” Jake’s hair looks messy and sexy, especially knowing it’s because of our recent activities. His lips are even plumper if possible and a layer of sweat covers his chest and abs. I sit up and touch his body instinctively, caressing his hip bone and looking at him in the eyes.

“Bend over baby” his strong arms flip me over, getting me on all fours. His eyes went straight to my drenched and pulsating pussy, placing himself right on my entrance. “Mhmm, it felt so good Jake…fuck I can’t take it any longer, please… just fuck me already”

He moves slowly, for a second unsure if he should be doing this, but when he stretches me so good that I moan loudly, his movements go crazy, railing me like an animal, his hair all stuck to his forehead and his eyes shut, trying to keep up with the pace. He bites his fist but is to no avail as moans just escape from his mouth, his movements going erratic and losing focus. I feel the bed move like it’s gonna break, my moans have become screams at this point and I’m lost in the feeling, my hair all over my face and sweat sticking the sheets onto my body.

“Jake, Jake, I’m going to… I can’t hold it anymore… I’m gonna…” can’t even say a whole sentence, the feeling not letting me think properly as all I feel like the heat in my tummy is gonna explode at any second.

“Do it, c’mon baby, I want to see you come on my dick, let it go…” Jake takes one of his hands to my clit, massaging it and making me come in seconds. I lose sight for a second, everything is blurry as I hear Jake moan loudly, coming inside me and falling on top of me. His head on my chest, I hug his head as we both recover our breaths, the moment feeling so intimate I can’t stop myself from giving him a kiss on the forehead.

I’m pretty sure we fell asleep like that for like fifteen minutes, hugging each other as all we had was each other’s body heat to keep warm. I wake up by the sound of scratching on the bedroom door, obviously being Leyla waiting for his owner to give her food. Jake gets up from top of me and walks to the door, closing it behind him as soon as Leyla starts jumping excitedly. I’m left there quite sad, missing how close we were just a few seconds ago.

“Hey, sorry, I forgot to put water in Leyla’s bowl before and she was quite thirsty. But hey, I just turned the water on, do you want to take a bath? It’s probably hot by now” Jake is sitting on the border of the bed, caressing my tummy as I’m still too tired to get up. I look at him and feel a sense of dreadness, I don’t wanna lose whatever we have right now between each other. Leaving his house today could mean this is over, that we’re just a one-night stand for each other and that’s it.

I take his hand and he lifts me up from the bed, lending me a bathrobe so I don’t get cold on the way to the bathroom. when we get there, there’s a few candles lighten up and the whole room smells like lavender, calming and cozy.

“Get in the bathtub, I’ll prepare some towels for when we get out” I step inside the bathtub, the warm water soothing my body from the intense workout. Jake gets into the bathtub and we’re sitting there looking at each other, just like we were at the restaurant earlier. I almost feel like crying, so I close my eyes and push my head back to rest on the wall.

“Are you good? you look super tired” Jake asks, but I don’t feel like answering right now or my voice will break. So he sits there, reaching for my hand and worried I’m actually in pain. But the pain it’s not physical, and I wish he had just let me go to my house by taxi today. I feel like shit right now, enjoying the last minutes of the most beautiful date I’ve ever been on.

“Did I do something wrong? Are you hurt anywhere?” His tone was serious and worried, his eyes fixated on my face. I open my eyes and it’s obvious that I’m on the verge of tears, my eyes watery and red.

“It’s okay, I’m just a bit tired, today has been a long day for me”

“I don’t believe you, I don’t think that’s what’s happening. You looked so happy a few minutes ago coming on my dick, and now you’re tired? Do you think I’m gonna believe that? Please tell me what’s going on”

Jake sounds mad at me, scared that now everything’s done I’m acting so cold towards him. I can’t tell him the truth, it is so embarrassing and delusional that I might scare him off.

“It’s okay Jake, I just need to go home and sleep a little bit. I had fun don’t be mistaken, but I think is time I go back to my bed and keep on going with my life” I come off as a bitch, looking for a way out of this conversation that was gonna end by me ridiculizing myself in front of the hottest man I know. If I give him the idea that I’m always up for something casual I might get to see him again.

“I don’t know what the fuck has happened for you to say this, but if you want to sleep here I have no issue with it if that’s what you’re worried about. I thought we had a great time tonight, maybe I’ve been a bit rough or you didn’t feel comfortable with me… I don’t know if you’re under the impression that I have used you to have sex but you couldn’t be more mistaken”

There’s an uncomfortable silence, the only sounds being the distant sound of the TV in the living room and Leyla walking around the house outside the bathroom door. I look at him and his eyes are lost, a hundred thoughts going through his head, trying to find where it went wrong tonight.

“It’s not that I didn’t like it, I actually hadn’t had this much fun in a long time. I guess I’m a bit sensitive since it was a bit too… intimate. Like, this is just a hookup, I shouldn’t be feeling this way about what we have done but… I wish It had meant more for the both of us”

“Listen y/n, it’s been a long time since I’ve gone on a date. I was very excited to go with you tonight since I thought we had great chemistry on our back-and-forth texts. I do feel different about you than I have felt about any other woman I have talked to on that damn app…”

I look at him and his arms are resting on each side of the bathtub, his skin glistening and a perfect view of his chest. It makes me crave for a hug in the comfort of his embrace.

“I like you more than I thought I would so early into knowing each other. I have enjoyed this night with you so much that’s gonna screw me up forever, being honest” I confess, my head turned to the wall so I don’t see his reaction to such a statement.

I don’t have to look at him, his arms grabbing mine and getting me closer to him. His lips on mine, so fierce and hungry, I’ve lost control of the situation and now I’m just being french kissed as water splashes everywhere, my legs on each side of his lap.

“Me too… I felt like a dumbass, being so intense… I don’t wanna let you go, ever” his kisses move to my neck and chest, and my hands can’t do much but hold his hair on my fist as I try not to moan too loudly at 4 a.m.

The next morning I lay there, on his bed. The sheets are everywhere, victims of our last night endeavours. A subtle smell of coffee and toasted bread comes into the bedroom, getting me up instantly and wandering to the kitchen.

There he is, early morning with wet hair from the shower and a clean black t-shirt and grey sweatpants. Layla runs around the kitchen, excited about her breakfast just as I am. When I walk into his vision, Jake looks at me with the brightest smile and comes to hug me, kissing my head and caressing my back.

“Good morning baby, did you rest well?” his warmth irradiating through his t-shirt and feeling incredibly comforting.

“Yeah I did, I haven’t slept this well in a long time” I snuggle on his chest, his arms reaching for the frypan and moving it aside, so the scrambled eggs don’t burn.

When we’re done with the breakfast, a long silence between us arises. It’s comfortable but at the same time, it scares me that it'll make us talk about our feelings. Thankfully Layla jumps on my lap, wanting to play with me. If this ends I’m also gonna miss her and I just met her.

“Damn, Layla has never acted like this with anyone before, it’s crazy… She likes you a lot. It's just like she has accepted you’re her mom or something haha” Jake says, fascinated by how his dog is acting towards a total stranger to her, like she has known me since forever.

“So… does Layla need a mom?”

“Yeah, her dad needs a mom too” Jake looks at me and we start laughing, filling the house with the sound of our laughter, the smell of toast and a happy Layla, who gets to have a mom from that day on.

#enhypen smut #enhypen #jake smut

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ladykailitha · 1 month ago

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The Hellfire Exotic Club Part 5

Hello! I'm really love the response to this story. Thank you everyone who commented or tagged.

In this part we get to meet Ellie their costume designer, and Steve proves why he's there.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4

Steve was doing his warm ups when Chrissy came up to him.

“Hey,” she said. “We finally got our costume designer in at the same time as you. So you need to go to the dressing room and get measured.”

He nodded and went back to the dressing room. It was a long room packed with vanities, costumes, and props. It was where everyone got dressed. Man and woman alike. Eddie’s club was making good money, but it was just easier to just have everyone in the same room. Plus, it wasn’t like everyone hadn’t seen everyone else’s bits. After all, nakedness was part of the job.

The only one who had his own dressing room was Eddie. And that was because it doubled as his office. It had all his costumes, his guitars, but also his desk and filing cabinets. It had a long green, leather sofa two big fluffy armchairs across from his desk chair.

Standing at the end of the of the room in front of the rows and rows of clothing racks where all the costumes were kept was a woman in her early twenties with curly, brown hair and slim figure. Her back was to him so he couldn’t see her face. But he liked her style. It was funky and eclectic and Steve instantly loved it.

“Hey,” he called out gently. “I’m here to measured and hopefully not be found wanting.”

She turned around with a giggle. “And would you be William or Count Adhemar in this situation?”

Steve laughed. “My hope is to always be the hero, especially in my own story. And do I call you Kate or something else?”

“Ellie will do just fine,” she said with a smile. “So you’re the new Envy. You aren’t what I was expecting, if I’m honest.”

“No?” he said as he finished walking the rest of the way to her. “I’m not sure what you were told about me, so...”

Again Ellie giggled. “Well judging from the way Eddie and Chrissy talk about you I was expecting someone taller at the very least. You are conventionally attractive, but I guess I was thinking more Chris Hemsworth then Chris Pine, if I’m honest.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment then,” he said. “Personally I prefer Pine over all the other Chrises. He’s got a ‘fuck you I do what I want’ style I like.”

“Me too,” she said with a soft knowing smile. “So let’s get those measurements and then afterwards we can talk about what you want out of your costumes. I understand you and Chrissy are going to be Hansel and Gretel for the Fairy Tale Night, is that right?”

Steve nodded. “I think that Eddie just wants to see me in lederhosen.” He paused for a second. “My best friend, Robin, too, now that I think about it.”

She laughed out loud for the first time and Steve decided she should laugh more. It was cute. “Well, aren’t they going to be disappointed. It’s meant to be sexy, not ridiculous.”

He smiled back at her. Yeah, they were going to along just fine. Ellie went through measuring him, quickly and efficiently. Steve was impressed by her professionalism and she was impressed by his ability to take direction and to hold still when told.

Once they were done Ellie sat him down and she pulled out a sketch book. She showed him the designs for the Hansel outfit. It had a lot of layers so that as they went through the forest more clothes would come off. Lamia would be the witch and Eddie’s Lucifer would rescue them. It was all very hot and Steve couldn’t wait to preform it.

“I love it,” he told Ellie. “Can we make the costumes brown on the outside and get lighter and lighter until the bottom layer is white?”

Ellie tapped her pencil to her lips. “What if we started off with black and worked our way through grey to white?”

Steve resisted the urge to sigh. It was Eddie wish to be everything black or red for their costumes and it looked the costume designer felt the same. “How about red?”

Ellie’s eyes lit up. “That could work!” And she pulled out her colored pencils and got to work coloring the different layers. Once she was done, she looked up at him and he grinned back.

“Perfect,” he said. “Now let me tell you what I’m going to need from my costume and you can help me figure out what it should look like.”

She nodded and listened to his wants and needs, jotting down notes and sketching out ideas as he talked.

“I might not take it all off every time,” Steve admitted, scratching his cheek nervously. “But I want the option there if at all possible.”

Ellie did a couple more sketches and showed them to him. He took the sketch book from her as he examined the different designs. He pointed to the one on the left. “Add some of the flare from the second one and I think you’ve got it.”

She added the flourishes from the one costume to the other and then showed Steve. He nodded.

“All right,” she said standing up, “I’ll be by in a couple of weeks with your costume for a fitting and see if there’s any tweaks to finalize. I’ve also taken your current costume and will have it sent over on Sunday so that you are able to dance easier.”

He let out a sigh of relief. “That would be fantastic. I’ll be glad to be able to do my job without sacrificing a gallon of blood every night.”

Steve walked her out and said goodbye. Then he got back to warm ups and practice. He was about done with his first solo routine when one of the dancers came up to him.

“Why are you so special that Ellie came to you?” the young man bit out. “Everyone else had to go to her shop to get measured.”

Steve looked up at him with a frown. “You’re Leviathan, right?” The guy nodded. “I’m busy during the day and on my nights off. And when I was free, she was busy. She offered to come to me during practice, man, I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”

“Why you’re getting such preferential treatment?” Levi huffed. “Boss wouldn’t let us backup dancers even try out for Envy even though we should have been given the chance first. We’ve been here longer and deserve a crack at making real money. But no... you come in here with your stupid little heaven song and your stupid little angel dances and now you’re getting Ellie to come to you? It’s bullshit!”

Steve just put his hands up in the air. “You’re acting like I’m some evil mastermind designed to fuck up your life, but the truth is it sounds life your beef is with Eddie not me. I’m not the one who set up tryouts. I’m not the one that called Ellie to come get my measurements. I’m not the one that suggested the angel theme, all I did was pick a song that would get me noticed. Eddie is the one who did all those things. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to warm up.”

Levi snarled and turned on his heel, stomping away. Or as much stomping as one could when you’d spent your life learning to land as softly as possible.

Steve rolled his shoulders. He was used to people blaming him because he was rich and popular and good looking and could fucking dance. They couldn’t get over the fact that he had these natural talents; things he was born with that he didn’t chose. But it was always his fault anyway.

Chrissy came back from wherever she had gone during his session with Ellie, with a big smile. “You ready to back into this?” she asked cheerfully.

“Ready when you are!”

To say Eddie was pissed would be an understatement. He had just gotten off the phone with some Bible thumping street preacher demanding that they shutter their doors and repent to come to God.

When Eddie told him that he didn’t believe in God and even if he had, he’d rather go to Hell, the preacher started screaming obscenities about how he was going to expose the club for what it was, a den of iniquity and was going to get it closed down.

Then Stella came in and was up his ass about the angel dances again. He told her that when she brought in as much money as Steve and Chrissy did during those dances then he would listen to her.

“Mark my words, Eddie,” Stella hissed. “He’s going to be the ruin of the club and when it all comes crashing down, I’m going to still be here so I can tell you to your face, ‘I told you so’.”

Then she stormed out. Eddie followed her because he honestly thought she would start going on a rampage in the dressing room, tearing shit up.

Which meant he got a front row seat to Levi trying bully Steve. Not that it worked, Steve returned better than he got, but it was the fact that one of his people had tried. It wasn’t the first time Eddie heard the rumblings from the backup dancers about not getting a chance to audition for Envy and it probably wouldn’t the last. But he wasn’t going to let someone bully someone he had handpicked.

He walked up to the stage whistled long and loud. Steve was the last to stop and look at him, finishing the turn he was doing. He blushed when he realized everyone was waiting for him.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Don’t worry about it,” Eddie said. “I get wanting to complete a spin instead of abruptly stopping and risking a fall.”

Steve nodded, still feeling the heat of embarrassment on the back of his neck after the sting of Levi’s words still rang in his head.

“I’ve been getting and hearing a lot of complaints about how I run things lately,” Eddie began.

The assembled dancers began to shift uncomfortably. “Especially from the backup dancers about the auditions to replace Envy. You all think you’re better than Stevie here,” he continued. “So put your money where your mouth is. All eight of you will dance Billy’s version of the tease. And you don’t want to, you know where the fucking door is. Don’t let it hit you on the way out.”

There was a gasp and then deadly silence. “If any of you are as good as he is, I’ll concede the point and we’ll discuss the details after. But here’s the thing, my little demons. You aren’t as good as he is. He learned his dance in three days.”

There were some sharp grumbling at that but a single glare from Eddie silenced them again.

“Jeff, Brian, and Gareth will be the judges because clearly you don’t trust me and Chrissy’s judgment. They will score you on hitting all the moves. On style. And finally on how sexy it was. Then after you’ve all danced and I’m proven right, you’ll have two options,” he bit out, holding up two fingers. “Shut up and dance. Or get the fuck out of my club. Because I think you assholes forgot who’s name is on the deed. Not you. Not Wayne. Not anyone but me.”

The rest of the demons glared at the two main culprits: Levi and Danny. Levi sneered and Danny was nonplussed.

“Come on, Leviathan,” Eddie snarled back. “You think you’re such a big shot. Go on, prove it.”

Levi got into position to dance.

Chrissy hurried over to the music and turned on “Devil Inside”. Steve didn’t want to toot his own horn, but he could see why Billy was only as good as the pole he was dancing on. It was loud and outrageous but no technique or style. It was all sex and no substance.

When he was done Eddie called out all the other dancers. Choronzon, Belial, Beelzebub, Astraroth, Stolas, Mephistopheles, and then finally Dagon. Danny was a good dancer, particularly on the pole. But again, there was no style or substance to the tease.

When her dance ended, Steve raised his hand. “Can I try?”

All heads snapped his direction.

“What now?” Cheryl asked. “You dance it every Sunday.”

Steve shook his head. “What you guys just danced is not what I do on Sundays. Chrissy modified it on the fly because I’m not built the way Billy was.”

There was some murmuring but Chrissy confirmed he doesn’t do Billy’s dance. Parts of it, yes. But there was no way Steve could dance it well enough in time.

“But you just watched it,” Stella said. “There is no way you can do replicate that!”

Steve shrugged. “I watched it eight times. It has a lot of beats of what I do, but in a slightly different order. I should get a chance to do it. It’s my reputation on the line, isn’t it?”

No one could refute that so Steve got into position and everyone’s jaw dropped. Including Eddie and Chrissy. Steve started his dance on stool but Billy started front and center. And that’s where he stood.

Scott smirked as the music started. It was Chrissy and him who helped Steve nail it down in three days.

The difference was staggering. Eddie’s jaw remained on the floor for the duration of of the tease. As did almost everyone else’s. Only Stella and Scott were unmoved. Scott because he knew how good Steve was and Stella because she was being forced to eat crow.

The song ended and the room erupted in cheers and whistles. Steve lifted his head and winked.

Jeff threw his notes in the air behind him. “I don’t fucking need these. Steve’s was sexier, smoother, and nearly technically perfect.”

Gareth crossed his arms over his chest. “I agree. All of the backup dancers did the routine. But none of them were Envy.”

“I’m asexual and even I could tell Steve’s was sexier,” Brian said. “And it’s because he connected to his audience. Me, Gare, and Jeff. He played to us not at us.”

Eddie raised his arm to the stage. “Satan everyone!” He jutted his thumb behind him. “Take it or leave it!”

No one moved an inch. “Then shut up and dance!” He turned on his heel and stormed back to his office.

Chrissy clapped her hands. “All righty! Everyone back on the starting line!”

Everyone scrambled to get back into position. Chrissy and Scott shared a smirk as Levi and Danny stood a little straighter.

Point well and truly made.

Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Tag List: CLOSED

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @dreamercec @sadisticaltarts @too-much-tma-stuff @dolphincliffs @chameleonhair

10- @themoonagainstmers @gloomysoup @novelnovella @micheledawn1975

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #dance club au

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plussizefantasia · 6 months ago

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Trust Issues

Bucky x BlackCat!reader

Chapter 2/6 of the BlackCat!reader story that I had a request for!

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: Language, Bucky and Reader being kinda mean to each other.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” The first words Barnes has uttered in nearly two hours. “There's only one fucking bed.” It didn’t occur to you to ask the front desk woman if there would be two beds, after all, you and Bucky were supposed to be playing a couple this weekend and couples didn’t need two beds. “Well buck up, Buckaroo, looks like we're sharing for the weekend."

“I’m not sharing a bed with you, you kick in your sleep and snore like a buzzsaw.”

“You’re a filthy liar Barnes, I do not snore.”

“No comment on the kicking?” He raises an eyebrow at you. You just roll your eyes and push further into the room.

“Well, I’m not sleeping on the ground. So you can either be a chivalrous manbaby and curl up in that tiny-ass armchair or be a grown-ass man and split the bed with me. Your choice.”

Bucky grumbles under his breath, in a language that you don’t speak but hearing it admittedly sends a shiver running down your spine. You don’t really have time to stay and talk him out of his funk. The two of you are only here for the three nights and the last night was the gala so any and all recon needs to be done before then.

Of course, the team of low-ranking agents who just want to do their fucking part to save the world or some bs like that have already put together a file of information for you. You’ve been burned before though and like to take care of yourself more often than not.

So you inwardly thank Tony Stark for the nice digs and head to the bathroom to get changed into your suit.

You want to scope out the event space tonight as well as the governor's office the only problem was that the two buildings were practically on opposite sides of the city and you’ll have to take pretty much the whole night in order to get what you need.

That means despite the fact that you are ridiculously tired from being in the car all day you’ll have to dawn your fur-lined catsuit right away and book it to the State Capital building before the last of the over-caffeinated halfway to burnt-out political interns leave for the night and your usual slip-in-behind-someone-who-isn’t-paying-attention entrance will fall off the table.

You pretend that you don’t see Bucky’s eyes bulge when you walk out of the bathroom in your full get-up, but you feel flattered nevertheless. There’s something to be said about the way donning your suit makes you feel, when you have the mask on and the suit zipped all the way up you feel invincible, powerful, badass, and let’s not kid anyone, sexy as hell.

The way Bucky can’t keep his eyes off you as you move about the room gathering the things you’ll need for your night of recon makes you think that he’s on the same page as you about that last one. But that’s all it is, you remind yourself. You’ve got good assets and when they’re tightly wrapped in a nice little bow they look alright, Barnes doesn’t like you he’s a man… he likes tits and ass. They all do.

“I’m heading downtown, need to scope out entrances and exits and see if there’s anything in the governor's office that could help us bring him down.”

“I’ll come with.” Bucky moves to grab the bulletproof leather jacket that Steve had gotten him for Christmas this past year.

“Thanks but no thanks Barnes, I’m perfectly capable of doing recon on my own. Besides, you’re not exactly what I would call… stealthy.”

“I’m stealthy as fuck kitty.”

“Don’t call me kitty, and whatever you need to tell yourself, old man. I'll be back. Treat yourself to room service or something, I heard brooding makes you hungry.”

“I don’t brood.”

“And I don’t snore. See, we can both lie.”

Your night is uneventful. The only thing catching your eye is how suspiciously squeaky clean the governor's computer is. You don’t find much that can help you in your mission. The ballroom is a bust too although you do manage to come up with several escape routes should things go sideways the night of the gala. You end up rolling back into the hotel room at around three-thirty in the morning. Not expecting Bucky to still be awake you try your best to make as little noise as possible so that you don’t wake him.

It ends up not being necessary as he is already awake, lounging in the armchair nursing a glass of whisky, and staring at the door you've just come through.

“Don’t tell me you waited up for me? That’s so sweet Barnes.”

“I didn’t want to be the one to tell Fury that his favorite pet got in some trouble.”

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, Barnes, I am not Fury’s pet any more than you're Steve’s.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” He scoffs and takes another sip of his drink.

“Well, you’re off the hook I guess I’m back safe and sound so you can finally go about getting some much-needed beauty sleep.”

“You really can’t take anything seriously, can you? I’ve been waiting here for hours because you left without letting me in on your little plan.” Bucky stands up and places his glass on the side table next to him. You have no idea where the hell this anger he has is coming from but you’ll be damned if you let him talk to you like this. “We’re supposed to be doing this mission together and the first moments you’re left to your own devices you run off and risk yourself unnecessarily.” He's getting heated and it's rubbing off on you.

“What the hell is your problem James? I didn’t ask you to wait for me! You’ve been a bit of an ass all day and I’m really fucking tired of it. I’m here to do my fucking job, are you?” Hindsight is a bitch though and you realize after you say the words to him that poking the bear is probably not your best option at the moment, nevertheless, you’re a glutton for punishment so you dig in even more. “I mean first you get all moody in the car because of some shit you brought up in the first place, then you stay up waiting for me like you’re my dad or some shit making sure I get home safe. I know that you don’t like me, I get it and if I’m completely honest I don’t really like you either. No matter what you think or want though, we have a mission to complete and I’ll be damned if I let some metal-armed brute fuck up my perfect completion record.” You don’t really remember taking breaths but obviously, you have or you’d be passed out after that long ass speech.

It doesn’t get you the reaction you want though, instead, Bucky just clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and lets out some long-suffering sigh like you’re the bane of his existence or some shit. You let him throw his grown-man tantrum and don’t move to stop him from huffing and puffing around the room until he goes to lie down on the floor.

“What are you doing?” you ask, every syllable dripping with exasperation.

“Sleeping, what does it look like?”

“Yeah, I can see that your trying to sleep like a caveman on the cold hard ground what I don’t understand is why, given the big ass bed right here.” You carelessly lift one hand and gesture towards the California King bed with admittedly really comfy-looking sheets spread across it.

“I’m not sleeping in the same bed as you Kitty, I thought I had told you that.” He practically snarls.

“I thought you were kidding. What? Afraid you’ll get cooties or something?”

“I’m not sharing a bed with you Y/N. Drop it.”

“Fine. You know what? Fucking be like that.” You grab a pillow off the bed and throw it down at him. Before grabbing one for yourself and taking up position on the floor a few feet away from him.

“What are you doing?”

“Funny, I thought I just asked you that.” You reply laying down on the ground with your back towards him.

“You’re not sleeping on the floor Y/N it’ll mess up your back.” `“Well then I guess you have a choice to make. Either you get over yourself and we both get to share the nice bed, I’ll even put up a pillow wall to protect your dignity if you’re that worried about it. Or we both sleep on the floor and I wake up tomorrow morning as grumpy as you because my back hurts.” You let the silence reign for a few seconds after you're done, still facing away from him and waiting for him to make the decision.

“God you’re so annoying you know that?” Bucky groans out as he moves to sit up and make his way towards the bed.

“I’ve been told it’s one of my best qualities.” You stick your tongue out at him and follow him to the bed. You follow through with your promise of a pillow wall placing three pillows length-wise between the two of you. Afterward, you turn around and turn off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness.

You wait for a few minutes thoughts racing endlessly in your mind. “Bucky?” You call out.

“What?” he mumbles back.

“Will you tell me a bedtime story?” You ask.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?

“Go the fuck to sleep.” You do.

_________________________________________________

The next morning you wake up to an empty bed, but an intact pillow wall so deem the night a success. Rolling over to check the bedside clock you see that it’s about seven and groan at the fact that Bucky’s absence apparently woke you up an hour before you had planned.

Bucky’s absence doesn’t last long, however, as minutes later he comes strolling into the room. He’s wearing a simple grey tee shirt and some black sweatpants but the entire front of his shirt is soaked making the grey a darker shade than it was originally. Similarly, his hair is dripping wet and you honestly can’t tell if he’s taken a shower yet or if he's just soaked with sweat. What confuses you more is that you don’t know which you’d prefer.

“Morning Sarge.” You call out from your place in bed. Bucky jumps a little like he forgot that you’d be in the room.

“Morning.” He mumbled before making a swift turn and essentially hiding away in the ensuite bathroom. When you hear the shower turn on you know he's still in a mood from last night. You swear to whatever god there might be that this man is going to be the death of you.

“I’m calling room service for breakfast do you want anything?” You shout at the bathroom door.

“Eggs and toast.” He calls back. You roll your eyes at his basic order but relent anyway and pick up the phone to call for the food.

His shower finishes right about the same time that the food arrives. When he walks out of the bathroom in just a towel wrapped around his waist and a smaller one in his hand ruffling his hair to dry it you about choke on the food you hadn’t even started eating yet.

“Your foods over there.” You point to the little sitting area on the opposite side of the room from you. You're sitting crisscross across the ottoman at the foot of the bed. A plate of stuffed French toast with a side of sliced peaches perched on your lap.

“I figure that we should probably talk about the plan for the rest of the weekend, to avoid any more… angst between us.” You speak between bites of your breakfast.

“I thought we already had a plan but apparently that doesn’t mean much to you does it.” He turns his body to face you and crosses his arms over his chest.

“I’m not starting the morning off like this, James. You can either talk to me like an adult or you can sulk in the corner it’s your choice.”

“I don’t sulk.”

“For a guy who doesn’t sulk or brood you sure spend a lot of time doing both.”

“I just- I don’t know why you always have to be putting yourself at risk.” You aren’t prepared for the tone shift of the conversation.

“I’m an adult Bucky, I can make those kinds of choices for myself.”

“I know you can, I just don’t see why you feel the need to.”

“What do you mean?” You can physically feel yourself start to get defensive.

“I mean that for as long as I’ve known you, you’ve always gone the extra mile, covered every base that needs to be covered and even some that don’t. You push yourself to the point of exhaustion and you don’t seem to care. You do the job of ten people when you don’t need to and it makes me tired just watching you.”

“I-”

“I wasn’t finished. Take last night for example. You went out and re-did recon that our team already did for us because you didn’t trust that they had done enough and what did you find? Nothing. Nothing that you didn’t already know from reading the mission file.”

“When did this become a fucking therapy session? I don’t recall giving you my insurance information Dr. Barnes and I’m not sure I can pay your hourly rate.” You try to deflect. He's right, you didn’t find anything new and you’d been a little pissed at yourself because of it, but you don’t need that shoved back into your face.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Push away your real feelings with jokes, Peter and Tony do the same thing and it drives me up the wall.” He stares at you.

“I don’t know what you want from me Bucky. I don’t know who you want me to be, you call me a kiss-ass when I try too hard, but you’ve been pretty clear on the fact that you don’t think I can be redeemed. You seem to care about me and yet give me shit about anything and everything that I do. I don’t know what to think or feel around you and it throws me off.”

“I do care about you.”

You don’t know what to say to that, so you don’t say anything. You and Bucky sit in silence for what could’ve been seconds minutes or hours. Neither one of you is willing to be the one who breaks the spell that has settled over the room. Both of you are saved by the bell when Bucky’s phone rings on the desk in front of him.

“It’s Steve, I’ll be right back.” He gets up and moves to take the call out in the hallway. You still don’t say anything. But you do flop onto your stomach across the bed the moment the door closes behind him.

You grab the nearest pillow to your outstretched hand and bring it to your face, screaming into it and letting out as many muffled curse words as you can before you run out of air. When you’re done throwing your mini tantrum you stand up, run a hand through your hair, and take in the deepest breath you’ve ever taken in.

It seems that Bucky’s call with Steve is going to go longer than you thought so you might as well get ready for the day. You put on the flowing wide-leg pants and halter tank that you packed, it gives just the right amount of classy that goes along with your cover in case you needed to interact with anyone, while still being easy to move in and pretty damn comfortable to boot.

You return to your perch at the foot of the bed, this time with the mission files in your hands. Despite how many times you’ve poured over them you still want to make sure that you’re ready for the gala tomorrow night. The best use of your time right now is trying to figure out the best way to get close to the Governor at the party.

Since his computer had been a bust the best way to get him was going to be a verbal confession to some of his backroom dealings. Maybe with more time, you’d be able to pull together a bit more of a sting operation and pull out all the stops trying to catch him but you were on a time crunch. The gala is tomorrow and then after that the governor starts his reelection campaign.

Bucky walks back into the room and throws his phone on the bed next to you, “Steve said the analysts back home got word that there’s a new player to be aware of tomorrow. The Governor's son is gonna be there, he's been flouncing across Europe for the better part of the last five years and we’re not exactly sure why he’s back but we know it’s important. Think you can handle it?”

“Did you actually just use the word ‘flounce’ in a sentence.”

“Can you handle it or not.”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist Barnes, I got this.”

“I don’t doubt it, Kitty, in the meantime though maybe we should do some asking around to see what we can get on the kid.”

“Honestly, James I’m a little hurt that you think I’m that far behind you. Besides, I know exactly where to look to get the answers I’ll need.”

“And where is that exactly?” Bucky looks at you and raises an eyebrow.

“His Instagram.” Snapchat, Twitter, and any and all other social media you can get your hands on. You know rich kids better than any other group of people in the world, they’re incredibly naive most of the time and some of the easiest targets because they’re sharing their entire lives with the world. If there's something to know about this guy, you’ll find it on his socials.

You and Bucky spend the rest of the day and well into the night, doing your research. At some point, you’d been given access to the full guest list which allowed you to add some names to your internet stalking session. By two in the morning, you can confidently say that you know this guy and several of the other guests who would be attending better than they knew themselves.

“Alright doll, it’s time for sleep.” Bucky grabs your laptop and closes the lid before taking it off your lap completely and plugging it in for you.

“What? I was just getting in the groove! I found another rabbit hole.”

“I don't know what that means but I know that it’s late and we have to be on our best game tomorrow so sleep it is.”

“You can sleep, but I need to keep working,” Bucky calls your name.

“This is the type of stuff I’m talking about, working yourself to death. Trust in the work you did today, trust that you’ve got everything you need. I do.”

You will never admit to the way that your heart thumps when you realize just how much faith Bucky has in you.

“I’ve made that mistake before, trusting myself and trusting others, it never goes well for me.”

“Well then, work yourself to death and be sloppy and tired tomorrow if you want, but do it over there with just a desk lamp because I’m going to bed.”

“Fine. I will.” Stubbornly, you pick up the notebooks and files that surround you and move them all to the too-small desk in the corner of the room. You flick the lamp light on and groan at the dimness of the bulb. Bucky’s words bounce around your skull, you wouldn’t be sloppy. You were never sloppy. Sloppy meant getting hurt or worse. You couldn’t be sloppy.

Fuck. You couldn’t be sloppy, especially with Bucky’s life on the line too.

You growl low in your throat as you flick the lamp off and begin getting ready for bed, pretending not to hear the triumphant snort that comes from the lump on the bed.

“Scoot over, you fucking starfish, leave some room for me.” You shove at Bucky’s back, nothing happens of course but he takes pity on you and scooches over anyway. “Do I need to construct another pillow wall Your Highness or do you think you’ll be okay for one more night?”

“I think I’ll survive. But know that if you kick me in the middle of the night I reserve the right to shove your ass onto the floor.”

“Noted.”

#plus size reader #fanfic #plus size!reader #fluff #x reader #drabble #bucky imagine #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes #requests open #requests wanted

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jolalibrary · 11 months ago

Text

stockings and stars

javier peña x f!reader

summary: Still need the star putting on the top of the tree. ive got other plans for you Because I’m the star? yeah you're my star and youre not going anywhere but on your back

from the late night texts world - but can still be enjoyed on its own. chapter warnings: allusion to/mentions of smut. no actual smut. javi undresses you, though. flirting. fluff. reader wears red lingerie and a dressing gown. javi flirting. sexy talk, romcom vibes ofc ✨ wordcount: 3k

an: to @goodwithcheese merry christmas from me, to you. thank you for everything, for the tuesday fun we have - i wanted nothing more than to have this out sooner, but life, you know? but, i adore you. and I'm so glad we found one another. ahuge thanks to @thetriumphantpanda who cheerleaded for me throughout.

text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi

Will I be seeing Santa Javi today? I want to decorate my tree.

one time I come to yours in a red shirt

You also had the tree under your arm and a bag of baubles, I’d class those as gifts.

keep talking baby and you can decorate your tree alone

Think I’m gonna wear that shirt you left here while I do it. Make sure I have to get up on my tip toes. Hope it doesn't rise up...

you don’t play fair

I think I’ll be in stockings too…

youre killing me

Maybe they’re white and red, and…

baby if i wasn’t putting this thing up for Pop, i’d be driving over right now

Hope you hurry up, I need someone tall to put the star on top of the tree.

how am I gonna eat you out when youre perched on the tree baby

The last thing on his to-do list from his Pop is to hang the front porch garland.

He had learnt there had been a huge difference in the front and the back porch garlands. A fifteen-minute-long difference when he'd timed the response given to his sarcastic answer.

Javi learnt there was not only one for the back porch and the front, but one which sat across the fireplace and one on the staircase.

He learnt that after he'd made a joke about mixing them up—earning himself a very pointed glare, and the task of the front porch.

Now, it’s a battle he’s losing.

Tremendously so.

While he’d never want his Pop to do the more challenging tasks, he did rather hate he hadn’t thought to trade this one in for the back porch at the very least—because that had looked fucking easy.

Holding the garland in hand, he’s suddenly hit with a second wave of nostalgia, the first having arrived when he'd pulled down the box and peered into it.

It did the same thing as it had done then, all but rushed over him, layering itself on his shoulders, sitting, nothing short of a comfortable weight on him. Letting his gaze fall out over it, he smiles at the tuffs of fabric, all the bows tied by hand, all in an array of sizes and shades.

Over time, he can see how they've become sun-dyed, remembering the first year they'd been sewn into the faux greenery by his mamá, memories of her all hunched over, humming carols.

Smiling, he rolls his lips, letting out a heavier sigh than he intended as he drags it to the post he’d begin at.

But, all he wonders is whether in the years he wasn’t here, whether it was occasionally hung—or if this year is just that special.

The mere hint that he was going to ask if you wished to spend Christmas at the ranch had sent his Pop into overdrive. Practically yanked him out of his chair like he’d been electrified, a bunch of orders being flung from under his white, wiry moustache that they needed to get ready.

He wasn't sure he'd get the image of his Pop suddenly scrambling around like a man half his age, to drag the decorations out from the cupboard, would ever be erased from his mind. Least of all the sound you'd made aww'ing down the phone when he'd given you a condensed version of the story.

Because he hasn't asked you yet, not properly.

Even though he's spent the last two days at the back of barns and spending a ridiculous amount of time at the hardware store—because we need to make sure the lights stay up, Jav.

He just hasn't found the right time to ask you. A promise each time he goes to see you left in the air. Not that his Pop remembers that, instead he's just busy thinking up ways to make it special: one of which includes decorating the trees at the entrance to the ranch.

An idea having sprouted with the newest ranch hand—one which, if Javi overheard correctly, involves rope acting like tinsel and a cowboy hat being the star on the top of the trees.

Feeling his phone vibrate, he temporarily ignores it as he begins to weave the beginning of the garland around the wood—already knowing, before he tries to move it around the spindles, that it isn’t going to be easy.

Because nothing ever fucking is.

Least of all when you’re waiting for him.

His mind begins to concoct images of you in bows and sheer material, lips painted, sat waiting, smelling nothing short of heavenly as you call out for—

“Fuck,” he shouts, dropping the garland to the ground.

It had pricked him, stabbed him right in the skin—hand shaking the pain out, face likely all scrunched. And, if it didn't have sentimental value, he's sure he'd have kicked its protesting ass with everything he had. Instead, he just narrows his eyes more than he had done moments ago as he begins again.

He feels his nostrils flare when it begins to undo itself. The sound of faux bristles on wood grates him before it will even attempt to do what he needs it to.

And it makes him want to quit, to throw it back into the box and tell his Pop it isn’t worth it. But he knows it is. Knows that his mama didn’t spend hours bent over under flickering light for it not to be seen.

Javi also strongly suspects you’d love it. Likely run your fingers over several bows asking who made it. He can even imagine the look of joy on your face when he tells you.

It’s why, if he didn’t already suspect it anyway, he’s pretty sure his Pop loves you more than him. Because even the first Christmas he was back, there weren’t this many decorations; not nearly as much need to have them all out, either.

Not that Javi really minds—or blames him.

There’s a notable shift in energy when you stay over. Even more so in him. He can see there’s a cheer and a glow to the place—one Javi hates watching vanish when he takes you back to your place.

It's why, when—and where—he can, he fights for you to be here. Practically finds convincing ways to do so, including, crossword puzzles, dinner, and two-person showers. But, at some stage, your clothing dwindles, underwear runs low, and he has to make the painful drive into town to return you to your place.

Your fingers in his hair, practically clambered into his lap as you whisper that you’ll be back before he knows it. His fingers on your chin, thumb stroking out the words he says right back—that he’ll miss you all the same.

Javier Peña. Texan softie—what will the world think?

He only thinks one thing when he drives back—a response which had been there on his lips. Guess they’ll see just how much I love you. A thing you know, comment on, say back to him first thing in the morning and last thing at night. An array of promises there, sometimes spoken at a normal level and sometimes whispered.

You always keep them, just like the one that you are always back before he knows it.

He likes it when you are. Enjoys it when you’re nestled beside him, arm across his chest, hand close to his ribs—strumming them, tracing lines and words he tries to understand before sleep takes him.

He still always sleeps better when you’re beside him. When his breathing can mirror yours, when he can feel for you in the night when he’s awoken with nightmares and things he knows won’t ever come true.

Now, he’s fighting a different battle. One to get to you.

Halted in his path to freedom by the garland which refused to be hung, and could be labelled as giving him more grief than the horses which had banded together. A phrase he never thought he’d admit out loud, never mind think.

You still fighting with the garland?

baby its torturing me on purpose

Do you want me to come and help?

will you come in the stockings

No!! Your dad is there.

then stay there actually lie down, but do not begin without me

Still need the star putting on the top of the tree.

ive got other plans for you

Because I’m the star?

yeah you're my star and youre not going anywhere but on your back

Hurry then.

i’m hurrying

He does hurry—practically scratched up by the time he’s parking his truck outside your place.

As he takes the step up to your door, Javi realises how much he misses it here when he doesn’t visit. A place less frequent and often spent time in, even under your insistence of renting it.

It is always usually a stopping point, him parking up, letting you go in and grab what you need before you're back in his truck, heading back to his.

He does like your place though, likes how small it is, how cosy. Plus, it has all the things which make you, you. A thing his place is currently missing.

Although, as he steps through the door, and calls your name, he does have to admit it currently looks fucking ridiculous.

On a good day, he’d describe your place as crowded, but right now, it’s claustrophobic.

The tree you’d forced him to get is shoved into a corner, branches fluffed out, surrounded by the piles of unpacked boxes you’ve tried to discreetly hide. Your remaining floorspace is overtaken by a bit of rug, several piles of books (you have no room for, but continue to buy) and odd bits of furniture you find and attempt to restore.

For the most part, you’ve decorated. A thing you did inform him of.

You’ll be pleased to know when you get here your only job is the star. managed it all yourself, did you I’m a very competent woman, Javi. oh i know baby ive seen you with a crossword Does that do it for you? Me finishing a crossword. does something to me Get over here. im leaving now

There’s a warm, comforting glow spread out across the place from the fairy lights you’ve hung and the array of mismatched decorations—both bought and handmade—hanging from branches.

He breathes in the scent of orange which hangs in the air, his eyes finding the culprit on your fireplace, a garland—one not dissimilar to the one he’d been battled with—places there, mocking him due to the ease of which had been laid, with oranges and little beads all entwined within it.

Snorting, he glances back at your tree, spotting the things he's been with you when you've bought. And, as promised—and informed him through text—there’s nothing at the top of your tree.

“You finally made it!”

Spinning on his heel, he comes face to face with you, and fuck if the sight of you doesn’t make it all worth it.

Dressed in a red, silky dressing gown, all tied in the middle, you're a vision. Then, there's the fact your lips are painted a shade he’d now famously dub Christmas red, a colour he wants nothing more than to be stained with. A path of it from his mouth down to the space where his jeans meet his hips. A thought which seems to only make how tight his jeans are even more uncomfortable.

“Cariño, you’re…”

You sway a little, letting the fabric move—allowing his gaze to land on the stockings. The ones he’s been thinking about all afternoon. The ones he can’t wait to feel under his palm and know whether they’ll create friction when wrapped around his waist.

“Fuck me.”

“I’m kinda banking on it,” you say, biting your red-painted lip. “But first…”

His hand crawls around your waist, feeling the smooth, soft texture under his hand—swallowing, dragging his eyes up and down you, unsure how he could ever be so lucky—how something so good could ever be here for him to unwrap.

“I need you to hang the star,” you continue.

“Right now?”

Nodding, you ghost your lips over his. “I’ve been so good waiting for you.”

“You're never good. You, baby, are a menace.”

“I’m your menace.”

Snorting, he presses a kiss to your lips. “Damn right, you are.”

Moving from you, reluctantly, only to pick up the gold star he assumes you want to hang, getting a nod from you that he’s right.

“Need to ask you something too.”

And even though he’s only taken a mere short step from you, he’s floored all over again about what a picture you look like when he glances back. That you’re standing all for him, dressed in nothing but cheer and ribbons all for him.

“Go on.”

Turning to your tree, he flattens his hand to the wall for stability. “I wanted…”

His concentration slides in—suddenly aware he doesn’t want to knock anything from the branches. Doesn’t want to force things to be misplaced from where they were expertly hung.

He’s also sure he’s wanting to swallow the question. A part of him, all the way deep inside of him, having been bracing—and waiting—to hear you’d be apart for the holidays. A thing the two of you have rarely been since you moved here, not a day going by he hasn’t seen you for at least an hour.

“Wanted to know if you—shit—” the star almost sitting atop, before at the last minute protesting. “I wanted to know if you wanted to spend Christmas with me—with us, me and Pop. At the ranch.”

The star slides into place, sitting more comfortably with another shove, more branch supporting it.

But he doesn’t turn, not immediately. Not as the question hums around him, swirls in the silence of you not immediately saying yes. So much so, that it takes him a second to move on his heels, to face you—to read the answer before it’s delivered.

What he sees is something his heart couldn’t have ever prepared for.

You, grinning—a silly, almost goofy, smile spreading out as you bite down on your lip, forehead slightly crinkled.

“You… you want me to spend the holidays with you?”

“Of course—cariño, I want nothing more than for you to be with me.”

It all quick to leave his mouth, mirroring the movement to be back in front of you, fingers under your chin, lifting your eyes—those beautiful, fucking eyes—to his.

“Do… do you—wanna spend it with me?”

You pull a different face before you’re nodding. One more excited, one which begins to expel out over a smile and a bunch of escaping phrases such as I can’t believe you want me with you and of course.

“Why wouldn’t I want to be with you?”

Shrugging, you scrunch your nose—an act he finds just as cute as the first time he saw it. “Guess it’s a big deal. It’s… a thing people do with families.”

Pulling you close by your hips, your hand lands flat on his chest. “You are my family.”

“Javi,” you whisper, making each letter feel so individual the way you say it, that it makes his heart double.

“It’s true. You’re it for me, cariño. All I’ve wished for.”

Eyes widening, your eyes shimmer under the lights—more so than normal. Taking a deep breath, you lift your chin before pressing a kiss to his mouth. One which turns hungry, desperate—your mouth searing, a thing he’s craved since he woke up before the sun even rose.

“Baby,” you whisper.

And he hums.

It vibrates out, able to feel it from the way his fingers cup your cheek.

“Undo me.”

Releasing your lips with a pop, he opens his eyes, studying your eyes, moving from one to the other.

“Go on,” you urge in a whisper, more breathless, more tinged with something that makes his skin hot.

Sliding his fingers over the knot, he barely has to tug before it comes undone—unveiling you, like a curtain which wishes to part. If he’d thought you’d looked good before, he’s sure every bit of you is a sin now—a Christmas sin.

Red and lace. It’s all he sees. It sitting there, against you, hugging your breasts—sitting on your hips. His mouth is suddenly dry at the thought of running his tongue over the place it meets your skin before pulling it down.

Your fingers follow his eyes, sliding between the valley to land on the bow in the centre, twisting the edge of the tie around your index finger—palm skating over your stomach, allowing him more chance to take in how you’re stood before him in see-through fabric and promises.

“How’d I get so lucky?” he asks, more to no one, than to you.

His fingers teasing the fabric sat on your hip—marvelling, unsure how to think straight until you clear your throat, forcing his eyes to meet yours.

“Hey,” you whisper, tightening your hold on his hands, bringing his arms more around your waist, pressing your front to him, feeling the heat from your skin through your clothes. “You’re all I wished for too.”

Smiling, he looks at your tree, before landing back on you. “You look so good.”

“I know. Could look better though?” His brow arches as you slowly begin to smile, the tip of your tongue sliding over your upper lip. “Everything is held in place by bows.”

Groaning, he closes his eyes, letting his hand slide down your lower back, over sheer material before his fingers find the ribbon on your hip.

“All for you.”

“Mine,” he answers, slotting his mouth over yours—staining the four letters to your lips.

His fingers slide around, brushing over soft skin, until he finds the first bow. Undoing it with ease, licking into your mouth, only to grunt against you when you whimper as the fabric falls to your feet.

“Yours,” you say back, your own hands beginning to undo him.

an: merry christmas, love you

#javier peña x f!reader #javier peña x reader #javier peña #javier peña narcos #javi peña x reader #javi peña x you #javi pena #javier peña x you #narcos x reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javi pena x reader #narcos javier x reader #narcos javier #pedro pascal x reader #narcos fanfiction

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judasofsuburbia · 1 year ago

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So you’re looking to write some smut but feeling stuck, uninspired, or unsure where to start. Smut writing comes easily to some and not others, and that’s okay! Here are some tips I’ve gathered over my few years of writing smut to take with a grain of salt! It's my opinion; you can always do what you want!! <333

It’s fiction writing at the end of the day. So, it’s okay if you haven’t experienced what you’re writing about or maybe you have experienced it but you find it difficult to put it into words. I’ve never fought a creature from the Upside Down but I’ve written about it because that’s what fiction writing IS!! You’re creating a story from your own experiences/thoughts/emotions and applying it to a made-up scenario. So don’t feel discouraged by your own personal journey, anyone can write smut!!

When in doubt, plan it out. When I’m really stuck, just simply grabbing a piece of notebook paper and writing out each event in a sequence, even in the most basic terms, can make things so much easier. For example: making out, blow job, hand job, prep, fuck. Write down positions (sometimes limbs can get lost in the sauce and it is so hard to figure out how they’re actually doing it lmao). Write down settings. Write down if one person is leading it more than the other or if they switch off. Write down desperation levels (personally, I think it’s more fun when desperation is very high but casual fluffy smut is fun too!!) This will help the writing process feel a lot less daunting.

More specifically, remember that prep is important. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been taken out of a smutty fic because they get to the main act (penetration, typically) way before someone should be ready to. Fingers, mouths, and lube (actual lube or something that can be safely used as lube. Blood is not lube. Blood is not lube as it is a liquid that dries quickly and offers no moisture so it will not help you penetrate anything, as hot as it would be.) Foreplay and prep can be a really good tool to establish a sexy dynamic between your characters and get the reader ramped up to read through to the end!

If you feel like the action part is getting too technical, this is where you can add in thoughts and emotions that will give your smut some personality. It can feel very silly to write, for instance, your character A thinking “Wow character B is so hot” but it’s a thought that would probably cross their mind!! Write out any nerves the characters are feeling or maybe even the confidence they’re feeling. Write out what sensations they pay attention to. Write out what they like and dislike. Write out what actions cause an immediate response from them (moaning, bucking their hips, groaning, eyes rolling, etc.) Write out how your character would verbally respond (Are they dirty talking? Are they praising? Are they degrading? Are they stuttering through their words? Are they incoherent because the sex is so good?) It’s important that your characters still feel natural and not like sex robots. Unless your story is about sex robots, then go off!!!

The thesaurus is your fucking FRIEND!! Smut can feel ridiculously repetitive, especially if you’ve written it before. I say every time I write a blow job scene that “god blow job scene is blow job scene is blow job scene” because that’s how it FEELS! Use your resources like the thesaurus or there are a million posts with other ways to say “said”, ways to describe a kiss, etc. Just be careful that you don’t fall into using words that seem unnatural to the flow of the story (for example, a lot of synonyms for cock are simply…unsettling and can take your reader out of the story). Find ways to creatively tell the same action again and again which leads to tip #5…

Go read some smut. The tag “porn what plot” is so unbelievably helpful. Even if the writing isn’t exactly your style or your preference, sometimes reading someone else’s descriptions of sexual acts can be helpful if you’re lost! I have a few faves that I go back to read to get inspiration and I have notes about what it is specifically I enjoyed about their work. While you’re at it, if a fic inspires you and you feel comfortable doing so, leave a comment! It’ll make the author’s day, I promise.

TAKE THIS TIP WITH AN ABSOLUTE GRAIN OF SALT but…go watch it. Or my personal preference, go listen to it. If I’m really lost, I’ll seek out audio porn that follows the same ~vibe~ of whatever I’m writing. There are many websites for this but Soundgasm is my go-to (it’s a free upload site so there are THOUSANDS of sounds and varying quality levels so it might take a second to find what you’re looking for)! Even a sexy playlist on Spotify can put you into a good headspace for writing. Just make sure you’re being safe and looking out for your own comfort levels. Never put yourself in a situation to experience something triggering for the sake of writing a good story.

All of this to say, it is so different to write smut than it is to write a regular plot. It can feel incredibly daunting to go about it and find the perfect balance between technical actions and thoughts/feelings/dialogue and then make it all cohesive in the end. It’s hard to do but it’s not impossible!

#i hope this is helpful in some way!!#writing #writing tips #fanfiction writing #smut #smut writing #fanfiction #archive of our own #writing tools #writing reference #references #reference

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someshakespearequote · 27 days ago

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Okay, I don't want to give airtime to assholes, but let's unpack this a little.

On the left, for the sexy way things used to be, we have:

Concept art for a Qunari woman, which was shown next to a Qunari guy wearing about as little. This didn't look like how Qunari looked in DAO! Also, this isn't actually a character! I understand that the guys making this video would prefer that women be objects of their desire rather than actual people in any capacity, but this was just an example piece!

Art for Morrigan looking like Little Red Riding Hood -- again, not actually how she looked in the game.

Leliana with a ridiculous glow-up because this is how she looked in the Urn of Sacred Ashes trailer, not in the actual game.

Isabela, okay, you got me, this one is actually an in-game asset, except that no, do not cite the DA2 ladies to me, witch. I was there when they were written. I am old enough to remember when DA2 shipped, and the spiritual ancestors of this asshole posted comments on messageboards saying that DA2 had no attractive romanceable women, because Bethany was your sister, Merrill had elven features, and Isabela was, according to these sad incels, "too exotic." I remember this because I remember saying, "If the dirty-talking sexually liberated rogue with sun-kissed skin and a lip piercing who runs around with no pants is not up to your standards, your standards are bad."

Meanwhile, on the right, for the apparent current non-sexiness, we have:

Morrigan, who a) looks great, to the point where some people are saying she should look older (not me -- give Morrigan the Cate Blanchett/Rachel Weisz "inexplicably hotter as she gets older" treatment, you go, girl); b) isn't a romance option this time; and c) is actually an in-game asset, unlike Little Red Concept Art over on the left.

Neve, using concept art that was meant to show the costume and not the attitude. Because when you see Neve in game sashaying up to you after freezing bad guys, she looks great, and when I saw the bit of her in the lighthouse with her scarf untied and her blouse unbuttoned, I legitimately forgot what the conversation was about. (And perish angry, ableist haters. People with prostheses get to be sexy, too.)

Taash, looking great. We still don't know what's going on with the whole gender deal there, but as someone who was lucky enough to take one random college elective course the same quarter that half of the varsity women's volleyball team decided to do so, if your spectrum for finding a woman hot does not include women who are tall and have muscles, then that's a you problem, not a them problem.

One random chargen Qunari, which, whatever.

Notes about people being trans, which, as with the ableism, perish angry. Trans women are women. And if Taash ends up being non-binary or some other non-cis-woman option, and that is what turns you off and not the muscles, then again, that's a you problem, not a them problem, and those of us who can like boobs even when they're on someone who isn't a cis woman will be over here with Ruby Rose and Demi Lovato.

Oddly not present on the horribly unsexy right:

Bellara, who is adorkable and also giving Neve a run for her money at "most distracting collarbones in the Lighthouse."

Harding, whose smile lights up the room in the scenes we've seen so far and who was called out by fans as someone they wanted back as a romance option after people saw her in DAI, which was before her glow-up.

Like, I understand that the ideal right thing to do is to tell these jerks that the companions of Veilguard are deep and fully realized characters, and judging them just based on which ones you wanna bang is asshole behavior... but this is a Dragon Age game. It is, as the devs once joked, a dating sim with a small "save the world" minigame you do between scenes. And by those standards, the women of Veilguard (either including Taash, or and also Taash, depending on how that goes) look fantastic. I don't know who I'm gonna romance yet, because I fall for a character more while I'm doing quests with them and getting to know them, but this is a squad with many flavors of gorgeous. Sorry it has character art that includes, you know, character and not the creepy sex doll look of one of those Steam games that includes disclaimers about everyone being of legal age and none of the girls being actually related to you.

It's not a them problem, assholes. It's a you problem.

#dragon age inquisition #dragon age #dragon age the veilguard #dragon age origins #dragon age 2 #morrigan #leliana #neve gallus #taash #isabela dragon age #isabela #bellara lutare #scout harding #lace harding

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moonlightdreamzz · 2 years ago

Text

kill bill

part one

you return back to korea one year after you and hyunjin broke up, only to find out he has replaced you. how could he replace you?

→ g: all of it. the pain, the sexy, the happiness. angstsmutfluff! <3

🎧 ➤ kill bill by sza

warning! you’re a heartbroken bitter ex girlfriend here, although for a valid reason. party environment! mentions of (w**d) and alcohol, language, and infidelity!

I'm so mature, I'm so mature

I'm so mature, I got me a therapist to tell me there's other men

I don't want none, I just want you

If I can't have you, no one should

it felt so, so good to scream these lyrics from the pit of your stomach. you imagine anyone that could hear you and felix passionately singing alongside sza had many questions, the first being; who hurt you? but, as always neither of you care in this moment. the two of you have finally finished cleaning up the dorm in preparation for changbin’s surprise birthday party; the only thing left to do now was decorate and get ready.

you have no idea where the rest of the members are, but who are you to ask questions? knowing your friend, he didn’t trust them to get the job done in time. they could be so damn silly sometimes, taking forever to do the simplest tasks. it was adorable watching their sad attempts to hold all their jokes and playful tendencies within. they failed every time.

felix, who is clearly exhausted from your early morning grind can’t help but to back into the wall and slide down to the wooden floors. he takes a deep breath before blowing upwards, causing the hair covering his forehead to lift ever so slightly.

“someone’s tired.” you chuckle, deciding to lay on the couch over the cold wood. you are so tempted to beg felix for a quick nap, but you know he’s gonna ridicule you for it if you do—in a friendly way of course. he has been talking about this party and how perfect it has to be for what felt like forever. you know deep down his real reasoning for being so prompt was because of who’s birthday it is.

“how can I truly be tired though, y/n?” his aussie accent is thick as he confesses his shame to you, “you came all the way here, landed early as hell in the morning with jet lag, and here you are cleaning with me. i need to get up.” just like that, felix has risen again and stretches his arms out before moving to start taking the decorations out the box.

he was always too hard on himself. “lix,” you coo, walking towards him and placing your hand on his shoulder gently, “getting rest is vital. even if for thirty minutes, why don’t you relax for a little bit? at least close your eyes?”

you can tell he’s considering it by the way his eyes look straight ahead into nothingness, but just as quick as the thought comes, it goes. he inhales deeply before continuing to take things from the huge brown box.

“i promise I’ll rest after this is all over. i just…i don’t want anything to mess up on my end.”

so, they really were all the same huh? those words trigger what feels like a thousand memories into your mind— all of someone you know you will have to see tonight. you were certain he has spoken that exact sentence to you on multiple occasions when you expressed how worried you were about his physical and mental health. you still have no idea what you’re going to say when the two of you eventually bump into each-other at this party.

you’re fidgeting now, and felix’s heart feels as if it wants to jump out of him for the day, but not because he was in love with you or anything. no, felix was incredibly guilty. he knows you’re thinking about his bandmate. you were always so…dazed when he was on your mind.

all day there has been this weird silence in the air between you and felix, which was abnormal to say the least. before you moved back home, you were two peas in a pod. your conversations could last for hours if you let it. all of the boys, but especially felix told you that they loved how free they felt around you. they loved how normal they felt in your presence. you didn’t know why it was such a bad thing, but apparently it was a sin here to have some fun.

the minutes keep passing by and felix has yet to utter a word to you. have things really changed this drastically since you left? was he angry at you for leaving? did you not check up on him enough?

“felix i—

“hyunjin has a new girlfriend!” he spits out as if there was a pistol on his scalp. the balloon he was blowing up flies from the machine, squealing as it tries to find a place to land. if there was a metaphor to describe what those words just did to you, it was that. you felt like a lifeless balloon. the tension in the room is so thick you feel like your throat is about to start closing on you.

your clear vision is now red, so much so, that you were certain your tears would be the same color if you weren’t fighting for your life to hold them in your tear ducts. you hate that even after a year, exactly a year by the way, that he still has so much control over your emotions.

“who?” are the only words you can manage.

felix thought that confessing to you would make him feel better, but as he watches you clearly refraining yourself from having a mental breakdown, he feels a thousand times worse. maybe he should have listened to changbin and chris when they told him to just let you see it. no—he was right. if you were going to hate him, he would rather you be able to say he warned you instead of you finding out from seeing hyunjin waltz in here with his new woman.

“some girl. she’s not famous, and I have no idea where he met her. i’m sorry, y/n. i know you’ve been going to therapy and everything and I just—I never wanted to trigger you. it’s still not an excuse I just—

“lix,” you finally breathe after what felt like days, even though it had only been a minute or two. “i’m not angry with you. how could I be?”

“because i’m your friend.”

“you’re his friend too.” is all you can muster. you know a look of defeat was prominent on your features, but you can’t fake it right now. it wasn’t worth it. you’re trying to push it down, but the rage is burning in the pit of your stomach. you looked so sane to the naked eye. upset? sure. pissed? maybe? but you were way more than those two emotions. you were heartbroken and livid all over again; a woman scorned. all you can hear in your mind right now is the last thing hyunjin uttered to you.

i will never be able to replace you. i need you to breathe. i love you. i’m so sorry. i’m sorry I failed you when I promised I never would.

you heard it in your dreams and nightmares what felt like every night. his voice cracked so clearly on the phone that night. he usually tried to be tough for you, pretending as if nothing could get to him, but not this time. he was so hysterical.

you believed him. you didn’t want to, but he was sobbing. or maybe your ego was big as fuck, and the thought of hyunjin unable to move on from you fed into your fantasy of him suffering without you. you hated that you felt this way, but it doesn’t matter now. it was all a lie.

“y/n.” you hear felix trying to snap you back to reality.

there’s a million things you want to say. you want to see her. you want to ask felix if hyunjin is as happy as he was with you. but you figure you’d save those questions for when he had to see you tonight. if he moved on genuinely, fine. but he was going to have to say it to your face.

“I’m cool.” you smile as if you hadn’t heard the news. you begin ripping the plastic off the decorations you assumed went on the wall based on their shape. you can feel felix’s doe eyes burn holes into you, but you learned a long time ago how to ignore that.

“you sure?” he questions in disbelief.

“positive. i just needed a minute to digest it. I’m good.”

the song you and felix had been shouting the lyrics to has replayed, neither you or Felix knowing the lyrics sza was singing beautifully would foreshadow what was to come later tonight.

I did it all for love

I did all of this on no drugs

I did all of this sober

Don't you know I did it all for us?

fit pics; a necessity when going to any function, but especially when you want your ex to feel sick to their stomach.

yes, you are that girl that makes your friends take your pictures over and over again—hating them all. no, you are not ashamed. this was jisung’s fifth round of taking pics of you, and you are trying so hard to hold in your laughter at his frustration. he’s looking at you, and you know he hasn’t blinked or breathed—already knowing that you’re going to tell him you don’t like the twenty new pictures he’s placed in your camera roll.

“if you don’t like these, i don’t know what to tell you. you look mad good. stop acting like that.”

“you’re lucky I’m pleased.” you smirk, pushing him playfully, “this is the least you can do for the many years you’ve spent trolling my ass, or have you forgotten?”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” he smirks back. his eyes attempt prove his innocence, but they fail and he can’t help but to push you back to play it off.

the music can be heard from outside of the dorms, and you have no idea how they are pulling this off tonight, but you never ask questions; you simply follow suit. you didn’t intend on missing the surprise, but jisung called you frantically saying that he was going to be late and that he would owe you if you pulled up alongside him. truth be told, you pretended that you were fine with being late because you loved him oh-so much, but in reality you wanted to make an entrance.

you wanted hyunijn to pace back and forth as his new girl got ready—heart practically beating out of his chest at the thought of having to see you. you knew he would arrive in preparation to say surprise! to his bandmate, subtly searching for you everywhere. obviously, you aren’t there, but he won’t know whether you are just in the bathroom, late, or not coming at all.

the time will continue to pass—but still no sign of you. his girl is there, so he won’t express his interest about your whereabouts out loud, but he will text felix wondering where you are. she’s coming, is all felix is going to respond, already receiving the text from you that you were running late to ride with jisung, but not wanting to spill your beans to your ex, regardless of the fact that he was hyunjin’s friend too.

you know his anxiety is going up and down right now. he’s probably not paying ole’ girl any attention because hyunjin knows. he fucking knows that any second now you will walk into that dorm and he’ll have to recall his last words to you. he’ll also have to see how damn fine you look tonight from head to toe. he’ll think of every single late night he tried to replace your body, but couldn’t. you love changbin so much, but he was crazier than you when it came to his lovers. he will understand. you also know he’s probably ten shots in by now, so if he was upset with you, the alcohol had drowned it away.

“come on.” jisung instructs. you’re surprised he’s not snapping in your face like everyone else does when you daze out. it had rained earlier, so the weather is perfect—not cold, but not hot. you and hyunjin love this kind of weather. if the two of you were still together, you’d probably be outside whispering sweet nothings to each-other while smoking a blunt and embracing the relaxing breeze that blew through the city.

you follow your friend, taking his hand that was extended out to you. he knows you too well. your anxiety was beginning to build up from the pit of your stomach. it always makes you feel sick and dizzy and you want to turn around and run off, but you can’t. your feet have began to hurt too—your boots although fashionable, never being the move when you were going to be standing for a long time.

“these are some of the trainees that’ll be in the next group.” jisung spills as you approach the entrance. you can’t tell whether they want to be here or not, but you can’t lie, this is adorable.

they greet the both of you respectfully—you, only because you were with their hyung, and the two of you step in promptly. immediately the smell of marijuana clouds your senses, and you can’t help but let out a cough. the music was so loud that you know you will likely have a headache in the morning, but it was worth it. there are people everywhere and they’re all doing the same thing; smoking, taking shots, and trying to find their person for the night.

“look who it is, finally.” a drunk changbin stumbles your way, immediately embracing you and picking you up. he reeks of everything in this room, including women, but you expect nothing less from the man of the hour. he looks nice—a typical all black fit from him. he continues to slur things to you that you can’t understand, but you know it’s something along the lines of “i’m so happy to see you.” and “don’t think you’re running from these shots.”

jisung doesn’t understand what he’s saying either, and the two of you make eye contact before he pats changbin’s back to put you back down in the ground.

“happy birthday!” the two of you yell in unison. ah, you would be lying if you said you didn’t miss him. he was always so sweet to you, and in this moment as you and jisung congratulate him on another year of life, you heart is warm seeing the genuine smile on his face.

“thank you, love.” he slurs once more. “you know, you were always my favorite. my favorite girlfriend that is. smart, gorgeous, and actually fun.” the music seems as if it’s gotten even louder, but you hear him loud and clear.

now you’re the one smiling. “thank you. i got you a lot of gifts, but the rest of them I need you to open sober. here’s one you can have now.” you see jisung’s panic as you hand his bandmate a little bottle of hennessy. you know the second either you two walk away or changbin does, that he’s going to cuss you out for not telling him you brought a gift. “from me and jisung.” you add with a potent smirk on your face. you see him exhale beside you, and here you are again holding in your damn laugh.

“now y/n…you know you have to take a shot with me, right? thank…thank you.” all of a sudden there’s a hand on changbin’s shoulder, and she’s pulling him back towards where the bedrooms are. you make your false promises knowing he won’t even remember you’re here soon.

“you owe me two, han jisung.” you twirl to face him now.

“yeah, whatever. look, as always I’ll look out for you, but I can’t lie it’s time for me to put some shots in my body and find me something to lick on…for later.”

“ew! you’re like…fifteen.”

“i’m literally twenty-two?” he blinks repeatedly.

“whatever. i’m going to the bathroom.”

and you’re off. you see a couple of familiar faces on what should be a short journey to the restroom, but isn’t due to how crowded the this place is. your heart is racing, fearing that you’ll say excuse me to someone, and they’ll turn around just for it to be hyunjin. you planned this out so well in your head, just to be shaking in your boots now…literally. your feet hurt even more then they did ten minutes ago.

you finally make it to the restroom after what feels like forever. you’re afraid to even go in there, terrified about who you may see partaking in adults activities and not wanting to argue with someone who was hogging the room just because they hate parties. you hate those kind of people.

you knock—nothing. you knock again—nothing. you can barely stand now because you genuinely have to pee, and maybe there is someone in there, and they are responding— you just can’t hear them, but fuck it. you open the door quickly, closing it just as fast so a creep doesn’t try to slide in here with you. you’re about to run to the toilet when you notice someone very familiar sitting on the floor with his face buried in his hands. no fucking way. no way.

he looks up at you, his eyes irritated at first from being intruded on. he probably did say someone was in here. but the second he sees you, his eyes widen. it’s as if he’s seen a ghost.

“y/n…y/n?”

you haven’t heard him say your name in a year. you haven’t heard his voice. you don’t know how you’re still standing considering the fact that you’re having a stare down with the love of your life. you know your eyes are softening as you continue to make eye contact with him. he’s still so…beautiful. how was it possible that he has become even more attractive, even with his eyes slightly red. had he been crying?

snap out of it, y/n!

just as quick as all of the memories begin to run through your head, you turn the movie off, pulling down your shorts and panties. “move, hyunjin.” is all you say, quickly sitting down on the toilet and emptying your bladder. he scoots ever so slightly, eyes still burning holes into you even as you pee loudly and your eyes look straight forward now.

this isn’t happening right now, is it?

authors note: part two coming soon…🤝🏽 I wanted to make this one big story but I said … that’s going to take too long to finish hehe. i hope you guys liked this.

#hyunjin imagines #kpop black reader #kpop x black reader #hyunjin imagine #hyunjin angst #hyunjin smut #hyunjin fluff #stray kids #hyunjin #stray kids x black reader #kpop x poc #kpop x poc reader #skz hyunjin #skz imagines #skz smut #skz angst #skz scenarios #stray kids imagines

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ghostgirl-22 · 20 days ago

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My Darling What Did You Expect

18+ !NSFW! Explicit

Day 18: Lactation

—————————————————

Tashi is so relieved to go out again and Arts not getting in the way of that. She’s been pregnant for 9 months and she gifted him this beautiful baby girl. And So when she says she wants to go out with her girlfriends from Stanford and forget about any and all responsibilities he doesn’t even blink. Lily is a two months old now and he’s getting used to her. Lily’s getting used to everything too. She’s even slept through the night a few times, though she does wake up at 4 in the morning.

He spends the evening laying on the sofa and Lily takes turns lying in the pack and play and when she gets fussy, resting against his chest while he feeds her warmed up breast milk from the freezer. There’s plenty. The doctor told Tashi she has an oversupply. She pumps all the time and even donates some of it. Art won’t lie and pretend he doesn’t find it kinda hot. He knows it’s food for his daughter, but he loves to see and feel how Tashi’s boobs are right now.

If he’s being honest it’s a relatively easy night for his first evening alone. He goes to bed when Lily does, he knows to do that now. He’s fast asleep when he hears Tashi get home. She drunkenly prepares for bed, Art watches her amused as she fidgets with the flashlight on her phone trying to avoid waking him with the over head light. If she turned it on she’d see he was already awake.

She climbs in bed and falls asleep not too long later and he follows her back into sleep but wakes again not too long later. Once to feed Lily, the second time it’s early morning and he can hear Tashi moaning in pain.

He sits up quickly, “are you okay? What’s wrong?”

She’s grabbing at her chest. “Nothing… go back to sleep. I just need to pump and dump, I’m so… full,” she groans. “I knew I should’ve done it last night but I was so fucking drunk.” She sighs, squeezing at her nipple. He watches as some of the milk expresses staining her white t-shirt so it’s see through.

Art isn’t exactly rational about any of what happens next. He knows she’s in pain, that it’s food for his daughter, that they’ve only had sex once since she was cleared to do it again… not because they don’t want to but because they’ve been so tired.

He grabs at one of her breasts, rubbing, squeezing. She closes her eyes as he watches milk spill, expanding the stain on her t-shirt.

“Mm, can you do this one,” she sighs, expressing it from her other boob herself before he grabs it. Art, rubs them both, squeezing out milk as she sighs with relief. They’re so perky and so swollen and so full. The milk is spilling all over. He’s so hard it’s ridiculous.

He lifts up the t-shirt which is starting to drip with it. She lets him take it off and she’s just in her panties. His sister hates her because she doesn’t at all look like someone who had a baby two months ago and he has to agree. If he hadn’t seen it he wouldn’t believe she just gave birth outside of the swell of her breasts.

He takes her nipple into his mouth, sucking on her and his mouth fills with sweet, warm liquid. He’s tasted it before but never like this. From the source. He knows he’s perverted but he’s swallowing it down and he likes it. Tashi is moaning as he does it. He wonders if she likes it too. He gets his answer when she moves to straddle him putting her second boob to his lips so he can do the same thing again.

“Feels so much fucking better,” she sighs as he drinks.

He grabs her waist licking and teasing while swallowing. She’s rubbing his cock through his briefs and before he knows it they’re having sex. She’s on top and he’s still sucking and squeezing. Her milk is all over his bare chest and hers and it’s dripping down his mouth. And he’s coming, he’s coming inside and she’s letting him. And they both know she’s not taking anything to prevent pregnancy. Part of him is horny at the idea of just getting her pregnant again. She’s so sexy when she’s swelling with his seed. He thinks he’s gonna need to come again and then Lily starts fussing on the monitor. Tashi’s breathing heavy, her boobs rise and fall, he can’t help squeezing them again as she moves to let him slip out.

“Mm, you’re such a freak,” she grins. She runs her fingers through his hair.

“I was just trying to help,” he says defensively.

“Oh I’m sure,” she laughs.

Art smirks sheepishly.

“Can you feed her? I have to shower.”

“Yeah,” he says. He uses his towel to clean up a bit before putting on a t-shirt and shorts and going to warm a bottle for Lily. He smiles to himself, at least now he understands what all the fuss is about.

#challengers #challengers 2024 #art donaldson #challengers fic #challengerstober #kinktober #challengers smut #tashi duncan #tashi x art #lactating kink

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neptuneiris · 1 year ago

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brooklyn baby (02/?)

we can go back to New York

pairing: rockstar!aemond × fem!reader

summary: you finally see the sexy guitarist again and after going through a disappointing time, things get interesting at a party where the whole band has been invited by Baela.

word count: 8.2k

previous part • next part • series masterlist

hi besties! here's the second chapter i'm so excited for you to read:) can't wait to read your comments, thanks for the amazing reception to the story, i love you guys! enjoy!

warnings: alcohol, smoking, kissing.

If there's anyone who hates the period a lot, it's you.

In desperate times many girls are relieved when it finally happens to them, fortunately you've never had a scare. But you feel completely sick and can't do anything when those days come every month.

Being irregular, you don't know exactly when it will happen, you've tried calculating, assuming and so on, you've even installed period apps, but nothing works. However, you should have known it was coming since you felt slight cramps this morning and since you started getting pimples two days ago.

But with so much to do from college, you didn't have time to prepare. And also a certain guitarist from a certain band wouldn't leave your thoughts alone sometimes.

Since that kiss almost happened, the next morning you were stalking him on Instagram, which is the only social media he has, compared to the remaining members who have Instagram, Twitter and TikTok.

But he's not even active.

The photos he has are only of the band promoting the tour, albums and songs, or also photos of some cities he has visited. He only has two posts with his brothers and cousins, where they are more like random photos before concerts. He has very few pictures of him and you can't even see his face since he doesn't see the camera, in all of them he plays the guitar and nothing else.

There is nothing about his day to day life really, just music. Also you notice that he posts photos every few months, although lately he has been posting more consistently due to the concerts, but it's all about the band.

You go into Aegon's account, trying to find Aemond in his pictures where he's not doing anything related to his guitar, but there's nothing of him if it's not that way. You see how Aegon takes funny pictures and uploads videos with his brother and cousins where they laugh and make jokes, but none of it shows him.

The same on Jace, Luke and Daeron's account, there's nothing from Aemond if it's not band related.

Instantly this catches your attention more, guessing that he most likely doesn't really like social media and keeps himself as private as possible, seeming so different to you, so mysterious and appealing in a ridiculous way simply because of that.

And yet he has many followers, which is understandable, it is obvious why in addition to his music, when he follows at most three hundred accounts, all of them music accounts, he also follows his siblings, his cousins and other people who must belong to his team.

You let out a groan and finally leave Aemond's account in peace, sinking your face into your pillow, feeling the cramps stronger than before, so you try to calm down and seek to feel more comfortable so you can let the pills take effect.

And even when the cramps are less, you still don't feel energetic or up for anything, entertaining yourself on your phone or watching TV, not wanting to leave the warmth of your bed because you really feel terrible.

So when you least expect it, you fall asleep. When suddenly, someone's scream wakes you up.

"Y/N!"

You raise your gaze instantly, startled, as you see frightened and confused Rhaena at the door of your room, entering, watching you in horror.

"W-what... what are you doing here?" you stare at her between irritated and confused now, still sleepy.

"What are you doing like that?" she asks you incredulously and on the verge of collapse to then watch as she looks down the hallway, "Baela, hurry up! She looks awful!"

You watch her seriously.

"Wow, thanks."

"What? What happe-oh shit," Baela also appears, watching you instantly in horror and shock, "W-what... what are you doing?" she looks at you blankly.

"What are you guys doing?" you ask back, irritated, "How did you get in?"

"It can't be, have you forgotten?" Rhaena looks at you incredulously, "Tonight is the concert of your sexy guitarist."

"Yes," says Baela, "Tonight," she repeats terribly serious, "Now can you explain why you're not ready? We have to go now."

"I'm not going," you say grumpily, laying your head back down on your pillow lazily.

"What do you mean you won't going? Are you crazy?"

"You better be kidding me."

"You guys... I'm having a horrible headache right now and I feel like if I get up now I'm going to throw up, not to mention that every breath I take I feel more blood coming out, so could you please leave my room quietly and let me continue sleeping in peace?"

The room falls silent for a moment.

"Oh no, don't tell me that," you hear Rhaena say disappointedly.

And then you listen as Baela complains, also disappointed.

"And you feel very bad?"

"Very," you answer her without hesitation.

"It's your first day?"

"Yes and I feel like shit."

"But Y/N... you can't miss it," Rhaena says worriedly.

"The sexy guitarist gave you the free tickets to see you again," Baela insists too, "I understand you're sick but wouldn't it be rude if you didn't go?"

You let out a huge groan against your pillow and then look at them with a pained expression.

"You think I haven't thought about it too? Of course I have," you let them know sadly, "I'm just as upset as you are, but what am I supposed to do? Everything hurts, I feel awful and besides you want me to let him see me like this with all my greasy, zitty face?"

Baela and Rhaena exchange a look.

"She's right," Rhaena tells her with a look of pity.

And again they both focus on you.

"Okay, we get it," Baela says resignedly, "So is there anything you want to send the sexy guitarist to say?"

"No," you tell her instantly, confused, "I already feel bad enough about not going. I don't want to be so cynical as to tell him I couldn't go but still thank him for the tickets."

And without saying anything else, your cousins don't insist but they are still disappointed since they will have to go to the concert without you.

You really wanted to go, you wanted to see him again and you wanted to spend time with him again like last time, to get to know him a little more and maybe... just maybe, to find out what else could happen between the two of you.

But now, once your cousins leave, you can only go back to trying to sleep, wanting to forget about the world for a while and not think about him or the concert that will happen in another hour that you couldn't attend.

So the hours pass, the sun in New York begins to set and the nightlife in the city begins, which is what characterizes it so much. And yet by the time severe hours have passed, you are still asleep, very tired and your period is not helping you to have any energy, submerged in a deep sleep.

When around two o'clock in the morning, you are again awakened and your peace of mind is interrupted by feeling absolutely nothing. And those responsible? Your cousins again, of course.

"What?" you say completely sleepy, closing your eyes tightly as the light hits you directly when are turned on.

"Wake up, you have to hear this!" squeals Rhaena excitedly, followed by Baela, both invading your bed, each lying on your sides, while you grunt and groan, sinking your face back into your pillow.

"Leave me alone," you plead weakly.

"Stop sleeping already," Rhaena shakes you, "I bet you've slept all day!"

"As I should."

"Y/N, seriously, you must know this," Baela insists as well.

"What? What thing? Talk now so you can leave me alone," you say irritably, still with your eyes closed.

"How mean you are," Rhaena says with a pout

"Let her, she's on her period, it's understandable."

"Then tell her!"

"The sexy guitarist asked us about you."

And that's more than enough for sleep to leave your system and you open your eyes, so you instantly turn to watch your cousins carefully, brushing your hair out of your face and looking completely surprised and now very interested.

"What?" you inquire, watching them intently.

"Yes!" squeals Rhaena excitedly, nodding, "And Baela made out with Jace," she adds innocently.

You open your eyes wide.

"What!?"

"It just happened," Baela shrugs, with a look of superiority, amused, "It was amazing, by the way. We exchanged numbers, too."

"And Aemond?" you ask more than attentively.

"Well, we were talking to Jace and Luke already by the time the after party was over. We were at the bar when Aegon joined us and he was coming with Aemond, so..." Rhaena laughs excitedly, "Jace and Luke were called I think by their manager, so we stayed with the two of them."

"He didn't talk at all, he was just ordering drinks," Baela clarifies.

"Yes and... when Aegon also ordered a drink, he did talk to us, but to ask us about you."

"He asked us where you were and we told him you couldn't come because you were sick."

"And he just nodded and continued drinking," Rhaena finished.

You avert your gaze from both of them for a moment, focusing on your TV, and then dropping your head back onto your pillow, your gaze resigned, so you let out a long sigh and go back to blaming your period for not being able to go tonight.

"But he looked disappointed, we know," Baela assures you with a small smile, "I even felt bad for him."

"Are you sure?" you ask her not really convinced about that.

"Yes, very. If he wanted to hide it, it didn't come out."

You let out a long breath again, bringing your hands to your face, wanting to let go of the frustration somehow, but you can't.

"Oh Y/N, come on, cheer up," Rhaena tells you without wiping off her smile.

"Yes, this is not the end," Baela adds.

"It's not the end?" you repeat confused, "This was literally my last chance to see him again and I couldn't go."

"Stop it, drama queen," Baela says to you again amused, "You've already forgotten Jace?"

"What about him?"

"That he and I are in contact now, silly."

"So?"

"God, I can't handle her," you hear her say to Rhaena.

"Just tell her. That way we'll make her feel better."

"Yeah, just tell me so i can keep sleeping," you tell her too.

You listen as she lets out a long breath.

"The band will be taking a short break. Their last concert will be next Saturday here in Manhattan and Jace has invited us."

She finally tells you and even though you don't show it, you feel interested to hear such news.

"So now you get to see your sexy guitarist," Rhaena tells you with a mischievous tone.

After an exhaustive search through your closet, making combinations with a lot of shirts, skirts, pants and shoes, you finally put together your perfect outfit.

Thank God your period is over and another horrible week of stress, frustration, worry and this time pain is over, until it's finally time to have a good time. And since you're going to the concert, you decide to choose your all black outfit.

You choose a black skirt, a black sleeveless shirt that exposes part of your stomach, black high boots and a black blazer on top. The only colored thing you bring with you is your small white hanging bag. (click)

Your make-up is not too much, but it is elaborate, because you really want to look good. So at the end you apply a matte red lipstick and style your hair in light waves, leaving it completely loose.

You choose silver jewelry and in the end you love the result, seeing yourself with a little smile in your full-length mirror, happy and excited. Then you head to Baela's apartment, which is actually in the same building and in the same hallway as yours.

You both go to NYU, only she studies fashion and you study business management. You always wanted to live alone, you love your privacy and having a place to yourself, so you got your apartment with the help of your parents and Baela joined you shortly after, although it's really like you both live together.

Rhaena just started college months ago and lives with her roomie, Sara, in the dorms provided by the university.

"Wow."

That's the first thing Baela says to you when she opens the door to her apartment and looks as ready as you do.

"Yeah, wow to you too," you tell her laughing.

"Oh my god-you look so hot," Rhaena says to you, appearing behind Baela.

"Thanks, you too, both," you assure them, "So are we leaving or what?"

"In a moment, I'm waiting for Jason to answer my messages," Baela tells you with her phone in her hand.

"Jason?"

"Lannister."

"Jason Lannister?" you repeat confused, "Your friend the rich guy who lives in that huge, fancy apartment in Upper East Side?"

"That same one. He's having an party tonight and I asked him if I could bring the band after the concert is over. The after party will only last an hour and Jace had said that after that they wanted to go out and celebrate."

"Oh," you nod, "Well, that sounds great," you say, as inevitably a wave of excitement washes over you.

"Oh-he has replied!" she says excitedly, her gaze fixed on her screen, "And he said yes!"

"Great! Now let's go, I want to see Luke," Rhaena says desperately, ushering you both out of the apartment.

Driving doesn't take as long as last time, as you literally crossed half of Manhattan in order to get to Brooklyn and also half of Brooklyn in order to get to the club where the concert was.

And once you get to the club, finding parking is a bit difficult but you make it and finally Baela hands the three tickets to the security man to let you in. Once inside, you get the feeling that there are more people than there were in Brooklyn, seeing all the girls very excited and rushing into the club to get to the front of the stage.

You see Baela texting with Jace and the three of them make it to the front, in a seemingly exclusive section with a great view of the entire stage where they are allowed in after she shows security her phone screen.

"What did you show them?" you ask confused and curious.

"Some messages from Jace," she says with a certain superiority, making you laugh and shake your head at the same time.

Rhaena insists that the three of you take selfies and so you do, killing time as the concert begins. The minutes go by, the place slowly starts to fill up, security brings order, everything is ready on stage and after the lights are turned off for a moment, calling everyone's attention, the concert finally starts.

The first to come out is Aegon, clearly, greeting the whole audience and the other guys follow him, causing the excited and euphoric screams of all the girls.

Instantly your gaze focuses on him, on Aemond, making you smile a little as you watch him focus totally on the music, not even looking much towards the audience, taking a seat at one of the speakers, completely focused on his guitar. And again you become totally absorbed in him.

He looks so handsome, like it's not an everyday thing, with his black pants and a plain white t-shirt, making his black electric guitar stand out, while his hair looks as good as ever.

And the way he plays his notes, the way his face concentrates and the way he lights up the occasional cigarette during the concert, he looks completely sexy.

And you are not the only one who notices these details, you see how some girls around you focus the camera of their phones on him, you also hear how some of them scream his name or go crazy in his solos, all wanting to get his attention.

But then again… Aemond doesn't react much with his audience and only gives head gestures, that being enough for him and stay focused on the music. This especially catches your attention a lot, as his behavior is totally different from Aegon or Daeron.

In fact you were hoping that he will manage to see you in the whole audience, as Jace and Baela although they are not far away but not too close either, both still exchange glances and he especially focuses a lot on your cousin most of the time.

Then comes another solo from Aemond, looking extremely sexy in the way he focuses on hitting his notes perfectly, filling the place with more screams. And you watch in admiration, because even if you wanted to, you couldn't play guitar like that.

You see how there is a man with a camera taking pictures of everyone and him especially at that moment on stage, probably being the band's photographer. There are lots of lighting effects, the whole club looks great and they all put on an amazing show, since it's the last one.

You sing and dance along with your cousins, really enjoying the moment, since even though you were suffering all the week before because of your period, you still started listening to their songs and learned them.

You take more videos together, you also take several videos of everything and you may have focused on recording him a little bit more sometimes, unable to help it.

When it's time to finish.

Aegon again takes charge of dismissing the whole band, causing screams and applause from the whole audience towards them, all the girls screaming and throwing bracelets and necklaces on stage. The five of them say goodbye at the same time, Aemond again without showing much emotion and it's all over.

The after party takes place right there, as the club has its own separate pub-like bar section, so the girls with tickets to meet the band are guided, among them you too with your cousins, by security guards to a huge door that will take them there directly.

Upon entering the pub, everything is empty except for the bartender and more security people. The bar is also free and all the girls start getting ready with their t-shirts, caps and posters more than ready.

"I'll meet Jace before he comes out. I'll be right back," Baela says to Rhaena and you, visibly excited.

It's not as if she can be stopped, as she quickly heads down a hallway where you assume must be those break rooms where everyone in the band keeps their stuff while they tend to the fans and where they must all be now.

"Do you think Baela will take him to his apartment when Jason's party is over?" asks you Rhaena with a knowing look.

"Don't even doubt it," you assure her.

Then finally the band starts to come out, causing the screams of all the excited girls, quickly wanting to head towards them, but security instantly starts to bring order, controlling everything and asking all the girls to line up and wait their turn without scandal.

You don't move from where you are, but watch everything carefully, wanting to find Aemond. But it's just like last time… everyone shows up but him.

"Done," Baela suddenly appears with a small smile, "Jace sends his greetings."

"Wow sis, you didn't even sweat," Rhaena tells her amused and you let out a loud laugh which makes Baela look at her serious.

"Very funny."

"And what else did he tell you? Everyone is going to Jason's party?" you ask her interested.

"Everyone or Aemond?"

"Aemond," you answer reluctantly.

"Yes, everyone is going."

"And where is he?" asks Rhaena confused, watching the guys with all the fans, "They are all except him."

"I don't know, he was in that room with everyone, he looked… serious and bored."

"He's hiding, like last time," you say, "Eventually he'll have to come out."

"And you're going to talk to him?" says Rhaena excitedly to you.

"I think so," you nod to her.

"She's going to talk to him," Baela says in affirmative mode, serious and threatening.

Then Rhaena is the one who wants to approach Luke, so she asks you to go with her, while Baela takes the opportunity to order something from the bar, so when you start to wait in line, the wait is long.

Rhaena suddenly starts talking to some girls who are behind you both, also waiting, so you entertain yourself on your phone, killing a little more time, although from time to time you participate in Rhaena's conversation with those girls about the band, their favorite songs and so on.

When you briefly inspect the pub, you notice a platinum-haired person starting to join in, catching your attention. You step aside, as Rhaena obstructs your view a bit, and then finally there he is.

As soon as he leaves the hallway, a bunch of girls rush towards him, all smiling and excited, clearly happy to finally see him, to which the security guys instantly bring order and he starts signing and taking pictures with them.

You watch everything with a small smile, inevitably starting to feel nervous and you don't understand why, since he hasn't even seen you and doesn't even know you are here, but his presence in the same place as you already makes you feel that way.

At that moment your mind starts to plan what exactly you will do to get closer to him, telling yourself that you can choose a poster this time and have him sign it for you, but just thinking about it and such a simple action already makes you terribly nervous.

You think that Rhaena or Baela might come with you, but you don't even have the slightest idea how to start the conversation or what exactly to talk to him about, fearing that your nerves will betray you and you'll act like a fool.

So you also think you might as well do nothing and wait for a miracle to happen and he will notice you.

You let out a long breath, since of course you can't decide to do nothing if the man gave you free tickets and you didn't go to the concert, so this is the least you can do, however, you feel very nervous and you also start to get frustrated.

"There's finally your sexy guitarist," Rhaena says to you suddenly, excited, looking in the same direction as you, "Are you going to go to him?"

"Later, I'm just feeling nervous," you confess to her.

"Relax. When he sees you, he'll probably feel as nervous as you do, too, so you won't be the only one."

You frown.

Aemond nervous? You don't think he's nervous at all.

You can't focus on him anymore because the line starts to move faster, so now you focus on helping Rhaena with the pictures and also to want to see her shyly flirting with Luke, who is also shyly flirting with her.

Rhaena and Luke's moment unfortunately passes quickly, but he still tells her that he will see her at the party, in a whisper obviously, and then the following girls come by to meet him and talk to him.

Then again you focus on Aemond, but you are surprised to see that he is no longer with all the fans around him, he has simply disappeared.

Confused, you start looking around, not understanding where he has gone, bewildered, as it was only a brief moment when he was attending to fans and he should stay longer or not? When you are directing your gaze in all directions, you finally focus on that hallway where he had come out before, finding him.

However, what you see is definitely not what you expected.

You see how he heads to the men's restroom, which is normal, but what catches your attention is how a girl or rather a fan goes after him, not hesitating to follow him. And then they enter the restroom together, as he closes the door behind him.

And it's clear what they both went to do, you're not stupid.

You continue to stand there for a few more moments, staring at the closed door, feeling slightly surprised as you really didn't expect to see him like this and you also begin to feel disappointed.

Unable to help it, sadness and anger come over you, as you also feel discouraged now.

With a sad and disappointed look, also a bit serious, you avert your gaze to head towards the bar, all the while biting the inside of your cheek and trying not to let your emotions show too much on your face, but you cannot.

As you take a seat on the stool, you watch as your cousins are with Aegon, so when you inevitably start to think more about it, disappointment washes over you as well along with everything else you're feeling.

You had expectations of him, but you never expected him to be that kind of guy, that's why you feel so disappointed and you can't help it, not even having the energy to be here anymore.

That's why he offered to give me his merch inside that room in Brooklyn.

You think, since that's why you feel angry, not because you saw him with another girl, but because he wanted the two of them to be alone that one nigh and it happened, the two of them kissed, but what would have happened if Aegon hadn't interrupted you? Probably you two would have fucked, as was his purpose.

You start to feel really bad about that and get frustrated with yourself, because even this you should have expected, yet you didn't even though it was too obvious.

He is absolutely handsome and plays in a band, so he meets a lot of girls almost every day and every single one of them he has at his feet, so… who would be fool enough to say no to him? No one.

You were just going to be another one of the crowd.

You say to yourself, really sad, disappointed and upset.

You want to get out of here but you continue to wait for your cousins at the bar, order a drink just to kill time and try not to think about him, knowing perfectly well that you must have a very cold face.

You let out a long breath, continuing to wait, wait and wait, until Baela and Rhaena appear.

"Hey, did you talk to the sexy guitarist?" asks Baela, excited and interested.

"Yes," you lie, trying to put on your best possible face.

"And what happened?" asks you now Rhaena, also excited.

"I'll tell you later."

Luckily they don't insist and Baela again turns to Jace, so Rhaena stays with you, showing you the photos and videos she took of the concert, also the ones from a few moments ago with Luke, asking her which one is the best to post on her Instagram stories.

You're with her for a while, when you raise your gaze to observe the whole pub for a second, although you unconsciously look towards that hallway as well, when then your breath is cut short and you see how Aemond comes out of there to join the inside of the pub again, with Aegon by his side.

You must have averted your gaze the second you saw him come out, for suddenly Aemond casually glances over to where you are, both of your gazes crossing at that moment.

You don't manage to read his gaze, as again nerves and disappointment wash over you, so you instantly avert your eyes from him and focus back on Rhaena, trying to not let his gaze on you affect you.

However, you can feel how he continues to watch you, his burning gaze completely on you, but you don't respond to him anymore, in fact you feel more the need to get out of here now that he has already noticed your presence.

Out of the corner of your eye you watch as he attends to more fans, while at the same time talking to Aegon, who also attends to fans, but every now and then… you feel his gaze on you again, one that was screaming for you to watch him as well, but you didn't.

"The girls are already leaving."

Rhaena tells you, pointing to the doors and watching as the guards ask the fans who have already had their moment with each member of the band to leave.

"I'll go talk to Luke, I'll be right back," she tells you, starting to get up from her stool.

"Actually," you get up too, stopping her, "I'll go ahead to the party. You and Baela are going with Jace and Luke right?"

She frowns.

"Yes, but…

"Great. I'll see you guys over there then, you tell Baela please."

You start to walk past her, heading towards the doors.

"Wait, Y/N," Rhaena stops you, grabbing your arm, "Are you okay? What happened?" she asks you softly, confused, "I thought you wanted to be near Aemond, did something happen with him?"

You bite your lips, hesitant, as you really don't want to lie to your cousin, but you also don't want to tell her and look so dramatic about it, as it has nothing to do with you but you still feel disappointed and like a fool.

"Yes," you finally tell her, in a whisper "But I'll tell you later."

"You promise?" she looks at you, not entirely convinced.

"I promise," you assure her, "I'll see you there."

She has no choice but to let you go, telling you to call her in case of anything, so you nod and are finally able to walk away, starting to walk out of there with your car keys in hand, not letting go of that burning stare on you until you leave the pub.

At first you thought about deciding not to go to the party, sounding like a good plan for you, however, you were well aware that Baela would kill you and probably never forgive you if you decided such a thing, so now you are here, in Jason Lannister's luxurious apartment and with a bunch of other college students enjoying the party.

As you walk in, you greet a few people you know and also Jason, who asks you about Baela, Rhaena and those guys in that band she told him she was bringing.

You catch up with him, telling him they shouldn't be long and then you notice how all the people here are Baela's friends and also studying fashion, except Jason is studying law, so there are more people from that faculty as well.

You decide to help set up the beer pong tables, just to entertain yourself and start enjoying the party, while you talk to Jason and his friends, when not too long after, a half hour maybe, your cousins with them finally arrive.

You watch them almost from the other side of the huge apartment, watching as Baela greets her friends and introduces the band, where Aegon, Daeron and Jace look more than ready to start enjoying themselves, while Luke stays more calm and relaxed with Rhaena.

And even though you didn't want to, you still inevitably focus on him.

He closes the door behind him with a completely relaxed and unconcerned expression and posture, to your bad luck already having a cigarette on his lips, as he watches the whole party around him, now wearing a different black t-shirt.

And of course, his arrival starts to draw the attention of all the girls at the party and not only on him, on all of them, seeing them with a few small smiles and more than interested.

You avert your gaze, deciding not to make a big deal out of it, continuing to place the plastic cups on the table, though really, it's only a matter of time before Baela finds you, bringing them all with her.

With Jason at your side, she introduces them to him and he starts talking to them, while you continue to set everything up, deliberately ignoring his burning gaze when he sees you, not letting it get to you.

And after that it's only a matter of time before the real party starts.

People start dancing and your cousins along with all of them take a seat on some couches, starting to drink, so it's only a matter of time before Aegon gets up and now he's in a corner making out with a girl mercilessly, just like Jace and Baela, this surprising you but you're very excited for her.

Rhaena and Luke are also in a corner close together, but they're both talking, both with shy but willing little smiles, so you're sure that by the end of the night, something will have happened between them.

And at the end, Daeron and Aemond are still sitting on the couches, both drinking, with one girl already talking to Daeron, both very flirtatious, but you don't approach him.

Wherever you move in the apartment, you feel his gaze on you, always. However, you drink and enjoy yourself, although you don't go over one beer either, since you have to drive. But you admit that his gaze on you makes you very nervous and as much as you don't want to give it any importance, you can't.

Until one moment when you are talking to Jason, just for once you decide to return his gaze, and that's what happens, you look at him and he is already watching you so intensely and with a look between serious and curious.

But the moment doesn't last long, because just when you both exchange glances for two seconds, suddenly a girl appears and takes a seat next to him, starting to talk to him, her intentions clear, so he looks away from you to her.

You look away, finishing what's left of your bottle of beer with just one gulp, then you leave the empty bottle on the kitchen island and decide to go out to the balcony for some fresh air, as the place is getting more and more crowded and it's starting to feel suffocating.

Once outside, you enjoy a bit of the quiet, even though you can still hear some music although this doesn't bother you, as you observe the view offered by some New York skyscrapers around you, looking beautiful and eye-catching.

You don't know how long you last there, but you enjoy it, wanting to take another moment before going back to the party. When suddenly… you must have expected that the moment of the night would come for you and Aemond.

The doors open letting in more music and you turn around, this getting your attention, when again nerves and shame come over you, seeing that it's Aemond. But he is not alone… he enters the balcony along with Aegon, who laughs along with…. Cregan?

"Man, all this stuff I missed if I had gone to college," Aegon says, smiling.

Cregan laughs, giving him a friendly tap on his shoulder.

"Oh dude, you don't know what you're talking about."

When then both of their gazes focus on you, to which you wave your hand and smile a bit apologetically, but not for them, but for him, who continues to stare at you like that.

"Y/N?" inquires Cregan, approaching you, watching you incredulously.

"Hi," you smile at him.

"My godness, I haven't seen you in ages!" he exclaims happily, then locks you in a tight hug.

"Please, it's only been months," you tell him amused, reciprocating his hug.

"It's been years for me," he tells you melancholy, pulling away.

And you both laugh.

"So you know Baela's cousin," Aegon says without wiping away his smile, stepping closer, watching you and Cregan continuously.

"Yes," Cregan says, "You know them?" he asks you, pointing at him and Aemond, who stands apart.

"Baela and Rhaena are hanging out with their cousins," you tell him, nodding.

"Oh yes, the drummer and the bass player."

And you nod.

"And how do you two know each other?" asks Aegon, interested.

"We were classmates in business management," Cregan explains to him, "But I decided to change careers to law."

"At NYU?"

You both nod, as does he, now understanding, while Aemond still continues to stand apart, but at no point do you fail to feel his gaze on you, making you still very nervous but distracting with Cregan at your side.

"I didn't know the three of you knew each other," you decide to say, confused and slightly interested.

"Oh, we didn't know each other," Aegon says.

"We only just met a few moments ago when we played beer pong together," Cregan tells you with a small smile.

And you don't say anything else, that being so random, since the two of them barely met and apparently are now best friends, Cregan and Aegon more than anything, since Aemond continues to be just as serious.

"Anyway, have you seen Alysanne?" asks you Cregan, interested and hopeful.

"Yes, a while ago," you nod to him.

"Great. I'm going to go look for her, I haven't seen her in years either."

"Good luck," you smile at him.

"I'm coming with you," Aegon says instantly following suit, "Maybe your girl has a hot friend she can introduce me to."

Cregan laughs and just as they arrived together laughing and as best friends, they leave, only now you're left alone... with Aemond.

So there it is again… that tense air, but not a bad one somehow, as the both of you are left alone and there is an appropriate distance between the two, but again, you can't help but feel terribly nervous.

And even though you don't want to, still that moment of him going into the restroom with that girl keeps replaying in your mind, unable to help it. And that's why you look everywhere but at him, trying to distract yourself with the view.

Then he starts smoking, both of you without saying a word, just listening to the music and the sound of the city around you, which makes you feel a little uneasy, since you can't just leave like that, it would be too rude.

And again… that almost kiss invades your mind and doesn't leave you in peace, while you bite your lips and try to control your nerves, not having the slightest idea of what to do or what to say.

The slight smell of cigarette reaches your nostrils and you try to act as nothing, just like him, whom you see out of the corner of your eye and apparently, compared to you, he is comfortable and unconcerned.

Until he speaks.

"Are you always this quiet?"

He asks you and you bite your lips again, this making you feel more nervous, as you feel him watching you, but you don't look back at him.

"No," you reply, trying to act just as unconcerned as he does, "I'm just… relaxing."

"Hm," he says and you watch just for a second as he takes a drag on his cigarette, " You don't like parties?"

"Yes, I do," you reply softly.

And there you finally dare to look him in the eye, but you regret it the second you do, as he is already watching you and in that way, again as if he wants to see right through you, so burning and intense. So you steel yourself and continue firm, not letting him weaken you.

"I actually thought you didn't like parties," you decide to say, just to create a topic of conversation.

"I don't like them," he says and exhales smoke through his lips, looking away from you for a moment, "But I wanted to come," he says to return to watching you with such intensity.

And God, all you can think about is how ridiculously handsome he looks tonight, from his clothes, his face, his posture, the way he's looking at you, even the way he's smoking, basically everything about him.

There is a brief silence between the two of you, not uncomfortable fortunately, when suddenly he says to you:

"You didn't go to the concert."

Shit.

And there it is again, the nerves, which makes you look away from him for a moment and bite your lips.

"Yeah, I know, I'm sorry," you tell him softly, "I got sick."

"Yeah," he nods, "Your cousins said something like that. But don't apologize, it's fine."

"But I wanted to go," you clarify.

He places a small grin on his face, watching you intently.

"Did you?"

And you nod.

"At this concert you didn't even stay until the end."

Fuck.

You curse, thinking fast, again with that moment of him and that girl going into the restroom replaying in your mind, which was the reason you decided to leave early and why you decided to ignore him.

But ignoring him didn't work for you anymore since now you're here with him… alone.

"Of course I did, I saw the whole concert," you play dumb.

"I mean the after party."

He tells you softly and you again avert your gaze, terribly nervous, having no idea what to say to him now, since you can't tell him you left because you saw him that way with one of his fans. So instead, you lie, making an excuse about the party.

"I had to come here earlier to help set everything up," you explain, looking at him again, trying to sound convincing.

At this, he lets out a long breath, averting his gaze, bringing his cigarette to his lips.

"What a shame," he says in a sigh, then takes a drag.

This catches your attention, but you say nothing more, only until after you think clearly about what you are going to say before you speak.

"Baela said you're not giving any concerts until about a month," you say and he looks at you again.

"Yes, that's true," he says and you watch as he casually slides further towards you, beginning to close the distance between you, "But you could still come."

You frown.

"To where?"

"To rehearsals and then to the concerts."

At this you say nothing, you just continue to watch him, beginning to have a dilemma in mind about it and also beginning to be affected by how he is gradually moving closer to you, doing it so casually and so calculatingly, without stopping smoking, that you hate that he is already starting to make you feel that way.

You don't want to be another one of the crowd, remember?

Your serious mind tells you, since that's why you were crying before and why you decided to avoid him and get to this party earlier.

But God, you think, since he, everything about him, affects you and so much, so much so that you can't even avoid him anymore, starting little by little to let yourself be carried away by him.

And well says Baela that the flesh is weak.

You think grumpily.

"Or what? You really don't want to see me anymore?"

He asks you with that grin, weakening you more completely and making you more nervous, averting your gaze from him for a moment, really not being able to because of the way he's looking at you and making you react.

"N-no, I mean, yeah," you reply foolishly, "Yeah, okay," you look at him, "I'll go."

Then a small satisfied smile appears on his lips.

"Very well, but if you don't go…"

He begins to say, leaving his sentence in suspense and completely stealing your breath when he finally shortens the remaining distance between the two of you, at the same time as he tosses his now non-existent cigarette away, watching you attentively and determinedly.

You tense up completely and watch him completely attentive and nervous, unable to move, your legs and mind not reacting at all at that moment, starting to feel your heart beating too fast.

"If I don't go what?"

You can formulate in the midst of your nervousness in a mumble, as a distraction, as you inevitably look between his face and his lips with your lips parted.

"If you don't go like last time I'm going to be very angry and very disappointed."

You watch him in complete surprise, just at that instant also realizing how incredibly close the two of you are, the two of you completely invading each other's personal space, his entire presence and essence enveloping you completely.

And then this whole scene, it's just like when you both were about to kiss like last time, close to each other and with that tense air. When Aemond says something to you that steals your breath away.

"It was very rude to leave me waiting, you know that?" he says to you in a hoarse voice, his whole gaze determined and his eye dilated, full of desire.

"Did you really want to see me?" you ask him in a whisper.

"What do you think?"

Again your breath catches, as you focus entirely on him, watching or rather admiring the closeness of his face to yours, not being able to help it anymore, not wanting to pull away and wanting more of him.

Then you know there is no turning back when he raises his hand and places it on your cheek gently, caressing your skin with his thumb, continuing to watch you with that attention and with that desire at the same time that he sticks your chest with his, pulling you to him.

Again you watch his lips, completely absorbed in him, feeling your heart still beating too fast and completely enjoying this moment.

"If I don't see you again Y/N…"

He says again, not letting you go, with that direct, firm and challenging tone from before, but leaves his sentence in suspense again.

"What?" you ask him, wanting to know what's going to happen if he doesn't see you again.

But he doesn't say anything more to you, on the contrary, he starts leaning towards you, making you feel like your heart will jump out of your chest at any moment, when his other hand places it on your waist and the atmosphere changes completely.

And then you close your eyes, letting yourself be completely carried away and finally… you feel his lips touch yours.

And as soon as you feel the contact, you are enveloped by a sensation you haven't felt for a long time and you lift your face a little more towards him, pressing your lips more firmly with his.

A slow but completely purposeful and deep kiss begins, as he moves closer towards you, clinging and you let him, beginning to move your lips more constantly, as does he, as you bring your hands up and place them on his chest.

The kiss is perfect and with exact timing, as you feel him cling to you completely, not wanting to let you go, feeling him pull away an inch to take another angle and kiss you again, as you grab his shirt in a fist and pull him closer to you if possible.

You feel perfectly as he gently bites your upper lip in a way you haven't experienced before but firmly enough to make you gasp into his mouth and he takes the opportunity to enter your mouth, making you gasp in the middle of the kiss and bring one of your hands up to his hair, caressing it.

Now it's a fight, as you feel and hear the sound of saliva every time you move your mouths, being a wet kiss in which neither he nor you want it to end.

Everything about him is completely addictive, he is definitely an excellent kisser and you don't want him to stop, ever, enjoying the faint taste of cigarette and mint in his mouth.

"You're so beautiful, did you know that?"

He pulls away to tell you in a husky murmur, instantly attacking your lips again, never stopping caressing your cheek, at the same time he starts to pull you back until your back hits a table out here, now being trapped between it and his body.

You smile in the middle of the kiss, continuing to caress his neck and cheeks.

"You are so beautiful too, Aemond."

You manage to say between his lips, to again both resume the kiss, while you feel how he holds your waist tightly, which will probably leave marks on your skin since it's too firm, but you don't care.

Then his caresses start to be taken further, bringing his hand dangerously close to your ass, but you don't mind this either. When he suddenly lifts you up and sits you on the table behind you, making his way between your legs and caressing your thigh with one of his hands.

The mood changes completely, the whole air feeling too hot and with a need starting to appear in your lower abdomen.

Aemond caresses your thigh firmly and gently, which begins to bring waves of arousal to your core, especially as he grinds very gently against you, but pressing his hips right there as you hold him between your legs.

You gasp into his mouth, feeling too good and starting to drive you crazy, not only by his movements but also by the way he continues to kiss you, having you perfectly where he wants you.

You begin to feel his clear arousal against your center, as he grunts and continues to kiss you, bringing both hands to both of your thighs, caressing you and grinding himself more firmly and steadily against you, seeking relief, as you do, beginning to feel everything about you pulsing in an achingly delicious way.

However, the good things can't last forever.

Suddenly the doors to the balcony open again unexpectedly and this catches the attention of both of you, breaking the kiss and the moment instantly, seeing that it is a group of apparently already drunk friends, starting to make room for themselves on the balcony as well.

They notice you both but say nothing, going back to their own thing, to which you turn your focus back to Aemond, looking just as disappointed as he does at the interruption of the moment.

His lips are red and swollen, just as you must also look, so you try to get off the table, but he instantly won't let you, pressing his hips right back down there firmly, causing you to watch him in surprise and in alert.

"This is what I'll do the next time I see you if you don't go to the rehearsals and concerts," he tells you again with that determination and that honesty, his voice completely low and hoarse, not letting you go.

And at first you don't understand what he's talking about, still very overwhelmed and shocked by what happened, but mostly because he keeps pressing his hips right against your center.

But you remember what you were talking about earlier.

"W-what?"

Then that grin reappears, her gaze still full of desire and completely stealing your breath.

"I'll kiss you again without permission."

taglist:

@melsunshine @fan-goddess @toodlesxcuddles @helaenaluvr @tsujifreya @queenofshinigamis @manonmccrory @nockerin @iloveallmyboys @at-a-rax-ia

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x you #aemond fanfiction #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x oc #aemond x reader #hotd aemond

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cannebady · 6 months ago

Text

who are we to fight the alchemy

They've been taking it slow, which Blitz knows is necessary but also feels so fucking stupid considering they've had their tongues inside each other probably hundreds of times over the span of their agreement.

But after a truly spectacular round of competitive communication issues, they've settled on wanting to be something and in order for that to happen, apparently, both Stolas and Blitz have to spend some time with the heads on their shoulders calling the shots.

Based on Stolas's encyclopedic knowledge of all things shitty romance, "It's the proper way of doing things," and while Blitz couldn't give less of a single fuck about proper, he gives a nonzero amount of fucks (one might say a fuckton, in fact) about Stolas, so they've been courting or fucking dating or whatever and definitely not doing any kind of fucking.

It's gotta be at least partially karmic considering how often Blitz complained about fucking the bird. In all honesty he'd loved almost every second of that aside from the feeling like a plaything bullshit and it's fucking fantastic feeling seen and wanted and shit, but also so fucking hard (seriously, very. Fucking. Hard.) to be so close and unable to touch, and lick, and, well. Ugh.

Otherwise, though, it's been kind of nice. They have dinner a few times a week, and Stolas will bring him an iced coffee and lunch at IMP and then Blitz will take him to a shitty bar with M&M. It's fucking nice okay? He's never had nice before and now, suddenly, he gets long conversations about nothing and everything, and holding hands and fuck, okay, he's in love like a little bitch. It's just that Blitz just also kind of wants to fuck, ya know?

He feels a little like a dirtbag because Stolas is holding it together so fucking well. Based on his initial impression (and hands on experience) of Stolas as His Royal Unhinged Horniness, Blitz kind of figured he would've caved a while ago. He won't admit he'd been kind of counting on it; but it's been two months and to his internal horror and shame, it's Blitz who feels fucking feral. They sleep in the same bed, bodies entwined and while it's definitely the best sleep Blitz has ever gotten, it's keying him up and up and up with no release.

Just this morning he'd burned almost an entire loaf of bread trying to make toast because all he could think about was taking his stupid hot boyfriend back to his ridiculous bed to fuck him through his mattress. So there he stood, mortified, erect, and toastless while Stolas hummed and fed his giant toothy plants looking edible and sexy and Oh Satan it was becoming a fucking problem.

The other problem is that Blitz can't solve this the way he wants to. Or, rather, he doesn't want to solve it like that.

He could grab Stolas by the chain holding his starry cape on and stick is tongue down the bird's throat to kick things off, and he probably will do that when his patience runs out, but he's also started to fantasize a bit about a version of their dynamic that casts him with less of an emphasis on Dom and more as the qualifier of Soft.

Fuck.

He wants to do some sappy shit that involves caressing and no toys and maybe also sweet nothings whispered into Stolas's ear until his feathers puff out and his face is a mess of honey blush and desperation. Fizz would call it making love and he's right but also ew. Ugh.

Thinking about that definitely didn't make him less erect, so with a "Mornin' pretty bird," and a squeeze to a feathered thigh (fuck his bird has good thighs) he portals home to shower (because he can do that himself now which is fucking cool), give himself a hand, and then 86 a few human fuckers so he can get back home and remedy his dick problem.

By the time he gets home he's riding high on successful hits, Moxxie's fairly excellent espresso (not that he'll ever tell Moxxie that, he'd be insufferable), and the fire still buzzing in his blood from having someone to fucking waiting for him to come home (and not to kill him, for once).

He forgoes the front door and his shiny newly minted key to, instead, scale the wall to Stolas's bedroom because he wants to put the bird in mind of a sexy, sexy rendezvous and, once over the balustrade, is quickly hit with a wild turning of the tables.

Stolas is laid in the bed, not even his robe on his body for modesty sake, and is desperately trying to rub himself off. The air is humid and smells like sex and home and stuff Blitz was sure he'd never have and even if he hadn't been hard enough to cut glass for weeks, this visage would've done it alone.

Stolas's head is turned away, muffling himself into a pillow and Blitz can hear moans and aborted pleas stifled by cloth until he hears a loud groan that sounds an awful lot like his name.

Oh. Ooohh, fuck Blitz feels crazy. The last vestige of his self control was held by Stolas's own and if his pretty bird is as desperate as he is then who is Blitz to deny him?

He's gifted in stealth for his job and from years of precision movements honed in the circus, so he slowly disrobes to his boxers, only making his presence known when he's right next to the bed.

And fuck the vision is even better up close. Stolas's feathers are a fucking mess, like he's been writhing and edging himself for ages, just waiting for Blitz's hands and tongue and his fucking touch. Like he wants as much as Blitz does.

He clears his throat and four sanguine eyes snap to his, wide and shocked, pupils visible but the heat in them is fucking palpable. He climbs on the bed and leans over Stolas, letting his body touch as much of him as possible, fucking finally.

"Whatcha up to Princess?" he asks, pitching his voice low and rough the way he knows Stolas likes. The moan he gets in reply is like music to his fucking ears and a spark in his veins and there's a blazing inferno before he knows it.

He hums and bites at the feathered neck presented to him before grabbing both of Stolas's wrists and pinning them above the prince's head before speaking directly into his ear, "You lookin' to get split open pretty bird?"

Stolas's whole body shivers and he arches up so beautifully into Blitz that it'd bring tears to his eyes if his entire brain hadn't migrated to his dick and set up camp.

"Please," Stolas whimpers plaintively, legs wrapping around Blitz's hips perfectly, and how could he deny his bird anything?

"You get whatever you want tonight, baby, want you so fucking bad," he murmurs and kisses a flushed, feather cheek before applying himself, rather liberally, to pleasing his love.

#helluva boss fic #Helluva boss #Blitz #blitzo #Stolas #Stolitz #My fic #To be continued #Smut to come

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starlordsandrockets · 2 years ago

Text

The Bet

pairing: college!Peter Parker x Reader: 18+ , fake dating

word count: 9k

summary: You find yourself in attendance of a Gala with Peter Parker as your (fake) date. The two of you end up making a bet: Peter tries to make you fall for him by the end of the night.

a/n: sorry, i found myself in the worst case of writer’s block i’ve had in awhile. ANYWAY, i hope this makes up for it

“All I’m saying is that you’re going to look ridiculous,” Tony spoke. The rim of an almost empty glass of whiskey sat against his smiling lips, “Even Nat’s bringing a date and you two are two sides of the same coin. I don’t see how you can’t put up with a man for just one night,” Your gaze made him choke on his drink slightly, “or, or a woman?” He questioned, unsure of the reason for your deadly glance.

“I-I could get a date,” You stuttered, bringing your own glass to your lips. You crossed your legs, the black dress sat tightly against your knees. A pair of equally dark heels sat on your feet. The shoe dangled off your elevated foot, “I just chose to go stag, more of my vibe, you know,” You laughed it off.

“You’re a real lone wolf,” Tony spoke, “Are those still called bitches? Or is that just dogs?”

“Fuck off,” You groaned, finishing off your glass, “I’ll find a guy at the gala, alright. Spare me,”

“No, spare me,” Tony spoke, placing a hand on his chest dramatically, “Stark bringing along a virgin of an intern. All brain and no game,” He almost slurred, “But I guess that modest dress makes you kind of sexy in a mysterious way,”

“Forgive me for not breaking out my little black dress,” You told him, “It’s a gala. At an art museum, it’s not like we’re going to some night club”

“Oh, we’re not?” Tony questioned, “Then why are you totally pregaming with me right now,” He poured you another glass of whiskey with a shit eating grin.

“It’s the only way I can deal with you,” You admit with a smile, “This way you get a little more tolerable,”

“Glad we’re on the same page,” Tony spoke, raising another glass. However, his toast was cut short as someone caught his eyes, “Ah! Pete! Perfect, absolutely perfect,”

You turned your head, your loose, y/h/c waves twirling, “Come on, Mr. Stark,” Peter spoke, a sigh passed through his lips as he noticed Tony’s buzzed state, “There’s still like, an hour ‘til we leave,”

“Yeah! Perfect, enough time for you to have a drink with us,” Tony smiled, walking towards Peter. He took hold of Peter’s arm, dragging him into the lounge.

Peter wore a black suit, nothing fancy besides the luxury brand Tony had paid for. His hair was gelled into place and it made you laugh to yourself, “What?” Peter questioned as he heard you almost giggle. A subtle blush sat on his freckled nose. A drink found a way into his hand as he stared at you, “Mr. Stark, you know I won’t feel a thing from this,”

“Humor me, kid,” Tony spoke, “Er- us,” He motioned towards you.

You were reclined on Tony’s expensive couch as you bounced the heel that sat loosely on your foot, “Please, I’m being held here against my will,” You spoke, making Peter smile. You extended your arm, placing it on the back of the couch. Stretching, you pinched your shoulder blades without a thought. However, Peter’s thoughts were racing, the position pushing out your chest, drawing all of Peter’s attention to you. He did not think you could consume any more of his thoughts than you already did, but here he was. Knocking back whatever liquid was in the glass Tony had given him, he swallowed it in hopes of also swallowing his dirty thoughts. As he expected, it did not work.

“Y/N needs a date tonight,” Tony spoke as you took a large sip, making you instantly choke. The action was not comical, like in the movies and books, but had you embarrassingly gasping for air and coughing up a lung, “As charming as she is in this very moment, do you think you could do me a favor and not let her show up like that,” Tony spoke, “She’s my intern and I’d hate to have her overshadowed by me, and Pepper, of course. So what better than my intern showing up with my totally-not-an-Avenger, and totally real intern,”

“Are you sure this isn’t another, against her will sort of situation?” Peter questioned as you continued to cough, physically unable to say no.

“She’s not objecting,” Tony placed his hand on Peter’s shoulder, giving him a drunken shake.

***

“After the carpet, I’m finding the drinks and leaving your ass,” You spoke, “I don’t care if people think I’m alone, okay.”

“Yeah… right,” Peter spoke as he sat next to you in the long limo. The two of you sat somewhat isolated from the others. The group was paired off and in their own world, leaving the two of you to realize just how alone you really were, “Me too, I wanted to come alone anyway,”

“Me too,” You added, repeating your previous claim. Your hand found the vodka cranberry that the limo’s bar provided, “I’ve always been alone,” You informed as you brought the glass to your lips, “Why start now,”

***

You felt your stomach turn as the camera flashed. You had yet to place a single one of your black heels on the red carpet of the gala and you instantly regretted the drinks you downed to calm your nerves, “Hell no,”

“You’ll be fine,” Peter spoke, “They probably won’t even bother us if Mr. Stark’s around, not to mention everyone else,” He spoke, “Literally everyone but us,”

“That makes me feel so much better,” You almost laughed, “Thanks,” Your word was blunt. You were used to being in others' shadows. You rushed before Peter, wanting to spend the night the way you were used to: alone.

“Hey,” Peter spoke, unsure how he had upset you.

Since Peter could remember, you had always been standoffish, never reaching out for company at the compound. Always shutting yourself off in the lab, you would get your work done and leave if it was not too late of a drive. You would crash on the couch whenever Tony refused to let you leave after 1am. Tony never wanted to feel guilt of you overworking yourself in the lab only for you to fall asleep at the wheel on your drive home.

Peter recalled the sight of you sprawled out on the lounge’s large couch, a blanket tossed over you as it barely covered your exposed skin. Peter could not help falling for you after he caught that sight more than a few times. He had helped you through a few too many drinks, holding your hair as you emptied your night into Stark’s million dollar toilet. Peter was unsure if you remembered nights like that.

Peter knocked into you, bringing him back to reality as you stood frozen in front of the flashing cameras, “You’re Tony Stark’s intern, aren’t you?” Someone from the crowd questioned, voice booming over the other shouts, “Is it true you work on the Avenger’s upgrades?” The man asked.

“Y/N calls all the shots for Avengers’ upgrades,” Peter spoke next to you. Your head spun, not only from the attention, but towards Peter, “I- They’d be lost without her,”

He was not wrong. You fixed nearly all the flaws you found in Spider-Man’s suit. They were only flaws due to Peter’s way of thinking. Tony had designed the AI with himself in mind and not Peter, “Smile,” Peter whispered in your ear, sending a shiver up your spine. You could barely see, the white flashes blinding you. Reaching out, Peter placed his hand on the small of your back. Your lips parted, about to snap a sarcastic remark at Peter’s advancement, however, you felt his clammy hold through your dress’s thin fabric, making you smile.

***

“So,” You said, “You’d be lost without me?” Your question teased Peter as the two of you finally made your way into the gala’s main room.

“I can admit it,” Peter spoke, “I don’t have some weird complex like you, or Mr. Stark,”

“Don’t compare me to Tony,” You told him, still a little buzzed from not only the alcohol in your system but also the camera flashes, “God, if I get that bad kill me,”

“If you didn’t fix my suit, I might have by accident,” Peter admitted. He had eventually gotten the hang of his suit’s AI, however the changes you had made allowed him to fully master his potential, “but, yeah,” His words were smooth, “I would be lost without you, honestly,”

“Including now?” You questioned, now realizing you did not wish to face the night alone. Especially now that you have seen the amount of older men that would surely harass you if you found yourself alone, “so, leaving you behind would be a terrible idea,”

“Absolutely terrible,” Peter played along, a smile threatening to curl his lips. He knew your games and when you were hiding your true emotions, “I’m not sure if I could make it through this boring gala by myself. You’d be doing me a huge favor,”

“Yeah?” You questioned, “Then you owe me,” Your eyes searched for any amount of food you could ingest before you had more drinks to get you through the night.

“How is that fair?” Peter laughed, however, he had not made it known that he knew the facade you were putting up, “You know what, fine,” He gave in, “I owe you, whatever you ask,” As soon as the words left his lips he caught you smile, “No, no, no,” He rambled as he heard you laugh.

“Oh you can’t take it back,” You laughed, “This is going to be fun,” Peter followed you at your heels as you searched the huge gallery for food or drinks, “Maybe I’ll hold this over your head for a while,”

“Y/N,” Peter groaned, meeting your eyes. His regret faded as soon as he saw your smiling eyes and grinning lips. He was just glad that you were having a good time.

“Miss Y/L/N,” Your name was called out, attracting your attention as well as Peter’s to a man who seemed to be in his late thirties. He was cute. Peter must have read your mind, or maybe caught on to your swooning gaze, as his hand found the small of your back once again, “Pardon my interruption,” the man questioned Peter’s touch.

“No interruption,” You spoke, stepping out of Peter’s warm touch, “Just simply company, to get me through the night,” Peter stiffened at your words but your back faced him, unable to see the consequence of your claim, “Y/N Y/L/N,” You spoke, extending your hand.

The man smiled at Peter’s misfortune, “I’m glad to have caught you, I’m the gallery’s director,” He watched as your eyes lit up for a moment, “Phil Weston,” Phil introduced, “I was wondering if we could rent some of your work. Give you your own exhibition,” He watched as you stumbled over your thoughts before him, “Or should I be going through your assistant here?” He motioned towards Peter, “That’s what you are right?” He almost degraded.

“I’m a little more than that,” Peter spoke, unable to shine light on just how important he truly is. But you knew, he was sure you would back him up.

“Sure,” Phil spoke, “Well, Y/N,” Turning, he retrieved a tall glass from a woman who appeared behind him mid conversation. The glass of champagne made its way into your hand, your rings knocking against the thin glass. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small card, “Here’s my card,”

“Thanks Weston,” You smiled around the glass. Sticking the card between your two fingers, you flashed it to Peter, “Keep this safe for me,” You jokingly instructed, “assistant,” You heard Phil laugh as he departed.

“You’re ridiculous,” Peter spoke, not taking the card out of your grasp. The dark paper still waved in front of his face.

“Me?” You questioned with a bat of your lashes, with a smile you took a large sip of your drink.

“I know we’re playing a part here,” Peter spoke, “but you’re just standing there while that guy humiliates me,”

“I’m not playing a part,” You told Peter, “I call the shots, remember. And you owe me, I could have said something but then you’d owe me even more,” Alcohol coated your words as you studied the Avenger. A laugh bubbled between your lips as you began to tuck the business card into the small purse that sat at your side, “Forget it, Parker,” You informed, finishing off your champagne, “just help me find something else to drink,”

“I think you should eat something,” Peter spoke. Watching you walk away from him he reached out, taking hold of your wrist, “I mean, with how much you’ve been drinking,”

“Are you worried about me?” You asked with a sly smile, “I know you’re my fake date, but you don’t have to act like it,” Your eyes found a large table ordained with finger foods and drinks, “but I’ll humor you,”

“I just don’t want you finding yourself doing something you regret,” Peter spoke, thinking of Phil. He knew that you had more confidence when you drink. Hell, he hated it. You flirted with Peter almost every time you had one too many but in the morning the two of you could be mistaken as strangers, “Or make a complete fool of yourself,”

“That so?” You questioned as the two of you crossed the tiled floor of the museum.

“Wouldn’t put it past you,” Peter spoke from where he followed at your heels, “Little do you know, I have a decent amount of blackmail on half the compound. Sure it sucks that I can’t get drunk like the rest of you but, not going to lie, I think I have more fun watching you all make fools of yourselves,”

“What are you, a masochist?” You tease as you turn to him, drink in hand. You caught Peter’s stern glance, “Right, right,” You raised your free hand, retrieving a small sandwich, “See, food,” You stuffed the sandwich between your red lips, “Yum,” You spoke sarcastically, mouth full of food.

“How’d I land such a classy date?” Peter questioned, taking a drink from the table. He knew the alcohol would not affect his system but he did not want to look out of place.

“You wish you could land me,” You washed your food down with a large sip of wine.

“Ouch,” Peter spoke around his wine glass. He was unsure if he was just experiencing placebo from the wine but found himself speaking with newfound confidence, “I could land you… if I wanted,”

“Yeah?” You laughed, “I’d like to see that,” You admitted. You would be lying if you said you did not find Peter attractive. You have seen him at work, in the gym, you have seen him change in and out of his suit right in front of you. Peter might have not known but each time, you glanced at his toned body and mentally drooled. You would not mind if Peter pursued you, you just knew better. Peter was awkward and did not show much interest in you until tonight. He was just doing you a favor, keeping you company. He never spoke to you in the compound besides when he needed to, or when he said hello whenever the two of you passed each other in the large building, “But I know better,” You smiled, “know you better,”

“You think I won’t?” Peter questioned, watching you shrug your bare shoulders. He watched as another glass found its way into your hand, making his job a lot easier. You were a horny drunk and he was about to use that to his favor.

“Are you betting me?” You questioned almost excitedly, “Is this a bet? Please tell me you’re giving me another thing to hold over your head,”

“Sure, it’s a bet,” Peter spoke, taking another sip of wine, “But you have to be completely honest with me. No burying your feelings for me,” He informed, “Any time I ask, you have to tell me exactly how you feel,”

You almost gagged, but Peter was right, you should play fair, “Fine,” You rolled your eyes, feeling yourself begin to sway, “When’s the game start?”

“Right now,” Peter spoke, finishing off what was in his glass. Setting it down, he took yours from your grasp watching you shoot him an angry glance, “and you need to start off by telling me exactly how you feel about me,” His words were smooth, somehow forgetting that he normally had to build up the courage to just say hello to you but in this moment he was closing the space between the two of you, “I want to know what kind of a chance I even have,”

“I don’t think you have to work too hard,” You smiled, your lips beginning to numb. You stared up at Peter. Your eyes were able to count almost every freckle on his boyish face and god did you want to kiss them. Kiss him, even, “I’m kind of drunk,”

“Yeah,” Peter smiled, “I figured that much Y/N,” He whispered as if it was a secret.

“And it’s making you look cuter,” You whispered back, watching your words shoot through his heart like an arrow, freezing him in his tracks, “Even cuter than before,”

“Good to know,” Peter muttered to himself as he watched you take the wine glass back from his hand, your fingers brushing against his clammy hand.

***

“How’s the lone wolf holding up,” Tony questioned as he had excused himself from a conversation Pepper found herself in; checking in on you and Peter, but mostly you. Tony’s eyes followed you as you swayed, Peter’s hand supporting your lower back, “I see you’re holding her up,” He motioned towards Peter as you took another sip of wine, “How much has she had,”

“I lost count, but you know her,” Peter spoke, “She’s almost as bad as you,” He somewhat joked, watching Tony smile.

“I’m fiiiinne,” Your voice drew out, “I’m just bored, so I’m drinking. Sue me,” You groaned, turning to Peter, you studied him and how close he stood next to you, “Can we go dance,”

Peter’s eyes widened as he met Tony’s gaze. Tony sent him a suggestive gaze, “Yeah Pete,” He smirked, “You two should go dance, that’d be a much easier way to hold her up,”

“Pleaase,” You almost begged, “I can’t drink if I’m dancing,” You set your glass down, throwing up your hands in your defense.

“I guess that’s true,” Peter agreed, “Excuse us,” He spoke to Tony who sent him a lovey-dovey look, “Mr. Stark, please,” He muttered, leading you away from Tony and to the gala’s live string quartet.

“I love the violin,” You drunkenly gushed, “I’ve always wanted to play,” You twirled out of Peter’s hold as you entered the floor, bumping into a couple who slowly swayed to the sound. A laugh bubbled from your lips.

“I’m sorry,” Peter spoke, “Sweetheart, be careful,” He played along with your roles for the night.

“Hm, sweetheart?” You questioned as his hands fell against the fabric of your dress, “Out of all the pet names, you pick sweetheart?”

“What? You want me to call you dear? Like we’re sixty and unhappy,” Peter’s claim made you laugh, “I know better than to call you baby,” He spoke quietly, watching your nose wrinkle, “That’s what I thought,”

“It’s just so formal,” You teased, “I thought the gala was formal enough, but sweetheart? I’m swooning, darling,”

“Ah, darling,” Peter spoke as you brought a new pet name to light, “I still think sweetheart fits you,” The two of you moved in sync without a second thought as your conversation could barely be heard over the romantic strings.

“I know,” You smiled, “I’m a delight, the sweetest at the compound,” You played along.

“No,” Peter continued, “I think that’s Mr. Stark. But you’re a close second,” He spun you in his hold. His eyes studied you as you twirled before him, your hair bouncing as you smiled, a laugh falling between your lips. Your red lipstick no longer sat evenly on your skin from the amount of drink you had. Peter wondered if he should tell you, wondering if you wished to reapply the seductive red shade, however his eyes took you in instead, “You’re pretty,” The words slipped almost silently past his lips.

In an attempt to cover his claim, Peter pulled you back in, making your head spin. His action was quick, or so you thought, maybe you were just drunk, “Did you- did you just?” You stuttered, somehow his quiet claim made your heart flutter slightly. Peter’s dominant hand left the small of your back as it found its way to the side of your neck.

“How do you feel about me right now?” Peter questioned, it took everything in him to hold your eye contact, his body begging his gaze to fall to the necklace that sat against your skin.

You stared into his brown eyes, his gaze reflected sickly sweet puppy love back into your lone glance, “You called me pretty,” Was all you managed to speak, lost in Peter’s imploring gaze.

“Yeah… yeah I did. And how’d that make you feel?” Peter questioned, “Do you like it when I call you pretty?” He was no longer hesitant, realizing you probably will not remember most of the night, in the morning. Peter stared at your stunned expression, taken aback by his words, “You’re not saying no,”

“I’m just-“ You stuttered. The room twirled and you were unsure if it was from your moving feet or Peter’s sweet words. Returning to Peter’s hold, your hand fell to his chest defensively.

“I-I didn’t think you could get any prettier,” Peter spoke, words intertwining with the playing strings. Clearing his throat, he attempted to recover from his stuttered claim. Although he we determined to win your bet, you always managed to make him nervous, “Your hair looks nice curled and your eyes,” Peter rambled, “Your eyes are somehow making me more nervous than usual,” Your gaze was soft and intent, “and your dress,”

“Spare me,” You spoke, “Tony already gave me shit,” Your fingers fell from the fabric of Peter’s suit, touch trailing. Hand falling, it smoothed over the curve of your hip, “I guess I should have gone shorter,” Your eyes found a handful of women in short dresses.

“No-” His voice was almost desperate, “no- I mean. I like this dress,” He watched you raise your brows, eyes narrowing. Peter pulled you closer to him, building up the courage to express his next claim, “I’d rather think about what’s under it,” His voice was somehow smooth, “rather than seeing you in a short dress,”

“Y-Yeah?” You questioned, looking up at Peter’s blushed complexion. You felt your system warm, the alcohol still having an effect over you, “Want to see what’s under it?”

“W-What?” Peter questioned, his dancing pace slowing, “Y/N,” He laughed nervously. You were doing it again, being a horny drunk, “You’re drunk,”

“And you’re winning,” You admitted, “as much as I hate to say it,” The two of you stood on the dancefloor as the others danced around you. Your hands found their way to Peter’s chest, snaking up to his neck until your fingertips brushed against his warm cheeks, “You’re hot,”

“Y/N,” Peter spoke your name, as if he was trying to make sure that all of this was not a dream.

“Bathroom,” You interrupted.

“What?” Peter questioned, wondering if he heard you correctly, “Bathroom?” He watched you nod, feeling nerves rush through him, thinking all that alcohol finally caught up to you, “Yeah- yeah okay,” He helped you navigate your way off the dancefloor.

“Slow down,” You spoke, a little out of breath from keeping up with Peter’s gate in your heels.

Peter felt your fingers tickle against his skin, not realizing he had grabbed your hand to lead you through the crowds. He felt his confidence begin to crumble as he grew further and further away from the crowd.

The two of you traveled down the museum’s large stairs to the lower galleries and bathrooms. You felt the room begin to spin as you attempted to navigate the large concrete steps, “Shit,” You laughed, “These stairs are going to kick my ass,”

“Here,” Peter spoke, his hand fell from your hold. Reaching out, he wrapped an arm around you.

His hold steadied you but equally weakened your knees. Peter’s fingers dug into your shoulder as you looked towards him.

“What?” Peter questioned. Your gate slowed as you studied his face. You never thought he could get more handsome, but here he was helping you down a large staircase like you were some princess in a giant castle.

Did that make him the prince? Of course it did.

“I’m fucked,” You laughed, your claim was under your breath, however Peter’s hearing still picked up on it.

The claim, unknown to him, was because you found yourself falling even harder for him; however, he thought you were about to get sick. Slipping his free hand behind your knees, he easily scooped you up, literally sweeping you off your feet.

“What are you-“ You felt your face heat up at the sudden advancement, “What if someone sees- there’s cameras-“

Peter did not respond, he was far too focused on getting you to the bathroom. The remaining flight of stairs passed quickly under his shiny black shoes. Turning the stair’s corner, he brought you to the bathroom door that was tucked under the concrete stairs.

“What-What was that?” You questioned, hands gripping Peter’s shoulder, while the other found his hand that gripped underneath your thigh.

“I- What? What do you mean?” Peter questioned right back, “I thought you had too much to drink,”

“I just wanted to freshen up,” You stared back at him, realizing just how close the two of you were.

“Oh,” Peter spoke, embarrassment reddened his ears as he stared right back at you. Walking towards the wall, he pressed your open back against the concrete wall.

“Pete-“ You vocalized as the cold wall touched your heated skin. Your back arched away and towards him in his hold. Realizing your tone, your gaze fell to the floor.

Peter watched as your chest rose and fell heavily in front of him. The skin of your chest was peaking out with each intake, and it silently begged for his lips. He wanted to kiss you- well, he wanted to kiss you every moment he spent with you- but especially in this moment. Rounding his shoulders he brought his face in front of your downturned gaze. He grew closer and closer with each passing moment, eyes fixed on your own. He breathed a shaken breath, palms growing sweating as he inched closer to your lips.

Like ripping off a bandage, Peter was quick and rough. His lips pressed against yours, pushing you against the museum’s wall. You groaned against him in response to the impact, before kissing him back slightly. However, before you could fully reciprocate, you heard a pair of heels descending the stairs.

“Peter-” You stuttered against his lips, hands pushing against his chest. You buried yourself further into the wall in an attempt to escape his advancement, “Get- Let go-” You watched as your words finally registered in Peter’s brain, his hands dropping you to the floor. You struggled to keep your balance in your black heels. Without a thought, you turned and rushed off into the bathroom.

You placed your hands on the porcelain sink as you stared at yourself in the mirror. If you were not wearing makeup you would have probably splashed your face with cold water, or hell, you would have even slapped some sense into yourself. Suddenly the sound of the bathroom door made you stand up straight. You did not dare to turn your head, to check if it was Peter. You watched as a woman, a little older than you, smiled at you through the mirror. You gave her a weak smile in return, head still spinning in response to the kiss.

You needed to pull yourself together. You were slipping right into Peter’s grasp, not that it was a bad thing, you were just way too competitive. You wanted to win. Opening your small purse, you removed your lipstick. As you applied the shade to your lips, you were far too lost in thought. Staring back at yourself, you were surprised to see that you had mindlessly applied the satin formula.

The woman who had made her way into the bathroom now stood next to you at the sinks. You rubbed your lips together, blending the color evenly, “Having a good night?” You questioned her, preparing yourself for any conversation you would have with Peter.

“Oh yes,” She smiled, washing her hands gingerly, not wanting to bump her diamond bracelets against the porcelain, “I’m sorry for asking- you probably hear this a lot but, what is it like working for Tony Stark?”

Peter rocked up and down on his expensive dress shoes. You were taking fairly long. Peter had already calmed himself down in the men’s room after your heated kiss. But now, he knew he would have had time to relieve himself instead. What was wrong with him? It would not have been the first time he had touched himself to the thought of you, but it still felt wrong.

He kicked at the concrete floor, frustrated that your kiss was interrupted so quickly. Suddenly, Peter was pulled out of his thoughts as you exited the bathroom with the woman. You laughed beside her as you locked eyes with Peter, “It was a pleasure talking to you, Y/N,” The woman smiled, lightly setting a hand on your arm, “I’m sorry for keeping her,” She spoke to Peter.

Peter nodded out of courtesy as the two of you watched her climb the large stairs, “What was that about?” Peter questioned, taken aback by the sound of his own voice.

“Oh,” You spoke almost too casually, “She was asking me about Tony. Wanted to know what he’s like outside of the public eye, you know?”

“Yeah?” Peter laughed slightly, “I can imagine you only said nice things,” He joked, knowing how you and Tony bicker, “Obviously,”

“Oh of course,” You joked back. You reached out, placing a hand on his arm. You watched Peter laugh beside you, leaning into you, and that is when you remembered the kiss. You must have visibly stiffened because it caused Peter to freeze as well.

“Y/N,” Peter spoke, watching you hesitate to meet his eyes.

You wanted to touch him, pull him against you and into the kiss that was so rudely interrupted. You wanted him to fill your free time, to watch his eyes squint whenever he smiled at your crude, dry humor, “You win,”

“What?” Peter questioned, laughing slightly. Then it registered, the smile faded on his lips and a slight red flush occupied his ears and cheeks, “Oh,”

“Yeah,” You nodded slowly, “It pains me to say it, but,” You groaned, “God I hate this,” You felt Peter’s fingers tickle the skin of your wrist. Your gaze flashed to the skin on skin contact and then the bathroom door.

“What?” Peter questioned again.

“Peter,” You motioned towards the door with your eyes.

“W-Wha- No! Y/N,” Peter stuttered, “No,” His voice was assertive as you almost pouted in front of him.

You bounced on your feet, silently pleading with him. He stood his ground, “Fine. But maybe I’ll change my mind later,”

“I don’t think you will,” Peter spoke, watching you physically wither, “Come on,” He took your hand and began to lead you up the staircase. You reluctantly followed at his heels, dreading what was to come next.

***

You have made it through three separate conversations with complete strangers, all while Peter’s hand rested on the small of your back. To make matters worse, you now locked eyes with Tony. The fake smile that once parted your lips completely faded in his presence, “The kid still needs to be holding you up?” Tony teased as you gave Pepper a genuine smile.

“Pepper, I don’t know how you put up with him,” You spoke, “Sadly I’m sober,” Tony raised a brow at your statement, watching Peter’s hand return to his side.

“I’m surprised she didn’t bite your hand off,” Tony smiled as a woman approached your group with a tray of champagne, “Thank you,” He spoke to her before he passed the group glasses. He brought his lips around the rim of the thin glass, “You starting to warm up to my intern?”

“He’s tolerable company,” You smiled back, taking a large sip of champagne, “Couldn’t say the same about you though,” The tension between you and Tony hung in the air as Peter and Pepper both apologized to each other silently.

“Why don’t we get some air,” Peter suggested, hand returning back to you. He watched you finishing what remained in your glass before giving him a pressed smile.

“Sure,” You nodded, “Nice seeing you Pepper,” Your eyes did not dare fall over to Tony. You watched his hold tighten on Pepper as Peter’s did the same to you.

The two of you made your way towards a secluded exit, avoiding the paparazzi that waited for everyone outside, “Can’t you just play nice for a night?” Peter questioned after your long silence.

“It’s not like- He does that shit on purpose,” You spoke, motioning back towards the door you found yourself outside, “He always has something to say- something to get under my skin. And it’s not like you stepped in and told him to stop,”

“I like seeing you all worked up,” Peter spoke, not realizing how his claim sounded until it passed through his lips. You looked up at him, “Not- Not in a weird way- Well-“ He stuttered. Peter did like it in a weird way. He liked seeing you flustered.

You watched Peter stumble over his words, his gaze falling off of you, “Mm,” You hummed, your tone was teasing.

“I said not in a weird way,” Peter spoke, watching you lean into his, studying his blushed skin, “Y/N,”

“How then?” You questioned, “I’m dying to know,” Bringing your fingertips to a hair that hung against his forehead, pushing it back into his gelled hair, “Your hair looks so dumb,” You teased.

Taking your wrist, he brought you around the building’s corner, out of sight from anyone who would exit the door. He listened to your mumbled complaints before he took hold of both of your arms. Peter pushed you against the concrete building. The cool surface made you hiss before Peter’s hands snaked up your arms to your face. He cupped your cheeks roughly as he brought his lips to yours for a second time.

And you were so glad he did.

Your hands found his black tie, tugging on it. You loosened the fabric, feeling Peter sigh out of relief. You do not know why you started undressing him, but now your fingers fumbled against his white shirt’s small buttons, “Hey, hey,” He almost laughed against your lips, “Slow down,”

“I just want to touch you,” You admitted, pushing aside the white fabric, studying the soft skin of his neck and chest.

“I thought you loved Prada,” Peter joked. He watched you study the suit. Your eyes scanned his body before falling right back to his skin. Little did you know, Peter had asked Tony specifically for a Prada suit after he heard you obsessing over their latest campaign.

“I-I do.” You spoke, “But… I told you- You win,” Your hands held both sides of his shirt’s collar, “Swing me somewhere,”

Peter watched as you pulled yourself closer, your eyes studying his lips. He was clearly an idiot, not acting on impulse. Peter had wanted you for so long, and he hated how this was all happening now, “I, I don’t have my suit on me,” He rambled, watching you pout in front of him. Words mumbled past your lips as you tried to protest, “It’s not like I can just swing you off as Peter Parker, Y/N, I’m an intern tonight. Right? So I can’t just swing you through the city to do whatever I want to you,”

The words fell from Peter’s lips, making yours curl into a subtle smile, “What would you do?”

“What?” Peter questioned, watching you lean back against the building.

“You’d do whatever you wanted to me?” You repeated, “What would you do to me?” Peter stood, disheveled in front of you. His once pressed and buttoned shirt was wrinkled by your hands.

Peter took a step back from you, “Please,” He mumbled, fixing the collar of his shirt. Your eyes studied him before wandering, “What?”

That is when you spotted Tony’s empty limo.

“Y/N,” Peter’s voice warned as you took hold of his wrist.

“Please?” You questioned, dragging him towards the parked limo.

“Someone will see,” Peter argued back, however, he still allowed you to drag him into the lot of limos and cars.

“Yeah, in a self driving, tinted, bomb and bullet proof limo,” Your words were sarcastic and the two of you neared the limo, “Friday,” You spoke, reaching out to the limo’s hidden keyboard.

“Y/N,” The system responded, “How may I be of service?”

“Unlock the limo please,” Your hand slipped from Peter’s wrist to his sweating palm.

“Mr. Stark has installed a security protocol for you entering the limo,” Friday explained, making you scoff, “The question is: Who is the world’s greatest boss?”

Your lips pressed into a line as you dreaded answering the question, “Tony Stark,”

“Incorrect,” Friday spoke, making you groan out loud.

Your hold on Peter’s hand tightened, “He made me say it and then- and then he just made the answer some bullshit I won’t figure out-“ You felt Peter’s fingers slip between your own, calming you for a moment, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Hey, Friday,” Peter spoke, “Hey. It’s- It’s me, Peter,”

“Hello Peter,” Friday spoke.

“Yeah, h-hi. Would you be able to let us in please?”

“Of course, Peter,” The two of you watched as the limo door opened.

Turning towards you, Peter studied your annoyed expression, “Still want to go in?” He questioned with sweaty palms.

“I’m not letting Tony kill the mood,” You scoffed, bending your shoulders in order to enter the low limo, “I bet he planned this,”

Peter followed you, listening to your mumbled complaints, “Friday, could you go offline? Please?”

”Of course Peter,” The system spoke, “All audio and video recording will be offline until further instructions,” You whipped your head towards Peter, pampered hair twirling slightly, “Uh- Unless you don’t want to do anything anymore,”. He felt his heart rate begin to accelerate as you crawled towards him on the leather seat.

“I thought there was so much you wanted to do to me,” You teased, watching Peter’s shoulders stiffen slightly, “Unless you don’t,”

“I do,” Peter spoke at an embarrassing rate, “I mean… yes,” His words slowed as he studied the fabric of your dress. His gaze trailed over the dark fabric until it found your neckline, the fabric dripping as you leaned in front of him. Peter quickly brought his eyes to yours, not knowing which sight made him more nervous.

“Okay,” You responded. Picking up your knee, you brought it over Peter’s legs. You slowly lowered onto his lap, “This okay?” You felt as if your heart could pound out of your chest.

“Yeah,” Peter chuckled nervously. Your actions were killing him and he did not know if he would be able to hold back. Peter felt the weight of you on his lap, hoping you would not feel just how hard you were making him. Bringing his hands to your thighs, he pushed past the soft fabric of your dress. The fabric pooled around his wrist as his hands trailed up your legs, “shit,”

“Peter,” His name fell quietly past your lips as you placed your hands on his chest, fingertips on his collarbones. You heard him hum in response to his name, “What- What are you going to do?” You attempted to keep up the act, however, being this close to Peter was making you crumble.

“R-Right,” Peter breathed out, feeling his lungs shake as he took in a sharp breath. He studied the skin of your neck as you stared at him. Peter closed the space between the two of you, lips finding the skin he had been studying. His kisses varied, some soft yet some hungry. Peter’s lips parted, his kisses becoming more sloppy as his fingers dug into your plush skin coaxing a whimper from your lips.

The limo air hung heavy with every heated kiss and breath the two of you exchanged. Bringing your hand to Peter’s head, your fingers took hold of his hair. You pulled him away from your neck before you brought your lips to his. Your kisses were equally as hungry and making up for lost time. Hands still exploring his hair, you raked through the gel that held it in place.

You let out a sigh of relief as you messed with Peter’s gelled hair. A slight smile curled on your lips as you kissed him, “What?” Peter questioned, lips not even an inch away from yours. His eyes studied your smile, teeth appearing between your lips.

“Your hair,” You spoke, leaning back to study it, “Did Tony tell you to wear it like that?”

“N-No,” Peter replied, “I always put gel in. I just used more this time,”

“Yeah well,” You played with a piece of hair that hung out of place, “I like it better like this,”

“Yeah?” Peter smiled.

“Mhm,” You hummed, fingers running through his locks.

“Then I guess I’ll have you do my hair for the next gala,” Peter added.

“Okay,” You answered quietly, eyes now falling to his lips.

“Alright,” Peter smiled, leaning back into you. His lips found yours once more, finding the rhythm the two of you previously shared.

Peter had no idea how he ever survived this long without kissing you. The feeling of your body and lips pressed against him was enough to drive him insane. He melted against you, fully giving into you. His touch continued to trail up your skin, fingers now tracing the curve of your hips and waist, “Y/N,” Peter breathed out, “Are we doing this? Because I feel like I’m losing my mind-“

“Y-Yeah,” You stuttered, coming back to reality, “We better hurry before Tony realizes we’re gone,” You watched as Peter’s brows furrowed for a moment, “What?”

“I want to take my time with you,” He admitted, “I’m not really a quickie kind of guy,”

“Quickie? What are you, a teenager?” You teased slightly, “You can have me when we get back to the compound,” Peter’s gaze fell from your eyes to the tinted window out of embarrassment, “Yeah? Sound fair?”

“Yeah,” Peter spoke, hands leaving your waist and falling onto the fabric of his dress pants. The sound of his zipper made you realize that you were actually about to fuck him and none of this was a dream, “Let’s make this quick then,”

You brought your lips to his in a rough kiss, pushing Peter’s back fully against the limo’s seat. You raised yourself off of Peter’s lap, allowing him to push the fabric of his pants down his thighs. Suddenly, you felt Peter’s finger push your underwear aside, finger running through your wet folds. This caught you off guard, making you jump, body freezing against him.

“You’re so wet,” Peter almost laughed, “How long have you been like this?”

“The Prada got me pretty quick,” You admitted slightly.

“Yeah?” Peter smiled, “It wasn’t the fake dating?”

“S-Shut up,” You stuttered as Peter’s touch returned for another swift motion between your legs, “We d-don’t have time for this,” You spoke, hoping Peter’s teasing would cease as embarrassment flooded your cheeks.

“Right, no foreplay,” Peter spoke, “Not that you seem to need it right now,” He teased, watching your brows furrow, “Right, right,” Peter spoke, pulling a condom out from the inner pocket of his suit jacket.

“You, you brought a condom?” You stared at the foil in disbelief, for some reason Peter’s action stirred the butterflies that sat in your stomach.

“Y-Yeah,” Peter admitted, “I have one on me if I ever think I have a chance with you… and also when I don’t,” Opening the condom, he attempted to distract himself from your quiet laughter above him.

The laughter continued to bubble past your lips. You were not laughing at Peter, but at how stupid you were for waiting this long to act on your feelings. Somewhere between your laughs, Peter had rolled the condom down the length of his dick.

“What?” Peter questioned your laughter as he pushed the fabric of your underwear aside.

“N-Nothing,” You stuttered, catching your breath from your laughs, “I just- I feel like I don’t deserve you,”

Reaching out, Peter covered your mouth. He somehow felt himself grow even harder as the claim left your lips. His dick bounced, attracting your gaze. You felt your face heat up as you took in the sight before you.

Removing his large hand, Peter caught you in a heated kiss. It was a kiss by definition, however it was sloppy and hungry with barely any rhythm to it. As you lost yourself in decoding it, Peter had lined himself up underneath you and began to enter you.

“S-Shit,” Peter stuttered at how tight you sat around his dick. You were so wet for him and he entered you easily, “fuck,”

“P-Peter,” You returned his stuttering, his name falling past your lips as you felt the size of him, “God- shit, you’re big,”

“Right,” Peter laughed as you gave him the classic, cliche line. But he was big and you were not sure if you could thank the spider bite for that or not.

However, as the single thought crossed your mind, it soon left as Peter began to bounce you above him, his fingers digging into the skin of your thighs, “Ffffuck,” You moaned from the pressure of Peter’s hands combined with the rhythm he started.

“God you sound so pretty,” Peter groaned as his head tilted back against the seat’s headrest. Your hands, once bunching the fabric of his dress shirt, now traveled to his collar. Your fingers fumbled to unbutton his shirt, hungry for the sight of his soft skin.

As soon as the skin of his chest was visible, your shoulders rounded and lips attached to his collarbone. His skin passed your lips as your teeth marked him, earning a moan from his parted lips.

“Y/N-“ The pain from your mark making only made Peter thrust into you harder and faster, “shit,”

Your hands fell to either side of Peter’s head, holding onto the seat as Peter fucked you. Peter was still holding back, but at this strength, you were still going to be hurting in the morning. You bit into the skin of his shoulder, trying to suppress your moans that only grew louder; screams threatening to replace them, “P-Peter-“ You somehow attempted to speak his name.

“I-I,” Peter almost stuttered, “hate to say it but I’m really close,” He watched as you pulled your face out from his neck, now studying him. He was falling apart below you, everything about you making him weak. Somehow, he felt as if he was becoming weaker just at the sight of you, “Y/N,”

Peter looked as if he was holding on for you, brows furrowed as his teeth dug into the skin of his bottom lip. As you studied his lips, you decided to bring yours to his jaw, showering him in kisses. Some were sloppy and some were rougher than others as you attempted to help Peter over the edge he was holding onto, “Want you to cum,” You whispered against his skin, “Cum for me. Please?”

“S-Shit,” Peter breathed out. The curse rang with a slight laugh as you relieved him. With a few more rough thrusts, Peter filled the condom that was deep inside of you, “I-I wanted to last longer,” He informed, however his claim was cut short by your lips finding his own.

“Later,” You reminded him, “If you still want to-“

“I do-“ Peter interrupted. Clearing his throat at his desperation, he spoke again, “Yeah, yeah I’d like that,”

“Yeah,” You smiled, “I’d like that too,” You studied him as you still sat on his lap. However, that is when you remembered where you two were, “Shit-“ You raised yourself off of his lap. A shutter traveled through you as Peter quickly exited you.

“W-What?” Peter questioned awkwardly as the filled condom fell against the fabric of his shirt. Pulling it off of his dick, he tied it off before tossing it in the limo’s trash.

“How long has it been?” You questioned, nervousness rushing through you at the thought of the gala being over.

Your question made Peter’s shoulders round, wishing the limo’s seat would engulf him, “Was… was I that bad?”

“What?” You questioned as you collected yourself, looking out of the limo’s tinted window, “Wh- No- No. I-I meant how long have we been in here,”

“Oh,” Peter spoke, attempting to make himself look presentable as well, “We should get back to the gala, “Hey- hey Friday, could you come back online please,”

“Of course Peter,” The system spoke as you placed your hand on the limo’s handle.

“W-Wait- hold on I’m almost-” Peter spoke but his claim was interrupted by your low voice.

“Maybe we shouldn’t get out at the same time… in case anyone sees,” Your words were cautious as if you were dancing around an insult, “Anyone being like the media… or-”

“Or Phil?” Peter questioned quite quickly.

“You know what I mean,” You spoke back defensively, “We don’t need any attention drawn towards you or a Stark controversy,”

“I know,” Peter responded, however you were already halfway out of the limo’s door.

Stepping into the cool night air, you took in a sharp breath. You did not mean to hurt Peter’s feelings, but it was just second nature to you. You always said the wrong things and somehow found yourself in arguments, but Peter was the last person you wanted to upset.

“Needed to cool off?” You heard Tony’s voice call out.

“Not now,” You groaned, however you dropped the attitude as you saw the rest of the group not too far behind him, “Party’s over?”

“Yeah you missed it. Where’s Pete? Was he holding your hair after all those drinks?” Tony asked, eyes scanning for Peter. You walked back towards the limo, hoping to warn Peter of the group’s presence before they could catch up. Opening the door you stuck your head into the vehicle, “I’m surprised Friday even let you in there,” Tony spoke as he approached you from behind. He waited for a remark from you. After all, he programmed the question just to mention you, however you were silent. Sticking his head in, he caught the last glimpse of what exactly was going on in his limo.

You pushed Peter away, who as soon as you entered the limo had caught you in a quite passionate kiss, “Not- not now-“

“Do I even want to sit in this limo?” Tony’s voice questioned, making you jump away from Peter’s hold. You sat down, putting a seat between the two of you, “My limo, may I add. God, I don’t even want to think about what you two did in here. And where you did it”

“Mr. Stark,” Peter spoke, the group’s presence unknown to him after he stopped you in your tracks as you entered the limo to warn him, “We didn’t…”

“Yeah Pete, real convincing,” Tony looked around as he climbed into the limo, calculating where the safest place to sit might be, “Could you please just let me know if I’m about to sit in the splash zone or something,”

“I…I swear to fucking god,” You groaned, fingers now rubbing circles into your temples, “Can we all just get in and leave?”

“Why?” Tony questioned, attempting to hold eye contact with you as the rest of the Avengers piled into the limo, “Is there just something you’re dying to finish when we get back?”

“If something did happen tonight, shouldn’t you be glad? Took them long enough,” Natasha spoke, giving you a slight grin. Her red hair, once pulled back taut, now had a few loose pieces that fell against her cheekbones, “Plus, spare me. I’m getting a migraine from all that wine,”

“I’m trying to spare you” Tony spoke, fingers falling against his chest. Raising his opposite hand, he flashed the foil wrapper that sat between his fingers, “I don’t know what seat is safe,”

“Peter,” You groaned, covering your eyes as Tony tossed the wrapper towards you. You rubbed your temples as you heard Peter stutter from where he sat on your left.

“I mean,” Tony spoke, pouring himself another glass of whiskey from the limo’s bar, “I didn’t think you’d actually do it. Good for you kid, she’s way out of your league,” Taking a sip, he looked towards you. “So much for lone wolf,”

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