#it felt like the frame rate was a bit fucked i dunno

[keroa]

Damn I realized today just how much my computer cannot keep up with half life alyx, and streaming it doesn't help

I really need to build a new PC I hate this prebuilt garbage

[jeon-kookie-dough]

Caught in the Game - Chapter 01

After growing up in the midst of Toman and a rather wild time in college, you are now working for a popular fashion magazine. You were aware of your boss's gang past - Kokonoi Hajime's name having been well-known during your school time - but after you bumped into an old friend at work the other day, one coincidence follows the next and you find your past catching up to you...

pairings: Koko x reader, Chifuyu x reader genre: angst, gang!au rating: m for violence & slowburn smut word count: 2,536 next>

The subway was much stuffier than usual. Bodies pressed into each other at every curvature, the sweat mingling on the sticky handlebars. And it is only the morning, for fuck’s sake.

The way from my house, which is located kind of in the outskirts of Tokyo, to Chiyoda where my office was located, felt like a lifetime this hot morning. Between trying to avoid creeps in the subway and standing in the longest queue in front of my favorite coffee shop for what seemed like hours, I was trying to supersede immense tiredness.

As of November, of the year prior I was working for one of the bigger fashion magazines in the country and the deadline for my latest article was already scratching at the front door. More like clawing, actually.

Up until starting up this job, I was used to living a half-assed life. School came easy to me, despite having been caught up in some…situations. College was a blur of alcohol and parties and I just barely graduated. After college I held myself above water with various part-time jobs, having been kicked out from home at barely 18 and landed my current job by chance. This upcoming article was more than important to me, thus stressing myself, and crying my fucking eyes raw from frustration, since it was the first time having my work printed in an actual magazine instead of just publishing online.

The second I stepped foot into Marunouchi Park Building, I sighed of relief and thanked who ever invented ACs. I entered the elevator, pushed the button for the 23rd floor and leaned back against the cool metal wall of the cabin. Just as the doors were about to close, somebody sprinted into the otherwise empty cabin. The person was male and of average height, balancing a couple garment bags and shoe boxes in his arms. I wasn’t really surprised that he was going to exit on the same floor, as the other offices in this building were mostly financial firms.

Not minding the other person, I let him leave the elevator before me, clocked in and greeted my colleagues with a friendly nod. I took a while, but in the past eight months, people seemed to have accepted that I was far from a morning person, so they learned to appreciate my curt nods. Only because I bring coffee. At least that’s my hypothesis.

“Good morning, sunshine!”

My eyeballs immediately rolled to the back. Hearing my boss’ voice in the morning was like nails on a chalkboard. I rolled back with my chair, peaking around my cubical. The bright sunlight illuminated the office through the glass front, reflecting in the angled door to the chief editor’s single office. His figure leaned in the door, arms crossed and hand holding out expectantly.

“S’up, Koko?” I mumble. I knew exactly what he had his hand stuck out for, but I wouldn’t give him the gratification he wanted. That rich fuck, I thought. Bet he snorts his coke with 10k yen bills but can’t even get his own fucking coffee.

“Think my hand is missing an iced Americano this morning. Care to explain?” His slender frame circled around the cubicle wall, now towering above my sitting person. My office was usually occupied by five people in total. Inui always being late and the other three on vacation left me as the only victim. I rolled my eyes at him. “Dunno”, I retorted, opting for my most innocent look. “Think I might have dropped it. You can have a sip of my Cappuccino, but I’m afraid I spat in it.”

Kokonoi Hajime was a peculiar person. He stood at 5’9” and his black locks braided away from the left side of his face was his signature look. He cared a lot about his staff being dressed well, as he himself only own designer suits from Italy. Despite enjoying the power he had over his staff, he also was very liberal in the way we communicated with another at the office. I had never met him before taking the job, but I had certainly heard of Kokonoi way before.

Koko was only a year or two older than I was and back in middle and high school he had a reputation. He lived one school district away from me, but the stories about him were also told at my school. Stories of a financial prodigy that hid behind his wannabe gangster friends that, most of the time, resorted to violence.

“You have a foul mouth”, he snickered, grabbing my cup and taking a sip anyway. “Somebody ever told you that?” I hummed in response, counting my coffee lost, and turned on my laptop. “I have a meeting in five minutes, so please take my calls, will you? Inui is useless, as always.” I nod silently, still grieving the loss of my coffee. Koko’s gaze rested on Inui’s empty desk, then on me. “How’s that big article of yours coming along?”

I knew he meant no harm with that question, but my elevated stress levels along with the acid, that always seems to wing in his voice, made me snap. “Fuck off, alright? I’m working on it.”

The chief editor raised his hands in defense and backed away from my desk, a smile playing about his lips. “The meeting’s until noon. Tell Inui to take my phone when his drags his lazy ass here.”

Inui arrived at 10:30, offering a coffee and a doughnut as a peace offering. I told him to screw off and, finally, concentrated on my article. It was almost done, but I needed it to be perfect before handing it to Kokonoi for proof-reading. I couldn’t afford messing this up if I ever intended of becoming a regular in the print.

I was so emersed in my work that I never saw the visitor arrive or leave. At lunch, all that occupied my mind was my hunger. I didn’t really have a lot of money left, thanks to the fucking chief for having me dress in expensive clothes so he quote unquote didn’t have to claw his eyes out at the sight of me, so a snack from the vending machine it was.

With food just in sight, my feet may have become a little too eager and I stumbled a crashed face first into someone walking by, having them fall onto the marble floor with me. I cussed under my breath and tried to get onto my feet, when there was already a hand outstretched to help me.

“You okay?” I averted my eyes immediately, embarrassment written on my face. “Uh, yeah, I’m alright, I guess. Er, I think you dropped something.” I dove right back down, picking up the visitor laminate. It read ‘Visitor for KOKONOI Hajime. Name-‘

My gaze darted up immediately, meeting a pair of silver eyes staring right back at me. “Mitsuya fucking Takashi?” I whispered in sheer disbelief. My opposite grinned, squeezing his eyes shut doing so. “It’s been a long time, huh, (Y/N)?”

I found myself accompanying Mitsuya to a Korean restaurant down the street for lunch. His treat, he said. The sun was merciless, and he scolded me for not carrying an umbrella with me. “It’s bad for your skin, you know?” I grunted, looking up at him. “Like I care.”

My high school graduation ceremony had been the last time I had seen Mitsuya. Up until then, we had almost been inseparable, having lived in the same shitty apartment complex, visiting the same middle school and him only being one year older. Back then, a lot of things happened. We never really had a fall out, at one point things just changed.

At the restaurant, we slid into a booth and a young waitress came to our table to take our order. Her eyes revealed that she found my companion attractive, but as per usual, he was oblivious. A couple minutes passed, and we were handed our drinks.

“Alcohol at this hour?” His eyebrow shot up in worry, vanishing behind his silver hair. He changed it up a bit since then, leaving his shaved sides in his natural black hair color, his top hair raked with black strands in the otherwise light hair. “Thought you had given up on that.”

I stirred my vodka soda with the glass straw, the ice chinking against the glass. “Yeah, I had.”

Mitsuya didn’t dig any further and leaned back into the cushioned bench instead. “So, a fashion magazine, huh? I thought you always wanted to become a sugar baby, what happened?” At his question I emptied half my drink in one gulp, disregarding the straw completely. “Turns out I’m not really cut for sucking wrinkly dick.” To that, Mitsuya busted out laughing. “You achieved just what you always dreamed of. How does that feel?” I asked quietly.

He stayed silent for a while and I watched him gnawing at the inside of his cheek, clearly thinking about how to choose his next words. “A lot of time has passed, you know?” His voice was dull as he finally spoke. “And a lot happened in between. I guess it was either getting my life under control or…” His voice trailed off, but I knew exactly what he left hanging in the air. Prison. Or even worse, death. “For my sisters’ sake, I chose to get my life together.”

I nodded, fumbling with the glass straw, one burning question on the tip of my tongue. How are the others? Is everyone still alive? I was too afraid of the answer, so I pushed the thought way back.

“Tell me about you, though”, Mitsuya smiled and leaned forward, folding his hands and propping his chin on them. “Working for Koko now, huh? How’s that been?” I groaned quietly and let my head hang. “He’s a fucking pain in the ass. Making me buy all this expensive shit so I’ve got nothing left in the bank. If I knew beforehand who the chief editor was, I would have never taken that job.” Mitsuya chuckled and flicked my forehead. Just like he always used to.

“I know what you mean” he mused. “I never thought I’d see his face again after-“ My eyes shot up at the tone in his voice. I never knew they had met before. Back then, I would have feared for his life. Everyone was young and stupid back then; delinquents with nothing but fist fights on their minds. But the folks Koko had surrounded himself with were more on the actual criminal side.

“What? Mitsuya, you never told me!” Even I was surprised at the pure horror in my voice. “Why didn’t you say something?” Mitsuya shrugged. “Nothing bad ever happened. It was just a surprise to see him in a position like this, that’s all.”

After lunch, which was fucking delicious, dare I add, Mitsuya and I exchanged numbers before going our separate ways.

The rest of the day I couldn’t concentrate on anything anymore. Before I headed home, I met Kokonoi’s gaze through his glass door and it gave me the shivers. Like he was watching me. Like he knew something. Creep. This weird feeling followed me all the way home and I caught myself looking back at every turn, at every red light. For some reason the conversation I have had with my old friend had me nervous. Nervous for him, for me, for everyone. What if Koko’s the same old thug, but with a lot more money and influence?

At home I opened a bottle of white wine, dunked the cap in the bin and sat at my desk, ready to catch up on the time I wasted at the office being worried. With a little liquid confidence, of course. Cheers!

I had approximately gotten about three hours of sleep. My body felt like it had gotten run over by a truck, my brain felt like soup. The only silver lining was, that I had, hallelujah!, finished my article – and my favorite co-worker Natsuki returning from her vacation. She had been working at the magazine already when I had started and showed me around.

Only a few days after I had started working, Atsushi Sendo had been transferred from another internal office to ours. There had been a lot of rumors occurring around his transfer, sexual harassment among them, but in the end, he had only royally fucked up his latest pitch and, as a punishment, had been put under Koko’s supervision, since he’s known to be the meanest editor. He ended up liking to work with us so much that he just stayed. The three of us ended up becoming the bane of Koko’s existence.

I stepped one foot into the office, yawning and pulling an Inui, I can’t believe that I arrived even after him, before I heard Natsuki already picking a fight with the chief editor. I silently put her coffee next to her cup of tea, handed another one to Inui and sat down at my own desk.

“With all due respect, Kokonoi, but you can’t expect me to not freak out when I come back after three weeks and find myarticle published under your name!” I leaned back into my chair, eyes closed, and head thrown back, and listened to the bickering in the chief editor’s office. A few minutes later, Natsuki threw the door into the lock behind her, the heel of her shoes dangerously echoing in the otherwise silent room.

It only took a moment before my sleepy body jumped awake when it got hit by a paper ball. My eyes ripped open just to find her eyes lingering over the wall between our cubicles. “Thanks for the coffee”, she said, raising the cup in a silent toast. I did the same, somewhat straightening up my spine in the seat. “Glad you’re back”, I yawned. “Old scrooge was unbearable.”

“Was?”, Natsuki barked under her breath. “He’s the spawn of hell! Remind me to never take anything from him again. He’s the kind of person to always expect something in return and I don’t even want to think about what he would expect.” I grunted in my chair and sipped on my black coffee, leaving a red lip print on the paper.

“Money” Kokonoi, who unbeknownst to any of us had left his office, answered Natsuki whilst keeping his sly eyes on my. “I don’t take anything but cash. (Y/L/N), where’s your article. Deadline’s today.” Natsuki’s and my eyes met over the screen. Our boss rarely called us by our names, much less our family names - he prefers shit like darling or sweetheart. Why the fuck am I still working here?! – so we knew something was up. And maybe I have a hint.

“Check your mails. I submitted it at, like, 3.” “A.m.?” Natsuki mouthed in disbelief, but I kept my eyes fixed on Kokonoi. He beckoned me with a finger to follow me. “Come in my office for a minute, would you, sweetheart.” There he was again. The egotistical, chauvinistic asshole. The chair hit the screen behind me as I rolled back a little more forceful than intended, but I followed him, anyway.

[hopelikethemoon]

New Tricks (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}

Title: New Tricks Rating: PG-13 Length: 4000 Warnings: Discussions of sex, sex toys, etc. annnnd family fluff.  Notes: You can find the Maybe Today, Maybe Forever Timeline here. Set in late October 1997. A few things to point out: pegging was not coined until 2001, so the use of it in this fic is a bit anachronistic, but alas. That whole portion of the upcoming plot will slowly come out over the next week or so. Also, the location she mentions living near is a famous shop in Philly. This is derived from my personal background for reader (here). Shoutout to @propertyofpoeandbucky​ for the idea for the second half of this fic.  Summary: Javier and Reader work towards trying something new. 

Taglist:  @grapemama  @seawhisperer @huliabitch @pedropascalito @rogrsnbarnes @thewallpapergoesorido @twomoonstwosuns @gooddaykate @livasaurasrex @ham4arrow @hiscyarika @plexflexico @readsalot73 @hdlynn @lokiaddicted @randomness501 @fioccodineveautunnale  @roxypeanut @just-add-butter @snivellusim @amarvelousmandalorian @lukesrighthand @historynerd04​ @mrsparknuts​ @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​ @exrebelshocktrooper​ @awesomefandomsunited​ @ah-callie​ @swhiskeys​ @lady-tano​ @beskar-droids​ @space-floozy @cable-kenobi​ @longitud-de-onda​ @cool-ultra-nerd​ @himbopoes​ @findhimfives​ @pedrosdoll​ @seeking-a-great--perhaps​ @frietiemeloen​ @arrowswithwifi​ @random066​ (more tags in the replies)

“If any of my students catch me in here…” Javier told you lowly, pushing his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose, before he shoved his hands into his leather jacket. 

“Well you’re drawing attention to yourself.” You told him, giving him a pointed look as he shifted his weight from his heels to the balls of his feet, rocking back and forth as you perused the aisle. “Chill. It’s a sex shop, Javi. It’s not like we’re buying blow.” 

“I’d rather be doing that.” He retorted, clicking his tongue against his teeth as he met your gaze. “Do you really think this is what Nancy meant when she told us to be adventurous?” He questioned, glancing towards the shelves. 

You rolled your eyes, “She gave me the address.” 

“Shit.” He huffed, crossing his arms across his chest now. “How adventurous are we talking, baby?” Javier questioned, following behind you as you stopped in front of a display of vibrantly colored dildos. 

You pursed your lips as you tilted your head to look at him. “I don’t know. How adventurous do you want to be?” You questioned, turning then and resting your hand on his shoulders. “I want us both to be comfortable.” 

“I dunno,” Javier dragged his teeth over his bottom lip as he glanced at the display, brows furrowing. “Let’s stick to things that aren’t going to bruise my ego.” You followed his line of sight to a dildo that was significantly larger than he was. 

You tried not to laugh, but failed. “You’re more than enough for me, babe.” You promised him, leaning up on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. 

Javier huffed, tilting his head to look down at you. “I get the impression you know a lot about this shit.” He gestured vaguely around the shop. 

“A bit.” You shrugged a shoulder. “I can’t say I’ve tried a lot, but I’m aware of it.” You brushed your fingers over the hair that fell against his forehead, before tracing your fingertip over the worry line between his brows. “We don’t have to do anything, Javi. We came, we’ve seen, we can tell Nancy nothing struck our fancy.” 

“Can I help you guys find anything?” Asked the shop employee, who had already introduced himself to you as Rocky when first you came in. 

Javier clenched his teeth and shook his head, “We’re good. Still looking.” 

“Well, if you need any help I’m here.” He offered, looking between the two of you. “The first time in a shop like this can be a little overwhelming.” 

“I actually used to live near The Pleasure Chest,” You told him as you took Javier’s hand into yours, interlacing your fingers. You knew he was uncomfortable. 

“Lucky girl,” Rocky grinned at you. “I’ve ventured north twice to hit that spot. Worth it.” He looked towards Javier then. “Your first time?”

Javier made a vaguely disgruntled face as his other hand went to his hip. “Our therapist suggested the place.” 

“Trouble?” He questioned with a frown. 

“No, actually.” You were quick to interject. “But she suggested that we might want to try something new together…” 

Javier truly looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole and die. “I mean, what are we supposed to try?” He questioned, shaking his head slowly. “We’ve got two kids. It’s not like we can install that⁠—” He pointed towards a sex swing that was set up at the far end of the aisle. 

Rocky laughed, “Sounds like quite the dilemma. There’s always costumes. Most people enjoy a little roleplay in the bedroom.” He suggested, but you shook your head. 

“We are terrible at that.” 

“Because you break character.” Javier pointed.

You shot him a look. “Oh, so you do like that, Professor?”

Javier glared at you. 

“I seem to remember someone didn’t enjoy pretending to be strangers.” You reminded him.

Rocky looked between the two of you, “Have you ever considered pegging?”

“Excuse me?” Javier questioned, his head jerking as he stared back at Rocky. 

You just gaped. Holy shit. 

“I’ll take that as a no.” Rocky laughed nervously. “Well, I absolutely understand that it’s not something every man is into, I personally think it’s worth a try. You might surprise yourself. A lot of men say they have their best orgasms from the experience. Not to mention, their partners enjoy being in control.”

“I don’t think so.” You offered with a shake of your head. Your face felt like it was on fire and suddenly your throat was very dry. It certainly put an interesting picture in your mind. But Javier would never. Though, he never had any argument against letting you take the lead in the bedroom. 

No. He would never. 

“Alright, well... I’ll leave the two of you to look around.” Rocky said, before excusing himself. 

Javier looked dumbfounded, hands shoved back into his pockets as he turned to stare at the wall of dildos again. 

“We can leave.” You told him, looping your arm around his as you leaned into his side. “I know you’re uncomfortable.”

He pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, as he exhaled heavily. “This is all just outside of my frame of reference.” He admitted. “I think you and I were raised in very different locales.”

You nodded in agreement. “I can’t imagine Texas being very…” You gestured towards the dildos. “And I’ve been to Laredo.” It was a one horse town that had more churches than people. 

Javier cleared his throat, shuffling somewhat awkwardly as he nodded his head towards the display. “Is that what he was talking about?” He questioned, glancing sideways at you.

You chewed on the inside of your bottom lip as you nodded. “Yeah, that’s the uh… the harness.” You wrapped your arms around your waist nervously, looking between the device and Javier curiously. “Did that actually pique your interest?”

“No.” He answered a little too quickly, scratching at his jaw. “I don’t know.” 

Your brows shot upwards. “Really? Huh.” 

“Huh?”

You cocked your head to the side, “It’s just… You’re very in control.” You gestured to him, tightening your fist to symbolize just how very much in control he was when it came to life. “I can’t really picture you letting me fuc⁠—”

“I get it.” 

You stepped around him and picked up the box containing just the harness, flipping it over to look at the instructions on the back. Your cheeks were burning with a flush that you could feel spreading down your neck and across your chest. Even your ears felt like they were on fire. “Really?” You said again, turning to look at Javier. “I’m definitely not judging, I’m just surprised.” 

“I mean…” He rubbed at the back of his neck, “We couldn’t be accused of not being adventurous if we give this a try.” 

You snorted, “Because that’s definitely the only reason for me to peg you.” You sat the box back on the shelf, turning to face him. “I think it’s something you’re supposed to build up to.” You explained, “We can just get a toy to start.” 

“Smart.” Javier’s brows drew together as his teeth dug into his bottom lip. He looked back towards the display apprehensively. “I could hate it.” 

“You could.” You agreed, leaning towards him and resting your cheek against his arm. “Or you could really enjoy it.” 

He curled his arm around your waist, hooking his finger in your belt loop. “Yeah.” 

Your eyes flickered over the offerings on the shelf, before you spotted a slim neon blue toy with a flared base. It wasn’t particularly large and the box advertised that it was For Beginners. “What about…” You pointed at it and you felt him stiffen.

Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth. “We take this to the grave.” 

“Oh, babe… I wouldn’t dare.” You snaked your arms around him. “I don’t even know if I want to tell Nancy.” 

He pursed his lips and shook his head. “And we never speak of it again if I hate it.” 

“Agreed.” 

Javier pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Fuck.” He chuckled, rubbing his hand over the small of your back. 

You pulled away from him as you leaned down to pick up the box, “Do you want to wait outside while I buy it?”

“Yeah.” He scraped his nails against his jaw as he shifted on his feet.

Apparently there were still things left to be learned about Javier. You had assumed that he’d rather die than be into anything of the more taboo nature in the shop, but apparently you were wrong. You couldn’t deny the picture you had in your mind’s eye was a very appealing one. 

“You’re sure about this?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I think it’s worth an attempt.” 

“I’m not going to lie to you, Javi.” You told him, tapping the box against the center of his chest. “The idea of you letting me use this on you is… very appealing.” 

Javier cocked a brow upwards, “Really?”

You nodded, grinning up at him. “What can I say? I love it when you’re at my mercy.”

He hooked his fingers in your belt loops and pulled you towards him. “I’m always at my mercy, baby.” Javier told you, leaning down to kiss you gently. “But we tell no one.” 

You crossed your finger across your chest. “To the grave.” 

 ⁠—⁠—⁠—⁠—

 You knelt down on your knees in front of Josie, “Please be careful, sweetheart. You have a mouth full of pretty teeth that the tooth fairy isn’t ready to come collect.” You warned her as you tied the laces of her roller skates. 

“I’ll be careful, mommy.” She promised, grinning broadly at you and pointing at her teeth. “I have big girl teeth.”

“Not quite.” You chuckled, shaking your head. Though she did have one loose tooth. You weren’t sure you were ready for your four-year-old to have grown-up teeth. She was still your little baby. 

You stood back up, holding out your hands for her as she slid off the chair and tried to balance on her feet. “Ooo! I can roll!” She squeezed your hands excitedly, slowly sliding her feet back and forth like she was walking. 

Javier returned with two boxes of roller skates, sitting them down on the chair beside Josie’s. “Look at you!” He clapped for her, before he scooped her up into his arms, much to her delight. “Are you going to be safe out there?”

“Yeah!” Josie promised him, throwing her arms around his neck. 

You sat down in the chair and kicked off your shoes, opening the box Javier had brought over to grab your own pair of skates. “I’m going to warn you, it’s been since before Colombia since I’ve skated.” 

Javier gave you a look, “You think I’ve gone skating since we got to Miami?”

“Who knows what you and Steve get up to.” 

“Not this.” He nodded his head towards the rink, where Olivia and the rest of her birthday guests were already darting around on rollerskates. 

“I’m just saying, he’s got rollerblades. He knows what he’s doing.” You shrugged as you started lacing your shoes up. “Are you actually going to get out there?” You questioned, glancing up at him as he tossed Josie into the air, making her giggle and squeal. 

“You’re going to get kicked in the face with skates.” You warned him.

“Yeah.” He laughed, sitting Josie back down on her feet. “And yeah, I guess I’ll give a try.” 

“I’ll give you the same warning I gave her. Don’t break anything.” You looked up at him from under your lashes. “Old man.” 

Javier feigned offense, “Did you hear that, JoJo? Your mom thinks I’m old.” 

She scrunched up her nose and looked up at him. “But you are old daddy!” 

You snorted. “This is what you get for telling her you had a pet dinosaur when you were a kid.” 

Javier rolled his eyes. “I’m surrounded.” 

“Surrounded by what?” Monica questioned as she joined the three of you, already laced into her boots. 

“People who think Javi’s old.” You informed her with a grin. 

Monica laughed, “I’d comment, but I want a good grade in class.” She gestured beside her, “You guys remember Nadia.” 

“Nice to see you again,” Javier gave her a nod as he sank down into the seat beside you, opening up the box of rollerskates. 

“Are you really going to skate?” Monica arched a brow.

Javier pursed his lips, looking between the two of you. “Do you both know something I don’t know? Did my doctor call?” 

You leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You already complain about your back, Javi.” 

“I can skate.” He assured you, reaching over to give your knee a squeeze. “And someone’s gotta make sure Josie doesn’t wipe out.” 

Josie put her hands on her hips, “I don’t need help!” She announced, turning to Monica. “I have Monica!” 

“I think Monica and Nadia might want to skate alone, sweetheart.” You told her as you gave her a warning look. You had tried to teach Josie that there were times when Monica wanted to be alone, mostly when she was studying… but sometimes Josie missed the cues. 

“It’s really okay,” Monica assured you, holding her hand out for Josie. 

“Are you sure?” You looked between her and Nadia. 

Nadia shrugged. “I’m the one who agreed to a date at a child’s birthday party.” 

“Have fun, please.” You told Monica, “And send her back if she’s too much.” 

“Will do.” She and Nadia both gave you mock salutes, before they skated off with Josie in between them. 

“At least she’ll have fun.” You remarked as you finished tying your laces, giving Javier a sideways look. “All this teasing and I’m sure I’m going to be the one to bust my ass.” 

“Karma.” He clicked his tongue against his teeth and shot you a look as he laced up his shoes. “You’re going to give me a complex, baby.” 

“And what kind of complex is that, hmm?” You arched a brow. “Because I noticed two of those mothers sizing you up like a piece of cake.” 

 Javier huffed, shaking his head. “Yeah, like the fathers weren’t ogling you.” 

“They just can’t handle how hot we are.” You remarked as you stood up, testing your balance on the skates. “Okay, it is like riding a bike.” You said as you rolled backwards, shifting your weight as you slowly turned in a circle. “And for the record,” You told him, rolling towards him and planting your hands on his shoulders as you leaned forward, lips close to his ear. “You’re my favorite slice of cake.” 

He took your hands as you stood back up, letting you pull him to his feet. He was not quite as steady on his feet as you were, but after a couple minutes of slowly gliding over the carpeted floor outside the rink, he was ready to join the madhouse of children and parents rolling around the skating rink. 

Javier interlaced his fingers with yours as you skated side-by-side around the outside of the rink, maneuvering around slow moving children who were using PVC roller walkers to make their way around the rink. 

Once you both caught up with Monica and Nadia, you traded off with them, letting Josie skate in between you and Javier so they could go off and have a proper date. You were thrilled that she had found someone to spend time with. As much as you loved having her around the house to help (and pay penance for the drama she caused) you mostly just wanted her to be happy. She was a good kid, and you wanted the world for her. Just like you wanted the world for your own flesh and blood. 

“Mommy, I’m thirsty!” Josie complained. 

“We should probably check on Sofia anyways.” You pointed out, guiding the three of you towards the exit point. 

“I’m waiting for Connie to tell us they’re going to try to adopt another kid,” Javier quipped, “I’m afraid Sofia’s given her baby fever all over again.” 

You laughed, “Does Steve want another one?”

“No.” 

“Two is already a lot to handle.” 

“Yeah, I know.” He gave a pointed look down at Josie who was clinging to his hand. 

“Ditto.” You played with Josie’s curls, “Why don’t you go with daddy to get some punch, sweetheart.” 

“Okay.” She nodded, holding both of her arms up in the air, so Javier had to carry her. You were actually impressed that he was able to carry a squirming four-year-old and skate his way around the rink towards where the refreshments were set up. 

You skated over towards Connie who was settled into a booth with Sofia and Emily, who was not interested in skating with her sister. “Having fun?” You questioned as you slid into the booth across from them. 

“Yeah!” Connie nodded. “I’m so glad so many people decided to come out for this. With how close it’s getting to Halloween, I didn’t know how many people wanted to be out with their kids two Fridays in a row.” 

“Josie’s having a blast.” You grinned. “I think everyone’s having fun.” You looked towards Emily. “Except for someone.” 

“She’s at the stage where she doesn’t want to do anything her sister wants to.” 

“I’m dreading that.” You admitted, peering across the table at the drawing Emily was working. “What’s that?” You asked her. 

“Hunchback.” 

“Oooh, a coloring book.” You said with feigned enthusiasm. “We just got Josie a Beauty and the Beast one the other day.” 

“I like Belle.” Emily beamed. 

“Josie does too.” You looked towards Connie then. “Have you seen Hunchback? It’s intense for a kid.”

Connie made a face and nodded. “I told Steve to watch it first, but he didn’t listen. Liv was terrified. Emily, not so much.” 

You chuckled, “Wildly different kids, huh?”

She nodded, looking towards Emily with a fond smile. “I think this one’s going to end up a politician. I’ve never seen a three-year-old debate the way she does.” 

You shook your head as you laughed, “Tell her to be a lawyer instead. Still corrupt, better pay.” 

“So… how are things?” Connie questioned, folding her arms atop the table as she regarded you with an arched brow. 

You rubbed at the back of your neck, “I mean therapy is definitely helping. Nancy’s really got us working on aspects of our relationship that we didn’t really realize had issues.” 

“Issues?”

“Yeah.” You shrugged. “I mean none of it is really serious, but we’re both… I don’t know, bad at communicating.” 

“Really?”

“I know. Surprise.” You shook your head. “We’ve both shielded each other from a lot of misunderstandings and weird emotions.” You glanced towards the rink, brows furrowed as you sought out Javier amongst the crowd. He had Josie on his shoulders while he chatted with Steve. “I still have bad days,” You admitted to Connie as you looked back at her. “Sofia is so different from Josie. She was such a good baby, but with Sofia it’s just… I don’t know how much of it is actually an issue and how much of it is just my brain telling me its an issue.” 

“Is the medicine helping?” 

You nodded. “Yeah. First week or so it made me super exhausted. But that’s better now.”

“Any other problems?”

“None.” You smirked. “I’m fortunate that those side effects didn’t crop up. I would’ve died.”

“I know I didn’t really know Javi that well before you came to Colombia, but…” Connie shrugged her shoulders. “I’m just very impressed with him.” She gestured towards the skating rink, where Steve and Javier were helping their daughters skate backwards. “I never pictured him as the type of man who would go to therapy for his partner.” 

You smiled as you watched him scoop up Josie as she started to fall backwards in her attempt to skate. He bounced her in his arms, before setting her back on her feet and encouraging her to try again. “He’s a better man than he’s willing to accept.” 

“Honestly, I feel like an idiot.” 

“Why?”

Connie gave you a look, “All those times I tried to set him up with someone.” 

You shrugged, “You were just trying to be a good friend.” 

“But you were right there.” 

You nodded your head slowly. “I was, but… things worked out for the best.” 

“If we’re being honest,” Connie lowered her voice. “I used to think Javier would be a terrible influence on Steve. I mean, I never doubted Steve, but when you spend all that time with someone willing to… you know.” 

“I know you judged me too.” 

Connie made a face, “Just a little bit of judging.” 

You laughed, shaking your head. “No shame in that.” 

“But I’m glad things have worked out for the two of you.” She told you honestly. “I always wanted the best for both of you, I just didn’t realize the best was together.” 

You shrugged, “I mean, neither did we. If you and Steve hadn’t decided to leave, who knows where we’d be right now.” You made a face. “I don’t like any of the alternatives that don’t lead me here.” 

Sofia started fussing in her baby seat and you gestured for Connie to pass the carrier across the table. “Is it too noisy in here for you?” You questioned, as you unstrapped her and picked her up. 

She tried to fit her fist into her mouth, cooing as you sat her on the edge of the table, cradling the back of her head. “She’s started rolling over.” 

“Big milestone.” 

You couldn’t help but smile as Sofia gurgled and waved her slobbery fist at you. “What? You want kisses?” You questioned, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead and then each cheek. “I just can’t believe how fast four months have come and gone.” 

“Almost five.” She pointed out. 

“I can't even believe that Josie is as big as she is. Time’s… moving quickly.” You shook your head slowly. “You’re getting so big.” You scrunched up your nose, leaning in to nuzzle it against her cheek. 

“You’re not bad on those.” Connie quipped and you glanced to your right as Javier rolled towards the table. You scooted over, giving him space to sit down. 

“Worn out?”

“That child can go and go.” He swept his hand over his forehead. “Monica’s got her.” 

“Good.” You leaned towards him and pressed your cheek against his shoulder with a sigh. “We were talking about how big the girls are getting.”

“It’s fuc— freaking crazy.” He corrected himself, glancing towards Emily who was working on deciphering some puzzle on one of the coloring pages. “Though someone seems to think I’m getting crotchety.” 

You snorted, “Well, if you keep using old man words.” 

He squeezed your leg under the table, “Not too old that I’m not willing to learn a few new tricks.” 

Your cheeks burned, but you occupied yourself with your daughter, rather than acknowledging what he’d said. “Just you wait until your father gets you walking early like he did with your sister.” You gave her foot a squeeze as she started kicking them towards you. 

“Gimmie.” Javier held his hands out and you let him take Sofia. “She’s got a strong kick.” He remarked, grimacing a little as her foot knocked into his sternum. “I’m telling you, both of our daughters are going to be soccer players.” 

“How’s Josie enjoying gymnastics?” Connie questioned. 

“Better than ballet.” You rolled your eyes. “The moms aren’t nearly as…”

Javier snorted, “The moms don’t have a pact at gymnastics.” 

“I still don’t get it.” You teased, nudging him in the ribs. 

He turned and pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose. “You must see something.” 

You lifted your hand and brushed your fingers over his forehead, fluffing his hair as you grinned at him. “Yeah, I guess I see a whole lot of something I like.” You pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “I love you.” 

“Love you too, baby.” 

“You’re both disgusting,” Connie remarked with a grin. 

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “Trust me, I know.” You rested your cheek against his shoulder again, watching Javi as he entertained Sofia. 

[imagine-loki]

Caught in his web, Chapter 48

TITLE: Caught in his web CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 48 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki is a crime lord, a very dangerous man in the city. He is owed money, but the man is unable to pay Loki back, so Loki takes his daughter as payment instead.  RATING: M

Chloe’s uneasiness after Loki taking her up the ass was soon gone by morning as Loki showered her in soft kisses and praise.

‘I love you so much, my darling Chloe. You’re my good girl, aren’t you?’ He purred, hugging her close and kissing her gently on the lips.

‘I love you too.’ She smiled against him.

He was very affectionate that morning. Whenever she tried to get out of bed, he would playfully pull her back down, tickling her and nibbling on her neck while growling. She loved that side of him, playful and sweet.

Eventually Loki allowed her to get up so she could go check on Bear. When she came back, Loki was just getting off the phone.

‘Who was that?’ She asked curiously, sitting on the edge of the bed.

‘It was Ben. Just asking what time our meeting is this afternoon.’ Loki groaned and stretched up, then rolled over onto his side and hooked an arm around her.

‘Ben’s nice. I like him and David.’ Chloe smiled and lay down, on Loki’s side.

‘Glad to hear you like my friends.’ He chuckled.

‘When use aren’t speaking about business, that is.’ She corrected.

Chloe’s phone pinged. Loki reached over and grabbed it off the bedside table and handed it to Chloe.

‘Thanks.’

‘Amanda?’ Loki asked.

‘Yep. Asking if I want to go shopping later and to grab dinner… Did you have any plans?’ She looked to Loki.

‘Nope. You go and have fun with your friend. Just don’t stay out too late though and take Ralph with you, have him keep an eye.’ Loki said firmly, sitting up he kissed the top of her head.

‘Why the paranoia? Is there something wrong?’ Chloe frowned.

‘No… I just feel that your father has been awful quiet lately. I just want you to be safe, doll.’ He said softly, smoothing his hand down her back.

‘Ok.’ She nodded.

Loki didn’t want to tell her that the main reason being was he just had a bad feeling in general, so didn’t want to take any unnecessary risks. Especially with Chloe involved.

When Chloe went to get dressed, she went to the bathroom first. A certain part of her was a bit on the tender side… But she tried not to think about that. Loki did make her cum while fucking her up the ass, that was all she would think about. And she knew it would likely get a bit easier and more pleasurable for her the more it happened.

Or she hoped so, anyway.

-

When Chloe went to meet Amanda, Loki headed into his office with Ethan and Samuel. David was already there and so was Ben.

‘Are we allowed to speak business today?’ Ben teased, grinning.

‘Shut up.’ Loki hissed, sitting down behind his desk. ‘What have we got today then?’

‘We have an issue with one of the new girls in the Camden shop. Keeps trying to escape, tried to kill herself too last night. The owner of that shop doesn’t want to keep her because she’s more hassle than she’s worth.’ Ben said.

‘Hmm. Maybe we need to sell her on. Get in touch with our German friends, see if they’re looking to buy right now. I’m sure we can rustle up some more girls to make it worth their while of organising transport to collect. Check around all the shops, check if any of them want rid. Ben, can I leave that up to you to sort? Get some ready for Tuesday.’ Loki asked.

‘Sure thing.’ Ben nodded in agreement.

‘Can we trust them to give us a fair price for the girls? What if we send them over and get pennies worth?’ David said.

‘We can trust them. I know something that could tear them down, they won’t mess us around. We will get more than a fair price. Trust me.’ Loki grinned.

‘Alright, you’re the boss.’

‘Judging by last night, I think Chloe is the boss.’ Ben grinned.

Loki rolled his eyes at them.

‘What is she up to today anyway?’ Ben asked.

‘She’s out shopping with one of her friends. They’re going for dinner too, so I don’t have to rush home.’ Loki sighed.

‘Aww, is your girl not there to cook your dinner.’ Ben pouted, mocking him.

‘You’re walking on thin ice, Barnes.’ Loki growled, pointing at him.

-

Chloe had fun with Amanda. As usual going to town on Loki’s card, spending wayyy more than she probably should’ve. But after last night, Chloe was of the mind frame that if he wanted to do that kind of stuff with her, then he would take a hit on his bank balance in return. Besides, she knew if he was pissed off with how much she spent that she could just suck his cock to get him to forgive her. Not that he was ever angry with how much she spent, he always encouraged it, actually.

But she and her friends always had fun trying to push that limit more and more at every shopping trip.

They went for dinner at a nice Chinese buffet restaurant.

‘Why is Ralph loitering around outside?’ Amanda asked, slurping up some noodles.

‘I dunno. Loki had him come with me and keep an eye. He goes through weird phases where he wants eyes on me, in-case of my father or fuck knows what. Ralph is nice enough though. I feel for him sometimes though, having to follow me about like a dog. Maybe I should get him some takeaway?’

Amanda shrugged. ‘It’s Loki’s money anyway.’

After finishing, Chloe did get a takeaway box and took it out for Ralph. He was very appreciative. They then headed back to the car.

On the way there, they bumped into a familiar face.

‘Hello, darling.’ Ben smiled, stopping when he saw her.

‘Ben, hi! Not seen you in ages!’ Chloe teased, making him laugh.

Chloe noticed Amanda visibly swoon when she introduced her to Ben.

‘Are you ladies finished shopping for the day?’

‘Yeah, just heading home now.’ Chloe nodded.

‘I can give you a lift home, if you’d like? Since I’m heading to meet with Loki anyway.’ He offered.

‘I thought your meeting with him was earlier?’ Chloe asked.

‘It was, but I had to re-arrange.’ Ben smiled.

‘I have Ralph here to take me home, once we drop Amanda off.’

‘Well, it will save Ralph taking Amanda home then having to drop you off, then doubling back across the city to his own home.’ He turned his attention to Ralph. ‘Would that be easier for you, mate?’

‘It’s up to Chloe. I don’t mind at all, Sir.’ Ralph said politely.

‘Alright then. If you’re sure. It does make sense.’ Chloe smiled, she looked to Amanda. ‘That alright with you?’

‘Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow at college.’ Amanda gave Chloe a hug before getting into the car with Ralph.

Ben offered Chloe his arm, being gentlemanly. She accepted it and went along with him happily.

-

Loki was sitting on the sofa in the living room with a whiskey. He was tapping the glass as he checked his watch for what felt like the millionth time.

‘Where is she?’ She muttered to himself.

It was almost nine and he had thought Chloe would’ve been home by now.

He took out his phone and tried calling her, but it went straight to voicemail. He frowned at his phone. ‘Odd.’

Then he thought maybe she had just gone to the cinema and turned it off… So he tried calling Ralph instead.

‘Hi, boss. What’s up?’ Ralph asked cheerily.

‘Is Chloe in the cinema?’ Loki asked.

‘No… She should be home, why?’ Ralph asked, sounding slightly concerned.

‘What? What time did you drop her off?’ Loki stood up quickly, accidentally knocking his whiskey glass off the arm of the sofa in the process and it spilled over the carpet.

‘I… I didn’t. Last I saw her was around half six, in the car park at the shopping centre. She went with Ben, he said he was going to take her home as he had a meeting with you.’

Loki felt his blood run cold.

‘Get. Here. Now.’

[valkyrieofsmut]

Captive Love   19

UF!Sans x Reader (or Frisk if you wanna)

Summary: Sweetheart enjoys flustering Papyrus, and he tries to educate her in the greatest of performers; Mettaton... Aka, share his interests with her. Also... other stuff happens.

A/N: Important stuff! So! While looking through stuff, I looked through the bookmarks to this story (on Ao3, for multiple reasons) and saw a comment in the bookmark saying that they weren't sure why she hadn't gotten her voice back, yet. This is honestly a good question. I guess it wasn't clear enough, I mean, a lot of stuff has happened. I tried to put the speech indicators to show that her voice is getting better, but then she'll yell and scream at Sans or someone on the phone (her idiot boss) and it'll get a bit worse. Also, I did a count of the days (quickly scanning through the whole file so I could be a little off) and at the beginning of the next chapter she's only been there for two weeks (13 days actually) and only been awake for 10 of them. Even if we give the benefit of the doubt and say three weeks (pretty sure that's the time frame I was aiming for about the point they had sex), she's basically gotten her voice back, its just a bit wobbly and squeaky. I dunno 'bout the rest of y'all, but last time I got sick (actually right before I started writing this story) I lost my voice for about a month and a half. I started getting it back after a month, had two weeks of the squeaky voice of a dog toy, and then a week of where it was mostly back, but still wobbly and had to clear my throat a lot because of it cutting out and squeaking. This is for informative purposes, not to be a jerk. Even though I feel like a jerk... lol God damn it! Do you know how hard I tried not to make it so he had a sock thing?! Maybe a preference or soft spot, but not an all out fetish. Like, 'ooo, yeah, those're sexy,' sure, but not, 'oh god, I'm so hard 'cause you're wearing socks!' *sigh* I fail at life... Enjoy an about double length chapter!.

Masterlist      Series Masterlist

Story

Papyrus tries to be... friendly? Maybe. Is that what he's doing? Yes.

Contrary to what Sans had said, the two spent the time until Papyrus came back not having sex, but cuddling and making out. 

“SANS!” Papyrus called from downstairs, knowing too well not to go near his brother’s room unless he was interested in an accidental show. 

Sans pulled back from the kiss he was tangled in with (Y/n), glancing to the door before giving her another kiss and climbing from the bed to go down to his brother. 

(Y/n) laid back, biting her lip and smiling. 

Ok… so it hadn’t started out great, but, really, even if she left now, the sex was amazing, and she wouldn’t have a problem messaging him. Who knew about a relationship, but what they had was pretty sweet. 

A sudden realization hit her. 

What did Sans think of relationships? 

Was it something monsters did? It seemed like they avoided showing that they had feelings or emotions at every turn, and she could see how having a relationship would blow that out of the water. 

Did she want a relationship? 

Yes, sex was nice, and it was nice spending time with him, but… it was entirely different than having a relationship. Right now, they were basically almost friends, with benefits. Maybe closer to fuck buddies who liked hanging out. 

It was a strange gray area to be in. 

(Y/n) stretched and climbed from the bed, hurrying to grab some clothes and head to take a quick shower to wash the smell of sex from her. 

How long had it been since her body had felt so well used? So nicely taken care of? 

...How long had it been since she’d been a willing participant in it becoming this sore? 

She shook her head to get that thought out of her head. 

It didn’t matter, anyway, that bastard was gone, and she was here. 

She needed to enjoy her life. 

She instead focused on washing up, bemoaning that her legs had gotten so hairy and that there was no razer around here to shave. How could she have forgotten to tell Sans to get one when she sent him out for everything and the kitchen sink? 

After her shower, she went into Sans’ room and found the bag he’d brought back on the off chance that he had gotten one and she’d just missed it. 

No luck, though she did find a pair of really cute over the knee socks. They looked like they were either from a halloween display, or from a store that sold punk and goth type clothing, having a print of tiny scattered skull and crossbones, and a bit of lace and back ribbon at the top.

Well… at least they’d cover the hairs on her legs and she wouldn’t be so self conscious about them. 

She pulled on a shirt, the pants she’d originally been wearing, and did her best with her hair before she walked downstairs. 

Papyrus was making a lot of noise in the kitchen, and Sans was nowhere to be seen. 

He must have gone out for something… 

(Y/n) went to the kitchen and stopped next to Papyrus. 

He looked down at her with a suspicious glare, but she responded with a friendly grin. 

Papyrus quickly looked away with a bit of red growing over his cheeks. 

Embarrassment… that’s right; being nice flustered him. 

A mischievous grin lifted her lips. 

This was going to be fun. 

As Papyrus started trying to make the shepherd's pie again, she stood near, pre measuring things and handing them to him. 

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING, HUMAN?!” He demanded, his hands going to rest on his pelvis. 

“He-ping,” she told him, then shot a huge grin. [helping]

Papyrus' sharp teeth gritted hard and he turned away with a glare. 

(Y/n) held back her laughter. 

So much fun. 

As Papyrus was starting to layer, the door opened and Sans came back in. 

“SANS! COME GET YOUR HUMAN! SHE’S UNDERFOOT!” Papyrus demanded. 

Sans entered the kitchen, seeing (Y/n) helpfully handing a bowl of mashed potatoes to his brother, whose skull was glowing across his cheekbones and nasal ridge. 

He stuffed his smokes in his pocket and strolled over to where (Y/n) was grinning at him. He gave her a devious grin back, his sharp teeth flashing at her, and let his tongue trace his golden fang suggestively. 

Sans stepped behind her and wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling behind her ear. "c'mon, sweetheart, stop botherin' my bro an' come in th' other room wit me. i got an idea 'f how ta entertain ya." Sans chuckled at her obviously flustered form against him. “c’mon sweetheart, give ‘im th’ potatoes an’ come wit me.” 

Papyrus took the bowl of potatoes from her and made a disgruntled and disgusted noise as Sans guided (Y/n) to the other room. 

He sat her on the couch and sat next to her, pulling the remote out and putting on a show. 

(Y/n) sniffed the air, noticing a heavier cherry and vanilla smell around Sans. 

"What's that sm-ll?" She asked. 

"what smell?" Sans asked, looking over at her with a brow ridge up. 

"It's on you, like… vanilla, and cherry," she told him. 

"oh," Sans hummed, pulling out a slightly worn box to show her. "that's my smokes."

"You smoke?" She asked in surprise. 

"yeah, sometimes," he murmured, his eyelights flashing to the kitchen. 

(Y/n) mentally shrugged. Smoking was bad, but who knew if it even affected him the same way… He wasn't doing it around her, and at least the smoke smelled good. 

Over all, filed under 'not her business'. 

.

After a dinner filled with Papyrus shooting them disgusted looks from his spot across the table and telling them the 'thrilling adventures' he'd had that day, Papyrus made them stay downstairs to watch Mettaton shows. 

"boss, i don't wanna watch any mettaton stuff," Sans complained. 

"TOO BAD; I'M NOT LETTING YOU TWO WANDER OFF TO YOUR OWN DEVICES! WHO ONLY KNOWS WHAT WOULD HAPPEN THEN!" 

"heh, i know what'd happen," Sans commented, giving (Y/n) a suggestive wink. 

Papyrus gave a put upon sigh and wedged his way between them on the couch. 

"hey, bro, what're ya doin'?!" Sans complained, shuffling out of the way a bit so he didn't get sat on. 

"I DON'T WANT THE TWO OF YOU CANOODELING RIGHT NEXT TO ME!" Papyrus declared. 

"then let us go up ta my room, bro," Sans sighed, managing to hold back his irritation. "simple as that." 

"NO CANOODELING!" Papyrus declared. 

He spent a lot of the shows explaining to (Y/n) how their star, and sometimes only actor, was better than anything humans could possibly have, often spending half a segment explaining the ‘complicated and far superior’ bits. 

After enough time had apparently passed, Papyrus decided it was time to go to bed and ushered them all upstairs. 

As soon as the door closed behind them, Sans let out an irritated breath before looking up at (Y/n) and letting his sharp teeth curl into a predatory grin. 

Heat shot through (Y/n)'s belly, her heart rate going up. 

"c'mere, sweetheart," Sans beckoned her to the bed as he reached it himself. "i have a feelin' yer tongue's been away from mine fer too long…" 

(Y/n) felt a bit of embarrassment mixing with the excitement that was filling her, heat starting to build already. 

"aw, c'mon, sweetness," Sans drew his voice out temptingly, the low tones somehow reminding her already wettening core what he'd done to it earlier and making it clench. "no need ta be so shy noww." 

(Y/n) slowly stepped toward the bed, fluttering filling her belly. 

“there ya go,” Sans praised as she got closer. “that’s it, sweetheart, c’mon closer,” he told her as he knelt on the bed and moved to the middle, sitting on his knees. “wait, this’s gonna be easier if ya take those pants off b’fore ya get up here,” he commented. 

A wave of trepidation fell over her, and she thought through what was happening, trying to be completely sure she was ok with what was about to happen. 

One round of sex and a day of making out, you could… maybe still be friends. Any more than that… who knew… 

“what’s wrong, sweetheart?” Sans asked, his expression turning more toward question than the suggestive thing it had been. 

(Y/n) paused, then reached for her pants and started taking them off. 

“mmm, there ya go, sweetheart,” Sans commented as she started crawling toward him on the bed, his expression slipping back to that one of suggestive intent. 

She made her way up, then paused in front of him, biting her lip as she reached under her shirt and worked her bra off without taking off her shirt. Her attention was drawn back to Sans at the lustful noise he made as she threw it to the floor behind her. 

“i didn’t know ya knew magic, sweetheart,” Sans chuckled, leaning forward and grabbing her by the hips to draw her closer to him. His hands slid down her thighs, moving around them, then up the backs to take her panties and start dragging them down her thighs. 

As she lifted one knee so he could get them off, he caught sight of the dark fabric on her calf and twisted a little around her to get a better look. 

Yes, there were little skull and crossbones distributed every so often over the black of the fabric, a bit of lace nearly hidden behind her knee. 

“fuck,” Sans murmured softly, his phalanges lingering over the soft fabric as he helped her off with her panties. 

(Y/n) looked at him in question, following his gaze, her leg registering where he was touching. 

Oh. 

Oh!

Ooooooooh… 

He’d bought those… maybe not even purposely for her… 

Here she was wearing them, and if the tent in his shorts was anything to go by, he wholeheartedly approved. 

Sans tried to stop the drool from dripping between his teeth as his fingers took in the feel of her soft leg inside of the socks, tracing the muscles that filled out the fabric and looking sexier than he had imagined. 

He hadn’t even dared to hope that she’d willingly wear them, let alone put them on herself, yet here she was, calves covered in the socks, looking sexy enough that if she pressed her knees together, her legs would look good enough to- he’d have to hold on to the backs of her thighs so that he could brace himself to thrust, keeping her feet together with his knees and her knees together with his hands- 

Sans blinked his sockets to clear his fantasy, gripping the backs of her thighs and pulling her up into his lap, pausing only to get his shorts out of the way. Then he was pulling her up over him, her knees on the outsides of his hips, angling and positioning them both so that as he eased her to sit down, she felt the head of his cock brushing against her. 

(Y/n) bit her lip, her body giving all the signals that it was interested and ready, and one of his hands slipped between them to guide his cock, brushing against her wet folds until he found her opening. 

The hand on her hip gripped harder as he encouraged her down, sliding into her, and his face turned into a grimace of pleasure. 

“nnn, fuck, ya feel jus’ ‘s good ‘s last time…” He told her through gasped breaths. “fuuuuck, sweetheart… ya a’ways this hot an’ wet, or is this jus’ fer me?” He groaned as she sank down, her thighs finally meeting where his shorts had crumpled around his femurs. 

“Sans,” she whispered, her hands clenching around the back of his shirt, grabbing at his ribs and making him growl needily. 

One of his hands buried itself in her hair, tangling and fisting in it to point her face to his, his teeth pressing against her lips and parting them to let his tongue meet hers, and she moaned, her hips following the motions he was guiding her through to get a bit of movement going. 

It was a bit awkward due to the angle, and only served to make them both want more. 

Sans' hand moved from her hip to give a rough grope to her ass, holding her against him as he turned and laid over top of her. 

His pelvis stayed against her as he knelt up, his hands running down her calves, the roughness of his phalanges catching a little at her socks. 

He gave a squeeze to her calves, then lifted them up over his shoulders, nuzzling them, his hands stroking over them. 

His hands slid down to her thighs, gripping them tightly before starting to move his pelvis. 

He rocked gently for a moment, but soon leaned forward, pushing her knees closer to her chest as he did, and it seemed to open her up to him more, making her able to feel every inch of him as he moved inside her. 

Sans held her thighs tight against his ribs, keeping her calves on his shoulders and nuzzling against them as he thrust. They felt so soft under his phalanges, against his cheekbone-

His eyelights stayed on her as he panted for breath, thrusting into her rhythmically. He could feel her hands grabbing and twisting around his shorts, trying to pull him into her as her hips gave little bucks trying to meet his. 

fuck... 

She was so cute- the socks were adorable, and they made her look even cuter… 

His tongue reached out and traced over her calf, making him grunt as she clenched around him. “oh, sweetheart,” he groaned softly, nipping at her calf. 

A noise escaped (Y/n), but she tried to swallow it, trying to keep quiet as he sped up. 

Sans gripped her thighs tightly, pushing into her faster and faster, his pointed teeth digging into her sock covered calf, his tongue brushing over it. 

(Y/n) gasped, her mouth dropped open as she tried to stay quiet, her body bouncing as he pushed into her harder. 

“fuck, sweetheart- ya squeezin’ ‘round me like that- ya like what ‘m doin’ ta ya?” He asked, watching her face. 

(Y/n) nodded, her hand tightening in the fabric of his shorts. 

“yeah?”

She nodded again as she gasped for air, trying desperately not to make noise to piss off the other skeleton in the house, starting to get light headed at how much oxygen she was taking in. 

“nnn, fuck- y’re so sweet, sweetheart,” he told her, gulping in air as he tightened his hands, holding her steady as he pounded into her. 

She was going to have bruises there, though it couldn’t seem to matter to her mind. He was hitting every perfect place inside her- it felt so good- he felt so perfect inside her- every spot lighting up with pleasure- so amazing- 

And then he bit her calf again, his tongue trailing over the sock that made her seem even more adorable and sweet. 

“Ungh-” (Y/n) squeaked, holding back the other noises as she came, her body tightening and pulsing around Sans as she softly moaned his name. 

“uuuuuuugh, sweetheart- tha’s right, come fer me- nnn- ya feel s’good- fuck- fuckfuckfuck-!” He growled out as he fell over the edge and followed her into bliss, his jaw clenched tight to keep quiet. He didn’t need his brother bursting in and ruining the mood. 

As they came down, Sans leaned forward and kissed her, his tongue and teeth moving with her mouth, small noises leaving them both. 

Sans chuckled after a moment, his hands squeezing her ass with her legs now wrapped around him. 

“What’s so funny?” She asked, watching his face. 

“nothin’, i jus’ feel bad fer humans ’s all. any guy who doesn’t get ta feel ‘is girl keep pullin’ at ‘im like this, really. can’t ‘magine. jus’ feels so good. c’mere, sweetness,” he coaxed, though he was the one who did all the work of wrapping his arms around her and rolling so that she was again on top of him before he gave a content sigh. 

“Their loss,” (Y/n) murmured back with a chuckle of her own. 

They started drifting off, but (Y/n) would swear she heard Sans say, “‘m glad i found ya… some a th’ best luck in my life…”

 A/N: Uh... In case it wasn't clear... Yes, Sans was thinking of pressing Sweetheart's calves together and fucking the space between near her knees... um... while she was wearing the socks... I- I don't know... I was going to have him just think about licking or nipping, but, in the moment that's what came out instead... Sans does what he wants when I write, apparently... Sans: damn straight i do, doll!

[starker-stories]

Piercing Play

Title: Piercing Play Link: AO3 Square Filled: G-1 Ship: Starker, Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: E Major Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply Piercings, Tongue Piercings, Ear Piercings, Nipple Piercings, Corset Piercings, Dom/sub Undertones, Aftercare, Possessive Tony Stark

Summary: “Your body retracts in anticipation of the pain,” he explained as he took the forceps from Peter’s hand. “If you did somehow manage to push the needle through — put your tongue out, Peter.” Peter did. Tony situated the forceps, gently pressing them together. “You’d likely flinch…” He took the needle in his right hand and held it above Peter’s tongue, in the center of the forceps opening. “And wind up with a crooked, at best,” he paused, “piercing.” He pushed the needle through.

Created for @mcukinkbingo​

Peter had been fascinated by the idea ever since he saw pictures online. But he healed quickly. Perhaps too quickly. Experiments would have to be performed before he brought the idea up to Tony. But that alone, was another whole issue. What if Tony didn’t want to do it? Worse, what if Tony thought he was weird for wanting it done? Still, experimentation didn’t commit to anything, right? He could just accumulate data and then never act on them.

∼∼∼∼∼

Tony stared back at Peter as he went around him to get his breakfast. He smiled.

“What?” Peter said, offended at the scrutiny.

Tony kept smiling cryptically.

“I found it in your jewelry drawer!”

“Um hmm.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Why is it weird for me to wear it when you used to!”

“Never said it was weird, Pete. I was just surprised. You’re so stubborn about me buying you jewelry. A one carat fancy red diamond… it’s ostentatious even for me.”

“A diamond? I thought it was, I dunno, a garnet? That’s May’s birthstone.”

“No, baby. It’s a diamond. Red’s the rarest color. I bought it… I don’t know why… on a whim. I’ve never worn it. I haven’t worn an earring since I was at MIT. But the clarity and color are perfect. Because it’s a single earring, not a set, I got it for one point two instead of the four it’s worth, even as a single stone. I forgot all about it until this morning. When’d you get your ear pierced?”

“One point two… You mean million?” Peter squeaked and went to remove the gold stud.

“Keep it. It’s pretty on you.” He bent over and put a kiss behind Peter’s ear, behind the earring. Tony smirked. “You know I can’t resist it when you wear my colors.”

Peter blushed. “I don’t know if it’ll last or I’ll heal out of it. I did it myself when I first woke up. This morning.” He paused, screwing up his face. “Alone. In Bed. Again.”

“Sorry. Finally solved the problem I’ve been having with the glove. I’m gonna crash while you’re in class.” He downed the rest of his orange juice and started toward the bedroom. He stopped and looked back at Peter and smiled again, taking in the gold stud with its sparkling red diamond that was in his ear. “That’ll probably stay as long as you keep it in. As soon as you take it out, though, it’ll close up because of your healing.”

“I can keep it?” Peter asked.

“Yep. You finally let me give you something expensive,” he teased.

∼∼∼∼∼

Tony was right. The earring stayed as long as he left it through the hole. When he took it out, it closed up even before he could put the earring back in. He had to pierce it all over again.

So Peter knew that a piercing, left in, would stay. Even knowing that, it took longer for him to work up the nerve to do the next experiment. He’d read that piercings didn’t always stay, even for non-enhanced people. In a lot of places, they simply worked their way back out. Especially if the piercing was through a flat part of the body, instead of a dangly bit like an earlobe. If a normal human rejected a piercing like that, what hope did a spider-bitten one have?

Then, as always, there was the issue of finding out if Tony was interested.

Maybe it was because he felt bold in the mornings. He waited until Tony would be tired. When he had been working through the night again. Peter laid everything out on the glass topped table and propped the magnifying mirror up where he could see himself.

“Ow ow ow.” The ear piercing didn’t hurt like that! He was being a baby. He couldn’t be hurt. Peter tried again. “OUCH!”

Tony walked into the dining room, watched the situation, and finally gave himself away by chuckling.

Peter jumped. He hadn’t realized he’d been being watched. “It’s not funny!”

“You do realize if you do that, you’re not going to be able to kiss me for two weeks,” Tony said, amused.

“I don’t get infections,” Peter said, irritatedly.

“It’s a little harder to do to yourself than an earlobe.”

“Yes! It shouldn’t be.”

“Mmm.” Tony came and sat in the chair next to Peter’s at the dining table. He turned until they were facing each other. “Your body retracts in anticipation of the pain,” he explained as he took the forceps from Peter’s hand. “If you did somehow manage to push the needle through — put your tongue out, Peter.” Peter did. Tony situated the forceps, gently pressing them together. “You’d likely flinch…” He took the needle in his right hand and held it above Peter’s tongue, in the center of the forceps opening. “And wind up with a crooked, at best,” he paused, “piercing.” He pushed the needle through.

The sound Peter made was garbled around the protruding needle through his tongue, but the expression on his face was clear. And noticed by Tony. It was anything but pain.

He pushed the stainless steel barbell through Peter’s tongue. “That’ll do until I can get you something better to replace it. But baby, you can’t just be buying your jewelry from,” he took in the quality of the piercing kit spread on the table, “Ebay.”

“Will it stay?” Peter asked thickly. He stuck his tongue out and looked at it in the mirror.

“Same as your ear. As long as something’s in it, it’ll stay,” Tony said. He got up and brought Peter a glass of crushed ice. “Suck on this to keep the swelling down.”

“You knew how to do that,” Peter said, his words broken by bouts of sucking on ice.

“Um hmm.” Tony cleaned up the table. “I know you can’t get an infection, but you should still do the mouthwash thing. About once an hour. You’ll probably be healed around the barbell by afternoon.”

“That wasn’t your first time,” Peter said, a little surprised.

“Nope.” Tony wrapped the needle in a pad of foil until it wouldn’t poke through, then sealed it in a baggie then threw it away. “This some college thing?” Tony asked. “It’s mainstream now, isn’t it?”

“There’s… I know a few people who have tongue piercings. Or lip ones. It looked… interesting,” Peter explained.

“When I was in school, it was just the punks and goths… and the kinky.”

Peter sideeyed Tony. “Your entire life is in the media somewhere. If you were punk or goth, there’d be pictures for me to laugh at.”

“One would think,” Tony said, noncommittally.

Peter rolled his eyes. “And I had this whole… thing… planned.”

Tony smiled. “I’ll bet. I could keep playing dumb and let you. It’d be cute.”

“I hate you.”

“If you hate me, baby…” Tony inched closer, running the palms of his hands up Peter’s thighs. He stopped when they were framing the prominent bulge in Peter’s jeans. He leaned closer and whispered against the red diamond earring in Peter’s ear. “Who’s going to push needles through your pretty pale pink skin?”

“They won’t last, I’ve tried on my arm,” Peter said, his words gasped on heavy breaths.

“There has to be a flap of skin for a piercing to be permanent,” Tony explained. “Surface piercings last for a few months or so, if they’re done right. But that’s on ordinary people. You’ll probably heal it out, even if I put the right jewelry in.”

“Oh,” Peter said, disappointed. He could already tell that his tongue was healing.

“That’s not a bad thing though. If it lasted a few hours, that would be enough. Then,” Tony said, a wicked gleam in his eye, “I would get to start all over on skin that hadn’t been toughened and desensitized by repeated piercings.”

∼∼∼∼∼

It became a thing for them. A special night. Peter would suggest a new place to pierce and Tony would oblige. The tongue piercing didn’t affect him. But once piercing moved off of the dining chair and into the bedroom, Tony was more than just obliging. And Peter was getting more out of the experience than a new piece of expensive jewelry.

When Tony pierced him, it was more than just a matter of pushing a needle through skin. Tony’s hands wandered before finally piercing a hole in Peter’s body. No need to worry about infection, he kissed the place his needle went. He kissed Peter’s lips as he dragged a needle across his skin, watching the red line form and immediately disappear. He drew abstract patterns while Peter moaned and panted in anticipation of Tony forcing the needle through the chosen place.

Tony pressed his thigh against Peter’s jeans-covered crotch allowing him to frot against it until he came in his pants. Which is how he came twice when his nipples were pierced. Tony came after, while he sucked on Peter’s nipples and played with the rings he’d just put in.

Peter learned that there was a type of piercing called ‘spider bites’, which was of course impossible not to resist. Tony made two holes close to each other, right underneath Peter’s bottom lip line, at the corner of his mouth. After putting in the twin rings, Tony fucked his face, moaning at the sensation of the spider bites and Peter’s tongue piercing.

There was more piercing on his earlobes, yielding two on each side. But that wasn’t the end of protruding bits of flesh where the rings would stay in. He had his traguses done. Two helix and one forward helix. His jewelry was small and delicate, but made of gold with precious gems.

Tony found out that if he coated the needle with an alkali solution, it slowed Peter’s healing. His belly button piercing stayed in over a day. But he woke up and found the banana ring lying on the bed underneath him.

“Baby, you have an outie. That makes it basically a surface one. Not gonna last,” Tony explained.

Peter still pouted over losing the beautiful, diamond encrusted jewelry.

“I’ll have the stones remounted in something that will stay.”

A week later, Tony pushed a very long needle through the center of Peter’s hand. He carefully ran it between the bones of his second and ring finger. The end of the bar that was in his palm was a tiny little ball with one small diamond in it. It wouldn’t interfere with the function of Peter’s hand at all. But the end that was on the back of his hand was a laser carved peridot, Peter’s birthstone. It was surrounded by a ring of diamonds. The carving on Peter’s right hand was an elaborate T. The one on his left was an S. Any mark Tony wanted to put on Peter never stayed. This would.

∼∼∼∼∼

A couple months later, Tony found a set of four pictures on his desk. Surface piercings all. And he wanted all four done in a single session. It would take over an hour to complete the patterns, if not longer. By the time he finished the last, the first would be rejected by Peter’s body. They had brief sessions where Tony tried out various things to extend the wound time. When he got it up to three hours, he agreed to do the corset piercings Peter wanted.

∼∼∼∼∼

The guest room had a massage table in the center. It was brightly lit, but only with dozens and dozens of candles. Tony had a surgical tray set up with specially coated needles, forceps, gentian violet, scissors and several rolls of ribbon.

∼∼∼∼∼

Peter was riding an endorphin high. It stopped hurting eight needles into their session. But that couldn’t take away from the excitement of needle after needle piercing twice through each pinch of skin. The pop of it going in. The push and drag of it coming out.

His breathing was heavy but steady. He held it as soon as Tony lightly touched the sharp point to his skin, before he pushed it in. A little warning to him that the piercing was coming.

Thirty-six times. Alternating sides on his back. Moving each pair in towards his spine a little closer then out again, forming an hourglass shape. There was a tug on each ring as the bead snapped in. Then the quiet hiss as the ribbons were threaded through. Tony tugged on them, pulling them tight as he laced them in an intricate pattern. Peter can feel the skin pinched together toward his spine as he pulls the ribbons tighter.

“Sit, baby,” Tony said gently. He guided him carefully from laying on his stomach to sitting up on the table. “You okay, Pete?”

Peter hummed his assent.

“Words, baby.”

“Yes, Tony.” Peter’s voice was soft and floating, and as high as he was.

“Look up now, precious.”

Peter tilted his head up. The neck lacing piercings were more painful, but Tony was very skilled with the needle. He tried to get it over with as soon as possible.

“Too fast,” Peter said, panting.

“Hurts?”

Peter shook his head. “Too fast. Can’t feel it enough.”

Tony smirked. “All right baby. These are shallow. I’ll take my time.” He listened for Peter’s fast and heavy breaths. Not strained. Just filled with pleasure. He looked down at Peter’s hard cock. “Gonna have to let me give you a Jacob’s ladder one of these times. “I don’t want any genital piercings. I’ve looked at them, they don’t appeal to me. I don’t want anything to get in the way.”

“All right, baby. But if you change your mind, I think you’d like the sensation.”

“I like this sensation,” Peter said between bouts of panting. “So shut up.”

Tony gave a little laugh. “All right.” He pushed two more needles into Peter’s throat. “I’ll just keep putting beautiful things into your beautiful body so that I know you’re mine,” he purred.

Peter whimpered as the last needles went in on either side of his Adam’s apple.

“Rings now, baby.” Tony never used anything less than gold. Each corset ring was custom made. Each little captive bead, no matter how small, had a little TS engraved in it. For Peter, piercing was about sensation. For Tony it was about ownership.

Yet for each, it was also the other’s.

Peter took pride in every little mark on his jewelry. Sometimes it was hidden, engraved on the bar of a barbell where only Peter and Tony knew it existed. Other times it was blatantly obvious, like on Peter’s hands. Every mark claimed him as Tony’s. He’d be sitting in class and get hard just by looking at the backs of his hands. Peter was owned. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

The sensation Peter was addicted to, Tony was addicted to causing. He loved feeling the resistance as the needle went in. But more than that, he loved the little gasping moan that Peter gave. Sometimes, if it was a thicker needle, or in a more sensitive place, that moan became a cry of intense pleasure and Peter came just from Tony’s needle, no frotting or handjob required. The kid could come just from Tony making Peter’s body his.

“There, Pete. All laced up,” he said after he tied the knot on his chest. “Are you sure you want to go on to the next?”

“Yes Tony.” Peter’s voice was desperate, the way he sounded when he was right on the edge of coming and couldn’t quite get there.

“Which one next, abs or feet?”

“Abs. Please save my feet for last,” Peter whimpered.

It was another long piercing. Lots of tiny little rings to be laced together. Peter chose a set of colors, unlike the plain black on his back and neck. Tony paused halfway done and looked over Peter’s shoulder at his back lacings. They were all still in place, even though they’d usually be coming out by now.

Tony caught a pinch of skin over Peter’s gorgeous abs in his forceps. Instead of immediately doing the piercing, he used multiple pairs of forceps and clicked them together on all of the outer run of positions at once.

“I’ll give you the slow ones you want when I do the center row. These are mine, baby.” Tony’s hands were fast and he used a needle gauge two sizes larger than was required. They made such a lovely, visible hole.

Fast. One right after another. Not even giving Peter time to take a breath between. His attempts to gasp in air only made his head spin. Tony was rock hard against Peter’s own erection as he straddled his thighs.

“Oh baby,” he groaned, looking at the needles sticking out of Peter’s flesh. The drips of blood running down from each. But he didn’t take long to appreciate the visuals. Just as fast he threaded the golden rings back through the holes and snapped their beads into place, giving them a very deliberate tug and twist as he did.

Releasing the forceps was like releasing nipple clamps. Peter cried out as full sensation rushed back into the pinched skin. “Oh Tony!” But his erection never flagged. Quite the opposite. He was straining hard in his briefs. Tony was naked, started out that way. Peter always liked a little bit of clothes on during the sessions.

When Peter screamed Tony came all over the kid’s stomach. Including on some of his fresh abs piercings. The sudden force of his orgasm had him falling forward, as he often did, laying down on Peter’s body. That scream wasn’t pleasurable for either of them. In his moment of passion, Tony had forgotten about the pulled tight corset piercings on Peter’s back.

“Oh fuck, baby, I’m sorry,” Tony said, lifting up fast.

“Check!” Peter said, frantically worried. “Did they pull out?” He sat up on the massage table.

Tony looked over at them. All the ribbons and rings were still in place. “Everything’s still beautiful, darling, just like you,” he said kissing Peter’s shoulder. “Pete, just because you found four pictures doesn’t mean you need all four done at once. Baby, it’s too much for you.”

“No it’s not, Tony.”

“What if I simply laced the edges on your abs, and we see about doing one foot. I know that was something you really wanted,” he said, tenderly. “It will look like little ballet slippers on your feet. But I only want to do one today. Both on another day. Cinderella lost his other slipper at the ball.” Tony lifted Peter’s face and gave him a slow, deep kiss as he reached down and caressed his erection in his briefs.

Peter sighed, disappointed with himself, but the cold sweat he was breaking out in told him that Tony was right. It was too much for one session. “I wanted it so badly.”

“Baby, you’ve been amazing. So much better than anyone else ever could’ve been. Each one of these that you’ve chosen is a full session, Pete. And you’ve done three.” Tony placed one tray of instruments on the floor and sat down beside it. He raised his knee and tapped the back of Peter’s calf. “Come on, my handsome prince. Let me see if the slipper you left behind at the ball fits that gorgeous foot of yours.”

Peter balanced his foot on Tony’s thigh, pointing his toes downward. “Okay Prince Charming.”

Tony smiled up at his boy. “Five down either side and one just below your middle toe. Can you do that, precious?”

Peter bit his lip. “Um hmm. Yes Tony.” His hand replaced where Tony’s had been and he gently massaged himself through his underwear.

The skin on the top of Peter’s foot was tight over the structure of it. A forceps wasn’t able to grasp enough to be effective. Tony laid out eleven curved needles. He slowly worked each of them through Peter’s thin, delicate skin on top of Peter’s foot. Followed by a slender gauge captive gold bead ring. The color laces would change the look. White or black and they’d look like laces for Converse. But in the broad pink ribbon does indeed make Peter’s foot look like a ballet or ballroom slipper. Tony ties a pretty bow right at the bottom of Peter’s middle toe. Meeting his gaze, he kisses his sweet prince’s foot then lets it dangle loosely, helping to arch the boy’s foot into pointing his toes gracefully downward.

Tony rose and knelt behind Peter on the massage table. “Do you feel how beautiful you are, Peter?” he asked, pressing lightly up against the laced pierced corset on his back. He reached around the front of the boy and massaged his erection through his briefs with deliberateness. He looked down Peter’s front over his shoulder. His come was splattered there. But on the left side was a smaller corset piercing in black and pink. With a finger under the boy’s chin, he leaned it back to rest on his shoulder and kissed the side of Peter’s neck as his massaging became stroking.

He ran his fingertips over the piercings on the side of the boy’s neck. Tony placed a kiss over them, and he reached into Peter’s underwear and began to jerk him off. “Look down, baby. Look at your foot. It’s so beautiful, just like the rest of you.”

“Oh,” he gasped out at both the sight and the movement of Tony’s hand. “Tony… it’s…”

“Perfect, darling, but not nearly as perfect as you are. You were so good for me, Pete.” He felt Peter’s cock jump at his praise. “No one has ever been so good for me.” The boy pulsed in his hand. Throbbed. Tensed. And came gently. Shuddering with it. Gasping softly, his lips parted, they and his cheeks flushed red. “My Peter. Such an absolutely perfect… model.” Tony hesitated at using the word sub. That was a discussion they hadn’t had yet. But with the way that Peter got a rush from the pain and the submission, the way he’d sub drop after he came and needed Tony so desperately — which was one of the things he loved most about the D/s scene. How needy his sub always became. How needy Peter became. How the boy clung to him. Whimpering against his chest, sometimes crying, clinging, shuddering, looking to Tony as the only solid, real thing in his world.

Peter was already seeking out the comfort of being held. “Shh, baby. I’m going to unlace your back first. Just a little while longer.”

“Do you have to?” Peter’s words were shaking. Tony could see the signs of the kid’s drop approaching. “They’ll fall out soon.”

“You’re right, Pete. If you’re comfortable with me holding you with them still in…”

“I like that,” Peter said quietly.

“Mmm,” Tony hummed low in his throat. He liked it too. But he was always careful not to assume anything when it came to Peter’s limits. He gathered his boy into his lap, pulling him close.

“You can just stay here. You don’t have to pose to get the pictures you want, sweetheart,” Tony murmured as he put soft little kisses on Peter’s temple. “FRIDAY has the pictures and video. We can sort through it later.”

Peter wasn’t quite ready to have the discussion that his desire brought up. Ever since he realized the reaction he had to the pain of piercing, he’d been reading. For some people it was only the endorphin rush of piercing that they sought out, nothing more. He knew that wasn’t all it was for him. The little marks of Tony’s possessiveness (ownership?) that he carried on each item of jewelry was an important part of it. The prominent marks etched into the peridot’s on his hands. The way that his friends in college, even those into piercings and tattoos, looked at his hand piercings with a little shock and even horror.

He’s been asked what he’s become to refer to as the question. And it’s answer is probably yes. But it scared him. What if Tony’s not into this in the same way as he is. What if he is and is into so much more than Peter’s ready to explore yet.

This part of it… what they called ‘aftercare’, it’s something that Tony always did for him. He held him close in his arms. He pressed soft kisses to the top of his head. Tony whispered quiet praise and appreciation. And he seemed to hesitate just before certain words might come out. Words that would put definition to things they weren’t ready to define yet.

But words that they were both becoming unable to deny for much longer. Especially after that night.

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

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

On Demand

This is for a request made by two readers who have chosen not to be tagged. I hope that you like it <3 Please let me know what you guys think in the reblogs/comments! 💜

Warnings: noncon sex (masturbation, voyeuristic elements, oral, intercourse). 

This is dark!Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: The reader becomes a camgirl to ease her financial woes but money is soon the least of her problems.

Your stomach was doing somersaults. Your chest filled with fire. You couldn’t keep your leg from shaking as you waited for Megan. You glanced around her apartment enviously. She had upgraded in the last year. It was a mansion compared to your tiny city bachelor which was little better than a closet. She interrupted your covetous inner monologue as she entered in an ivory silk robe trimmed with black lace.

“Hey, sorry. Session went a bit long today,” Her cheeks were still flush as she swept around the couch. She dropped onto the cushion next to you, her arm draped over the back as she sat at an angle to face you. “But five hundred in an hour isn’t something to complain about.”

“Is it really that much?” You asked, your finger dancing along your throat nervously.

“On a good day. A bad day, I still make at least half that. You just gotta know how to keep them interested,” She chuckled. “These lonely men aren’t too hard to string along.”

You glanced away nervously and cleared your throat. This was more awkward than you expected. You were never this uptight around Megan. She usually brought out the freak in you. “Oh…” You leaned your chin in your hand. “They cut back my hours at work again.”

“Bastards,” She bent forward and turned on the cushion as she reached under the polished coffee table. She pulled out a joint and leaned back, “Want some?”

“You know I don’t do that,” You peeked over to watch her light up. “It makes me paranoid.”

“You? Paranoid? Ha,” She scoffed playfully before puffing deeply.

“Meg,” You said in a low tone, “Please.”

“So, you looking for another job?” She asked as the smoke seeped from her lips.

“I’m always looking for another job,” You grumbled, “But no one’s biting.”

She nodded and thought as she took another drag. Her eyes narrowed and she tilted her head. “Spit it out.”

“I...I dunno, I was thinking…” You clasped your hands together and shifted on the cushion, “How does all of it work?”

“Oh my god,” She sat forward sharply and tossed her lighter on the table, the joint disposed of in the square ashtray. “You’re kidding me, Y/N?”

“I’m just wondering,” You put your hands up defensively, “I’ve got rent in two weeks and my next check isn’t going to cut it. I’m kinda up shit’s creek here. I gotta consider my options.”

“Well, it’s quite simple. You set your own hours; you have control over everything. Money’s up front,” She snapped her fingers, “They pay before you even touch yourself just to see you. From there, they can give more as things progress but there’s a paywall to each tier; rubbing, fingering, toy play. The more they pay, the further they get.”

Your cheeks were burning. “Hmm,” You bit your lip as you thought, “I...I don’t think I could. I mean…” You sighed, “I still haven’t, you know…”

“I thought you and Jordan?” She lifted a brow.

“No, he was too pushy about it,” You leaned back and crossed your arms, “It’s kinda why things didn’t work out.”

“Well, you don’t need to be sexually active. You just need to know how to work with yourself,” She smirked, “And don’t tell me you don’t get lonely in your cloister.”

“Hey!” You laughed despite yourself. “Well,” You let out a deep breath, “I guess it would be worth a try?”

“Girl, it would be amazing,” She trilled, “You know, if you put in your description that your a virgin, you could ask for twice the standard rate. Hell, you’d have rent in a single session. Even two months’.”

You nodded and uncrossed your arms. You stretched out your fingers and examined the wrinkles along your knuckles. Three rejection emails this morning; they always decided to go with another candidate. Even if you did get something new in the next week, your first pay wouldn’t be in until after rent day. You gulped, accepting that one day you would look back on this dark time and laugh. Well, hopefully.

“Can you help me get set up?” You asked quietly.

“Babe, I gonna do more than that,” Megan flipped her long hair over her shoulder. “I’m gonna do your nails and we’re going to buy you some cute lingerie. Oooh, and I’ll show you how to contour...but, if we’re going for the pure look, the less, the better. And we’ll have to do something about your apartment.”

“Okay, okay,” You poked her shoulder, “One thing at a time. Let’s get the account started first and then I can embrace the crippling dread of what I’m about to do.”

-

This was it. A little less pathetic than your usual Saturday night. Your bed was draped in a pale pink comforter, the frilly pillows added to the facade. A tripod held the webcam aimed at the perky bed, your computer on a folding table nearby. Megan had covered the expenses of your new gig and you would repay her directly after with the money made from it. Well, if you made anything. You still weren’t sure this was going to work.

You stared in the mirror at yourself. A white baby doll hid little of your figure and you looked the dreamlike innocent. Well, that’s what you were, really. None of your boyfriends had gotten past using their mouths or even fingers. Often you stopped them from the latter as they were never very skilled and it was more uncomfortable that pleasing. You shook out your arms as you glanced at the time. Just do it. The sooner you began, the sooner you’d be done.

You climbed onto the bed, positioning yourself on your knees just as Megan had shown you. Of course she hadn’t given you a real show, merely a fully-clothed walk through. The test screen came on and reflected you perfectly. The mic showed that it was working and you took one last shuddered breath to brace yourself. You forced a smile and hit ‘start’.

You waited, preening yourself as Megan had demonstrated. One viewer popped up with a bloop. Then a second. Then ten! You began to rub your hands up and down your torso, pulling apart the baby doll for a peak of your stomach and the lace panties below. When it reached twenty, you began the real show. You wiggled out of your panties, turning to display your ass as you did. You sat back and spread your legs, vaguely following the little comments on the text feed and typing back here and there. A little post-it of suggested responses by Megan stuck to the frame of the screen.

Your nerves were rattling but you just pretended you were alone; that this was all for you. Not them. You thought of the money and your rent; even at the first paywall you had enough to cover what you didn’t have. As the next was approaching, a peculiar beep sounded and a private chat request popped up. You kept your fingers on your clit as you leaned over to read the attached message and green letters highlighting the offer.

‘Hey, baby girl, how about a private show?’ Viewer has offered $1000

Your lips fell open and your motion stuttered, your fingers slipping between your folds carelessly. Holy shit! It was a lot of money and well, it saved you from pleasuring yourself in front of all these viewers. Just one; that was easy. You looked to the counter in the session; already fifty. You accepted the offer and the screen went black; a message in the chat alerting all that you had gone private for the rest of the show.

A new screen popped up, similar to the first. You were there, looking back, legs splayed, your hand on your pussy. Another notification blipped requesting that the private viewer be allowed voice chat. You accepted again. The thousand dollars was already in your wallet and it would be a lot easier than typing and reading.

“Hello?” You called to the camera curiously.

“Hey, baby girl,” The deep voice was oddly alluring. Not the expected gristly voice of a middle-aged pervert. “Shall we continue?”

“Of course, honey,” You mimicked Megan’s example as best you could, “Do you like this?” You set to drawing circles around your clit again. An audible purr came from the speakers. You leaned back as the heat started to build. You hadn’t really expected to enjoy it. “Mmmm,” You let out a moan, louder than intended.

“Can you go inside, baby?” The viewer asked, and you hesitated. You fingered yourself sometimes but not often. You took a breath and coated your fingers in your arousal as you felt along to your entrance. “Are you really a virgin?” The question had your mouth agape. Your eyes widened as you weren’t quite ready to discuss that with a stranger. Even as you were about to fuck yourself for one. “You are,” He hummed contentedly.

“Y-yes,” You rasped out.

“You’re so precious, baby, how is that possible?” His voice was too much, it was driving you wild. He actually sounded attractive; it would be better if you clung to that fantasy.

“I...I’m saving it for someone special,” You lied. A rush ran through you at the words.

“Mm-hmm,” You could hear his smirk. You pushed your fingers inside and his sigh was audible. Your own was unintentional. It actually felt nice. You dropped your head back, almost forgetting that you were being watched as your palm brushed against your bud. “Yeah, baby, are you going to cum for me? Already?”

You whimpered and your thighs tingled. You fought to keep your legs apart as the rapture mounted. Your chest rose and fell as you felt the orgasm rising. You had thought it would be much harder than this. Hell, it usually took you a lot longer to cum. Something about his voice, about him watching, maybe even the money, had given you an unnatural high. You cried out as you reached the peak all so suddenly. Your legs shot out straight and you heard a grunt from your laptop. “That’s it, baby girl.”

As you stilled your hand, you shivered, you fingers still inside of you. “Can you take the rest off for me, baby girl?” You kinda liked the nickname, it helped you dissociate.

You slowly removed your hand, your fingers soaked. You sat up and nodded, speechless as the after waves shook you. You reached back and unclasped the babydoll and slid the straps down your shoulders. You tits fell free and you heard the man breathing heavily. You slipped out of the sheer lingerie and tossed it aside, once more on your knees as you tried to figure out what to do next.

“What kind of toys do you have, baby?” You blinked and stared down at the line of devices behind you. Megan had bought an array of beginner’s toy. Nothing too big. Mostly just vibes, some nipple clamps. You hadn’t wanted anything going inside of you really. You held up the small purple vibe. “That’s good, baby girl. I wanna see you cum again.”

You sat back on your ass and opened your legs, bending them to display your pussy to him. “Just like that, yeah.” He purred. You leaned back on one hand and clicked the vibe on. You reached down and pressed the buzzing toy to your overwrought clit. “You’ve got beautiful tits, baby.”

You giggled into a moan as the sensations began to radiate from your bud. Your feet arched as your muscles tightened. Sparks trickled along your flesh and you were panting once more. You barely noticed the other heavy breaths coming from the laptop. You could guess what the man was doing on the other end. What else would he do? You squeaked as you came, biting down on your lip as you pushed your head forward and held the vibe against yourself.

You fell back without thinking and rolled onto your side, the vibe still on and pressed to your clit. You could hear the groans from the speaker. “Such a nice ass,” He muttered, his voice curtailed by a sudden grunt and hiss. You didn’t need to see him to know he had cum, too. But it didn’t feel gross like you thought it would; it was intoxicating.

“Will you be mine, baby girl?” He asked after a airy silence; the two of you trapped in a rush of adrenaline.

“What?” You slowly pushed yourself up to face the camera.

“Just mine. Private shows only. Same rate as tonight.” His voice was smokey, “Gratuities every time you cum for me. “

“I...are you sure?” You crossed your legs in front of you. You weren’t exactly planning on do this again.

“A girl like you shouldn’t be shared,” He said. “So?”

“Um, okay,” You smiled, “I think I could do that…”

“Call me ‘Captain’, baby doll,” He offered in a dusky lilt.

“Captain,” You uttered with a pout, “Do you want more?”

-

You should just delete the app. Your phone hadn’t stopped for the last hour. You were with Megan enjoying a drink and a new life of financial stability but the cost was starting to wear on you. ‘Captain’ as he called himself, wouldn’t stop messaging you. It had been over a month since you had began this little online foray into scandal. It was exciting to be admired but as of late, it was growing quite irritating. Still, you couldn’t really complain as your savings account had grown exponentially.

At first, it was twice a week but now it was almost every other night. You were quite honestly exhausted. You had even fallen asleep on camera last night. And now he was nagging you like your mother during that trip you had taken to Spain in college. You silenced your phone and drained your cocktail as you smiled at Megan. You signaled to the waiter for a refill.

“So, how’s it going? Great?” She asked emphatically.

“Pretty good, I guess,” You shrugged, “You?”

“The usual. I made almost twenty-five hundred last night,” She giggled, “First time I’ve ever done anything anally.”

“Jesus,” You yelped, “Meg, you can’t just say shit like that.” The waiter set down another electric blue drink in front of you and you thanked him.

“Well, you know, it was kinda fun,” She grinned, “You making out okay?”

“Yeah, I just…” You ran your finger around the rim of your glass, “This one guy, he pays a thousand per private show but I don’t know if I can keep up.”

“Shit, Y/N, do we need to get you fucked?” She laughed, “I mean, maybe if you really loosened up--”

“Ugh, don’t,” You sipped from your cocktail. “It’s like every other night. I was late for work this morning.”

“Do you really need to keep working? A thousand per show, three times a week?” She sang, “Sound better than minimum wage at the electronics shop.”

“I don’t plan on this being my career,” You shook your head, “Get a nice nest egg going until I can find something better than retail.”

“The money, it can be addicting. Moreso the feeling,” She breathed, “It might just be creeps on the internet, but I’ve never felt more appreciated.”

“Hmm, yeah,” You picked up your phone and checked the endless queue of notifications. “Definitely feel needed.”

You swiped open your phone and opened the app. ‘Sorry, I’m just having some drinks with a friend. Can I message you later?’ You hoped the acknowledgement would placate him for the time being.

‘Okay, baby girl.’ The single message floated before you shortly before another popped up. ‘Later then.’

You tucked away your phone, content that you could enjoy your night. You took another drink and leaned your elbow on the table. 

“Well, maybe it is a bit addicting,” You joked as Megan was glued to her own phone. 

She laughed and showed you the dick pic she had just been sent. You covered her screen and you both fell into a fit of laughter. A girls’ night was a great relief from your new normal.

-

Another tedious day in retail. As none of your co-workers knew the meaning of work ethic, you were spending a whole hour of your shift re-organizing and pricing the headsets. It was simple enough work and gave you a reason to not be standing at your till doing nothing. You’re life had grown monotonous again as you had found the Captain mysteriously silent. The last session you had together had been a whole week ago. You hadn’t yet gone back for another public show.

Tearing your worries away from your extracurricular work, you finished re-arranging the hooks. You ran to print out new tags and returned to the section to find a customer staring at your newly tidied display.

“Did you need some help?” You asked the man. His blue eyes squinted as he looked along the hooks of nearly identical headsets. His dirty blonde hair and beard framed his chiseled face handsomely as he turned to glance at you. He didn’t resemble your typical gamer.

“Actually, I might just,” He smiled and you tried not to blanch. His voice sounded so familiar. Very familiar. “I don’t really know what I’m looking for. My buddy bought me one of these video game systems and he can’t hear me.”

“Well, when it comes to headsets, you get what you pay for.” You tried to hide your discomfort; your inner dialogue running wild. It couldn’t be. He said he lived in New York and you had only admitted to living up north. He couldn’t possibly be in the same city as you. Couldn’t possibly know where you worked. And besides, he didn’t seem to recognize you. “If you want something decent, you should start around the eighty dollar mark. I’d suggest Astro as a brand, but Turtle Beach is good enough if you’re just a beginner.”

He nodded and looked back to the headsets. You turned your attention to the price tags in your hand and began switching them out with the old ones. You glanced over as you felt an unusual warmth hovering over you and found the man watching you as you went about your work. 

“I can’t decide. Which one’s would you suggest?” Again, his voice was so terrifyingly familiar.

“Um,” You turned to the shelf and pulled of the basic Astro’s. They were your default choice for the clueless. “These one. If you don’t mind the price tag, it’s worth it.”

“Thanks,” He took them from you, his fingers brushing against you. “I’ll give them a try.”

He nodded and you clung to your customer service tone. You wished him a good day as he walked away and turned to finish up your task. It was just a coincidence. You were imagining things. Besides, you could barely remember exactly was the Captain’s voice sounded like.

-

Coincidentally, you had a message waiting from the Captain when you got out of work. As you changed into your street shoes you read the single line; ‘can I see you tonight?’ You replied with ‘sure’ a surge of relief washing over you. He was still just a faceless man thousands of miles away. You slipped on your jacket and hooked your purse over your shoulder. You were already getting excited.

Back at your apartment, you set up your bed for a show. You plain grey bedding replaced with the dainty pink sheets and frilly duvet. The tripod at the end of the bed, the light you had bought angled towards you to give a better view. You opened your laptop and typed a message to the Captain. ‘Hey, where are you?’ You stared at his icon, waiting for it to turn green, but it remained grey and lifeless. Your shoulders dropped and you sighed. Maybe something had come up.

You felt stupid in the new lingerie. The white corset, see-through bra and panties, thigh-high stocks and a pair of platform heels. A whole thirty minutes and you shut your laptop. You moved it aside and were about to start stripping the bed when a knock came at the door. Who the fuck? You grabbed the plain terry cloth robe slung over the back of the chair and covered yourself. You approached the door down the narrow hallway and unlocked it, opening it just a crack. 

You gasped and slammed it back shut as you saw the recognized the unexpected guest. You were too slow and weak to keep him from entering. It was the same man from the store. He swiftly pinned you against the opposite wall and kicked the door closed behind him, dropping a bag at his feet as he seized you. 

“Sorry I’m late,” He said in a low tone.

“It--it is you,” You gaped up at him, his hands firm on your shoulders. “How did you…?”

“Shhh,” He raised a hand to press a finger to your lips. “You’re still gonna put on a show for me, baby girl,” He licked his lips as he leaned in, “Rather with me. Same rate as usual.”

“Get out,” You shoved his hand away from your mouth, “You’re crazy. Get off of me! Go!”

“Baby girl, I thought you wanted some fun tonight,” He forced you away from the wall and pushed you towards the main room of you apartment. Your bedroom, living room, and kitchen conjoined in an affordable open concept. You heard the door lock before he followed behind you, his hand on your back as he guided you forward.

“Please, don’t do this,” You whined as you turned to face him, “I’ll give the money back...as much as I have left.”

“I don’t want the money,” He chuckled, “I want what you’ve been saving for me, baby girl.”

You gulped. His broad figure blocked the hallway as he crossed his arms. You glanced over to the folding table where your laptop sat and seized your cell phone from beside it. He was on you in a moment, easily ripping the device from your hand. He released you sharply and smashed it on the corner of the table, nearly tipping it. He tossed it across the room and huffed.

“Why don’t you do it, hmm? Try to get past me and see what happens.” He challenged as he pushed his shoulders back. “You think you’re fast enough?”

You stared at him as your teeth chattered. You hung your head in an act of submission but quickly dove around him. You couldn’t even get past him before he had his arm around your stomach, your legs kicking out desperately. His other hand went to the knot of your robe and easily untied it. He grabbed onto the robe as you struggled and tore it from your body as you stumbled to your knees.

“One more try, baby girl,” He teased and you stood, reaching for the door frame of the hall as you teetered in the platforms. He had you in an instant, lifting you off your feet as he pulled you back into the room. “You’re cute.” He praised, “Feisty.”

“Let me go!” You yelped as you clawed at his thick arms.

“Let you go? You’re mine, baby girl,” His hot breath glossed over your hair, “I paid for you, fair and square.”

He twisted and shoved you towards the bed. You stumbled onto it as you wobbled in your heels. As you righted yourself, you heard him walk back down the hall. He returned with the bag he had brought in with him. His bright eyes burned you as he watched you rise to your feet. 

“Sit,” He pointed to you, “Or I’ll make you.” You did as he said, the fear crawling up your spine. “Now, this can be easy or hard...and baby girl, I want you to enjoy your first time. You’ve waited so long.”

You dug your fingers into the duvet as you watched him set the bag down in the only chair. He unzipped it and pulled out a camcorder. He crossed to the tripod and removed your webcam, replacing it with his own camera. He clicked it on and you watched the light flash signaling that it was recording. He adjusted the angle and stepped back, looking over it to where you sat on the bed.

“We can start as usual,” He said, gesturing to the bed. “Go on. We gotta get you warmed up, baby doll.” You swallowed and stared at him. Then into the camera. You glanced to the door once more and you heard his sigh. “Y/N, really, let’s stop with the games?”

You turned back to him in shock. “How do you know my name?” Your voice cracked.

“I’ve seen so much of you, baby girl, a name hardly matters,” He smirked and moved the bag off the chair. He sat down and once more waved you over to the bed. “Go on. I like the little outfit but a body like yours doesn’t need any decoration.” You slowly brought your foot up on your knee and slipped out of the platform heel. You pulled the other off and stood, fingers under the top of your stocking. “Look at me, baby, come closer.” He flicked his fingers, “Smile for the camera.”

You bit down and set to rolling down your stockings one at a time. As you bent down, you heard a low growl. Your tits threatened to spill from your bra, though it offered little coverage as it was. You stood straight and slowly untied the laces of the corset until it went slack. You shimmied out of it, your vision blurred as you stared at the far wall. You couldn’t look at him. You just couldn’t. 

As you unclasped your bra, he hissed and you let the straps fall down your arms and the cups folded onto the floor. You hooked your thumbs in your panties and he tutted. “Turn around,” He urged, “Let me see that ass of yours.” You obeyed, your movement jagged, and slowly pushed the lace down your thighs. You bent until they were past your knees and they slid to your feet. You stepped out of them and spun back. “On the bed,” He ordered.

You sat back and slowly pushed yourself back on the bed until you were in the middle. He nodded, a simple but overt command. You knew what he wanted. And as much as the situation frightened you, you wanted it too. You were wet and wanting. You needed release if only to quell the suffocating wave of fear.

You laid back as you spread your legs. “I wanna see your face, baby doll,” He warned and you cursed silently. You sat back up, bending your legs as you leaned on one arm. You slowly slid your hand down your stomach and hovered over your pussy. You pushed your fingers down, grazing your clit as you delved between your folds. You trembled at the sensation. How were you so wet?

You began to rub yourself, biting down on your tongue as you held your breath. Even so you couldn’t hold back the rush of nerves. The stirring of the tide as it wrapped you up. Your back arched as you exhaled, unable to hold back as your heart raced. You could almost forget that you weren’t alone. You whined as your body got the best of you and you came. Your head lolled back and you gasped, rubbing yourself through your climax.

You fell back as you panted heavily. You could hear him moving but he was upon you before you could react. The bed shifted as his hands ran the length of your legs. He gripped your thighs and you felt his nose tickle along your pelvis. You lifted your head as he nuzzled you, your hands fluttering down as you tried to wave him away. He easily ignored you as his hot breath crept lower. You squeak as his lips brushed your pussy.

“It’s okay, baby doll,” His blue eyes flashed up to your face, “Just relax.”

He bent his head and his tongue flicked over your clit. You mewled and arched into him. You couldn’t help it. You could barely thinking as your overly sensitive bud thrummed. As his tongue went deeper your voice caught in your throat. He pushed your legs apart as he dove into you, lulling your body with only his mouth. It wasn’t long before you entire being was spasming as an orgasm rattled you.

He slowly raised himself up, sitting back on his knees as he pressed his fingers along your pussy. You bucked in surprise, still recovering from the surge of pleasure. He poked around your entrance and slowly pushed a finger inside. You felt your walls contract around him and he shoved another finger in. You moaned in a mixture of pain and bliss. 

“Oh, you really are a virgin, baby girl.” You closed your eyes in shame as he felt around, “Your so tight.”

He removed his hand and licked your juices from his fingers as he stood. He began to undress as you laid prone before him. Your head fell to the side and you stared at the door. Even if you could leave, you weren’t sure you had the strength left in you. Completely naked, he approached the bed and turned your body. You offered no resistance as he moved you, retreating to the camera to check the angle. You were shaking; in ecstasy and fear. This was it. It was going to be taken from you and there was nothing you could do.

You watched him approach. His cock was huge. The most you had ever done was a blow job and you weren’t even sure you could get him in your mouth. You pushed yourself up on your elbows as he climbed up on the side of the bed, parting your legs to get in between. You were suddenly frantic, the adrenaline filling you with a second wind. He caught your legs behind the knees and pulled you closer.

He draped your thighs on top of his as he bent his legs beneath himself. You tried to pull away but he kept you in place. He held your hip with one hand and his other went to your pussy. He played with you again, dipping his finger inside once more. You squirmed, reaching out to the duvet above your head. There was nothing there to save you.

“Shhh, baby doll, it’s okay,” He continued to explore your walls, “We’ll go slow.”

He pulled out his finger and ran his fingers along your pussy. He grabbed his cock and spread your juices along his length. He pressed his tip to your folds and rubbed it back and forth, from clit to your entrance. He lined himself up at last and shifted a little closer. You brought your hands up to shove him away, his torso a wall of muscle. 

“Please, I’m not ready.”

“You feel ready to me,” He purred and you felt his head stretching you as he pressed inside slowly.

You hissed and he went deeper, a little at a time. He pulled your body to him as he pushed further, your pelvis tilted as he entered you. Your nails dug into his abs and tears filled your eyes as you felt him reach the thin barrier. You took a breath and he sighed as you felt it break. You let out a withdrawn whimper and he continued on without pause. You sniffed as he stretched you painfully, reaching his limit as he forced himself inside.

He stayed at his hilt and bent over you, placing a breathy kiss on your lips. “Baby girl, it’s okay,” He whispered, “You’re doing so good.” He pressed his pelvis to you, “You’re taking all of me. You feel that. You’re made for me.”

You were shaking, the tears streaming down your temples. He pulled back and you exhaled at the relief but he pushed back in and you gasped. He kept his thrusts careful at first, easing himself in and out as you whimpered beneath him. He sat back and gazed down at you as your face and body contorted against him. The more his cock filled you, the better it felt, the agony fading to fervor.

“That’s it,” He sped up just a touch, his thumb pressing down on your clit as his hand stretched over your pelvis. “Is that better, baby girl?”

You pressed your thighs around him as he rocked into you. Your eyes rolled back as a shock flowed up your spine. You bit your lip as you tried to resist it. You could barely feel the pain anymore as fire licked at your flesh. “M-m-m…” You stuttered, your hands kneading mindlessly at your chest, “M-more.”

You were surprised by the very word but it had risen so naturally. He groaned deliciously and his motion picked up. He plunged into you without restraint. You were like a ragdoll, your body at his mercy. His thumb sent chills through you as he kept rubbing your bud, an orgasm melding into the endless euphoria. The noises escaping you were inhuman; rabid.

“Ah, baby doll, you’re so good,” He breathed.

His thrusts grew even more rapacious as he hammered into you. You clenched your jaw as you dared to glance down at him. The sight of his cock entering you had you once more crying out in delight. Another orgasm took hold of you. Not even the hint of blood along his pelvis could deter you.

He bent forward once more and slid his arms under you, drawing you up so that your chest was against his. He moved your body up and down his cock. His blue eyes found yours and you couldn’t look away. His irises were on fire as he grunted. You hugged him with your legs, clinging to his shoulders as you came again. You were starting to lose count.

“I’m going to cum, baby girl,” He mumbled through his excess, “I can’t--”

He threw his head back and you felt a spurt of warmth within you. He let his head hang back for a moment before he looked to you and slowly lowered you to the bed. He stayed inside of you, looking down at your vulnerable body. His hand glided over your skin, leaving goosebumps in their stead.

“Don’t worry, baby doll,” He cupped your breasts and bowed his head between them, “We’ve got all night.”

[wordsintimeandspace]

Better With You (4/6)

Due to a petty feud between their respective department heads, Crowley and Aziraphale have been hiding their friendship for months. When they’re suddenly stuck in lockdown amidst a pandemic, Crowley is not coping well. Thankfully, Aziraphale is there for him - but their changing relationship means that keeping secrets from their bosses only becomes more of a challenge.

Crowley/Aziraphale, rated M (for chapter 4). Read on tumblr or AO3.

When Crowley woke, he felt more rested than he had in a very long time. The bed was warm and comfortable as he snuggled deeper into the blanket. He took a deep breath, and the faint trace of a foreign washing powder on the sheets finally reminded him why exactly he woke feeling rested and comfortable instead of feeling like shit.

He was in Aziraphale’s flat. Not only that, he was in Aziraphale’s bed, and he could feel a warm body pressed right against his shoulder. The sudden closeness after the weeks of isolation made Crowley’s head spin.

At some point last night they had managed to pull apart from their lazy kissing, much too Crowley’s disdain, but Aziraphale had insisted that they should eat some dinner. Afterwards Aziraphale had kissed him again, just like he’d promised he would, and they had stumbled into Aziraphale’s bedroom. For the first time in weeks sleep had claimed Crowley almost instantly, washing over him like a wave as soon as his head had hit the pillow.

Last night, he had been way too exhausted to think about anything else but sleeping, but now Crowley couldn’t help but remember Aziraphale’s kisses, both the soft, gentle ones and the ones that went deeper, more passionate. He remembered Aziraphale’s slowly exploring hands as well, the way his fingers had scraped over his scalp and his palms had pressed against his back where his shirt had ridden up. He wanted to get Aziraphale’s hands back onto his body. Heat coiled low in Crowley’s belly at the thought, and he sucked in a sharp breath.

Crowley wasn’t quite used to this feeling - as much as he enjoyed sex on occasion, he could count the number of people to whom he’d felt this exact kind of attraction to on one hand. If it did occur, especially so early in a new relationship, it was usually overwhelming enough that he didn’t quite know what to do with it.

So instead of rolling over and pressing his hips against Aziraphale’s warm body, chasing for friction, Crowley stayed where he was and simply opened his eyes.

Aziraphale was sitting in bed next to him, thigh pressed against Crowley’s shoulder, a book in his hands and his ridiculous glasses perched on the tip of his nose. He looked over at Crowley immediately, lips curling into a soft smile.

“Good morning, my dear,” he said.

"Morning. How long was I asleep?" Crowley asked with a gravelly voice, blinking against the too bright light streaming through the windows.

"It's half past ten, if that answers your question."

"Ugh.” He ran a hand over his face. “Haven't slept that long in a while."

"Looks like you needed it."

"Mhm." The urge to touch Aziraphale properly finally became overbearing, and Crowley rolled over, slinging an arm over Aziraphale's lap and resting his forehead against his thigh. That he could actually touch Aziraphale now whenever he felt the urge was nothing short of astonishing. He heard paper rustling as Aziraphale set his book aside, and a moment later there was a hand in his hair, scratching gently along his scalp and down to the nape of his neck. A shiver ran down Crowley’s spine and he let out a content hum.

“Did you sleep well?” Aziraphale asked, so gentle and quiet that it nearly lulled Crowley back to sleep.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, closing his eyes as Aziraphale continued to pet his hair. “And you?”

“Wonderfully. It was a pleasure to hold you, darling.”

Crowley let out a strangled sound from the back of his throat, tightening his grip around Aziraphale’s hips. Aziraphale was going to kill him eventually, if he continued to say things like that. Aziraphale chuckled above him, a happy little sound that made Crowley’s heart soar.

"This feels weird," Crowley finally said, as soon as he trusted his own voice again.

"What does, darling?"

"Being happy. When the world outside is still going to shit."

Aziraphale was quiet for a moment. "I know. But there's nothing else we can do."

"Guess not."

"The best we can do is to keep us and others safe by just staying put."

Crowley cracked an eye open, smirking up at Aziraphale. "Staying put, eh? Is that your way of saying that you want to keep me in bed all day, angel?"

Aziraphale laughed again, tightening his grip in Crowley’s hair for just a moment. It was enough to send a shiver down Crowley’s spine. “As tempting as that is, I think breakfast is in order first. I have been watching you sleep for a few hours now and I’m getting a bit peckish.”

“You could have gotten up, you know.”

“And leave you all alone? Absolutely not.”

Reluctantly, Crowley pulled away from Aziraphale. He rolled on his back, looking up to him. Heat rushed to his cheeks. “Look, what happened yesterday doesn’t mean I need supervision 24/7 now,” he said, squirming under Aziraphale’s attentive gaze. “I’m alright, really. No need to coddle me.”

Aziraphale only smiled down at him. "I'm not coddling,” he said softly. “But you've seen my books - I simply like to be careful with things that are precious to me."

Crowley let out a groan and buried his face in his hands. Yep, this was definitely going to kill him. "Fuck, you're a sap. I should have known you're a sap."

“Yes, darling,” Aziraphale said with a chuckle. “I’m afraid you’ll have to get used to that. Come on, breakfast now.”

Crowley didn’t protest as Aziraphale pried his hands away from his face and pulled him out of bed. As soon as they were upright Aziraphale’s arms were around him, soft belly pressed against Crowley’s lanky frame. Their lips slotted together like it was the most natural thing in the world. They got lost in the kiss for a while, quietly exploring each other’s mouths as they held each other close.

Crowley grinned as they eventually pulled apart. “I’m not the breakfast you had in mind, am I?” he asked.

“No, you’re a menace,” Aziraphale huffed, but he was smiling, so Crowley only snickered as Aziraphale finally ushered him out of the bedroom.

It was terribly domestic, standing in Aziraphale’s kitchen in their pyjamas with sleep rumpled hair, dancing around each other and stealing kisses as Crowley made tea and toast and Aziraphale scrambled eggs in the pan. As soon as they sat down at the table with their plates Crowley realized that he was actually hungry and scarfed down his breakfast in a matter of minutes, while Aziraphale took each bite carefully, savouring the taste, letting out pleased little hums. Crowley smiled to himself, happy to sip his tea and watch Aziraphale eat. It was good that some things didn’t change between them.

“What do you want to do today, my dear?” Aziraphale asked when he was finally done and pushed the plates aside.

“Dunno.” Crowley stretched his arms above his head, wrinkling his nose. “I think I need a shower first.”

Aziraphale regarded him with a careful look and was quiet long enough that Crowley started to squirm in his seat. “You know,” Aziraphale started slowly, reaching for Crowley’s hand that rested between them on the table. “I have a perfectly comfortable bathtub as well.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow at him. “Oh?”

Gently, Aziraphale lifted Crowley’s hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Crowley shivered at the soft caress. “Yes. Would you allow me to run you a bath? Take care of you?”

Crowley’s heart skipped a beat. The notion of Aziraphale wanting to take care of him after Crowley had always been left to fend for himself for as long as he could remember was both exhilarating and completely overwhelming. He suddenly felt achingly vulnerable, sitting there while Aziraphale’s piercing blue eyes never left his face. Aziraphale had always read him like a book, so there was no way Crowley could hide how much he yearned for exactly that. Crowley realized with a start what sort of power Aziraphale held over him. The thought should have been terrifying, maybe, but it only made Crowley’s head swim in the best possible way. Aziraphale could easily use all these things against him, but instead he showed him nothing but love and kindness, offering what Crowley wanted and needed without him even having to ask for it. Crowley let out a shuddering breath.

“Yes, please,” he finally managed to croak out, and was rewarded with a blinding smile on Aziraphale’s lips.

“Wonderful.”

“But I want you to join me,” Crowley blurted out before he could stop himself.

Aziraphale went still. He slowly lowered Crowley’s hand onto the table and Crowley’s stomach dropped. “Crowley, I think we should talk about a few things,” he said with a frown.

“I’m sorry, I-” Crowley stammered, but Aziraphale just went on.

“I did say that you should take all the time you need for this conversation, but I think I need to understand what being demisexual means for you specifically. Just so I know what you’re comfortable with. I don’t want to overstep any boundaries on accident.”

Heat rushed into Crowley’s cheeks. “I- I did not mean it like that, when I asked you to join me,” he spluttered. “I just want to be close to you. Touch you. And I don’t mind being naked around people I trust, or I wouldn’t have asked.”

Aziraphale’s eyes were shining. “I cherish your trust in me,” Aziraphale said softly.

Crowley tore his gaze away from Aziraphale’s face, blushing even deeper. “I’m- yeah. Course I trust you. And, um, I’m generally comfortable with the stuff we’ve been doing. Cuddling. Kissing. Kissing is great. And, um, sexual attraction or not, I still like sex. Just for the record. With, err, the right person. I just need to go slow, sometimes.”

“And do you think I could be the right person?” Aziraphale asked, his voice calm and even. He was really just asking, Crowley realized with a start. There was no expectation, no hidden hope - all the things that could easily make Crowley too uncomfortable to try these things. He let out a long breath and got to his feet, leaning down to Aziraphale to cup his round cheeks in his hands.

“Aziraphale,” he breathed out. “You’re the most right person that has ever existed on this planet.”

Aziraphale’s lips twitched. “And you say I’m the sap.”

Crowley groaned. “You are. And you’re already rubbing off on me. You’re a terrible influence, angel.”

“Nonsense. No matter how much you like to pretend otherwise, you’re already sweet all on your own, aren’t you?” Aziraphale asked, his eyes sparkling.

Crowley pulled him closer, burying his nose in Aziraphale’s soft white curls to escape his gaze. “Hnk, yeah, well,” he mumbled. “Maybe. Don’t tell anyone.”

“I would never,” Aziraphale reassured him, wrapping his arms around Crowley’s waist.

“Come on then. Bath now. You don’t want to make empty promises, do you?”

“Of course not. Come along, my dear.”

Aziraphale led him into the bathroom, where Crowley leaned against the sink as he watched Aziraphale fuss first over the temperature of the water and then over his impressive collection of bath supplements. Soon steam was rising in the air, along with the soothing smell of lavender, and Aziraphale stepped away from the tub while he let the water in. He stopped right in front of Crowley, grabbing the hem of Crowley’s shirt.

“Can I take this off?” he asked. As soon as Crowley nodded his consent, Aziraphale pulled the shirt over his head. Crowley shivered as Aziraphale ran his hands down Crowley’s side, and held his breath as they came to a stop on his hips. Aziraphale gave him some time, his thumbs drawing small circles onto Crowley’s skin until finally Crowley relaxed and let out a breath.

Aziraphale smiled. “This as well?” he asked, curling his fingers into the soft fabric of Crowley’s pyjama bottoms.

“Yeah,” Crowley croaked, heart skipping a beat as Aziraphale slid both his pyjamas and his boxers down his hips. Crowley stepped out of them, squirming a little after he was suddenly naked while Aziraphale still had to lose one of his too many layers.

“Beautiful,” Aziraphale breathed out, running his fingers up Crowley’s sides and over his shoulders, pulling him down enough to press a kiss to his lips. “Get into the bath, dear, before you get cold.”

Crowley complied and stepped into the tub, letting out a groan of pleasure as he submerged into the hot water and the pile of bubbles. It was the perfect temperature, and he stretched out in the comfortably large tub, closing his eyes for a second.

“Comfortable?” Aziraphale asked.

Crowley opened his eyes again. Aziraphale was still fully dressed, and that just wouldn’t do. “Almost. Strip and get in here, angel.”

Aziraphale blushed at the command, but obediently started on the buttons of his pyjamas. Crowley watched with bated breath as he popped open one button after another, revealing a soft white undershirt.

“Do you have to stare?” Aziraphale huffed as he slid the shirt off his shoulders and nervously fingered the hem of his undershirt.

“Yes,” Crowley grinned. “Come on, Aziraphale, you can’t possibly be shy now after you just stripped me naked.”

“Fine.” Aziraphale hesitated just a second longer before pulling the shirt over his head. He searched Crowley’s gaze as soon as he sat it down onto the neat pile of clothes, a hint of vulnerability shining in his eyes.

“Angel, you’re gorgeous,” Crowley reassured him, letting his eyes wander over Aziraphale’s naked torso. And he was, every inch of his skin. His thick arms, his sturdy shoulders, and his soft, round belly with faint stretch marks at his sides that were just begging to be kissed. Crowley filed the thought away for another time.

Aziraphale blushed under Crowley’s gaze. “You really think so?”

“Yes,” Crowley breathed out. “Absolutely breathtaking. Honestly, I might swoon at the sight so you better get in here to make sure I don’t drown.”

“Such a romantic, you are,” Aziraphale said with a roll of his eyes, but he finally complied. He pushed his pyjama bottoms off his hips, folding them neatly before stepping towards the tub. Crowley scooted forward so that Aziraphale could slip into the bath behind him. As soon as he was settled Aziraphale reached out to him, urging Crowley to lie back.

Crowley relaxed against him, breath stuttering as he took in all the sensations.

Hugging and cuddling and kissing, everything they’d been doing since the previous day, had already been great. It had been enough to calm the buzzing under Crowley’s skin that constantly longed for touch. But this was even better. It was glorious: Aziraphale’s naked chest against his back, his thighs bracketing him on either side of his hips, one strong arm wrapped around his belly to keep him snug against Aziraphale while the other hand gently stroked his chest.

“How is this?” Aziraphale asked, his voice low and rumbling in Crowley’s ear. “Comfortable?”

“Yesss,” Crowley hissed, closing his eyes in bliss as Aziraphale’s breath ghosted over his neck.

“Good. I’m glad.”

For a while, they just quietly enjoyed each other’s closeness. Crowley blinked wearily as Aziraphale shifted behind him at some point, and then needed a moment to realize that Aziraphale was holding a washcloth over his chest.

“Allow me?” Aziraphale asked, and Crowley gulped, his heart swelling with affection. He could only nod.

Oh so gently, Aziraphale ran the washcloth over Crowley’s skin. He started with his hands, carefully caressing every finger before moving over his palm and his wrist and finally up his arms. Aziraphale moved to Crowley’s neck, slowly dragging the soft fabric of the washcloth over the sensitive skin there, and Crowley bit his lip to stifle a moan. Aziraphale was still so close, his lips pressed to the side of Crowley’s head just over his ear, that he had no doubt Aziraphale heard it anyway. Aziraphale didn’t seem bothered and only moved on to Crowley’s shoulders at the exact same slow and torturous pace. Crowley’s head was spinning by the time he finally moved down Crowley’s chest. He tried not to squirm in Aziraphale’s grip as he moved the washcloth over his nipples, afraid it would make Aziraphale stop, but he couldn’t suppress the quivering sigh as Aziraphale’s touches wandered down his stomach.

It wasn't necessarily sexual, Crowley mused, the gentle touches intended to provide comfort instead of making him all hot and bothered, but his body didn't seem to get the message. He was throbbing by the time Aziraphale moved the washcloth over Crowley’s hips, carefully avoiding where Crowley wanted him most. A whine escaped Crowley’s lips before he could stop it.

“Darling,” Aziraphale whispered in his ear, tightening his grip around Crowley’s waist. “Do you want me to touch you?”

Despite everything, Crowley couldn’t resist a bit of a quip. “You are touching me,” he gasped. “And it’s great, don’t you dare stop.”

Aziraphale laughed, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. “You know what I mean. Do you want me to touch your cock, darling.”

A strangled sound escaped Crowley’s throat as Aziraphale’s words sent a rush of heat through him.

“Or would you rather do it yourself?” Aziraphale continued, his voice low. “Do you want some privacy, or would you let me watch how you bring yourself pleasure?”

Crowley gasped, head swimming with arousal. “No, please. Please touch me,” he begged.

“Will you tell me if you change your mind? Whenever something doesn’t feel good?”

“Yes, yes, yes. Angel, please.” Crowley knew he was whining by now, but he felt like he might combust if he didn’t get Aziraphale’s hand on him right this second. Thankfully, Aziraphale finally took pity on him. A groan escaped Crowley’s lips as Aziraphale wrapped his hand around him.

“You’re beautiful like this,” Aziraphale murmured as he stroked Crowley, slowly and oh so gently. Crowley only barely resisted the urge to buck his hips, trying to get more friction. Aziraphale continued exactly like he had explored the rest of Crowley’s body before: carefully and thoroughly, not changing his unhurried pace until Crowley was panting and squirming in his arms. Only then did he speed up his movements, gripping him tighter, all while murmuring quiet words of praise into Crowley’s ear. Strung up as he was, it didn’t take much more to take Crowley right to the edge.

“Let go, my darling. I’ve got you,” Aziraphale whispered right before he latched his lips onto Crowley’s neck and sucked. Crowley tumbled over the edge as pleasure surged through him, white-hot and blinding. He gasped and shuddered through his release, only vaguely aware of Aziraphale pressing soft kisses to his neck and gently stroking his stomach.

Eventually, Crowley went slack in Aziraphale’s arms as he caught his breath. “Christ, angel,” he finally managed to get out.

Aziraphale chuckled. “Good?” he asked, sounding just a little bit smug.

“Yes. Obviously.” With the last bit of his strength, Crowley turned in Aziraphale’s arms to catch his lips with his. They kissed for a long while, slowly and without hurry, until Crowley couldn’t ignore any longer that Aziraphale was still hard against his hip.

He pulled away from the kiss and reached out for him, but Aziraphale caught his hand and brought it to his lips instead. Gently, he pressed a kiss to Crowley’s knuckles.

“It’s alright,” Aziraphale said quietly, a soft smile on his lips. “That’s for another time, if you want. Rest now, my darling.”

Crowley half-heartedly grumbled a protest, but he was tired, all of a sudden, worn out by the last weeks and the sudden onslaught of emotions since the last day. He collapsed back against Aziraphale’s chest and closed his eyes again, nuzzling into the crook of Aziraphale’s neck. With Aziraphale’s lips pressed to the crown of his head, he let himself be held until the water grew cold.

[dvp95]

under my thumb

pairing: dan howell/phil lester rating: explicit tags: pwp, smut, d/s, power dynamics, established relationship, role reversal, dirty talk, mild degradation/humiliation (use of the word slut but like, fondly), rimming, kink exploration word count: 3.8k summary: Dan gets it. He understands why this turns Phil on every time. There’s nothing abnormal, really, about what they’re doing, but the idea of having Phil fall to pieces at his command is a dizzying one.

you can all blame @intoapuddle​ for requesting a role reversal sequel to good for you, good for you!

read on ao3 or here!

Dan is a bit of a control freak. He knows what he likes and his opinions don’t bend easily, but he doesn’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing. He likes to be in complete control of his work, his public image, his own body. It’s hard for him to sit back and let other people do something that he knows he could do better.

Giving up control doesn’t always come easy for him, but sometimes he needs it.

He’s gone down the familiar rabbithole of research and given Phil the CliffsNotes version after his eyes started to glaze over. He knows the why and how of it - the release of endorphins that make his brain stop buzzing so fucking loudly, the bonelessness that comes afterwards helping him relax into sleep without overthinking everything he’s done in his life - but it’s still a comparatively new thing in their lives.

It’s not always about sex, although it tends to end in it often enough anyway. Sometimes Dan just needs to turn his brain off for a little while and do what Phil wants him to do.

Knowing when he needs it is easy enough - those times where he’s stuck in hazy listlessness and needs help pressing his reset button - and all he really has to do to instigate it is ask, “What do you want me to do right now?”

Phil always tells him. Sometimes he has to think about it first, takes a few moments to get his own head in the right space, and sometimes he’s got something on the tip of his tongue like he’s just been waiting for Dan to ask. Idle chores or self-care routines or sucking his dick, there’s always something that Phil wants done.

Today isn’t one of those days. Today, Dan comes out of the shower to find Phil laying on his stomach, face buried in Dan’s pillow. His fists are probably clenched under it and the muscles in his bare back are tense. Dan hesitates. Phil doesn’t always want company or touch when he’s having a bad morning, and he almost never wants to talk about it until he’s wrangled his thoughts into something he can put into compact words.

Dan doesn’t need to make the decision. Phil turns his face at the sound of the bathroom door closing, and he turns it towards Dan. His eyes are squeezed shut, but he wants Dan’s presence - he’d have turned away if he didn’t.

The room is quiet but for Phil’s deep, steadying breaths and the white noise of their fan. It’s a struggle for Dan not to open his mouth and break it. He could, anyway, could ask what’s wrong or tell him soothing comforts until they both fall back asleep, but Dan holds his tongue. They’ve seen enough of each other’s bad mornings to know when the time to ask is. Sometimes they slip up, and Phil hovers worriedly or Dan starts to ramble, but they don’t hold that against each other.

Dan hangs his towel up and sits on the edge of the bed. His own side of it, that Phil is encroaching upon - possibly to ground himself, possibly just to make it even more obvious that he doesn’t want Dan to leave the room this time. He brushes stray locks of hair off Phil’s forehead and leans down to press his lips to the expanse of it.

Maybe it’s silly to love the sight of a forehead so much. It’s more than just how Phil’s hair frames his face; it’s about everything that went into a decision that seems so much smaller in hindsight. It had felt gargantuan to Phil at the time, Dan knows.

He pulls back and runs his palm over Phil’s wide shoulders, wondering if it would be welcome to map the freckles on it right now.

Phil hums, and Dan can almost feel some of the tension seeping out of Phil’s skin and into his own. He drops his mouth to his favourite of Phil’s shoulder freckles and rubs his thumb in circles.

“Want a massage?” Dan asks, quiet enough that Phil could pretend not to hear him if he wanted to keep existing in silence.

“I dunno,” says Phil. The furrow between his eyebrows gets deeper and his closed eyes scrunch even more. Dan is about to ask if this is a migraine or a bad anxiety morning when Phil inhales again like he’s going to speak. Then, he hesitates. Dan isn’t always the most patient person, but he likes to think he’s got a handle on being what Phil needs in certain situations, so he keeps his mouth shut for the few beats that it takes Phil to say what he wants to.

Dan isn’t really sure what he’s expecting, but it still takes him by surprise when Phil finally cracks an eye open to look up at the general direction of Dan’s face and quietly ask, “Do you want to do that right now?”

He hasn’t asked Dan that before. They’ve joked about it in the handful of weeks that they’ve started to explore this, but Dan hadn’t been sure if Phil would actually want to take the opportunity. He suddenly understands why Phil went quiet for so long, that first time, because all of a sudden Dan has an added responsibility on his shoulders that he isn’t sure how to deal with.

It’s not a bad responsibility. Dan thinks his shoulders can probably handle it just fine.

“I think it would help you relax,” Dan says, digging his thumb into Phil’s lower back a little bit harder. “And I want to do that for you.”

Phil takes a shuddering sort of breath and nods, turning his face back into Dan’s pillow. Dan swings a leg over Phil’s hips and settles on them. The flannel of Phil’s pyjama pants feels a little strange against Dan’s naked lower half, but that’s nothing he isn’t used to. He thinks his balls will survive.

Neither of them are particularly good masseuses, but they know each other’s bodies almost as well as they know their own. It isn’t a hardship for Dan to start at Phil’s neck, where he holds so much tension, and slowly make his way down. He chances putting more pressure on Phil’s shoulders than he normally would, revelling in the muffled groan of a noise beneath him. Phil doesn’t always react well to pain, but Dan had a feeling - backed by some scientifically-dodgy articles he’d found linked in a 2013 kink forum - that he’d appreciate it now in a way he usually doesn’t. Something about the endorphins. Dan can’t remember, because his head is too full of Phil’s pale, freckled back arching into his hands as he works at the sore muscles with slightly more force than necessary.

Dan gets it. He understands why this turns Phil on every time. There’s nothing abnormal, really, about what they’re doing, but the idea of having Phil fall to pieces at his command is a dizzying one.

When Dan’s thumbs reach the base of Phil’s spine, he leans forward and presses his lips just under Phil’s ear. He feels rather than hears Phil’s breath hitch as Dan puts more weight and pressure on him. He bets that Phil can also feel Dan’s cock hardening against his lower back, considering the way he arches.

“Mm, isn’t that better?” Dan hums almost directly into Phil’s ear. He nips lightly at the lobe of it and huffs a laugh when Phil squeaks. “Nice and relaxed now, aren’t you?”

“Mhm.”

Dan digs his blunt nails into Phil’s waist and takes Phil’s earlobe between his teeth again. “Don’t think I heard you, babe,” he says. “Answer me properly when I ask you a question, yeah? It’s bad manners not to.”

A rush goes through Dan’s heady mind when Phil whines and shudders and turns his face to breathe, “Yeah, fuck, that’s. It’s better. Thank you.”

“Is this turning you on?” Dan asks. It’s not a real question. He knows the answer already.

Even if Phil weren’t literally pushing his ass up into Dan, Dan’s not stupid. He sees the flush up Phil’s neck, painting his shoulders pink with it; he knows the rattling inhales of a Phil who wants friction in any way possible and wants it impatiently. There’s just something that gets Dan’s heart rate kicking into high gear at being in a position to fully tease Phil without Phil attempting to wrestle the upper hand from him. So he has to ask.

“Dan,” Phil whines. That’s a gorgeous sound. Dan wants to hear it again as soon as it’s left Phil’s pretty mouth.

Dan lowers his own mouth to Phil’s shoulder and bites down as he holds Phil still under the weight of his body. He doesn’t remind Phil that he needs to answer the question, because Phil is a smart man.

“Ah -” Phil chokes out. His hips try to move under Dan’s, but Dan can’t tell if he’s grinding down or up. Either is unbelievably hot. “Fuck, okay, sorry, yes. Yeah. It turns me on, baby.”

It never ceases to amaze Dan how horny they still are for each other. It feels like some of it should have faded with time - and it has, sort of, in that they don’t need to jump each other every second of the day and showering together is routine and not always a prime groping opportunity - but ten years in and Dan pressing his semi against Phil still electrifies them both.

“I know,” Dan says, smug, as he kisses the shallow teeth marks in Phil’s skin. “That’s so good, saying it for me.”

Phil huffs a little laugh. For a moment, there’s a pause. Then Phil sighs. “I don’t want you to call me good,” he says, too quick like he’s got to get the words out before they run away. “Maybe another time, I dunno.”

“That’s okay. What do you want from me?” Dan asks. He noses into Phil’s neck again and just breathes with him while Phil thinks about the question.

“Just keep,” says Phil, lifting a hand from under Dan’s pillow to gesture vaguely, “doing what you’re doing.”

“Alright, lazy,” Dan teases.

Phil giggles, and Dan’s heart fucking swells at the sound. He tugs lightly at Phil’s hair to pull him up into a kiss. The angle and their smiles make it sloppier than Dan really intended it to be, but Phil is still trying to move his hips, so clearly it’s still working for him. Dan has the passive, fond thought that most things still work for Phil. When Phil makes a whiny sort of noise at Dan’s mouth leaving his, Dan decides he wants to share that thought.

“God, you’re so needy,” he says, letting affection coat his voice in the sort of sincere way he doesn’t usually like to. It feels important to do it, now, where what he’s saying might sound like a proper insult if he stays in his usual jokey sarcastic tone. “Look at you, huh? Can’t even decide what you want, but you know you want it.”

The shiver that goes through Phil’s body is much more telling than Phil’s huff of, “Shut up.”

“You like that?” Dan grins into Phil’s neck and rocks his hips to slide his cock over the heated skin of Phil’s lower back. “Course you do. Always so fucking horny, aren’t you?”

“N-not always -”

“Doesn’t matter how messy or awkward it is,” Dan continues like Phil hasn’t tried to interrupt. “You’ll still get all whiny and impatient and wet for me. I bet you’re dripping already, huh, all hard just from humping the mattress and having a naked guy on you.”

Personally, Dan thinks those are valid enough reasons to be turned on, but there’s something so satisfying about watching Phil squirm when he says it. He shifts off of Phil to work a hand into the front of his pyjama pants, feeling him up like he owns the place. Phil’s breath comes out forceful, almost like a laugh or a sob, as Dan fondles the head of his dick and hums happily.

“That’s what I thought,” he says, and Phil makes that laugh-sob sound again.

“Fuck, Dan,” Phil whines. He sounds so desperate that Dan thinks it’s probably a little sadistic how much pleasure he’s getting from hearing it. “Stop talking and fuck me already.”

“You got some nerve, talking back while you’re gagging for it like this,” says Dan. He lets go of Phil’s cock and tugs the flannels down, throwing them somewhere over his shoulder for one of them to trip on later. “Good thing you’re so pretty. Spread ‘em.”

Phil makes a noise of protest but does as he’s told, a juxtaposition that has Dan biting back a laugh as he idly plays with his own cock. He strokes with more purpose when Phil settles up on his knees and arches his back just right, still gripping Dan’s pillow like it’s a lifeline. He just looks so good like that, always does, but the fact that Dan is the one deciding when the tableau shifts is adding a layer that he didn’t know existed.

“Please,” Phil says, the word sounding a bit like it’s been punched out of him. His legs are trembling, and Dan knows it has very little to do with the fan blowing cooler air towards them.

“Since you asked so nicely,” Dan teases, settling low between Phil’s legs and nipping at the swell of one cheek. The way Phil’s muscles tense further tells him that Phil wasn’t expecting Dan to do it like this, but the cut-off whimper that comes from him is nothing but positive.

“God, Dan -”

“Look at you,” says Dan again. He spreads Phil open and licks a too-quick stripe over his hole to hear the needy noises that it elicits. “Such a slut for this, aren’t you?”

Phil groans and pushes back against him. “Yeah, fuck. Just for you, though.”

As if there was any doubt left in Dan’s mind. He chuckles and runs his tongue in circles over Phil’s hole until his shaky legs get even more unsteady. Then, Dan dips inside. The teasing, shallow ministrations have Phil practically keening, and Dan shivers.

They don’t do this nearly enough. Dan has that same thought every single time he eats Phil out - that he should really do it more - no matter how long ago the last time was. The noises that Phil always makes are breathy and slutty and usually pressed into a pillow or his own hand so Dan can’t be too smug about taking him apart so easily. Not that it actually stops Dan from being smug, of course. He thinks he’s earned the right to be smug about how good he makes Phil feel.

When Dan’s jaw needs a break from basically making out with Phil’s asshole, he trails his tongue down and gives Phil’s tight balls some much-needed attention. He can’t help but laugh at the way Phil’s whole body jerks, and he needs to pull back. He wants to watch Phil squirm at the loss - which of course he does, immediately, pushing back into nothing and whining like he’s bereft.

Dan laughs again, taking Phil’s hips in hand to roll him over bodily. He admires the way the flush has spread down Phil’s front, too, patchy and pink and beautiful, all the way to his dick. That’s got a pretty flush of its own, and Phil is so hard and dripping precome that Dan can practically feel his mouth watering.

He holds back, though, and smirks when his gaze reaches Phil’s eyes. Phil doesn’t have his contacts in, but some part of him must sense that Dan is smirking, because he groans and tries to cover his face with both hands.

“Shut up,” Phil says into his own palms.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You don’t have to. I can sense how fucking pleased you are with yourself.”

“Can you blame me?” Dan asks, running his hands over Phil’s thighs and grinning when the muscles there twitch. “You’re so fucking easy for me, babe. You’re all embarrassed and you’re still spreading your legs, because all you can think about right now is cock, huh? My cock,” he clarifies before Phil can do it for him, and affection spreads through his whole body when Phil giggles helplessly.

Phil peeks out between his fingers. He’s looking somewhere around Dan’s left ear, but the cuteness is still wildly effective.

“You gonna fuck me?” he asks, laughter lingering in his voice. “Or are you gonna make me beg?”

Dan can’t tell if Phil is joking or not, but the suggestion goes straight to his dick in any case. He bites his lip and reaches for Phil’s wrists, pulling them away from his face and pressing them against the mattress on either side of his head. He watches as Phil’s breath catches, eyes going wider at the shift in mood.

“Yeah,” Dan says, quiet. “I want to hear that.”

“Dan,” Phil breathes. He squeezes his eyes shut, like even the blurry image of Dan is too much right now. “Fuck, I wasn’t - I don’t know if I can do that. That’s, like, a lot.”

There’s a note in Phil’s voice that makes Dan soften his grip. He leans down and kisses Phil, lingering and sweet, as a reminder that this is still them, that Phil doesn’t have to perform for Dan when he doesn’t want to. He waits until Phil is relaxed and gazing up at him again before he speaks.

“That’s fine,” he says, as sincerely as he knows how. “You don’t have to.”

Phil smiles. It’s fond and familiar, and Dan can’t help but return it. This part is always a bit weird, figuring out the boundaries and sorting between what feels good because they’re horny and what feels good because they like it.

“Maybe another time,” says Phil. That’s sincere, too. Dan wants to say that Phil doesn’t need to do it for him, but this is a type of conversation that they’ve had before. Sometimes the things they do are for each other’s sake, and they have to trust that they’re not going to push themselves too far in the process.

“Sure, if you want to,” Dan settles on. He presses another kiss to the corner of Phil’s mouth. “You still want me to fuck you, baby?”

“Yes,” Phil says, quick enough that it makes Dan snort.

There’s something Dan wants to say to that, because of course there is, but he holds his tongue. Somehow, Phil always knows when he’s doing that. He squints up at Dan and then turns his face to the side. Maybe it’s easier not to look at Dan to say, “And I like… the other stuff you were saying. If that wasn’t fucking obvious. I know it’s - but, I dunno. I kind of think it’s hot when you tease me like that. So you can keep doing… that. If you want to.”

“Aw,” says Dan, unable to help himself. He noses at Phil’s jaw with a grin. “You’re so cute. Don’t worry, I know what a cockslut you are.”

Phil’s whine turns into a giggle, and Dan has to swallow the noise with his mouth.

This part is the most familiar. Dan blindly grabs around his nightstand until he finds a bottle of lube and presses two slick fingers into Phil, slow, without tearing himself away from the kiss. Phil’s groan reverberates between their mouths, and he hitches a leg up on Dan’s hip to make it easier for both of them. Dan bets that he could do this part in his sleep.

What’s new is the things he murmurs between kisses, the quiet reverence of, “Can’t believe you’re already so desperate,” and, “God, look at you, such a fucking slut for it,” and, “Bet you’d come without even getting me inside you if I touched your dick.”

Phil nods a lot, either in agreement or encouragement, and shuts Dan up with kisses when he gets too flustered. Before long, he’s rocking his hips and demanding that Dan get on with it.

Dan laughs, but he’s too turned on to draw this out any longer as it is. And as hot as it would be to hear Phil beg for his cock, there’s something even hotter about Phil getting impatient and needy with horniness and just telling Dan to fuck him already, knowing damn well that Dan is in a position where he could say not yet and Phil would just have to deal with it.

It doesn’t take long, after that. They both fall apart completely as Dan finally sinks inside, and it’s too hard to focus on the things coming out of his mouth when Phil feels so good around him and makes such desperate little noises. Maybe Dan is rougher with his thrusts and his grip than he usually is for lazy morning sex, maybe Phil is blushing and shivering more than he has since he came in his jeans during a movie marathon at his parents’ old house, but it becomes less about the teasing words and more about how good it always feels to fuck into Phil’s tight body.

Phil comes first, jerking himself off and rocking into Dan’s thrusts, and he arches prettily off the bed as he splatters both of their stomachs with it.

“Fuck,” Dan breathes. “Look at you.”

Phil bites his lip and pulls Dan down into a searing kiss so that Dan can’t keep staring at him, and Dan finds that he’s more than content with that. His mind is still running a commentary about how hot Phil looks, how good he feels, how slutty it is that he’s still letting Dan fuck him until he gets his own.

He decides to save those words for another time. Because Phil’s eyes are glazing over with the floaty contentment that Dan is getting familiar with, and coming deep inside Phil with his teeth on Phil’s collarbone will never lose its magic.

They’re breathing hard and their limbs are loose with the strength of their orgasms when Phil huffs a laugh.

“I’m not washing the sheets,” he says. “Not even if you tell me to.”

“I know,” Dan laughs. He presses soft kisses up Phil’s neck until he meets his lips again. He’s softening, but he doesn’t want to pull out of Phil yet. It just feels nice to be inside him until one or both of them can’t handle it anymore. “I don’t mind washing up. If you still want me to tell you what to do, though, I think breakfast and a bubble bath are in your cards.”

Phil’s eyes crinkle with his fond grin, and he wraps both arms around Dan’s shoulders to pull him impossibly closer. “Mm. Knew I could count on you to be in charge.”

[mycupoffanfiction]

His Second Chance Part 2

Bucky x Reader

His Second Chance Masterlist

Bucky comes back from Wakanda with Steve, ready to begin his recovery from his days as the Winter Soldier, but there’s one thing he doesn’t take into account - you.

Warnings: Language, angst, fluff. 

Word count: Approx 2200

Masterlist

I’ve been on a bit of a writing roll with this series, I have several parts lined up for the next few days and MY GOD Bucky makes my heart hurt excuse me. 

Please don’t hesitate to leave suggestions or thoughts! TAG LISTS ARE OPEN! (Permanent and His Second Chance lists)

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It felt like a burn almost. You could feel it there, even if you couldn’t see it. It felt cold, but hot at the same time. It sent shivers up your spine as you swallowed thickly. You pulled a blanket over yourself, you felt so exposed while being fully clothed. You curled in on yourself on the sofa, eyes glued to the screen, controller in your hand as you played a videogame. You had a headset on, so not to disturb the others, it was early morning after all and you hadn’t been able to sleep.

 “You can come and sit with me, if you want.” You spoke up, eyes not leaving the screen as your character slashed at enemies. Bucky peered around the corner; icy cold glare fixed on you as he slowly inched towards you. “Sorry for staring.” He mumbled, standing in front of an armchair to your left, but he didn’t move to sit down.

 You were so pretty, he just couldn’t help staring, but now he was in trouble because you knew he was staring even when you couldn’t see him. How did you know? You paused your game to look over at him, a sweet smile on your lips as you made eye contact with his weary, tired eyes. “Why don’t you sit down?” You asked, not really looking for an answer, it was more of a prompt. Bucky grunted, shaking his head and your smile fell.

 Stop grunting at her, it scares her, you scare her. Bucky knew he made you uneasy, but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t sit down, not because he didn’t want to, he did, but he just couldn’t. “Bucky.” Your sweet voice interrupted his thoughts. “Please sit down.” You almost begged, the tone of your voice sounded like you were almost upset that he wouldn’t take a seat. “No.” He said, much more angrily than he’d meant to and you looked up at him in surprise. Your breathing caught in your throat at that and Bucky instantly felt bad. Idiot, you’re scaring her. “Oh.” You whispered, cheeks blushing. Damn it was cute when she blushed. What Bucky didn’t find cute though, was that the reason you were blushing was not a good reason at all. Bucky squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. You looked so uncomfortable. You made her feel uncomfortable, well done Barnes. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

 You looked away at your game for a mere second to save it, opening your mouth to say something, but as soon as you looked back, Bucky had silently slunk away in that split second. “Bucky?” You called out, voice small and weak, wondering if he was watching you from somewhere.

 “What’s with your one sided staring contests, Barnes?” Sam asked as the pair sat at the island in the kitchen. “Whaddya mean?” Bucky grumbled into his black coffee. The barstool he was perched on was hard, almost the same as sitting on the floor, so he was comfortable enough. “You stare at (Y/n) a lot, we noticed it, she notices it.” Sam explained, tilting his head from side to side a few times as he spoke. “She noticed it?” He asked. Of course he knew she noticed it, she noticed him earlier without even seeing him. Fuck did she complain about him? I bet she feels weird when you stare at her, gotta stop staring at her. “She mentioned it.” Sam shrugged. “Said she thought it was sad, thinks you want to talk to her but you just grunt at her.” Sam scoffed, finding it almost funny that Bucky couldn’t bring himself to talk to you properly. “Do I scare her?” Bucky blurted out, eyes wide with fear as his cold stare bore into Sam’s warm, smiling face. “Dunno, why don’t you ask her, Barnes?” Sam shook his head affectionately before hopping up from his seat. Urgh Wilson was hopeless, need to ask Steve.

 “Stevie?” Your sweet tone captured his attention, the soldier sat hunched over some papers as he hummed in response. He’d just returned from training some cadets and was still in his suit. Steve reached up to scratch his beard, looking up at you. A smirk forming on his lips when he saw you sporting the same Captain America hoodie. “You must’ve missed me a lot to get a Captain America hoodie.” He chuckled, gesturing you to come to him. You sat beside him on the sofa as he fiddled with his papers on the coffee table. “It was a gift.” You shrug, smiling up at him. “But I did miss you a lot, Stevie.” You sighed. “I know, sweetheart. I missed you too.” Steve pecked you lightly on the temple, giving you a tight squeeze around the middle.

 You were like a sister to him; you’d been best friends for years. You’d grown a tight bond with the soldier, after all he was the one who found you and took you to the Avengers. Sometimes people mistook your affection towards each other as romantic, but by now everyone in the team knew how it really was and no one questioned it anymore.

 “Oh I almost forgot, I gotta go and run these up to Fury, but could ya take this to Buck for me, please?” Steve asked, handing you a heavy black bag. You wondered what was in it, but you thought it best not to pry, especially when Bucky was so private. You just nodded and took the bag from him.

 Okay, you have to do more than grunt and sound angry when you next see her. Bucky paced around his room. A soft little knock came to his door and he paused in his step, the room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. “Bucky?” Your sweet little voice called through when he didn’t open the door. Right, right, gotta open the door, there’s not a guard to open it for you. Bucky moved to the door, pushing aside the chair he had started to wedge against the door at night in his paranoia. He flung the door open and you practically jumped back, a little squeak escaping your lips. Shit, fuck, you already scared her just by opening the damn door too violently, don’t use your metal arm to open doors.

 “I- uh- um.” You avoided eye contact as you took a deep breath. That damn hoodie again. Maybe one day you’ll have merchandise and she’ll walk around in your hoodie. You thrust the bag at Bucky, glancing up into his eyes, but you paused when you saw his eyes had softened slightly. “I’m sorry.” Was all he could say. “W-what for?” You squeaked out, awkwardly shifting in your step as your heart rate calmed. “For scaring you.” He mumbled, flesh hand taking the bag from you, brushing your delicate hand slightly. So soft. God, Bucky just wanted to reach out and touch you so bad. He wanted to hold you and feel another human being against him. But he couldn’t. “Oh, Bucky, you don’t-.” You cut yourself off as you peered into his room, a look of confusion crossing your features. Bucky glanced behind him, a streak of panic running through him before turning back to you. “Do you- do you sleep on the floor?” You asked, voice shrinking down even smaller than it was before as you stared into his room. Oh no, no, no, why did she have to notice?

 Poor Bucky. Your eyes trailed over the mattress that he’d pulled off the bed frame and onto the floor. The thinnest blanket he could find was draped over the bare mattress. Your heart sank. “Bucky.” You whispered. “You don’t have to sleep on the floor.” You looked up at him, sadness in your eyes. Bucky’s heart almost broke clean in half when he saw how your eyes glistened with sadness. Oh no, she’s sad, crap you made her sad. Bucky didn’t want to see the tears that welled up in your eyes. No, please don’t cry for me, why would you cry for me? Bucky panicked in his head as he saw a little tear escape the corner of your eye. He didn’t know what to do, so in his panic he looked around, stepped back from the door and closed it, leaving you alone in the hallway.

 You were beside yourself. Poor Bucky couldn’t even relax enough to sleep properly on his bed. No wonder he constantly looked exhausted. But you started to piece it together. He stood all the time, unless the surface was hard or firm. Maybe he’d always been forced to sit in uncomfortable chairs or on the floor. You weren’t too sure, but what you did know was that it was starting to become your personal mission to help Bucky adjust, if he’d let you of course. You hoped he’d warm up to you soon, the grunts, few words and the panicked way he would avoid you when you accidentally touched a nerve was upsetting to see. But maybe, just maybe you could help him.

 “Wait, no, I thought we could have dinner in the other room tonight.” You smiled brightly, stopping Steve from sitting down at the island with his plate. “At the dining table.” You added, eyes flicking between all three boys. “Please?” You asked sweetly, big soft eyes. It wasn’t like any of them could say no to you anyway. “That sounds nice, doesn’t it Buck?” Steve asked as he watched you walk out of the kitchen and lead the way to the dining room, you heard Bucky grunt in response, but you understood that it was a common reply from him and not because he was being rude.

 Sam and Steve automatically sat together on one side of the table, leaving two seats right next to each other for you and Bucky. Ooh, I get to sit next to her. Bucky felt a tingle in his stomach, an airy feeling in his head. Suddenly his forehead didn’t feel so tense and he relaxed a little. Are you feeling… Happy? That was new. Bucky paused for a moment, he hadn’t even realised that you’d already sat down and you were looking up expectantly at him. Sam and Steve paid little attention as they squabbled on the other side of the table. Bucky hesitantly pulled the dining chair out and he paused when he saw the cushion on the seat. He looked at you, seeing the hope in your eyes. She wants to you sit down; she knows you won’t. Bucky shook his head and grunted a little to get the thoughts to stop and then glanced at you, realising your sweet little hopeful smile had dropped and you looked disappointed. Stop. Grunting. It scares her you idiot. Bucky took a deep breath and put his plate of food down on the dining table. Do it for her, try at least, come on Barnes. You can take out a building of people in ten minutes but you can’t sit on a fucking chair.

 A little giggle passed your lips when he plopped down onto the cushioned chair. He looked confused, surprised and… Pleased. This felt odd, very odd. It was squishy and soft but kind of nice. No, actually it was very nice. “Comfortable?” You asked, leaning on the table to try and catch his line of sight. Bucky nodded as he pulled the chair in, pausing for a moment to feel the cushion underneath him. So this is what it felt like to be normal, at least for a moment. “Thank you.” Bucky mumbled, eyes shyly glancing at you. A big, sweet smile formed on your lips, making Bucky’s heart flutter as you stared up at his icy demeanor. He was so cold, so void of expression, but you wondered if he felt something inside that he wasn’t showing you.

She is so damn pretty. Bucky was mesmerised by you, the way your smile lit up your face, urgh, he could look at you all the time if it wasn’t weird. “You gonna eat or are you two just going to stare into each other’s eyes all night?” Sam joked and as if on cue, both you and Bucky shot glares at Sam for ruining your moment.

 You were so happy, so proud, you weren’t sure if you were proud of yourself for trying to help Bucky or if you were proud of him for making an effort to adjust to something new, but you were goddamn proud. Your heart swelled as you watched Bucky relax into his seat as he ate, he didn’t look as stiff as he normally did, maybe he was starting to feel more comfortable or maybe it was because you were seeing him and helping.

Either way, you didn’t see yourself stopping any time soon. One step at a time, you were determined to help Bucky, because you knew that deep down under that tough exterior that there was a sweet man who just needed a little help to come out.

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Permanent Tag List:

@shygirl-00@swanlakemikey@scuzmunkie@paintballkid711@lovelylilia@mapreza1 @love-bucky-3000 @cals-cigarette @scarlett-berserker@2407zzz

His Second Chance Tag List:

@socialheartbreak @whatsupbucky @yesno18 @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @crystallstaircase @megantje123 @fantua

[syntaxeme]

Giardino Segreto ch. 2

[Read on AO3] | [First Chapter] | [Next Chapter] Rating: T Chapter summary: After yet another fight with his father, Angel goes out on the town with a friend, looking to drown his feelings in drinks and drugs. Alastor follows along, concerned that Angel might run into trouble--and run into trouble, he does. So much for keeping a low profile.

— — –

It took a further few days of hemming and hawing before Alastor finally managed to take action. After all, he had to decide on an approach, how to introduce himself, how honest he should be—there was plenty to consider. Plenty to waste time overanalyzing.

Maybe two weeks after his initial coughing fit, he was hovering around the Dellarosa house again, looking for an opportunity to speak to Angel—but even when he arrived home at around 10 p.m., his father met him at the door and dragged him into his office. Unable to resist observing the interaction, Alastor slipped into the room alongside them.

“What the hell is your problem?” Angel snapped, trying and failing to wrench his arm from his father’s grip. “Get off me!”

“Where’ve you been?” The Dellarosa family’s patriarch, Enrico, was a large and physically imposing man, whose voice always seemed to hold a certain quiet anger. Especially when he was addressing Angel. “And what are you wearing?”

Angel drew into himself slightly, crossing his arms and grasping at his sleeves. His outfit consisted of a dress shirt, slacks, and oxfords, all of which were a bit too big for his slight frame. “Clothes?” he answered defensively. “I borrowed ‘em from Criss.” That would be his older brother, Cristiano, who was next in line for the position of boss.

“Right. You ask him about that first or did you just take ‘em?”

“He gave them to me,” Angel growled, bristling. “They’re just clothes. What do you care?”

“I care that my daughter is running around town looking like a damn crossdresser,” Enrico snarled right back, and the boy stiffened at that word. ‘Daughter.’

“Who, Molly?” he asked coolly. “Last I checked, her closet was still full of skirts, so I don’t think you have to worry about that.”

“Don’t play stupid—”

“Well, you only have one daughter,” the boy insisted, his voice rising along with his frustration, “so I dunno who else you could be talkin’ about.”

His father took a deep breath, as if forcing himself to stay calm. “I’m losing my patience with this whole I’m-a-boy phase.”

“Losing? Like you ever had any to start with?” Angel’s shoulders were tense, his hands still clenched, his voice coming out through gritted teeth. “And I told you already, it ain’t a phase. No matter how many times you argue with me, no matter how many dresses you force me to wear, no matter how many times Ma tries to tell me about my ‘place’ in the business—this is who I am.”

“Please. ‘Who you are’ changes like the fucking weather. This? This is just your latest bid for attention, and you’re hangin’ onto it because it’s working.” Enrico’s voice was icy, utterly devoid of compassion. Despite his body’s rigidity, Angel’s hands trembled slightly.

“Molly believes me.”

“Molly goes along with your theatrics because she loves you. I don’t have time for it.”

Time for loving your child? Granted, Alastor had never been a parent himself and therefore couldn’t know how it felt, but that particular brand of love, he’d heard, was meant to be unconditional. Enrico’s seemed to come with a great many particular if-then addenda.

“Why would I lie about this?” Angel’s shaking was getting worse. “When you make every single part of it so fuckin’ hard—”

“Watch your mouth.”

“Why would I bother fighting with you if this wasn’t real?” the boy demanded, furious and glaring even as his voice broke. After a moment, his father took a step closer and reached up to swipe a tear off Angel’s face with his thumb.

“Boys don’t cry, sweetheart,” he said without a hint of sympathy, his tone dripping disdain. “Now you listen to me and listen good. I don’t want to hear any more of this. Not one more word. You’re making a fool out of yourself, going out looking like that, and you’re making a fool of me too. The pants, the short hair, you trying to get involved in the business—that shit’s about to end, and if you keep tryin’ to fight me, I’m gonna make sure you regret it. You hear me?” Silence for a moment, and Angel’s eyes stayed trained on the floor. Unsatisfied, his father took a step closer and growled, “I said, do you hear me, Antonia?”

Drawing in a deep breath, the boy straightened his spine and raised his head to answer clearly, “My name is Angel.” Without a second’s hesitation, Enrico pulled a hand back and slapped him across the face, hard enough that the sound voided the room of air and Angel stumbled to the floor.

Beyond Alastor’s control, a high, ear-splitting screech of static pealed through the room, and both mortals cringed. It took every ounce of his willpower not to end Enrico’s life then and there. He knew this wasn’t the first time Angel’s father had raised a hand to him, of course, but he had never been present to witness it in the past. The static quickly faded from the room as he struggled to calm himself, and the two humans stayed still as they tried to determine its source.

Not now, Alastor told himself. Patience, just a little longer. I won’t let him be in this position again.

Still distracted, Enrico muttered, “Get the hell upstairs and put on something that fits you.” Angel forced himself to his feet, and under his father’s withering glare, he left the room. He kept his head high as he walked, but there were visible streaks of tears down his face. Alastor followed quickly up the stairs to his room, trying to remember the introduction he had planned for himself earlier past the blinding fury he felt from seeing Angel be struck. When the boy locked his bedroom door and wandered toward his closet, starting to unbutton his shirt with shaking hands, Alastor realized he was edging dangerously toward peeping Tom status. After a split-second of panic, he bolted out onto the balcony to try to center his thoughts.

All his careful planning had been thrown off within just the past ten minutes; he’d hoped to catch Angel in a good mood when he returned home and to introduce himself in a lighthearted atmosphere. Judging by the rage and pain now radiating from the boy, that was no longer an option—not for this night, at least. Better to wait for another opportunity, then?

At the sound of the balcony door behind him, he spun on his heel—and found himself face to face with Angel. The Radio Demon sucked in a breath and held it, frozen even though he was well aware no mortal would perceive him, even this close. Angel’s dark eyes gazed right through him and out at the city, his expression patently dissatisfied, his cheekbone already starting to bruise from Enrico’s slap. He ran a hand through his pale bangs, tilting his head back, and Alastor realized he hadn’t actually taken his shirt off; it was just unbuttoned. Further, his modesty wasn’t in question, as he was wearing a tight bandeau underneath to bind his chest. He was, as always, singularly beautiful, and Alastor couldn’t bring himself to look away until Angel finally took a step back himself and retreated inside with a sigh.

The tension slowly melted out of his posture, and he fought back another coughing fit from the excitement of having been so painfully close to the object of his affections. The sooner he explained himself, the sooner Angel knew of him and could possibly return his feelings, the less he would suffer over time. Yet still he hesitated to accept the vulnerability that came with admitting to being in love. Some foolish part of him almost insisted it would be better to die than to suffer that indignity.

While he was standing outside fighting with himself, Angel turned out the lights in his room—but he didn’t go to bed. Instead, he switched on a lamp and seated himself at the vanity against the wall. As Alastor peered inside curiously, Angel was putting on eyeshadow and liner, winking and smiling at himself in the mirror. Cute. But why wear makeup to bed? He must have been planning on going out again, which wasn’t entirely out of character.

Alastor got his answer in the form of a huffing, grunting young woman clambering her way over the balcony’s railing to crouch atop it and rake strawberry blond hair out of her eyes. “Hey!” she hissed in a sort of stage whisper, a conspiratorial grin curling her lips. “You ready to go, bitch? We ain’t got all night.”

“Fuck you,” Angel called back with a laugh while Alastor took a step back on the balcony to observe the new arrival. Her hair was messily pulled back into a high ponytail, her pleated skirt shorter than average, her blouse partially unbuttoned on top and bottom. Frankly, she looked like a hellion. Mischievous.

Stranger still: she was a demon. A relatively low-level demon, it seemed, as she didn’t seem to notice Alastor’s presence, but he could still read it on her, as he could any demon in a human guise. Did Angel know about this? Surely not. Yet even if he was unaware of it, it did seem to be a fact that he was friends with a demoness. Another interesting surprise.

When he came out to meet her, he had changed from his brother’s borrowed trousers into a pair of shorts he and Molly had fashioned from a loose skirt. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, the lower part of his shirt unbuttoned and tied at his waist. “Took ya long enough,” his friend teased. When her eyes fell on his marked cheek, she winced slightly but quickly replaced her smile. “We getting’ outta here or what?”

“God, please,” he groaned. “I am beyond ready.” Seemingly (factually) from nowhere, the girl produced a very simple rope ladder, which she tied to the balcony’s railing and quickly descended. Angel laughed as he followed her, “Where the hell were you keepin’ that?”

“Girl’s gotta have her secrets.”

Alastor peered over the edge of the railing as they crept away from the house, nervous for reasons he didn’t quite understand. Angel was, by all accounts, an adult. Being the child of a mafia boss, surely he’d been taught how to defend himself. Yet something about the idea of him being out who knew where in New York City in the middle of the night made Alastor’s skin crawl. After a moment more of debating with himself, he rushed through the harsh shadows cast by the moon and followed the pair. Even if this wasn’t the time for his confession, he could still be sure that Angel was safe.

As they walked and he listened, he learned the girl’s name was Cherri. “You’re mopier than usual,” she said, nudging Angel’s arm. “Old man caught you comin’ home?”

“Of course he did,” he grumbled in response. “And he pulled the whole ‘I’m putting my foot down’ shit again. We’re just gonna keep havin’ that same conversation over and over until he gets it through his thick skull, and I’m so tired of it.”

“Don’t worry about it right now, babe.” The girl threw her arm around his shoulders and nudged her head against his while they continued to walk. Alastor felt an unfamiliar pang at seeing how close they were. “This club where I’m takin’ you is the best place in town to get your mind of all the bullshit at home, trust me.”

“Yeah, well, you would know,” Angel chuckled. They continued downtown to a somewhat rundown part of the city, passing by what appeared to be an abandoned hotel and traveling down an alley at its side. Already, Alastor was uncomfortable with the setting. If he were the sort of person to say he had a ‘bad feeling’ about a place, he certainly would have at this moment. All the more reason to continue following.

At the end of the alley, there was a bare metal door in the solid brick wall on their right, and Cherri pounded her fist against it in a particular rhythm. After a moment, the door cracked, then swung open fully to reveal a musclebound, dark-haired man, one who looked perhaps twice the age of Angel or Cherri.

“Been a while, doll,” he said in a voice that betrayed years of tobacco abuse, his eyes roaming licentiously over Cherri’s body. Unpleasant. When he turned that same gaze on Angel, Alastor’s body grew tense. Unacceptable. “And who are you, sweet thing?”

“His name’s Angel, and he’s with me,” Cherri said, protectively pulling the boy closer to her side and giving the older man a withering glare. “So keep your fuckin’ eyes to yourself, Jazz. You lettin’ us in or not?”

Despite her hostility, he shrugged and took a step back to let them enter without any further protest. Alastor followed along, giving ‘Jazz’ one last reproachful glance before heading downstairs into a basement that had apparently been converted into a bar. The room was lit here and there by lamps on the tables spotting the floor. The place wasn’t terribly full, and no one looked up when the newcomers entered.

“Dio santo, I’m gonna lose my damn mind if I don’t get a drink,” Angel groaned, “now.”

“All right already, calm down,” Cherri laughed. “Come on, my guy at the bar’ll take care of us.”

Alastor remained for the next few hours, standing by at the table the duo occupied against the wall and listening to them chat. After the past several months, this was a pastime he’d grown used to with Angel, and he was happen to listen—though the conversation this evening wasn’t the most positive sort.

Angel had quite a lot to say about his mistreatment at home, how his father refused to even attempt to use the correct name or pronouns. Enrico had even gone as far as snapping at the others when they addressed Angel correctly. The tone of his voice—particularly as he grew more intoxicated—made his pain clear through his anger, no matter how tightly he tried to cling to the latter.

In addition to several shots and various cocktails, Cherri also obtained a pouch of crystalline white powder and a handful of small, colorful tablets. She popped one into her mouth and offered one to Angel, who accepted it and squinted at it curiously. “Wassat?” he asked, already beyond tipsy and firmly in the realm of drunk. He didn’t wait for an answer before impulsively bringing it up to his mouth to lick it.

“You’ll like it, trust me,” Cherri told him as she was stirring the white powder into their drinks.

Alastor stood by, nervous, starting to fidget a bit as he wondered how all those chemicals would interact. Granted, this subject wasn’t his area of expertise; the drugs he had dabbled in in life had been of a very different sort. But if Angel had never tried this combination before, might he be in danger of having an adverse reaction? He was a bit reckless, Alastor had noticed already, and with his judgment already skewed by alcohol, he was that much more likely to make rash decisions. Briefly, Alastor had the thought to try to stop him, but that wouldn’t be the best first impression. And besides, there were too many people around for him to comfortably come forward.

Once the two had downed their pills and drinks, they seemed to grow much more talkative, more energetic, more cheerful—but it all seemed forced, artificial somehow. And Alastor’s concern continued to mount, particularly when a pair of men, visibly larger and stronger than the two of them, came to join them at their table.

“You girls look like you’re havin’ a good time over here.” One of the intruders was recognizable as the same Jazz who had let them into the establishment. The two made themselves comfortable in the surrounding chairs while Angel and Cherri seemed rather confused by their presence. “Mind if we join you?”

“Yeah, kinda,” Cherri said flatly, sending Angel into a fit of giggles. “If you ain’t here to get us another drink, piss off.”

“Hey, we can do that. Dan.” Jazz nodded to his companion, a tattoo-covered ruffian who left immediately for the bar. As Alastor watched, he ordered a pair of colorful cocktails, then discreetly added…something else to the glasses before bringing them over and setting them in front of Cherri and Angel. Angel was clearly in a more agreeable mood, as he readily reached for the glass in front of him—but his friend caught his hand to stop him.

“Look, Jazz, I dunno what you think you’re playing at,” she growled, growing tenser and more hostile with each passing moment, “but it ain’t happenin’.”

“You sure? Your friend seems like she’s havin’ fun,” the tattoo-covered Dan pointed out, nodding at Angel, who was still a bit giggly. He tilted Angel’s head upward, trying to pour the offered drink down his throat—and unfortunately, the boy was too addled to argue, opening his mouth and leaning into the predator’s touch. “Look at you, all eager.”

“Hey, get your fucking hands off him!” Cherri snapped, lunging at Dan, only to be caught by Jazz, who held her back and dragged her into his lap. This was all happening very quickly, the situation escalating in mere moments while Alastor warred with himself. Yes, it would be an issue to blow his cover, but letting Angel come to harm would be far worse.

“What’s the problem, doll?” Jazz snickered, his hands starting to creep under the edge of Cherri’s shirt while she struggled. “Everybody’s feelin’ good right now. Why don’t you take another drink and enjoy it with us?”

“No! Get off me! Angel!”

Angel, who was in the middle of being fed his drugged drink, apparently heard his name and lifted his head, spilling cold liquor down the front of his shirt and taking in a shocked gasp. “Cherri?” he slurred, trying and failing to blink the haze from his eyes. “Babe? What—”

“Don’t worry about her, honey,” Dan said, moving in closer to turn Angel away from his friend. “She’s in good hands. And so are you.”

Alastor had seen quite enough. As hard as he’d tried not to involve himself in Angel’s affairs, as much as he disliked the idea of revealing his nature in such a public setting, he absolutely refused to stand by and see the boy he—damn it—loved be abused like this. With a snap of the demon’s fingers, the shadows in the room (and there were plenty) bent to his power and rushed forward to separate the two predatory mortals from their quarry. Angel and Cherri were replaced back in their seats, while the would-be molesters were shoved some few feet away as Alastor manifested in front of them.

“What the hell?” Dan muttered, reflexively reaching for a pocketknife tucked into his waistband. Oh, please. “Where did you come from?”

“Gentlemen, I’m going to assume you’ve both had quite a lot to drink this evening,” Alastor said, his calm demeanor belied by the steadily-building radio static in the room. The other patrons noticed it as well, and some inched closer to the ruckus. Not ideal, but the most important thing was Angel’s safety. Whatever Alastor had to do in order to defend that, he would. “With that in mind, I’m willing to ignore your deplorable behavior on the condition that it cease immediately and you leave these two”—he nodded toward Angel and Cherri, who were still somewhat in shock—“alone. Please don’t make me tell you again.”

“Fuck you,” Jazz snapped predictably, taking a step forward as if he thought his height and bulk might intimidate Alastor. No such luck. “Look, we were here first, so scram and find your own girl.”

A buzzer sounded from somewhere unseen. “Ooh, I’m sorry, that’s not the answer we were looking for,” Alastor said sympathetically, twirling his staff in one hand before stamping it down against the floor. Every light in the room went out, sending its occupants into a panicked uproar.

Alastor, on the other hand, had no difficulty seeing in the dark. He had his shadows seize the two delinquents and knock their empty skulls together, not sure of how much damage it might do and not particularly caring. In the same instant, he scooped Angel up into his arms and instructed the shadows to bring Cherri along as well. The three swept up the stairs, down the alley, and into the ruined hotel next door. An absent wave of Alastor’s hand lit the dust-covered sconces on the wall, providing just enough light to see by.

Now that they were out of harm’s way, he carefully rested Angel on the threadbare rug to check on him, and his blood ran cold as he realized the boy was still, silent, unresponsive. Not breathing.

[dcnatural]

Filled To The Brim

Word Count: 1770

Pairing: Joker x Harley Quinn

Rating: Explicit

Synopsis: Joker brings Harley a gift.

The metal table was cold enough to make Harley shiver. Her body bended over the edge, ass sticking up to the air, chest flat against the surface and head held in place by firm grip on her hair. Her long painted nails scratched the metal, looking for something to hold onto, but the tabletop was far too smooth and so every time the Joker thrusted into her, her body slid forward, and was pulled back as he retreated, only to thrust seconds later with as much strength as the time before. The friction of her skin against the metal was making her breasts itchy, and she was pretty sure she would have rashes when this was over. Not that she would complain about it; she never complained about her pudding.

Behind her, the Joker grunted, his cock twitching inside her tight ass. Letting go of her pale blond locks, he placed both hands on Harley’s hips, nails digging into her creamy white skin, and began to rock into her even faster, jamming into her balls deep.

“Puddin’!”, she shrieked, surprised at the sudden change of pace.

“Hush, Harley. Can’t see I’m too busy to talk right now?”

She bit her lip, suppressing a cry. “But -- but you are going to fast!”

As fast as a lighting, a fist hit the table just near her head with a loud thud. “Shut up!”

She nodded, teeth cutting through the fragile skin of her lips hard enough to draw blood. She told herself to enjoy it, that his happiness was her happiness. It’s just his way of showing he loves and wants me. She smiled slightly at her thought, yes, the Joker loved her. And she loved him, loved him enough to do anything. And with that in mind, her moans soon joined his, echoing through the walls of the abandoned warehouse. A wide grin formed on his face, those were the sounds he wanted her to make. Not her annoying whimpers or cries, but those sweets little moans filled with pleasure.

And then, with a final thrust, it was over: his thick cum shooting into her, flooding her ass. Without pulling out, he collapsed on top of her, panting as his breath returned to normal, his heavy frame weighing her down. His sweaty hands slid between her body and the table, cupping her boobs as he placed kisses on her neck.

“Oh, Harley, I have a surprise for you.”

Her eyes went wide in excitement. “I looove surprises!”, she said cheerfully, and would have clapped her hands, had she been able to do so.

His long fingers twisted her nipples, causing her to giggle. “I know you do”, he whispered seductively, mouth moving to lick the patch of skin underneath her ear. “And I’m sure you will fucking love this one. But for it to work, I’ll need to you to stay very still. Can you do that for me?”

She nodded. “Yes, Mistah J. Anything for you.”

“Good girl”, he purred before standing up and removing his softening cock from inside her. She heard his footsteps, as he crossed the warehouse back to where they had laid their backpacks and weapons. He searched for something, throwing out everything that was in his way, scattering guns and tricks all over the floor. 

“Here it is”, he announced, jogging back to where his lover was, carrying with him a small black box. 

Even though Harley had been holding up her ass, as soon as he had pulled out, the creamy white cum started oozing out of her hole. “Tsk tsk”, he reprimanded, running a slender finger along the pearly trail that it left behind, collecting the viscous substance and putting it back into her asshole. 

He walked around the table and place the box right in front of her. “Wanna make a guess on what’s inside?”

She nodded happily. “Umm.. is it a jewel? You know I have been dying for a new necklace!”

“Well,”, he pondered, “you could call it a jewel if you wanted to. But it’s not for your pretty neck”, he laughed in his classic manic way, “No, no, for that we will have to find something another day. Maybe pearls?”

“Oh, I would love a pearly necklace. But what’s in the box then?”

His eyes sparked with a glint of mishchiviouness as he opened the lid, revealing a silvery object. It had a thin tip and it widden towards the middle, followed by a notch and a large flared base shaped like a heart and decorated with a huge red crystal. A butt plug, she immediately recognized. “So, do you like it?”

Harley’s jaw opened, but no words came out. “It’s huge!”, she exclaimed, but as soon as she noticed that a small frown was forming on the Joker’s face, she shook her head and smiled. “I mean, it’s perfect!”

He clapped. “Great, great, great. Now you can keep me inside you all the times.”

“You mean…?”

“Oh, silly girl, this plug isn’t only decorative. I bought it so you could have my cum in your ass, just how I know you like”, he paused for a heartbeat, pretending to ponder about the subject, then he raised an eyebrow. “I mean, you like it, don’t you?”

“Yes, of course I love it, Mistah J. I love everything you give me”, the sugary words fell out of her mouth automatically, she didn’t even need to think about it, pleasing him had become a second nature for her.

“HA! Just like I thought!”, he exclaimed, picking up the plug from its box, jumping through the table and positioning himself behind Harley. “Try not to move, darling”, he warned and then, without further notice, he began to insert the new toy inside her ass. She clenched at the coldness of the plug, and he had to coax her into relaxing to be able to push the rest of the device into her. Finally, the plug was fully inside her. “You may rise, dear.”

She shifted as she got up, still adjusting to the new feeling. “It feels funny”, she said giggling. He smiled softly and pulled her close, holding her against his unclothed chest.

“I’m glad you are enjoying it.”

She inhaled deeply, taking in the strong smell of his perfume and melted into his embrace. She loved when he held her in his arms, and always felt safe and protected. Nothing bad could happen as long as she was with her puddin’. He leaned down, kissing her roughly, an act the she replied eagerly, parting her lips for him. When he pulled away, her lips were swollen and reddish, but she could have gone like that forever.

“I love you, darling. You know that, don’t you?”, he asked, still so close to her that she could feel his hot breath on her face.

“I know, puddin’. I love you too. I love you more than anything in this world.”

He tucked a loose hair lock back behind her ear. “Then will you bring something for me?”

“Oh, puddin’, of course! Just name it and I’ll make sure you get it.”

He grinned and let go of her. “ Per- fect”, he cheered. From the place where they had carelessly thrown it before, he picked her red and black jumpsuit and handed it to her. “Get dressed and go to the store, I have a insane need for some grape juice.”

She cocked her head. “But what about the plug?”

He dismissed her worries with a wave of his hand. “Don’t you worry about that, no one will notice. Now, get moving, we don’t have time to waste.”

“Sure thang, Mistah J”, she said with a coy smile as she began to put on the suit. When she was dressed, she turned her upper body to check whether the plug was showing. “Puddin’, I dunno, but the suit is very thigh and the lump seems quite noticeable...” But he hadn’t stuck around to hear her worries, having already headed towards the bags and picked up his phone. She sighed knowing that he was far too immersed in the comedy show he was watching, she couldn’t distract him with her problems.

No one will care, she told herself as she left their hiding spot and walked to the closest convenience store. Just walking proved to be a difficult task, as with each movement she made, she could constantly feel the plug inside her. Not only that, but she could also feel the cum, which had now gone cold. When the store entered her line of sight, she unholstered her pop gun. The parking lot was empty, and through the windows, Harley could see that the cashier was the only employee working at the moment. Good for me! , she thought, running towards the door, prepared to kick it open.

A dry cry escaped her throat as she lost her balance and fell to her butt, making the plug seemingly reach even further. “Damned automatic doors!”, she shouted as she got up, groaning with the discomfort that the plug caused. 

Behind the counter, the scared clerk had retreated to the wall, pressing so hard against it as if he thought that he could perhaps pass through it and hide.

“You!”, Harley pointed the gun at the employee. “Tell me where is the grape juice!”

He shook with fear, the words stumbling on top of each other. “In-- in the frid-- fridge. The back-kk. Plea--se don’t-tt hurt me-e.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, you asshole!”, she yelled, her back already turned to him. She couldn’t care less about him, the only thing in her mind was the juice. Her eyes scanned the shelves, looking for the right bottle. “AHA! Here it is!”

Making a precarious pile with the bottles, she carried it to the counter. “See, I’ll be needing a car. Do you have the keys to that junk parked outside?”

With trembling hands, the cashier reached into his pockets and pulled out the car keys, dropping them into Harley’s waiting hand. She smiled cheekly. “Thanks, you are honey! And could you pack those?”, she gestured to the bottles and the clerk quickly placed then in a large plastic bag. She took it and off she went, juice in one hand, keys on the other. 

Driving back to the warehouse was easier than walking. Despite the loud noise the car made, and of the smoke coming out of its back.

“I’m back!”, she announced happily as she pushed open the door.

The Joker barely raised his eyes from his phone. “Good, I was getting thirsty.”

[11thstreetgirl]

Sparks (Nasty x male reader)

Summary: The Hanoi boys show up at your usual haunt and make the place buzz. There’s unexpected sparks between you and Nasty. Flirty banter and things ensue...

Requested? Yesss by @thespacecowboyyy thank you!

AN: Sooooo this turned out weird. I’m not happy at all with it and Nasty feels very out of character and the dance scene is like the shittiest thing I’ve ever written, but this was so fun to write! It’s been years since I got a text out of my head this easily! So thank you! Also this turned out longer than I planned so I decided to post it in two parts if you guys like it. More notes at the end. To be continued... ps I suck at titles, please bear with me

The music was loud, so loud I almost didn’t hear myself think. Not that I was thinking straight anyways, beer always made me feel funny. On a second thought, I didn’t know if coming here just to check out some guys counted as thinking straight, beer or not. I snorted at my own joke as I made my way towards the bar. I could feel the looks on my back, there was something in the air tonight, something that this place usually didn’t have. I was actually getting interested in my surroundings. I snorted again to myself. Oh wow, this shabby joint really was rubbing on me.

I ordered another beer. Mark was behind the bar as usual and padded my shoulder as he walked past. His hands were full with work, the place was packed. I sat at the end of the bar and sipped the cold drink. So, what was it about today that had the place buzzing? I scanned the dancefloor and some of the booths but didn’t see anything too out of the ordinary. People dancing, people drinking, people making out, all of the underground queer heroes coming together.

- Hey Mark! How come this place is suddenly so popular? I chaffed at the old bartender. He rolled his eyes at me and leaned on the bar.

- Dunno. Could be the band that played down the road tonight. Heard they sold out the place. They popped up here with such an entourage it would’ve put the queen herself to shame. I’ve seen them around here before too.

- Where are they?

The older man pointed to a dark corner. There was so much people it was hard to see, but there clearly was something going on. Young guys and girls swarming and seeking attention from whoever were sat in the middle.

And then the crowd shifted and I saw them. Five guys, or at least I thought they were guys, sat in a booth that was surrounded with people. They were clearly life of the party, downing drinks, laughing, flirting and keeping court. Because that was definitely what they were doing. All of the people around seemed to hold them to a high status. They had a dangerous haze around them, and it pulled me like a moth to a flame. Finally something interesting was going on in this god forbidden place.

I was pretty sure I guessed which one was the lead singer. Huge blond mane framed his face, he sparkled in the dim lights with every movement and he looked like he was about to start climbing on the walls. He was very different from the rest. They all had dark hair and somewhat mysterious feel to them. At first i couldn’t tell them apart, then i started to notice differences. The one in striped jacket seemed to be having a genuinely good time, he was laughing a lot and drinking even more. He talked to everyone around him and everyone wanted to talk to him. Next to him sat a skinny young-looking guy with hair so wild I had no idea how he saw where he was going. He had a goofy, shy smile and talked to one person at a time. Then there was the artistic guy. I could almost hear all of his rings and bracelets tinkle together as he gestured wildly when he spoke. I doubted he even cared if anyone was actually listening as he partially hid under his hat. The last guy had a different feel to him, I could tell even from this far. He was more calm but had a dangerous charm. Like someone I definitely wanted to get to know but most definitely shouldn’t. He was handsome, too. Like, really really handsome. Stupid hot to be honest. Not that all of them weren’t ridiculously good-looking but he had something that made my insides twist. He too hid under his black hair and was downing beers in a supernatural rate. I’d seen my fare share of quick drinkers here but these guys were something else. The guy was having a conversation with someone, he was resting his arm on the back of the couch and had his body partially turned towards me. He seemed to be like at home in the situation.

Suddenly he turned and looked me straight in the eyes. I felt my stomach tighten. He’d probably felt my stare on him. My heart skipped a beat as I awkwardly looked around and back at him just to see he was still looking at me. A grin spread on his face and it took all of my will power not to drop my goddamn jaw on the floor. He was gorgeous and I wanted to jump him right here.

- Close that piehole of yours comrade or you’ll be eating flies for dinner. Or some of these pervs will stick their dick in. I know they’re good looking but get your shit together man.

Oh shit. I could hear the laughter in Mark’s words but he was right. Staring wouldn’t get me anywhere. Getting this starstruck wasn’t like me at all, but that kind of guys showing up here wasn’t ordinary either.

- Ha ha. I need to be a lot more drunk for my next stunt so pour me a vodka will ya.

It didn’t take long for the alcohol to kick in. Just enough for me to loosen up a bit. I usually didn’t dance, like at all, ever, but somehow I felt this was the way to go tonight. At first it felt awkward as hell, to be shaking my ass all over, but then I got the hang of it.

The music was loud and I felt intoxicated. Whether it was the booze or the looks I got I didn’t know. I didn’t get a second of peace as there was constantly someone trying to grind on me or hold my attention. I was having fun and I was damn sure I didn’t want any of these people with me. Every now and then I took a glimpse of the guys sitting in the corner, more specifically of the stupid hot one. The look of him just sitting there, all nonchalant and rockstar, made heat rise to my cheeks. I wanted to show off and hell it felt good to know that I looked good. All the attention was doing miracles on me and I got lost in the beat and the thought of him.

- Are you trying to turn me on right now? Because it’s working.

The low voice startled me. It took a few seconds for me to get a hold of reality. As I turned around I saw the gorgeous man from the band standing dangerously close to me. His straightforward approach made me forget how to speak for a moment. It should have not been hot in any way and I probably should’ve been running in the opposite direction right now, but I couldn’t help the shiver going down my spine.

- And you think that’s a good pick-up line? Straight to the point? I finally got out of my mouth.

- Dunno. Is it working?

- Have a guess, cowboy.

I had no idea where this conversation was going, but the man in front of me clearly did. He stared me down with a smirk on his face. He was so sure of himself in such a lowkey way that made everyone else seem either like assholes or iffy.

- Well I did see you staring at me earlier and then sneaking glances at me while shaking your ass on the dancefloor so I’d say you’re the one that started.

I could feel his piercing eyes on me, but i didn’t see them clearly from behind his hair. His voice was soft but somehow stern and it made my guard slip down way faster than i liked. It took a lot more concentration to keep my cool.

- Oh, that. Yeah I saw you and your gang over there. They say you guys are a band.

- Uh-huh.

- Let me guess, you’re the drummer?

- Nope. Guitarist.

All the while he was standing way too close to me. I didn’t want to take a step back because it would have meant he’d gotten the upper hand. I wasn’t gonna give it to him so easily. He took a long, deliberate look down my body and apparently he was pleased with what he saw because the one-sided satisfied smile grew on his face. It made something move in my lower stomach and I shivered again. Nope, no way I was gonna get all hot and bothered right here right now just from a hot guy standing too close. Nope nope I wasn’t a kid anymore.

- So what is mister Guitarist’s name? I needed a distraction, fast. And another beer. Or four.

- Looks like my pick-up line is working after all. Name’s Nasty.

The man cocked his head to one side and clearly waited for a reaction to such a name. I wasn’t gonna give him one. We were still standing awkwardly on the dancefloor. We definitely needed to move.

- Hmh. Does a guitarist called Nasty want a beer?

Finally he smiled properly. It was a lot sweeter than I expected and he looked absolutely beautiful. My jaw must’ve dropped because he chuckled.

- Took the words out of my mouth.

Damn it, I needed to keep my head clear. He was wrapping me around his finger as easily as he probably made playing guitar look. The thought of him with a six-string made my knees unexpectedly weak. Not good.

I felt him follow me tightly through the mass as I navigated towards the bar. I felt nervous, I suddenly felt drunk, I felt stupid and oh so turned on. Still. Not. Good.

There was just enough room for us to squeeze through. Luckily Mark saw me and handed us our beers in no time. The Nasty dude definitely was a big deal here tonight as he constantly got pats on his back, pretty open flirting and even some straight-up invitations to fuck one’s last brain cells out in the alley. Nasty had a mischievous smile on his face as he politely turned down person after person, all the while making sure I saw all of it. Gee, I couldn’t believe this guy.

I sat on a stool and took a huge swing out of my glass. Nasty didn’t take a seat, just moved closer to me again and leaned his elbows on the bar. I reeeaaally wanted to just watch him stand there, all nonchalant and disturbingly hot. As soon as the people passed, the smile wiped off his face. It had suited him, but the serious look suited him even more. It made him look more dangerous, more in his little role. Although i wasn’t sure it was a role anymore. How come it was suddenly so warm in here? In the corner of my eye i could see a few creeps eyeing us and whispering to each other.

I downed the rest of my drink in one go. Fuck me sideways till Sunday, I didn’t see a good ending for this evening no matter what happened. Either I’d leave now and spend the rest of my night, and probably the rest of my life, jacking off to the thought of this man. Or I’d drag him home, have a marvelous time with him and then what? Probably still the same outcome. Talk about fucking till Sunday… it was already Saturday night. Damn.

But my God was he gorgeous. His eyes stayed hidden behind his hair as he observed the people around us without a trace of emotion on his face. Definitely the cool guy in the band. His jawline was as sharp as they come and cheekbones high. I traced his neck with my eyes and landed on his collarbones. He had a simple tank top on and a light blue jacket over it. It was a bit too big and a little worn out, but it just added to his i-don’t-care based charm. His pants matched the jacket and he had tucked one thumb under the waist. His hands were large and strong-looking in the very way that made a guitarist’s hands such a turn on. I was probably eye-fucking the sweet Jesus out his tall, slim figure by now.

I thought i was being discreet drooling over him, but clearly he had noticed because he chuckled. A low, warm sound.

- Like what you see?

Shit. I couldn’t get my thoughts back together in the fragment of a second I had to answer, so I went for the least horny thing that crossed my mind.

- I’ve seen better, plus your rockstar attitude isn’t gonna get you anywhere.

Great. Now I sounded like an asshole. An asshole that’s been lusting over the guy half the evening. Wonderful.

- So you trying to play tough huh? Wont work on me. I can see right through you. He leaned closer and his lips almost touched my ear as he whispered:

- I’m just like that too. He squeezed my thigh so gently it would’ve almost been polite if it wasn’t for the fact that he was very much in my personal space and I could feel his breath on my skin. He straightened back up and smiled. That’s when I saw it too. He looked almost nervous and a lot more child-like than before. Then his mojo was back with full force. He hid behind his bangs again.

- Wanna go get some fresh air?

We climbed up the stairs back to street level. After the deafening music even this part of London felt quiet. We stood there for a moment, Nasty light up a cigarette.

- So what kind of name is Nasty anyway? I asked just to say something. And why would someone so gorgeous call himself Nasty, a small voice at the back of my head wondered.

He laughed a little.

- It’s not a real name silly. Just a stage name.

- Yeah I got that. But why Nasty of all things?

He was quiet for a while, then a smirk spread on his face.

- I’m just so so nasty. Want some proof? His low voice rumbled, I bet it was on purpose. I felt a shiver roll down my spine nonetheless. My lonely night of beer and man-watching was going south fast. I should’ve known better than to play along his game, but I was getting more and more curious about this Nasty-persona. I wanted to know what was real and what was created for his little rock band. I kept stealing glaces at him. He looked like the epitome of sex, drugs and rock n’ roll with his overgrown jet black hair. A creature of the night no doubt.

He put out his cigarette and i quickly turned my eyes the other way. No way in hell I was going to get caught staring at him twice tonight.

He stood quietly for a while. This timeIi felt his gaze roaming on my body. Usually I would’ve been more self-conscious but this was just gasoline to the flames. I wanted badly to see how he looked with fire in his eyes, so I turned my head back to his direction. He was just standing there and staring at me.

With a one-sided grin and a wicked look that bore it’s was straight down to my crotch he leaned closer and planted a forceful kiss on my lips. Jesus. My mind went blank and I skipped a breath. Jesus fuck.

- See? Nasty.

He had barely gotten the words out of his mouth when I covered it with mine. He made a noise of  surprise. No way I was going to let him get control over me like that. In an instant he was kissing me back with such fire it made my knees dip. He tasted like cigarettes and beer and bad decisions, but honestly? I was too far gone to care. All the tension between us blew up into that blistering kiss. His hands took a strong grip from my sides and he pulled me closer. I could feel his heartbeat against my chest. I grabbed his ass and unashamedly grinded against him. A small, unexpected moan escaped this throat and I swallowed it. He definitely wanted me as much as I wanted him.

- Excuse me! An annoyed voice broke us apart. A bouncer was staring at us with a look of warning, and as soon as my head somewhat stopped spinning I realised we’d better find a more private place before we entirely devoured each other. Nasty realised the same thing seconds later.

- Come on. Let’s go, he panted and all I could do was nod.

After what felt like an eternity keeping my hands to myself in the taxi we arrived to a house in Tootin Bec. Nasty was pretty swift in his movements for someone who was so turned on. Because he was very visibly turned on. My mind on the other hand wasn’t co-operating one bit. I just stood there and drooled as he opened the door.

- Good, the others aren’t home yet. I can actually make you make some noise! I blushed at the thought and I had no doubt he was gonna get some sweet sounds out of me. Mind is strong flesh is weak and so on. As if to prove my line of thought I felt my cock twitch in my pants at the sight of Nasty taking off his jacket. So much about mind being strong…

I tried to distract myself just so I wouldn’t jump him right then and there. I made a note of how messy the house was. Clothes, empty bottles, papers and guitar equipment lying around everywhere. It was pretty clear that there was five guys living here. Such a rock n’ roll cliche. Nasty grabbed a half empty liquor bottle from the nearest shelf and took a swing. He then offered the bottle to me and I downed a good gulp too. He chuckled as he put the bottle down. With a crooked smile he took a long good look at me again and stepped close to me.

- I think it is pretty clear I want to have sex with you. I just want to make sure that you want it too, he said, his voice rough from lust and alcohol. He stared at me with his beautiful, mysterious eyes. I couldn’t get him right in my head, he was such a weird creature. A weird, ridiculously hot creature who’s words got my head spinning. Sweet too.

- Trust me, I really really want to fuck your brain out right now, I smirked and got the exact reaction I wanted as Nasty shivered. He kissed me fast, bit my lip and grabbed my wrist. Without a word he pulled me after him up the stairs. I adored his ass with every movement as he walked in front of me and almost asked if we could to the stairs again just for it. Instead I opted for the less pervy thing that my no-good brain decided to push out.

- You really aren’t a man of many words huh?

- Nope. More a man of action, Nasty said and opened a door to a small room.

- Ohhh shy are we? I teased.

- Mmhm, Nasty hummed back matter-of-factly. It was weird, the whole man was weird, one huge contradiction. I loved it. It was nicer this way, neither of us had our roles on anymore.

The room only had a bed, a small closet with clothes falling out of it and a few guitars. Nasty sat on the bed and I awkwardly stood in the middle of the room.

- Now let’s get those clothes off, he squinted playfully at me. I was dumbfounded.

- What, like now? Here?

- Yes, well sex kinda requires us to take off our pants and stuff. Off they go. His face was serious but I could hear the laughter in his voice.

- You want me to strip for you? I couldn’t believe this man. Oh he had nerve okay. He nodded as a smile spread on his face. I just stood there like an idiot, my cock painfully hard in my pants, and stared at him. I had no idea if he was serious.

- Oh come on. Let me help you then.

AN: So this is the first part. The second part is still work in progress and it’s basically just shameless porn lol. I didn’t want to add it to this one in case someone doesn’t like that kind of stuff. So please please tell me what you think of this and if you guys wanna read the nasty part ;) pun intended. I’m awful I know

[mithranqueersmusings]

Before This Dance Is Through V

Chapter: 5/16

Rating: M (Smut Warning)

Summary: Ringo's being going through a dry spell for the last year or so and when he regretfully tells his best friend John, he insists on taking them to an all-male strip club for some "fun". Ringo isn't sure whether it's the alcohol, his desperation or a mixture of the two but he thinks he might be falling in love with a stripper.

Tags: AU - Strippers, Modern Setting, Smut, Slow Burn

Pairings: George Harrison/Ringo Starr, John Lennon/Paul McCartney

AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here

Despite what John had suggested, Ringo didn't go back to The Helter Skelter the following week; he'd considered it when John sent him yet another late night text but ultimately decided it wasn't the best idea. Spike had been playing on his mind daily and Ringo wasn't sure he was prepared to face him again. Instead he focused on his drumming and searched for a few more students to teach, which were fairly easy to find. Usually Ringo enjoyed his time off, he understood he was lucky that he didn't have to work a 9-5 job just to get by, but recently he wanted his fill his time up as much as possible, to distract himself.

One of his new students seemed incredibly interested in him, they'd spent an hour just chatting in his living room before they'd even moved over to the drum kit. Ringo wasn't too fussed, he was getting paid by the hour so wasting time was beneficial to him but he didn't want to give the guy the wrong impression. He was a little bit older and attractive enough but Ringo simply wasn't interested.

"Why didn't you just go for it?" John had asked him when they next met up.

"I dunno..." Ringo mumbled, but a part of him knew very well.

He'd given the guy another lesson since then and it became clear that the guy's interest in him wasn't going away any time soon. Ringo felt bad about the whole thing, wasn't he just doing exactly what Spike was doing to him? He tried to act as professional as possible the second time around in attempt to get the guy to back off, considering he hadn't heard from him since he was hoping it had worked. What was wrong with him? Was he really going to make himself suffer like this all because of one guy? And not just any guy, a stripper who had shown absolutely no interest in him at all. It was ridiculous, he kept telling himself, but no matter how much he tried to convince himself that he had to get over Spike, he would still think about him every day without fail. Trying to distract himself with clients had been working somewhat, but it had been difficult, especially when his best friend was John Lennon.

       youre gonna love me

The text came through when Ringo was sat in a café getting some lunch. He'd finished with one of his younger students, a sweet girl who's parents had tried to convince her to try a more 'ladylike' instrument but she had promised only to give up the drums if she was awful; much to her delight, and Ringo's for being able to prove the stereotypical parents wrong, she was pretty good. Seeing her always put Ringo in a good mood, the parents mostly stayed away partly due to the noise but mostly due to disappointment, which meant they could joke around together. Ringo could tell she admired him and he welcomed it gladly, one of the best things about teaching was inspiring others, at least for him it was.

        do i not already?

        well yes         but youre gonna love me EVEN more

        what have you done

        well i happened to stop by the club last night

        oh god what did you do

        wow is that how little you trust me

        can you blame me

        suppose not         ANYWAY i got talking to paulie

        surprise surprise

        do you want the good news or not???

        fine fine sorry

        AS I WAS SAYING i was talking to paulie         and he told me that your special little someone has an onlyfans account

        first of all fuck you for calling him that         second of all wtf is onlyfans

        oh sorry i didnt realise you werent living in the 21st century

        ......         care to grace me with your knowledge?

        basically its a website where you can post exclusive stuff for ONLY FANS to see         its not a porn site or anything but its basically where people sell their nudes         MEANING spike has an account so you can totally see loads of raunchy filthy perverted pics of him

        but i have to pay?

        well weve all gotta make a living

        i can basically see him naked for free

        but this way you wont get all freaked out and embarrassed         well you will but nobody will know at least         so do you want the link or not???

Ringo paused for a few moments, he was gripping his phone tightly in both of his hands as he unblinkingly looked at John's words. If his mind was going to decide to make him suffer by enabling his intense interest in Spike, he may as well get something out of it.

        fine

        where are your manners richard??

        can i please have the link to the strippers nude photos please john please

        alright calm down         let me know if its worth while i might have a look

        idk if im even gonna look at it         paying for porn is a little dated

        treat yourself ringo         id offer to pay but im broke

        if youre broke why were you at the strip club last night?

        well SOMEONE had to go

        they really didnt

        im supporting my local economy

        i dont think thats how that works

        sure it is         anyway here you go

Ringo stared at the link for a while, his eyes even began to blur, he didn't want to risk opening it in public even though he knew there was little chance of anyone seeing. He finished his lunch in a hurry and headed home quickly, only when he was in the privacy of his bedroom did he dare open it. First he had to make an account, when he saw the screen loading up asking for an email address and password he just turned his screen off and put the phone down. This was far too much effort for something he shouldn't really have been doing in the first place. But it only took a few minutes for him to pick the phone back up and begin signing up, he used an old email as it felt less seedy that way and he didn't want to risk his name cropping up anywhere for Spike to see. Now he could load up the link properly and take a proper look at Spike's profile.

Just looking at the small profile picture was enough to startle Ringo a little, the dark eyes looking into the camera with that unreadable glimmer behind them. He was shirtless in the picture, Ringo wondered why that didn't catch his attention first, with the frame cutting off just before it showed anything too explicit. The header was a photo taken from the club, showing him in tight, leather pants and tassels on his nipples which matched the whip he held in his hand. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. He'd spent so much time and effort trying not to think about this man, attempting to keep him out of his mind as much as possible. Ringo knew that if he went through with this all that progress would be lost, he'd be giving in to whatever strange obsession he'd developed for Spike, one that no doubt wasn't going to lead to anything good.

Ringo kept staring at the screen as though it was going to tell him what he should do. Spike's profile had no description, which wasn't very surprising, and it dashed any hope Ringo had of discovering something new about him. Right before he was about to put his phone down again, it vibrated.

        howd the wank go??

        john i dont care how long weve been friends asking how my wank was will always be weird

        youre right sorry         so how did it go???

        if you must know         i havent had a wank         i havent even paid for entry

        now whos the one being inappropriate??

        ha ha

        why havent you???

        feels weird

        oh i see         youll consume a bunch of unethical porn for free but god forbid you actually give sex workers any actual money

        you are the last person who can lecture me about unethical porn

        hey now watch yourself         ringo if you dont get a subscription I WILL

        go ahead

        and ill tell you every day what sexy sexy pictures hes posting         ill tell you EVERY SINGLE TIME i have a wank over them

        every time? i dont think youve got enough data for that

        im not joking

        neither am i         you wank A LOT

        ringooooo just buy it i swear to god         if its not worth it or you regret it or whatever ill give you the money back

        on top of the money you already owe me?

        have you always been such a capitalist

        youre not doing a very good job of convincing me

        fine         spikes cock         now are you convinced???

        maybe

        naked pictures of spike whenever and wherever you want them all for the low low price of 10 quid a month         convinced??

        fine fine         if itll shut you up

        im starting to think thats code for 'i really wanna do this but im too embarrassed to admit it'

        i hate you

        now that DEFINITELY code for 'john youre right'         anyway theres no time to be telling me how right i am all the time youve got dick pics to look at         even i wont stand in the way of a good wank         so dont bother replying to me until youve paid for that subscription young man

        im older than you

        DONT BOTHER REPLYING

Ringo let out a sigh and rested his head against the bedroom wall from where he was laying on the bed. He opened up the link again and his thumb hovered over the subscription button, why couldn't he just do it? The money wasn't an issue, it could've cost half as much or be double the price and he'd still be debating it all the same. Somehow it felt like an invasion of privacy, after all Spike hadn't told Ringo about it himself, but then again that didn't necessarily mean he didn't want Ringo to see it. After all it was like John said: everyone has to make a living somehow. Sometimes Ringo wished he could turn off that part of his brain that was so empathetic, so concerned about how everyone felt and what they were thinking. He knew that he wanted this, so why wasn't he allowing himself to have it? Ringo could see that he was being ridiculous, as he was with almost anything involving Spike, and after lying there for a while pondering and debating he decided to flip a coin. Heads would mean he got the subscription, tails that he didn't. He watched the coin spinning through the air after he flicked it upwards, then snatched it and slammed it down onto his forearm before slowly moving his hand away: it was tails. What a relief. Ringo chuckled to himself for being so foolish, settling down into his bed; it was still only around midday but he didn't have anywhere he needed to be.

So why didn't he feel relieved in the slightest?

This whole thing was getting tiring, the constant debate between what he believed he should do and what he wanted to do, and it seemed like it wasn't going to be ending anytime soon. Apparently he was in this for the long run, whatever that meant, but if he was going to turn down relatively attractive guys practically throwing themselves at him, he may as well go all the way. While he was putting in his credit card information, he stopped to think around three of four times, but once he'd finished and the images became accessible to him, his brain was barely able to conjure up a coherent sentence.

"Jesus..." Ringo breathed out as his eyes flicked across the plethora of pictures loading up on his screen.

There was a lot of them, and a lot of Spike was on display. Most of them were pictures taken at the club, either from a professional photographer in the audience or photos he'd taken himself in the mirrors backstage - Ringo could even see glimpses of Paul in the background of some of them. The ones that caught Ringo's eyes the most were those that seemed to be taken in his house, these also happened to be the ones in which Spike tended to be fully naked. It was very different experience to see him like this: a static image that he'd intentionally taken of himself and posted for so many people to see, an image that couldn't look back at Ringo and make him feel that strange mixture of excitement and shame. He began scrolling down the feed which only revealed more and more enticing photos. Ringo began to feel himself hardening, he suspected it had been happening for a while now but he'd been far too distracted to notice. He felt like a teenager discovering porn for the first time, it was difficult to remind himself that this wasn't anything new. Seeing Spike naked shouldn't have excited him so much, and yet it did.

One picture in particular drew Ringo's attention: Spike was stood in front of a bathroom mirror with a loose black tie lying against his bare chest, one hand was holding a phone and the other gripping his cock. He had dark eye make up on and his hair was messy. Ringo wasn't sure exactly what it was about this photo that was so enticing but he couldn't take his eyes off it. The prominence of his collarbones, the faint curls of his dark hair, how his slim fingers wrapped around himself. Slowly Ringo slid his own hand under the waistband of his boxers as he stared at the picture. At first he hesitated, his fingers stopped right above the base. It's not like this would've been the first time he'd touched himself while thinking about Spike, it would've been far from the last he imagined, but this was different. It was more concrete, more of an admission. Nothing felt quite as real when it's only being imagined, the haziness of lust fuzzing up the mind as it so often did, but now with a very real photo of Spike in front of him - which he'd paid to see - the feeling was far more tangible, far harder to ignore.

He'd come this far, he told himself as his hand sunk lower until his fingers were running along the length of his semi-hard cock, he may as well go all the way. To begin with Ringo stayed looking at this single picture as he slowly pumped himself, but as his lust began to grow he perused through more and more pictures: Spike kneeling naked in front of a mirror with a loose cigarette hanging from his lips, lying in the bath with bubbles only just about covering his nakedness, spread out on the bed with a gag in his mouth, handcuffs forcing his slim arms behind his back with his cock throbbing. None of this was anything Ringo hadn't seen before, like most people in this day and age he'd searched through the darker corners of the internet - sometimes willingly, sometimes John was to blame - but to see Spike in such a way was like an entirely new rush. Each picture drove Ringo further and further on, at times he almost dropped his phone with how sloppy his movements were becoming. Who took these photos? Ringo figured it was best not to think about it, the possibility that Spike had a boyfriend who took all these pictures of him would've been the quickest way to kill his erection.

Ringo began moaning and cursing wantonly as he got closer and closer to his orgasm, he had to stop flicking through the pictures because he could hardly concentrate on what his other hand was doing, so he settled on a final one to help him finish; it wasn't particularly strategic but he was definitely grateful that he selected the one that he did. In it Spike was looking directly into the camera, allowing Ringo to gaze longingly into the rich brown of his eyes and how his dark lashes curled beautifully around them. He was shirtless with nothing but a necklace on, the same necklace that Ringo had seen him wearing in the record store and Ringo couldn't help feeling a sense of satisfaction that he'd seen it with his own eyes, as though it meant something. Deep down he knew that it didn't but his inebriated mind was latching onto it. The nudity in the photo was hardly interesting Ringo by this point, although it would be wrong to say that he completely ignored the flatness of his stomach or the faint shadows of his ribs beneath his pale skin, it was the personal aspect which truly affected him.

This wasn't just lust. Lust Ringo could understand, he could compartmentalise it and give into it without much shame or a second thought. If this was just lust, he would've bought the subscription without a care and touched himself looking at the nakedness of Spike's body as though it meant nothing more than a way to get off. Yet here he was on the brink of orgasm looking into another man's eyes, eyes that felt like they were looking straight back at him as though they were sharing this moment together. It wasn't hard to imagine Spike's hand in place of his own, those deep eyes watching Ringo come undone piece by piece. Ringo's hip began to stutter, his leg twitching a little as he had to drop the phone down onto his lap as his head fell back against his pillow as his orgasm approached. It wasn't the image of Spike's naked body that filled Ringo's mind as he came, it wasn't his arse or his cock or even his chest, it was his face, his voice, it was him.

Ringo lay breathless on his bed for a while, the clarity that arrived as his orgasm subsided wasn't welcome in the slightest and he was reluctant to pick his phone back up to see Spike's eyes looking at him once again. There was no use in feeling ashamed about it, no point in trying to deny it any longer: his feelings for Spike were more than a mere passing fancy, that was clear. Exactly what he was meant to do about these feelings was far from clear but that wasn't something Ringo could figure out right now with cum on his stomach and the daylight seeping through his bedroom curtains.

When he'd picked up his phone he'd closed all the apps immediately, doing his best not to catch a glimpse of what he'd been so eagerly looking at before. Just as he was about to step into the shower to clean himself off, his phone buzzed; he almost couldn't hear it over the music he was blasting out. It alerted him for a moment as though it was going to be a message from Spike stating he knew exactly what Ringo had just done - it wouldn't have really surprised him had that been the case, Spike's face almost always looked like he knew something that nobody else did - but fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, it was John.

        sooo how did the wank go

         who knows          but on a totally unrelated note im about to get into the shower

         well before you do that i have even more good news 

         can it not wait?

         NO because you might cum just at the thought of it and then youd be wasting a good shower

         well arent you considerate          and unnecessarily graphic

         thats me          anyway im taking you to the club next tuesday whether you like it or not

         im still waiting for the good news

         well if youd let me FINISH          next week theyre doing a special event and we just have to go          youll never guess what it is

         what is it?

         guess

         you just said ill never guess

         youre no fun

         WHAT IS IT

         alright alright keep your hair on          its a crossdressing event          high heels make up probably a few wigs all that good stuff

         im still waiting for the good news

         OH COME ON youre telling me you dont want to see spike in heels and fishnets with some lovely lipstick on

Ringo gulped. It wasn't a difficult image to conjure up his mind, considering he'd been staring at photos of Spike for the past twenty minutes and it excited him to say the least. He did want to see that, very much indeed.

[professorxwolf]

We Need to Talk | C&J

What: A quick Skype continuation of the thread where Ciaran finally tells Jason about Clay’s death.

When: About..three weeks ago?

Where: Dark Moon pub, after closing.

TW: Death mentions

@professor-shaw

Jason: Jason Shaw hadn’t eaten much of a meal tonight, too worried about whatever the wolf’s text was even about. It had come at an odd time and it lacked their usual banter, simply asking that he come before closing hours with no motive or reason whatsoever. So yeah, that was weird, but the human had driven over anyway, jumping out of the car in order to walk up inside.

At first, his eyes landed on the usual crowd, already starting to gather their stuff and emptying the remainder of their drink, but Ciaran caught his eye real soon, looming over the bar cleaning. Fuck. What the hell was going on? He’d never seen him look like that. Was it about Kai? Frowning lightly at the offer, he pulled back a stool and sat, running a hand down his face. “Eh..sure? What’s up, man? You okay?”

Ciaran: Was he okay? Wasn't that the million-dollar question. Ciaran had been asked that more times than he could count in the last few months, and wasn't sure if he had given an honest answer even once. Seems like tonight would be no different. A broad shoulder rose and fell in an almost helpless shrug, but nothing more than a muttered 'Aye' left the wolf's lips. Once the last straggler was finally out the door, he poured himself a whiskey, the forgoing of his beloved Guinness likely further hammering home how dire the situation was.

When Jace sat, he reached out and squeezed the male's shoulder, needed that contact. But then, never one to beat around the bush, it was all out after a long sip of his drink. "Clay's dead." He stated tonelessly, navy eyes unable to meet Shaw's. "The whole pack..they're all gone"

Jason: Call him whatever you like, but Jace didn't like the way Ciaran was looking at him..and that, that just wasn’t the norm around the werewolf. Not once. It was almost like the man wasn’t there, his squeeze so cold and distant that Shaw never noticed his choosing whiskey over guinness.. but then again, he wasn’t expecting the news either.

At first, Jason stared back at the other..squinting his eyes as though he let himself believe it --Clay. His..their Clay..gone.. but somehow it didn’t take, his lips parting with a chuckle instead."...right, and I’m next in line for the throne of England.” he managed, eyes seeking the others. “What are you on about, dude? How do you even know?”

Ciaran: Huh... Not the reaction he was expecting. Shock and disbelief, sure. But flat out thinking that he could even begin to joke about such a thing? That wasn't something Ciaran was prepared for. Though he couldn't blame the other in the slightest, as who would want to wrap their minds around such a tragedy? Unwilling to repeat himself though, he simply leveled Shaw with a look that should have told him everything.

"Qhuinn told me. She felt it before anyone got to tell her, think that I may have too a little. Or maybe it was just her pain, dunno. She's not in good shape mate, no matter what she might be tellin' ya and Quinten. She ain't in any good shape at all" Ciaran sighed, rubbing a hand across his face. "Kai and Lexi were the ones to find them. They were slaughtered Jason..the whole fuckin' pack"

Jason: Jace frowned at the next look to come from Ciaran --no, he scoffed, and flat out slapped the hand off his shoulder, leaning back against the stool as if..a sense of no gravity had suddenly swallowed him whole. "No..you're still.." he managed, chuckling still..only this time his laugh was a lot drier, more forced than anything else. You just didn't bring up Qhuinn around Jason and not expect get things through to him. Especially when it all made perfect sense. Yes..she had been acting strange for the past few weeks. And yes, it'd raised the alarms with Quinten. So what if what Ciaran was saying here was really real?

Swallowing, Jace brought his fingers to his face and skimmed it down his face too.. "W-wait, Lexi knows too..? Kai? S'that why he left..?" Baiting a much needed inhale, it seemed like the human finally cracked, eyes getting all glassy all of a sudden. Inside of him, though, he could feel a very different kind of emotion growing. He was angry.. fuck if he was.."..when, Ciaran? When did this whole thing happen?"

Ciaran: The slap had his wolf, always boiling so close to the surface these days, coming to life. He was able to easily push back the instinct to snap back, both literally and figuratively. This was Shaw, his mate. One of the damn best ones that he had. And he never meant him any harm. So Ciaran polished off his whiskey in one smooth swallow as the other seemed to take everything in, there with a refill for them both when the truth hit Jason. "I'm so sorry mate.." He started, lips soon pressing together when the inevitable questions came.

"No, I think they had just gone for a visit. Kai..wasn't exactly a well of information. Left without a fuckin' word, if I'm bein' honest here." But that was neither here nor there, as his mission right now was to help Jason through this. When those startling emerald eyes showed the sheen of tears, Ciaran reached out again. "Not long ago. A week? Maybe two. Don't..be mad at them. Be mad at me, for not steppin' up sooner"

Jason: He shouldn't have been so brusque. And yes, he should have probably never laughed when Ciaran had done the one thing nobody else had had the balls to do...but his instincts had got him beat. Even more so now, as he wiped the tears off his face..refusing to be touched by anyone or anything as he swallowed down the missing bits of information that pieced the puzzle together.. incapable of uttering a single word that was close to intelligible. He didn't know what to say, not about Kai, not about how much Ciaran didn't deserve any of that..or this --no, Jace just turned a looked to the side becoming angered suddenly when the wolf mentioned how long it'd been. "Don't touch me, please. I can't do this."

Balling one of his hands into a fist, Jace reached for the booze, frowning something bad. Yes, he was mad at the two women..but he wouldn't bother arguing with Ciaran now.. "..do we know who did this..? Was it..hunters, maybe? When are we going to get them back for it?"

Ciaran: Ciaran dropped his hand at Jason's request, holding his arms up in a gesture of surrender as he took a step back and gave the other male his space. Even though all he wanted to do was grab him and hold on as they both mourned, seeking the comfort that deep down he felt he'd been denied. Or rather, that he hadn't opened himself up for. "Sorry.." The wolf muttered, downing another glass full. At this rate they were both going to be crashing in his office, but he had a feeling Shaw gave about as few fucks about that as he did.

"Don't be mad" Ciaran repeated. "Think of what they've been through. Lexi, havin't to find him that way. And Qhuinn, losin' him and her whole goddamn family. They couldn't do it..so I did. Don't channel the anger that ya feel at them" It wasn't so much advice as it was a command. He loved Jason like his own, but if he found out that a single harsh word had been said to either of those poor girls...

"Aye, hunters. And Kai found 'em. That's what he was doin' all this fuckin' time" Without access to a phone apparently, but that was neither here nor there. "Killed 'em. But it came with..consequences.."

Jason: As terrible as he knew he would be feeling much later, Jason still did not make a single move towards the other. He was scared he would break down..and let himself feel more than he could possibly handle now..or ever..no matter how difficult to believe things were. He needed /his/ time-- the time that he hadn't had those two weeks, while he was leading his life as normal..completely ignorant of everything. Again. "I can't help it, man...they kept it from me." the human shook his head, swallowing harshly. Ciaran was right.. fuck if he was, but he wasn't being rational right now..

It was a relief, however small, that the hunters had been dealt with..and so he nodded, rubbing at his face again before emptying the glass of liquor in front of him..then pushing it over for a refill. "For what's worth..I'm sorry. Same about Kai....is he okay?"

Ciaran: Ciaran's lips tightened into a thin line. Jason was the furthest thing from cruel, so he knew that he really had no reason to worry. But grief had a way of making people say shit that they didn't mean. "Not on purpose mate.. They ain't stoppin' and sayin' 'hey let's keep this from Jace because the bastard don't deserve to know'. Aye? They didn't tell ya because they couldn't. Because their grief is too strong for them to bear right now. Is it wrong? Is it right? Who the fuck knows. But it's what they needed in the moment. And I know they feel shit enough about it too so they don't need ya makin' it worse. Ya got every right to be hurt my brother, I ain't sayin' that ya don't. I'm just sayin' to not take it out on them" Ciaran of course couldn't speak for Lexi, but if she looked like as much of a ghost of herself as Qhuinn did, then there was no doubt she carried just as much guilt.

The wolf crossed his arms over a frame that had gotten a bit leaner over the last month or so, tucking in his hands so that he didn't reach for Shaw again. "Cheers. I am too love, ya lot knew him a fuck of a lot longer than I did. But he showed me nothing but kindness at a time when I needed it, and for that I will always hold him in high regard" Ciaran replied softly. At the question about Kai, all he could do was shake his head. "No.. I mean, physically he's fine. But he's..different. Everythin' about him is different"

Jason: The human let out a low groan and rolled his eyes, not taking well to being lectured about the right way to feel right now. About what he should or shouldn't do..how wrong it would be to be upset at Qhuinn or Lexi.. But yes, he listened, grinding his teeth and staring at the Irish man from across the table with the same glassy eyes from before..only darker, his body tense as he squeezed his fingers around the glass in front of him. Damn Ciaran for having a point.. "..I know..I know that they would have told me if this wasn't bigger than them. I know that. That they did none of this on purpose. But it still hurts..." he choked, angrier..even more upset, if possible. "..t-that I was the last to know..Qhuinn tells me everything../everything/, hard or not...and I thought, I don't know..at the very least I deserved to know. Tell me, if you hadn't stepped up..would I?..or would I have kept goin' about my life not knowin' my friend was dead like I have for TWO weeks? I mean, way to honor his fuckin' memory, mate."

Shaw brought the whiskey glass to his lips again and dampened his lips before taking another long sip, clearing his throat as he let his thoughts visit the memories he had with and about Clay. "..we hadn't spoken that much this past year ..we'd grown apart a bit.. and I was plannin' on fixin' that, guess I never will now." he said, smiling weakly at what Ciaran said about the alpha. Kai, however, erased that soon. "..different meaning..you guys aren't okay anymore? ..you still love eachother..right?"

Ciaran: Ciaran frowned slightly at Jason's reactions. But, in all fairness, he supposed he had gone all dad on the bloke. But he just hated the idea of more strain being put on those women. They both looked as if they could crack any day as it was, something that he could relate all too well to. But that didn't mean that he couldn't see his friend's point as well. "I know darlin'" He muttered, the little term of endearment slipping easily past his lips. "And again I ain't sayin' that ya don't have every right to be upset, because ya do. Just..try and help each other, aye? Take that grief, all that anger..and try and turn it into love. Clay wouldn't have wanted any of us to do anythin' else." He pointed out, then had the grace to flush as Shaw continued. "I'm sorry that I took so long to tell ya. That's all on me and I accept full responsibility. But I promise..ya would have been told. Likely still by me. But if not, by someone" He assured him, as empty as those words seemed to even his own ears.

"Aye...same. I know that Qhuinn had planned on goin' sometime over the summer and I was gonna join her. He knew that we loved him though. Ya gotta believe that Jason. He knew how loved he was. He had to, with so much love around him" Ciaran gave the other a tight smile, those shoulders lifting and falling once again. "If I'm bein' honest..I dunno. He ain't himself, though he insists that he is. Just a better version of himself. He made.." The wolf paused, once again trying to make sense of what had happened to Kai. "Some kind of pact. With a goddess, if ya can believe that. She helped him find the hunters, but it came with a price. He belongs to her now, or some shit like that. I swear to fuck Jace..I'm a werewolf and I didn't even believe that somethin' like that could even happen. Fuckin' daft of me, ain't it.."

Jason: "..tell me, do you ever get tired of doin' the right thing?" Jason blurted out, mostly still out of anger..which likely bubbled under the surface. It was an ongoing problem with him..and more often than not, it ate him up..especially in moments like this. That, is exactly why he took the other's lecture the way he did, running his fingers across his hair and covering his face with the same hand for a few seconds at the end, defeated at last. "..I'll try my best to do that..just promise me you won't pull the 'what clay would've wanted' card again--please?..not this soon.." A lot felt like too soon right now. Everything did. Licking the taste of liquor off his lip, Shaw looked up as the werewolf seemed to take responsibility for the late news, reaching out to give the other man's wrist a gentle squeeze..at damn last. "..it was never you job to do this..but thanks for bitin' the bullet. I...don't know what to say anymore.." Did he believe he would've been told? Not right now, no.. but Jace was done arguing.

Nodding yet again..but this time at the mention of plans to visit Vancouver, the human bit back the tears again and chose to focus on the Kai subject instead, saddened to hear that Ciaran was having relationship trouble on top of all this...on top of having to tell him.. "..well, if you ever need to crash somewhere else for a bit of space, time..anythin'...you know my place is yours." he shrugged, "But you ought to listen to him too, even if his leavin' was..wrong and unfair, by all means. See if you can love this new version of him.."

Ciaran: Ciaran couldn't help but bark a dark, humorless laugh at that little comment. Jason had been there through nearly everything he'd done and been through in the last two years, so it truly amused the wolf that he could still ask that. Even in the angrily joking manner that it was clearly meant. "Really? Ya should know the answer to that as well as I do. I've made my share of mistakes..real shit ones too. And ya can chalk this up as one of them" He relented, a long sigh deflating his lean form as well. "Sorry love, ya right. I shouldn't have said that. I'm just..tryin'. Ya know? That's all I feel like I ever fuckin' do, is try." The Irishman smiled tightly at the touch to his wrist, absorbing the simply human contact as he briefly covered Jace's fingers with his own before giving the other his space again. "I know..neither do it. What can we say, ya know?"

Another tight smile curved the man's lips, as he was now on the receiving end of a lecture. "I did, I have. And I get why he stayed away for so long. I would have done the same. I have done the same. But it don't change the fact that he left with no word, and stayed away for that long without lettin' us know if he was still even fuckin' alive. Not just me, but Kyle. The one that he made a promise to protect. I look at him now and I just see..nothin' Jace. No love. No emotion. No passion. He's like a robot now. I feel like.." Ciaran shook his head, swallowing hard. "I feel like I lost him too"

Jason: Jason looked up at the sound of that humorless laugh and felt himself lean back gently, mostly coming to terms with the countless times he had been the one to do what he was accusing the wolf of doing. Wanting to be surprised he realized, but still struggling to be.. "..well, for what is worth, you've kept me from makin' one." he said, clearly hinting at his earlier intentions of confronting the two women about his not knowing when they were not doing so hot themselves. It would have been selfish..and chances are he would have regretted it deeply. "..it's fine. I'm not really seein' things for what they are right now..m'too upset.." Jace offered, letting go off a wavering sigh at the contact as well, brief as that was, and reached out for the bottle to pour them both a refill, assuming they would be needing more than just a few socially acceptable drinks that evening.

Loosing Clay was not something he had ever thought possible and it was still hard to accept, as it would be for some time. "Y'know, I always thought I'd be the first to go.." He said, sucking in a soft inhale before their topic shifted to Kai again, his body tilting forward to hear all his friend had to say. "..yeah, no..you're right on that one. He could have at least left you a note telling you not to worry or where he was headed...as useless as that would've been. Maybe it would've been a comfort.." Shaw frowned,  falling quiet, or quieter anyway..the second the irishman mentioned something about feeling like he had lost him too.. "Fuck, I'm sorry, man...have you tried talking to Lexi or somethin'? Those two seem close..and maybe..I don't know, she might give you an insight, help you deal with this..but how you feel.." he started, reaching out for that touch again, "It ain't wrong..okay? Kai's got to see that too. It's you two against the problem."

Ciaran: "Aye..cheers for that. I'll consider it my good dead for the day" Ciaran joked weakly. Though really, if he did one good thing that day, that week, he would consider it a fucking success. "I still believe that we gotta get each other through this though. We're still a family" He pointed out lowly, dark head nodding at the others words. "Fuck, I don't even know if I'm seein' things clear yet. It's gonna take a while, it's just..too big of a loss to absorb all at once. We're all gonna mourn and deal with it in our own way, ya know?" The wolf let out a long sigh as well, accepting the refill with a small nod.

"Huh..me too. And not just because I'm older. He just seemed..immortal almost. Like nothin' could touch him" Ciaran agreed, downing his drink in one shot and absently reaching for the bottle. He did smile a bit, a genuine one, at Shaw's reassurance. It was nice to hear that he wasn't being an unreasonable git about the whole thing. Communication was important in any relationship, and in his mind, Kai had flushed it all right down the shitter. "Fuckin' would have been, instead of spendin' the last month tryin' to convince myself and Kyle that he was okay and comin' back. Bloody dragon is a trooper though. I wouldn't have gotten through it all without him" Ciaran admitted, then shook his head. "Nah..don't wanna bother her with my shit. If Kai has somethin' to say, somethin' he needs from me, he needs to be the one to tell me, ya know? That's the only way we can move forward" He reasoned, then gave another tight smile. "Thanks..really. I feel like I'm bein'..a real asshole about this. Like I'm the one in the wrong again. But I didn't do anythin' this time, for fuck's sake. I'm so bloody tired of bein' made to feel that way"

Jason: Jason smiled back at the werewolf just as weakly, glad that at least he could bring the tinniest bit of relief to them both. "..yeah, that's what I had hoped, but apparently they need their time. Maybe I just got scared they just didn't need me anymore..or that I was too human..again, you know?" he huffed, "I can't believe how selfish I sound..makin' it all about m'self." Shaw nodded through the rest of the other's words, and caught himself almost not wanting to leave here..dreading having to mourn Clay on his own..as well as telling everyone why he suddenly wasn't up for certain things. Like Celine's party.

"..yeah, you're old as dirt, man. You sure you don't dye your beard already?" Jace frowned, trying to look and sound serious but ultimately breaking into an awkward laugh, not sure his joke landed the way he saw it in his head. "I mean...how old are you again?" Taking a lengthy swing of his glass, he let the talk..happy to switch topics back to the new issue concerning Ciaran, eyes scanning his face when he spoke about some Kyle and what role he had in their relationship. Not that he was opposed to it, but they'd barely touched on it before. "..yeah, but I feel like sometimes we are too scared to reach out too, you know? Be it because you've built these theories in your head that it wouldn't be well received..or fuck knows..I just hope y'all can fix it.. " he shook his head, "You care..and there's nothin' wrong with that...take it easy..do what you feel is right."

Ciaran: "Ah love, ya don't sound selfish at all. Ya sound like what ya are: a fuckin' stand-up guy that anyone would be lucky to have for a friend. I can't speak for Lexi, but I'm sure that she needs ya just as much as Qhuinn does. Give 'em their time, they'll come around. Though.." Ciaran paused, raking a hand through his dark hair. "May not be my place but..fuck it. It is. Like I said, we're all family. I'm worried about the girl. I ain't seen her cry, or mourn in any way. Ain't natural Jace. At all. Ya keep an eye on her, yeah? Ya and Quinten have the best chance of gettin' through to her"

His peace said, Ciaran continued to finish cleaning, noting the late hour. He should get home, though he wasn't entirely sure if Kai worried anymore. But, he also kind of had a feeling that Shaw wanted to be alone to start absorbing everything. "Fuck..ya found out my secret. Better be as loyal as we all think ya are and not tell anyone" He actually laughed, running a hand along his dark stubble. "Last I checked..one hundred and seventy-seven. I really am an old fuck, but believe it or not there are those who are older" Ciaran chuckled again, then went silent as he took Jason's words to heart, as always. Do what you feel is right... Did he even know what that was anymore? "Aye..aye, ya right. I just need to figure out what that is. Easy peasy, right?" Ciaran smirked, shaking his head as his eyes fell on the antique clock. Fuck..was it really almost three in the morning? "Shit..time flies don't it? We should both get a move on, yeah? No need to fuel the rumor mill if someone catches us crashin' in my office together" He teased, eyes full of gratitude and fondness as he smiled lightly at Jason. "We'll talk again soon. Ya take the time that ya need" Ciaran vowed, as they made their moves to part for the night.

[kyukun]

Dear (OumaSai)

yes ofc! i listened to dear by cavetown when i wrote this bc honestly it gave off the perfect vibe for it. i was suuuper tempted to go heavy angst but i restrained myself hehe… hope you enjoy!!

prompt list

prompt: 52. “Why don’t you tell me why you really came here tonight?”

title: Dear

summary: Your teen years are never easy. You undergo tons of changes and realizations and it gets overwhelming. Especially if you’re Kokichi. 

word count: 1450

** slight homophobia, internalized homophobia mention + self-esteem issues

~~ prompt starts after cut! ~~

Shuichi awoke to a gentle tap on his window. It had to be around two or three in the morning at the time when he heard the knock. The sleep still apparent in his eyes, he gazed over the side of his bed and out towards his window. A small frame waved at him; not quite sure who it was, Shuichi decided to inspect it further. Was this a stupid idea? Maybe. But regardless, he got curious. So in his sleepy state, he walked over towards the body and as he got closer, he recognized the figure was Kokichi Ouma. Why in the world was he here so late at night? 

He knew Kokichi had a habit of not being able to fall asleep easily but this seemed a bit excessive. Shuichi worriedly opened up his window, grabbing an extra blanket to wrap around the teen as he flung the window carefully. “What are you doing here? Kokichi, do you know what time it is?” He asked as the boy giggled, climbing over into his room. Kokichi held a playful grin as the latter wrapped his petite body in a warm and cozy blanket.

He took a seat on Shuichi’s messy bed, “Hey, Shumai~ And well, duh! Of course I know what time it is, I couldn’t sleep.” Shuichi quietly shushed him, his natural voice being a little too loud. His uncle was sleeping not too far from him. Though he was down the hall, Shuichi couldn’t help but remain cautious. He could only imagine the kind of trouble he’d be in for allowing Kokichi in this last. “Right, sorry.” Kokichi let out another giggle, his eyes playfully rolled as his lips curled into a smirk. He huffed as Kokichi continued to stare into his eyes.

For some reason, something felt off. 

He didn’t know if he was being nitpicky but Kokichi didn’t seem like, well, Kokichi. His mannerisms were the same, sure, but something about the look in his eyes felt different from usual. He looked sad almost? Either that or deeply troubled by something.

Possibly both.

He knew Kokichi wasn’t one for discussing feelings though. The boy never really told anyone how he truly felt deep inside, bottling up every piece of anger and sadness he festered. It wasn’t something Shuichi was fond of either. No, he didn’t like it at all. He understood where he had came from but it wasn’t healthy fot him to do those things. And Kokichi knew how much Shuichi disliked it, but he never said anything about it. 

“Why couldn’t you sleep? Something on your mind?”

Kokichi bit his lip hesitantly. Yes, that was exactly it. Something had been plaguing his mind recently. 

“Nah. It’s more of a "School is making me stressed and tired and my body isn’t used to that yet” type thing, ya know?“ He confessed as his body became one with the bed underneath him.The black blanket that had previously been wrapped around his front lazily dripped off his body, the majority of it still covering him but parts hung off the side. Shuichi smiled, taking a seat next to the sprawled out teen. "Yeah, me too.” His lips formed into a halfhearted smile while his eyes remained focused on the plain white ceiling above him. 

His mind grew hazy. He didn’t like lying to Shuichi like this. It hurt him. “Are you sure you’re fine? You seem… I dunno… different?”

Ah, so he did catch on.

Kokichi sat back in silence way longer than he would’ve liked, going back and forth with himself debating if he should tell the truth. “Tot-a-lly fine, Saihara-chan. Jeez, such a worry wart.” He reassured, flickering his eyes towards Shuichi who had a worried expression on his face. He couldn’t see too well but he could still see his face glow a bit from the moonlight that entered his room. Shuichi had his eyes furrowed with his lips into a deep frown. He looked beautiful in every angle. 

Kokichi felt his face crumble into a scrunched up one, his entire body feeling like it was on fire.

He didn’t like it.

“Kokichi, listen, I know you don’t like talking about it but… Why don’t you tell me why you really came here tonight?”

There it was.

There it fucking was.

Kokichi could feel his own heart rate go rapid. Why did he have to be so concerned with him? Why did he have to be so nice? Maybe Shuichi would understand how he felt? Maybe he wouldn’t. A wave crashed over him filled with anxiety and self-hatred. Even if Shuichi was one of the most accepting people he knew, he couldn’t help but hesitate. "It’s just that… I feel… sort of… confused at the moment.” And with that word spill, the rest followed after. It was as though a dam on the brink of cracking had finally had its last breath, releasing all of the contents it had previously carried.

Shuichi shifted himself towards Kokichi, allowing for him to continue talking as he listened intently. “I… I don’t know. It’s honestly hard for even me to comprehend this. Sorry this is such a shitty explanation, I don’t know how else to say this but… I think—I think I’m gay.”

Oh.

Oh.

Oh shit. Well that was unexpected. Shuichi was a bit taken aback, not clear on how to process this. “O-oh, Kokichi—" 

"Stop. I’m not done yet. Please just… let me talk before you say anything.” Kokichi was now sitting up, his legs crossed on the bed as he was now facing Shuichi. His lips pressed into a firm line as he nodded, staring down at Kokichi as he fumbled nervously with his fingers. “I never really realized it until now, honestly. Shocker, I know. But… you know my parents aren’t accepting of these types of things and… I can’t help but feel guilty? Like it’s something I should be ashamed of or whatever. I mean, I’m not but that’s how I’ve felt. I’ve been thinking about whether or not I should tell anybody and you’re the first.”

Kokichi could feel the tears sting in his eyes and before he knew it, a few tears had already made their way down his face. “Hooray! Aha…” He cheered sadly, his hands balling into fists as he shook them in front of his chest before they eventually collapsed into his lap. “It’s sad, isn’t it? Here I am, coming out to you, and the most I could do was be self-deprecating while I wallow in self-hatred.” Shuichi could understand him perfectly. From the self-hatred to the coming out, he understood all of it. 

Being bisexual himself, he could relate to how Kokichi felt. Sexuality was a complex and intricate subject and experience. It would never be anything simple for anyone to experience, regardless of their age. “Kokichi, it’s okay. You’re still processing everything and that’s fine. Just know that I’m here for you, through thick and thin.”

Don’t say that so casually… Especially since I’m not even done yet.

“Thanks but above all, I think the hardest thing for me to accept is the fact that I…” He could feel his stomach do backflips as he shifted his gaze towards Shuichi’s face. Kokichi’s face heated up as his eyes finally locked with Shuichi’s. He bit his lip before he spoke. “That I like you.” Well that was definitely unexpected. “R-really?” Shuichi asked, feeling himself begin to blush as his eyes moved back and forth, sheepishly avoiding eye contact.

“Yeah. I’m not sure when or why but I do… a lot.“ He didn’t even know what Shuichi’s feelings were towards him. Yet there was some sort of gravitational pull that inched him closer subconsciously, and it seemed that same pull was attached to Shuichi. They stared deeply into each other’s eyes, neither of them even looking away as their fingers moved on their own. Next thing both of them knew, they were holding hands, their hearts beating in sync. "Sh-Shuichi, I like you.”

“I like you too.”

Their lips grazed one another. Kokichi could feel his soft lips meet his as his heart rose. He felt like he was on cloud nine. The sheer euphoric feeling of his lips could put him in a coma. Their hands remained intertwined as they continued to kiss, their eyes both shut but even then, they never broke apart. The mesmerizing touch of Shuichi brought him comfort; his soft skin grazing against his own sent him to the moon and back. Briefly, they broke apart, “Are we dating now, then?”

Kokichi giggled, his hand cuffing Shuichi’s heated cheek softly as the latter nuzzled deeper into his embrace. “Obviously.”