#like yeah women can be strong without bulging muscles. but i would like to see bulging muscles sometimes also 🫶

[courtesanofdeath]

actually props to gege for giving maki some nice defined arms. i just think shonen series should make more muscular women

[slasherrabbitmadness]

Beach day with the Slashers

Female Reader -Bo- Gender-neutral -everyone else-

Bo- Fingering but no penetration. Dirty talk.

Angst and Fluff with Herbert and Dan (They pronouns used for Y/N) Fluff with Michael and Jason.

Michael Myers (1978 with the extra height of the 2018 one)

> Wants to visit the beach during the day. He’ll even have his mask off. Instead of enjoying the beautiful view of the sun hitting the blue ocean, you spend your day staring at your handsome boyfriend.

> Michael is just there to scan for new victims. He kills people who litter, hates seeing wrappers and cigarette butts littered across nature.

> You egg him on to go swimming, it takes a lot of coaxing. “Please, Michael, just for a little bit.” He points to your belongings on the towel, “They’ll be fine, who’s gonna want to steal some sandwiches and some towels?” He shook his head. You got down on your knees and gave him sad puppy dog eyes. He grumbled then lifted you onto his shoulder, you squealed as you placed your hands on his firm back, rubbing his taut muscles.

> When he got up to his pecs in the water he threw you in. You came up for air, “Mikey, what the hell!?”

> “What? You wanted in the water.” He gave a small smile.

> He made you swim in front of the beach while he just stood in the water and watched. He knew you’d be fine, it was your belongings he was worried for. You caught his eyes, his already dark blue eyes were now matching the deepest parts of the ocean. He barreled through the water, pushing you aside. You watched him as he made his way up onto the beach.

> Some fuck had the bright idea to do some stealing. He just happens to choose the one man’s belongings you don’t fuck with.

> Before that guy had time to react to a six-foot-three man, hauling ass like he is a tiger chasing after a deer, Michael clocked him so hard in the face the man immediately went down.

> People stood around Michael, some congratulating him for knocking out a thief, others gawked “My God he swung that punch so hard.” “Is the thief even breathing?” Michael stood over your belongings, and turned back towards you, just making your way out of the ocean. Michael was mad, but not as mad at what he saw next.

> Some random beach Chad made his way over to you, “Yo, that was wild huh?” You gave a quick, “Ya.” not caring to speak to him, just wanted to get back to your boyfriend. “He just knocked that guy out in one punch.” You made your way up the beach, he grabbed at you “Hey, be careful, probably want to stay aw-”

>The poor sap never stood a chance, Michael swung his fist so hard Chad went flying back into the water.

> “I’ve had enough, we're leaving.”

> You were gonna protest, but when you scanned the crowd, you realized that yeah, we’re gonna go home.

> Walking back home, Michael held your hand, tightly. “Mikey?” He grunts, “You don’t like people touching your belongings, huh?” You turned to look up at him and he caught you in a kiss. He snuck his tongue in, dominating yours, you moaned and he pulled away. You whined and he smiled.

> “what’s mine is mine.”

Jason Voorhees

> He’s the beach’s lifeguard, so if you wanna spend a beach day with Jason, you’ll have to do it after hours. You would, but Jason takes the evening shifts too.

> Everybody loved Jason. Kids loved him, he was always so nice to them after all. He gave them swimming lessons. He was always so patient with them, never getting mad if a kid was struggling to grasp the basics.

> Men and Women loved Jason. His stoic demeanor, his calming presence...his bulging muscles. Jason was oblivious to all kinds of flirting. “Your hands are like, so big!” said a bubbly tanned beach bunny. Jason just grunts. A muscle-bound beach bro asked, “Bet you lift a lot eh, what’s your macros?” Jason just looked at his large bicep, he shrugged.

> When you visit him at work he gives you small waves then his eyes go right back to the water, not wanting to miss anything. Dedicated <3

> He doesn’t take a proper lunch break, he’ll eat his food while watching the beach, scarfing down the food as fast as possible.

> After a long day, you’ll finally have Jason all to yourself.

> Night swimming!

> You and Jason have splash fights, that he often wins, his large palms create huge splashes that knock you back into the water.

> Keeps you incredibly close in the water, will bug you to wear a life jacket if you ever swam without him. He’s very protective.

> Holds you close to him the further out you go. He won’t let you go, so it’s the perfect time to smother him in kisses.

> Jason hums into your kisses, his large hands running up and down your back, the water and his hands feel perfect on your skin.

> Jason couldn’t be happier that you're together.

Herbert West + Dan Cain - Poly relationship or what Derrick Barry calls a ‘throuple’

> “Please Herbert, for me?” He grimaced at you. Don’t you know how busy he is? Perfect specimens don’t just end up dead you know? Someones gotta end a life! You sighed and brought out the big gun. “Well, Dan said-” The moment Dan left your lips, Herbert was pushing you and him out the door.

> You and Dan had a blast, building castles, collecting seashells, playing some beach volleyball with another friendly couple.

> Herbert sulked under the beach umbrella, nose in a large medical textbook.

> “If you come with us, Herbert, we’ll get you a grape freezie!” Dan coaxed but it did not affect Herbert. Herbert waved you both off as if you were two mosquitoes bugging him.

> You and Dan walked hand in hand, swinging them in between yourself on your way to the little concession stand. “You sure it was for the best we brought him, Dan?” Dan looked at you and frowned, your eyes were a little glossy. “He only came because you were coming.” You felt the tears rolling down your cheek.

> “fuck, Herbert, you little monster.” Dan cursed to under his breath. Dan knew Herbert gravitated more towards him. It’s not that Herbert didn’t like you, just Dan was there first. Dan never told you but he often caught Herbert staring at you, a softness in his eyes that Dan knew meant one thing…

> “I’m sorry…” You mumbled, quickly rubbing the back of your hand over your eyes. Dan shushed you and brought you in for a hug, kissing the top of your head.

> “Don’t be, Herbert should be. Some Vitamin D is much needed for his pale little body. I’ll talk to him, okay? In the meantime, focus on me!”

> Dan and you continued with the most fun day ever. You ate your freezies, swapping flavors halfway through. A little boy asked Dan to help with flying his kite, Dan’s height coming in handy.

> Herbert stewed in his spot under the umbrella, watching you and Dan have fun, “Hmph, wasting time.” He kept peeking from his book, eyes on you, how you smiled when you looked into Dan’s eyes, how you leaned in closer, head resting on his shoulder. How Dan wrapped his arm around your waist, lips on your ear whispering...God knows what, Herbert can only imagine.

> “They could just yank me away from this, make me spend time with them...not that I want to. But if they dragged me away from my book then I’d have no choice.”

> When it got late, You and Dan packed away everything into the bags, Herbert supervised. How helpful/s

> Dan had you drop a few of the smaller items at the car on your own, he made Herbert help with some of the heavier items. As your figure became smaller and smaller in the distance, Dan turned to Herbert, “You know, they wer-”

> “I can’t believe you two, frolicking about so openly.” Herbert had cut Dan off. Herbert fumbled with the bags while trying to push up his glasses. Dan fumed.

> “You mean act like a couple, which we are, which you're a part of. Or are you only a couple with me?”

> Herbert snapped “excuse me, you and Y/N are most certainly a couple, which I have no part of.”

> Dan scoffed and shook his head “They want to be with you too, Herbert, They do like you, They feel upset with how you treat them. Now I know deep down you adore them, you best start showing it.”

> Herbert stopped, he looked at Dan and then at you in the distance starting the car.

> Later that night, Herbert had asked if you’d help in the basement. As tired as you were, you went to help. Herbert scarcely looked at you, but he found ways to touch you. Hands ghosting over yours as you handed him some flasks. Grabbing your hips softly to move you out of the way.

> “Everything good, Herbert?” You asked. His eyes looked everywhere but you. He stepped a little closer to you, His face only a foot away.

> He smashed his lips onto yours and wrapped you up in his arms. His hands rubbing along your sides, pulling you in so tight you were surprised he was strong enough to bring pain that way.

> “Don’t cry over me. Okay?” Your face felt hot, you nodded. “You are mine too, not just Dan’s, okay?” You nodded again. “Good. Now kiss me.”

> The kiss started tender but that just wasn’t gonna cut it with all the tension between you two.

Bo Sinclair /Female reader/

> Lookin’ at all the pretty girls go by.

> Catches you catching him staring, flashes his baby blues at you, “C’mon darling, you know you're still the apple of mah eye.”

> Gets pissed when other guys check you out. Strolls on over and wraps an arm around you, sneering at the Chads and Kyles.

> “You just had to wear that sexy little number, didn’t ya?” He snarled in your face. You grabbed your tits in the cute red bikini and gave them a Lil shake.

> Bo yanked you away from the beach, you protested, hitting his large forearm, “Bo, what the hell? Oh come on, you act like a leech an-” He cut you off, his lips slammed onto yours, the kiss was teeth and a little tongue action.

> Bo had yanked you away to some run-down looking bathrooms, the paint was so old it looked like the original coat from the 1960s

> “Now, Darlin, looks like you’ve just been wanting to rial me up now, huh? Wanting those sons of bitches to fuck you?” He leaned in close to your ear, his heavy breathing making you shake with anticipation. He suckled on it, causing you to buckle at the knees.

> “Bo, no I didn’t wan-want ah, the- them to” You were panting as he made small circles on your clit over your bikini bottoms. His fingers were calloused but he could be surprisingly gentle.

> “Now, yah best be quiet so no one hears ya, understood, Doll?” You whimpered and Bo flashed you his pearly whites. “That’s a good girl.”

> You should make him jealous more often.

[mostlydysfunction]

Wedding Night

Summary: You and your big orc husband enjoy your wedding night. 

Pairing: Orc x chubby female reader

Warnings: Smut. It’s literally just badly written smut. Size difference, face sitting, unprotected sex, exophilia, badly written ending

A/N: Finally after a century I have written something. This was requested by an anon, so here you go anon, I hope you like it. I’ve never written for an orc before so this was interesting. I took a more modern twist on it, and kind of based the orc off of WoW orcs, so I hope that’s what you had in mind. Anyways, enjoy the badly written smut with an even worse ending!

It had finally happened. You had gotten married. You had dreamed of this moment for a long time, since you were a little girl. It excited you, the prospect of being married, despite your family’s hesitation with your decision on a groom. Your mother had been understanding, but your father had his reservations about your choice of partner. But he was your father. He wouldn’t approve of anyone who wanted to date you, let alone marry you. But you didn’t care. You loved your big orc...husband. You could call him husband now. 

You leaned your head on his shoulder as he carried you into your hotel room. It had been a gift from your parents for the night before you would leave for your honeymoon. Tulgan had to duck slightly to make it in the door. You weren’t kidding when you called him big. You were small for a human, but you barely cleared his elbow when standing next to him. 

You didn’t care. You loved every inch of him. 

He sets you on the bed gingerly, ever the gentle giant. You look up at him in all his glory. He had stripped out of the tuxedo jacked during the reception and was currently laying on the luggage that had been delivered to the hotel early. The fitted shirt hugged his muscles just the right way, the starched white contrasting with the evergreen tone of his skin. He wore his hair braided back, a tradition that spanned centuries. You can’t help but ogle as he kneels down, fitted pants stretched across thick, strong thighs. You’d be out of your dress in a second if you caught a glimpse of his ass. 

You bite your lip as he grips your ankle, hand firm as it carefully massages the tires muscles. Your heels weren’t tall, but they certainly had done a number on your feet between the ceremony and the reception. 

He carefully removes them, setting them on the floor. Your skirts were bunched up slightly, tulle and lace partially blocking your view of him. A light moan leaves your lips as his hands slide upward, working their way to your knees. 

“Feel good?” 

You bite your lip, nodding. 

“You looked like an angel, walking down the aisle.” He parts your knees to settle himself amongst the tulle of your skirt. “I couldn’t stop thinking how lucky I am to have you.” 

You smile, tears threatening to fall from the emotional night you’d had. “Oh Tulgan, you big softie.” He chuckles, the sound vibrating through you. You reach a hand up, tracing a tusk with your finger. “I’m certainly the lucky one.” 

He smiles, eyes scrunching in the adorable way as his arms reach over your dress to wrap around your middle. He presses his forehead against yours, breathing you in. “I think we can call it even and say we’re both lucky.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, sitting up slightly. “Now, I’m sure you’d like to get out of this dress.” 

You nod, groaning slightly. “I was ready four hours ago.” 

You let out a squeak as he picks you up, hands on your waist. He sets you down, back facing him. Dulled claws work at the ties and zippers keeping the dress on. You start to feel slightly nervous again, your brain’s reaction every time something like this happened.

Four years and you still can’t quite shake the self-consciousness around him. You weren’t exactly a supermodel. You were...soft. Tulgan said he preferred you that way, wanting something to hold on to at night. He had spent hours reassuring you of his love for your body just the way it was. 

You had met plenty of orc women in your time around Tulgan, and none of them were exactly supermodels. You try to remember that as his hands release the last zipper and it drops to the floor, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. Tulgan’s hands are warm as they smooth along the skin of your waist, the broad expanse of his body pressing against yours. You can feel every hard muscle against your back, plus something else pressing into the dip of your lower back. 

“Happy to see me?” You ask, fingers splaying out on his smooth shirt. 

He chuckles, the sound almost morphing into a low growl. “Always.” 

Tulgan’s warm breath fans through your hair, still in its updo. You wanted to take it out, but at the same time you knew you weren’t exactly going anywhere. Dulled claws trace along the skin of your stomach, tickling you enough to cause goosebumps to form. You let yourself go, letting your body lean back against the orc behind you. He’s warm, warmer than a human, and it’s comforting to you. You loved his warmth, even in the heat of summer. It was like a comforting blanket, reminding you of his presence. He had sworn to protect you in his vows, and he meant it. 

You turn in his arms, hands smoothing over the broad expanse of his chest. It swells slightly in pride as your fingers begin to work on his shirt buttons. His hands are at your back, claws scratching your skin as he undoes your bra, yanking it down your arms and tossing it across the room. You don’t care to look where it lands, busy sliding his shirt over his shoulders and down his arms. You may have been considered soft, but no one ever said that about him. He was made of hard muscle, a warrior born in a time of peace. His strength was immense, far surpassing your own. You knew he could crush your skull without strain if he wanted to, but the way his hands delicately cup your face tells you he would never do such a thing. 

“I love you.” He says, running a thumb over your lips. 

You smile up at him, standing on your toes to give you as much height as you can. “I love you too.” 

He presses his lips to yours, bending down the rest of the way. His tusks tickle your cheeks, tongue quickly working its way into your mouth. You hadn’t wanted to stop kissing him at the altar, but you knew there would be time for it later. It was now later. 

You grip his shoulders, his hands waiting to catch you as you jump into his arms. His hands grip your thick thighs, holding you easily as you continue kissing him. He tastes musky and like the whiskey he’d drank at the reception before you had left for the hotel. 

He separates your lips as he lays down on the bed, holding you above him. You’re sitting on his stomach, abs flexing as he breathes. Your legs are spread wide across him, the wetness beginning to dampen your panties pressed against his skin, and by the smug look on his face you can tell he feels it. 

“You better lose that smug look.” 

He smirks deeper, hands gripping your waist. “Or what?” 

You give him your own smirk, leaning down to his ear before taking the pointed appendage between your teeth and biting down. He lets out a roar loud enough to shake your entire body, claws digging into your skin, but you don’t care. You release his ear, sitting up with a smirk. He looks utterly wrecked under you: panting, eyes hooded. His hands reach up, cupping a breast in each. He’s wearing the leather beaded bracelet you had made for him as a gift during your courtship, your own leather necklace still around your neck. 

His claws circle your nipples, already peaked, and he’d barely touched you. You know you’re going to get it, having taken a bold move biting his ear. His fingers pinch at your nipples, drawing sweet moans from your lips. He loves hearing the sounds of your moans, like music to his ears. 

You can feel yourself getting wetter, hips moving against his stomach. You can feel the rough texture of his skin through your panties, deliciously rubbing against your clit. He watches you, biting his own lip as he strains painfully against his pants at the sight. You are absolutely beautiful to him. 

His hands leave your breasts, lifting you up slightly, stopping your movement. You let out an adorable whine at the loss of contact, but he inches you closer up his chest until you’re practically seated on his face. You grip the headboard, his hands easily tearing your panties off of you. You can’t bring yourself to care, as his lips are on you instantly. His tusks press against your thighs, scratching against the skin. You know you’ll have plenty of marks from tonight on your body tomorrow. 

His tongue licks a line across your folds, teeth scraping against your clit. Your body jerks in reaction, grinding against his tongue and teeth. Jolts of pleasure shoot through you, your legs shaking from his ministrations. You hold yourself up, partially with the help of his hands on your waist. His tongue is thick and hot as it traces your clit, winding you up towards the edge you can practically see. 

And then you fall over, reaching your first orgasm of the night. 

He laps every drop, licking you clean practically. You feel overstimulated, hips trying to move away from him when he finally lets you go. He holds you against his chest, stroking your hair softly. 

“You good?” He rumbles, claws tracing patterns on your back. 

You nod, fingers playing in the dark hair on his chest. “Yeah. Better than good.” 

He laughs. “I’m just getting started.” 

He takes your hand in his, pressing it against the sizable bulge in his pants. You let out a quiet sound, feeling the hardness against your palm through his tuxedo pants. 

“Well, maybe we should do something about that.” You say, sitting up slightly and undoing his belt. 

He doesn’t stop you, watching you as you undo his pants, his hips lifting to help you slide them, along with his boxers, down his legs. He kicks them off, leaving himself bare to you. He’s huge, hard and leaking against his stomach. You blanch for a moment, wondering just how he’s going to fit inside you. He had to be the size of your forearm, easily. 

You reach out, gripping his length in your hand. You can barely get your fingers all the way around him, his own hand closing over yours, showing you how to grip him. He moves your hand with his, teaching you the rhythm he likes. You catch on easily, working him up more than he already was.

He pulls your hand away before too long, pulling you back against his chest. “You’re in control.” He says, sitting you over his stomach again. 

You gulp, but you’re glad for the invitation. You had never had anyone nearly as big as he was, and you knew it would take a lot to get him in. Regardless, he holds you up, using his strength as you situate yourself over him, easing the tip against you. You slowly press yourself down on him, a burning stretch to fit him even just an inch inside. You brace yourself on his stomach, legs trembling already from the stretch as your body tries to adjust to him. He sits up, wrapping his arms around you, breathing sweet nothings into your hair, praising you. 

You slowly inch yourself down his length, taking him more and more as you adjust to his size. You’re already fluttering around him, feeling close to the edge, and you had just barely gotten started. You hold yourself back, though, gripping his shoulders as you take as much of him as you can. 

He lays back down, gripping your curves with his hands as you begin to move, using his arms for leverage as you roll your hips. He’s so big inside of you, stretching you and hitting every part of you without trying you’re not sure how much longer you’re going to last, and by the look on his face you know he’s not going to last much longer either. 

You push yourself further onto him, taking as much of him as you physically can, his tip hitting something inside you that has you crying out. He groans at the sensation, his hips jerking slightly as you tighten around him. You repeat that movement, hitting that spot over and over, and before you know it, you’re practically seeing stars. He growls underneath you; the sound vibrating through your body as he thrusts up into you a couple times before finishing himself. He’s hot as he spurts into you, a sheen of sweat on both your bodies, but you don’t care, resting on his chest anyway. 

You groan as he slips out of you, a rush of fluid following. You moan slightly at the feeling, his hands brushing over your skin gently. 

“Are you alright, love?” He asks, touch gentle on your overly stimulated body. 

You nod, limp on his chest, limbs like jelly. “Yeah. Never been better.” 

He smiles. “Good. Because we’re not finished here.” 

Orcish stamina, a curse or a blessing?

[edens-breathless-melodies-moved]

words: 3.4k

pairing: kageyama t. x f!chubby!reader

prompt: sweat kink

warnings: cursing, oral (female receiving), fucking in a personal gym, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), sweat licking (he’s a freak lmao)

summary: kageyama knew you looked good while working out. the way your soft arms would suddenly flex and he’d see the muscles you were so good at hiding.

he knew he liked to watch you work out, but he never would have known that the sight of you covered in sweat would stir something so primal in him.

a/n: kageyama likes his women chunky you can’t change my mind. just to clarify, reader is an american who came to japan because iwa convinced her she’d go to the olympics if she followed him. she met iwa in her first year of college and quickly became friends. reader is insinuated to be a rather plush woman, but she’s ✨ s t w o n g ✨

“group bonding exercise?”

you repeated dubiously, blinking owlishly at the blonde in front of you as he just sits there and smiles, nodding his head.

you look to the other men in the olympic gymnasium for help, but they either shrug their shoulders in equal confusion or nodded their heads with atsumu.

when you had walked through the gym doors this morning with iwaizumi, ready to start the days training, you didn’t expect to have atsumu come up to you and propose a “bonding experience”, in his words.

hinata came bounding up to you with that ridiculous speed of his, orange hair bouncing in his excitement. he was practically vibrating with energy, hazel eyes glowing under the fluorescent lighting.

“yeah! we overheard you saying how you wanted to get back in shape and slim down a little, so what better group to help you out than us?”

all the men in the gym froze at his oblivious words, shocked that he really just said that to your face. kageyama froze in the middle of his lunges and choked, eyes wide.

‘this idiot really has no class…’ they all thought simultaneously as they watched the scene unfold with bated breath, waiting for the inevitable moment you ripped his head off and stomped on his body.

if there was one thing they all knew, they knew it was to never mention a woman’s weight. especially to you. you weren’t exactly the thinnest around, but that didn’t make you any less attractive.

in all honesty, you were hot, in all your foreign, sexy glory.

to everyone’s obvious surprise however, instead of killing the ginger, you laughed instead and patted him on his floof, thanking him for reminding you.

the team sweat dropped as hinata bounced around, clearly enjoying the head pat as he started spouting off different types of exercises they wanted you to do, bokuto and atsumu quickly joining in.

they all surely expected you to spike his head off or something, but they were pleasantly surprised and grateful you didn’t. they couldn’t afford to replace him so close to the games.

you see, you were no stranger to physical violence or getting physical in general. you had been recruited to manage the japanese men’s olympic volleyball team by none other than iwaizumi hajime, himself.

it was funny how things worked out because you two had already known each other before the offer was even offered.

you had met previously during college where you both graduated with the same degree. having spent the last four years taking the same classes and becoming best friends, it wasn’t a surprise when iwa asked you to come back with him to japan.

though you were pretty adamant in staying in america, despite knowing japanese, you somehow were convinced by him. before you knew it, you were saying goodbye to your hometown of los angeles and saying hello to tokyo.

because of your past with iwaizumi coupled with the fact that you both had the same degree and title, you two were known as the demon trainers from hell.

where iwa was all obvious brute strength and harsh glares, you were much more reserved but still equally as terrifying with your sickly sweet smiles and icy words if the boys were getting out of line.

but just because you preferred to make them cry with your words instead of your fists, that didn’t mean it wasn’t common to see you either hitting one of them upside the head or spiking a ball at them with deadly accuracy.

when the team first met you, however, they could hardly believe that you were a certified athletic trainer, let alone their manager on top of that. it wasn’t anything against you, you just… didn’t look the part.

standing at a whopping 5’4”, all the men on the team easily dwarfed you in height, and your body wasn’t all hard planes and corded muscles. you were soft and squishy looking, running a little heavy for your height.

you just looked so adorable and soft. your cheeks had this permanent blush across them from your constant sunburn (blame the california sun), and they always puffed out when you pouted.

but that was their first mistake; underestimating you. even kageyama, your boyfriend, had underestimated you, though he denies it now.

it was actually how you two had met, though it was under less than ideal circumstances.

he was bold enough to question whether you were even meant to be on their team your first day meeting them, unintentionally offending you and all your hard work to get where you were.

“it’s nothing against you personally, but you just don’t look like you’re meant for the job.”

kageyama had said without looking at you, and everyone, including the coaches, were stunned by his blunt and brash words. even ushijima was rendered speechless.

kageyama looked around confusedly at everyone’s silence and wide eyes. what? did he say something wrong? he didn’t mean to offend you, he was just telling the truth how he saw it.

it was only when iwaizumi snickered and everyone broke out of their shocked reverie that all eyes shifted from kageyama to you.

chills ran down their spines at the eerily calm smile you gave kageyama, eyes closed tightly as you took a deep breath in. “you really fucked up now, kageyama.” iwaizumi chuckled.

everyone’s hearts stopped when you opened your eyes, and even kageyama shivered when your gaze met his. the way the fire in your eyes seemed to run so hot it could freeze over hell, looked eerily similar to the look hinata gives on the court.

“so i “don’t look the part”, hmm?” you muse, smile growing even wider as you watched the setter fumble over his words, trying to save face.

you let out an over dramatic sigh as you tossed your head back, clicking your tongue once as iwaizumi let out another laugh before walking over to stand by your side. apparently this happened often.

kageyama stopped fumbling over his words as he watched his old senpai cross his arms over his chest. you chuckled as you shucked off your trainer jacket, revealing your plain black t-shirt underneath.

the team never took their eyes off of you as you raised your arms above your head and stretched. gasps rang out across the gym as they saw your flex and the muscles that bulged from underneath your fluffy flesh.

“y’know, kageyama-san,” you drawled, lowering your arms as you began methodically stretching your thick legs, sharp eyes never leaving his. “you’re not the first person to say that to me.”

“she’s right,” iwaizumi mused with a smirk. “i’m pretty sure i was, and i still regret it to this day.”

kageyama gulped nervously and the team could only watch in awe as you finished your stretching before bending over slightly to your left.

you lined up your shoulders with iwaizumi’s hips as you placed a firm grip on his knee and around his shoulders.

with wide eyes and jaws dropped to the floor, the entire team and even the coaches watched you lift iwaizumi with ease and settle him into a comfortable fireman’s carry.

atsumu, bokuto, and hinata audibly screeched and even the usually stoic sakusa and ushijima choked on their spit in shock.

without breaking a sweat, in a sheer display of strength and power, you casually walked towards kageyama, and iwaizumi couldn’t repress his snickers because kageyama looked like he’d just seen a ghost.

how are you so strong?!

your smirk never left your lips as you stopped only a couple of feet away from the shocked olympian, and raised an eyebrow at him mockingly. “what’s wrong, kageyama-san? cat got your tongue?”

you grin grows maliciously as he struggles to answer you, obviously flustered. “do i still look too “soft” or “weak” to be able to handle you guys?”

when kageyama still didn’t answer you, still too flustered and shocked by your impressive display of strength, (cause iwaizumi is not light, that man is straight muscle), you sighed before giving the gym a quick scan before settling on one of the team's liberos.

“yaku-san.” yaku jumped at your polite tone when you called his name, but he quickly recovered with a sincere smile. “yes, (l/n)-san?”

you shot him a sweet smile of your own, and chose to ignore the blush across his cheeks to avoid embarrassing him. “can you give me a number between one and twenty?”

yaku stared at you confusedly along with the rest of the team and iwaizumi fully burst out laughing, shaking on your shoulders. you fought back your own grin as you threatened to drop him.

“um, ten?”

you grinned as you widened your stance, feet placed shoulder length apart as you took in a deep breath, preparing your muscles.

“good, i wanted a decent workout today, anyways.”

and when you began to squat your best friend with perfect posture and ease, kageyama didn’t even register the howling screeches of his teammates as they lost their minds over this mini she-hulk they just got as a manager.

instead, kageyama could only focus on the blood rushing through his ears and to his cheeks as he watched you squat his senpai with a smile on your beautiful face, a singular bead of sweat rolling down your temple.

oh, he was in deep now.

—————————

kageyama knew he should be ashamed of the way he was staring at you, but he couldn’t find it within himself to tear his eyes away.

with a harsh gulp and wide eyes, he watched you as you continued on with your leg presses, eyes closed as you took in even breaths.

you didn’t even seem bothered by the amount of weight you were pushing, but then again, 300 lbs was something normal to you.

finishing your reps, pushed your legs out fully before locking the press, taking a deep swig of your water as you lifted yourself up from your reclined sitting position.

blue eyes followed the trail of your sweat as it glided down the side of your neck before being absorbed into the fabric of your sports bra strap, and he gulped again, pants suddenly feeling tight.

that feeling only intensified when you lifted the edge of your shirt to wipe at your soaked brow, exposing your pudgy and soft tummy. you’ve never looked more delicious to kageyama than now.

when your boyfriend of six months and olympian in training had invited you to his home to work out in his personal gym after you finished atsumu’s little “team bonding experience” you didn’t expect him to just stare at you as you went about your reps and sets.

you chose to ignore the hungry way he gazed at your plush body as you moved over to where the squat stand was, bar already loaded with your preferred weight.

not minding the intense stare from across the room, you bit back a smile when you heard the light gasp come from your boyfriend as you ducked under the bar and settled it comfortably on your shoulders.

you stood up straight and relished in the familiar weight against your flesh. stepping back with a deep breath, making sure your posture was correct, you squatted your first rep.

as you came back up, you weren’t surprised when you noticed your boyfriend had disappeared from his seat by the shoulder press.

what did surprise you was the sudden warm presence behind you, and you bit back a startled gasp when you felt his large hands come to gently rest on your waist.

“as a professional trainer, you should know it’s dangerous to squat without a spotter.” kageyama’s deep voice muttered out. he resisted the urge to dig his fingers into your soft skin as you chuckled.

“you’re right, but i think i can handle myself.” you musea. you held back a gasp when he leaned forward to nudge his nose against your jaw, breath cool against your sweaty skin.

kageyama inhaled the musky yet sweet scent of your sweat against your skin and had to bite his lip to repress his groan. why was he getting so worked up over this?

“squatting 320 isn’t something you just cover on your own.” he growled into your ear, and you finally realized how worked up your boyfriend was from watching you work out.

not that you can blame him, however. watching him do his arm reps and the way his back muscles rippled under his plain white tee whenever he lifted himself for pull ups had your yoga pants feeling a little damp.

sensing things were about to get hot and heavy, you stepped towards the squat stand to put up your bar, kageyama’s hands never leaving your waist.

just as the weight left your shoulders and was properly put away, you let out a gasp when you felt his cool tongue slide sensually up your neck, and you blushed at the deep groan that left his lips.

your own moans soon filled the air as kageyama ground his hard cock against your ass through his joggers, groping your soft sides fully with his hands.

you rested your head against his chest as you let him massage your body roughly with his dexterous digits, mewling and panting at the way he teased and pinched your nipples through the fabric of your sports bra.

“you have no idea what you do to me,” he rasped in your ear, maneuvering your bodies to lay on the padded gym floor. you let him spread your thighs as you propped your body up on one elbow.

you panted lightly as kageyama looked down on you from above, kneeling between your legs while gazing over your glistening form.

your baby hairs stuck to your sweaty forehead as your skin seemed to glisten under the fluorescent lights above.

blue eyes zeroed in on a stray drop of sweat that glided from your neck and began its descent down the valley of your breasts.

something in him snapped and he lunged forward, causing you to yelp in surprise before moaning as he tongue followed the sweat drops path, groaning against your heated skin at the salty taste.

he needed more.

“the way you look when you’re working out, the way your sweat makes your skin glow,” a whine escaped your lips as he nipped gently at your collar bone.

he lifted his head to meet your eyes and you gasped at the feral look in his blue orbs, pupils blown wide with lust.

“you make me so hungry, (y/n).” before you had a chance to respond to him, the sudden sound of fabric tearing and your inner thighs exposed to cool air made you balk, and you stared at your boyfriend in shock.

“you did not just rip open my yoga pants!” kageyama gave you a blank look before shrugging, leaning his face down to your exposed core, pleased to find that you were already dripping onto the floor.

“i’ll buy you another pair.” a breathy moan replaced your curse for his causal destruction of your clothing as he licked a fat stripe up your cunt, fingers digging harshly into the plumpness of your thighs as he drank in your flavor.

moans spilled from your parted lips uncontrollably as kageyama ate you out, tongue flicking and suckling against your clit as one of his hands released your thigh in favor of sinking two fingers into your hot core.

“fuck!” you choke out in a whisper as you wind your fingers through his silky locks, gripping them tightly as you roll your hips into his face.

kageyama took your grinding on his face in stride, speeding up the movements of his fingers as he searched your walls for that one spot that made you see stars.

“a-ah!” you cried out, thighs clenching around his head as he smirked into your flesh. found it. tears began pricking your eyes as your body was assaulted with pleasure, kageyama’s fingers slamming right into your g-spot.

kageyama knew you were getting close when he felt your walls flutter around his fingers and your soft moans began growing louder as you neared your release.

with a snarl, kageyama pulled his fingers from you roughly and sat up from in between your legs. your whimper at the sudden emptiness was swallowed by him as he slammed his lips to yours hungrily.

you moaned into the kiss, tasting yourself as you felt him fumble with the tie on his joggers before pulling them down along with his boxers to free his cock.

kageyama pulled away from the kiss, greedily taking in your breathless and flushed expression before slowly pushing his length into you, groaning as he forced your walls to accommodate his girth and impressive length.

tears sprung in your eyes and fell down your soft cheeks as you cried at the stretch, mind going delirious from the pleasure as your boyfriend continued to sink into you.

kageyama leaned down to lick up your tears before roughly snapping his hips into you, sinking the rest of the way in as his pelvis settled flush against you.

you choked as he bottomed out, and your hands instinctively went to grip onto his muscular shoulders, nails digging into his flesh hard enough to leave marks.

kageyama groaned at the feeling of your walls clenching around him, and he pulled back before slamming into you, relishing the way your walls seemed to suck him back in.

“tobio!” you cried out, voice breathless and wobbly as he slammed directly into your g-spot. kageyama smirked at your already fucked out expression, and slammed his cock into you again.

nothing but the sound of skin against skin and your wanton moans filled the stuffy gym air as kageyama pounded into you.

“fuck, (y/n),” kageyama groaned, leaning back on his haunches as he pounded into your sopping cunt, holding your legs up by your knees while biting his lip, watching you lose yourself on his cock.

your soft stomach jiggled with each thrust, shirt having ridden up while you squeezed your breasts through your bra, eyes crossing from the pleasure.

“fuck! you feel too f-fucking good!” you moaned, voice stuttering from the intensity kageyama was fucking into you with. kageyama smiled down at you, cheeks flushed from the compliment. “you’re taking me so well, pretty thing.”

he hissed as you clenched around him. apparently you liked that. so he continued.

“you feel so nice and tight around me, pretty girl.” he moaned out, feeling his high begin to approach him as your soft walls fluttered around him. he let one of your legs drop as he brought a hand to your aching clit.

rubbing tight circles into your sensitive nub, he sped up his hips until you were practically sobbing from the pleasure, coming dangerously close to tipping over the edge.

kageyama groaned at the sight of your flushed cheeks shining with tears and sweat, swollen pink lips caught in your teeth as you stared up at him with furrowed brows.

“i-i’m close!” you stuttered out, body beginning to seize while you could practically taste your orgasm. kageyama wasn’t any better, his hips losing rhythm as he opted to just pounding into you with whatever he’s got left.

“go on, pretty girl.” he huffed out, lazy smile curling his lips as he continued rubbing your clit with precise circles. “make a mess on me.”

a scream ripped through your vocal cords as you spasmed on his cock, eyes clenching shut as you clamped around him so tightly kageyama became lightheaded.

with a choked moan of his own he came deep inside you, filling you up to the brim with his cum as he fell forward, stopping himself from falling onto you as he held himself up with his arms.

you both sat there for a while, desperately trying to catch your breaths as you eventually came down from your highs.

opening your eyes, you find that kageyama was already staring at you, eyes softened and face still flushed from his high. you watched as a singular bead of sweat rolled down his nose before dropping onto the corner of your mouth.

without even thinking, your tongue swiped out to lick it up, and you saw your boyfriend’s eyes harden again, and a gasp escaped you as he rutted his hips into yours, cock twitching back to life.

a devious smirk filled his face, and he raised a singular eyebrow at you in challenge.

“you don’t think we’re done, do you? we still have a lot more sets to finish.”

taglist: @lovelypasteldreams @living-for-drama @arixtsukki @month-seasoning @bakarinnie

[portiaadams]

Meyer and Charlie Smut

I wrote Lanskiano smut. It’s embedded in my Richard Harrow/Clara Thompson story. For those who don’t care about Richard and my OC, here is Charlie and Meyer having a moment

December 31st, 1921

The sound of the engine and the clacking of the train against the rails filled the room, but could not overcome the roaring silence between the room's inhabitants. Charlie adjusted his legs once more, trying to find some way to fit them on the single bed. God damn it, this was a bed for a child not a grown fucking man. The Darmody kid was probably too big for it.  Charlie wasn't sure how long he'd been awake-this time-but it was one of many things really pissing him off.

From the larger bed there was a quick flash of light and then the scent of sulfur and tobacco. "I offered to take that bed," Meyer said after a slow exhale.

"Them shoulders of yours wouldn't have even fit," Charlie groused.

Determining Charlie's mood came as naturally to him as determining the weather before he stepped off his stoop. Certainly, Charlie's moods could be as mercurial as the weather. And at the moment, Charlie's mood registered as stormy.

"Charlie," Meyer began.

"Can it, Meyer," Charlie answered and swung his legs off the bed, stumbling in the dark for his own cigarettes and lighter.

"You are being irrational," Meyer responded.

"That brutto figlio di puttana bastardo was up your ass all night. You enjoyed though, didn't ya?"

Meyer sighed. Charlie acted like he was the only one who wanted. Meyer's first memory was wanting. Wanting enough to eat, wanting a warmer fire, wanting. Those years when his father was gone and he did all a kid could do to keep his mother and siblings fed and warm.

But wanting. Wanting in America was sharper, brighter, different. There was so much more to want. From the moment he stepped off the ship he moved as fast as his little legs would carry him. He moved to learn English, to get out of the classroom full of tiny children and catch up with his peers, he moved to learn the streets and determine how to make money any way he could. He moved as fast as he could because he knew the goal was to leave the Lower East Side behind him. To move fast enough that one day he could even outrun wanting.

But nothing, not a lifetime of yearning for acceptance and security, held a candle to his ever-present need for Charlie. There was no part of him that did not want every part of Charlie. And as much as his wants dictated every carefully crafted move of his life, there was nothing he wanted more than Charlie. In his life, in his office, in his bed. Even if it made no sense. Even if it had no place in his plan.

"He was circling round you like a bitch in heat," Charlie continued.

"The way Gillian Darmody circled around you? The way the chorus girls do?" Meyer snapped back. He spent years, he spent agonizing nights, watching Charlie charm women whose desire for him was as clear as the powder on their faces.

"That's different, and you know it well as me."

"How?"

"They're broads, Meyer! It don't matter like..." Charlie stopped talking, not knowing how to put into words what mattered. They was just broads. They wasn't in his mind like Meyer was. Even Meyer wasn't with him he could still hear the little addin' machine in his head, telling him to be smart. Telling him to think.

Being with those women was like grabbing a dog from a cart and eating it on the street. Scratched the itch of need. Satisfying enough at the moment.

Being with Meyer was different and Meyer damn well knew it. They was friends and they was more and when more changed to be even more...It ain't like people understood their friendship anyway. The Jew and the Italian.  They was supposed to be mortal enemies, not friends for life. Not...whatever they was.

"I gotta keep up appearances," Charlie said because that was also a true thing. He hadn't told Meyer that Clara knew. No need to introduce complications. They was careful. They was always careful. "That's why I can't believe you let the guy get near you like that."

Meyer shook his head. "Charlie, he's married. To Lady Rose. I think he's just an adventurer."

"Yeah. I know what adventure he's after," Charlie responded.

"A man like that..."

"What? You think you ain't good enough for a fonferer like that cercatore d'oro? What, you just good enough for the likes of me, that it?"

The petulance in Charlie's voice was so familiar. "Charlie, come here."

"Mey, I ain't in the mood."

Meyer doubted that. Charlie was rarely not in the mood. "Charlie," he said again.

Charlie heard the gruff tone in Meyer's voice. He was angry, he was still angry, but that tone in Meyer's voice always did the same thing to him. Instinct drove him to Meyer's side.

Didn't mean he wasn't still angry, though. He sat next to Meyer silently. One man wearing an undershirt that buttons with sleeves that come down to his elbows, although the width of his shoulders and upper arms often mean the seams ripped and tore and stretched due to the strain placed upon them. The other man wore the new kind of undershirt-knit, sleeveless, no buttons.

Charlie told Meyer all the time he should switch. Be more modern. But Meyer couldn't quite break away from tradition in some matters.

"There will always be others, won't there, Charlie?" Meyer asks, and even though he knew the answer for a moment he willed Charlie to lie to him. "After all, we'll have to marry one day, won't we?"

"I ain't. Look at Harrow and Clara."

Meyer turned to stare at Charlie. Personally, he thought Harrow had chained himself to a klafte in pearls. But the man seemed to love her. And Clara seemed as happy as he thought her capable of being.

"Harrow seems content enough."

"That ain't the thing, Mey. They love each other. But we all know how this ends. Clara sobbing over a morgue slab with Darmody's brat and a baby or two besides clinging to her. I ain't gonna do that to a woman."

Such a delicate jaw in such a strong face, Meyer thought idly before bringing Charlie's face to his. Charlie didn't fight it, and soon their mouths were finishing the disagreement. Charlie fell first-Charlie always fell first-letting his mouth open and Meyer plunder its depths.

Charlie's mouth tasted of hot honey and something deeper, sweeter, more savory. It was the taste and sensation he spent a lifetime chasing down in penny candy bins and bakeries and sweet shops. Much like with the candy he had kept in his pockets from the first time he had spare pennies, he knew he'd never have enough of it.

It was the sweetness he'd always craved.

The hard, taut muscles of Charlie Luciano's body, the ones that struck fear around the underworld (and occasionally in the upper echelons) of New York went soft and loose as something else grew hard. Without realizing it, Meyer turned Charlie so he was on his knees, his head laying on the soft Irish linen pillowcase embroidered with the ever-present P.

Meyer's left hand drifted over the hard muscles of Charlie's stomach down to the mother of pearl buttons on Charlie's beloved silk boxers. His fingers drifted over the buttons but didn't try to undo them. Instead, he reached down to the impossibly soft skin of Charlie's inner thigh and began drawing lazy circles. His right hand combed through Charlie's thick dark curls before yanking sharply so Charlie had to turn his face to Meyer to save his hair, their faces so close they were breathing in each other's breaths.

"Tell me, Charlie. Tell me why I'm different from Gillian and those broads."

Charlie's breath was hot and fast. "God damn it, Mey. Just touch me."

"Tell me the things I do to you I'll never do to Dennis Malley," Meyer said, his hand cupping over Charlie's bulge momentarily before going back to stroking his inner thigh.

"You do lots of stuff I'd fucking kill anybody else for," Charlie said, knowing they were journeying into uncharted territory. "You knot up my god damn hands with your tie."

Meyer leaned over so his face was against the smooth back of Charlie's neck, wanting to inhale Charlie's scent, wanting to inhale Charlie. "Yes, true. What else," he asked while his hand slid under the paisley silk to caress the very tip of Charlie's cock.

Charlie tried to push his hips into Meyer's fingers but Meyer removed his hand from Charlie's hair and grabbed him around the hips. "Don't even try it," Meyer whispered harshly.

"You put your prick in my mouth and push it in until I choke. You like it when I choke."

True, Meyer thought, because who wouldn't want Charlie on his knees? Who wouldn't want to see those pretty lips wrapped around their cock? He rewarded Charlie with a quick tug that made both of them momentarily forget to breathe.

"You make me grab my own prick and you watch. Sometimes you put your fingers in...god damn it, Meyer, you know where you put your fingers."

For a moment Meyer's hands brushed back against the buttons. What did it matter, he decided, Charlie bought his silk underwear by the gross. He yanked on them so hard that the mother of pearl buttons scattered across the thick antique rug. Filled with a need to feel the silky soft flesh of Charlie's back under the thick fur of his chest he first pushed up Charlie's undershirt until it was wrapped around Charlie's shoulders before Meyer sat back on his own knees to more carefully remove his own underthings. After all, he'd spent good money on them. No need for carelessness.

"For our mutual benefit you should continue," Meyer growled, fighting the urge to have Charlie right now.

Charlie licked his lips. Meyer was leaning over him to grab something from the bag on the floor, causing Meyer's dick to press against his lower back. It gave him some satisfaction to realize Meyer was as hard as he was. He writhed under Meyer and was rewarded by Meyer groaning above him. He heard the sound of glass and the knowledge of what was in Meyer's hand made precum start leaking out of the tip of his dick.

"You put on oil on your fingers and then you put oil on me and sometimes you put oil on my hand so I can rub it on your dick," Charlie finally managed to say.

Meyer's hand was covered with oil as it started massaging the top of Charlie's ass. Charlie groaned as Meyer's fingers slipped into his crack.

The light coming in the edges of the curtains was changing but Meyer was too distracted by the sight in front of him to think about what that meant. He was intoxicated by the scent, sight, and feel of Charlie. "What else?"

The linen of the pillowcase was now being crushed between Charlie's fingers. The fuck if he was going to ruin this moment like a damn kid. "You put me on my side," Charlie continued after taking a deep breath and Meyer moved him so quickly he fell onto his side with a thump.

After positioning Charlie's legs to his liking Meyer continued to let his hand move down.

"You push your fingers inside me," Charlie managed to gasp out as he felt one of Meyer's fingers breach him. "Mey, your fingers are so fucking thick."

Meyer lowered his mouth onto the top of Charlie's shoulders, his own breath coming at an incredibly thick pace, overtaken by the need to taste Charlie's flesh salty and warm under his tongue. Neither man noticed the bedside clock striking six.

Nor did they notice the train was no longer rocking beneath them.

With great care Meyer worked in a second finger and started scissoring, looking for the spot that always made Charlie howl.

Charlie howled. Meyer pressed harder.

"God damn it, Meyer, god damn it..." Charlie pleaded.

"Say it," Meyer begged, his breath hot against Charlie's ear, the game having rebounded until his need was as raw and urgent as Charlie's own.

"I want you, Mey, please," Charlie finally sobbed out. "You fuck me, you fuck me, holy mother of god please just fuck me."

"Charlie, god," Meyer breathed out, his heart hammering in his chest.

The words falling from Charlie's mouth dissolved into nonsense. For a moment their faces were pressed together, letting Meyer feel the pulse in Charlie's temple in the bones of his own face.

Once more Meyer pressed his fingertips against Charlie's jaw and their mouths opened to each other. There was no more dominance or one-upmanship. Instead, there was the slow slide of their mouths melding together until Meyer can no longer determine where he ends and Charlie begins.

One hand gripped Charlie's hip, holding him in place. Meyer could feel the tenseness in Charlie when he first breached him and the pain hit, but after a moment he could feel Charlie's muscles relaxing under his hand.

"I gotta move, tesoro," Meyer finally breathed out.

One of Charlie's hands braced against the soft mossy velvet of the headboard while his other reached back for any part of Meyer he could touch. It didn't matter that Meyer was ever so slowly moving ever deeper inside him. He needed more. He wanted everything.

"Move, libster. Damn it, move," Charlie answered, his hand finally finding Meyer's ass to pull him closer, to pull him further in.

Time lost meaning. Seconds, minutes, hours, days fell away. There was just this. Meyer's hand finally came around to touch Charlie in the way Charlie had wanted since the game began, since time began.

Finally, they fell into the soaked sheets, the ruins of Charlie's underthings trapped beneath them, their legs and hands twisted together, both of them breathless and boneless. Their faces were still pressed together and as Meyer relaxed back into sleep he realized their faces were wet.

He wasn't sure who had cried.

[americasass91]

Is there a chance you can do my request. It’s the stucky fic I suggested earlier, though if you struggle you can make it Steve and reader. I would send the whole request again, but I can’t copy it sorry. Thanks!

Here’s the original request:

So here is my first ever Stucky fic! I’m sorry this took me a little longer than normal. I’m extremely nervous to post it. Only because I want to do Stucky justice! I hope it was what you had in mind with your request! I did go smutty with it. Not as smutty as I normally do. But as smutty as I was comfortable with going. Anyway thank you so much for the request and I hope you enjoy it!

Rating: Explicit of course

Words:2.6k

Warnings: smut, hand job, oral, male/male, Steve being cocky

Hidden Feelings

Saturdays should be for sleeping in or being a lazy bum on the couch. The day to relax after a long ass week.

They should not be for working out.

God Bucky hated working out. But he especially hated it on Saturdays. Which is why he was laying in bed, contemplating just staying there. The only reason he even agreed is because Steve had asked him and well he can’t really say no to Steve.

Steve.

Steve with his stupid, perfect blonde hair. And his stupid ocean eyes. And his stupid bulging biceps. And his stupid sculpted torso. And his stupid thick thighs that Bucky just wanted to bite-

Whoa.

Wait.

When did Bucky start feeling that way about his best friend? Sure he had always thought Steve was attractive but feeling anything sexual towards him was new. Bucky had always thought himself as straight. But judging from the bulge in his pajama pants, that may not be the case.

Bucky shook his head to clear it of the inappropriate thoughts he was having for the blonde super soldier. He just hasn’t been laid in awhile. Yeah, that must be it. He’d have to fix that soon.

He decided to finally get out of bed and get dressed for the gym. Maybe a good, hard workout will help clear his head.

The first thing Bucky did when getting to the gym was look for Steve. After all, he did invite him to workout. Yeah, that’s why he was looking for him. Not to gaze at his handsome face. Nope.

It didn’t take him long to spot him at all. And when he did, he could feel his blood start to boil.

There he was on the pull-up bars doing one armed pull-ups. That’s not what had Bucky so upset. No, it was the fact that there were at least 4 female agents crowded around the bars. They were all trying to chat with Steve who Bucky could tell was just eating the attention up.

After a few more sets, Steve hopped down in front of the waiting ladies. They were so obviously swooning over him. He just smiled and ran his hand through his hair while one of the girls had the audacity to squeeze his bicep.

That was it. Bucky couldn’t stand to look anymore. He grabbed a water from the fridge and hurried to the other side of the gym where the weights were. He needed to lose himself in a workout, get out of his head.

He had just laid down on the bench press when Steve appeared before him.

“Hey, Buck! Thanks for joining me today! I know you like to sleep in but it’s just nice to have someone to workout with.” Steve headed over to the bench press right beside Bucky. He started adding weights to the barbell.

Bucky couldn’t help the roll of his eyes as he glanced back over to the group of girls who were slowly making their way towards them. “Yeah, looks like you would’ve been real lonely without me.”

Steve follows Bucky’s gaze and chuckles. “Yeah, they can’t resist me. What can I say? They like the muscles. Can’t say I blame them” He flexes to make them even more prominent. Bucky was doing his best not to look. He didn’t need to get a boner right now.

He scoffed. “Okay. Whatever you say, punk.”

Steve gets all of his weights added and sits down on the bench. He slaps Bucky’s shoulder. “You know they want to go out sometime. I bet I can talk one of them into going out with you. We could double. It’s been awhile since we’ve gotten laid. I don’t think we’d have to convince them much.”

Bucky grabs the barbell and lifts it up to begin his reps. “No thanks. I’m not into shallow women. And besides. They all seem to want you.”

Steve chuckles. “I know! Isn’t that great?”

Bucky finishes his first rep and puts the barbell back in place and sits up to face Steve. “Yeah I guess it is. But there’s no reason to be a brat about it.”

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Did you just call me a brat?”

Bucky takes a swig of water and lays back down. “Well yeah. I couldn’t think of a better word.” He lifts the bar once again and begins his next rep. Just as he’s finishing it up, he hears giggling next to him.

He puts the bar back into place and looks over to see Steve doing his own reps, surrounded by the same 4 women who were watching him do pull-ups.

“Wow Steve. You’re so strong! I bet you could do reps with me.” One of them said in a sickenly sweet voice.

Steve sat up and smirked. “Oh that’d be too easy, doll.” He leans forward and grabs the girl and lifts her up so she’s perched on his shoulder. “You weigh practically nothing. It wouldn’t even be a challenge for me.”

She giggles as he puts her back down. Bucky can’t help but wonder what it would be like to be manhandled like that by Steve. Shit. He needs to stop with those thoughts. He could feel his cock stir. Okay. Unsexy thoughts.

Um. Tony’s boring team meetings. Sam talking about how cool his wings are. Nat attempting baking. Steve’s ass in his uniform. Fuck! No! Bruce talking about chemistry and physics. Wanda attempt- Bucky’s train of thought gets interrupted by loud squeals.

He looks over just in time to see Steve removing his shirt. “It really does give me more range of motion to workout shirtless. Thanks for the suggestion ladies! Now who am I lifting next?”

One of the girls points at Bucky. “Why don’t you bench press him? I bet his metal arm will make it a little difficult.”

Steve looks over at Bucky who is already shaking his head no. “Oh, come on Buck! Just let me prove these lovely ladies right.” He gives Bucky a hopeful look. Fuck. He can’t resist those eyes.

“Okay, fine. But only a few!”

Steve winks at him. “Okay I’ll lay down on the bench and you lean backwards towards me. I’ll place one hand between your shoulder blades and the other on your left upper thigh. Cool?”

Bucky had to stop the shiver that was trying to wrack his body at the thought of Steve’s hand anywhere near his thighs. “Whatever man. Can we just hurry it up? I need to get back to my reps.” He was trying his best to act annoyed to push down his arousal.

Steve claps his hands together and turns toward the girls. “Okay ladies, you’re gonna have to count for me!” He winks at one and sends them into a fit of giggles. Bucky can’t stop the eye roll this time.

Steve lays down on the bench and holds his hands up, waiting for Bucky.

Bucky starts taking deep breaths as he leans back. Goosebumps erupt down his arms when he feels Steve’s hand on his back. Before he even has time to enjoy his touch, he feels his hand grip the back of his left thigh and lift him into the air.

Bucky can feel his cock twitch. Fuck. He needs to think of something else. He starts going through the list of people killed on Game of Thrones when Steve starts his reps.

Jesus Christ. Bucky makes the mistake and looks towards the mirrors behind them and he gets mesmerized by Steve’s biceps. They were really bulging now. Every vein was popped out and on display. All Bucky wanted to do was follow them with his tongue. Fuck. He was starting to get hard.

Luckily this is when Steve decides he’s shown off enough and sets Bucky back down.

“Alright ladies! So how many di-“ Bucky doesn’t even hear the rest of what Steve says. He just takes off towards the locker room. He couldn’t stop all the blood rushing south this time even if he wanted to. As he opens the door, he vaguely hears Steve calling after him.

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

Finally Bucky is alone in the shower and can take care of his problem.

He turns on the water to a warm temperature and steps under. He hangs his head down and looks at his betraying, hard cock. He didn’t want to have these feelings towards Steve. He knew they’d never, ever be reciprocated. He had to figure out a way to suppress his feelings.

He places his metal hand on the wall and grips the base of his cock with his right. He hisses at the contact. He’s never been this hard in his life. He starts off with slow strokes, tightening his grip just like he likes it.

He doesn’t hear the approachI get footsteps as he starts to speed up his strokes.

“Need some help there, punk?”

Bucky freezes and whips his head towards the voice he’d know anywhere.

Steve is standing there in all his naked glory, cockily smirking at Bucky. His blue eyes are trained on Bucky’s hand that’s still stroking his cock.

Bucky can’t help his own gaze as it lowers down Steve’s body. God damn is he beautiful. He gulps as his eyes take in the cock between Steve’s legs. Not only is it big, but it’s rock hard and seems to be pointing directly at him. He carefully moves his gaze back up and locks eyes with Steve. “Those girls got you really worked up, huh?”

Steve smirks again and saunters slowly towards Bucky. He stops in front of him. “Nope.”

Bucky furrows his brows. “Then what has you all worked up, Steve?”

Steve lifts his hand and tucks a piece of hair behind Bucky’s ear. “You, handsome. Nobody can get me as hard as you can.”

Now Bucky is really confused. Steve has never given any hints about being sexually interested in Bucky ever. He knew Steve had even slept around with a few of the female agents. The confusion must be showing on Bucky’s face.

“I’ve been trying to avoid it, Buck. But I just can’t hide it anymore. I’m attracted to you. Always have been. Even when I was just a little, asthmatic shrimp. Now..” His gaze lowers to his fisted erection once again. “Is that for me? If not, I’ll leave and we can pretend this conversation never happened. If it is, then I’d love nothing more than to help you with it.”

Bucky only has to think for 3 seconds. He nods his head. “Yes, it’s for you.”

Steve grips the back of Bucky’s neck and pulls him in for a heated kiss. Bucky pushed his body against Steve’s and both men let out a groan when their cocks brush against each other.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted you for so long. Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to jerk you off until you’re coming all over me. Then we’re going back to my room to….explore this further. Got it?”

Jesus. Bucky liked bossy Steve. He just nodded his head.

Steve removed Bucky’s hand that was still fisted around his cock. He replaced it with his own. He gives Bucky a few experimental strokes before Bucky groans out,”harder.”

Steve grips his hand harder around the aching cock and speeds up his strokes. Bucky goes to grab for Steve’s cock but his hand gets slapped away. “No. Right now is about you, handsome. Just close your eyes and enjoy it.”

Bucky decides to listen to him. He braces his hands on Steve’s shoulders and leans his head back with his eyes closed.

Steve takes this opportunity to attach his lips to Bucky’s neck. He needs to mark him as his. Bucky must be enjoying it if the little groans escaping his mouth are anything to go by.

Steve tightens his grip and speeds up his strokes even more. He looks down at Bucky’s cock. It was thick. It was leaking so much pre-cum. Steve knew Bucky had to be close. He all of a sudden needed him in his mouth.

He removes his hand from Bucky and lowers himself to his knees. Bucky raises his head in confusion and almost comes at the sight of Steve on his knees before him.

“What are you doing, Stevie?”

Steve grips Bucky’s cock and looks up at him. “Needed to taste you big guy. Need to feel your cum sliding down my throat.”

Fuck. If Bucky wasn’t close to cumming before, he sure as hell was now!

“Fuck, Steve. I’m not gonna last long.”

Steve just shrugs and sucks Bucky’s tip into his mouth. Bucky grips Steve’s shoulders again and throws his head back in ecstasy. Nobody has ever made him feel this good, ever.

Steve does his best to take all of Bucky into his mouth. He gags a little as the tip hits the back of his throat. “So fucking pretty choking on my fat cock.” He feels Bucky’s right hand thread through his hair and tug. He lets a groan of his own slip out.

His left hand travels down and he starts stroking his own cock.

He feels Bucky’s cock starting to swell. He knows he’s close. Steve swallows Bucky’s cock all the way down again, this time hollowing his cheeks and sucking on the way down. He then takes his free hand and gives a tug to Bucky’s balls.

That’s all Bucky needed. He throws his head back and shouts Steve’s name into the room. Steve quickly raises his gaze to Bucky as he feels his cum shooting down the back of his throat. He does his best to swallow it. The sight of Bucky in a state of pure euphoria sends Steve into his own orgasm. He cums all over the floor of the shower.

He removes his mouth from Bucky and continues licking him clean. Bucky finally gets his breathing under control and lifts Steve to pull him into a kiss. Bucky groans at the taste of his own orgasm on Steve’s lips.

Steve pulls back and cups Bucky’s cheek. “Are you ready to wake up now, punk?”

Bucky furrows his brows. “What?”

Steve smiles at him. “I said are you ready to wake up now?”

Bucky jolts awake at the feel of someone smacking his shoulder.

He sits up quickly and his gaze falls on Steve’s smiling form. “You alright, Buck? I was worried when you didn’t meet me in the gym this morning. You never sleep in this late.”

Bucky runs his mental hand through his hair. It had been a dream. Fuck.

Steve looks down at the floor as his face turns red. “I realize now that I must’ve interrupted a good dream. You were, uh, moaning in your sleep.”

Oh, fuck. Bucky hoped he didn’t moan Steve’s name. He makes eye contact with him. “Yeah. I, uh, was having a dream about that new girl down at the coffee shop.”

Steve raises his head and smiles. “Oh, man. She’s gorgeous! You should ask her out! If she got you that worked up in a dream...imagine what she could do in real life.”

Bucky looks down at his lap and smiles sadly. Steve was never going to want him in the same way. He might as well forget it. He couldn’t get that lucky.

“That’s a great idea, punk. Sorry for missing the workout. But will you wait for me in the living room while I get ready? I’ll need my wingman if I’m going to ask out a pretty girl.” He gives Steve what he hopes is a convincing smile.

Steve returns the smile. “Of course! Maybe she has a cute friend for me.” He winks at Bucky and heads into the living room.

Bucky sits there for a second and allows one tear to escape. He hated having hidden feelings about his best friend.

Permanent Taglist: @stargazingfangirl18 @drabblewithfrannybarnes @harrysthiccthighss

[mythicamagic]

Spots to kiss + [11] please! ❤️

Prompt: a kiss on the corner of the mouth.

"I got you something."

His eyes immediately brightened in an endearing and almost boyish way. Kagome bit the inside of her cheek at witnessing such a rare expression of anticipation race over his ancient features before it was snuffed out. Sesshoumaru tilted his chin up haughtily.

"Oh?" he hummed, unruffled.

Kagome giggled, shifting her naked body on the furs within the cave and leaning over his muscled thigh to rifle through her bulging yellow back-pack. She could feel the heat of his gaze glide over her arched back- and a hand inevitably met the base of her spine, stroking over the curve of her ass and descending between parted thighs, seeking-

"Hey! No!" Kagome squeaked, covering herself and growling. "No gift-giving if you keep messing around."

"This one would like to point out that there is a 'gift' readily available to me between your legs," he purred, unabashed.

A lazy, dishevelled, perverted Sesshoumaru was an increasingly less rare sight these days, Kagome dryly mused. She secretly adored his bedhead. Silver strands looked like rumpled ribbons instead of sleek strands running down broad shoulders. Pride and possessiveness coiled in Kagome's chest at the sight of hickeys and love bites littering his body, mirroring her own.

"Yeah well you already indulged in that today," she huffed, squeezing slick thighs together and feeling her skin heat. "Behave yourself."

It was indicative of how stepped in afterglow Sesshoumaru truly was that he didn't growl or glare at the command. He merely grunted with a playful smirk, midsummer night eyes darkening.

Kagome turned back to her pack, fishing out a small grey box and brandishing with a flourish. "Aha!"

Arching a brow, Sesshoumaru rested a casual hand on her thigh as she straightened and turned back to him.

"Remember when you- when you um...first propositioned me?" she murmured softly.

"Indeed. It was after I'd attended the Southern Lord's gathering at his plateau," he hummed, gaze turning thoughtful. He'd been finely dressed, much like Mother. He still wasn't sure what had possed him to fly over Edo after the party. "Why ask?"

"Well it's just...I wanted to thank you for that night," Kagome mumbled, thrusting the box into his hands. "Just take it!"

Sesshoumaru regarded her quietly, directing his gaze to the humble box sitting within his large palm. Opening the lid revealed a pair of delicately crafted earrings.

To anyone else, it would be an incredibly random gift. They'd perhaps see it as an insult directed at a warlord, especially one as androgynous as he. Yet Sesshoumaru didn't possess one self-conscious bone in his body, Kagome knew that. He'd looked otherworldly that night, draped in more lavish layers than usual with the smoke of pipe curling around him.

The image of the Daiyoukai offering shelter from the rain on a mere whim lay seared into her mind- every detail, including the earrings he'd worn.

Thin lips curved, and clawed fingers twitched, giving into impulse and lifting one out. It was designed to curve over his pointed tip, shining faintly silver and sprawling down the length of the shell of his ear with an intricate design, a crescent moon held between the metalwork.

Looking up, he found Kagome biting on her bottom lip subconsciously, her face reluctantly giving way to a smile. "To make up for the one you lost," she murmured. "Yours are finer, I'm sure, but I hope these are okay."

Jewellery wasn't exactly something women tended to gift men often, but then again they were hardly conventional themselves.

"How did you come to possess these? Human ears aren't shaped this way," he hummed.

"Ah, d-don't sweat the small details," Kagome nervously laughed and waved it off, not wanting to provoke his ire by going into detail about people who cosplayed as elves. And took it very seriously, judging by how pricey they'd been. "S-so...do you like them?"

"Hn," he gazed at them without emotion.

She leaned against the warmth of his side, now knowing that was just how Sesshoumaru looked when deep in thought. She didn't exactly need thanks. Long legs shifted and mokomoko curled around her waist, the furs brushing the underside of her breast and eliciting a shiver. Kagome inwardly mewled when the Daiyoukai lifted her onto his lap.

"It has been a month since that night."

Her heart skidded, tripped up, and then thundered into overdrive, hands drawing back to her chest to try and stifle the pounding noise he could no doubt hear from within. He remembered...

"Yes," she said softly.

It wasn't like they could meet all the time, but they'd had their trysts at least 4 times a week and that wasn't counting how long they spent locked together or how many times he'd take her. Kagome couldn't stop blushing. Maybe he was more smooth, romantic and thoughtful than she'd given him credit for in the past.

Sesshoumaru nonchalantly reached to his mouth and plucked a canine loose.

Letting out a scream, Kagome hurriedly pressed her hands to his lips to try and stop the bleeding. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! Don't go randomly taking out your teeth!"

He huffed and pushed her hand aside. "I did not bring a gift, but this is priceless-" he seized her arm and forced her to take it. "You are aware of what a fang from a Daiyoukai can do. Currently you do not have a weapon suited for close-range combat. Take this and it will be of use."

"But I'm not a demon," Kagome squeaked, thoroughly grossed out by the blood on her palm. The tooth is still warm.

Sesshoumaru tossed his head, eyeing her flatly. "The will of the fang is the will of the original bearer. It will work as I want it to."

"T-thanks," she said, pushing aside her squeamishness and looking at the facts. It would definitely turn into a strong weapon if she asked Totosai nicely to forge it for her. In his own way, Sesshoumaru was just giving her what he assumed all beings wanted; power.

Gentling, Kagome sat up on her knees, using his shoulder as leverage- and pressed a kiss to the corner of his bloodied mouth. It tasted like iron. Her tongue flicked out instinctively to lick it away, before stiffening and realising what she'd done.

I really have become weird since hanging out with demons so much.

Sesshoumaru didn't seem to mind. On the contrary, his eyes were darker than ever. With a shove, she fell back onto the furs, his body leaning over hers and hand straying south, seeking the 'gift' between her legs once more.

[chris-evans-indian-fanfic]

Merchant of Death

One-Shot

Description: Mob!Thanos is a collector of the most precious things in the world. But what happens when his eyes upon you?

Warning - Mentions of violence and beheading

Words- 5400~

This one-shot is my entry for @sweater-daddiesdumbdork 's writing challenge. I used the following image prompt. Check out this link to participate in the challenge!

My Main Masterlist

I don’t consent to have any of my work published or featured on any third party app, website or translated. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but Tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission. In that case, please do share the link and let me know.

…

Nobody knew his real name. Nobody cared. Named after the Greek God of death himself, Thanos was modern day's omen of slaughter. Being the leader of one of the oldest mob families in New York, Thanos commanded a certain level of respect amongst his peers. It wasn't just that his heritage was daunting. His towering height, broad shoulders, vast expanse of muscled torso and legs were enough to intimidate even the toughest of the fighters. Always dressed in an impeccably crisp suit, his bald head, sharp eyes and a strong, set jaw easily gave the impression that he was the owner of a multi-billionaire corporation.

It wouldn't be wrong to call his drugs and weapons empire a well-oiled corporation. His 10 fingers were dipped in blood in multiple countries throughout the seven continents, yes even in Antarctica. 

Thanos was a well-known figure. Everybody knew who he was, knew what he did, but nobody, not even the law authorities, could ever connect him with any illegal activity, be it harbouring and selling of illegal guns and drugs, or smuggling goods to his centres across the globe.

For all his wrongdoings, Thanos did donate 10% of his revenue to the poor, the homeless, the downtrodden. Almost like a twisted version of Robinhood, where he ripped off the rich with highly priced drugs and paid a part of the amount to the poor.

For this reason, there were two sides of him which were portrayed in the media, those who earned his favour called him Messiah of the Poor, while the others who had witnessed his ire addressed him as the Merchant of Death. But in both the iterations, it had been made ample clear that nobody could make Thanos bleed.

That's why it came as a shock when the Chief of Police, Steve Rogers, had managed to shoot Thanos in an encounter. Looking at their leader fall to the ground, Thanos' men commenced their feral attack on the protectors of the law, driving them back. 

The bullet had pierced his left forearm, but hopefully hadn't made it far into his body, thanks to the bulletproof vest sewn into the jacket. 

His men rushed him to the nearest hospital as he put pressure on the wound. 

...

Being the night of 31st December, the ER was more crowded than usual, with drunk idiots involved in car accidents, accidental weapon discharges, or some even sustaining injuries by bursting fire crackers at a close range. 

You silently cursed yourself. Yeah saving lives was noble and all, but spending the entire New Year's Eve in the hospital, surrounded by blood and equally bloody cries of their families and friends really got on your nerves at times.

You steeled yourself as you entered the operation theatre (OT) for another surgery. This moron's druggie friend had shot him in the chest because he thought he was someone else. This would be a complicated surgery, as the bullet was deep inside the muscle, almost touching the heart. One miscalculation could result in more complications.

Halfway through the surgery, you heard a commotion outside the OT. Furrowing your head, you tried to concentrate, but the noise grew louder. You focused your mind on removing the bullet. As if choreographed, your instrument touched the bullet just as a gun was fired right outside your door. 

Your colleagues jumped, but you set your concentration on removing the piece of metal from this man's body. 

The doors to the OT were kicked open as a tall, thin man entered weilding a gun, asking for you. Your staff promptly pointed at your bent figure. 

You were still focused on extracting the bullet when the gun cocked next to your ear, "C'mon out Doctor, we need you to treat our boss," Maw commanded you.

Ignoring him, you carefully pulled the metal upwards, looking at the live scan feed on the screen for direction. 

"I don't think you heard me Doctor. Leave this man and come with me. Our boss needs you. I will not repeat myself," warned Maw, his venomous voice laced with concern for his boss.

You did not move.

When he pressed the gun to your forehead, your staff gasped in terror, but you refused to budge.

As soon as the damned bullet was out, you dropped it onto a tray along with your gloves, instructed your staff to stitch up the wound, and wordlessly looked at the greasy-haired Maw. 

He beckoned you to follow him into Thanos' room where he was being prepped for surgery. You saw Dr Yellowstone tending to him as you approached. "I am sorry Doctor, I told them that you were in a surgery but..." you brushed him off, asking to see the preliminary reports. Dr Yellowstone explained that the bullet wound wasn't deep, and that a simple surgery headed by him would have sufficed, but they were insistent to get you to do the surgery. 

"Of course," Maw's sickeningly smooth voice was back in your ear, "We wanted someone who's the best for our boss. And you are the best surgeon in the entire state, aren't you Doctor?" he asked with a sneer.

You continued to ignore him, coordinating with your staff. As Thanos was put in a wheelchair, Maw pulled out his gun again, cocking it near your forehead, "Our boss better be able to move that hand again miss, or tonight will be the last time you use both your hands."

That threat pushed you over the edge. All evening and night of dealing with insensitive jerks like this guy over here had finally made you snap. 

You turned towards him, looked at the barrel of his gun and slapped him right across his cheek. 

Whether it was the force of your slap, or the fact that your assault had been completely unexpected, nobody could tell, but Maw staggered backwards, his free hand resting on his long reddening cheek where you had struck him. 

Thanos jerked in attention at your action. His pain seemed forgotten as he looked at you. Your plump figure stood tall as you glared at Maw. 

"Put that gun away or there's more where that came from," you warned him spitefully. 

"Nurse, take him to the OT. Dr Yellowstone, coordinate with the blood bank, we might need extra blood. I will see to it that the anesthesia is ready to administer," you left the room after instructing your team. As if you were going to wait around to witness the reaction of Thanos's right-hand man.

In the OT, you saw Thanos' large figure laid on the bed. You approached him with the anesthesia, but he held your hand with his uninjured arm. "Don't," he spoke in his thick voice. "It will hurt. The pain might lead to further complications," you explained. "No. I want to feel your touch," he said simply.

You rolled your eyes and cringed on the inside.

As the surgery began, Thanos kept his dark eyes on you. Neither once did he wince with pain, or avert his gaze. Ignoring him, you set about to remove the bullet from his arm, a quick procedure. 

"Dr Yellowstone," you said from behind your mask, "stitch the wound and dress it."

"Where are you going?" Thanos asked you plainly, as if you both were sitting in a coffee shop. You ignored him and removed your gloves as Dr Yellowstone approached the patient. 

Thanos moved his arm, "No. You will not. She will," he nodded towards you. 

Audibly groaning, your assistant helped you in wearing a new pair of gloves.

Finally, with the wound stitched and dressed, you left the OT to tell Maw the good news.

…

3 hours after the surgery, Thanos looked at your file while resting on his bed. Compiled by Maw, this file had every detail of your life, no matter how minute. You had captured his attention unlike anything else, anyone else. He flipped through the pages, learning more about your family, friends, hobby, and profession. 

His member twitched when he saw your images from social media. Beneath the doctor's coat, you were plump, curvy and thick, just the way he liked his women. He paused, drinking in your appearance in a swimsuit. Placing a finger on your face, he slowly traced your outline, his finger respecting every bump, every bend till he reached your covered mound. He pressed it, as if hoping to see you react, but you kept on smiling in the image. 

Eyes heavy with sleep, he looked around his room. His quiet quarters screamed with opulence. Decorated with the world's most expensive marble, motifs covered in 24k gold, diamond chandelier and Persian rugs, his room paid homage to some of the priceless wonders of the planet. But looking at them now, Thanos realised that none held a candle next to you. 

As he settled in to sleep, he smirked. You would make a nice addition to his room.

…

A week later, Thanos surprised his men by driving himself to your hospital. He had taken an appointment, afterall, his wound needed to be checked.

He knocked on your cabin door, entering only when you said to. He smiled warmly at your startled expression, standing patiently next to the chairs across your desk. 

"Dione," he interrupted you, "Please call me Dione."

You gathered yourself quickly, "Mr Thanos I-"

He smiled cheekily, he knew he had struck at the right place, at the right time. Extending his arm, he reached out for your palm, holding it gently in his. "Please come in. You must be tired," he said, leading you into your own house. 

You squinted your eyes. You remembered reading the strange name on your list of appointments today. "What can I help you with Mr Dione?"

Thanos smiled. He liked the way his name rolled off your lips. "May I take a seat?" You nodded.

Thanos barely fit in the chair, his vast thighs almost bulging out from the sides of the chair. "I think my wound needs to be redressed."

"I thought Maw said he had the best doctors at your beck and call," you spat at him.

"I owe you an apology," he said slowly, "Maw's behaviour that night was appalling, to say the least. I have never hurt or intended to hurt healthcare workers. I regret his actions. Please accept my sincere apologies."

Thanos or Dione, surprised you for the second time that day. His acknowledgement of his staff's misbehaviour left you dumbfounded.

He cleared his throat, "As I was saying, I think my wound needs to be redressed." He turned to his side as much as he could, and displayed the bloodied bandage on his arm. 

You asked him to sit on the patient's examining bed in your office and unwrapped his bandage.

"Does it bleed everyday?" you asked.

"No, it started bleeding today. As soon as it did I thought I should visit you."

Thanos looked at you closely. He studied every contour of your face. His right hand fought the urge to cup your cheek and pull you closer to him.

You traced the wound on his left arm and straightened your back, fully aware of his intense gaze on you. 

"Mr Thanos…,"

"Mr Dione, please," he interrupted you.

"Mr Thanos," you asserted, "This wound has been reopened by a knife. And judging by the angle of the cut, I think it was you who did it," you stared at his eyes.

He whispered your name, "I just wanted to see you again."

"It's Dr (Y/N) for you," you spoke sharply, "I will fix this wound now. But if you inflict harm upon yourself again, then I will not be able to help you."

Thanos saw you grab your kit and come near him, "I think we got off on the wrong foot."

"I don't think there was any foot involved, Mr Thanos. The only things that were involved were a gun and my palm on Maw's cheek."

He chuckled softly at the memory. He loved the fire burning in your eyes. He wanted to see what would you look like burning up on his bed, riding waves of pleasure with him.

"Let me make it very clear, because people like you need to get everything spelled out for them," the venom dripping from your words brought his attention back to you, "I do not want to be involved with you Mr Thanos. I have no intention of being a mobster's trophy girlfriend. If you are really thankful for what I did, then you will leave me alone and never set a foot in this hospital again. Have I made myself clear?" you stared at his hungry eyes as you finished bandaging him.

Nobody on the entire planet, not even the President himself, dared to speak with Thanos in that tone. And here you were, staring him down as if he was worthless. It only made him hungrier, knowing that claiming you would be the sweetest reward he can give himself.

…

The rest of the week was thankfully uneventful for you. On Saturday night, you slowly climbed the stairs to your floor, feeling relieved. At least you had the whole of tomorrow to relax. 

Reaching your apartment, you found the door unlocked. You stepped backwards, deciding to call the police from your building's security office. 

Just then, your door swung open and a smiling Thanos cheerfully greeted you, "Welcome home doctor! Dinner is almost ready. Why don't you take a relaxing hot bath? I have already filled your tub with warm water."

After the exhausting week you had, you had never expected to find Thanos in your home, cooking dinner and preparing a bath. All you could do was stare at him with your mouth open, his black pants draping his thighs perfectly, the blue shirt hugging his muscled arms and torso as if second skin and to top it all, he was wearing your apron, the one with the cute pandas on it. The apron didn't even cover the distance between what you guessed were his nipples.  

"I am not Thanos. I am Dione," he voice sounded sincere, "You asked Thanos to leave you alone, not Dione."

You barely felt his touch as he held your palm, again astonished at how gentle this huge beast of a man can be. 

He locked the door behind you, took your purse and coat and knelt to untie your shoelaces. You jumped back at that gesture, finally coming to your senses. "What… what are you doing?" you managed to ask.

He looked up at you, "Wouldn't you be more comfortable if your shoes were removed?" 

"No."

"No?" Thanos asked.

"Yes, I mean no. No, I meant what…"

Thanos shook his head, amused as he reached down to untie your shoes, ignoring your protests. He got up slowly, his body a mere inch away from yours. He held your eyes with his as he reached behind your head, unclipping your hair. He stood mesmerized as your hair fell down your shoulders, his hand massaging the spot where they were bunched up on your scalp. 

You purred at his ministrations, your eyes suddenly widening as you heard the sound escape your lips. He let you move back as you held his gaze. Why did he have to be so goddamn attractive?! 

You closed your eyes. No he's a mobster. You cannot be involved with him. No. No. No. Control yourself.

After that evening, you saw Thanos, (or Dione, you didn't really care) everyday in your home. You saw him first thing in the morning as he cooked you a hearty breakfast, and the last person for the day when he made dinner and tucked you in your bed.

You opened your eyes. You can do this. "Thanos and Dione are the same person. I don't want to be involved with you. Leave. Right now," you half-heartedly snarled, reaching for the door. But he put a hand on the lock first, stopping you. 

"They aren't the same person. Thanos would never cook for anyone, even for himself. He wouldn't tolerate your disrespectful tone and arrogance. But I am. I want to-"

"Excuse me? Arrogance?" you cocked an eyebrow, "Do you realise the amount of shit I have had to go through after I operated on you? The FBI, CBI, Police and God knows what came pounding down my doors, accusing me of harbouring and aiding a criminal."

"I am well aware," he admitted tersely, "I have made sure that you will not be bothered again."

Your eyes widened as his words sunk in, "Did you kill them?" you whispered, your hands immediately flying to your mouth.

"I didn't," he stated.

A frown formed on your face as you tried to unpack his confession. "Did Thanos get them killed?" you asked with purpose.

Just then, the oven's timer chimed. "Ahh, dinner is ready. I made your favourite lasagna. There's also garlic bread and a cucumber mint salad. Do you still want to take a bath before dinner?" he asked casually as if he hadn't murdered a squad of officers. 

Sensing your hesitation, he came over to you, and stepped in your space, "Give me a chance," he urged, "I am not the monster they paint me to be. Allow me to show you who Dione is. Let me cherish you. I promise, as long as I am with you, I will not indulge in any criminal activity. Please. Give us a chance," he finished earnestly, taking both your palms in his hands.

You slowly raised your eyes to meet his, breathing in his luscious, musky scent. His hand caressed your cheek, weaving through your hair as he pulled you closer, delicately. His soft exhale on your lips weakened your knees. But he stopped. The handsome bastard was waiting for you to come closer. 

"I will walk a 1000 steps to reach you," he whispered quietly, "if you just take one towards me."

His other hand started a torturous journey up your arm, his touch feather light. His thumb slowly traced the outline of your bottom lip, coming to rest behind your head. 

For a second, you were lost in his ministrations. For a second, you wanted to give in to the stillness of the night. 

But a loud crash, and a woman's blood-curdling scream interrupted your peace. You jumped, looking in the direction of the noise. Thanos followed your gaze and smiled. He hummed with satisfaction, "Where were we?"

You shook out of his gentle grip and headed towards the direction of the commotion. As you peered down your window, you let out a scream. Down on the road, the body of a SWAT agent was sprawled on top of an indented car. It seemed as if he had fallen off the top of your neighbouring building. 

Coming up behind you, Thanos vowed, "I would never engage in illegal activities when I am with you. But Thanos will destroy the world if that's what it takes to protect you."

…

Breakfast in Milan, luncheons in Athens and late night hot chocolate in Paris was enough to sway even the most heartless of the human beings. But you were still on your toes, waiting for this dream to turn into an ugly nightmare. 

That wasn't all. He started buying you groceries, and even basic amenities like toothpaste and hairbrush. Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head when you saw that he had even replenished your tampons.

For all his drawbacks, you couldn't ignore the fact that he never touched you without your consent. He treated you with respect, and cared for you as if you were made with glass. Some nights, when you came home unbelievably late, he was ready to massage your aching feet, while patiently listening to you rant about your day.

The time you spent with him almost felt domesticated. But you knew it was borrowed. Time went by and you started accompanying him on his trips as he refused to let you stay behind. You saw very little of Maw on these trips. Instead his other henchwoman, Proxima, was assigned to you. 

"What is holding you back?" he asked you one day, as he brought dinner to your room in Venice, overlooking the city. "I have expressed my love for you in as many ways as I could," his eyes roamed over your body, "I think I have managed to strike the perfect balance between Thanos and Dione. I have done good on my promise to make sure you never see the ugly side of my business. Then why do you still refuse to come to me?"

You looked at him with a frown, "What makes you think I do not see the ugly side of your business? Do you know the amount of drug overdose cases we get in a day?"

Thanos looked out the window, "All those people are aware of the ill-effects of drugs. If they still choose to take it, then how does that make me the villain? Somebody else will sell the drugs if I don't."

"Really? That's your justification? So you owe nothing to the people whose lives are destroyed by your drugs and guns? What about the poor? The young who are addicted to your substance?" you argued in an accusing tone.

"I donate 10% of my earnings to them. But I can't help everyone," he justified.

Thanos chewed in silence as he considered your words, "Will you give yourself to me if I donate half of my wealth?" he looked at you after a few moments.

"10% is not even a dip in your ocean of riches Dione. You want to talk about striking a balance? Then donate 50% of your wealth to those who actually need the money. Auction off your antiques, your collectibles. Build schools, donate to NGOs, be good and help the people, the portion of the society who needs you the most," you tried to convince him.

You softly pushed your plate away, "No amount of charity can justify the killings Dione."

As Thanos gripped his fork tighter at your words, you swore you saw the metal bend. "I have to do what needs to be done to protect you. Even if it means spilling the blood of a few agents of the law. Do you think they will protect you from me? You are nothing but a source of information for them. As soon as they are done with you they will toss you aside like useless garbage. Your identity, your entire life will be erased from the record. You don't want me to protect you like that? Okay. Then what would you have me do?" he demanded an answer.

You met his gaze, your silence filling the conversation with words.

"I cannot just quit. I have spent my whole life building this empire and I am not about to give it up," he claimed through gritted teeth.

"But what did it cost you?" It was your turn to surprise him with your question. 

"Everything," he admitted, "and more. But this was all I have ever had. There was no reason for me to leave this-"

"You do have a reason now," you interrupted him. 

You dragged your chair towards Thanos and sat beside him. Placing a hand on his heart, you kept your eyes on him. "You have a reason now," you repeated in a whisper. 

You saw a myriad of emotions cross his eyes. Taking advantage of his astonishment, you kissed his shoulder and rested your forehead on it. You felt his heart beating faster. 

Thanos was glad your head was on his shoulder, as he didn't want you to see the tears in his eyes. This was the first time you had initiated any form of affection towards him. He held your hand, the one on his heart, and kissed it with a promise.

…

Officer Natasha Romanoff hurried towards Steve Rogers' office. She entered without knocking. 

"Hey there! Knock before you-" Tony Stark, the Weapons Contacter tried to speak before Natasha cut him short.

"Steve, you need to hear this," Natasha looked at him. 

In the last few months, thanks to Steve's bravery in the shoot-out with Thanos's men, he had been promoted to the highest ranking covert field agent at the FBI. 

Steve nodded, requesting Tony to reschedule the meeting. As soon as they had the privacy, Natasha filled him in on the news. "Thanos is donating 50% of his wealth to charities and NGOs across the country. He's moving with his girl to Mauritius."

"He's building a new base there?" Steve cocked an eyebrow.

"No, he's retiring. If he gets on that plane then we will lose him forever."

"Hmmm," he considered her words, "I have a plan."

…

Thanos had advised you against going back to your apartment, arguing that all of your stuff was already packed and on the way to the flight. But you were relentless. You had to go back to retrieve a piece of your legacy which you were sure his men must have missed. 

He watched in amazement as you removed the photo frame from your wall and tore the wallpaper, revealing a cavity inside. 

You retrieved a box, wiping the dust off of it. Walking towards Thanos, you opened the box to reveal 6 rings. "These belonged to my grandfather. He always believed that there are six traits that make a man. He gave me these rings on his deathbed, and asked me to pass it on to the man who I deemed worthy." Pointing to the ring with the purple stone, you recited your grandfather's words, "Be with a man who commands Power," yellow stone- "But make sure he has a kind Soul," orange stone- "He should be able to read your Mind," green stone- "However, he must know the value of Time," red stone- "He should be able to accept his Reality," and lastly, the blue stone- "But, he should give you the world, the galaxy, the entire Space, if need be."

Holding out the box for him, you presented him with the rings. You smiled indulgently as you wiped his tears. He took your hand in his, kissing your fingers, your palm, your wrist. You laughed as he hugged your hand, "This is the second most precious gift I have ever been given."

You tilted your head, puzzled, "What is the most precious gift?"

"You."

…

Steve saw you and Thanos exit the building, hand in hand like two lovestruck teenagers. "Team Alpha, if you have a clear shot take it. But do not fatally wound him. We need him alive. I repeat, we need him alive. Team Omega, standby for the extraction. Team Beta, grab the First Aid Kit as soon as the Patient is hit" he commanded into the walkie-talkie using their codewords for you and Thanos.

"You still haven't told me where are we going," you pouted slightly as you walked towards the car. "Patience love, all in good time," Thanos smiled down at you. "This is White Wolf Team Alpha, firing in 3...2...," Bucky spoke in his earpiece.

"Wherever we are going, I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you," you spoke. "...1." You suddenly turned to face Thanos, and started walking backwards, your hand still in his. 

The bullet pierced the space above your heart, before colliding with Thanos's bulletproof vest. Gunshots reduced to dull thuds around you as you collapsed in Thanos's arms, your blood staining his shirt. 

You didn't notice when he carried you to the car. You didn't notice the speeding car coming to a halt. All you could hear was his panicked voice, and feel his pounding heart.

"Maw why are we stopping?" Thanos screamed at his henchman.

"Sire, there is a traffic jam ahead. We can't take any other route. There are rows of cars behind us. We are trapped," he said regretfully.

"I don't care! Kill them all, clear the road with explosives. She needs to get to a hospital NOW!" Thanos's voice boomed as panic gripped his heart.

"Sire we can't use explosives, the road might cave in. Proxima is arranging for a mobile hospital as we speak. They should be here soon," Maw spoke with hope.

Cradling you in his arms, Thanos pushed your hair back from your face, "Stay with me. Please stay with me. Don't leave me now. Please… no…"

"Hey," you managed to say in a cracked voice as tears escaped his eyes, "Dione," he looked at you, "I will... always be with you... my love," you struggled to caress his cheek as he held your arm. 

"Please please please no," he pleaded.

You gasped as a new jolt of pain ran through your body, "I… I love you… Di… Dione," you smiled.

A heart-wrenching scream escaped Thanos as he held your lifeless body. His anguish lost in the traffic of vehicles blaring their horns.

…

"Sire," Maw's voice broke Thanos from his reverie. He turned to look at the box in Maw's hand. In the dim light of his room, he opened the lid to see the severed head of James Buchanan Barnes. 

"Steve Rogers has gone underground sire, but we will soon find him," Maw promised. 

"He is not the real problem Maw," Thanos turned back to the window, "Do you remember what the doctor had said? If we would have gotten her to the hospital in time, she would have been alive today."

He paused, looking down the crowded city before him, "She died because we couldn't get her to the hospital earlier. What had caused the traffic jam?"

"Two cars had gotten into an accident, which caused a pile up on the road," Maw explained.

"That pile up wouldn't have occurred 10 years ago. In the last 2 decades, there has been a population boom which has ended up putting a strain on resources. Governments across the world are refusing to tackle this problem and in fact, are boastful of the increase in their population." As if on cue, he saw large groups of people fill up the sidewalk as hundreds of cars poured onto the road, everybody eager to reach home after their workday.

"What do you mean sire?"

"The scales of the world have been tipped unevenly, Maw. Balance needs to be restored to the order of the planet. The rich can't have an endless supply of luxury while the poor scramble for basic sustenance. She was right, we need to help the poor, but we can't wipe out those in power completely."

Thanos looked at the setting sun with determination, "It is time to kill half of humanity."

Maw inhaled sharply, "Sire! How would we manage-"

"The drugs," said Thanos simply, "50% of our cargo will contain lethal drugs till we achieve our target. Distribute it randomly throughout our supply chain for the next 6 months."

Maw paused for a moment. The severity of this crime left him dumbstruck. "Sire," he spoke at last, "She wouldn't have wanted this."

Thanos looked at the 6 rings on his fingers. "She wanted to live Maw. But she couldn't. She always tried to help people as much as she could. This is the only way we can fulfill her wish, by helping people across the globe."

"By killing people across the globe," Maw meekly argued.

"You kill everyday for a living Maw. Why has this idea turned your silver tongue into a knot?"

He could only gulp in response.

"The world needs correction Maw. Now more than ever. The lethal drugs should be shipped from tomorrow onwards. I would find it unpleasant to feed your body to our dogs, if you fail your duty," Thanos' thinly veiled threat hung in the air like a sword. 

Maw bowed down, "As my sire wishes," and left the room in quite a hurry.

Thanos walked towards your painting on the wall opposite to his bed, the only ornamentation in his otherwise desolate room. 

"You will see my love," he cooed, "we will see the sun rise on a grateful world together."

__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__

Permanent tag: @donutloverxo

Taglist open!

[meetmeinthematinee]

Anything But Red: Serve and Service Part 2  John Wick x Fem!Reader

A/N: A ridiculously long time ago I got a request from @cynic-spirit​ for a pt 2 to Serve and Service. I hope that you enjoy this long, long, long awaited story even though I did change things a teeny bit from your request. 

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, a guy too forward on hitting on someone, mild swears? Do I need to warn for fluff? It’s just fluff mostly. 

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

“Shit.” You muttered as you leaned forward and pressed your fingers into your forehead.

“You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what again, John?”

“Your super worried but suffer in silence thing.” John said as he gently pulled you back against the chair and worked his fingers into the tense muscles of your shoulders. You relaxed into his touch and let out a sigh.

“I thought that was YOUR thing.”

“Suppose so. It’s your thing too.” John said pointedly.

His hands stilled their soothing motions and you finally relented. 

“The barback just quit. Without notice.”

“Steve?” 

“Mmhmm. I don’t even know what we’re going to do. It's Saturday for fucks sake. I mean--I…”

“You mean you wish you had a really strong guy that takes direction well and can work tonight?” John said as he resumed working each and every knot out of your shoulders. 

“Exactly. Wait. What?”

“I’m saying I’m happy to help out in the restaurant tonight.” He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. 

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

John wiped the bar down. The cloth slid along the polished wood surface in his large hand. It was hard to not get caught up in watching him move. The way his rolled up shirt sleeves allowed you to see his forearms flexing as he lifted the trays of clean glasses. The way his shirt drew tight across his muscled back as he slid the wine glasses into the rack above the bar. The bulge of his biceps as he heaved the beer kegs into place. Your attention was always split twenty different ways when you were in the restaurant but your eyes were always drawn back to him tonight.

In the turnover between the 2nd and 3rd seatings of the night you had time to check in with him out in the alley where he’d asked you out all those years ago. “I think you might be the best barback we’ve ever had.” 

“It’s because I want to impress the boss.”

“Oh--she’s impressed. And grateful. Very grateful.” You said as you worked your hands into his back pockets. 

He shrugged and smiled sheepishly. John never knew what to do with your compliments but that never stopped you from giving them freely. 

He leaned down and kissed you. Capturing your lower lip softly between his teeth and humming lowly before letting you go again.

“Alright. We better get back in there.”

“Yes, chef!” He answered as he held the door open for you.

You made your way through the buzzing dining room, stopping at a few tables to say hello to some familiar faces before you checked in with your front of house staff. This time of the evening was your favourite. The worst of the rush was behind you and on a good night the kitchen had settled into a comfortable rhythm. After the host ran over the state of the bookings with you you migrated over to the bar. 

“How’s working the bar with John?” You asked Janice. You always could trust her judgement -- she’d been less than thrilled with the work ethic of your last barback and had said as much -- but before you even had a chance to let him go he’d quit on you.

“I’m not just saying this because you’re married to him -- I’d be overjoyed if you could find someone who works like he does.” She said with a wide smile. 

“That’s a tall order.” You replied. “But I found you--so I think it’s doable. I’m hoping he’s ok with filling in until I find someone.”

You both looked down to the other end of the bar where John was busily prepping lemons and limes for garnish. 

“Looks like he might be ok with that.” Janice said before she got back to work making the next round of orders for a table. 

You were making your way back to the kitchen when someone got your attention. 

“‘Scuse me -- you’re the chef here right?” A blond middle aged man said, grabbing you by the wrist as you made your way past him at the bar. You steeled yourself for what you knew was coming and smiled politely at him while gently attempting to pull out of his grasp. “Yes, this is my restaurant.” 

“You should let go of her buddy.” John said without looking up from where he was slicing citrus across from the man.

“Oh, yeah sorry.” He said as he dropped his hand from your wrist. 

“He’s a bit rude, hmm? Anyway.” You semi-tuned out the man in front of you and your eyes kept drifting over to John. 

“I wouldn’t say he’s rude. He’s new. A great hire I think.”

“A woman like you doesn’t need to have someone speak on your behalf.”

You smiled cooly. “I don’t think that was his intent.”

“Anyways, I was going to say a gorgeous woman like you should have a night off once in a while. I’d like to help you unwind sometime.”

You inwardly cringed. Thinking and there it is to yourself. This happened every once in a while and you always hated it.

“Usually I save my time off for my husband.”

“I don’t see a ring.” The man answered, his ruddy face showing exactly how many glasses of wine he’d had. 

You glanced again at John and his mouth was drawn into a tight line, one palm planted firmly on the burnished wood of the bar. 

“I’m a chef. I don’t wear it when I’m working. Is there anything else I can get you?”

“Aside from you?” 

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, aside from me.”

“Maybe another glass of red.”

“One red.” You called to Janice and she grimaced when she saw who you were pointing at. 

“Enjoy the rest of your night. I have to go.” You said as you walked away.

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

“Hey, mouthy.”

“Excuse me?” John said.

“Is she really married? I feel like that’s a line. She seemed really into me.”

“You think so?” 

“Definitely.” The man said before he took a big swig of his wine. 

“Then you should go for it. I mean, I’m new here--I don’t know much about her personal life. Give it a shot.” John said as he ignored the laugh coming from behind him. 

“Why’s she laughing?” The blond asked about Janice who was pressing the back of her hand to her mouth. Trying and failing to suppress her laughter.

“Beats me. Women, you know?” John said with a shrug.

“Fair enough.” 

“Do you want me to ask her to come back? Any man would be lucky to be with her. Happy to help a guy out.”

“You’d do that?”

“Yeah, no problem.”

John headed back toward the kitchen. A wicked grin on his face as soon as his back was turned to the semi-drunk louse.

He came back with a folded napkin and set it down on the bar in front of the man. 

“What’s it say?”

“I don’t read things not meant for me.”

“Huh. You know, you’re not a bad guy. Sorry I called you rude earlier.”

“Don’t mention it.” John said as he went back to putting away glasses. 

“Looks like I was right! See ya later!” 

“Later.” 

Janice never brought up what happened to the man for the rest of the night. They were hit by a sudden rush of customers and everyone was too busy to wonder about where that awful man had gone to. 

You came out for one last round of checking in on customers and stopped at the bar when you saw the creepy man from before was gone. “Uh, thank god that guy’s gone. He was way too handsy and way too creepy.” You said to Janice--who suddenly broke into laughter.

Your host came through on their way to leave for the night. 

“Are you talking about that weird blond man?” They asked.

“Yeah -- he was hitting on Chef here right in front of John.”

“Oh. OH! That makes so much sense now. That dude came back and tried to get in again and he was ranting and raving about being tricked and falling into the alleyway. He just seemed really drunk so I refused him entry.”

All eyes turned to John who was quietly wiping down the bar. 

“John?” You asked cautiously.

“Hmm?”

“Did you toss that man into the alley?”

“No. But I did write a note that suggested you’d be waiting for him through the door by the washroom....”

Janice slapped John on the arm. “YOU DIDN’T! I wouldn’t have pegged you as the jealous type.” 

“Listen, I’m not going to let some creep stay here and bother everyone, let alone my wife. I heard the way he was bothering you all night and then he escalated things to getting handsy. I didn’t want there to be a big scene. I just…...helped him out the door a little.”

“Well, next time maybe just let me know when you’re going to help someone out the back door again so I don’t bear the brunt of that messiness, John.” The host said with an exasperated but amused sigh. 

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

Soon it was just you and John. He was straightening up the bar, making sure everything was clean and ready to go for tomorrow. You fished around in your pocket, frantically as always, before your fingers closed on the familiar smooth, cool metal. You carefully slid the ring back onto your finger. 

“Do you want a drink before we head upstairs?” John asked with a gentle grin. His eyes scanned down and caught the way the light glinted off your wedding band. He never tired of seeing that on you. The sign that you were a matched set. 

You shook your head. “Nah, I’d rather head upstairs and unwind with something on the couch with you.”

“What do you want to drink?” He asked as he guided you to the exit with his hand on your lower back.

“I think….anything but red.”

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Thanks for reading!

Next up I have a Bill & Ted fic on the burner and I have another long, long, long ago request I’m chipping away at. My requests are closed so even though it’s incredibly flattering to be asked to write something I’m not able to take on any right now. 

I’m also forgoing the whole taglist thing now -- not because I don’t love you my ever generous and kind readers--but because they don’t even work half the time. 

Hope that you’re all holding up as ok as you can be during this incredibly bonkers time. 

xoxo

[tarithenurse]

Valentine’s Fool

Pairing: Sam Wilson x fem!reader Content: All the Fake Dating tropes as well as smut (don’t be a fool, wrap the tool), and some fluff. And cussing. A/N: I never celebrate Valentines, but that shouldn’t stop a good one-shot. Enjoy! 

I should have known it would backfire! Stomping back and forth in the cramped space of the elevator, you barely notice the door opening let alone whoever you march past (accidentally shouldering them) when you hurry to get out before it is too late. Crapcrapcrap.

The hallway is comparable with a long tunnel without discerning details – a fact you logically know not to be true. The boom of the door to your quarters closing is reduced to a soft thud…unfortunately echoed moments later when Sam bursts in.

…   Flashback   …

”ExCUSE ME?!” The words were hurled at you echoing through the kitchen.

Rounding on him, your fists were balled tightly. ”Excuse you? Excuse YOU?” At least he backed up a tiny bit. ”You want me to pretend to be your DATE?! No. Scratch that…your part of a DOUBLE date?”

Having been friends for half a decade, it should not have come as a surprise that Sam had talked himself right into trouble of the most embarrassing kind. Steve, Bucky and you had saved his ass more than once though he rarely got any of you involved before giving some kind of warning. So yeah, of course there was more to it. It was obvious the moment he shuffled the feet, suddenly more interested in the floor than the argument.

“Well…” he mumbled, “I might’ve told my coisin we’re…steady.”

“And then y’wonder why’m NOT won over by the promise of CAKE?”

“It’s the b–“

“I DON’T CARE what sorta cake it is!”

He still managed to slip out “triple-brownie caramel”, and while you might not have cared, your stomach was certainly paying attention all of a sudden. Should’ve had a snack after training. He sensed the shift within you –used to dealing with two super soldier’s food urges – gently nudging the flaring cravings by describing every single detail until drool started to fill your mouth faster than you wanted to swallow.

In the end, he managed to convince you after promising to owing all of two favours – no questions asked.

…

You arrived early on Valetine’s day, bringing a backpack full of random personal belongings and a few real and photoshopped pictures: all of it a part of the elaborate cover story that you, idiotically, had accepted to adhere to. In some twisted way, that was the easiest part because of the many missions in the name of the Avengers. This is too personal, but you would be damned if you gave up now and let down Sam…and miss out on the cake.

…

Everything was pretty much perfect with the setup making the two of you look like a couple sharing places randomly but often, and of course Sam’s cousin (Kaylah) was brilliant and her girlfriend funny. What could have been a tedious evening evolved into something closer to second nature with the only difference being the physical proximity of Sam though small touches and handholding.

There was nothing strange about it, actually. You got physical with Sam (and other Avengers) on a daily basis due to sparring, and movie nights often included semi-wrestling for the good spot on the couch (plus if the movie was boring, people would fall asleep more or less on each other).

“Jeez,” Kaylah admonished Sam, quickly stealing the glass with the last bit of white wine from him and passing it to you, “you gotta learn to share, man.”

Agreeing with her, you winked at the wineless guy. “That’s what I try to tell him…but really he ain’t all bad.”

“Bloody hope not! I taught him ev’rythin’ about datin’ and stuff.”

Kaylah’s girlfriend turned around with terror on her face, making you sober up until: “Oh, I’m so so sorry, sweetie [Y/N]! How did y’ever get this far??”

“Haar haar!” The couple bickered lovingly back and forth, while you enjoyed a chance to usher Sam to the kitchen for more to drink for all of you.

Yes, no hitches in the plan.

Not until Sam (tailed by his cousin) had to squeeze past you in the kitchen, his fingers curling around your hipbone…and it ignited something within, making you sigh a little to audibly. Next thing you knew, the two other women were peeking around the corner (“discreetly”, according to their wine-laced minds) to spy on Sam kissing you.

It was not that you had to kiss to keep a cover. It was not even the fact that it was Sam Freaking Wilson, one of your best friends.

No.

The thing that caught you by surprise was how right it felt as the pretend kiss developed, drawing him closer to you or vice versa. Your little moan, which he swallowed so neatly, did not even register until he pulled away with that soft look in his eyes.

 …   Now   …

“What’s goin’ on? All rest of th’evenin’ t’was like Antarctica sittin’ next to ya! Gotta talk to me, sugar.” The nickname is far from strategic unless his hope is to shut you up instead.

You recover from fish-mode, finding the use of your voice once more. “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought it’d be better to cool things down b’fore your cous’ dared you to go further!”

I’m behaving like a teenager! But the little logical voice in your mind is drowned out by the turmoil that is making your knees weak and pushing your heart to beat like you have run a mile. Sam is your friend. He has been for ages and has never ever made a move to indicate that he would be interested in more than a platonic relationship, so it is uncalled for that your body or hormones suddenly want more. Need to get my head straight.

Where you cannot think, the man before you seems plenty capable of it. “Yeah. She dared me…didn’t hear ya complain, though.”

“Wh-…that’s a low blow even for you, Wilson.”

“Maybe, but tell me I’m wrong, then,” he insists, confidently stepping closer, “tell me ya didn’t feel anythin’…t’was just me?”

He has got you against the window, but you are still searching for an answer when his words register with you, playing on a loop until it is certain you heard right.

It is like seeing him in a new light, finally unveiled with every subtle detail on display: the slight gap between the front teeth which is nothing short of perfection because it adds a boyish charm to his smiles; the searching flicker in those warm, dark eyes boring into your soul.

“C’mon, babe…I didn’t just ask ya to help me ‘cause ya like cake…”

“…was a good cake…”

“I can get ya somethin’ better if you’ll let me.”

Hot hands have found yours, skin caressing skin and sending little sparks of comfort with the rush of blood to nestle in your chest, and though your heart still is galloping it is not because of anger anymore. Sam is a hair’s width away. You can smell the coffee on his breath that he had with the triple-brownie caramel cake – both dessert and lips delicious as sin according to your experience. It is impossible to glance at the lopsided smirk and not want to enjoy the gentle greed of his mouth in action one more time.

You do not know when you began nibbling on your lower lip, you just know that he pulls it free from your teeth with the soft brush of a thumb before holding you close enough to feel his heartbeat mix with your own. Wild and passionate. In contrast, the kiss is hesitant as if he is afraid of rejection even now. Or to give me a chance to back out? There is no going back. The bridge is crossed and ablaze, and you are ready to dance in the scorching heat.

“Don’t hold back, please,” you mumble against his lips, moulding against him with a firm grip of his neck and a satisfying squeeze to his butt. What an ass!

As the dam finally bursts, any and all indecision are swept away to make room for pure lust. Sam’s hands are everywhere though favouring your hips in an effort to create friction between your pelvises where an increasingly prominent bulge calls for attention without getting any. Not yet. You are both too busy exploring the reactions conjured by increasingly slobby kisses anywhere with access to skin – so caught up that you barely register when Sam moves you until your calves hit the bed and you tumble onto it. He is out of breath (just like you) with swollen lips and heavy lidded eyes that only let go of you the few seconds it takes to pull the shirt over his head.

Hot damn.

Oh, you have seen him shirtless before and even admitted to yourself then how good looking he is. Gorgeous and off limits – just like all your teammates. Knowing that this time Sam is all yours to touch and adore? It is overwhelming and sends sweet waves of heated impatience to your core. Sitting up, he is only out of reach until grabby hands and a pout has done the job to bring him to stand between your knees.

Rapid fingers manage to make short work of the belt and zipper before he stops you. The roguish charm will be the end of you some day, but you feel more alive than ever as he takes over and removes your shirt before his jeans. A quick lift and shove sends you properly sprawled out on the bed and you obediently lift your hips so he can pull down the skirt and pantyhose in one go.

“Daymn, your sexy too!”

“Is that your way of fishing for a compliment, Wilson?”

Surprise flickers before laughter takes over. “Feel free to shower me with ya sweet words…but I did mean you.” Sam has taken to kiss and caress his way up your legs, giving you a generous view to the flex of his back muscles. “Smart,” he punctuates with a soft bite to the inner thigh, “funny,” once more he pauses, “strong,” this time he has reached the fabric of your underwear and kisses your pussy through it, “everythin’…and fuckin’ gorgeous too.”

The heat, which has been centered around your core, spreads to your face at the sound of the adoring words. Any reciprocating compliment is halted as Sam surges up to reclaim your lips, and amidst dazzling tongue action and teasing bites he tells you, no…begs you, to just accept the praises because “this is all about you, sugar”.

Your friend/lover/partner/boyfriend takes his time to explore all of your body and remove the last bit of clothing, turning you lazily around to trace the length of your spine or seat you in his lap while his cock nestles between the folds until you moan in delirious anticipation. By the time he finally aligns with your craving pussy, Sam hands have massaged their right into every cell of you – traced it onto your clit with his tongue.

“Yeah?” It is a whisper against your throat.

“Yes,” you confirm, already anchored to him with bruising grips. Oh, yes please!

With all of his attention tuned in to your reactions, the gentle lover eases his cock in as he takes time for both of you to adjust before the game of learning continues. Each of you chase the keening sounds of the other as bodies find a common rhythm and soon, surprisingly so, the coil in your core snaps to release waves of pleasure.

A guttural groan escapes Sam, “Oh, fu-uck!” You can barely feel through your own high how he stutters, face buried in the crook of your shoulder. “Damn, princess…”

When he resurfaces to meet your gaze moments later, you can see a hint of chagrin in his eyes.

“You’re amazing!” You do not give him time to protest. “It’s hard to ‘magine round two’s going to be even better now the pent up need’s blown.”

Sam’s crooked smirk is back in a second. “I’m sure we can beat all records, sugar.”

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me - Chapter 49

Warning: none

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @alievans007​, @ocfairygodmother​

She sits on the edge of the front porch as she watches him work. The sun harsh and punishing as it  beats down on broad shoulders and back, wide chest and powerful arms; rivers of sweat glistening under the brilliant light. The perspiration that dampens his hair makes it look several shades darker; sides and back freshly shaved, the top growing in quickly and beginning to fall across his forehead.  Sunglasses on and barefoot, clad in only a pair of cargo shorts that sit dangerously low on his hips. Every muscle in his upper body bulging and twisting with each swing of the axe; movement easy and effortless as he chops and splinters logs from a  haphazardly stacked pile Koen had left near the fire pit. It’s a thing of beauty to observe. How that body moves and the power that inhabits it. The veins that protrude in those thick, strong forearms, the multitude of scars and tattoos that use his skin as a canvas.

Even after nearly seven years together and five children,  it’s hard NOT to lust after someone that looks like THAT.  He’s the embodiment of masculinity; brawn and immense strength, bravado and confidence without the air of cockiness. Rough skin and large callused hands and an intensity and edge that are always lingering just under the surface.  But there’s other things that make him the man he is. The compassion and the gentleness that he possesses; extraordinary patience and an ability to keep calm, cool, and collected even when the rage is beginning to build. It’s the way he’s so secure in that masculinity; never shying away from things like  braiding his little girl’s hair and daring anyone to tell him it’s not the most manly EVER. It's the ferocity behind his desire to protect what -and who he considers ‘his’; a steadfast loyalty and faithfulness that never breaks. When he loves, he loves big. He’s ‘all in; dedicating his entire heart and soul and giving nothing but fierce and unwavering devotion.

She’s the lucky one. The beneficiary of it all. Never remembering a time that someone had given that much of themselves to her; never questioning their feelings or second guessing her own. No one else had ever made her feel the things he does. Not just a mix of overwhelming and all consuming love and unbridled carnal want and need, but the feeling of being safe and secure. That knowledge that someone will do anything...stop at nothing...to protect her. Mark had only ever been interested in hurting others; dedicating himself to inflicting as much emotional and physical pain and turmoil as he could. Tyler commits himself to fixing those things; quietly -and without needing acknowledgement or praise- attempting to right another man’s wrongs.

He’s grinning as he approaches. Wiping dirty palms against the thighs of his shorts, swiping a forearm across his sweaty brow. “What are you smiling about?”

“Just admiring the scenery,” Esme says, and takes a sip from the bottle of beer in her hand. “And it’s very nice scenery.”

That grin widens, and he places a hand on either side of her, palms flat against the wood of the porch; bending down and  pressing a kiss to her forehead. “And you call me biased.”

“All the women thirsting after you are proof I’m NOT biased. Cashiers at the grocery store, moms on the playground, at the school. Millie’s teacher. I hear she’s very determined when it comes to you. That she tried picking you up at the bar the other night.”

“Who told you that?”

“Ovi. Don’t underestimate his loyalty to me. He told me she was trying to jump on your dick. And that she didn’t seem to be taking no for an answer.”

“I might have been a little harsh.”

“You? Harsh? Never.”

He smirks.

“He also told me that you were a good boy. That you behaved yourself.”

“You were worried I wouldn’t?”

“I wasn’t worried about what you’d do. Some of those women are very persuasive.”

“They can try all they want. My dick’s taken. That’s what I told her. It belongs to someone else. Yours is the only pussy it wants to be in.”

Esme’s eyes widen. “You said that? Those exact words?”

“That was loosely translated. But I did say my dick was taken and that no one other pussy can hold a candle to yours.”

“Oh God…” she lays a hand against her forehead. “...Tyler…”

“In my defence, I was pretty drunk.”

“I have no doubt in my mind that you would have still said it if you’d been sober. That’s such a Tyler thing to say.”

He shrugs. “I have absolutely zero filter left.”

“I know. Believe me, I know. You’re usually a man of few words, but when you DO talk…”

“I say what I mean, and I meant what I say.”

“Exactly. This should make trips to school very interesting, to say the least.”

“Is it wrong I’m looking forward to parent/teacher interview night? Seeing her squirm?  Wanna make out in front of her?”

“She’d probably enjoy that.”

“You like girls too. Is she your type?”

“I am going to pretend you didn’t say that. Because even if she was, I don’t cheat and I don’t share my toys. Especially my favorite one. My ALL TIME favorite. So if you’re into that kind of thing, you need a different wife.”

“Only thing...person...I’m into, is you.” He leans in and kisses her; soft and languid.

She isn’t bothered when  sweat  drips onto her from his forehead and hair, nor does she mind  the salty taste of it on his lips. And the tip of his tongue briefly brushes against her before he pulls away, chuckling when she digs her nails into the back of his neck; pressing her lips to the underside of his chin and nuzzling her nose against his throat.

“I probably stink,” he warns.

“You smell good. You smell like Tyler. And that’s the best smell in the world.”

He smiles at that, then runs a hand over her hair before pecking her cheek. “Longer we’re married, the sappier you get,” he teases, and then takes a seat beside her, grimacing at the discomfort in his back.

“I thought you said earlier I was getting cuddlier?”  She reaches behind her for a second bottle of beer, twisting off the cap before offering it to him.

“You’re getting both,” he says, accepting the beer and pressing a kiss of appreciation to her temple. It’s his first drink since they’d arrived. After getting his first taste of it after six months of sobriety, he’d thought he’d want more. That he’d NEED it. But the longing and feelings of desperation and the ghosts of dependency have settled down. It would have been easy to fall back into his old ways; faced with the multitude of booze Koen keeps scattered around the kitchen. But it hasn’t ‘called’ to him; the burdens and baggage of addiction surprisingly silent.

“Do you not know what sunscreen is?” Esme inquires, and he hisses when she presses her ice cold bottle against the back of his neck. “You’re going to be hurting tomorrow.”

“Can’t get much worse than I’m already hurting.”

She frowns. “That bad?”

He nods and takes a large swallow of beer.

“Knee? Shoulder? Back?”

“Back mostly. The other two feel pretty good for a change.”

“You need to be more careful. Once your back goes, you’re fucked. Maybe that’s what did it,” she presses the fingertips of one hand into the most troublesome spot; left side, middle of the spine, but close to the shoulder blade. Where the sniper’s bullet in Dhaka had torn into him.   “The fucking. Maybe you can’t partake in such strenuous activity anymore.”

He scowls. "You be quiet.”

“I’m just saying. You’re getting older and it would make sense if you start to slow down and your stamina starts to falter.”

“Just put a bullet in my brain. Do it. End it. Because the day I can’t do THAT…”

“What are you going to do if you ever need Viagra?” she teases, and digs her knuckles into his back.

“You know what…?”

She grins and presses a kiss to his shoulder. “What?”

“You’re not making me feel any better. I WILL shoot myself if that ever happens. The day I can’t get it up is the day I lose all will to live.”

“Don’t be such a baby. It's not the end of the world if that happens.”

“Fuck yeah it is. “

“And you question where Millie gets her dramatics from?”

“I am serious. That ever happens, I give you permission to put a gun to my head and pull the trigger. Put me out of my misery.”

“Not going to happen. You’re stuck with me. Even if you do get limp dick. I’m not letting you leave me with God knows how many grandchildren. We’re supposed to spoil them together, remember? You’re not allowed to die. I won’t let you.”

“I’m too fucking stubborn to die anyway.”

“I’m starting to think that’s true.”

She traces a fingertip over the scar left behind from the sniper’s bullet; the size of a dime and no longer raised or puckered. It’s the accompanying scar that’s worse; long and thin and jagged in some areas. Where the surgeon had to open him up and go in to locate the source of internal bleeding and repair a section of his  left lung. It would be easy to hate all those marks; all those parts of his body that have been damaged and torn apart. But they’re part of who he is. Testaments to just how strong and tenacious he is. Proof of his survival and how far he’s come.

“That one’s getting a lot better,” she remarks, as her fingers find the scar left behind from when Farhad had shot him, along with the one beside it; another surgical incision that had been needed to keep him alive. “It’s taken a long time.”

“Doesn’t bother you as much anymore.” It’s an observation. Not a question.

“Not really. I try not to think about the back story. And speaking of back…” her fingers glide over the multitude of deep, red gouges that travel both horizontally and vertically, some even overlapping. “...I wonder what happened here?”

Tyler smirks. “Gee. I wonder.”

“Sorry. I got a little carried away.”

“Just a little,” he grins, as he leans in to kiss her.  Laying  a hand on her thigh,  he gently spreads her legs and nods down at his own handiwork. “Sorry I bit you so hard.”

Esme grins. “You’re not sorry at all.”

“Actually, I’m not.”

She gives a derisive snort, then kisses his shoulder and leans into him; beer in one hand, the other resting on his lower back. “For the record, you need to unleash your inner lumberjack more. That was sexy to watch.”

“And you say I never do anything nice for you,” he chides.

“You’ve got the whole vibe going on. You’ve got the body, you’ve got the beard. Just need to get you a plaid shirt.”

“Fuck that. Look, I don’t mind fulfilling your little fantasies, but I have to draw the line somewhere. No plaid.”

“Fine,”  she huffs dramatically. “At the very least a tight white t-shirt.”

“Anyone ever tell  you you’re weird?”

“Only you. Every day. For almost seven years. You  put up with it though. I notice you stick around despite it.”

“I’d miss it too much. Your weirdness. You in general.”

She grins. “And you call me sappy?”

They lapse into a companionable silence. Nursing their beers as they enjoy the peace and quiet; no sound save for the faint rustling of the trees and bushes as the breeze passes through them. It’s unusual; not being surrounded by noise and activity. Their lives normally filled with chaos, even on the best days. And while they miss the normality of it -the kids voices, their bickering,  the baby crying- it’s a relief to get away from it for a little while. A chance to be alone together instead of having to battle for even a sliver of attention. Days often going by before they even have a normal conversation. So caught up in being parents that they’d forgotten what it was like to need each other. And Tyler drapes an arm across her shoulders and pulls her tightly against him; lips finding her temple, her hand moving to his side.

“Allison called,” Esme says, and places her now empty beer bottle beside her. “She said she couldn’t get through to your cell.”

“Battery’s dead. I haven’t bothered to charge it.”

“Disconnecting from the world. Your dream come true,” she teases.

“What did she want?”

“I had no clue what she was talking about. She said to tell you that she’ll send someone to do a thorough search and get back to you with any news.”

He nods.

“Tyler…”

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to stress more.”

“Oh fuck me. What now?”

“It’s probably nothing. Which is another reason why I didn’t say anything. Why freak you out and then it turns out to be nothing?”

“Whatever it is, are the kids going to be okay? Should we have stayed home?”

“We made the right decision coming here,” he assures her. “We NEEDED to come here. And if it were something to worry about..if my instincts told me something was wrong...I would have been the first to cancel everything and insist we stay home.”

“So what is it? What do you have Allison looking into?”

“Millie saw something. SOMEONE. Or she thinks she did.”

“She told you that? That she saw someone? Where? Doing what?”

“She said she saw some lady going into the woods. That she yelled at this person to stop and she didn’t listen to her and kept going. I guess she told Ovi and he went and checked and didn’t find anything. Thinks it was probably just someone trying to get to the beach without going right on our property.”

“What do YOU think?”

Tyler shrugs. “I don’t know what to think. It’s easy to think the worst. Especially right now. But Ovi’s probably right. Probably nothing.”

“But you believe her? Millie? You believe she saw someone?”

“She wouldn’t lie about something like that. She even gave me a good description; pretty detailed. She’s crazy smart. Too smart for her own good. And insanely observant. It’s almost scary HOW observant she is. How keen her senses are.”

“Does that sound familiar? I told you; she’s just like you. She even has your instincts. She saw the Jeep driver; same time you did. And she’s not even six yet and she’s like that?”

“I’d be impressed...and proud...if it didn’t freak me out so much.”

“She’s YOUR daughter.  She has so much of you in her. I see more and more every day; you coming out in her. And that’s not a bad thing, Tyler. Think of all the amazing things she’ll be able to do when she’s older with skills like that.”

“That’s what scares me. What if she’s the one that follows in my footsteps?”

“I highly doubt Millie will grow up and want to be a mercenary. That girl loves her glitter way too much.”

He gives a small laugh.

“Can you imagine her with a pink Glock with a bejewelled grip? That would be Millie as a merc. Or she’d have a pink holster with Hello Kitty embroidered on it. THAT'S your daughter. She is not the one you have to worry about. My money is on Tanner. He’s flying under the radar; no one suspects him. I think he’s conning us all.”

“I never did get my fifteen bucks that he scammed me out of. Or should I say my seven fifty. Because I know full well you took the other half. You’re the one who put him up to it; don’t even try denying it. That had you written all over it. I’ve seen how you work. I saw you scam people in Dhaka. I heard you scam them in Ireland. You’re good.”

“It’s always the ones you least expect,” Esme reasons. “Us little ones are always the last ones anyone is ever suspicious about. But I’m not admitting to anything when it comes to Tanner.”

“He’s a momma’s boy. You could talk him into anything.”

“I plead the fifth.”

“That doesn’t work here. This is Australia. Not the States.”

“I’m not copping to anything. No matter how much you badger me about it.”

He grins. “I have ways you know. Ways of getting it out of you.”

“What are you going to do? Waterboard me? Go all Guantanamo Bay on my ass?”

“A lie detector test. A very accurate one.”

“Oh really…” her eyes playfully sparkle. “...what lie detector test?”

“It’s my own. I made it up. I developed it.”

“Sure you did…”

“All I have to do…” he leans into her, pressing a series of kisses along the left side of her neck  and across her shoulder. “...is this…” he slides a hand up the leg of her shorts, then splays his finger; one coming in contact with the crotch of her panties, the other with the back.   “...one finger here...one finger there…and…” he bites down on the sensitive spot between her neck and her shoulder.

She’s laughing  as she pushes him away. “You dick! That hurt!”

“I WAS going to do this…” he removes his hand from her shorts and grabs at her inner thing.

“Ow!” She yells, then dissolves into giggles and collapses onto her back as his fingers dig and pinch and aggressively tickle. “Tyler! You shit head! Stop! You’re going to make me pee my pants! Don’t be such an asshole!”

“You gonna admit to it?” His hand hand slides down to her knee, then back up again; passing over the crotch of her pants before settling on her stomach. “That you had something to do with it?”

“Never,” she declares. “You can’t get it out of me. You’ll never make me crack.”

“Oh, I can. And I will. You’re not the only one with special skills.”  He pulls up the bottom of her tank top, mouth warm and moist against as he licks a path just above the waistband of her shorts.

“Fuck you and your special skills,” she playfully retorts, and then squeals when he sinks his teeth into the flesh at the bottom of her right ribs. “What is wrong with you?! I’m going to have marks everywhere!”

“You mean like my back?”

“I have to mark what’s mine. My territory. And your ribs are pretty torn up, too. Sorry.”

“It’s a small price to pay,” he says, and then leans to kiss her. “Hungry?”

“Mmm...hmmm…” she arches her back and presses her hips against him.

“I meant for food. And you have the nerve to call me ‘extra’ when it comes to sex lately.”

“I can’t help it. I can’t help that my husband is insanely sexy and turns me on when he so as much looks at me.  I should have married someone uglier.”

“Maybe you should have worked with Gaspar,” he teases. “Doesn’t get much uglier than that.”

“I would have throat punched him for sure. Or killed him. He was too fucking creepy and way too fucking psychotic. That story you told me? About shooting the doves? That was fucked. Doves. Of all birds. Like the hell? I can’t believe you were ever friends with that guy. You’re nothing alike. What did you ever bond over?”

“Killing people.”

“Well THAT’S healthy.”

“Drinking. I was drunk most of the time I was around him. So I wasn’t the best judge of character. Are you hungry or not?”

She nods. “I could eat.”

“We’ll cook something out here. On the fire. Sound good?”

She nods. “I’ll whip up some sides. I have to make sure you keep the tank full. I don’t want to wear you out.”

“You can try, but you never will.”

“You’ve got five years on me,” she reminds him. “I’m still a youngin' compared to you. Pretty soon people are going to start thinking you’re my father.”

“Fuck you. I don’t look THAT old.”

“Older brother, then.”

He frowns. “That’s some Jerry Springer shit.”

“An American reference! After six and a half years of being married to me, you finally used an American reference. ‘I’m so proud of you, Tyler James.”

“You know…” his fingers pull down the bottom of her tank. “You’re lucky I love you.”

She smiles and lifts her head to kiss him. “Yes, I am.”

“I’m going to go and take a shower. Wanna come with?”

“What? You need me to scrub your back?”

A sly grin spreads across his face. “Among other things.”

****

With the sun down, the temperature has dropped considerably; breeze stronger, the cooler air trapped by the mountains surrounding them. After a dinner prepared over open flame, they lounge by the fire; nothing more than a blanket spread on the ground, his legs outstretched as she sits between them with her back pressed against his chest. One of her hands in possession of a glass of wine -the now half empty bottle sitting beside her- and the other resting on the forearm he has laying across her collarbone.  He’s only on his second beer of the day; still three quarters full and in no rush to finish it. It’s a good sign. He won’t be tempted to get heavily back into it in Mumbai; able to be fully engrossed and focused on the job at hand. There’s too much to lose; his entire existence, his whole world. There will be no second chances if he fucks up; he can’t afford to make any mistakes when it's his own family involved.

He’d promised himself he wouldn’t think about it. Mumbai. Mahajan and all his threats. He’d told himself he’d push them all onto the back burner; he’d think of nothing but their time away together. That he’d concentrate on nothing...no one...other than her and the reconnecting that they’re so badly in need of. But when nighttime settles, the dark thoughts always return. It’s when he’s most anxious. When things are quiet and still and he suddenly has time to think; both mind and hands idle. And now he can’t stop dwelling on it. On how he leaves for India in nine days time and whether or not he’s making the right decision when it comes to the people he’s taking along. Questioning whether it’s better to have a solid and structured game plan ahead of time, or if he should just let things fall into place once he gets there; go in with nothing but that list of names and decide there and then how to dispose of them.  Does he have all his ‘ducks in row’ at home; up to date life insurance policy, recent version of a will, an intricately carved out -and written out- plan on what Esme’s to do if he DOESN’T make it back? So engrossed with all the thoughts of doom and gloom, that he hadn’t even realized she was speaking to him until he feels her hand on the side of his face; that simple contact snapping him out of it, eyes not focusing on that concerned face looking at him.

“Are you alright?” she asks, and even in the glow of the campfire he can see the glassiness of her eyes and the flush to her cheeks; side effects of all the wine she’s consumed. It’s been months since she’d indulged in even a drop; cutting it out entirely once she found out she was pregnant with Addie.  And the return to it is hitting her hard and fast.

“Yeah,” Tyler gives a reassuring smile. “I’m fine.”

“Did you even hear what I said?”

He shakes his head.

“What were you thinking about? You looked really intense there for a minute. Like you were going to rip someone’s head off.”

“I must have zoned out. Wasn’t really thinking about anything. What did you say?”

“I asked if you heard back from Allison. About that woman Millie saw.”

“My phone’s inside. Charging. She’ll leave a message. Or call yours.”

“I haven't had a signal for hours.”

“That’s not a bad thing,” he says, pressing a kiss to her cheek before she turns back around. “No one can bother us. Isn’t that what we want? Just get away from everything? Everyone?”

“We do have five kids at home,” she reminds him. “Someone should be able to get a hold of us if there’s an emergency.”

“Everything will be fine. No emergencies.”

“And this thing with the woman? The one Millie thinks she saw?”

“She definitely saw her. Just like she saw that guy in the Jeep. She didn’t imagine it and she’s definitely not making it up. Her description was too good and she’s adamant that she saw this person. Even got pissed when the boys suggested she was imagining things. There’s no doubt in my mind that she saw someone.”

“Do you think it’s something to worry about?”

“If I did, we wouldn’t be here right now and you know that.”

“I DO know that. I know you’d stop at nothing to keep them safe...to keep us ALL safe...if you thought there was a legitimate threat. It just sucks that we even think about things like this.”

“Yeah, it does. But that’s what you get for getting mixed up with me.”

“Don’t start. I knew what I was getting into it. I knew what kind of life you were living and all the toes you’d stepped on along the way. It didn’t matter to me. I just wanted to be with you.  I can handle whatever comes with it. With you.”

“YOU can. But what about our kids? We probably should have thought about that beforehand.”

“It was too late to think about anything. Millie was on her way; whether we were prepared or not. And regardless of what you did...what you DO...for a living, you deserve to have a life. You deserve to be happy and be surrounded by people who love you and need you and want you around. I know you don’t think you deserve all of that, but you do. More than anyone else deserves it.”

Smiling, he presses a kiss to her temples and then takes a swallow of beer.

“And I know you sometimes think it's selfish; for getting married and having kids and bringing all of us into a life like this. But it’s not. You’re not a selfish person, Tyler. You’re selfless, if anything. You always have been.”

“You think pretty highly of me,” he teases.

“I do. I’m pretty fond of you, actually. I’m going to keep you. My life would suck if you weren’t  in it.  Do you remember our old apartment?”

“Just outside of Sydney. Yep. How could I forget that place? First time I’d lived with someone in five years. If you can call it living with someone; I was only there on weekends when I was allowed home from the rehab place.”

“I kind of miss that apartment,” she muses. “It wasn’t much, but it was ours. Even if we had to sleep on a mattress on the floor for six months. We didn’t have a lot, but we were happy there. YOU were happy. Even when you were in all that pain and you were exhausted and frustrated with all the therapies and the progress you didn’t think you were making. You never once bitched or moaned or felt sorry for yourself. You were never miserable. You were just happy.”

“You’re saying I’m not happy now?”

“No. I know you are. I see it every time you’re with your kids. It’s just that you were going through so much...you’d just BEEN through so much...and you never let it break you.”

“I couldn’t let it break me. I had you. We had a baby on the way. You both needed me. I HAD to keep going. For the two of you.”

“Remember the first night we brought Millie home? And she cried. A lot.”

“She cried all night,” Tyler recalls. “So did you. I think you cried more than she did. I had two crying women to deal with.”

“I was so frustrated and exhausted and depressed and scared. I was terrified of being a shitty mom. And you were so good with her. With both of us. I remember how you walked the apartment with her for hours. Just holding er and rubbing her back and talking to her; your voice was so soft and so calm and you were so patient. I watched you with her and I swear I’d never seen anything more beautiful. You with a baby. OUR baby. I didn’t think I could love any more than I already did, and then I watched you being a dad.”

He brushes the tip of his nose against her ear, then kisses it. “How drunk are you?”

“I’m not drunk. I’m sentimental. I can’t help it. Being here with you...ALONE with you...it has me all up in my feels. We’ve never gotten this; this time together. Even when we were in Ireland, it was never about us. It was about the job. This is the first time in nearly seven years where it’s just me and you. And I like it. Being this way with you.”

“So do I. We needed this.”

“We did,” she agrees. “Sometimes it feels as if we don’t exist outside of being parents and raising kids together. Like we’ve completely forgotten about each other and what’s like to be an actual couple. Not just a mom and dad. And I’ve missed seeing you like that. As more than that.”

“I missed that too. I’ve missed you.” He presses a kiss to her temple and tightens his hold on her, forearm sliding further up onto her neck. “I’ve missed US.”

“Things are so much better now. Since we moved here. Being in Colorado was nice, but being here is better. You’re different when you’re here. You’re not as stressed; not on edge so much. You’re more relaxed. Grounded, I guess. You’re in your happy place.”

“Well it’s home,” Tyler reasons. “I just needed someone to MAKE it a home with.”

She smiles and turns her face into his, placing a kiss against the corner of his mouth. “You can be really sweet and cute, you know that?”

“Don’t you start.”

“It’s true,” she laughs, and then pecks his cheek before turning to face the fire once more. “I don’t care how much you hate hearing it. It doesn’t make you soft or weak or less of a man for being like that. Far from it. It actually makes you even more attractive.  And sexy. That you can be like this with me. That you’re not afraid to be emotional or sentimental. Or vulnerable.”

“You’re the only person I CAN be that way with.”

“I’m lucky. I get all these different sides of you that no one else gets to see. It’s like hiding this huge secret from the rest of the world. One that they’ll never, ever, figure out. You’re a mystery to everyone else. I’m the only one who really knows you.”

“Yeah,” Tyler agrees. “You are.”

“Your secret is safe with me. I promise I won’t tell anyone that you cry during Fox and the Hound and Inside Out. I know you have a reputation to uphold.”

He grins. “What reputation is that?”

“The guy that took out a whole apartment of hostiles in Dhaka. Who humiliated Amir Asif. Who took a bullet to the neck AND lived. You really ARE too stubborn to die.”

“Or I’m just lucky.”

“Maybe some of both?”

“Maybe. Or maybe it has something to do with someone putting their fingers in my neck to keep me alive AFTER I got shot.”

“I don’t want to talk about that,” Esme says. “I did what I had to do. You would have done the same thing. You wouldn't have left me on that bridge.”

“Not in a million years.”

“I almost thought you were going to leave me the first day, though. When I pissed you off in the market. You were so mad. I thought for sure you were going to dump my ass in the street somewhere. I don’t think I’ve seen you that angry since. Except for that time that weird guy followed me home from the post office because he wanted to ask me out and didn’t believe me when I told him I was married.”

“I could have killed that fucking guy.”

“You were so pissed! ” she recalls. “I thought he was going to shit his pants when you walked out of the house. He wasn’t expecting there to even be a husband, never mind one that looks like you. And then he tried to get all macho and mouthy and actually thought he could take you. You only had like six inches and fifty pounds on him.”

Tyler smirks. “Wasn’t much of a fight.”

“It was two hits. You hitting him, and him hitting the ground. My hero,” she presses a kiss to his forearm. “My knight in slightly tarnished armour.”

“Nothing I wouldn’t do for you. You know that.”

“Yeah, I do,” she smiles. “And just so you know, I’d fight a bear for you.”

“You would, would you?”

“Maybe not a black bear or a polar bear or a grizzly. And maybe not a koala because they’re sketchy as fuck. But a Care Bear. I’d fight a Care Bear for you.”

He laughs at that, and she’s giggling when she turns her face into his and kisses him. Nails digging into his forearm through the fabric of his hoodie, her tongue gentle yet insistent as it pushes its way past his lips and teeth; his hand moving up to cup her cheek. “I’ve got something for you.” he says.

“My other surprise?”

He nods.

“And this one is definitely from you? Not the kids?”

“Just from me.”

“It’s not even my birthday. Or our anniversary. And Christmas was only two months ago and we’re past Valentine’s Day. So what’s it for?”

“It’s not for anything. It's a ‘just because’ kind of surprise.”

“Just because what?”

“Just because I felt like it. And because I love you.”

She grins. “And you say you’re not sappy.”

“Here,” he digs into one of the pockets on his hoodie and pulls out a small black velvet box, offering it to her.

Her eyes narrow. “What did you do?”

“What do you mean what did I do? I didn’t do anything. I wanted to buy you something so I bought you something.”

“Just because?”

“Yep. Just because.”

“Tyler…”

“Esme…”

“What is this?”

“Just take it. It’s yours. Just open it.”

“I’m kind of scared to.”

“Why?”

“Because you’ve done something you didn’t have to do and I’m going to get all emotional and up in my feels and you hate when I get all up in my feels and ugly cry.”

He smirks. “If it happens, I’ll deal with it. Just open it.”

“Okay…” she  takes the box from him, turning her body sideways and draping both legs over his thigh. “AM I going to cry?”

“Knowing you? Probably.”

“You’re trouble. Making me cry.”

“It’ll be a good cry. I promise.”

“Alright…” she says, and then pops open the lid of the box, tears immediately glistening in her eyes; lower lip trembling as she looks from the ring nestled inside, to him, then back down again.

It isn’t over the top of outlandish; something simple and classic for a woman that’s never cared about the materialistic things in life. Who was happy in that small apartment outside of Sydney and who would have been just as happy in a shack in the outback. But the solitaire diamond sparkles brilliantly in the glow cast by the fire, as does the rose gold band it’s set in.

“You like it?” he asks.

She nods, and he presses a kiss to her forehead and uses a thumb to clear the tears off her cheeks. “It’s beautiful,” she breathes. “YOU’RE beautiful. Why…?”

“Millie asked why you didn’t have one. She said you guys watched some wedding show on tv and that all the ladies have engagement rings and why didn’t you have one?”

“She’s pretty observant that daughter of yours. Did you tell her that I never expected one or asked for one or really wanted one?”

“I told her that when we got married, we didn’t have a lot of money and you said you didn’t care about things like diamonds and fancy shit. That you were happy with just a wedding band.”

“Which is true. I’ve always been happy with just that.”

“I know. But she asked why we’d been married forever and you still didn’t have one. So I figured I better get my shit together and show my daughter that I’m not some douche that doesn’t love her mother.”

“I don’t need a ring to know you love me. You find ways to let me know you do. You didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted to. It shouldn’t have taken me six and a half years.”

“I wouldn’t have cared if it took you sixty,” Esme says. “And it’s beautiful and it’s perfect and you’re beautiful and perfect and I don’t deserve it. Or you.”

“Now you’re just talking shit. You deserve more than that. More than me.”

“Now YOU’RE talking shit,” she counters.

“How about we don’t talk shit about ourselves,” Tyler suggests. “Here..”  he takes the box from her, setting it on his thigh and then plucking the ring from its confines. “...hand.”

She grins. “You’re so romantic. There’s the Tyler I know and love. Did you tell your daughter you asked me to marry you in the bathroom?”

“I did actually.”  He slips the ring onto her finger and then presses a kiss to the inside of her wrist. “I told her you were pregnant with her and that you were worried you were getting fat and ugly. That I thought you were the most beautiful woman in the world and I said ‘marry me’ and that was it. There was never really a question.”

“It was a very Tyler like way of asking though. And I said ‘okay’, so technically, it WAS a proposal. In our own weird way.”

“Weird seems to be our thing.”

“I prefer unconventional,” she says, then kneels between his legs. “We’re unconventional. Not weird. We’ve never been normal, per say. We started out in a very unconventional way and we’ve kept it going ever since. Maybe that’s what makes us so good together.  We don’t expect normal from each other.”

His hands settle on her hips. “Maybe.”

“I mean, I married a mercenary. That’s about as far from normal as you can get.”

“You had your chance, you know. To get away. You could have said no.”

“Your eyes and your ass were way too nice to say no to.”

He grins.

“And I don’t care what you did...or do...for a living,” she declares, his face cradled in her hands as she kisses him softly. “I would have said yes a million times over.”

[natashacoco]

Shisha Lounge Daydreams

Florian Munteanu x Reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, Mentions of unprotected sex, m/f penetration, fingering, oral (m/f), choking, rough sex, smoking (Shisha), tiny bit of angst

Prompt: smutty little one shot. Reader sees Florian at one of his favorite Shisha Lounges in Munich while solo traveling and not so pure thoughts cross their mind.

Inspiration: “It seemed that the only lover she had ever wanted was a lover in a dream” F. Scott Fitzgerald The Beautiful and The Damned.

You had been in Munich for the past two weeks, enjoying the last leg of your first solo traveling experience. Berlin and Frankfurt had been checked off the list as well as some amazing spur of the moment places off the beaten path you wouldn’t have found if you hadn’t gone by yourself.

Everybody back home had told you that it was dangerous, that it wasn’t a good idea, that other “stronger” women could travel alone, just not you. It didn’t help that friends and family started sending you articles about how dangerous the places you were planning on visiting were or the crime rate, etc. that they could think of for you to not go. You had thanked them all kindly for caring about you, but it only made you even more determined to want to go.

You had been invited to try out a local Shisha Lounge called Bo12 by some of your fellow hostel mates and had enjoyed the experience so much that you’d gone several times as a way to decompress after a long day of sightseeing. You had never heard of Shisha Lounges but realized that they were something that you had enjoyed. Seeing as today was your last day in Germany, you had invited some of the others from the dorm to join you in the late afternoon.

Joining you was Rosario from Spain, Fern and Simon from Australia, Philip and his mate Max from England and Margaux from France. Drinks were flowing, conversation light and laughing so hard your entire body was shaking from one another’s travel stories and mishaps.

You had been so engrossed with your group that you hadn’t seen the man whom you had dubbed the BFG (Big Friendly Giant) arrive with a few of the men you’d seen before and a few new ones. You’d given him the nickname a) because of the sheer size of him, his large frame towering over you and almost everyone he came into contact with, b) he just seemed to be one of the nicest and friendliest guys in the room, always laughing and joking with everyone he came into contact with and c) the book had been one of your favorites growing up. You had seen him here before and it looked like he frequented this lounge many times, but you could never bring yourself to talk to him. Who were you kidding, he was gorgeous and you were just, well, you. That didn't stop your mind from wandering unfortunately. He looked better than he did the last time you saw him, did he do it to torture the human population?

Taking a sip from your drink, you twist your head in the BFG’s direction and silently take him in. He was dressed casually, light jeans with a few cutouts, a white tee under a black leather jacket, his chain swapped out for a cross. The outfit was simple, his presence anything but. At least his shirt wasn’t the one that read “I must break you” like the first time your eyes landed on him. Yeah, you can break my back you had laughed absentmindedly then, the thought coming into your mind more and more as you had seen him.

You could hear him speaking to a waitress and order his drink, his deep voice washing over your body even from across the room, your eyes continuing to wander over his body. He turned slightly, most likely feeling your eyes on him. Embarrassed, you dart your eyes back to your group, hoping he didn’t catch your staring.

After a few minutes and a few more sips of liquid courage, you make sure he isn’t looking your way when you turn in his direction again. You take in his figure, his broad shoulders, and the muscles in his arms that make his leather jacket look tight, larger than life hands with thick fingers, his hair short with a fade and a nicely trimmed beard. He takes a long drag of his Shisha and exhales, the smoke casting a sensuous fog around him. He takes a bite of fruit from the assortment in front of him when some of the juice lingers. He licks the bit of it off of his bottom lip, slowly so he can savor every last bit of it. He’d use his finger to help with what’s left.

You imagine the way you’d reach for his short hair while his large hands are gripped around your thighs, pinning you to the bed as his tongue laps at your folds, smirking as he’s telling you how much he wants you to cum on his tongue. He’d treat you like you were a fine delicacy that only he could have, he’d be greedy and needy as you’d beg him to finally let you come, your voice hoarse from screaming. He’d be so commanding, adding one, then two of his long thick fingers as he curls them inside you to find your G spot until your back arches and you cum, again and again as you try to stifle your moans until you’re a boneless mess on the bed, aftershocks coursing through your body. To think what his tongue could do to your body that the rest of his hadn’t even done yet. What’s left of your arousal on his mouth would be treated like the fruit, savored and indulged because you were what he craved.

What?!? No, you can’t think like this. Not here, not with him in the same building. Your daydreaming causes you to look around to see if anyone can see where your mind had just wandered. Thankfully no one does, or if they did they give you the modesty of not calling you out.

You glance down at his hands, and the way his fingers curl around his glass. You imagine what it’d be like, those hands ghosting over your naked back, bringing you closer to his naked chest, your breasts a contrast to his hard masculine body.

You feel your face flush and your entire body begins to feel too hot. Why did he have to make you feel this way? Why couldn’t he just be like anybody else and leave you with no indifference towards him and let you go on with your life? No, that’d be too easy. You try and try countless times to return your attention to an interesting story involving an eyepatch, Uno Cards and why somebody couldn’t eat cotton candy (Fairy Floss) anymore, but how could you concentrate when he looks the way he does? You can do this, you can ignore him. That’s what you’re going to do.

Another erotic imagine flashes through your mind, this one of the two of you tangled together in bed, his arms bulging as he’s thrusting into you, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, with his tongue licking the droplets of sweat that’s started to collect on your skin. The way you’d run your nails up and down them, touching and committing every part of them to memory, caressing them as he grips the sheets on either side of your head, knuckles white from grasping them so tightly, your cunt feels like Nirvana and he wants to make it his haven. He tells you that he you’re his, that your body belonged to him and only him. You bite his shoulder, marking his skin in blissful possession.

His thrusting gets more erratic as the signs from your body he’s come to know so well begin to surface as you mewl and whimper, grabbing his ass and urging him to take your body harder and faster, his cock becoming even harder and thicker inside you, the delicious bite of pleasure and pain coexisting as he brings your body to it’s limits. He grips the headboard as an anchor, it smacking against the wall without falting, the other wrapped around your neck, isolating his hips to pound into you, his mouth glued to your ear as his grunts echo his movements. You’re going to get complaints from neighbors and envious stares from others.

Your pussy spasms around his dick, tears forming in your ears from the overwhelming pleasure he’s bringing your body, him swiveling his hips to prolong your orgasm. He mutters that he’s close and you hurriedly push him to his back, wrapping as much of your mouth around his girth as you can, tasting yourself and him. You hollow out your mouth and apply the tight pressure he craves, locking eyes with him as you bob your head up and down, feeling him in the back of your throat. He warns you that he’s about to cum and it spurs you on faster, using your hands and mouth to make him cum, his abdomen jerking from his own orgasm as thick ropes of his semen cover his lower stomach. You’re quick to lick it off of him as one hand is thrown over his eyes and one lazily playing with your hair as he tells you how much he loves when you lick him clean.

Your breathing begins to quicken. You need to leave, you need…you need…hell, you need him in any way, shape or form that you can get. If that meant a daydream version, so be it. But you couldn’t, not right now, not with him invading your thoughts the way he was. You needed some distance, and some privacy before your thoughts began to roam again.

You excuse yourself from the group and make your way to the toilets. After freshening up you take a look in the mirror and notice your reflection in it. Staring back at you is a woman with flushed cheeks, a small indentation on your lips from where you had bitten them to stop yourself from moaning aloud from any number of your earlier erotic thoughts. You can feel a slight dampness between your legs, evidence of your aroused state. You quickly grab a few paper towels, wet them and try to bring your body temperature down if at all possible. You bring the dampened towel to the back of your neck, hoping it helps.

Time away from the object of your fantasies only pushes them closer to the front of your mind.

He picks you up as if you barely weigh anything and places you on the bathroom countertop, strong hands running up the back of your thighs and under your dress as he hooks his fingers into your panties, pulling them down excruciating slow, nipping and biting your neck as he settles between them, his engorged erection pressing against your pussy with just enough pressure.

He tells you all the ways that you belong to him, your body was his to love and cherish, one hand slipping into you as he toyed with your clit. He would stroke you. Barely. Lazily. Just enough to keep you uncomfortably aroused and on edge. He promises endless ways he’s going to take you, and you in return. You joke that your bed wasn’t made for a marathon, but he grabs your face with the other hand and lifts it so your eyes look into his, eyes dilated from how much he wants you. With a roughened voice from lust, he explains to you that although yes a marathon, the bed is always optional, as is the wall, the shower, your ass bent over the sofa, his childhood bedroom (with a sly smirk of course), you on your knees and a mouth full of his cock, you bouncing on his dick as he demands you take him inch by inch, each location promised with a drag and pull of his hand. He pulls out of you just as slowly as he entered and brings his fingers to your mouth, the unspoken demand not needed as you taste yourself on his fingers. He helps you down off the counter and stuff your panties into his pocket as he leads you out of the bathroom.

You quickly run cool water over your face and return to the group, a fleeting glance in his direction as you settle back in. As the night comes to an end, you and the group pack up and head towards the exit, intoxicated on laughter and alcohol as you wait outside for your ride to head back to the hostel. You’re in a deep conversation when a large body bumps into you.

Please don’t be who I think it is, please don’t be who you think it is you repeat again and again as you look up.

“Es tut mir leid, ich habe dich nicht gesehen” he says apologetically. (I’m sorry, I didn’t see you).

You nod, and although you don’t understand German you get the just of what he said and turn back towards your companions and him to his.

Having him so close doesn’t make things easier. Seeing him from afar was one thing, but now actually being so close was torture. The smell of his cologne lingered in the spring air, invading your senses.

He says something else in German and his deep voice causes goosebumps to travel up your spine, you shaking a little from the intensity and his nearness, your body wound up so tightly from your sexual frustration with no relief in sight. It looked like yet another night of masturbatory fantasies were in store for you. Your breathing comes in shallow breaths as you do everything in your willpower not to turn your back and look at him for the last time.

What you didn’t expect was to see him off to the side, leaning against a wall, toothpick in hand and bringing it to his mouth and his eyes glued to yours. The next thing you know, he’s walking straight towards you.

“Tut mir leid, dass ich dich früher getroffen habe. Kann ich dir vielleicht ein Getränk als Entschuldigung kaufen?” He says in German. (Sorry about bumping into you earlier. Can I possibly buy you a drink as an apology?)

You look to him and then to one of your other friends, praying that somebody could hopefully help in translating what he said. When he notices that you don’t respond and have a confused look on your face, he chuckles and asks again, this time in English.

You’d only ever heard him speak German, but nothing could prepare you for how deep his voice was when speaking English, and although his form somewhat intimidating, his voice was soft and gentle. His accent only adding to his sex appeal and instantly skyrocketing into oblivion.

The things you’d want him to say to you as you’re having sex, the dirty talk, the whispered sweet nothings between English and German that you’d cherish countless times. You imagine him on his back as you’re both topless, you wearing nothing but your favorite pair of fishnet tights, running your hands down his chest. The way your name would sound coming off his lips when his head is tilted towards the ceiling as you’d suck him dry, or as he'd grip you hair tightly as he pounded into you from behind, the mixture of your moans as you come together from lazy morning lovemaking and even lazier cuddling.

You tell him that although it wasn’t necessary, tonight was your last night in the city and wouldn’t be able to accept the drink. You see him sigh in disappointment and mentally kick yourself for having to turn him down.

Outside, the sun is setting and reflects his green eyes that you didn’t know he had. You’d never want to look away from them when he’s on top of you, his body weight delicious reminder of why your body is so sore for days to follow, or you on top of him, his eyes piercing yours. His green eyes would say everything in those moments when words weren’t needed. Love, lust, admiration, joy, want, need, everything and so much more. The only time that breaking eye contact would be necessary would be in moments of pure carnal bliss.

“You have gorgeous eyes” You half whisper, half say to yourself, him, you don’t know.

“Thanks. I’m Florian, by the way” He laughs, “But all my friends call me ‘Big Nasty’” he finishes, getting out a pair of sunglasses to cover them as you blush from your accidental slip. He introduces you to two of the men you’ve noticed accompany him before, Masias and Sandro.

“Y/N Y/L/N.” You reply, shaking his hand and those of his friends. “But my friends just call me Y/N” you reply, earning a chuckle from the now dubbed “The Big Nasty BFG”. You and the guys get into a conversation on how you had enjoyed Munich and the various Shisha lounges that you had tried in your tour of Germany. You find out that besides speaking fluent German and English, Florian also speaks Romanian and your earlier fantasy of him switching languages reappears.

All too soon your Uber arrives and wish the men a goodnight. As the car pulls away, you smile to yourself. As much as you wanted to accept the drink from Florian, the daydreams of an almost lover would be all you had of him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags: @michelleteriney (😘) @honeychicana @melinda-january @carefreebarnes @mistress-to-the-moon @dc41896 @blackinkfics @lady-olive-oil

You can always read my other Florian writing by reading Early Morning Surprises Pt 1 and Pt 2.

As always, leave a comment or something. I do have some other things I want to write about for Florian since I have the writing bug. I for sure have something with fluff that I got inspired to write after finding a new artist, so cheers to that coming soon!

[araminia16]

Not An Illness After All (Third Trimester)

XxOxX

After the third bathroom trip in what seemed to be only a few minutes Rayla glared down at the bump which housed her growing child. She could no longer see her feet. As far as she knew they didn’t exist except when they ached in time with her back and the struggle when she put footwear on and off.

Almost as if in response she received a strong kick to her rib. “Cheeky thing.” She huffed then glanced upward to find a servant across the hall from where she stood at the doorway to her room. “What are you looking at then?”

The servant quickly scurried away from her wrath and she began to walk through the castle. The training ground. That’s where she could just relax and not worry about Callum and his attentive anxious aura or Claudia’s gaze or the glare from other Moonshadow elves as they took in her state and the reason for it.

Claudia ended up on the convoy to the Moonshadow elf capital and once they arrived she had hardly been seen since in the open but Rayla knew the corners from which she hid herself.

She and Callum were ambassadors and as such received lavish accommodations though she tried to ignore the way the other elves whispered and looked her way. At this stage there was nothing to hide. None of her old clothes fit anymore and her once slim musculature of her abdomen devolved into this ball shaped mass. Her center of gravity changed with each day and the things she had been able to do in the stage before she was unable to now. Her tree travel ended up with a rolled ankle and a trip to the healer here in Xadia with a frantic Callum at her back. There was no way she wanted to have a repeat of such an embarrassment. So now her feet remained firmly on the ground though they did not remain idle as she still jogged at least a mile a day and practiced her sword forms as well as balance exercises to keep her body in shape. The head healer here Terlynna told her exercise would be good for her child as well as herself to prepare her for the arduous task of childbirth. At least Callum had embraced what she said with vigor not that she would ever be truly lazy regardless.

The training yard was much like the one in Katolis and much like the one she had trained on as she grew with Runaan. Her new shoes allowed her to feel much of the earth beneath her and she rolled her toes before she started up her jog. It was strange to feel all the weight of the child and fluids within her belly with each measured movement of her body. The support sash given to her by Terlynna helped immensely with the back pain as well. As the jog ended she went directly to the sword post and drew a practice blade or tried to when a younger male stopped her. “Shouldn’t you be in your rooms knitting or something?”

“What does it matter to ya?” She fired back and pulled the wooden blade from the rack.

“I don’t even know why they let you come back. You failed in killing the king and his son then you brought a human into Xadia to steal our magic. You should be locked up as a traitor, not married to their royalty. Or was that your plan all along?”

“Why don’t ya mind your own business before ya get hurt.” Her hiss took the male aback and for a moment she thought her threat would leave her in peace but nothing ever went as planned.

“Even that thing in your belly isn’t natural. It will probably die after birth anyway so I don’t know why you would go through all this trouble for it.”

Rayla knew she didn’t have much in the way of experience when it came to mothers. She often had doubts about what sort of mother she would make but she couldn't’ stop her hand from it’s path with the wooden sword as it hit solid flesh with a satisfying crack. The sound of his pain as he fell back and hit the ground with a thud was like music to her ears as she stood over him with menace. “I gave ya a chance didn’t I? Then you had to say something about my baby. Listen here, boy. If you so much as look my way again while I’m here I will break so many bones you won’t be able to carry a weapon much less talk again. Do ya understand me?”

The boy nodded and held his bloody nose as some other younger trainees hauled him up.

“Anyone else have a problem with me or my baby?” When no one else answered, “Good. Let’s keep it that way then.” It wasn’t until later in the safety of her room and Callum’s arms she cried.

The next day there were so many apologies from the Consul’s staff she thought she might vomit or thwack them upside the head too while she nearly had to chase Callum away from her. He actually wanted to go back to the boy who accosted her and throw him around with his power a bit. Though it would have made her happy she told him it would be a bad idea for a human to do such things to an elf with their peace so new still.

In the end he agreed grumpily and rubbed her back and feet properly as she lounged and gorged herself on Moonberries.

It was in the garden where Claudia found her of all places. A moment of peace secluded in the trees of her homeland. “Hello, Rayla.”

“Claudia.” Came the guarded reply.

“I heard about the thing in the yard.”

“It seems like everyone has. What do ya want?” Straight to the point there was no sense in making small talk as far as Rayla was concerned.

“I just wanted to talk to you. Maybe get to know you a little bit since you married Callum and all.”

“That was a role you expected to take, right?” Rayla didn’t bother to hide much of the bite of jealousy from her tone.

“I know you have a lot of really good reasons to be on your guard but please don’t do that.” Claudia came around to sit on the bench across from her.

Rayla put hand atop her belly to comfort the suddenly active child within. “Do what?”

“Attack me. It’s not fair and you know it. That stuff has been in the past for a long time now and I would rather not bring it up. Though if you want to know Callum had always been my friend and I knew he liked me but I also knew that we probably wouldn’t last as a couple. Not with his disdain for Dark Magic and I think you two are actually a really good match. You compliment each other way better than he and I could have. It was just a crush. Mostly one sided but I wouldn’t have minded if it hadn’t been. He’s got a thing for the unattainable I think.”

Claudia looked so sincere that Rayla loosened up at little bit, “Well I also have other reasons ta not like you much. With the whole trying to kill me thing...quite a few times actually.” Rayla had been about to count on her hand but decided against it. There were too many. She would have to include toes too.

“Yeah. I’m really sorry about all that too. I just feel so out of place in Katolis and here but that’s because there’s elves everywhere. Home doesn’t feel like home anymore, you know. I grew up there my whole life and I feel like it’s all gone now.”

Strangely Rayla knew exactly what she meant, “Yeah. I’m back in Xadia but since I married Callum and ‘betrayed’ everyone I feel like everyone’s judging me. Especially with this little wee thing in me. They keep thinking it’s some kind of monster but I can tell it’s only got two legs and two arms and probably a head in there somewhere. But I can’t help but wonder if they’re right. What if it can’t live?” Why she confessed such things to the women in front of her she didn’t know but the way Claudia looked at her only made her feel more vulnerable.

“I didn’t know that.” She uttered quietly though her look now pensive as she offered Rayla a small smile, “I’m sure everything will be fine. Does it move a lot?”

“Constantly especially while I’m trying to sleep. It likes it when I run and move sort of like i’m rocking it to sleep.”

“Is it moving now?”

“A bit.” Rayla paused, “I suppose you want ta feel it then?”

Claudia looked guilty but put her hands up, “Well I do but I wasn’t going to ask you. That’s really personal and I don’t know if we could even be that personal anyway.” She had started to ramble a little after that when Rayla sighed. The elf reached over and sntached the wrist of the other girl in hand to place it atop her belly.

It warmed her heart when she felt her child kick against Claudia's palm. Claudia jerked a little and looked in open mouthed shock at the place where her hand rested. There was a quiet wonder in bright eyes as it happened again and this time she smiled and Rayla heard a quiet giggle. “Holy cow. It kicks really hard. Do you know what it is? Well of course you don’t. It’s not here yet. Do you think you know what it is? What do you want?” The questions were rapid fire as Rayla released Claudia’s hand and the other woman sat back in anticipation of the answers. It reminded her a little of Callum.

“I haven't thought much about it. I just hope it’s healthy. Callum thinks it’s a boy. I’m not sure if that’s because men have an obsession with a carrying on the bloodline or something ridiculous.”

“Yeah. It’s pretty dumb honestly. But I think you have a preference. You just don’t want to jinx it.”

Rayla felt her child kick but didn’t answer the question, “What about you? Do ya have any men in mind?”

Claudia gave a slow, sly smile, “Maybe.”

Rayla leaned back to listen. Maybe Claudia wasn’t quiet so bad after all.

$#$#$#

Callum sighed as he felt the steady thump of their child’s feet on his back. It amazed him how hard such a little thing could kick and from the even breaths on the nape of his neck he knew she slept deeply now even if his abuser didn’t. Callum managed to wiggle away from Rayla without her awakening and he silently congratulated himself even though he was sure she was just exhausted and sore from her continued punishment on her body.

There was nothing he could say to make her slow down but she wouldn’t be Rayla if she did.

He scooted down the bed until he lay face to rounded belly. The loose shirt she wore to bed had ridden up to expose round purple flesh  and half of her belly button. He could see the bulge just under her skin and muscle where he rested. Or she. He would secretly call the baby ‘he’ until they knew for sure. Right now he lay on the bed where his mother positioned herself and each kick shifted the shirt a minute amount but he could see where her skin poked out and it fascinated him. One time when they lay in bed he watched as his son rolled from one side of Rayla’s belly to the other with fascinated horror and an exclamation to match. To Rayla it was business as usual and so she laughed at his utter shock of something actually being alive in there. Something alive that moved constantly from the way she talked about it. It would be so interested to be pregnant but he didn’t have any wish to be in her shoes.

Elven pregnancies, he learned were shorter than human ones at thirty four- thirty six weeks where humans usually lasted longer. Maybe it was the less fingers but he had to hide from a projectile when she learned she might actually have to be pregnant longer than she thought with a half human child. Right now she was thirty two weeks along and he thought she looked better than she ever had. It was a testosterone thing but he didn’t care.

“Hey.” He whispered to his child. “Could you take it easy on your mom and me? She’s pretty tired and grumpy and you have a crazy hard kick. I think I might actually have a bruise or something tomorrow. I bet you’ll be just like your mom. Kicking serious butt all the time or maybe like me because I can’t even lift a sword properly. Or you might not be like either of us but whatever you do just know we will always love you and be so proud of you. But for right now you should get some sleep. You have some more growing to do before we get to meet you for real.”

“Who are ya talking to you loon?” Rayla mumbled sleepily from above as she shifted and sat up on her elbow to stare at him through bleary eyes.

“Your child was kicking me in the back.”

“Welcome to my life. It’s always kicking me somewhere. Speaking of I think I need some help. I feel like a whale and I probably look like one too.”

“You look beautiful.” His response was automatic, “Trust me.” He moved up and over her legs to help her sit then stand up.

“Yeah well you are the one who got us in this mess to begin with.”

“It takes two you know.”

“Shut it.” She meandered over to the door.

“That’s the hallway.” He called out just before she turned the knob and he could hear her sigh of irritation as she turned and went to the other door.

Callum smiled as he leaned over to his side of the bed and pulled out his sketchbook. Rayla trudged back to lay on her side and pulled the covers over her before she drifted back to sleep.

It was a while before he went to bed. He just had to draw her again. Had to capture this moment forever onto paper though with his memory he would likely remember it for as long as he wanted. Soon he might not have the time to do much of anything from what the other older parents told them. Soon two would become three.

$#$#$#

Rayla shifted on her knees uncomfortably, “Would you hurry up?”

Callum shifted behind her, “I have a feeling you don’t want to do this.”

“Noooo. Ya don’t say? This is what the healer told me we should do to get this little beast out of me faster. It’s been thirty six weeks. I want ta be done already.” She whined.

“I don’t think I want to do this if you don’t want it.”

“Just do it already. I’ll be fine.” Even with the pillows bunched as a cocoon under her substantial belly her back was already sore. She shifted on hands. “Now.”

“I’m...I’m not feeling it.”

“Do ya need me ta serenade ya with a sweet melody and hold ya close before ya get into the mood then? I swear I ask my husband to lie with me and he acts as if it is a burden.”

“I--.” He started then gave up. “You aren’t even ready.” For emphasis he stroked fingers through her warmth and she knew he was right. This would be painful and so close to delivery injury to her nethers was hardly a good idea.

“I want to try this. I’ve done just about everything else.” And she had. She tried to walk and eat spicy foods, tried to bounce on a large spongy ball, but not the castor oil the healer recommended. She wanted to do this first. “Ya know how to prepare me. So do it.”

Callum sighed, “It will be harder in this position. You’ll have to get on your side for me.”

She complied and soon his mouth had her well and ready for whatever he wanted to do for her as he rolled her onto her knees again. It was still a snug fit even with preparation but he went so slow she growled with impatience and in return he gave her a swat on her backside.

At first she felt as if everything was too deep. This position didn’t usually do much for her but it was the only one she could manage without too much trouble. Being flat on her back made her breathless and if she tried to sit astride she would have to do all the work and she was too heavy for that. They had tried on their sides a few times but they couldn’t get the angle right.

Rayla’s arms wobbled with sudden weakness and she dropped to her forearms to wait Callum out. The movement arched her back and sudden on his next pass he brushed against something strange but good.

He paused as he felt her reaction and passed over the same spot slowly and she reacted again with a short exhale. Callum gave a small noise of triumph and though the angle brought something in his back taut and sore he hit the same spot with slow regularity. She shifted and moaned softly as he sped up. Soon enough her cries grew needy and Callum’s brow moist with the effort of trying to keep his release in check as she shuddered and whined. It wasn’t enough.

Though it messed with his rhythm he reached around to the front and found the other place he knew she loved and timed each thrust with a motion of his hand.

There it was. Within a few more strokes he had her keen her release as he groaned and let himself be carried away with her until they were both sated and spent.

“I hope that was enough.”

“Me too.” Callum pulled back and grimaced as his back spasmed uncomfortably while he stood. “Not that I don’t really enjoy doing this together.”

“Quiet, you.” Rayla sighed and shifted to lie on her side. “How am I so tired all the time?”

Callum smiled and leaned over to kiss her, “It probably won’t get any better. At least that’s what they tell me.”

“Comforting.” She grumbled.

Several hours later in the dead of night Rayla stirred but didn’t understand why. Eyes open she surveyed the room and found no sound or strange shadow in the room. She felt the heat of Callum’s hand atop her belly and just as she started to drift off to sleep she felt a pain tighten in her belly. It rose slowly and peaked uncomfortably before it fell again to disappear. Now she was awake. It happened two more times in sporadic intervals before she decided to wake him, “Callum. Wake up.”

When he only muttered and shifted sleepily she sighed, “Callum.” Louder now. “I think it’s time.”

“Time?” The sleepy murmur sounded adorably confused until he shot up as she shifted to sit up herself. “Time? As in ‘the time’?” He scrambled out of bed and with very little grace he shot across the room to unlock the door and flung it open.

He was halfway out the door, “Callum.” Rayla called out, “You might want to get some proper clothes on before we find the healer.” She felt far calmer than she ought to as another pain began.

Callum scrambled back to her and hovered anxiously, “What can I do?”

“Get clothes on. And find some for me too.”

He did as he was bid while the pain passed and soon she had a proper dress thrown over her head and Callum had some semblance of proper clothing on as they made their way down to the healing ward, “Shouldn’t we go faster?”

“I don’t think it’s just going ta fall out of me, Callum. There’s some work to it. My work.”

When they reached the hall the pains continued for a while but after the healer checked her over she had told the two expectant parents, “You’re child isn’t on the way just yet. These are practice contractions.”

“Practice? They bloody well hurt ta be practice.”

“Labor is no easy thing. As with your weapons your body needs to train to be able to do its job.”

“This is all your fault.” She huffed at Callum who merely sighed in disappointment.

“Well I think we should go back to our room and get some rest.”

After a heated discussion between the two parties Rayla’s contractions had faded into the day and they trudged back to their room exhausted and discouraged. The healer had told them the baby was low and in position but was in no hurry to leave it’s current residence.

He left her for the day in their rooms for her to rest with a kiss to her head near her horns and a rub to her back, “Don’t worry about it. Everything will be fine. He’s just being stubborn. You rest and maybe today will be better.”

Rayla nodded off to sleep after she had gone to the bathroom again. For the millionth time today.

It was three more nights in the past five days where they made their way down to the healer ward to be told there were only practice contractions. By the last they didn’t even bother to get dressed properly as they made their way down the halls.

With little to no sign that her child would make an appearance any time soon Callum arranged for their departure to Katolis with Claudia in tow. A healer had offered to make the journey with them just in case they had need of one.

Rayla, now a week overdue by her standards, sat in the carriage as now she felt too large to ride comfortably on horseback in a sullen mood.

Claudia offered to sit with her a while on the road back to the new bridge built to cross from Xadia into the human kingdoms.

“It can’t be that bad can it?”

“What?” Rayla shifted as her back spasm and ached uncomfortably. The pain radiated around her sides and faded after she moved.

“I mean at least you get to be more prepared for it. It gives you more time to just be the two of you. Because from now on it’s going to be the three of you. No more couple time.”

“We have had plenty of ‘couple time’. I just want to stop aching and be able to sleep and eat without having to pee every two minutes.” She paused and growled, “Stop. I need ta take a break.” She called out of the window and the two women felt the carriage stop. The door opened and Callum appeared to help Rayla down the step and watched as she trudged into the foliage to take care of things.

“So you and Rayla are friends now?”

“Maybe. I’m not really sure. We talk but I would call us more friendly acquaintances than friends. It’s hard to be the only girl in a group of guys.”

“Yeah. I get that.” Callum agreed and spied Rayla on her way back. “Thanks for being there for her. I really appreciate it.”

“We’re friends, aren’t we, Callum? At least I hope we still are.”

Callum nodded as he helped Rayla back up who now winded settled into the carriage as the door closed and they started to move again. She sighed and leaned back as another shot of pain started at her back and rolled around to the front.

“Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

“No. Not at the moment, thank you.” Rayla sighed and rubbed at her belly. “There feels as if there’s a large fruit in between my thighs and I cannot move without looking foolish.”

The pains continued with increased regularity and intensity but Rayla paid them little mind and contributed them to the less than perfectly comfortable carriage but Claudia kept time on each wince on Rayla’s face in time to notice a pattern.

She was about to bring it up when Rayla’s expression changed and the sound of water colliding with wood filled the space as Claudia looked down at the mess of liquid on the floor and her shoes. Rayla froze as Claudia opened up the door and leaned out, “Callum! I think Rayla’s water just broke."

XxOxX

Sorry it’s a bit late. Work sucks. The wee babe is coming! And the next chapter should be out sometime next week! Have a good weekend!

[ezilyamuzed]

Everyone Needs A Sam - Chapter 4

Series Masterlist

Summary: Two Sam’s in the Winchester family is better than one. 

Reader is Named Sam, or sometimes called Red, a nicknamed given by Dean.

Warnings: Language. Some fluff. Some Angst. Mentions of Menstruation (you know because some people get grossed out).  

A/N: Sam Winchester is often now referred to as Sammy, it was just easier. While the confusion in two Sam’s is funny, it can be tough to write. There is a lot here, but it is leading up to some interesting development to say the least. Obviously women aren't typically this psycho when about to hit their period but when you live with the Winchesters and kill monsters for a living your rational is bound to be a little messed up. Also Charlie is in the mix because I love and miss her. Killing her off was one of the biggest mistake the writers ever did!  Ends in Dean’s POV.

As always comments and feedback are welcomed (GIVE ME LOVE). Any errors are completely my own because I am human. If you want a tag in this or anything pop into the ASK box. Thank you for reading! Enjoy!

“Hey Sam it’s time to…whoa,” Sammy stumbled on his words as he pushed your slightly ajar door open. 

Laying there in a spooning position while soundly sleeping was his brother with his long legs and arms wrapped around you tightly like he was a dog with his favorite playmate. He chuckled to himself as he took out his phone to take a picture of the sight, possible blackmail for later. Whatever had happened last night between the two of you was interesting to say the least, but not of importance at this moment. Daylight was burning and there was a job to do.

Sammy pulled the door slowly into a closed position, waiting a few seconds from the moment he had heard the soft click of the lock meet the frame before pounding on the door hard to pretend like he had just gotten there.

“Rise and shine Sam,” he yelled while listening to an audible groan from the other side. “Time to hit the road. I’m packing the car, you go wake up Dean.”

Hearing Sammy’s beaming voice at 5:30 in the morning was not your favorite thing. If you didn’t like him as a person so much, you might have shot him after the first time he did it. He knew that you would reluctantly wake up though because in a few moments if there was no trace of you slowly becoming a functional human for the day, he would be back to it again often growing only louder and more persistent.

Something heavy weighing you down where you laid as you tried to focus your vision to your surroundings. You shifted under whatever it was only to meet something hard pressing itself agianst the lower half of your backside. Your eyes shot open, your vision now clear as you looked to see that it was Dean wrapped around you, holding you down in your place. You swiftly glanced down at yourself and sighed in relief that you were still clothed since you couldn’t even remember anything past the second sex scene in the movie. All you could really remember was laying your head down on Dean’s shoulder while he laid his arm around your shoulder, the simplest touch that made you feel relaxed and at home after feeling pretty crappy all day yesterday. 

You tried to shift yourself slowly from his sleeping grasp, not wanting to wake him and have the awkward conversation that would be bound to happen. Almost to the edge of the bed was when you felt him unconsciously shift forward, making you feel the hard press in your backside once again. Was that his…shit. The shock of what was happening while you steadied yourself on the edge was enough to push you fully over, tumbling hard onto the floor.

“Ow. Shit!”

Dean popped up immediately from his slumber to the sounds of your body hitting the floor and your cries, both wide-eyed and ready for an attack. He looked down to you now rubbing your butt, wincing in pain caused by the hard fall.

“What’cha doin down there Red?” he smirked while wagging his eyebrows.

“Yoga,” you hissed while turning up your nose in annoyance. “What does it look like?”

He laughed at your sarcasm while looking over to the clock that sat on the small table by your bed.

 “Why are we up this damn early?” he moaned while flopping himself down on your bed again.

“Because your brother is ready to go and I sure as hell am not going to let him walk in here on us…”

“On us what? Sleeping?” Dean interrupted with a raised eyebrow.

“I just…,” you mumbled while pushing yourself up to your feet. “I just don’t want him thinking something is going on.”

You watched his face turn into a scowl like you had been talking about a crazily impossible concept. It wasn’t though, you were both human with functioning parts. Well, his you could only assume were by what you had just felt when you woke up. You bite your lip trying not to think about how strong it had felt against you. If your hormones hadn’t already been out of whack, they sure as hell were now.

Dean shifted up from the bed and stretched out his arms above his head, making his shirt rise up just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his strong muscular torso, which was surprisingly tanned although you never saw him out in the sun without at least one layer of clothing on. Along the bottom on his sides where the top of his jeans began, his hips had a strong ‘V’ pattern that was created by the bulging muscles in his abdomen leading your eyes down directly to where it pointed to…

“Ahem,” you heard him clear his throat aloud. You turned quickly on your heels as you could feel your face becoming flushed from being caught in the act of looking a little…too hard. A low chuckle behind you came from him as you could hear the bed squeak as he lifted his weight from it. “I’m going to go take a quick shower.”

When he left the room you fell down on your back hard against your bed while staring at the ceiling. Why on earth did you have to look there? Why did you have to feel it pressed against you? Why the hell couldn’t you stop yourself now from thinking about it? Was this just Mother Nature playing a cruel joke on you, getting you all hot and bothered by the feeling and the glimpse? Were you actually allowing yourself to think of Dean in that way? He was unbelievably mesmerizing in every way but honestly…so was his brother. They both had something different and unique about them that you absolutely loved to be around. You would never want to risk what you had by becoming a “girlfriend” to one and straining a relationship with the other Winchester. 

Pretending that they were unavailable and untouchable to you was the only way you found yourself able to push down any thoughts that would often come through your mind. It was definitely not easy with the random winks and suggestive comments that would come out of their mouths… especially from Dean’s. He was the worst, but after a while you just assumed that it was his own coping mechanism with dealing with the perpetual loneliness that the job entailed. Sam on the other hand was just more…sweet, for lack of a better word. Letting you play with his hair and carefully listening to you when you would complain about whatever was bothering you. Last night though, you remembered how Dean showed his sweet side which was not very often. He actually went out of his way to bring you your favorites and some necessities that you were definitely going to need in a couple days when Aunt Flow would stroll into town. Jesus, why did they both have to be so damn handsome and loving?

“Sam! Come on! It’s time to get your stubborn ass out of bed!” Sammy yelled loudly through your door.

You got up while groaning again, hating that you couldn’t just go back to sleep and forget your ‘wake-up’ call from Dean, however going on a hunt was just what you needed to distract yourself. Moving to the door, you swung it open wide to Sammy still standing there with a shit eating grin sprawled on his face. 

“I’m up,” you scowled giving him a stern look while rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Didn’t know if you were too tired out from last night,” he smirked.

“Excuse me?” you snapped back, wondering if he had known if something had happened between you and Dean.

“You were fuming mad last night,” he stated calmly with a little shrug. “I figured you were hiding out in here awake all night probably thinking of 100 ways that you could kill us in our sleep.”

“Yeah,” you snorted. “More like 104 Sammy.”

“Dean is getting done in the shower,” his voice trailing off as he started to move away from your door towards his own. “Be ready in 10?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved him off. “You are making coffee though!”

“Already done!” he boomed back while still making his way down the long hall to double check if he had forgotten anything that they might need. He stopped in front of Dean’s door that was slightly ajar. His brother was already dressed and moving the clothing he would need into his green duffel, nodding his head rhythmically to a tune that was playing in his head.

“You seem chipper this morning,” Sammy commented with a sly smirk. “Have a good nights sleep?”

“One of the best I’ve had in a long time,” he replied while tossing his red flannel shirt on top of the others. “Why?”

The sly smirk grew wider across Sammy’s face as he gave a little shrug and replied innocently “nothing.” 

It was kind of obvious to Sammy that Dean had started to become attracted to you, but there was no way that he was your type. No, you probably liked guys that didn’t hide away their emotions who listened to you whole heartedly and allowed you to live your life fully, not stepping in the way of it. Sam only had assumed that what you had meant by being tired of pretending was about how you had to act like what his brother was doing didn’t bother you. He knew it was. Hell, it bothered him every time Dean would step up to the older brother role and tell him what to do. Dean was almost as bad if not worse than his father sometimes. 

No, the guy for you was not his brother. He agree that the two of you barely had anything in common other than bad T.V. shows and movies melting their brains. He had more in common with you than that, besides the obvious of being both Sam’s. You were incredibly intelligent, almost completely fluent in Latin and Enochian. You also had this light inside of you, often making him feel that no matter what things were going to be okay. And damn did he think you were beautiful. All the scars from previous jobs, the little way you would crinkled your nose up when something was off, and how your eyes held so much passion in them. 

Sammy long ago had already realized how drawn to you he was, finding blissful pleasure in in their late nights together, even when you were surrounded by books in complete silence. He didn’t exactly have the best track record with relationships though. Something always happened to them that was out of his control, so he himself pretended not to notice your loving stare and full body smile that lit up the room. It was better that way for everyone. 

He had almost told you the other night as you cuddled into his arms, nestling yourself into his grip while tearful. You were way too drunk though. Nothing you said would have been real and honestly he wasn’t sure if you would even remember it at that point as he had noticed the once filled to the brim decanter now more than halfway gone. Letting you fall asleep in his arms while watching your face as you dreamt was a memory that he was going to hold onto for long time. 

“Who drank all my creamer?” you shouted while burying your face in the fridge in search of the sweet cream that was explicitly yours, but somehow would suspiciously deplete a little more than usual everyday. 

“Definitely not me, Red,” Dean commented while pouring the straight black coffee into his thermos, leaving just enough for you. “Maybe we have a ghost around.”

“Maybe it’s the moose,” you pondered out loud while opting to just go ahead and drink it black, maybe the bitterness of the beans would help to wake you up more. 

“So are we good from yesterday?” Dean coaxed nervously, hoping that the bipolarness of your hormones had finally calmed down. 

“Yeah, we are good,” you laughed while pouring the remnants of the coffee into your cup. “You still owe me a new bra though.”

Dean chuckled out loud and nodded in agreement while you scrunched up your nose to the bitterness of the black coffee you had just tasted. 

“Ready to go?” Sammy questioned as he entered the room.

You both nodded your heads to answer him, moving towards the garage where Baby slept comfortably. For the next 4 hours you laid sprawled out in her backseat, while the boys and you came up with a game plan as soon as you got to the town. After checking in two rooms at a tiny motel, you all separated to cover more ground. Sam was taking the preacher, Dean was taking the women’s clinic (of course) and you got the sheriff’s department about the missing people. 

Honestly, you had the easier job because you had become so used to flirting your way with the donut loving bunch, that they often didn’t even question your fraudulent credentials. Thank goodness Dean wasn’t there because he would have probably punched the poor deputy that was drooling all over himself and made the sexist comment about how a pretty girl like you shouldn’t be working a case alone, which he was more than happy offer his services to. Giving him your best bitch face you gently reminded him you were a federal agent, a complete lie but he didn’t know that. 

The missing people you had come to find out all had two things in common. One, they were complete assholes. Imagine the worst people to have at a BBQ, and that would be them. Racist, narcissistic, sexist, disgusting, greedy pigs. Almost the complete box set for Dante’s seven deadly sins. Second, they all disappeared without any trace while leaving valuable possessions and people behind.

Walking out of the station you wanted to scream as the heels pinched deep into your feet, making walking easily almost impossible as you limped a little to ease the pain. 

“Hey bitch! Need a ride?” 

You turned your head quickly to see who the hell would have called you a bitch only to be met with the smiling firecracker that you had come to know and love through the Winchesters.

“Charlie, I almost shot you,” you smiled as you approached her little yellow car’s driver window. “What are you doing here?”

“Checking out a case,” she retorted. “Guessing you are doing the same.”

“Yeah, so far not a lot to go on,” you rolled your eyes to the sheriff’s department. 

“Well get on in. We can share what we know so far!”

Inviting Charlie to bunk down with you only made sense in your mind, it was nice having another girl around that understood somewhat how much of a pain in the ass boys could be. Dean and Sam had been surprised but thrilled at her appearance when she was the one to open up the door and let them in as you changed out of the tight pencil skirt and opting for your worn out jeans and t-shirt to relax in for the rest of the day. 

“So you are going to join us then,” Dean stated while not allowing for any room for argument to the decision.

“Yeah, I have to hang out with my favorite Sam,” she smirked while giving a side eye to Sammy that was proudly smiling. “Not you, ya big lug. The other Sam. Us girls have to stick together around you two.”

You giggled to yourself in appreciation of the loving but silly nature of Charlie, she was a breath of fresh air when you started to feel like things were going crazy with no way out. Both boys gave a growl as they pretended to be hurt by her words, but they knew she was right. Dean had suggested that you all that you hit up the little tavern down the road for food and drinks since it was already now past a normal persons dinner time and the most that any of you had eaten was a power bar with lots of coffee to drink. Catching up together over a drink with something fattening that would most likely clog your arties sounded like the perfect plan. 

It was rather busy when you all arrived but you found a small booth in the back. Dean and Charlie sat on one side, while you and Sammy sat on the other. After about a 20 minute wait for someone to come by and take your order, you were starting to get more than hungry, you were now hangry. Excusing yourself to find someone capable of taking your orders, you left the three of them to talk amongst themselves.

“I think Red is going to murder someone soon if she doesn’t get fed,” Charlie observed as she watched you scowling at the gossiping staff by the bar. 

“Yeah, this is the wrong time of month to piss her off,” Dean snickered. Charlie raised her eyebrow to him, while mouthing ‘what’. 

“Female thing,” Sammy chimed in. Charlie pushed up her lips and nodded her head, knowing very well what that all entailed. She quietly watched the two boys that she has come to love like brothers watch you to ensure that you had a handle on what was going on, and didn’t need back up. Both of their eyes followed your every move and gesture as you tried so hard not to make the young waitress cry out of nervousness towards your obvious annoyance. 

“So…” Charlie popped her tongue off the roof of her mouth. “Which one of you has tried sleeping with her yet?”

Dean and Sammy shot their heads directly towards her, wide-eyed and frozen like they were deer spotted by headlights. Caught unexpectedly without knowing what to say or do. 

“That’s what I thought,” she snickered. 

You were now walking back with the terrified waitress trailing behind you, right on your heels. She promptly asked everyone what they wanted to eat and drink before running with haste towards the kitchen.

“I guess there is one benefit to the whole monthly visitor thing, you are scary as hell,” Dean chuckled. 

Sammy tilted his head at his brother mouthing “really dude.” Dean just shrugged it off and leaned back into his seat seeing you clearing looking annoyed with Charlie giving him a disapproving look on his side.

“So what do you have on the case so far Charlie?” he spoke up trying to shift the attention away from him. 

Charlie had about the same as all of you, basically everything just occurred overnight with no rhyme, reason, or connection to each other. The boys had checked for sulfur, EMF, and even hex bags at the locations they visited but came up with nothing. It was a perplexing case and you were now more than glad to have the extra pair of eyes on board. 

“Maybe a trickster?” you suggested while finishing off your burger that had come out in a rush. Guess Dean was right, being scary did have its benefits. 

“Does fit the ‘just desserts’ scheme,” Charlie agreed. 

“If it was him, he would have already been messing with us by now…and not in any type of fun way,” Sammy commented nervously while flashbacks of being turned into a car, having his balls crushed, and campaigning an ad for genital herpes ran through his mind. The whole ordeal still haunting him nightly.

“Yeah,” Dean smirked. “By now I’m sure that Red here would be turned into an animated princess with one of us coming to save the day.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” you snapped, giving him a stern look. 

“You know the typical damsel in distress,” he shrugged.

“Is…is that how you see me?” you stammered.

Ever since the boys had found you knocked out by the Demon you had felt like you had to prove to them that you weren’t helpless. That you could take care of yourself. So many times you had noticed that when things started to get real, they would put themselves in between you and the danger like you couldn’t handle it. You could. You weren’t one of those helpless women that they had to save. You were a hunter just like them. You had pretended that you didn’t notice that they had been treating you definitely than anyone else and you were getting tired of pretending that it didn’t bother you. Now Dean’s words proved what you had suspected, they thought you were just another girl who they needed to saved. 

Dean looked at you in confusion as he noticed that your eyes began to welt up. He looked to his brother and Charlie that were equally as perplexed to your reaction.

“No, Red, not at all. It’s just that he likes to... mess with people’s... weaknesses,” he suggested, which only made the tears you were holding back now come flowing down your face.

“So because I’m a girl I’m weak? I can’t take care of myself?” you snapped while getting up from your seat, making all the patrons now turn towards the four of you. “You know what Dean, I can take care of myself and I will.”

You walked right out of the tavern before even giving him a chance to say anything else, the cool night air hitting your hot skin felt wonderful as you took it all in. As you made your way through the parking lot you heard a female voice speak up amongst the parked cars. 

“Men can be such pigs huh? Wouldn’t you love it if they could only see what it was like for once?”

You let out a little laugh and said “yeah” before continuing to the hotel alone. Hopefully a good night’s sleep would calm you down. Maybe even tomorrow you would actually allow yourself to have a real conversation with them about why you had basically acted like a child throwing a tantrum in public. They really didn’t deserve that, but it had been growing on you for so long it was bound to snap out at some point. You now felt guilty for your actions as you slid into the musty bed sheets of the dark hotel room all alone while pondering what on earth you were going to do in the morning.

 __________________________________________________ 

“What the hell was that?” Dean stammered as he watched Samantha leave in a hurry with tears falling down her eyes. Charlie punched him in the arm hard.

“Dude! Super insensitive!” she replied giving him a hard look.

“What?!?” 

“Seriously? Do you two not get it?” she probed while shifting her eyes between them. “Oh my… Okay, let me break this down for you. Sam is a hunter. Sam is also a girl. Girls for fucking ever have been told that they are weak and have to be saved by a big strong man and what do you do? Basically just tell her that her being a girl is a weakness!” 

“Charlie has a point Dean,” Sammy chimed in.

“You are fucking right I do!”

“It’s not like we exactly… treat her equally sometimes,” Sam offered in embarrassment as he realized that more often than not there would be arguments on who would be taking point, them usually against her. 

“Yeah but she likes all that girl stuff too,” Dean added.

“You can want to be a Queen, kick some ass, and save the day too Dean,” Charlie commented.

 Dean and Sam both sat quietly back knowing she was right. 

“Whatever, I need a stronger drink,” Dean grumbled. 

He walked up to the bar and leaned on it while rubbing the scruff on his face in frustration over how the hell he was going to fix everything with Samantha now. A young girl moved next to him while flashing him a flirtatious smile. She was cute, but he wasn’t interested. She moved her face now closer to his, making him raise his eyebrow to her. 

“Hey, there sexy. I’m Sam.”

He tried to hold back the laughter but failed as he turned to walk away. “Sorry darling. Two Sam’s are enough.”

The next morning Dean woke up from his restless night’s sleep before the sun had fully risen. He could hear snores in the bed next to him as he stumbled towards the bathroom to get dressed so he could go and grab coffee, along with Samantha’s favorite creamer. He rubbed his unusually smooth face while he yawned and entered into the ceramic tiled room. His bladder was ready to explode so he positioned himself in front of the toilet to pee while reaching and felt the unexpected. Instead of finding his penis, his hand reached into the slick wet folds of a vagina. In a quick motion he moved to the mirror in front of the sink and his stare met the eyes looking back at him. They were Samantha’s eyes. Holy shit, he was in Samantha’s body! How did this happen? Where was she? He reached up and felt his chest, realizing that it was her soft, yet firm bosom. They were just like he had imagined, but he never imagined that he would be feeling them on himself like this! Crap! He heard movement of a bed in the other room like someone was waking up, he ran to the doorway, using the frame to steady his balance while staring wide-eyed at a waking up Charlie.

“Charlie! I have tits!”

Bitch, Gimmie (You asked for it):  @waywardbaby @snffbeebee @curly-haired-disaster @waywardnerd67 @dean-winchesters-bacon @jaylarkson @ladywinchester1967 @hobby27 

[licentiousladylunafreya-blog]

Trivial Things

Rating: Nsfw

Content: Language, Mild Angst, Smut

Words: 4,000+

Minutes to read: 15-25min

 Entry for:  @ffxvnsfwweek

A/N: DAY FIVE, coming in a little late I’m sorry! Honestly gotta thank Lee Taemin for this finish, if it weren’t for listening to “All About You” by him, I would not have finished this > >...Again, including the links to my previous days.

Day 1: https://licentiousladylunafreya.tumblr.com/post/167384964166/detention

Day 2:https://licentiousladylunafreya.tumblr.com/post/167444372956/indulgence

Day 3: S k i p p e d

Day 4: https://licentiousladylunafreya.tumblr.com/post/167505087786/sweet-lying-behemoth-cont

The four Chocobros weren’t ones for getting involved in domestic spats, or having them…Well….Maybe sometimes. Especially with the groups self-proclaimed married couple. Gladio and Ignis. The two were having a hell of row, and all over the one little thing Gladio had done...Not little to Ignis though...

“C’mon Iggs…You can’t be that upset?” Gladio followed after Ignis, who was storming up the stairs of the inn in Lestallum. Prompto and Noctis bringing up the rear with shitty little sniggles.

“Yes I can- And the least you could do is focus on the task at hand before resorting to your-! Your...!”

“My what?” Gladio challenged.

As Ignis reached the door to their room, and whipped around to look up at Gladio. “Your infidel!”

Gladio scoffed. “My infidel!? I barely spoke to the woman for two minutes?!”

Ignis ranted as he fumbled with the keys to unlock their door. “Yes, while I collected the bounty and we all had injuries that needed tending too ASAP.” He finally got the door open, swinging it open.

“I wasn’t even flirting. She had asked me about our mission!” Gladio argued as he followed Ignis inside.

As Prompto and Noctis went to go inside, Gladio had turned around in time to stop them.

“Hey, maybe you two should wait outside?” He put a hand up, gesturing for them to stop.

“Nooo way I’m missing this.”  Prompto insisted and managed to slip past Gladio. As Gladio went to grab after him, Noctis then slipped past. “You two-!”

‘You two’, were now sitting on the edge of the bed, looking to Ignis who was obviously still fuming, then looked to Gladio like ‘Well?’. Gladio groaned, giving the two of them a slight glare. He didn’t want to argue with Ignis over something so stupid he thought, in front of Noctis and Prompto. He’d just have to suck it up and deal with it. As he looked up from them, Ignis was giving him a very displeased look from within the kitchen.

“Ignis, you’re blowing things way out of proportion.” Gladio paced over into the small kitchen with Ignis.

Ignis remained silent, only rummaging around for ingredients and bowls and whatnot. Slamming a cabinet here and there.

“Ignis will you quit being so stubborn-!” Gladio reached out to grab Ignis by the shoulder and got his hand smacked away.

“I’m not the stubborn one. I’m not the selfish one. What I AM, is ignored.” Ignis said now looking to Gladio, his voice now breaking into a low whisper. “It has been an entire month Gladio and this arguing is all the attention I’ve received from you…Even at camp you haven’t as much as even thrown me a glance or at least asked what I’m preparing…”

Gladio had nothing else to say at the moment. The look in Ignis’ eyes was palpable and he now understood why Ignis got so worked up over him chatting up that girl.

“Now, if you’d excuse me.” He spoke up. “I’ve got lunch to prepare.”

Gladio hadn’t felt this guilty in a long time. He had his reasons for the way he was being, but it wasn’t intentionally to hurt Ignis. He let out a small breath, and turned away, letting the man have his space in the kitchen. He then looked over to Prompto and Noctis who could also feel just how heavy the situation had gotten.

“Hey, uh, Noct?”

“Y-Yeah?”

“Maybe we should take a walk? I mean. I saw some new stands I think, let’s go check them out.””

“Right. And we’re out of…Stuff.”

“Mhm, let’s go.” Prompto said between his teeth now pushing Noctis along to the door. He knew Ignis and Gladio were gonna need a minute or two to sort things out, and he felt like it was best if they did it without an audience.

Gladio watched the two of them leave, waiting a moment before turning back to see Ignis. His brows were furrowed in either concentration or frustration as he added some ingredients to a bowl. As Gladio watched him, he began to think about the last time they were actually alone like this, and it seemed in been forever. But apparently Gladio had had any a opportunity. He could understand Ignis’ dilemma, but it’s not like he was trying to show that girl any more attention than he’d showed Ignis. She was literally cringing about their scars, and Gladio was just teasing her a bit. It must’ve been all the nervous giggling that set Ignis off and made things look bad. He let out a groan, and shuffled over to the kitchen.

“Do you want to talk about it, or keep moping?” Gladio asked as he propped against the doorframe.

“I’m not moping.” Ignis insisted. “I’m quite alright.”

“She was just asking about our scars Ignis.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“And I just made light of the situation and teased her a little.”

“Tsk, a little-…”

“Anything after that, wasn’t anything. It was brief, and I don’t think you should be that upset about it-“

“Where’s my brief moment?” Ignis suddenly interrupted. “Hm? Suddenly you don’t want me upset, well I’ve been upset this entire fucking month, and I missed you. I wanted your attention and when you do show some kind of attention I see you chatting up some girl and flexing your muscles at her…” Ignis says with a swallow, feeling a slight ache in his chest. He took a moment, taking a deep shuddered breath, and continued mixing.

“You missed me…?”

“Well we’re the self-proclaimed married couple, aren’t I allowed to miss my husband, even if he acts like I don’t exis-“

As Ignis had went to rant on, Gladio forced him around so quickly, and pulled him into a deep kiss. Muttering apologies over and over into the kiss. Ignis couldn’t help but return them, but his reciprocation was more heated and hungry. Gladio caught up, and started gliding his tongue into Igni’s mouth, feeling the man now lean his body against his with a soft moan-

“No-“ Ignis suddenly pulled away and darted away from him before he could touch him any further. He was now at the other side of the small kitchen. “Unless you’re going to assist me, get out of the way.”

“Iggs….” Gladio sighed. But seeing how small the kitchen was and how big he was, he could give Ignis little to no room to actually escape again. Saying nothing else, he braced his palms on the counter on either side of Ignis, leaving him trapped against him, and the counter. He noticed the sudden stutter in Ignis’ actions with a bowl he was grabbing, and was glad to see he was making some progress.

“I’m sorry okay?” Gladio nuzzled into the man’s neck, now kissing up to whisper against his ear. “What can I do to make it right, huh?” He nibbled down on his earlobe, giving a small tug. He felt Ignis twitch against him and gave a little hearty chuckle.

“G-Gladio, this space isn’t big enough for all that…”

“No, it’s not…But I’ve been in tighter places.” He teased, Ignis giving a breathy sigh in response. He gave Gladio another opening as he tilted his head to the side, completely abandoning his work with adding contents to the bowl.

Gladio slid the bowl to the side easily without spilling any of its contents, grasped Ignis by his hips as he spun him around to face him once more. He lifted the man up with ease, sitting him on the counter, amused by the surprised looked on his face.

“Wh-what are you-?!”

Before he could finish his sentence, the larger male hushed him with a kiss, rough hands still gripping Ignis’ hips. Gladio gave his hips a slight squeeze, and Ignis reluctantly let out a deep moan in response, before pulling away.

“No. I have to finish lunch before Noctis and Prompto return…And you are in no place to be making such demands may I remind you.” Ignis glared daggers at Gladio, who shot them right back.

“You do realize you’re being jealous over nothing? And I told you why I’ve been withdrawn for the last month. Now I’m trying to make it right and make-up for lost time…”

“You do realize you’re getting in my?” Ignis shot back. “Now let go of m-me…St-stop that…Gladio…”

As he went to protest and attempt to push the man away, strong hands quickly traveled up his body again, thumbs playing under the apron at his nipples through his shirt, and Gladio’s tongue licking at his neck.

“Let me make it up to you Iggy…You know I don’t care about the women here, or anywhere else for that matter. You don’t ever need to get jealous, there’s no competition. Just you.”

“N-Not on the counter….” Ignis muttered.

Gladio pulled away with a hopeful look. “What?”

“I said…” Ignis finally shifted free, enough to pull the apron over his head and toss it aside. “Not on the counter…” He still had a defiant look on his eyes, but Gladio knew just how to fix that. “That’s what the bed is for.”

Without another word, Gladio pulled Ignis into him, and lifted him up off the counter, Ignis instantly gripping onto his shoulders. He watched the smile playing at Gladio’s lips as he carried him over to the bed, still trying to hold his defiant little stare, but his blush and the curious little look in his eyes behind that defiance was evident. Before he even knew it, the two of them hit the bed with a heavy bounce as it creaked loudly. Ignis gave a sharp inhale suddenly feeling the bulge in Gladio’s pants pressed against his own growing erection.

“Well you’re not that mad at me…” Gladio smirked.

Ignis immediately looked away, an evident blush across his face. “It’s only a reaction…”

“Oh really?” Gladio barely grinded down on Ignis, the small of his back arching off the bed for a moment. “Because you’re pretty hard and I barely even touched you.”

“You’re not putting up a very good defense.” Ignis immediately argued, finally glaring back up at Gladio softly. Besides, Ignis had gone a whole month without much needed attention from Gladio, so his body had become a little needy, and may or may not have been aching for something to make him feel…Full.

“Didn’t realize I was on trial, your honor.” Gladio says sarcastically, as he played with buttons on Ignis’ shirt, eventually undoing them. Slowly as he watched Ignis became just a little darker shade of pink over his cheeks.

“Well you are…So I better be convinced.”

“Convinced of what, exactly?”

“Convinced, that you don’t go around flirting with these Lestallum broads.” Ignis spoke absentmindedly. He’d deprive himself of something later for using such language against the hardworking women of Lestallum.

Gladio on the other hand, found it hilarious, his head dipping down a bit as a laugh vibrated through Ignis’ neck, making him tremble.

“Ignis, it’s been just as long for me as it has for you, and the ladies haven’t exactly been on my mind…” Gladio admitted, now sitting back up as he gave Ignis a certain look, hand now stopping to grope over Ignis trapped erection.

Ignis swallowed, forcing back the moan that left him. “Well it doesn’t appear that it’s been me as of late.”

“It has Iggy. You have no idea. We’ve been nothing but injured and exhausted with our missions this past month and not being able to touch you because of it, has been killing me.”

The look on Ignis’ face was now a little more hopeful. Seems Gladio was actually aware of him. But still, it wouldn’t have been the first time that they engaged in rough sex because one or both of them were injured. They took advantage of the cuts and bruises sometimes. Then again, it was nice of Gladio to give him space, but he didn’t have to make it seem like Ignis didn’t exist. As that thought came back across Ignis’ mind, he was feeling disgruntled all over again. But his thoughts were cut short. He hadn’t noticed when, too lost being distracted in his thoughts, but Gladio already had his pants open, and a hand stroking at his now exposed shaft. He gave a sudden gasp, as his hips bucked slightly, only once, into the strong callused hand around him. He knew Gladio wasn’t being rough, yet, but gods the grip was still strong and firm and Ignis realized just how much he really missed those hands on him. Reluctantly, he reached up wrapping his arms around the larger male’s neck, and pulled him down into a deep kiss. Gladio reciprocated passionately, earning a small moan from the man below. There was never a trading of lips, just hot, open mouth kisses. Their tongues would tease at the other every now and then and both of them had Gladio had about reached his point with all these tongue teasing. As Ignis had flicked his tongue over Gladio’s bottom lip, Gladio shoved his tongue into Ignis’ mouth, making him give a startled moan. Gladio hungrily explored his lovers mouth, not really giving Ignis the chance or opportunity to fight back. The strength of the kiss alone was enough to make Ignis tangle his fingers in Gladio’s hair, and arch his back to press himself closer.

After claiming the man’s mouth, he broke away, both of them giving a pant, and moved to his neck, and down straight to his chest. Ignis trembled at the familiar feeling again Gladio’s mouth over his nipples. Ignis closed his eyes, and hands immediately trailed to caress the back of Gladio’s head. He arched his back, pushing up to Gladio for more, and felt him smile against his skin as he sucked with a light tug, pulling back on the bud a little. A soft whimper left Ignis and pushed Gladio’s head down, urging him on to leave more of the lovely bruises elsewhere. Gladio followed, moving down, and taking his time as he left wet kisses, sucking here and there and attacking with sweet little love bites. On his belly button especially, being rewarded with that keen he knew was going to follow.

Gladio looked up to see watch Ignis, and saw that he  was no longer wearing his glasses, and was looking down at him with half-lidded, clouded eyes. He knew that was more than enough approval. Usually by this point, if the glasses stayed on, it was a no-go. But they were off, and the look on Ignis’ face was a needy one. Gladio moved back up quickly, kissing him in a rough frenzy, but Ignis kissed back with just as much passion. He glided his hands over chiseled abs and chest, no to his shoulders where he started shoving off his jacket. Gladio shimmied a little shuffling the jacket down more, now breaking from the kiss for just a second, to throw it aside. No sooner than the jacket had left Gladio’s body, Ignis was pulling him down into another heated kiss. While letting his mouth be claimed again, Ignis trailed his hands down the front of Gladio’s sculpted body, and stopped at the edge of his pants. He fumbled around with the button and zipper, hands bumping around against Gladio’s bulge. He growled, bucking his hips into Ignis, wanting him to quit messing around already, the man under him smirking to himself a bit. But he wanted the same thing too, and unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. He slowly reached into Gladio’s pants, now blushing into the kiss that suddenly turned wet and slow as Gladio let out a small groan feeling Ignis’ hands on him. No matter how intimate they had been, Ignis had always found his cheeks heating up at Gladio’s impressive length. He’d never said too much more to Gladio it than that it was impressive, not wanting to say all the other things that swirled around his head, fearing he’d sound a bit ‘undesirable’.

“Gladio…Off…”Ignis panted in-between their kissing, now nudging at his pants and boxers, pushing them as far down as he could.  

Gladio obliged, lingering with the kiss a moment before pulling away, and sitting up to take off his pants and boxers, kicking them away. Ignis’ cheeks dusted over red as he watched, Gladio’s proud erection sway as he finished undressing. Gladio then smiled up to the blushing man, slowly pulling away his pants and boxers. Ignis shifting his legs around to help.

“Blushing over me again are we?”

“I-It’s just a reaction.” Ignis looked away from him once again.

Gladio just gave a hearty chuckle as he tossed Ignis’ pant aside. “Sorry…Guess it’s all just a reaction?” Gladio teased as he took ahold of Ignis’ thighs, spreading his legs apart.

Ignis was silent, huffing lightly as he still looked away. Honestly Gladio knew he was getting somewhere, but he couldn’t believe that Ignis was still going to try to act like this while they were together. That’s not what he wanted. Yeah, Ignis was reciprocating, but he wanted all of it. Not just some and a huff. He wanted his Ignis that loved him without hesitation.

“Really though, Ignis…I am sorry.”

Ignis acknowledged the sudden tone and would’ve felt bad if he didn’t look back over to Gladio.

“But don’t act like you want me then huff about that woman. I can’t even remember her face and don’t care too.”

Ignis felt a little smile laying at his lips. He pushed himself up, now just a scoot away from straddling Gladio.

“You of all people should know Gladio the reason I’ve acted this way is because I do want you. All of this is mine.” Ignis spoke as his hands glide up  the front of Gladio. “And mine alone. Just you and nothing more, nothing less…With that I’m satisfied.”

“So you forgive me?”

Ignis chuckled, flashing a smirk. “I only said satisfied--…!?”

Ignis suddenly gasped finding himself lifted onto Gladio’s lap, and falling back onto the bed with man on top of him, grinding their erections together.  He failed to bite back an embarrassing moan, and lolled his head to the side as he now panted and sighed out in pleasure. He moved his hips back up against him, wiggling his arms free to wrap them around his neck and engulf him in a quick kiss. Gladio kissed him back, just before pulling away, and quickly moving back down his body with more sloppy kisses, and spreading his thighs apart once more. Ignis slowly curled his fingers into the fabric of the sheets knowing what was about to come next…And sure enough, Gladio’s tongue graced his hole with its presence. Ignis arched up from the bed, letting out a deep groan of pleasure, practically falling back onto the bed with a small whimper. He felt Gladio’s tongue freely just swimming around without hesitation and he couldn’t control the twitches and shivers that erupted through his body because of it. Those, nor the embarrassing sounds he failed to hold in. Not that he really cared. All that mattered is that he was getting much needed attention from his lover. As he closed his eyes to officially get lost in the pleasure of Gladio’s tongue, he pulled away moments after. Ignis’ eyes came back open as he frowned, now looking down to gladio who was climbing back up between his legs. He looked up into GLadio’s eyes, still with the small pout, but knew GLadio knew what he was doing. Them an leaned down, Ignis thinking it was for another kiss, but before their lips could touch, Ignis let out a small strangled moan, tilting his head back into the pillow.

“G…Gladio…Aghn…”

Gladio had slowly started to press himself inside without warning and was steadily moving in deeper. Ignis gritted his teeth together for a moment fighting back the moan he knew for sure would’ve been the most feminine sound he’d made that evening. Gladio knew the sweet moan that he was holding back, and gave a quick thrust, fully sheathing himself, and forced the sweet sound he wanted to hear.

“Don’t hide your voice from me…” Gladio demanded, licking across his neck as he kept he head thrown back into the pillow, nails tearing through the sheets a little at all the clawing and pawing at them he’d been doing already.

Sitting up now in a better position to see Ignis’ face, with his hands braced at either side of his head, he looked down at him. His eyes closed, cheeks flustered, and trying to hide his face and moans into the pillow. Gladio’s eyes never left him as began with slow thrusts and let out soft groans, watching Ignis’ mouth fall open to let out hot moans, his back arching a little with each thrust. Ignis knew he was missing Gladio, but he didn’t realize just how much until now. He moved a hand up to grip his back and hooked a leg around his waist beckoning for more. Gladio dropped down to prop on his elbows, and Ignis now had both his legs wrapped around his waist. Gladio began thrusting into him faster, feeling Ignis’ nails lightly dig into his back and the soft noise from him right in his ear rushed straight to his erection, making him just want to fuck Ignis down into the mattress until he couldn’t take it. His steady pace he’d started slowly starting to turn into rough quick thrusts. Ignis’ grip on him tightened even more and a filthy moan erupted from deep in his throat.

“I-I’ve missed this…” Ignis moaned out, a sharp gasp following as Gladio was near his prostate. “I’ve missed you.” Ignis moaned out purposefully right against his ear. He still knew how to get just what he wanted from Gladio without having to directly ask or tell him…

Gladio let out a lascivious growl into Ignis’ neck, now balling a fist into the sheets as he now hooked his arm around Ignis’ waist, raising his hips a little. And with that little change in position, Gladio’s thrusts were coming right down into his prostate. He instantly came unwound, desperately keening as he threw his head back into the pillow. Everything else melting away as he felt the heat of his climax approaching. Gladio could tell by his reaction and how tight he grew around him that he’d just gotten the side of Ignis he wanted. That part of him that was a wallowing mess that complied with all his feelings.

“Can you …Forgive me?” Gladio panted, grinding against the bundle of nerves.

Ignis let out a porn worthy moan, lolling his head to side against the pillow, a small curse escaping under his breath. He barely heard Gladio, lost ina haze of lust, seeing stars the more Gladio grinded into him.

“Iggy…Say it.” Gladio now gave shallow thrusts into his prostate, each one becoming less and less shallow, using more force to ram into him. “Ignis…” Gladio moaned into his neck, feeling himself coming close.

“I-I…” Ignis couldn’t form the words. He knew what he wanted to say, but the only thing that would come out were groans and high moans and just mixed noises of pleasure.

“Talk to me Ignis…” Gladio’s voice was low and almost in a growl, as he now lifted Ignis’ legs to hoist them over his shoulders.

This only made things worse, Ignis giving out a small cry as he was feeling Gladio thrust right into his prostate with each snap of the hips. All Ignis wanted to do, was yell ‘yes’, when his mouth came open. When Gladio was sending him through those rushes of pleasure, he wasn’t even himself anymore. But he needed to say something or else…He put his arms back around Gladio’s neck, who was still making the man tremble, jerk, an release embarrassing sounds while he abused his prostate.

“I-I…” Iginis cut himself off with another little cry. “I-I forgive you!” His words came out in a desperate moan as he gripped the sheets near his head, other hand now gripping Gladio’s shoulder. “A-And I’m sorry-Ahah~…” Gladio was practically shoving himself down into Ignis with each thrust, grunting with each one. “It was such a trivial th-thing to be-!!!”

Failing in an attempt to speak when he was already about to burst, he cut off his own words with a loud cry as he came. Gladio delivering a few more final rough thrusts before exploding inside him with a low growl, keeping down a moan. Ignis trembled at the sensation of the warm thick fluid invading his insides, and was more than aware of the mess he had made. He still gripped the sheets painfully and panted gutturally with Gladio as he gazed at the ceiling, his vision fading back to him. He swallowed and felt the shift of Gladio’s weight as he slowly pushed himself back up onto his palms to gaze down at him.

“I…Love you.” He panted out, watching the tired smile that formed at Ignis’ lips.

“I know… I lo-“

Knock Knock!

Gladio and Ignis froze.

Mr. Gladio? Ignis? Arou two alright in there?

The voice was obviously that of Talcott’s, and Ignis gasped lightly, Gladio only giving a ‘snrk’, tempted to laugh.

“W-We’re fine!” Ignis yelled over to the door, now watching as the knob twisted. “G-Gladio move-!”

TALCOTT!

NO!

DON’T DO IT!

The stampede and voices of Iris, Prompto and Noctis suddenly came to the rescue.

You dooon’t want to go in there right now buddy!

“U-Uh yeah! Uhm, how about we go-

Ice cream! Let’s go get ice cream! Ice cream sounds GREAT right now! Right Talcott?!

But we just had-

Come on Talcott!

The two were hushed, still listening, and only heard everyone’s footsteps fading away…Ignis let out a giant sigh of relief, Gladio only wilting to laugh into his neck.

“I don’t know how I’d explain to Talcott what’d he seen if he opened this door…” A weak chuckle left Ignis.

“You could always tell him the truth…”

“Please, that’s nowhere near my place…Only his guardian should have such a conversation with him…”

“If you say so.” Gladio pushed himself back up to look back down at Ignis. “So, you were saying something before we were interpreted?”

“Hm? Was I…?” Ignis played, giving Gladio a look.

“Yeah.  You wanna say it now?” Gladio gave a small groan.

“Tsk, I can’t say I remember what it was.”

“Ignis…”

“Was it something important?” Ignis wrapped his arms around Gladio’s neck.

“Very. One of the most important things to me.”

Ignis swallowed at the confession, but smiled charmingly all the same. “I love you, too.”

Gladio smiled back down at Ignis again, and went to lean in for another kiss.

“You guys done yet!?”

“Prompto!?”

The two froze again as Prompto swung the door open on them, Noctis being the one yelling at him now for doing so.

“What, I didn’t hear anything I thought maybe they were- O-Oh!” As Prompto noticed the scene before him, he blushed. Noctis noticed he didn’t hear anything though either, and peeked around into the room.

“…Are you done? ….Can we eat?”

Gladio only glared at the two. “Last I checked, we’re still naked and I’m still insi-“

Ignis suddenly cut Gladio off with a laugh. Mainly a laugh of embarrassment and frustration, but a laugh all the same.

“It is about that time isn’t it? Gladio I should be finishing up…Can you two wait outside just a moment- Prompto!?”

“What- !?”

Prompto had snapped a picture second before Noctis quickly shut the door. They could hear the two bickering outside, Noctis wondering what Prompto could honestly gain from the picture, and he argued that it was ‘romantic’. Ignis and Gladio only sighed. If they didn’t know any better, Prompto and Noctis were more like pesky little children than adults…