#no clue why i always do that. zipper move. when pulling up my shirts. girl STOPPPPPPP be normalllll

[transyonic-iv]

afternoon smoke ⚧️ buy me more weed?

[elentiyawhitethorn]

Sneaking Around | Chapter One

Aelin Ashryver Galathynius walked into the bar, heading over to her group of friends in the corner. Their company was having an office party tonight, and Aedion, Gavriel, Vaughan, and Lysandra were already seated. Aedion was her brother, the others close friends.

“Aelin! Fashionably late as always,” slurred Aedion.

Aelin sat down, rolling her eyes. “I’m three minutes early. Surely you can’t have had that much to drink already?”

“He can, and he has,” said Lysandra. “They got into a drinking contest. Again.”

“Hey, look who’s here. It’s Manon the bitch!” cried Vaughan.

Manon glared at him as she joined the table. “How very kind of you, Vaughan. Glad to see what my friends really think of me.”

“You know you are a bitch, though,” intervened Aelin. “I think, deep down, you took that as a compliment.”

The friends continued their banter as the rest of the group, Fenrys, Connall, and Elide, arrived throughout the next few minutes.

Just then, another person entered the already crowded bar. Rowan. Aelin wasn’t exactly a fan of Rowan Whitethorn, to say the least. He was broody, rude, and... very handsome tonight. He was wearing a plain, button-up shirt and jeans, and he was thoroughly rocking them as he strutted over to join them. Not that that changed her opinion of him.

“Hello everybody.” Rowan took the only open seat left at the table. Right next to her. Oh, this was going to be a pleasant evening. He was the IT manager, techie if you will. With Aelin as the office manager, there were plenty of chances for their tempers to cross paths. The only reason she tolerated (managed not to beat the shit out of) him was because they shared the same friend group. Why, Aelin hadn’t a clue.

The conversation went on, with Aelin adding bits of sharp-witted humor, and Rowan contributing wry observations. He was still getting on her nerves, with his arrogance and condescending nature, but he seemed to be letting go a bit more. He was already on his fourth whiskey and they had hardly been there for half an hour.

Aelin ended up discussing several matters with Rowan, as they were sitting next to each other and the others around them were having their own conversations. While they weren’t exactly getting along, there was no shouting or storming off, so Aelin considered it a success. They weren’t agreeing on anything, though. Rowan mentioned a new employee at the office rubbing him the wrong way, and Aelin immediately defended her, despite considering her extremely obnoxious. She figured he was doing the same thing. This tactic certainly wasn’t making the civility any easier, so Aelin turned to Lysandra and Elide as subtly as she could.

They made fun of Aelin, sipping her tequila of a number she didn’t know. She’d lost count. “It’s free alcohol. What did you expect?” Aelin replied to their comments.

Nearing the end of the party, people had already started leaving, many finding their way into someone else’s bed. Really, you can’t have a respectable office party at a bar. It just doesn’t work that way, Aelin thought.

She was completely drunk at this point, and ready to spend the rest of her Friday night drinking and laughing with her friends. Until she felt a hand on her thigh.

Rowan. He was probably drunk enough to want to touch the nearest woman; Fenrys was on his other side, so Aelin was his only option. As wasted as she was, Aelin didn’t mind it, and continued chatting with the girls.

He seemed to take her lack of objection as confirmation, and began to slide his hand up and down her leg. To her knee, back up. To the top of her thigh, back down. It felt nice. Maybe perfectly sober, Aelin would have rejected his attentions. Okay, definitely. But she wasn’t and it felt good. His hand plucked at the end of her knee-length blue dress.

Aelin jumped at any excuse to wear a dress, and tonight was no exception. She also had on deep-red lipstick and gold dangly earrings. Thinking about it (or as well as she could think in this state), Aelin supposed she looked rather good tonight.

She could hear Rowan talking with Fenrys and Connall, but was making it a point not to look at him. His stroking grew more daring as the minutes passed, his hand going up again, but this time under her dress, on her bare skin.

Despite their teasing, Lysandra and Elide weren’t doing much better than her alcohol-wise. Pausing her own drunken conversation to look around her, Aelin noticed that several of her friends had already left. “I should head out before I have to be carried out of here.” Saying her good nights, Aelin took Rowan’s hand from under her dress and gave it a squeeze, then stood and walked out of the bar. Several moments later, out came Rowan, probably having made a similar excuse.

Aelin was on him before he had a chance to say her name. She grabbed him by the collar, pulling his face to hers, pressing her lips against his in a needy kiss. He backed her against the brick, his hips against hers, hands moving. Dimly she realized this wasn’t the best idea. Aelin pulled back and said, “Anyone could walk out and see us.”

“Do you want to come back to my place?” Rowan asked, hands still roving over her hips.

Aelin only nodded.

Rowan grabbed her hand and half-dragged her to the nearest taxi. Obviously, neither were capable of driving at that moment.

He sat with his arm around her, tense against her body. The poor cab driver probably had a lot of situations like this on Friday nights. At least they weren’t making out or something.

The taxi reached the address Rowan gave him - an apartment building not too far away. Aelin reached for his hand again, letting him lead her in to a set of stairs, up one flight, then down the hall to his door.

Fumbling with his keys, Rowan finally managed to turn the lock and get them inside. After that they didn’t hold back.

Rowan kissed Aelin fiercely, and she let him guide her to his bedroom. She ran her hands over his chest, unbuttoning his shirt. Rowan shrugged it off when she finished, then turned Aelin around to pull down the zipper of her dress as she stepped out of her heels.

Rowan helped her out of the dress, both of them impatient. She wasn’t wearing a bra. Spinning her around again and backing her onto the bed, he paused to admire her.

“Damn, you look good, Aelin.”

She smirked up at him. “I know.” Then she grabbed his belt and unlatched it.

Rowan reached for Aelin’s hand. “Not so fast, princess.”

He grasped her breast, running his thumb over her nipple. She moaned in response. Rowan gave a self-satisfied smile and continued his ministrations.

Then, satisfied with his work, he kneeled before her. Pulling her lace panties down her legs and tossing them to the floor, he placed her legs on either shoulder. Rowan ran his tongue over Aelin’s center, making her moan loudly.

“Enough teasing,” Aelin gasped out.

She could feel him smile against her. Rowan stuck a finger inside of her, then another. He continued pleasuring her like this until she came.

Then, he stood up and tugged down his pants.

Aelin almost gasped at the sight of him. She pulled him onto the bed on top of her, lying back. The she ground her hips against his. He groaned.

“Oh, fuck, Aelin,” he got out. Then he remembered to get up and grab a condom from somewhere. She sighed at the loss of contact, but soon enough he was standing over her, then crawling onto the bed.

He entered her slowly and she gasped and held back another moan. Once she adjusted, Rowan began thrusting in and out of her, making them both utter each other’s names and groan in unison.

They continued like this for some time, and it was only after, lying naked next to him, that Aelin thought, What the hell did I just do? Then she fell asleep.

[millers-planet]

Makeshift pt 2 - Poe Dameron x F!Reader

Storyline: Parties with a dozen is sometimes less preferable than “parties” with two (set in between ep vii and iv)

Warnings: 2k words of smut, oral (both receiving), teasing, a lil bit of ass slapping, and like an ounce of face-fucking undertones, kind of pet names?????

Pairing: Poe Dameron x F!RebelPilot!Reader (no pronoun usage)

POV: Reader

part one

We all new this new base on Yavin 4 wouldn’t last long, which is why Poe told me to keep our stuff in boxes rather than unpack. Our multi-room living space was now demoted (like Poe’s rank) to a smaller, tent-like space, which was now just a few drawers and a bed. I was content with this, because the only think I needed in a room was Poe.

“Knock knock,” Poe’s fingers glided across the fabric, “or, I guess tap tap?” He made me giggle, grabbing my hips and turning me around to kiss him. I could feel his antsy hands slowly moving lower, “we never finished what we started on the ship back there, on our little makeshift date.”

I pushed his hands up more, onto my hips versus my ass. “These are not walls, Poe, this is fabric. While I am always down to try new things,” he smirked at me, “this is not one of them. We have been interrupted so much lately and I don’t want to risk anything.”

He broke eye contact and I saw his face go from ‘how do I find a place to fuck my girlfriend without people finding out?’ to: ‘I know a place where I can fuck my girlfriend without anyone finding out. “I got something figured out, trust me, you might hate it or you might love it, no in between.” He planted a small kiss to my forehead and walked away, “meet me back here at sunset.” 

I’ve been with Poe long enough to decipher whatever his plan or idea is, before he can even get the words out. I know what each eyebrow wiggle of his means, but for some reason, I have no clue what he’s getting me into today. What is he going to do?

I waited on the Millennium Falcon for some time, just playing Dejarik with C3PO, beating the droid every once in awhile “Hey!” I looked up and my face dropped, “I told you to meet me back at the tent at sunset what happened?”

“Oh, Poe, I’m so sorry, I lost track of time playing this game with 3PO. I probably ruined whatever you had in mind, I’m sorry.” I put my face in my hands, utterly disappointed in myself for being so careless. He asked me to do one thing, how incompetent could I possibly be?

Poe crouched down to my height and pulled my face away from my hands, “Y/N, this is where I was gonna bring you anyway. I spent the rest of the day catching up with the General to see if we were making any battle plans, or if the Falcon is in use, which it isn’t...” his voice dragged on, prolonging eye contact with me in the seductive manner. 

The dots finally connected in my mind and my mouth dropped, “you want to?” He nodded. “In here?” He nodded again. I looked behind me, seeing if 3PO was still there, Poe probably shewed him out while I wasn’t looking. “What if Rey wants to go check on something... or someone wants to use the ship?” 

“Rey is training nonstop, Finn has been making some time for Rose, and Chewy has nothing to do,” Poe began rubbing his thumb on my palm, making eye contact again. “This is a fool-proof plan, you know I can be smart when I choose to be.”

I leaned in, inches from his face, “and it isn’t very often.” I closed the gap and kissed him gently, one of his rough hands grazing the back of my soft neck, sending chills down my spine. “If you think we’ll be fine, then sure, Poe.”

“Yes?” He asked.

“Yes.”

The biggest fucking smirk spread across his face, putting his lips to mine and standing up. He grabbed my hips and hoisted me around his waist, my legs wrapping around him, my arms going around his neck. He carried me to what seemed like a backroom, almost a medical room, on the Falcon, closing the door behind us. Gently he sat me down on the edge of the bed, getting back down on his knees, in between my legs. I knew exactly where this was going, the anticipation growing in me, making heat swell in the middle of my thighs.

With his mouth never leaving mine, the soft kisses never getting rough, just quicker, he untucked my shirt. Placing his warm hands and fingers on my torso, thumbs rubbing my waistline in between my pants. I gave him the ‘go ahead’ by solely pulling out my excess belt strap, leaving him to do the rest. Slowly, just enough to tease, he used two hands to undo my belt, fingertips always grazing my skin whenever possible. Poe undid the button to pants, placing his four finger on both of his hands in the waist of my pants, before I stopped him.

I placed a hand on his chest and pushed him back, “don’t you think the places should be reversed, I mean, we are still celebrating that dreadnaught victory, right?”

He smiled, “it was your victory just as much as it was mine.” Poe put a hand on my shoulder and pushed me back, my elbows on the bed and back just hardly touching the wall. He pulled off my pants and threw them across the room, making me laugh just a tiny bit. To build me up more, he planted kisses from the middle of my inner thigh, up to the center of my body, skipping over it, and going down my thigh. I whined quietly at the missed spot, making him look up to me and wink.

His mouth made contact with my clit, kissing it and sucking on it. He put his hands on either side of my thighs, gripping them and pushing them apart just a little bit more. Poe’s tongue lapped circled on my nub, flicking it every few seconds, making my breath catch in my throat each time. Poe had a rhythm, just one I hadn’t caught onto yet, which was good. This meant that I never knew what was gonna come next, making it remind me of our first time over and over again.

Caught in the flashback, I didn’t even notice his finger teasing my entrance before it was put inside of me. I gasped at the sensation and arched my back slightly, I could feel Poe’s smile grow. His tongue slowly added more pressure with each thrust and curl of his middle finger inside of me. The calloused finger just glided across my sweet spot, causing me to muffle a cry, “right there, oh my god, right there.”

“What do we say?” Poe stopped every movement, pulling his mouth off of me and freezing his finger knuckle-deep in me.

“Damnit, Poe,” I whined, bucking my hips slightly at the lost contact.

He tapped my ass, making me wince, not in pain, just from being caught off-guard. “What happened to manners, Y/N?”

I sucked in a breath of air, “please, Poe.” With that, he began again. His lips returned to my hot nerves and pulled his finger out, glazing over the sweet-spot once more. I dropped my head and gripped my shirt, overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure he was giving me. Just as I thought this, he put his index finger in with the next pump and curl of his middle. I melted like putty, my elbows dropped out on me, making me now flat on the bed with my ass almost entirely hanging off.

“That’s my girl,” his breath was cold, if anything, compared to my hot core. The small exhale from his nose caught me off, making my thigh twitch. With each thrust of finger and suck of his mouth, I became even more wound up. His tongue paused for a microsecond, just as he put my leg over his shoulder, opposite of the hand that inside of me. “C’mon, baby, cum for me.” His fingers pumped faster, the curls dragging out more, and the circles matching the same rhythm and intensity.

“Poe,” I cried out, my back arching and abdomen felt like it was twisting up, about to burst. His free hand slapped my ass and grabbed it, making me stifle a cry and bite my lip. My thighs shake as everything began to unwind. My walls tightened around his fingers and he slowed down his movement, helping me ride out my wave of pleasure.

As I caught my breath, Poe stood up, making the tent in his pants very obvious. I sat up and took his finger in my mouth as he placed them in there, making me cleaning them up and taste myself. He pulled his fingers out, a small pop filling the empty yet heavy air as the pressure broke. His lips met mine, the kiss was slow and meaningful, I stood up and put him where I was without breaking it. 

Only when I sat down did I finally break it, getting down on my knees and undoing his pants the same way he did mine, but slower, payback for what he did to me a few minutes ago. When I finally undid the zipper and button, he lifted his hips up a little bit to help me slid his pants and underwear down, his erection springing up.

Precum came out from the top, taking my thumb I spread it around before placing him into my mouth, slowly taking him in to give jaw time to adjust. I couldn’t the entirety of him me, because if I did, I’d probably choke. Poe gathered most of my hair into one of his hands and place it on the back of my head, just a few strands hanging out. His hand wasn’t forceful, just resting there, as is face was pointed towards me, watching me try to take him all in.

I lifted my head up a little bit, going up and down, slowly adding speed. I placed one hand on his thighs and the other at the end of his length where I couldn’t get in, pumping it with the speed of my mouth. As I moved my tongue around slightly in my mouth, low grunts came from the bottom of his throat, his fingers flinching as I went on, eventual moans coming out of him, “Y/N, fuck. Yeah, use your pretty little mouth just like that.”

I could tell he sensed that I was about to do the same thing as he did to me, but before I could lift my face up, he pushed me back down, which was sudden and nearly made me choke... though this isn’t the first time. As Poe got closer, he began to buck his hips and thrust into me, basically fucking my face, which I was fine with. I bobbed my head to match with his speed and gripped him just a little bit tighter until his hand instinctively forced me down to take the full length of him in. 

My nose touched his abdomen as his hand wouldn’t let up, him spewing his load into the back of my throat, forcing me to swallow so I wouldn’t choke. Tears went down my face as he finally let me back up, making me cough and wipe my mouth. Poe stood up and pulled up his pants, but didn’t buckle them or anything. He pulled me up and kissed me, passionately, the kiss deep and long. I pushed him back down onto the bed playfully and laid down next to him, pressing my bare ass against his pants. “I love you,” I said softly.

“I love you, too.” He cleared his throat and rubbed circles into my shoulder, “y’know no one has said anything to us yet, so.. if you want we could...” Before he could finished his sentence, I straddled him, looking at him down. “Yes?” He asked, the same tone from earlier.

“Yes.”

“Yes,” he flipped his over, putting me beneath him and making me laugh at the sudden change in places.

tags: @blondekel77 @mysticdeerpolice​ @gabile18 

join the tag list!

[mangobilorian]

Desert | (mature) iv

Pairing: The Mandalorian x Reader

Words: 6615

read chapters one, two, three 

check out my AO3 here 

You’re sweating. Which shouldn’t be concerning, but space is cold. The Razor Crest becomes especially cold, the metal walls cool to the touch. You move a bit, and find that you’re trapped under a heavy arm. Mando. With a grunt, you try to wiggle out of his grasp, but he only pulls you tighter to his chest. 

“Where are you going?” His voice is… so attractive like this. Deep, raspy, unfiltered.  

“You’re heavy,” you say, still trying to free yourself. “Why aren’t you flying? Did we land?” Mando groans. 

“Yeah. We’re on Tatooine already.” Oh. That’s why you’re sweating. Of course, the extremely hot bounty hunter contributed most of the heat, but it’s usually not this warm in the Crest. 

“How long-” Mando cuts you off by loosening his hold, only to roll over and brace himself on top of you. He supports the majority of his own weight, but your chests still touch.  

Mando leans over and presses a kiss to your lips and you reciprocate with fervor. You feel a hand caress your sides, drawing slow circles across your waist. 

“You up for another round?” The idea is arousing, but… no. 

“I’m too sore,” you pout even though he can’t see. Already, the ache between your legs is noticeable and annoying enough that you don’t want to worsen it. When Mando said that Tatooine wasn’t far, it was an understatement. The trip took about three and a half days. Most of which was spent underneath (and sometimes on top) of Mando, learning about how your bodies worked together and figuring out what you liked. It also meant that while your experience increased tenfold, you were now extremely sore and needed a little break. 

Mando sighs disappointedly and kisses you again. It’s comforting to have his body pressed against yours, just kissing slowly and languidly like you’re two people in the galaxy who like each other.

Sadly, all good things must come to an end. Mando pushes off from you, and gets off the bed. You hear the clang of clothes and metal. You close your eyes again, content to stay on the verge of sleep. With Mando gone, the oppressive heat from before lessens, and you let the relief wash over you. The lulling pull of sleep sings at you, and you’re tempted to accept. 

Except the lights in the Razor Crest turn on, and your sleep is shattered. Mando steps into view, his underclothes and helmet on, but nothing else. He stares at you, and you realize that you’re still naked. You fumble to cover yourself—a useless endeavor—when he turns around to give you some privacy. 

“I’m heading out soon. Want to come?” What? Mando never asks you to tag along with him, always claiming that it’s too dangerous. And it is dangerous. Tatooine is in Hutt space, and for him to invite you along is suspicious. However, the idea of seeing another planet is alluring. You realize that Tatooine would be the second planet you’ve ever been on, another step into finding out about your brother. And while the odds are slim that you’ll get any clue at all, you have a good feeling about the whole trip. 

“I asked because you had cabin fever. Now come on,” he gestures in mock irritation, not waiting for a reply. You smile and reach for some clothes. 

*****

Tatooine is a brutal place. Sand gets everywhere—in your hair, your clothes, even in your eyes. You have to pull the top of your shirt over your lips to stop sand from entering your mouth and nose too. For the first time, you envy the Mandalorian. His helmet protects him from the slap of sand that rides the winds. However, wearing all that armor in the heat evens it out. He’s probably baking underneath.  

Mos Eisley is both exactly the same and completely different from your home city. The familiar feeling of crime and villainy permeates the air, and there’s a buzzing tension in your bones. Call it nerves or excitement or maybe fear, but you feel different. Like something big is about to happen or the status quo will snap and the galaxy will be upturned. The first time you had this feeling, you received news of your brother’s death. The second time, the Empire collapsed.

Upon arriving at the spaceport, rows of bloody Stormtrooper helmets impaled on sticks greet you. The visceral sight reminds you, for a brief second, that violence and bloodshed are very real in the galaxy, and they’re very real on Tatooine. If you pay attention, you notice the small collars around young women, the scarred faces of old men. Slaves, you realize. Tatooine still had slaves— all Hutt planets did. Of all the planets Mando had to drag you to, did it really have to be this?

You enter a cantina, and Mando ushers you into a booth. He talks to the bartender for a little bit, probably gathering some information. The place reminds you of your parents’ bar, much dirtier and cheaper but the concept stands. If you squint, you can see hands ready on blasters, women whispering in men’s ears. Mando looks like he belongs, his very stance screaming confidence and threat. Everyone parts for him, fear evident in their eyes, and you realize that this is the first time you’ve seen him working. Granted, your first interaction involved spilling information about Ras Drun, but the Mando then is different from the Mando now. At least you think so. 

The band plays some jaunty tune, one you haven’t heard since you were young. People chatter about, already drunk despite it being midday. The air smells musty and feels slightly sticky. But right in the midst of it all, you can feel the stringy tension of anticipation. 

Mando slides in next to you with a drink in hand. He pushes it over, and you glance at it. It’s some orange drink— bubbly and cold. Hesitantly, you bring the glass to your lips. You try not to cringe, but… it tastes awful. Bitter and salty at the same time. It tasted like something pissed in your mouth. At least it’s cold. 

“How much did this even cost?” You sputter, pushing the drink away. Mando chuckles. “Please tell me it wasn’t more than three credits?” Paying any money at all for the drink seems like a bad idea. 

“Imperial credits don’t work here. Besides, it’s cold. Enjoy it.” He grabs the glass and sets it directly in front of you. You give him the biggest pout you can muster and take another sip, wincing the whole time. If you ignore the taste, you can enjoy the cooling, refreshing effect. Except the taste can not be ignored, so you were stuck with a piss drink. Despite the atrocious taste, part of you relishes in the fact that Mando bought the drink for you. 

“Thank you,” you say, wishing you had shown some gratitude before you insulted his gift. The bounty hunter simply snorts, the sound distorted and tinny, looking away to observe the busy cantina. “What about you? Are you gonna get something?” 

“Helmet,” he says, and points at his head. Oh. Right… 

Your face grows even hotter, and a traitorous bead of sweat slides down your spine. You laugh off your mistake, and Mando places an arm around your shoulder, helmet tilted away from you. The weight and added heat of his body would be enough for you to complain, but you don’t. You… kind of like it. It feels comfortable to be like this— pressed against the bounty hunter’s side, protected by the most dangerous man in the cantina. He looks so intimidating and strong that it hurts your chest. You decide to pity his enemies; you can’t imagine having to face him on a hunt. 

Without any words, you survive another sip of the disgusting drink and press further into Mando. He jolts for a brief second and tightens his grip around you. A flicker of confidence surges through you, and you place a hand on his armor-plated thigh. He tenses under your touch, a small sound of surprise filtering through his helmet. 

Emboldened, you drag your hand upwards— to the space above the armor plate where thick fabric is the only thing between you and the bounty hunter. Just as you touch him, Mando shoots out and grabs your hand. 

“What are you doing?” You turn your head away from Mando and towards the wall. His fingers still grip your wrist, but he lets go when you don’t respond. Once your hand returns to its initial position, you squeeze gently. 

The strong muscle is still tense, and you don’t think anything you do will make him relax. Slowly, you curve your hands inwards, toward the apex of his thighs. You see Mando raise a hand, preparing to stop you, but he doesn’t.

It’s exciting, you think, as you edge closer to the fabric covering Mando’s cock. The idea of touching him, stroking him in a place as public and dirty as a Tatooine cantina should be embarrassing and disturbing. But it’s not. The idea excites you very much, and it probably excites Mando too if his lack of complaint is anything to go by. You wonder what he would do if you slip underneath the table. Would he stop you then? Or would he tangle his gloved fingers in your hair and watch as you graze a tongue over his head and suck his length into your mouth? 

For now, you settle with gentle touches. Mando doesn’t move, even when you squeeze a little bit. His cock hardens under your touch, and he drops his arm around your shoulders to nestle around your waist, gloved fingers tracing circles and random shapes. 

This feels right, you realize. As dirty as it is—really, you would never entertain the idea of giving Mando a handjob in a crowded cantina— you enjoy the ordeal, the teasing. You apply harder pressure on his cock, not enough to hurt but enough to show that you were eager. It’s a Mando thing, you decide. He’s the reason you’re acting so different from the girl he found a month ago. 

You sneak a look at the bounty hunter, fingers already reaching for his zipper. Your hand touches metal, and you’re ready to pull down. But something catches your eye, and you look past Mando. There, sitting in a booth on the opposite side of the cantina, is a man. He’s handsome in a dark, rugged way, probably a local. And he’s staring at you with open recognition, and you shiver despite the heat. 

You take your hand away, deciding to look elsewhere and rub your arms for some warmth. Mando jostles around and looks to where you were staring at moments ago. You expect to see the man sitting there and hope his gaze is somewhere else. But he’s gone. As if he was a figment of your imagination. 

“What’s wrong?” Mando asks, squeezing your waist. “Everything all right?” You nod, eyes transfixed on the now-empty booth. The drive to pleasure Mando is completely gone now as well as your budding arousal, and you hope he isn’t too put off by being teased. Thankfully, Mando takes your silence and doesn’t push. 

Something in your gut tells you to move. Tells you that the anticipation in the air is so close to reaching a conclusion. You take one last sip of the drink and shimmy away from Mando. 

“Going to the ‘fresher,” you say, as normally as you can. Mando nods and gestures at the refresher’s direction. He starts to step out of the booth, but you stop him. With careful movements, you manage to squeeze between Mando and the table. After one last look at his helmet, you head to the ‘fresher. 

It’s down some dark hallway, illuminated by one flickering light source embedded into the wall. You want to run away and go back to Mando, but you need to figure something out. You need answers. 

“I can’t believe you’re here.”

You whip around and see the man from earlier. He’s older than you by a few years probably, but he would still be considered young. Yet he looks like someone who suffered through war and other tragedies. You should be scared, you think. You’re a girl by herself and he’s an older man yet… 

“Who are you?” He shakes his head, lips set in a grim line. 

“A friend of a friend. I… I never would’ve expected to see you here.” You frown. Who is this man? Scared or not, you’re creeped out by the fact that he knows you. 

“What do you mean?” He sighs, and walks forward. You realize that he’s been walking ahead the whole time, and your back almost touches the back wall. He looks dazed, staring in your direction but not exactly at you. “Please. I don’t know who you are.” 

Over his shoulder, you see Mando’s looming silhouette. He storms over and grabs the man by the back of his shirt, a blaster pressed to his head. 

“Who are you?” Mando growls. The sheer aggression makes you back further into the wall. You have to remind yourself that Mando is not here to hurt you. He’s here for-

“Wait! Mando, don’t-” But the bounty hunter doesn’t listen, and he slams the man into the wall. Before Mando can do anymore harm, the man gasps, forced out of his earlier daze. 

“I knew your brother!” He says, and everything stills. The air crackles like static, and the string of anticipation snaps with fervor. At your paralyzed state, Mando releases the man who sags against the wall. “He is- was a good friend of mine. I know who you are because he showed me holos of you. I never thought I’d see you. H-he always talked about you. He loved you very much. He was my best friend,” the man blabbers. The words wash over you. He knew your brother. He knew your brother.

“Were you there? When he died?” The man stops talking and looks at you with a certain kind of heavy sadness. 

“Yes,” he whispers. “I was there when the Empire shot down your brother. He sacrificed many things for the Rebel Alliance.” Your brother… was a rebel? The Empire killed him? No, that’s not possible. He was just a simple pilot who traveled for fun or carried cargo sometimes. He wasn’t a rebel. 

But he was, a traitorous voice whispers. And this man knew him.  

*****

When the man, Crix Kilis, brought you and Mando to his house, you didn’t expect it to be a farm. A moisture farm actually. The idea boggled you for a bit—you’ve never thought about planets where people had to harvest water from the air. The farm itself is quite small, with architecture you’ve never seen before. 

The ride to his farm was uneventful. Mando had glared at Crix when he suggested going to his place and even dragged you aside for a moment. 

“You really trust this guy?” 

“He knew my brother. Our meeting wasn’t a coincidence.” He grumbled something that you couldn’t hear, but you weren’t really paying attention. Most of your mind was set on the fact that you finally had a clue to your brother’s life. Granted, you weren’t searching very hard. You thought you’d know how to fly and be out of Mandos’s care before you would start searching. And on your first stop, you met Crix. Maybe it’s a coincidence, maybe the galaxy is being weird. 

Crix offered for you a ride on his speeder bike, but Mando refused and rented one for the both of you instead. The rebel shrugged and carried on. The trip was spent in silence, Mando driving the speeder right behind Crix. The rational part of your brain told you to be more cautious. But your brain was a little too frazzled to be thinking rationally. 

“Here, sit down. You want some tea?” You nod, and Crix rifles through a cabinet. Mando sits next to you, legs spread wide, one arm over your shoulder. He doesn’t look at you, electing to observe the small house instead. As he watches Crix, you watch him. Mando’s been tense since Crix arrived in your life. Of course, he’s a bounty hunter; it’s part of the job to be suspicious. But he keeps touching you, on your shoulders, back, waist. You don’t mind. It feels good to have his attention on you. A small part of you considers that he’s being protective. After all, this is the first time you’ve been off the Crest in weeks, and you suddenly meet your brother’s rebel friend? But no, you’re not important enough to him for him to protect. Right?  

Crix sets the tea on the table, and you take a sip. You expected something hot, so when the cold liquid touches your lips, you almost choke. 

“What did you do?” Mando growls, and Crix backs up. The hand on you tightens, and you wave the question away. 

“It’s fine. I thought the tea would be hot, not cold.” His helmet turns to you then to the drink. 

“She’s right. Why have hot drinks on a desert planet?” Mando relents and slowly relaxes his hold, but the tension doesn’t fade all the way. You hear a hiss from outside, and Crix looks up in mild alarm. He gestures for you to relax; it’s just a piece of farming equipment that got loose. He exits the house with a bag of tools in hand. 

You and Mando sit quietly, and you sometimes take sips of the cold tea. It’s refreshing and a welcome upgrade from the nasty orange drink in the cantina. Sighing, you lean your head to rest on Mando’s shoulder. Your cheek grazes his pauldron, but the majority of your face nestles into the crook of his neck. He jolts at the contact then reigns you closer. The position is slightly uncomfortable since your head is pressed into his neck. He’s in full armor and wearing heavy fabric and his body heat alone makes you sweat. But he warms you up in another way—in a cheesy, jittery, totally ridiculous way. 

“Do you feel… safe here?” You burrow deeper into his embrace. 

“Yeah. I had this feeling earlier that something big was gonna happen. And it did.” It’s comforting to have your instincts be right. You don’t know what you’d do if you never got answers for your strange feeling. 

“Doesn’t mean it’s a good thing.” You hum in response and trace a gentle circle into the armorless part of Mando’s thigh. If Crix hadn’t been watching, how far would you have gone with Mando in the cantina? Surely, you wouldn’t have actually given him a handjob or blowjob right? The hornier, dirtier part of you disagrees. And Mando, for all his conservative clothes, would enjoy your boldness. Did enjoy your boldness. 

“I have to go soon.” You break away from his hold to peer into his visor. “I came here for a bounty.” Right. You forgot you’re on Tatooine because it was Mando’s choice and not because of fate. 

“So you want me to go back to the Crest?” He sighs, and you can feel the movement through the armor. 

“If you want to, then yes. If you feel safe here, then you can stay too.” You try to reply but he cuts you off. “Look, I don’t like the guy. But if he knows your brother, then you deserve to talk to him.” He turns away from you, but you reach a hand out to stop him.

“Thank you,” you say. “I think I’ll stay then. When will you be back?” He shrugs. 

“Once I get the bounty. Tell the guy that I can pay him for his services.” 

“That won’t be necessary,” Crix says from the doorway. There’s a strange look on his face, and you realize the position you’re in. You clear your throat and separate a bit, but Mando doesn’t bother to move.

“She’s my best friend’s sister,” he addresses Mando. “And you are here as a guest,” he nods at you. “I’ll be back in a few,” he says heading out the way he came.

“When are you leaving?” 

“Now.” Oh. All right.. You both stand up, and you take a moment to register just how big he is. In the dark, you can map out every muscle, every scar, every imperfection through touch alone. But with the searing Tatooine suns, you wonder if you even know him. If you’ll ever know him. That won’t stop your feelings though, however foolish they might be. 

You expect him to walk out right away, but he pauses and lays a hand on your shoulder. You want him to hug you. You want him to hold you tight and whisper sweet words in your ear. 

But he doesn’t hug you or whisper anything. He simply rubs your shoulder. It should be comforting. Instead, it’s a reminder of how close you can be to him, but he’ll always put himself farther away. 

“Stay safe,” you say, wishing one last time for him to hug you. He gives you a single nod, releases your shoulder, and heads out. You watch his back disappear through the door and hear the gentle roar of a speeder. A minute later, Crix enters with his tools. 

“Hungry?” 

“Yeah,” you say, eyes still trained on the door. 

*****

Tatooine has beautiful sunsets. The suns cast a certain glow the neon signs on your home planet could never hope to achieve. Crix sits next to you, hands propping him upright. With an almost empty glass of cold tea in hand (your third cup since arriving), you let yourself relax. You didn’t think that being off the Crest would make a difference, but you definitely feel better. The atmosphere of relaxation does wonders for physical and mental health, after all. 

“Tell me about my brother,” you say, breaking the silence. Crix releases a wistful sigh, still staring ahead.

“He was amazing. A pretty darn good pilot too. He was so good that Luke Skywalker complimented him once.” He glances at you, but your lack of response at the name makes him frown. “You don’t know Luke Skywalker?” You shake your head. Why would you? Your planet wasn’t too affected by the Empire, so there was no difference when it fell. What’s one rebel to you? 

“Skywalker is the pilot who brought down the first Death Star. He’s actually the best pilot in the rebellion, maybe the galaxy,” he chuckles. “There were also rumors that he was a Jedi.” He whispers the last word, still waiting for some sort of reaction. You give him none.

“Seriously? You don’t know anything?” You shrug.

“This is the first time I’ve ever been off planet. What is a… Jedi?” Crix moves a bit, and settles into a more comfortable position. 

“Before the Empire, the Jedi were the peacekeepers of the Republic. The Empire purged all Jedi when it came to power. It’s rumoured that Skywalker is a Jedi because he’s so amazing. The things he does, the things I’ve seen him do… are nothing short of miracles. Even if he’s not a Jedi, it’s poetic. A Jedi restoring the Republic and ending the Empire’s oppression. Now that’s a good campaign,” he smiles softly. Right. Like any of those words meant anything to you. You barely register what he said. 

“What do Jedi do exactly?” You ask for the sake of it. In actuality, you want to get away from the off-topic situation and back to your brother, but Crix seems too appalled at your lack of knowledge. 

“They can move stuff with their mind, plant suggestions in people’s heads, and use lightsabers.” It sounds like a whole bunch of magic. “At least, that’s what it said in the secret volumes at the Great Library of Alderaan,” he trails off, glancing away from you.   

“You’re from Alderaan?” You’d heard the news years ago. The whole tavern had watched the news show Alderaan’s destruction. All channels coming from Alderaan ended, no evidence left behind except for space debris. An entire planet wiped from existence.

“Yeah,” he smiles bitterly. “That’s where I met your brother actually. Seven years ago.” You straighten. “He really was a simple cargo pilot. I was a lousy rebel pilot in disguise. We became friends, and he grew more interested in the Alliance. A month after meeting him, he pledged allegiance to the cause in the backroom of a bar.” 

“My brother died seven years ago. You said the Empire killed him.” None of this makes sense. He must have a rebel for longer than that. You remember the news reaching your family. You remember the little slip of paper saying that your brother died. 

“No he didn’t.” You also remember that there was never a body. The small hope of him being alive always lingered. If there was no body, there was no proof. You always imagined finding him, happy and whole, living on some nice, temperate planet. Maybe that could still happen. But if Crix is here and your brothers isn’t then- 

“So he’s alive?” Crix turns and takes your hand in his. The gentle squeeze tells everything.

“I’m sorry. He died defending Beta Group. He- do you want to know the story?” You nod. Your chest hurt like battery fuel on fire. Your tiny hope crushed before it could grow any further. “We were in the Beta Group under Commander Lajaie. The ships were in the Mako-Ta Space Docks. I remember it like yesterday,” he chuckles without humor. “The ships failed when we tried to enter hyperspace, and Vader arrived with the Death Squadron.” He glances at you, but you look away, staring into the bleeding suns. “The Commander told us to go to the escape pods, but Vader went to attack those first. Your brother, against orders, led enough of Vader’s fighters away from the escape pods. He saved many lives, sacrificing himself in the process.”  

“When?” 

“Three years ago after the Battle of Yavin.” 

Everything stops. The slight wind, the hot sand, everything. You thought he was dead for seven years. You lived with the grief of losing your best friend, your confidant. You cried for so many nights, aching for him back. You had centered so much of your kriffing identity around your brother that- 

“He didn’t want to endanger you.” You jerk your head to Crix. “If the Empire knew he was a rebel, they might go after his family too. It’s happened before. Better to pretend that he’s dead than risk your life. I faked my death too.” You don’t understand. The Empire never affected your life very much. Why would your brother even join the rebellion? Why? His life, your life, your parents’ lives: the Empire never mattered as long as you had each other. As if he can see the questions on your face, Crix speaks up. 

“He believed in the cause. In the Republic. In democracy.” 

“Fuck democracy,” you seethe. He says your name, but you yank your hand away from his. “Your damn democracy is the reason my brother died! Fuck the rebellion, fuck Skywalker, and fuck you. You probably didn’t even care-”

“You don’t know me,” he says calmly. But you don’t listen. You don’t want to listen. “He was my best friend. He was there when I realized the Death Star vaporized my planet,” he continues and you stay quiet, heart still fuming. “I was there when he talked about his family, about you. He loved you. And I loved him,” he says. You freeze and he looks at you with such raw, vulnerable eyes. 

“Were you…”

“Yes. We were lovers,” he whispers. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too.” You try to search for something to say, anything to say. But the words die on your tongue and you reach for his hand. So much grief to process in so little time. 

“I was a scholar on Alderaan,” Crix says after minutes of silence. “The Empire destroyed most texts about Jedi but not all. They gave me hope to join the Alliance. I never thought I’d be a pilot. I wanted to help in other ways, but they needed more pilots, even bad ones. I considered dropping out. But your brother convinced me to stay in the same way I convinced him to join.” 

“Why Tatooine?” 

“I had a feeling. Besides, Luke and his father, Anakin, were from here. If this planet can produce two heroes, why not settle here? Of course, slavery and Hutts aren’t very good, but… I had a feeling. Maybe the Force knew I’d meet you,” he shrugs. After a few beats of silence, he stands up and brushes the sand off his pants, hand still in yours. “Let’s get some food then sleep.” 

“Thank you,” you squeeze his hand, “for everything.”

*****

After eating some classic bantha steak for dinner and drinking it down with blue milk (an odd but tasty treat), you settle down on the couch with Crix in front of you on another chair. 

You tell Crix about life back home. About your parents working hard to provide for you. How they loved you and cared for you, and you were too blind to see it because all their attention was spent on their business, their employees. Because if you learned anything from staying with Mando, it’s that some people show their affection silently or roughly, but it never detracts from the intent. 

You ask Crix if he would like to come to your home planet and meet your parents. He says he’d love to. 

Crix tells you all about the adventures he had with your brother. How a simple Alderanian scholar like him became a rebel pilot— the story involved espionage, betrayal, and gambling—or how their first mission together failed. Or even how your brother first reacted to being kissed.

“It was like the concept of a guy kissing another guy was foreign to him,” Crix says. 

“We were very sheltered growing up despite owning a… prostitution bar.” He shakes his head in disbelief. 

“Sheltered alright. He became a rebel and you’re dating a Mandalorian bounty hunter.”

“We’re not dating.” Crix gives you a sure, yeah sure look. You yawn in response. 

You know you should sleep, but the buzzing excitement of questions stops you. Mando said you deserved to talk to Crix, so you will. Besides, conversation with Crix flows easier than a tap of beer. In the same way your brother was your best friend, Crix could be too. If they loved and trusted each other enough to consider marriage after the Empire collapses— a revelation that stings and bites and makes you cry— then you can love and trust Crix too. 

Of course, the Empire and Rebel Alliance’s role in your brother’s death still haunts the back of your mind. If he had never joined, he wouldn’t have died. At least, that’s what you tell yourself. The galaxy is too large and too dangerous to ever guarantee someone’s life. In this galaxy, a Queen of Alderaan and her planet were vaporized, and a Tatooine farm boy destroyed the Empire. Crix told you that ‘it was the will of the Force’ but you don’t really believe it.

How could you believe that an order of wizard monks that were purged to almost extinction?  But if your brother believed in Luke Skywalker— something that Crix made sure to tell you often—then maybe you could too. Except-

A large part of you feels betrayed. Sure, faking his death was for your safety. It still doesn’t erase the years of mourning and grief. It doesn’t erase how you poured so much of yourself into the idea of tracing his steps and living his journey. Finding clues about your brother was supposed to be your big adventure, your ‘coming of age’ tale. Yet… 

He should’ve told you. You would’ve joined him too. You would become a rebel if it meant being with your best friend despite being a young teenager. You’d be by his and Crix’s side, helping to save the galaxy. Maybe he knew that you would follow. You were young and impressionable and idolized him too much. 

“It’s getting late. You can sleep in the bedroom; I’ll be out here.” 

“This is your place, Crix. Not mine.”

“And you’re my lover’s sister. He would smite me,” you both laugh. It’s comfortable and soothing. You can imagine living here, on Tatooine, and helping Crix farm water. Crix would definitely welcome you. Your brother would like it too. The two people he cared for, taking care of each other. 

But you know your place is with Mando. At least for now. When you think of home, it was always the tavern. The Crest isn’t comfortable. It isn’t a home. Yet, being around Mando feels right. Like it’s meant to be. Of course, the cheesy romantic side of you swoons and does all the talking. The rational part scoffs. A life with a bounty hunter doesn’t seem like the life you want or could enjoy. Besides, you have your answers. You’ve accomplished your goals. There’s nothing left to learn from Mando.  

“Let’s just share the bed, yeah?”

“Your Mando won’t mind?” You shrug. 

“It’s not like we’re together, you know. And you’re basically my new brother now.” Crix smiles, a wide, happy, smile. You return the favor. 

When you wake up, hours later, Crix has already left. Groaning, you stretch your arms and back. A real bed did wonders for your physical state. Of course, Crix’s warmth was nothing like Mando’s. Sleeping next to Crix was like cuddling alongside your brother. Familial. Platonic. Mando, on the other hand, made you think sinful, unutterable things. 

A glass of milk waits for you when you emerge from the room. You glance around at the empty living room, and conclude that Crix must be outside. You decide to lounge on the couch with the cold milk and take little sips. There isn’t anything for you to do; when you tried to help yesterday, Crix shooed you away with fervor. Your skills also don’t apply to farming; you’re better off with managing finances.  

You settle for stretching on the floor, taking the time to hold the positions. It’s hot as usual, and you already build up a sweat. You stretched regularly at home, more out of boredom than a desire to stay healthy. There’s room to exercise on the Crest; you see Mando doing it when he has the chance, but it’s still a little awkward for you to stretch around the ship. The Crest isn’t yours, and you don’t know how long Mando will allow you to stay. The thought of your temporary status makes you feel… a little inadequate, so you push that to the back of your mind.

After an hour or so, Crix invites you outside. He asks if you’ll join him on a little trip to Tosche Station since he’s missing some parts he needs for repairs. You agree, excited for a mini adventure, and strap into the speeder bike. Hopefully Mando won’t get worried if he arrives at an empty house. Some part of you wants Mando to miss you and get worried, as selfish as the thought is.  

Anchorhead is quite boring. Aside from leering males and brute criminals, nothing exciting happens. Of course, you and Crix were mistaken for husband and wife—something the both of you laugh at— so you pretend to be in-laws instead which isn’t that far from the truth. After Crix buys all his parts and some extra supplies, you head back to his homestead. 

The rest of the hot day is spent talking about your brother. How he was a great pilot and an even greater friend. How he had to be an absolutely amazing person to catch the attention of a Jedi. Crix seems to hold an idol complex for the near-extinct wizard religion, so your brother talking to Luke was momentous for him. He offers to tell you stories about the Jedi Order, but you’re not really interested. It’s probably your poor, uneducated, Outer Rim self speaking, but the Jedi of the Republic are so fantastical that it’s hard to believe they’re real. Besides, why would you listen to tales about them when you can learn more about your brother? 

The day passes quicker than you realize, and the gentle chill of the night arrives. Like the previous night, you and Crix sit outside to watch the suns set. It’s calming, and you find yourself getting used to the routine. You can see a future, a life here with Crix. A simple life, far from the dangers of space and accompanied by your brother’s lover. 

“He likes you,” Crix says, nudging you out of your thoughts. At your confused face, he continues. “The Mandalorian.” You scoff.

“As if. I don’t even know his name or face.” Crix shakes his head. 

“It wasn’t like that before. My mom told me that Mandos could take off their helmets and say their names anytime they wanted. I think yours is just super strict,” Crix shrugs. Huh. You’ve always wondered about the Mandalorian culture and how strong warriors are hardly seen anymore. Maybe they’re like the Jedi: from a time before the Empire, forever hiding in the shadows, content to lay low and survive. 

“Maybe,” you say and turn to face the lowering suns. From the corner of your eye, you see a dark figure speeding closer. Crix notices too and squints at the approaching speeder bike. The person parks right in front of you and hops off. Mando. 

He drags a gagged and blindfolded person off the bike and onto the sand below. The human male struggles for a bit, but Mando presses a button on the vambrace, and the man shudders before falling unconscious. It’s a disturbing sight, and you shiver. You can’t imagine the feeling of getting electrocuted to sleep. 

“Well, he’s a bounty hunter for sure,” Crix mutters. You jump to your feet and approach Mando. He looks tired. The tension in his shoulders, the stiff stance of his legs, and the heavier breathing point to growing signs of fatigue. A pang of guilt stabs your heart.

 While you were lounging around, drinking milk, and watching the sunset, Mando was working his ass off for a bounty. For just a few credits to fuel his ship and feed himself while providing for you. You haven’t even done anything useful except cleaning and providing a warm body. 

Maybe that’s all he needs you for.

As excited as you are to see him, you also feel a little dread. Crix nods at Mando, and they enter the house along with the bounty. As Mando passes the threshold, he holds a hand out towards you. The little action makes you smile, and you scurry over to take his hand. Together, you go inside the house. Despite the air being hot as usual, you relish in the warmth of Mando’s gloved hand, in the heat his metal armor retains. 

You’ll talk to him later about ways you can help out and ease the burden of his job. Possibly figure out what your relationship really is. If it even needs a label. You need clarity eventually, some even ground at least. 

For now, you settle next to Mando on the couch as Crix prepares some food. Mando will have to eat in a separate room and clean his armor and blasters there too. And you’ll be waiting for him when he’s done.  

read chapter five

[ikementally-deficient]

Advanced Entomology - Chapter 7: Metamorphosis

Fandom: Mr. Love: Queen’s Choice/Love and Producer

Rating: Carolina Reaper (See Masterlist for rating descriptions)

Warnings: dubious/uninformed consent, see masterpost A/N

Due to the nature of the questionable consent in this fic, if you enjoy this story enough to reblog it, please reblog the masterpost rather than individual chapters.

Author’s Note: Holy shit it’s finished! This last chapter was like pulling teeth, and it got both more emotional and less smutty (though still pretty smutty) than I intended. Tangential spoilers for chapters 14-18, although this has departed from canon pretty heavily so you probably won’t get too spoiled if you haven’t read those yet. 

Thank you to everyone who liked, reblogged, and spoke to me on discord and AO3, this never would have been completed without that encouragement.

********************************

He follows her up the stairs. It would almost be boring, if it weren’t for his knowledge of what awaits them at the top.

They climb in silence, Lucien watching the sway of her skirt ahead of him. He focuses on the pleats fluttering around her knees, her slender calves flexing as she climbs. He’s tempted to reach out and grasp her delicate ankle and pull her back, wrapping her limbs around him, ignoring his mission in favour of burying himself in her.

He’s pulled from his reverie by the sound of her shoes scraping to a halt. 

“We’re here.” She places her hand on the bar of the door, preparing to step out on to the roof of the tower. He’s still amazed at how easy it was to lead her here, pretending to follow the trail of clues he’d littered for her to find. He smiles fondly as she looks back at him, amber eyes sparkling with excitement. “Are you ready, Lucien?”

“I’m ready,” he purrs, stifling his anxiety about what lies before them. He’s done his job well. The Queen will trust him, just as his butterfly does. There is nothing to fear. He places his hand over hers on the crash bar.

The roof of the tower is disappointingly prosaic: an open square covered in gravel, with a steel pylon supporting an antenna. The only sound is the faint rush of traffic many stories below them. It’s hardly a worthy setting for the portentous event about to take place.

She leads him across the roof to the pylon and stares up at it. “Is this it? Is this what’s causing everyone’s Evols to go out of control?”

“All evidence seems to point that way.” He stares up, squinting against the sun’s glare. “The antenna is centrally placed, and high enough to reach most of the city.”

“How do we shut it off?”

Lucien holds his breath as she circles the pylon slowly, homing in on the red switch box. He follows her, coming to stand behind her as her hand caresses the switch. 

“Are you ready?” she asks. Her tone is faint, eyes absent. She might be talking to him, or herself, or the world. He casts one last glance up at the silent pylon.

Silly girl.

The switch clunks across its hinge. For a moment nothing happens, and Lucien begins to wonder if he’s miscalculated somehow. Then the pylon hums to life, and he feels the powerful amplification field spring up around them. 

“What --?” She’s shocked, looking up in disbelief. “It was already off?” He places his hands on her shoulders and she whirls to face him. “Lucien, what’s going on?”

“It’s been waiting for you, butterfly. Can’t you feel it working?” He can feel his own Evols responding to the field, but he’s been exposing himself to it off and on for nearly a year. Maintaining control is easy. Not so for her; suddenly dropped into the center of the field, she’s overwhelmed. Her eyes are wide and staring. He knows she’s being assaulted by images, possibilities, quantum futures, and it’s too much for her. With a shuddering sigh, she collapses against him. He gathers her unconscious form into a bridal carry and sits against the waist-high wall, waiting to see who awakens.

*************************************

A faint whimper alerts him before her eyes flick open. Her pupils are so dilated the irises are nearly invisible, just a thin amber border around black pupils. She stares up at him with lips parted, and he is struck by the memory of her pinned to his living room floor, pupils blown wide with wanting.

“Hello,” he breathes.

She blinks a few times, pupils slowly contracting against the afternoon light. “Lucien?” Her voice is faint. He waits, and is rewarded. “Ares.”

“Yes, my Queen.”

She pushes away from him, climbing out of his lap and standing on her own. He rises to stand beside her, ready to guide her back to the stairs, back to Black Swan. He touches her elbow, but suddenly his fragile butterfly is a steel cable under his hand, immoveable.

“You didn’t need to awaken me,” she states flatly. He stares at her. She stares back, inscrutable. “You’d already headed off Zeus and Hades’ foolishness with the virus. You don’t need me here.” She looks around, dismissing him as unimportant for the moment. 

“I needed to complete my mission, my Queen.” 

“Your mission was a waste of time. Black Swan will never have me.” He watches her stalk to the switch box and flip it back to the off position. The hum of electricity dies, and he can feel all his hopes die with it. Her body language is alien, strong and certain and unquestioning and nothing at all like the butterfly he’s tamed. His heart feels cold. 

She glances back at him.

“She’s still here, Ares.” The Queen turns and walks to him, reaching up to cup his cheek. “She couldn’t leave.” He gapes down at her. “Idiot. Did you think neither of us would realise?”

“Realise what?”

“That you love her.”

It’s reflex that has him blurting out a denial of sorts. “I’m not allowed --”

She’s having none of it. “But you do. And so does she.”

“She shouldn’t.”

“Oh, I know. And so does she, now. We’ve seen everything.” Her hand slides down his neck to stroke his tie. “Every possibility. Every way this played out. Every betrayal,” she grabs his tie, nails scoring the silk, “And she still loves you, Ares.”

Lucien gapes down at her, at a complete loss. His mouth works for a moment before he can find words. “Why?”

The Queen smiles up at him, a self-assured Cheshire Cat curl. “Because even when you betray her, you protect her. As much as you can. It’s rather sweet, actually.” Her grip on his tie tightens as she begins to pull him down, a slow steady drag.

“I don’t -- I don’t understand,” he stammers desperately.

“Lucien.” It’s her voice again, the delicate butterfly’s sweet tone. “It’s alright.” She presses a gentle kiss to his lips and he’s back in the art gallery, so many months ago. He raises his hands to cup her face, losing himself in her soft mouth. 

At last they part, and he stares down at her in wonder. “I still don’t understand.”

She gives him a tremulous smile, and he can still see the Queen lurking in her eyes, but the smile is all her. “None of it matters, Lucien. No matter how all of this ends, you always love me.” Her cheeks bloom with the same blush he remembers evoking as they stood in echo of Klimt’s kiss. “And I love you.” She reaches up to clasp her hands around the nape of his neck. “Please, Lucien, take me home,” she leans in, pressing against him with an assertiveness he’s never dared dream of, “And take me.”

The idea of descending the stairs and taking a bus or a taxi never occurs to him. He slides his arms around her waist and steps backwards into her bedroom. His heel hits the foot of the bed and he’s falling backwards onto the duvet, pulling her down on top of him. She lands clumsily, straddling his hips with her hands planted next to his ears. 

“Are you sure?” Lucien’s voice is hoarse. It seems absurd to ask now, of all times, after months of practically forcing her to want him, but the mission is blown, the Queen autonomous, and he desperately wants something real to make up for everything he’s repressed in the name of Black Swan. 

She giggles and his heart lightens when she dips her head to dust kisses across his forehead and down his nose. Her lips trace a sweet path across his mouth and along his jaw, coming to rest next to his ear. A puff of warm breath accompanies her answer.

“I’m positive, Lucien.” Her kisses continue down his neck and into the gap of his collar, before she pulls back to start undoing his tie with an adorably focused expression. At last she pulls the silk out of his collar and eyes him contemplatively. 

“You know,” she says, and even in the dim light he can see both of them in her eyes. “You’ve worked so hard over the last few months to make me feel good.” She takes his wrists and tugs until he lets her lift his arms over his head, and starts to wind the tie around them. “I have the feeling you won’t believe any of this is real until I’ve had the chance to return the favour a little.” She leans over him, the fabric of her shirt brushing against his nose. He can feel the tug of the tie against his wrists until his hands are resting against the headboard. He twitches experimentally and realises she’s tied him to the bed.

“What are you doing?”

She crawls backwards down his torso until they’re nose to nose. “I’ve seen everything you’ve done to me, Lucien.” Her forehead gently bumps against his before she’s moving down again, undoing each button of his shirt and kissing the skin behind it before proceeding to the next one. “More importantly, I’ve seen everything you haven’t done, everything you could have done, everything you did somewhere else but not here.” Her lips brush his navel and Lucien can feel his abdominal muscles flinch when she trails her tongue across them. 

“Do you know,” she continues conversationally as her fingers make short work of his belt buckle. “You’ve done this in other places -- other timelines?” She looks off in the distance for a moment before shrugging. “Taken me to bed. Conditioned me.” The belt falls open and the zipper of his trousers follows suit. “But you always hold yourself back.” She smirks a little and he flushes, remembering the afternoon in front of the mirror. “Well, nearly always. It’s never been about you.”

Her fingers slide under the waistband of his shorts, and slowly pull until his erection springs free, hard and hot. She leans in and he shivers as her hair tickles his skin. “I’ve been wanting this for a long time.” She rubs her cheek along the length of him. “This is about you.”

His heart nearly hammers out of his chest when she takes the head of his cock into her mouth. Her mouth is hot and wet and the slide of her tongue has him gritting his teeth. At the sound of his groan she sucks hard and the headboard creaks as his hands are stymied in their effort to grab her. 

She slides off him with a quiet pop and grins. “Do you like that, Lucien?” Sucking him back in, she pulls his trousers and shorts down to his knees and nudges him to pull his legs free. He’s splayed in front of her, his only clothing the shirt hanging from his bound forearms. His hips flex, yearning to thrust into her mouth.

Lucien forces his arms to relax against the tie. “I do.” His body is aching to hold her. “But --” his voice falters.

“But what?” She waits patiently, crouched over him, breathing warmly against him as he tries to figure out how to just ask for something. Lucien represses everything for his mission. Ares takes what is necessary. But now, he has the opportunity to request his deepest desire and receive it, freely given, knowingly given.

“I want . . . “ He trails off, then sucks in a steadying breath and starts again. “I want to hold you.”

She blinks up at him. 

“Everything I’ve done up to now has been for someone else’s goals.” He licks his lips, mesmerised by the gleam of her eyes. “I just want to hold you. For myself.”

The catch of her breath is audible. They stare at each other in silence for a moment, Lucien painfully aware that neither his blush nor his erection are fading. Then suddenly she is slithering back up his torso until her mouth meets his in a desperate, hungry kiss while her hands work at the knot in the tie. The instant his hands are free he sheds the shirt and wraps his arms around her, one hand clutching her waist and the other buried in her hair. They spend several minutes in this pose, drinking each other in, bodies grinding against each other. Lucien feels like the hormonal teenager he once disclaimed to Zeus as he moans into her. 

Finally, the feeling of her clothing against his skin is too much. “Please,” he begs. “Let me undress you.”

She presses away from him, hands on his shoulders. “No, I don’t think so.” He can feel himself shrivel as she crawls off of him. Her hands move to the bow of her sash and his heart stops. “We’re done with you doing things to me, Lucien.” The sash falls loose and she slides the dress over her head and sits back on her knees, all pale pink flesh and white cotton underthings. She reaches up to touch the clasp of her bra and meets his eyes. “I’m doing this now.” She shrugs the bra away as the clasp slips open and shimmies out of her panties. A beautiful flush warms her breasts as she comes back to him and settles in his arms. “Do you understand?”

The emotional whiplash is wiped away by the feeling of her soft hair curling along his cock, recovered and straining against her. He holds her close again, waiting for her to make the first move. Patience is rewarded; she gathers herself to slide wetly over his cock, teasing him with her arousal. Long minutes of this and they’re both panting heavily. Each flex of her hips is slower, tantalizing him with the rub and gentle catch of her clitoris against the head of his erection. Finally, she raises her hips enough to angle him against her entrance and pauses, teasing.

“Are you ready?” she asks, that Cheshire cat smile on her swollen mouth. Lucien’s mouth is dry, but he forces the sound from his throat.

“Yes --” and she’s engulfing him, moist heat and delicious pressure and it’s so different from that day of the mirror because she’s in charge and letting him be inside her. All the muscles from his diaphragm to his thighs clench tight and spasm as she rides him, leaning back and dragging his hands up her torso. He follows and brings his mouth to her breasts, sucking desperately at her nipples as his hands clutch her hips hard enough to bruise.

She gasps as his teeth scrape across her and he can see her hand sliding down her own stomach in his peripheral vision. She tightens around him as her fingers rub desperately at her clit, and he loses all sense of control. His face is buried between her breasts as her orgasm shudders around him and he can no longer hold off his own, spilling into her and feeling all his discipline evaporate. They fall back into the sheets, still twitching around each other. Her mouth lands on his clavicle and she presses open kisses to it, each own mirrored by a shivering aftershock around his softening cock. 

“This is how it is from now on, Lucien.” Her voice is a hoarse whisper, but still sweet. “Can you accept that?”

He considers, long enough for his cock to slide out of her and the sweat on his chest and forehead to cool and dry. He’s not in charge anymore, and she’s not quite the butterfly he tamed. Black Swan will still need to be dealt with; the Queen is a threat to them now, and a rogue Olympian can’t be left alone. But -- 

He looks down at her and smiles. It’s not one of his practiced smiles, trotted out for appropriate reactions to appropriate occasions, and he has no idea what it looks like.

“I can, and I will . . . my Monarch.”

All things considered, the situation could be much worse.

[princesstreaclefanfic]

Twilight Kinktober 2019 Day Five

Disclaimer - All recognisable characters belong to their original owners. I do not make a profit from writing this; I simply do it for my own amusement. No copyright infringement intended.

High Heels / Deep Throating

ESME AND CARLISLE.

As long as she was wearing heels, he was hard. It didn't happen with any other woman, just her. It was those damn heels.

He heard her coming before he saw her. She was wearing a navy blue lace dress that fell to her knees and navy blue high heels with a delicate strap that wrapped around her slim ankle.

The dress showed off her plentiful cleavage and shapely arms. The navy blue complimented her pale skin.

He was hard. Who was he kidding - he was always hard for her. As long as she was wearing heels, he was hard. It didn't happen with any other woman, just her. It was those damn heels.

She was the forbidden fruit he couldn't have. He was a junior doctor and she was a consultant; one of the best in her field. She specified in children's medicine and she was wonderful. She soothed parents and children alike and had saved more lives than he could count. She was his fantasy.

"Not daydreaming again are we, Doctor Cullen?" Bella, the nurse asked and Carlisle felt his ears heat up.

"Apologies, Nurse Swan," Carlisle responded as he stood and gave her some files he had been working on.

"Dreaming about a specific consultant?" she inquired and Carlisle felt his face heat up this time.

"You should just ask her out," Bella told him. Bella and Carlisle had been working together for the last few years and she was well aware of his crush on Esme. She couldn't understand why he didn't just ask her on a date.

The truth was, Carlisle thought she was too good for him. She was several years older than him and knew what she wanted from life. Carlisle… well, Carlisle didn't even know if he wanted to specialise in anything yet. He was quite happy going home to his crappy little one-bedroom apartment, eating a microwave meal and watching reruns of Frasier. Somehow he didn't think that would be what Esme saw as a good time.

"Forget it, Bella," Carlisle politely said, walking past her to go and get some more supplies that he would need later in the day.

Once he had got the supplies, Carlisle decided he would go for lunch. He didn't feel like taking the stairs and decided instead to take the elevator.

Stepping inside he was slightly surprised when it stopped on the floor below and Esme Platt entered, giving him a blinding smile and standing next to him.

"…What floor?" he asked in a shaky voice.

"The same as you," she responded, pointing to the control panel. "Ground floor - I'm hungry."

"Me too." Carlisle wasn't quite sure why he told her that and he looked at the floor, feeling incredibly embarrassed. The embarrassment was replaced with arousal when he saw her heeled feet. God - how did she make high heels look so attractive?

"What are you going to get for lunch?" Esme asked him in a pleasant voice, turning her body to face him.

"Me?" Carlisle stuttered once more. This earned him a giggle and Esme nodded. "Well… ugh. I quite like the meatball sub…"

"Oh! I love those!" she exclaimed. "You're Carlisle Cullen, right? You've been here a few years?"

Carlisle nodded, his voice stuck in his throat.

"I'm Esme Platt - it's weird that we've never spoken before." It's because you're too good for me, Carlisle thought.

"Shall we?" she asked, gesturing towards the doors as the elevator came to the bottom floor.

Carlisle exited after Esme and to his surprise, they got lunch together.

The more she spoke, the more Carlisle found it easier to talk to her.

Everything was going alright when he felt the need to ask her why she always wore high heels. He tried to fight the need to ask, but his mouth and brain were working in different directions.

"Why do you wear heels all the time?" When the words came out of his mouth, his eyes went wide and he began to apologise profusely. "I'm sorry - I didn't mean to be rude."

She waved him off. "Don't apologise. I like wearing heels because they make me feel powerful. Sexy, Beautiful. Some women wear lace underwear to make them feel good about themselves; I wear heels." Being a visual person, Carlisle could only think about Esme in lace underwear and heels.

"We should get back," Esme said, glancing up at the clock before she stood and they got rid of their trays together.

"Are you going to the financial meeting this afternoon?" Carlisle asked as they got back into the elevator together.

"Yep," she sighed. "I have to - the board want us to reduce our spending but they don't seem to understand that when we have ill patients, we have to treat them, we can't let them suffer." Was there anything negative about this woman?

"I'm going to the meeting too," Carlisle said. "Eleazar can't make it and wants me to go on his behalf."

She nodded her head in understanding.

"Carlisle?" Esme asked, his name rolling off her tongue. "I've seen you staring at me - do you like me?"

"Uhh… well… uhh…" His mind felt like it was melting in his head. How was he supposed to respond to that?

"It's alright," Esme cooed, stepping closer to him. "I think you're very cute." Carlisle was now stood at the back of the elevator with Esme stood in front of him.

He didn't know what came over him but Carlisle leaned forward and kissed her. His arms wrapped around her waist and held her close.

When he pulled back, Carlisle thought she might slap him, curse him or even knee him in the balls. But she did none of those things. She smiled and then pushed him back against the elevator, fisting her hands into his shirt and kissing him back hard.

It was glorious. Her lips were soft and tasted like cherry (why did they taste like cherry?). She smelled like disinfectant (something you couldn't get rid of when you worked at the hospital) but it suited her and she was so warm under his fingertips.

"You asked me why I wore heels," Esme panted when they parted. "I only told you half the answer." She leaned forward and kissed him again, lightly nipping at his lips. "They put me at the perfect height to do this." Her hand let go of his shirt and crept down to his slacks. She fondled him lightly, rubbing the fabric of his slacks against his underwear.

Carlisle moaned and she smiled.

His pleasure was short-lived when the elevator began to shudder to a stop. He began to panic, but Esme didn't even flinch. She turned slowly so she was stood in front of Carlisle, never taking one hand off his cock. She brought the other one behind her back and smiled at the nurses who entered.

When the elevator started to move again, Carlisle fully expected for Esme to remove her hand from his cock. She, however, had other plans.

The hand that was already on his cock, moved upwards and pulled his zipper down, her hand slipping into his trousers first and then his boxers.

Carlisle's eyes widened and he looked down, Esme's heels only bringing her up to his shoulder. He looked down and she turned her head slightly, giving him a wicked grin.

She slowly caressed his cock with her hand, the soft skin making his cock weep with relief.

Bringing her other hand to the inside of his boxers, Esme's worked him over, carefully twisting each hand in the opposite way to really stimulate him.

Carlisle tried to keep his eyes open but the pleasure was mounting. His knees felt weak and he wanted to throw his head back and moan with pleasure.

The elevator ding brought him back and he watched with relief as all the nurses got off leaving him with just Esme and her hands down his pants.

"Shit," he growled into her ear, causing her to giggle.

"Hold the elevator!" a voice called out as the doors began to shut and Carlisle was pleased that Esme couldn't do anything as both her hands were down his pants.

A good Samaritan had other ideas though and stopped the doors for her, smiling when she thanked him and got in.

"Esme - how good to see you!" the voice exclaimed and Carlisle could have cursed when he saw who it was: Jessica - the hospital gossip.

Carlisle tried to discreetly step away from Esme but when he stepped back, her grip on his cock tightened and he felt pleasure surge through his veins like a lightning strike. Okay he thought don't do anything to make her grip it any harder or you'll be coming quicker than a virgin during his first time at a strip club.

Esme moved backwards and slightly to her left, blocking even more of Carlisle as she increased the speed of her hands on his cock. Now she was blocking Jessica from seeing anything and the brown-haired girl was none the wiser.

She chatted with Esme about new hospital developments and Carlisle nodded along even though he had no clue where the conversation was going. All he knew was that he was going to blow his load - and soon.

"Well this is me," Jessica said, stepping off the elevator, giving Esme a wave.

The second the doors had closed, Esme turned back to Carlisle and kissed his neck.

"We've got one more floor - think you can cum for me in that time?"

Carlisle nodded desperately and let his head fall back against the elevator and a deep moan escape his mouth.

Esme attached her mouth to his neck and sucked, her hands swiping over the pre-cum that beaded on the head of his cock.

Her mouth kissed its way up to his ear and she began to whisper to him.

"Do you know how many times I've thought of this? How many times I've fantasised about having you at this hospital? How many times I've imagined you bending me over my desk?" It was that last image that did it. The thought of Esme bent over her desk, dress shoved to her hips as he pounded into her, high heels still on her feet that sent him flying over the edge. His poor cock dribbling cum all over her hands and the inside of his underwear.

When he had finished, his whole body leant against the back wall of the elevator. Esme pulled her hands out and then using a tissue she pulled from the pocket of her dress, she wiped his cum from her hands. But not before she teased him by sucking two fingers into her mouth and moaning.

She quickly pulled his fly up just as the doors opened and she led him out, his legs still weak.

"Well this is my floor, Carlisle," there was a teasing light in her eyes. "Thank you for a wonderful lunch."

"Thank you," Carlisle told her back. "I've not had a lunch that enjoyable in quite a while."

She bit her lip. "You're more than welcome."

Feeling brave and knowing that there was something between them, Carlisle tried his luck. "Maybe we could have lunch tomorrow? Same time?"

"I'd really like that."

"You should wear heels again." His eyes travelled to her feet once more and his cock began to stir to life. His eyes met hers and she smirked. "I might give you an enjoyable lunch tomorrow."

Her eyes widened and she grinned. "I'll see you tomorrow, Carlisle."

He resisted the urge to fist pump the air as she walked away, those heels making the signature clicking noise.

[omnomsauruswrites]

Take Your Chances

Pairing: Bucky x Darcy

Summary: Emotions fly when trapped in a car in the middle of a blizzard.

Warnings: SMUT

“You know we are driving into a blizzard?” Darcy asked as she saw the mounting clouds.

“We’ll be fine, doll,” he pacified.

“I doubt it,” she muttered under her breathe.

Hours later with it too hard to see, they pulled off into a rest stop. “What did I tell you?” she asked fiercely. “I said that’s a blizzard.”

“I heard you the first hundred times, doll.”

She growled, “Don’t call me doll right now!”

She crossed her arms and stared out the window, seeing all white. She wanted to scream. Go with Bucky, Steve had said, you’ll be safe. Right, now she was stuck with him in a car when they were supposed to be at a safe house. She wished she had taken her chances with HYDRA.

“What was that?” he asked incredulously.

She turned her head to look at him. “What?”

“Did you just say you’d rather take your chances with Hydra?” he restated, anger all over his face.

“Did I say that aloud?”

“Yes,” he confirmed.

“Whoops.”

She looked out the window; she just wanted to be home, wanted to be warm, wanted to be away from him. Ever since the drunk kiss a week ago, she had been running the other way every time she saw him. She had been trying to keep it in her pants for months and then she had champagne, which meant drunk Darcy. Drunk Darcy had cuddled up to him and kissed him goodnight, when he escorted her home.

She rested her head against the cold window. They would have to wade it out and she only had so much patience about being trapped in a car, let alone trapped in a car with him.

She sighed. This was torture. This was….

“Stop fearing the worst,” he chided.

She didn’t respond, trying to picture a warm, beachy place with a cabana boy. She smiled slightly, thinking about the crystal, clear water and the warm sand. Then the cabana boy turned into Bucky and she groaned. Why? Why couldn’t see dream of Sam or Captain America? Why did it have to be his stubborn ass?

She turned to grab her backpack from the back and noticed his eyes had been watching her. “What?” she questioned nervously.

He tilted his head slightly, taking in her face. “This is the longest we’ve been together in a week, just making sure nothing’s changed,” he teased.

She rolled her eyes. “Not a lot of things could change in a week, Barnes.”

“Sure they can; like we’re back to you calling me Barnes instead of Bucky or Buck.”

She didn’t answer before grabbing her bag, pulling out a magazine. She sat back down and started to read.

“Is this about the kiss?” he asked nonchalantly.

She tried not to tense, she really did but he wouldn’t be the best assassin if he didn’t see it. Her eyes read the same sentence over and over again until the words blurred. “Yes…” she whispered, eyes never leaving the page.

“Did I do it wrong?” he replied.

“Did you do it wrong?!” she mumbled to herself. “Totally that’s why I went back to my room and gave myself the best orgasm of the week.”

“What was that?”

She shut the magazine. “Are you seriously questioning whether or not you are good kisser? Is that what’s going on?”

“Well… it’s either that or you don’t like me like that.”

“Oh, I like you plenty,” she admitted, slapping her hand over her mouth after her confession.

Her blue eyes stared straight ahead, as she felt her cheeks heat up.

“Oh…” he said. “So you were running away because…”

She wiped a hand over face. They were really going to do this in a car in the middle of the blizzard.

“Because I wanted to climb you like a tree. Because not all my thoughts are PG. Because holy hell are you hot and I’m well … I’m well me.”

His hand went to her left arm, tugging gently to try and get her to look at him. “What’s that supposed to mean, Darce?”

She groaned, turning to face him, “It means you’re the Winter fucking Soldier and I’m a nobody. I work in the lab. I’m a hot mess most days. And you could have any girl you want, I shouldn’t even make your list.”

His steel blue eyes stared right at her, jaw tensing. “I think you got that wrong,” he chastised. “I think I’m the one that no girl should want….”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And so are you.”

She tilted her head slightly at him, gauging him. He wasn’t lying, she knew he didn’t mince words, he was straightforward. “So what are you saying?” she asked.

“I’m saying we get into the backseat and make out, doll,” a smirk landing on his lips with the suggestion.

“You want to make out in a blizzard?”

His smirk widened and he licked his lips. His hand went to her cheek and he pulled himself over the console. “Yes,” he breathed before his lips sealed over hers.

It was demanding from the start. His tongue swiped for entrance and dueled with hers. His metal hand supported her neck. Her hands gripped his shirt, tugging it.

Once he was satisfied with kissing her, he nibbled down her neck, leaving love bites. She moaned, tipping back her head. He hummed his approval against her skin.

Her hands wandered down until she found the hem of his shirt, pushing it upwards. He pulled away to throw it in the backseat. He looked at her with lust filled eyes. “We got to get in the back,” he instructed.

She didn’t have to be told twice, as she moved over the console into the back. Despite his bulk, he did so effortlessly. Her eyes took in his muscular chest. “Jesus, you’re photoshopped,” she commented, licking her lips.

He lunged at her, forcing her to lay on the backseat. His hips pushed against hers and she moaned at feeling his hard-on. His hands forced up her sweater, exposing her to hot, humid air. His mouth went to a pert nipple, laving at it. Her fingers tugged his hair at the action, her body pushing into his. “Bucky…” she moaned. “Baby…”

He hummed against her skin, his tongue now tracing the top cups of her bra. She tugged his hair, again. “Clothes off,” she demanded.

He pulled away to gaze at her, eyes now black. She rolled her hips against him, creating friction where her body demanded it. “Clothes off,” she repeated, licking her lips.

He bent down to take her lips. The kiss was needy and had longing beneath the surface. Her hands left his hair to unbutton his jeans, going underneath to stroke him through his boxers. He moaned, “Doll…”

She pushed down the zipper and the material down his hips. “Want you…” she teased. “Want you inside of me… want to feel all of you…”

His hands ripped off her leggings, as he pulled away from her. He took in her curves, her heaving chest, her maroon, cotton panties. “You are fucking gorgeous, suga’. Like a fuckin’ dessert,” he complimented, his Brooklyn accent surfacing.

She stroked his cock firmer, as his hips pushed himself into her hand. “Bucky… no more waiting… Please…” she pleaded.

He forced his boxers down, his cock springing free. His metal hand nudged her panties aside. “Are you sure?” he whispered suddenly.

Her blue eyes flew to his, seeing his hesitation. He needed reassurance and she was more than willing to give it to him. “Buck, you are the only man I’ve been dreaming off for months. And while most of it is of this right here, often it’s also the little things. Like when you make my coffee or we snuggle on the couch. You’ve held my heart for my months, soldier.”

He smiled, lips kissing hers sweetly, before pushing into her quickly. She cried out, as he set a hard pace, taking all that he wanted. “Me too,” he assured. “God, doll, you are all that I think about.”

She arched up into him, rubbing her chest against his. His cock was thick and large, rubbing every nerve of her cunt and she felt the electricity building quickly. She had never had it this rapid, her body on fire.

Bucky bent his head, pulling the lace of her bra down before he sucked a nipple into his mouth. She cursed. He did the same to the other one and the flames now were raging within her. “Bucky…” she gasped. “Baby…”

“Cum for me,” he commanded. “Cum for me, Darce.”

His words sent the fire raging and she came for him. Slickness gushed out of her and he thrusted through it. “Again,” he begged.

He tilted his hips, finding another spot. Darcy felt her walls continue to flutter. Her eyes opened to see him gazing at her. A look of adoration and desire shone there. “Bucky…” she gasped.

“I got you, doll. One more time for me,” he instructed. “One more. Fly again for me.”

Her right hand moved to her clit and she began making tight circles. She felt the fire again, felt it beneath the surface.

They never took their eyes off each other, as his hips began to falter. “Doll…” he groaned. “Darce… Cum with me…”

A couple more circles and she was right there with them, crying out as she watched him chant her name, cumming inside her. She watched all the emotions flicker across his face and she smiled.

His head fell to her collarbone, where he kissed it. Her fingers carded through his hair, brushing it softly. He hummed his approval, as they came down from their high.

It was minutes before anyone of them spoke, they both soaked in the moment.

Darcy looked around the car after a few minutes, seeing the steam covered windows. She had no clue if the blizzard had passed. “We’re safe doll,” he interrupted.

She chuckled. “Always safe with you and that’s not what I was thinking about.”

He lifted his head to look at her, requesting for her to continue.

“It would just be a really awkward moment if Hydra found us, that’s all.”

He laughed.

@cchellacat @eurynome827

[neoct18]

discoloration i

pairing ➳ leo x reader

⋅ this is part one of three of the discoloration small series. the stories are interlocked.

⋅ following pairings ➳ ken x reader, hongbin x reader

Your life could be described as a series of unfortunate events.

Definitely not with capital letters, and with no association to the books and characters, or, well, those Events, but situations have been quite unfortunate for you.

You wanted to blame it all on your bad luck, but the thing was—this was all you. Classic you, even.

Of course you would meet an eerily handsome older guy at a bar on your one night off; of course you’d be intrigued by him, and like all deers that stood staring at blinding headlights, you’d be left in ruins. Caught in the beauty of shiny things like easy prey.

He’d introduced himself as Leo, originally. He was tall and lean; fit too, it was obvious underneath his white shirt. But he was also the silent type, and when he spoke his voice was velvety; soft like melting caramel, with a slight huskiness.

He was sporting a fresh cut on his right cheekbone, and his knuckles were all scratched up and raw-looking. You knew you probably shouldn’t ask him about it, but you could never help yourself.

Your curiosity always got the best of you. And that was always your downfall.

“Do you always get into fights?”

He’d smiled faintly, downing his drink and signaling for another one to the bartender.

“Only if I’m getting paid,” he replied. “But this,” and he tapped his shoulders, “I lost my temper.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. You can’t picture this guy losing his temper. It must have been a rare case.

“I’m sorry for the guy,” you admitted.

He laughed, almost embarrassed, and looked at you with those slitted, dark eyes. Your eyes travelled to his lips. He had rosy, pouty lips. For a moment you thought about how it’d feel to kiss him, this interesting stranger that didn’t seem like a threat at all to you. You thought about running your fingers through his soft, surely dyed looking hair, and your core felt all tingly.

Before you could wander off further, he spoke again.

“Ken can take a punch. It’s my fault, I got riled up.”

At that, he downed the second round of his choice of drink, looking ahead as if replaying a memory through his head.

You, on the other hand, hadn’t the slightest clue who this Ken guy was, or why Leo would get mad at him, but it really didn’t matter to you back then.

Men are men. If they find they need to solve something through violence, there’s not a thing that will stop them.

You probably looked like you were about to talk again, because he turned to you, and simply said, “No more questions,” his cold expression shutting you up immediately.

For a while, the two of you just sipped on your drinks silently, but then, just when you were about to pay to leave, disappointed you ticked off your potential hook up for the night, the bartender informed you that the tab had been taken care of.

Before you could wonder who could’ve paid for you, you glanced at Leo’s knowing face.

“Why’d you pay for me?”

He tilted his head, almost like a cat, like he didn’t understand the question.

“I can’t pay for a beautiful girl’s drinks?”

You blushed at that, because even sitted, he still towered over you, exuding a sort of confidence you’d never come close before.

“I didn’t mean—I... thank you. I just meant... why? You obviously got annoyed earlier.”

Stumbling over your words only made you hotter from embarrassment. Not your proudest moment.

The song in the background changed to something darker, jazzy. You thought it fit him.

That tingly feeling appeared again, this time lower. You desperately tried to keep your composure, while he looked perfect, if not a tad bit sleepy from the alcohol.

“You didn’t annoy me, sweetheart. I’m just not good at making small talk,” he paused, and you almost thought you saw a flash of color on his cheeks. “I apologize, I didn’t realize you got so quiet because of me. I... tend to be a bit curt sometimes.”

You were relieved to hear that. You shouldn’t have been, because then things wouldn’t have escalated to what it has now become.

But back then, that moment, you mastered all your drunken courage and kissed him on the cheek as goodbye.

Leo grabbed your wrist and turned his face so your lips could touch. When that happened, your stomach backflipped. And when he moved his lips on yours, you knew you wanted him.

So Leo led you both out of that bar and into his car, driving fast towards what you’d later know to be his second house. The one he used for predicaments like these.

In his actual house, lived two more people. Men that would fuck up your life. Majorly.

But that Saturday, it was Leo. And Leo was the smoothest man you’d ever met.

He brought you inside the big living room, and throwing both your coats on the couch you noticed, he walked you backwards towards a wall, next to a small staircase.

He was so much taller than you’d imagined, with long legs and big hands that you wanted everywhere on you.

“I’m not a one time thing, you know,” he huskily said next to your ear, before his lips travelled along your jaw, leaving a trail of wet kisses behind.

“Oh,” you moaned, even though it was intended as a question.

“I’m going to turn you around now, and bind your wrists,” he saw that you wanted to speak, but he caught you off. “Do you want this to be a one time thing? If so, I’m taking you to the bed.”

A one time thing? God, no. Not with you that turned on, not when you were about to embark on a whole new adventure.

You shook your head, because you felt like you shouldn’t talk.

You saw him nod out of the corner of your eye, before he took off his silk scarf and wrapped it with experience around your wrists, tight but not to the point where it hurt.

“Bend for me, please.” “More,” you felt the restraint of your skirt when he told you to stop.

Somehow knowing your skirt was bothering you, he lifted it up until your ass was exposed, along with your lacy black panties.

It had then dawned on you that he hadn’t asked for your name yet. Was that part of his game? Should that be worrying to you?

“Tell me,” his velvety voice was so inviting, you’d tell him anything.

You were probably a little drunk, or else this whole scenario wouldn’t have unraveled so fast. But you weren’t drunk enough that you couldn’t distinguish if you wanted this or not, and once again, Leo seemed to know that.

“You haven’t asked for my name,” you voiced your worry, and then bit your lip.

You felt his hand then, on your lower back, hovering, barely touching. You wanted your shirt off. You wanted to feel his warm hands on your skin.

“I know your name, (Y/N). I own that bar.”

Of course he did. You should be lowering your skirt and running out of there, but you didn’t. Leo had handled you respectfully. You felt that even though you hadn’t voiced much, he already knew what you wanted, from that first drink till your bending over for him.

It felt like he knew your needs, which turned you on like nothing else.

“Does that freak you out?” He continued to use a calm, soothing tone, that lulled you right into his arms.

One of his hands was now holding your wrists, while the other rubbed circles over the part of your ass that remained clothed.

You clenched around nothing, feeling yourself getting wet.

“No,” you breathed.

“After we’re done with this, I’m going to learn more than just your name. I don’t want you to think I’m using you, (Y/N), is that clear to you?”

You almost cried out. His voice was too much, his words were too much, and his touch was so teasing, you could come just by his caress.

“I’ve liked you for a while, watched you sitting on the bar stool every Saturday, sometimes alone, sometimes with friends. But I’m a busy man, I couldn’t find the time to do this. Does this freak you out?”

Stalking? A bit. But he gave that word a new meaning, something romantic. Maybe you were going crazy from the need of wanting to be filled, but all this was a compliment to you.

To have such a mans attention, unbeknownst to you, to have him look at you, and wonder about you...

It would prove to be catastrophic. But for now, it felt like all had aligned for this moment.

“Leo...” you moaned. His hand had cupped the place you needed him most.

“I was right about you. You’re right for me,” he said in a quiet voice.

And then, in one swift motion your panties had been pushed aside, and his fingers were working inside you. You wanted to turn around and touch him, but you remained right where you were, afraid you’d ruin it.

His other hand had come in the front, cupping your breasts, before undoing the buttons of your black shirt. Then his fingers tugged down your bra, and you were completely exposed to him, despite being fully clothed still.

When he rammed into you, you felt like you’d fall face down, your knees buckling. Your hard breathing met his fast pace, his hands grabbing the silk of his scarf around your wrists so as to steady you. Your head had fallen against the wall, but this position wouldn’t be for long.

After a while, he slammed you against the wall, taking you rough but slow, your moans turning into cries of ecstasy as you were reaching your high.

It was incredible, sex with him. It was intense, and full filling, and everything your sex life was missing.

When you finally came, spent, your heart threatening to jump out your chest, he pulled out.

That made you freeze. You tried to look at him, but got light headed. He steadied you once again, and kissed your neck, releasing your wrists from the silk, and straightening your skirt.

You turned around to look at him tucking in his shirt, and besides the obvious flash of red on his face, he looked immaculate. Like he didn’t just fuck someone into oblivion.

“You didn’t come.”

His dark eyes bore into yours, as he kissed your lips hungrily and proceeded to button your shirt back up.

“I wanted this to be about you.”

You scrunched your eyebrows together. “What? Why? Let me—“ You reached for his zipper, ready to get on your knees.

He held you up with little force.

“I don’t like women on their knees,” he said in almost a reprimanding voice, and you felt bad.

“But—“

He shut you up by kissing you. Your hand reached between you and found his bulge. You rubbed it over his jeans without a second thought. He pulled away from your mouth, groaning, and took your hand away.

“Why aren’t you letting me? Am I doing something wrong?” You couldn’t help but start losing confidence.

Everything had been perfect for you, but it seemed like he didn’t get much out of what you would describe the best fuck of your life.

He shushed all of that away. “I’d come again and again for you. I’m seconds away from exploding right now. If I had a problem with you, you wouldn’t be here right now. You’re perfect.” Patting your hair down, he guided your hand over his bulge again.

“You feel it, yes?” You nodded, feeling your panties get wet again.

His power over you was overwhelming.

“It’s all for you. But I can control myself, and I’m going to. This was about you, about getting to know your body.”

Fuck. Fuck him and his perfect words.

You should’ve probably figured out a man like that would turn out to be dangerous for you.

[teamkaiforever]

FORBIDDEN LOVE

(requested by @lynxywinxy) 

Kai Parker x Reader word count: 5 207 warning: slight smut summary: Reader and Kai are college roommates; and they love each other but can’t be together. _________________________________________

There were things every girl dreams about – from the simplest things like finding that perfect pair of shoes, to not so simple ones, like falling in love. When that happened to Y/N it finally felt as if her life was going to have that one thing that her heart and soul had always desired, the one thing her life was missing. Only things turned out to be way more complicated than she had expected because being a werewolf, an alpha of her pack, nothing was ever simple. Including falling in love.

Y/N gulped her drink at once and sighed. About a century ago, after an accident, the alpha of her pack had forbidden any kind of romantic interactions between werewolves of the pack with non-werewolves. Which was exactly the obstacle standing between her and what her heart most desired. Or more like who.

Not more than ten metres away from her, on the karaoke stage at the bar, stood the person she loved. Malachai Parker, her college roommate. He was beyond handsome with a smile that could brighten up the darkest of days, eyes that could melt a snow cone and absolutely perfect features in every single aspect… except one. He was a heretic – a vampire/witch hybrid. At first when they had moved in together Y/N hadn’t had a clue about who or what he was and by the time she knew, it had already been too late. Her heart had already belonged to him and no one else.

Kai waved at her from across the stage and motioned for her to come but she only lightly shook her head, again and again until – “Everyone, help me get my friend Y/N on the stage.”

Y/N looked around, almost chocking on the new drink she had ordered for herself. A couple of their college classmates were in the bar with them and practically carried her to the stage ignoring her protests. Awkwardly, almost falling on her face, she stood next to Kai who immediately put his hand around her shoulder and pulled her towards him.   “I will kill you in your sleep.” she hissed in his ear, smiling and waving at her friends who cheered them on.  “You know how much I hate being the centre of attention.”

Kai turned towards her, almost resting his forehead on hers and grinned passing her another microphone. “Looking forward to it, sweetheart.” then his attention returned to the audience. “Someone press play on the ‘Time of our lives’…”

_________________________________________

Y/N laid in her bed looking at the ceiling with her hands clasped on her stomach and a dopey smile on her face. It was already 4AM, she should’ve been asleep but how could she when her entire self was vibrating on a different frequency? His frequency.  Going up on the stage with him hadn’t been something she had been very thrilled about, not because she didn’t like singing or being in Kai’s arms but because of the wave of anxiety that had washed over her. Yet, Kai always knew just how to make her let go. As long as his arms were around her, there could be a thousand people and she wouldn’t notice.

A sigh left her lips and she reached under her pillow, taking out her diary. Y/N had never been a diary person until the inability to share with someone how she feels about Kai had become so big, it had started to suffocate her. That’s why, almost a month since meeting him, she had started a journal. In a way this small book, which she usually hid on the bookshelf at the top row behind the books, had become her confidant. It wasn’t the same as talking with someone, but it felt a lot better writing it down than keeping it in.

Y/N shifted on the bed until she was laying on her stomach with her legs ‘dancing’ in the air and opened her diary, tucking in between the pages a few of their pictures together before grabbing her pen and starting to write.

Dear Diary,

Tonight was magical.  I never thought it was possible to love someone so much or to keep falling for them every second of every day but… guess I was wrong. I know I shouldn’t love him but I can’t help it. I’ve tried to fight those feelings, I’ve tried not to dream or think about him… not to love him, but it just isn’t possible.

Watching him sing and dance tonight at that party… listening to him sing. I swear my heart was about to burst from all the emotions and feelings. And then I got on stage with him (sort of involuntary, but –) Singing the Time of Our Lives from Dirty Dancing was a bit too much for my heart and our karaoke adventure didn’t end there.  We sang and danced for so many hours, we literally closed the bar. Then he let me drive the car on our way back home and we continued singing and dancing until we got home a little over than a half hour ago. My heart is still racing like crazy because of everything that happened that night but mostly because of the moment we shared before I got in my bedroom. My hand hovered over the doorknob and his hand slid down my waist while his other hand had braced against the door and for an instant I thought he’d kiss me…and then… the moment was gone. *sigh*

Every time we are together but can’t be together a part of me dies inside. Being in his arms without actually being in his arms hurts the most. Every morning the first thing I see is him, last thing before I go to bed is him… and then he follows me into my dreams. Some days I don’t want to wake up, but I want to stay in this imaginary world where it’s just me and Kai. I know it’s not real, I know he doesn’t feel the same way about me… though sometimes his eyes change when we are together or when someone else dares to put their arms around me. But at least in that dream world we can be together, really be together. I could kiss him like I want to. Touch him like I want to…

A few knocks on the door returned her to reality and she quickly realised at some point during writing in her journal she had drifted off into a daydream of being with Kai. Y/N looked up and instantly closed her diary the second Kai popped his head through the door. Her fingers ran roughly through her tangled hair and she could feel her heart about to leap out of her chest. 6.25AM, no sleep and he still looked so absolutely perfect it actually hurt. His lips curled into a smile and he braced himself against the door frame, not taking his eyes off her.

  “Wow, you are still awake? Didn’t you sleep at all?”

  “I um… I couldn’t sleep.” she smiled, reaching for the hairbrush on her nightstand. “You are super chipper for someone who is not a morning person.”

Kai took a few steps inside her room and tossed himself on her bed. “It’s a good day.”  A light chuckle escaped his lips and he took her hairbrush from her hands, stroking her hair for a second while muttering a spell. “There… all fixed.”

  “Kai – “

  “How did you even get it that messy? It would’ve taken you ages to fix it.”he said amused. “I wish I was –” he cleared his throat. “Anyways, get dressed. We are going to be late for classes.” he jumped up heading towards the door.

  “Since when do you care about classes?!” she questioned, quickly pulling a set of new clothes onto her bed.

  “Since there is a photography assignment and I cannot wait to get my hands on the prettiest model.” he stopped at the door, watching her undo her belt and then the button and zipper of her jeans before she lightly tugged on her shirt. “Hmmm –”

Y/N looked up at him. “Do you mind?”

  “No.” he said not moving an inch from his spot, almost undressing her with his eyes. “Not at all. Keep going. I can watch you strip all day –”  

Y/N turned around, grabbed one of her pillows and threw it at him. “Get out!”

Kai laughed, catching the pillow mid-air before flicking his wrist and returning it to its place on her bed. Y/N stood there waiting for him to leave until he finally raised his hands in defense and walked out of her bedroom. A sigh left her lips and she started to pull her shirt over her head when the door opened and she saw his face in the mirror. In a flash she ran towards the door, pushed him out into the hallway and locked it.

  “You do know I have magic and I can unlock that with a snap of my fingers, right?” he called out.

  “Not if you want to keep your heart.” she called back, her lips curling into a small smile as she shook her head and whooshed around the room changing quickly in a black skirt and a white shirt. Y/N grabbed her jacket and messenger bag, looking around the room. Her diary was on her bed lightly tangled in the sheets but it was already almost 7AM and they really were going to be late. She opened the door and almost screamed when she turned around and Kai was there, resting his back against the wall with his hands folded on his chest. “Damn it.”

Kai laughed under his breath, wounding a hand around her waist. “Two months and I still catch you off guard. Wow –”

  “Ugh…” she rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the way Kai’s fingertips brushing against her skin made her feel. “So, who is your mystery girl? Katie or Annie? You seem to have them, and every girl on campus wrapped around your finger…”

  “Not every girl.” he sighed, leaning in to whisper in her ear while they made their way to their kitchen/living room. “It’s someone else.”

  “Lucky her.” she muttered, watching Kai whoosh himself around their small apartment. Before she had had the time to blink twice he stood before her with a to-go coffee cup and a brown bag with her lunch in his hands. “Thanks.” she smiled, looking at what he had packed for her. That was definitely new.

  “It’s avocado/veggie/sprouts wrap. Don’t worry.” he tapped her nose, grabbed his jacket and bag. “No poor defenseless animals were harmed in making your lunch.”

  “I love you –” she blurted out, almost instantly feeling all air being pulled out of her lungs. Though she couldn’t deny it felt more than nice to say it out loud. “—f-for making me lunch and coffee, I mean.”

Kai grinned at her, locking the door before both of them headed down the stairs. “Any time.”

  “So, when do I get to meet your mystery girl?” she wondered, taking a sip from her coffee.

  “Soon. Very soon.” he reached in his jacket pocket. “Damn, I forgot my car keys. I’ll be right back.”

Y/N watched as he disappeared in a second and pulled out her phone, walking out the building’s entrance before heading to the small bakery nearby. Hearing him speak about that still mystery girl had made a crack in her heart and her mind kept spinning at the thought who she might be. There were so many girls who were constantly throwing themselves on him, it could be just about any one of them. There were barely any people in the bakery that early in the morning and a few minutes later she walked out with her favorite breakfast snack.

‘You whoosh, you lose.’ she texted him with a picture of the chocolate cupcake in her hands.

‘So, mean.’ he texted her back a few seconds later. ‘I still can’t find the keys…’

‘Chill, we can whoosh there.’

Kai smiled at his screen and tucked in his phone back in his jeans’ pocket. “Ugh why are the jeans so tight when the phones are so big?!”

He whooshed around the apartment, almost turning it upside down looking for his keys which were nowhere to be seen until the only place left to look was her bedroom. Carefully he pushed the door open and looked around, noticing them glistening in the sun rays by her night stand next to her jeans. A sigh of relief left his lips and he quickly picked them up, only then remembering Y/N had been the one driving. Last night, he thought, and his lips instantly curled into a smile. That had been something and it had been the closest he had ever gotten to kiss her but as usual they had gotten interrupted and he had missed the moment. Now he couldn’t stop thinking about it, or smiling about it.

Last thing he thought would happen to him had been falling in love. After doing the merge and finally getting his revenge on his family there had been a list of things he had expected and wanted out of life. Things he had spent years wanting to do and learn, among which had been to get a degree is something he really loved – photography. Who would’ve guessed that his roommate would not only be a supernatural creature like him, but also the most beautiful and kindest person he had ever met? Or that the second he first saw her something inside him would stir and would keep stirring day after day until all he could think about or dream about was her? Y/N had accepted him straight away… though for a moment after figuring out he was a vampire they had had their ‘rough’ patch thought they had made it through it and were now best friends… though he wished they could be more. He wished they could be together. Just the two of them and no one else.

A sigh left his lips and for a moment he glanced at her bed – the messy sheets, her hairbrush and clothes from last night resting on a pile on and around it. It wasn’t like her but they had been in such a hurry –

Kai pulled on the sheets in an attempt to fix them for her when something fell on the ground.  A book. He bent over to pick it up and when he took the already open book something caught his attention. His name was on top of the page and in the course of the two sides it was mentioned like 10 times.  “No, I shouldn’t –” he started to close it when his curiosity won over.

He sat on her bed and started reading, flipping page after page while his mind soaked every word until realization struck and his lips curled into a smile. His phone buzzed and he reached in his pocket, realizing it’s been almost an hour. A text message from her popped on the screen:

‘Where are you?! The prof is ready to rip your head off unless you are here in the next 5 minutes –‘

_________________________________________

Y/N sat on the couch with a few textbooks on her lap and her phone resting on the coffee table. Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment and she felt someone’s hands rub her shoulders. His hands, there was no mistaking them. A quiet moan tumbled off her lips feeling his breath on her neck and then his lips touched her bare skin sending a wave of electric through her body. For a moment she tensed and then she melted under his touch. All of the sudden her textbooks vanished from her lap and a shadow was cast over her. Y/N opened her eyes and her breath got caught in her throat. There he was, Kai – looking at her with his brilliantly beautiful blue eyes, though they were a little darker in that moment.  He leaned over her, his lips hovering over hers for a moment while he uncrossed her legs and she felt his body weight against hers. His hands slid under her shirt, starting to pull it over her head when she gripped his wrist, shaking her head.  Y/N started to say something but he wouldn’t allow her to. His lips pressed against hers, anxious and greedy, craving more the more they got until she pulled his shirt over his head. Neither of them said a word as they continued to undress each other and even though she knew they shouldn’t be doing this, the longer his lips were on hers and his hands were on her body, the more all control slipped through her fingers. Day dreaming, night dreaming about him – every single image, every single desire she had about him let loose. Her fingers tangled in his hair and a quiet moan escaped her lips feeling his mouth on her core inhaling and exhaling sharply before bit on her panties and his lips/tongue spent the following minutes driving her out of her mind. His name constantly rolled out of her lips, her hips pushed down on him and she pushed his mouth further, wanting more of the magic his tongue and lips were doing. His fingers slid inside her, slowly exploring every inch over and over again while his sucked and tugged on her clit until her orgasm tore through her body… and then another and another until she begged for him, to feel him inside her. Slowly his lips trailed their way up her body until their eyes were on the same level. He kissed her passionately, filling her in with one heavy thrust going in harder and faster every time, their lips barely parting with each other –

Sounds of her alarm broke through her dream haze and sleepily she rolled in the sheets reaching for her clock when she tumbled off the bed onto the floor, feeling her the wetness in her panties from everything that had happened in her dream. A quiet groan of disappointment left her lips and as she started to get up when the sounds of music playing quite loudly in the house reached her. Awake or asleep, he was always there and at the moment her favorite song was playing. Her lips curled into a smile as she got up, not even bothering to put on her PJ bottoms.

Y/N trailed her fingers on the wall on her way to the living room/kitchen and stopped for a moment resting her back against the wall anticipating what she was surely to see there. Her werewolf hearing was enough for her to know he was dancing around while making breakfast judging by the smell of bacon and coffee filling in the air. Carefully she took a peak and her eyes widened. There he was, a few steps away from the stove with a pancake flying up in the air and a goofy smile on his face. He spun around whooshing himself to the cupboard to grab a plate returning just in time for the pancake to land perfectly in the plate.

Y/N watched him dancing in his underwear, singing along to one of his favorite songs and bit her lip. Damn, did he had to be this perfect? It was driving her completely insane how without trying he could do all those things to her. Her eyes fluttered closed for a second as she got lost in a fantasy about him when suddenly he grabbed her hand and twirled her around in the kitchen, dipping her for a second before pulling her towards him. They stared into each other’s eyes for a long moment while she tried to catch her breath.

   “Morning.“ he grinned. “Enjoyed the show?”

   “No.” she lied, a tingly feeling spreading through her body at his touch. “You and your dancing woke me up. Next time, try headphones or your ‘prettiest’ model will need a ton of make up to not look like a zombie.”

   “Awh but music is supposed to be loud and ruckus. And you always look absolutely breathtaking.“ he let go off her, grabbing the plate from the counter. “Breakfast?”

   “Thanks.“ she smiled sitting on the table, hugging one of her knees and reached for the maple syrup when she noticed the look in his eyes. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Kai shook his head, pursuing his lips for a moment. “Oh um… Nothing. Just your … outfit is quite distracting.”

Y/N glanced at her clothes and put her leg down. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to distract you.” she cut out her pancakes while Kai walked right past her trailing his finger on her collarbone and her skin flamed up instantly.

   “You know you look so hot wearing just a shirt.” he whispered in her ear, his breath ticking her skin. “Though you would’ve looked hotter if it were my shirt.”

   “Wha-what are you talking about?“ she asked, trying to calm down her breathing. "Why would I be wearing your shirt?”

   “Oh –” he smirked, leaning in against the kitchen counter. He waved his hand over it and a moment later her journal appeared there. “—are we going to play the ‘I have no idea what you are talking about’ game, little wolf? ”

Her eyes widened as she watched him take a sip of his coffee before he took her journal and opened the hard cover. Kai looked up from the page watching her struggling not to get up. Golden amber veins flickered under her eyes and her heartbeat increased when the second he opened to the bookmarked page.

   “Dear Diary,” he started. “Living with Kai is pure torture. How am I supposed to keep myself in check when he keeps walking around shirtless when I try to study or when he pops out of nowhere and his hands wander all over my body accidentally, making me feel like I am on fire all the time? *deep sigh*”

   “H-how did you get that?”

   “What wouldn’t I give for one kiss… for one touch.” he looked up at her. “For just one night or for one of those many dreams I’ve had about us to be real. To wake up and turn around to find myself tangled in the sheets with him… to wake up in his arms. I know those dreams are just my sub-conscience giving me what I crave so desperately, but I want it to be real so much –’” he tapped the page with his fingers and smirked at her. “It’s so cute how you write about me in your diary, expressing all your feelings… writing down every single naughty dream you’ve had about me to ‘keep it safe, in case you forget’ which won’t happen because the moment you see me ‘it keeps replaying over and over again’ in your head.“

   “That’s um – that’s for creative writing class.” she got up slowly, almost walking like a cat towards him while trying hard to keep her breathing and heartrate in check. Her eyes darted all over his body and the more she tried to keep them away, the more it seemed her gaze was just glued on him and his toned torso. Everything she had dreamt about kept pushing through to the surface, starting to drown her –

   “Sure it is. I mean –” he took a sip from his coffee. “—your teacher would definitely love reading how watching the water drip slowly down my naked body while I shower is enough to get your skin to turn on fire almost as if you were in Hell. How knowing you can’t have me is driving you out of your mind… and all you can think about is kissing me, touching me. Having my hands on your body and your lips on my –” His lips formed a small letter ‘o’, he licked his lip and lightly shook his head.   “You naughty, naughty girl.” he cooed. “I don’t know what I am more upset about – that you watched me shower or that you watched and didn’t join me.”

   “My teacher is very open minded.“ she reached for her diary and instantly he lifted it up in the air.

   “Sure, he is.” he snaked his hand around her waist holding against him. “You know, if you wanted me to ‘kiss your neck, bite you and pull you hair, trace your spine and hold you down while my fingers and tongue work their magic on you until you shake over and over again under my touch’ all you had to do was ask. I’d that and so much more.”

   “Wow… cocky much?”

   “Very much –” he rested his forehead on hers. “You know what I want in that moment? To rip that shirt off you, pin you against the table and have you for breakfast.”

Y/N lifted herself on her toes and grabbed her diary. Kai leaned in towards her attempting to kiss her but she pulled away, shaking her head. His grip on her tightened and he tried to kiss her again when she pushed him off her and left her diary on her chair, lightly bending over to give him a tiny peek at what he wanted but couldn’t have. He took a step towards her, lightly brushing his fingertips against her bare skin and wound one hand around her waist, the other wrapping around her neck.

Kai pulled her towards him, turning her face until their lips hovered over each other and tried to kiss her again when in a split second she had him pinned against the floor. Y/N ran her hands on his bare chest, lightly scratching at him with her claws but hard enough to draw blood, until her hand reached his boxers. Her lips curled in a devilish smile and she gave him a light squeeze through the fabric, feeling how hard he had gotten. A quiet moan tumbled off his lips and she smirked, leaning in towards him until they were nose to nose.  Slowly she brushed her fingertips against his scruff and put her hand on the back of his head.

   “Going through my stuff?” she chucked, shaking her head. “So naughty, even for you –”

Kai slid his hands down her back to her ass and pulled her towards him, making her crotch grind on his. “I want you.”

Y/N leaned in closer, whispering in his ear. “It’s good to want things, Malachai…” she started when he grabbed her trying to pin her to the ground when she whooshed and put things in reverse holding his hands on either side of his head. “I bet you want to move a little higher until I am standing on your face –”

Kai hummed, biting his lip and grabbed her hips quite literally sending waves of electricity coursing through her veins the second he touched her bare skin. His crotch pushed up at hers at the same time his hands slipped under her shirt, his touch sending shivers all through her body. Y/N gripped his wrists, pinned them over his head and leaned in over him, lightly straddling him.

   “You are driving me mad, Y/N.” he whispered, his eyes darting between her eyes and her lips. “I want you –”

   “No.” she almost forced the word out of her lips, his words echoing in her mind. They were all alone, they could do everything they wanted. Keep it a secret… but secrets like that had a way to get out. For instance, if it came to a unification ceremony… or something much less complicated like her seeing another girl try to get close to him. Her temper was barely in check seeing all those girls try to get what she wanted.

   “You want me.” he said quietly, intertwining their fingers together. Y/N shook her head. “I know you do –” he insisted, attempting to put things in reverse. Golden amber veins flickered under her eyes for a second and she leaned in even closer until their lips were almost touching. “God, how much I want to kiss you right now…”

Y/N straddled him a little harder, getting lost in her thoughts and the dream she had had earlier. Something felt so familiar or maybe it was because a part of her was letting go in that moment, starting to give in to her desires. She could feel him getting harder under her and her concentration was getting broken, her control slipping through her fingers.  How much she wanted to kiss him, to feel his hands on her naked body –

   “Kai –” she semi-moaned when suddenly he rolled on top of her, putting things in reverse. His hot breath hit her face, her legs involuntarily wound around his waist holding him towards her while his crotch grinded against hers a little harder – “We can’t –”

   “I know.” he almost whispered. “But that doesn’t mean we haven’t–”

Y/N pushed him off her and headed towards her bedroom when he caught up with her and pinned her against the wall. Kai pressed his body against hers and rested his forehead on hers. “It wasn’t a dream.” he whispered. “Not last night. Not the night before… or the night before that.”

   “What?”

   “You really can’t see it, can you? Do you really think I’d act so over protective of you every time some guy gets near you or that I’d get out of my way to make sure we end up having to do every single assignment together?” he sighed. “I don’t want to share you with anyone. I …I know it’s a selfish thing to do but… I love you.” he said softly, gazing into her eyes. “I’ve loved you since the moment we first met and I know we can’t happen in the real world, though I’d gladly break the rules. Die if I have to just to be with you, to kiss you once… But I know how much your pack means to you. There is no rule against us doing things in dreams, is there?”

   “I suppose not.” she said quietly, the corners of her lips twitching at his words. He loved her back! He had fallen in love with her the same moment she had fallen for him… and he hadn’t said a thing. “See you tonight?”

   “No.” he shook his head. “We are taking an afternoon nap.”

   “So impatient.” she teased, her hands hovering over his bare chest. So close they were almost touching him. “But it’s barely 10AM –”

Kai laughed under his breath and scooped her up into his arms, carrying her back to the kitchen. He let her sit on one of the chairs and sat on the other next to her, reaching to hold her hand. A quiet sigh left her lips and she took his hand, glancing at him then at the clock. Without warning she got up and sat on his lap, feeling his arms wound around her waist instantly.

   “Four hours.” he whispered in her ear. “I’m not letting you out of my arm until then.” _________________________________________ note: I may have strayed from the original idea a bit. I hope you still like it though ❤❤❤ _________________________________________

MASTERLIST - SMUT MASTERLIST - FLUFF

[babylon-bitch]

Just Friends ~ In Sync (part 47)

A/N: This is probably one of my favourite chapters so far and i actually did the drawing part when I was a kid with my neighbour

Harper White is best friends with Luke Hemmings, they always have been. Not only is she friends with the rockstar, but with the rest of 5 Seconds Of Summer, as well as a really nice girl named Erika.

Harper has a few secrets, she can play all the instruments the boys play and many more. It’s a talent she has kept hidden, only very few people know.

What will happen to the six teens, wondering around the world together?

***

Slamming my door closed and collapsing on my bed, not having enough energy to take anything in, just staring up at the ceiling, where there is a faint sign of pen on the ceiling. I thought it’d be a good idea to colour my ceiling so it wouldn’t feel left out.

“Do you ever think the ceiling gets lonely or feels upset because the walls get more attension?” Little Luke asks.

“Yeah, I think so, I would, although I think it might hurt to have pins pushed into you.” Harper points out.

“What if you used blue tack?” I suggest.

“Yes! You’re so smart Lucas!” She exclaims. “Why don’t we colour in the ceiling?”

“Oh my God yes!” I stand up and jump on my bed in excitement.

“Okay, so we need somthing for us to stand up on.” She says.

“Yeah I’ll do that, whilst you pick a colour.” I order.

After a while, I come back with a washing basket and my washing hamper. “I got these, take your pick.” I tell her.

“I want the hamper,” she points to it, “I got loads of pens, I even got one of my glitter pens.”

“Really? You only use those for special things.” I say with a bubbly voice.

“This is special, we’re making art.” She seriously states.

I put the washing basket and the hamper on the bed, before standing on my designated podium.

“Luke, I don’t think I can do this.” Harper quietly whines.

“It’s fine.” I tell her.

“Your’s is smaller than mine!” She cries.

“It’s alright Harp, I’ll hold your hand.” I bribe and hold my hand put.

“Are you sure?” She asks and stares at my hand with an unconvinced look.

“Yeah, I pinky promise.” I hold my pinky up.

“You won’t let go?” She asks.

“No.” I shake my head and we link pinkies. “Ready?” I question.

She nervously nods her head and takes my hand, I help her up and help her stand up steady. “You okay?” I ask.

“Yep.” She nods and I let go of her hand once she is stable.

“What colour first?” I ask.

“Red!” She squeals.

“Okay, you do that and I’m gonna do green.”

We begin to colour the ceiling, switching colours when we’re satisfied with our work. When suddenly the door opens making us both jump and we freeze.

“What are you doing?” My Mum asks, trying to suppress a smile.

“Uh, nothing.” We both say in unison.

“Okay, that tells me you did something.”

“It was Harper’s idea,”

“It was Luke’s idea,”

We say at the time and she shakes her head with a sigh. “Luke! Harper! We’re never gonna be able to cover that up!”

“That’s the idea.” Harper deadpans and my mum shakes her head, before helping Harper get down again.

Harper’s P.O.V.

I’ve brought the box of pictures into my room so I could cry I alone. I’ve done way too much crying for my liking recently. Holding a picture of Luke and I to my chest, as I sob, trying to remeber what it feels like to be happy. That seems like such a life time ago when everything was okay.

I sometimes wish this all never happened and I never dated Luke, then again, I’m glad I did, because he was the first person I loved and your first love is always gonna be special, and I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather share that experience with. That being said, that’s what’s made this all harder than it needs to be; it’s Luke. If I didn’t have such a long and happy past with him, this would be so much more less painful.

But your first is always gonna be hard to let go of.

I still have his hoodie, despite the zipper being broken, and the cigarette burns from when Calum and him were messing around, it makes me feel closer to him although I don’t want to see him; at least that’s what I’m telling myself. I somtimes wear it on an especially bad day, it kinda helps me, it kinda makes it worse. Then I want to laugh and cry at myself because I’m getting sentimental over a piece of clothing that belongs to my ex boyfriend.

I’ve still got a few of his clothes here at my family house, a few shirts, a pair of socks as well as a lone sock, and for some reason a belt. I’ve got some random stuff left behind from when he’d stayed the night or somthing along the lines of that, a nearly empty pot of hair wax, a few of his bracelets, a pair of shoes, his hairbrush, and a ring.

I put his ring on a necklace at one point, but I had to take it off because it just reminded me of him every time I looked down. Which I find myself doing a lot, because of the sympathetic and pity stares.

I want to give this all back just so I can see him again, but I don’t think I’d be able to handle seeing him again, I’d just turn into a fucking bigger mess that I already am in front of him.

I’ve not got a clue how Luke’s dealing with this all, I’ve seen a few fan/paparazzi pictures the few times I’ve even on my phone and he looks fine, got faint bags undr his eyes, but that’s probably because he’s tired, he also could of just plastered on a fake smile, and I know how good he is at that, but I could be wrong. I was in some random shop on my way back from a lecture to pick up some stuff for my lonely dinner, when I strolled past the magazine section, and I saw a picture of Luke and I plastered on the front cover of some teen magazine, with a huge cartoon tear down the middle where hour hands were intertwined. I wanted to buy the whole stack and throw them off a cliff, burn them, tear them into shreds, anything to destroy that shitty magazine that was probably filled with fake articles.

Pulling his hoodie closer to me so I can feel closer to him, his scent is still on it, it’s faint, but I can still smell it, filling me with a sense of safety and sadness. A few tears slide down my cheeks like a sad, vicious snake and onto my sweater paws, which are easily made because the sleeves are too long for me, but that’s what makes it feel better.

“I miss you Luke.” I whimper.

***

“ You’d probably think I was psychotic (If you knew) What I still got in my closet (Sad but true) I slip it on over my shoulders It’s something I’ll never get over It makes me feel a little bit closer to you

I can’t keep your love I can’t keep your kiss Gave you everything and all I got was this

I’m still rocking your hoodie And chewing on the strings It makes me think about you So I wear it when I sleep I kept the broken zipper And cigarette burns Still rocking your hoodie Baby, even though it hurts Still rocking your…

I used to put my hand in your pockets (holding on) The smell of your cologne is still on it (but you’re still gone) I slip it on over my shoulders You’re someone I’ll never get over It makes me feel a little bit closer to you

I can’t keep your love I can’t keep your kiss Gave you everything and all I got was this

I’m still rocking your hoodie And chewing on the strings It makes me think about you So I wear it when I sleep I kept the broken zipper And cigarette burns Still rocking your hoodie Baby, even though it hurts

Still rocking your hoodie And chewing on the strings It makes me think about you So I wear it when I sleep I kept the broken zipper And cigarette burns Still rocking your hoodie Baby, even though it hurts Still rocking your…

If you want it back If you want it back I’m here waiting Come and take it back Come and take it back

If you want it back If you want it back I’m here waiting Come and take it back Come and take it back

I’m still rocking your hoodie And chewing on the strings It makes me think about you So I wear it when I sleep I kept the broken zipper And cigarette burns Still rocking your hoodie Baby, even though it hurts

I’m still rocking your hoodie And chewing on the strings It makes me think about you So I wear it when I sleep I kept the broken zipper And cigarette burns Still rocking your hoodie Baby, even though it hurts

Still rocking your hoodie And chewing on the strings It makes me think about you So I wear it when I sleep I kept the broken zipper And cigarette burns Still rocking your hoodie Baby, even though it hurts Still rocking your (hoodie).”

Finishing the final words attempting to swallow the lump in my throat and hold back my tears, but completely failing and the tears come cascading down my cheeks.

“Fuck you,” I whisper to myself, trying to mean it but I can’t find anything in me to state it as a true emotion.

***

Luke’s P.O.V.

“I drove by all the places we used to hang out getting wasted I thought about our last kiss, how it felt, the way you tasted And even though your friends tell me you’re doing fine

Are you somewhere feeling lonely even though he’s right beside you? When he says those words that hurt you, do you read the ones I wrote you?

Sometimes I start to wonder, was it just a lie? If what we had was real, how could you be fine?

‘Cause I’m not fine at all

I remember the day you told me you were leaving I remember the make-up running down your face And the dreams you left behind you didn’t need them Like every single wish we ever made I wish that I could wake up with amnesia And forget about the stupid little things Like the way it felt to fall asleep next to you And the memories I never can escape

‘Cause I’m not fine at all

The pictures that you sent me they’re still living in my phone I’ll admit I like to see them, I’ll admit I feel alone And all my friends keep asking why I’m not around

It hurts to know you’re happy, yeah, it hurts that you’ve moved on It’s hard to hear your name when I haven’t seen you in so long

It’s like we never happened, was it just a lie? If what we had was real, how could you be fine?

‘Cause I’m not fine at all

I remember the day you told me you were leaving I remember the make-up running down your face And the dreams you left behind you didn’t need them Like every single wish we ever made I wish that I could wake up with amnesia And forget about the stupid little things Like the way it felt to fall asleep next to you And the memories I never can escape

If today I woke up with you right beside me Like all of this was just some twisted dream I’d hold you closer than I ever did before And you’d never slip away And you’d never hear me say

I remember the day you told me you were leaving I remember the make-up running down your face And the dreams you left behind you didn’t need them Like every single wish we ever made I wish that I could wake up with amnesia And forget about the stupid little things Like the way it felt to fall asleep next to you And the memories I never can escape

‘Cause I’m not fine at all No, I’m really not fine at all Tell me this is just a dream ‘Cause I’m really not fine at all.”

Stepping away from the microphone and letting the tears freely fall down my cheek, not bothering to suppress them.

“Fuck you for ever being in my life.” I whisper to myself, not meaning a single word of it, I’m not even gonna try to convince myself to believe that.

Fuck me for putting myself in this train wreck of a situation.

***

Harper’s P.O.V.

Quietly closing the door behind and keeping my head down, hands shoved in my pockets, kicking a small stone, scuffing my shoes in the process.

I don’t exactly have a destination, I’m just going where my heart takes me; which could be anywhere really.

I notice a familiar figure on the other side of the road, nearly mirroring my actions. I can’t quite recognise who it is, but my mind might be so messed up that I’m just imagining that I recognise them, I mean, who would be out at 2am?

Ignoring them and pulling my phone out, deciding to text the group chat, because some of them must be up.

Me: Hello

Tori: hi

Juliet: heyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

Me: how is everyone?

Juliet: alright, I guess.

Tori: same, you?

Me: fine

Jake: where have you even been?

Me: places

Tori: are you even alive?

Me: debatable

Not in the mood for their questions, I plug in my earphones and put my playlist on shuffle, and it just so happenes to be a really fucking sad one.

After 10 minutes of randomly walking around, I end up by boulevard view. The person that was on the other side of the road left me a while ago, they went down an alleyway that Luke and I used to go down to get to boulevard view quicker. I got a little worried a couple times, because it’s late and they just so happened to follow me for a while, but that went away as soon as I lost him. They didn’t even look back at me once, so I don’t even know why I got so anxious, at least I didn’t seen them look at me.

Turning right and entering one of my favourite places in the world, it’s just so calming to look down at everything, it all looks so small and for some reason that makes me calm. Especially at night when everything is lit up, the clear skies with planes going over every now and then, and the very faint sound of traffic.

Noticing a silhouette very similar to the person earlier makes me freeze. Suddenly recognising that posture and hair anywhere, causing my breathing to hitch.

Holy shit, how?

My feet take me to his direction and I don’t even stop myself.  

Shuffling over and sitting down next to him in the dusty dirt, leaving a gap between us.

“What are the odds.” We say in unison after 10 minutes of silence.

“Oh my God.” I chuckle quietly.

“So, uh, how have you been?” Luke questions.

“Alright.” I mumble. “How about you?”

“Fine.” He nods his head.

“Good.” I nod my head and lean on the railing with crossed arms.

“How long are you here for?” He asks.

“I’ve got two days left, well one full day.” I answer. “How about you?” I question.

“I’ve got 5 or 6 more days left, I’m so jetlagged I don’t even know anymore.” He bitterly chuckles.

“How’s tour treating you?” I ask.

“Great, it’s been so fun. It can somtimes be hard to experience it, because my mind is somewhere else. I often feel as though I’m not really there, physically I am, but mentally it’s hard to actually focus on it and thoroughly enjoy it.” He explains and I nod. “How’s university going?”

“Fine, kinda hard to focus on schoolwork when all this other stuff is going on, but besides that it’s going well, I guess.” I shrug.

“I saw you’ve been going out a lot, are you being careful?”

“Why would you care?” I ask with a little temper.

“I still care about you, I’m always going to, no matter how mad you are at me.” He says.

“I’m fine.” I huff. “You’ve been out a lot too.”

“I know, and I’ve been out whilst with friends.”

“And you think I’ve been going out alone?” I ask.

“I didn’t say that.” He sighs.

“It’s what you were implying.” I repeat his tone of voice.

He huffs and leans on the railing as well, resting his chin on his arms.

Silence clouds over us and it’s a little awkward but mainly it’s comfortable, and I didn’t know how much I craved this moment until I experienced it.

“Remember the time we did this on Christmas eve when we were 15?” Luke speaks up again.

“Yeah, you almost fell out the window when we were sneaking out.” I chuckle at the memory.

“It’s not my fault I have legs.” He exclaims.

“Then who’s is it?”

“My parents, they made me.”

“Luke!” I hit his shoulder. “Ew, now I’ve got a mental image, something I’ve never wanted to picture.” I cry out.

“Sorry.” He laughs.

“They’re your parents!” I tell him.

“Really? I’d never of known.” He replies.

“Don’t come at me with your sarcasm.” I playfully glare at him.

“You love it.” He smiles and pulls me into him and I rest my head against his shoulder, almost like a reflex.

I think I need this, this closure, I’m not entirely sure what this is closing, but I need this. Maybe it’s reducing the wound on my heart.

I wonder if he needs this as much as I need it.

This isn’t awkward or uncomfortable, it feels normal almost right, even if this hurts right now. I might regret this later, and I might be digging myself into a deeper hole, but I need to feel home again. I’ve felt homeless ever since we broke up, and I don’t care if I get evicted after this moment is open.

“Do you hate me?” Luke questions.

“I don’t hate you, it just hurts too much to be around you right now.”

[miraculoustrashblogger]

Season of Miracles Chapter 12

It’s the second last chapter!  What’s this?  A reveal?  Romance?  Alya freaking the fuck out?  Ding ding ding!

Chapter 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 X  13

AO3

December 26th

Chat Noir leapt through the air, taking a somersaulting dive onto a roof, before leaping up again and vaulting over his baton to the next roof.  The Eiffel tower was lit, as were the street lamps on the dark winter night.

He thought back to his day and chuckled.

He had begun the morning wondering if it had all been a dream.  It seemed far too good to be true, but upon seeing the video frame his father had given him, alongside his gifts from his other friends, he knew there was no way it wasn't real.

That knowledge was compounded by the fact that when he went downstairs to eat breakfast, his father was sitting at the table reading the newspaper.  Even better, he set the paper aside and the two chatted while they ate breakfast.  Gabriel had decided to come to the photo shoot and spend the day with him, after all, and shortly after they ate, they were out the door.

Arriving at the studio, several usually quite amicable staff members seemed quite nervous.  Adrien was used to having many of the same staff members in charge of wardrobe, makeup and lighting, so they had had a lot of time to get over the fact that his father was their boss, and treat him like a normal teen.  Gabriel's presence clearly changed the atmosphere into one of efficient professionalism, much like the one Gabriel exuded most days.

Otherwise, the shoot went as normal, until after lunch break.

Gabriel was looking over the wardrobe collection for the shoot, when he noticed something.

“I do not recall approving these for the shoot.”  He said, holding up two outfits, in their open garment bags.

One of the interns paled.  “A-ah, that's mine, sir.”

“And what is it doing in the line-up here?”  Gabriel asked coolly.

“I-I umm-- You see, I'm friends with the photographer, and it was a personal project I was doing, and he agreed to take photos when we were done today if I found someone to model them--”

“You designed these?”

“Yessir!”  Her face couldn't seem to decide if it wanted to be ghost white or strawberry red.

“And you put them side by side with the garments for todays work, why?”

“T-there was no where else to hang them up...sir.”

“What if they had been mixed up with pieces for the shoot?”  He asked sternly.

“I knew that was a possibility, but I made sure anyone who was handling the clothes knew they were mine.  Including the supervisor, Yvonne.”

Gabriel looked around. “Yvonne!”  When the woman came over to where he stood, he held up the garments to her.  “What are these pieces here?”  He asked her.

“They are Elise's.”

“So you are aware they were put side by side with the pieces for today?”

“She explained it to me before she hung them up.  What her and the photographer do outside of company hours is their business, I saw no harm as long as everyone knew.”  Elise had gone pale again, and even Yvonne seemed to be threatening to sweat under his scrutiny.

Gabriel pulled out the items from their bag and looked them over.  He tugged gently at seams, examined stitches, and felt the fabric under his hands.

“Elise, what is this personal project of yours?”  Gabriel raised a brow.

“Oh!  Um.. I uh....” She turned beet red again.

“Spit it out.”

“I-I'mbuildingaportfolio!” She stammered.

“A portfolio?”

“Yes... I uh... was going to apply for full time work after my internship finished, and I wanted to show what I learned during my time with your company.  My old portfolio has become a bit dated in styles, and I can sew a lot better now, so I was building up a collection, and wanted to show my work was good enough to be modeled too.”  Her voice slowly dropped off in volume, until she was barely heard.

Gabriel pondered at the girl, who was now staring at the ground, her hands pulling at the hem of her blouse.

“Were going to apply to my company?  Tell the truth.”

“Yes... among others.”  She answered.  “I wanted to keep my options open, as I figured not all of them would say yes to me.”

He examined the clothes again.  It was a detailed dressy black vest with zippers and a forest green liner, paired with dress slacks and a light green button up.  The buttons and zippers all matched--gold-- and the cuffs of the dress shirt matched the green liner of the vest.

“Adrien, go change into these.”  He handed him the garment bags.

“Ah, sir!”  Elise interrupted.  Gabriel looked at her with one eyebrow raised.  “It's just... only one of those will probably fit him.  The blue one is meant for someone larger.”

“Ah.  I see.  What was the theme you were going for?”

“I was kind of thinking a pair of brothers, sir.  We have a few male models here today, and I hoped that if I could find two that looked close enough, it would do.  I mean, I knew it might not happen, so I was ready to work with what I had, so...”

Gabriel took back the outfits and examined the blue one.

“Familial bonds, yes?  That was the theme you wanted for the photos?”

“Yessir.”

“Very well, I will wear it.”  And he started over to the changing area.

Elise looked like she was about ready to faint.

Gabriel and Adrien ended up doing a series of photos together, wearing the matching outfits.  The sky blue shirt and royal blue and silver accents of the vest suited Gabriel very well.  The fits were close enough that it only required a little bit of tailoring, which Elise attended to quickly and skillfully.

When they finished the shoot, Gabriel returned the outfits to Elise, who seemed to have actually fainted somewhere during the process.  She was fanning herself and had gone pale again, and Yvonne and another intern were puttering over her as she sat in a chair.

“May I please speak with Miss Elise alone please?”  Yvonne and the intern seemed surprised, and after assurances that the girl was fine, they left.

“I should hope now that if anyone sees your portfolio and sees the faces of myself and my son, that it should earn you enough respect to get hired in any company you choose.  I do hope, however, that you will choose mine. I would hate to lose such a talented employee.”

The girl was flustered and stammered out her thank you's and praises of his kindness.

As he walked away he gestured for Adrien to follow.  They left the shoot and climbed into the car, before Gabriel spoke quietly.  “That, Adrien, is how you build a team that is loyal.  That girl will remember my actions for a long time to come, and even if one day she is my biggest competitor, I can trust she won't stab me in the back.”  He looked down and smiled at his son.

Adrien grinned.  “So you're telling me... be nice to people and they won't be jerks in return?  I think I already knew that one.”  He sassed.

Gabriel smirked, and then mussed up his son's hair.

As Chat Noir raced to his meeting place with Ladybug, his mind returned to the problem at hand.  Marinette had most likely read his poem by now, and if she was half as smart as he thought she was, he was about to get scolded pretty badly.  She had always been a stickler for secret identities, and he knew she would at least be a little mad that he figured her out and left clues about his.  Of course, if she wasn't Ladybug... well, that was a whole new can of worms.

He landed on the roof right as Marinette-- Ladybug-- did.

“Good evening, Chat Noir.”  She said nonchalantly.

He was suddenly really nervous.  He was expecting a few different ways for this to go down, and for her to be nonchalant, it most likely meant he guessed wrong.

“H-H--” He cleared his throat. “Hey Ladybug!”  He smiled.

There was the faintest trace of a smile on her lips, but it disappeared very quickly.

“Ready for patrol, Chaton?”  She asked.

“Y-Yeah.” He gulped.  “Let's go.”  The pair, Ladybug leading slightly, ran to the edge of the roof, and vaulted off.  Chat purposely fell behind a little, gauging every movement she made, looking for any hint that she knew.  Please don't let me have been wrong.  Please.

Despite his worry, watching her made his heart swell.  Marinette or not, Ladybug was a beauty-- graceful and strong and breath-taking as she swung off streetlamps, hopped across roofs, and dived off of chimneys.  The street lights reflected off of her hair, and sparkled in her eyes.

If he hadn't already been in love with her for the better part of a year, he probably would have fallen from this sight alone.

She completely ignored him as they scouted the city, apparently oblivious to his heart palpitations, keeping her eyes peeled for signs of trouble.  Her lack of signal so far was making him anxious.  Should he just rip off the band-aid and bring it up?  Should he see if she was going to say anything?

He felt there was a pun in there somewhere, something involving Shrodinger's cat, but he couldn't quite figure out how to phrase it.

Finally, the heroes paused on the rooftop of Notre Dame cathedral to take a breather.

Ladybug stretched, looking out over the city.  She walked to the edge and sat down, dangling her ankles off the side.  She patted the space next to her, gesturing for him to come join her.  He obliged.

“How was your Christmas, Chat?”  She asked.

Was this an opening?  An opportunity to ask her carefully, to open the box enough to peek at the cat and determine it's state?

“The best Christmas ever.”  He answered honestly, smiling.

“Oh? Do tell.”

Was that a mischievous twinkle in her eye?  No, must have been his imagination.

“I spent it with a very good friend of mine.”  He thought for a moment.  “She's probably the kindest person I've ever met. Stubborn too.  I don't know how she managed it, but she actually got my father to spend Christmas with me.  He hasn't done that in years. She's incredible.”  He looked very deliberately at her.

Her face turned crimson, and he took it as a sign that maybe she knew more than she was letting on.  Time to amp it up, then.

“Not only that, she's beautiful.”  He stated, carefully turning his head away, pretending he wasn't talking about the girl next to him, but watched her every move still.  “She lights up a room just by being in it, and really brings out the best in people.”

Ladybug was motionless, mouth slightly agape as she stared at him.  He turned back to look.

“What's the matter Ladybug?  Cat got your tongue?”  He grinned.  “Or is it jealousy?”  He teased.

She shook her head.  “Silly kitty.  It just really sounds a lot like you love her.”

He looked at her, held her gaze for a few moments.  He watched the night breeze brush her bangs across her forehead, watched the light twinkle in her beautiful blue eyes.

“I do.” He said softly.

A slight, sharp intake of breath from her, and he was paralyzed.  The two stared at each other, locked in a moment, both too afraid to move, too enraptured to try.  Time seemed to still, neither really sure how long they sat there, motionless, trapped in the moment. Finally, Ladybug spoke.

“I love you too, Adrien.”  She breathed.

His eyes widened.  It's her.  It's really her.  Marinette.  She's Ladybug!  His mind repeated over and over.

She said she loves me!  It finally settled on.

His hand fumbled over to hers, he refused to break eye contact to look at what he was doing.

Taking it, he felt a lot of tension leave his body.  Perhaps the worry of it not being real, the fear of waking up from this dream.  But she was corporeal, she was physically there, and it was real, so very, very real.  Adrien.  She called him.  Adrien.  He was over the moon in excitement.

“Marinette.” He whispered, smiling.

She smiled back shyly.

She is so beautiful when she smiles.  Her cheeks are so cute, and her eyes shine, and her lips...

Caught up in the thought of how soft and kissable her lips looked, and curiosity about her lipgloss flavour, Chat leaned in slowly, his eyes closing ever so slightly.  She leaned in too, and the two hovered, centimeters apart.  His free hand found it's way up to her cheek, caressing it gently.

“C-Can I-I...”  He stammered.  He breathed in, and tried again.  “Can I kis—mmph!”

Ladybug's hands went to his face and pulled him, closing the distance between the two.  Her passion triggered something in him, and once his lips began moving against hers, he was hard pressed to stop it-- not that he wanted to, really.

It turned out her lip gloss was cherry flavoured, and he smiled.  He started humming the tune to “I Kissed A Girl” until Ladybug snorted and pushed him away.

“Way to ruin the moment, Chat.”

“I'd say it was worth it, but I'm really torn.  I wasn't done yet.”  He laughed.

She smirked and rolled her eyes.  This time she leaned in slower, their kiss beginning slowly and gently.  The glide of her sweet lips against his left him breathless, and when his tongue gently swept across her lips, she returned the motion with her own.  His hands wandered down her arms while they kissed, to her waist, while one of hers buried itself in his hair, and the other rested on his chest.

After a few blissful minutes, they broke apart naturally.

“You know...”  Ladybug said, reaching up to gently boop his nose.  “I was going to try and make you sweat first.  Pretend I didn't know anything.  Kinda backfired on me though, what with you turning into such a sap.”

“Oh, you had me sweating, don't worry.”  He chuckled, sitting upright now.  “I wasn't even sure it was you, so your silence on it was super nerve-wracking.”

“Wait. You wrote me that poem, and you weren't even sure you were right?”  She said, a little sharper than she intended.

“Uh... yeah.”  He admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh no, now I really wished I had dragged that out longer. It would have been proper revenge for risking your identity!”  She playfully smacked his arm.

“To be fair, I was like, 95% sure.  There was no solid evidence, but way too many coincidences at once.”

“Ninety-five percent sure... with no solid evidence.”  She clucked her tongue. “Chat, you are clawsitively purr-paw-sterous.”  She smirked.

“Hey, now.  I was right and--- wait, did you just make a cat pun?”

“I made three, but who's counting?”  She teased.

“I love you.”  He swooned.

She snorted.  “Love you too... you mangy cat.”

“I'm your mangy cat, lovebug.  Long as you'll have me.”

“That's quite the commitment to make, seeing as I'm thinking forever.” She smiled, blushing deeply, looking off to the horizon.

He sat straighter, grinning from ear to ear.  “Furr-ever sounds purr-fect, my Lady.”

“Is it really necessary to include more puns?”

“Part of the package, bugaboo.  I wouldn't be me without my sense of humour.”

She hummed.  “I guess you don't really need your Christmas gift then...”

He perked up.  “What does my Christmas gift have to do with this?” He asked.

“Open it and find out.”  She said, handing him a moderately sized package.  Judging by the shape, size and weight, he was guessing it was a book of some kind.

“Where were you hiding this?”  He asked skeptically.

“Just open it!”

“No seriously, this is the size of my computer tablet, where did you hide this, and how did I not notice until now?”

“Oh shush.  You already know who I am under the mask, let me have some mystery, huh?”  She rolled her eyes.

He grumbled under his breath about secret pocket dimensions as he unwrapped the gift.  He had guessed right, it was a book.  A joke book, titled “No Pun Intended”.  His smile grew wider and wider.

“My Lady, here I thought you hated my puns, but you actually are supporting my habit?  I'm shocked!”

“Maybe it was never the puns I disliked and more the timing of them.”  She smirked.

He laughed.  “Alright, alright.  But you totally make puns during akuma attacks too!”

“Never!” She scoffed.  “When have I ever done such a thing?”  She gestured dramatically before breaking out in a grin.  He smiled back at her.

“I have your gift here too.”  He said, pulling out a small box.

It was a suspiciously shaped and sized box, and as Ladybug tensed up, Chat gestured for her to relax.

“I know what you're thinking, and I promise it's not that.  I mean, it is that, but it's no-- you know what?  Just open it.”

He handed her the box.  She stared at it in her hands, and his tail twitched in impatience.  She opened it cautiously, her eyes flicking to his hopeful and embarrassed expression, until she caught sight of the contents.  It was a beautiful ring, with a round red ruby, nestled in between two emerald triangular jewels.  It sort of resembled a rose with leaves, but the fact that it also looked kind of like a Ladybug on a leaf wasn't lost on her.  The band was delicate and simple silver, shaped around the gems carefully.

“It's not an engagement ring.  I may be incredibly socially awkward, but even I know it's way too early for that.  It is a promise ring, though.”  He rubbed the back of his neck.  She looked up at him, her surprise and awe apparent.  “I saw it and couldn't help but think of you, and when I began suspecting you were Marinette, and her-- your birthstone is a ruby...”  She stared at it again, and her continued silence set him on edge.  “I-If you don't like it, I can take it back and trade it for something else.  Unless the fact that it's a ring is making you uncomfortable, in which case I totally understa--”

He was silenced by her finger on his lips.

“It's perfect, Adrien.  I love it.”  She smiled, and he relaxed.  “But doesn't a promise ring require an actual promise to go with it?” She asked.

“Y-Yeah.” He stood up, pulling her to her feet too.  He took the ring from her, and knelt on one knee.  “I-- uhh... don't know if I'm actually supposed to go down on one knee for a promise ring or not, but I figure it wouldn't hurt, right?”  She giggled, and he pressed on, clearing his throat.  “Ladybug, since the day I met you, you have been the best part of every one of my days.  I know I can trust and rely on you, and seeing you being the brave, compassionate, and brilliant person you are has made me want to be the best person I can be.  I promise, for the rest of my lives, to protect you, to cherish you, and to always stand by you.  I promise to be your friend, your partner, and your reason to smile each day.”

“I accept your promise, Chat Noir.”  She smiled.  “On one condition.”

His ears twitched in surprise. “What's that?”

“You accept my promise to do the exact same for you.”  

He blushed, then grinned.  “I accept your terms, my Lady.”

He put the ring on her left hand index finger, and sighed in relief when it was the right size.  He had taken a guess-- if Alya had caught wind of him even breathing the words “ring” and “Marinette” in the same sentence, he's sure he would be deaf for a week.

As soon as the ring was on her finger all the way, she pulled him up into a kiss by his bell, and riding along her enthusiasm, he picked her up and spun her around.  She squeaked into his lips, but it just made him laugh, and soon they were both giggling and holding each other, foreheads touching.

“I love you, Bugaboo.”

“I love you too, Minou.”

“THIS IS THE BIGGEST SCOOP OF THE CENTURY!  LADYBUG AND CHAT NOIR ARE ENGAGED!  HOLY FUCK!”  Both heros heads whipped around, finally spotting the source.  Alya stood there, phone in hand, clad in pyjamas, and apparently still out of breath from running after them. “I PROBABLY JUST BROKE SEVERAL LAWS GETTING UP HERE BUT HOLY HELL WAS IT WORTH IT OH MY FUCKING GOD AND I GOT IT ON CAMERA!!!”

Ladybug and Chat Noir looked at each other in shock, snorted and laughed, and started running for the edge of the roof together, holding hands. They leapt from the roof, Alya calling after them.  As they leapt across the city, Chat spoke.

“How much trouble are we in?”  He asked.

“I think we're okay.” Ladybug replied.  “She called it an engagement ring, which means I don't think she was close enough to see the ring, hear names, or anything.  She probably only caught the last little bit.  We will see for sure when we see her next, no way she's keeping that to herself.  We can do damage control from there.”

They paused on a roof.  “Yeah, I think you're right.  Do we let her believe that Ladybug and Chat Noir are engaged though?”

“Maybe we should let her believe it.”  Ladybug suggested, smirking.  “It is only a matter of time until it's true anyways, right?”  She winked, before hopping off the roof.

Adrien stared after her, rooted to the spot.  Only a matter of time...?

He started scrambling after her.  “Ladybug!  Wait up!  What does that mean?!”

She just giggled and swung further away.

Marinette, you tease!  (I think she just stole one of Chat’s remaining lives)

Alya did indeed break into a cathedral in the middle of the night in her pyjamas.  Silly girl.  Maybe she was hoping for some Christmas canoodling!  (She certainly got her christmas wish!)

Stay tuned for the final installment of this fic!  New Years!

[guardiandae]

You know you are an adult when you get excited about buying a vaccuum cleaner... lmao. 

but in my defense, the vacuums today, even the cheap ones, are so much cooler than the shitty ones back in the day. also I would like my floor to finally be clean and my mom keeps going, “vacuums are so expensive” bitch I just spent $20 on a vaccuum it’s not hard.

ANYWAY here’s my life update:

got my hair cut, finally. It looks so much better now. no more staring at crazy split ends all day.

I found a quiz site, WHOOPS, and I’ve been quizzing myself for like a week now on African countries and now island countries because I realized I don’t know them. I don’t think they’re all sticking but my brain has been going, MOZAMBIQUE. DJIBOUTI. every day. So I now know recall MORE countries than I used to. It fuels my obsession for puzzle games + I’m learning, so. This is a step up from mind-numbing griddlers, at least.

I’m also reading A Song of Ice and Fire... it’s stupid how, for the longest time I was super intimidated by the idea of getting into these books, knowing how thick they are, how many there are in the series, and how many CHARACTERS there are to follow. I remember when I first started watching the show, I was super overwhelmed by the characters being introduced. Particularly when the Red Woman came onto the scene I was like, “The fuck is happening now??” And maybe watching the show first helped a lot with that, but like, I was really suspicious when I first cracked open a book and was like... “Is this the novel or just a screenplay???” I remember having to read so many books that were written with excruciatingly BORING detail, or such lovingly rendered descriptions of background scenery or pure daydreams that had nothing to do with the plot, that I’d get totally bogged down in the purple prose and lose track of what the hell was going on. That’s one of my biggest pet peeves of writing to this very day. But GRRM doesn’t do that, not even remotely. I thought that my writing was really simple, but GRRM’s might be even more spartan. But that only makes sense to keep it succinct and move along quickly when he’s laying out this whole huge world with several kingdoms and houses that all have their own unique cultures and beliefs and at least a dozen different major characters whose stories need to be told. I’m totally enchanted. and the FORESHADOWING, HOLY FUCK. The foreshadowing is intense, I’m kind of glad in a way that I already know what’s to come because it’s literally like the way I wrote Distance, where after you know the ending, there are so many things that take on a different light that I would’ve never even noticed, seriously. I posted them on twitter but I should maybe make posts here because AAAAGGGGGGHHH!!!!

I’m also starting to read up on beekeeping... I’ve been interested in it for a while mostly in the sense that I appreciate beekeeping (see beekeeper mumen for example) but the spring seeds came in and I was like, I want bee-friendly flowers, and then that led to, WHAT IF I BEES? and I’m the sort of person that... I had to RESTRAIN MYSELF from buying a beekeeping starting kit (BECAUSE I HAVE NO FUCKING CLUE WHAT TO DO WITH 3LBS OF LIVE BEES.. @MYSELF: DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE BUY BEES ONLINE JUST BECAUSE YOU CAN) and yeah like so anyway now I’m reading about bees and even if I decide it’s not for me (tbh I’d probably be like, “YEAH BEES” until I got to the point of trying to set up an actual fucking hive of bees and then scream and run away because BEES? and also bc I’m an idiot that thinks everything sounds awesome in theory until real life happens. BUT WHO KNOWS MAYBE I’D LIKE IT???) but anyway EVEN IF I DECIDE AGAINST THE IDEA at least I’ll have learned some stuff?

oh yeah btw I slammed the button and ordered that pricey fitbit fitness tracking watch and I really like it. I’m kind of gradually easing into more and more fitness? which feels like a “I’m being lazy” thing but honestly maybe that’s a better approach, to build up habits over time instead of overloading myself with extreme changes and then going “nope”? Basically I’ve been learning that exercise can be hella fun, experimenting with different exercises that I like and also experimenting with healthier foods to bring into my diet. btw if anyone told me a few years ago that today I’d be buying almond milk, coconut oil, organic food, and yelling, “HOW MANY CALORIES?! FUCK THAT” in the middle of the grocery store at my ex-favorite foods, I probably would’ve decked them.

alsooooo so I can’t remember if I posted about this but I know I told a few people that I studied the gay aesthetic™ hard and took notes (I wish I was fucking kidding, I literally gotta study this shit I don’t understand social things and fashions) and decided to expand my wardrobe accordingly. I’m feeling out what works and does not, and today I was FEELING IT when I got myself in the mirror. it’s that men’s pocket undershirt, I fucking swear, and I have had that all along but I never wore them by themselves I always wore them to work under my stupid work uniform. WELL NOW I’VE SEEN THE LIGHT. plus my ace ring and bracelets were good choices. today I bought better shoes as well, and dodged a bullet because like... ugh I have the worst instincts and at first I almost got these tall zippered ladies boots that were on sale like... yes they were a squeeze but??? but I was like... I think they make my legs look stubby plus the store was closing so I was like, TOO INDECISIVE FOR THIS. I ended up getting a pair of skateboard shoes on clearance and also some nice looking men’s boots instead and it cost me the same it would’ve for that one pair of boots plus get this while I was leaving the store I saw this Incredibly Straight Woman walking in with the tall zippered boots and I was like, THANK GOD I DIDN’T and then I saw ANOTHER Incredibly Straight Woman with the same boots and I was like TODAY I HAVE BEEN SPARED A FATE WORSE THAN DEATH. Like yeah gay girls can pull that off too yes but 1. not me. I’d have to get skinny jeans or leggings for that look and it’s so not me I can’t, I don’t know why the fuck I tried to go down that path 2. those tall boots weren’t even the original Aesthetic™ that I had studied for, like, I suck so bad, someone dress me bc I make bad life choices. 

but yeah, I bought two new pairs of shoes, I bought a grey shirt bc I observed that the holy grail of casual gay girls was just a plain grey shirt (much like the unrealized glory of my pocket shirts... but grey guys... I love grey...) I hope it’s a good choice tho bc you know, some cuts look great and some are like... the fuck. a VACUUM CLEANER?? ADULTING WIN?? some nice FOOD STUFFS???? lettuce-y things, even????

so now I need to do some things that I’ve been putting off..

-do my taxes (I’ve been raring to but my internet was too slow..) -pay rent -call my bank -find a local doctor -book an eye appointment -schedule a permit test -clean my fucking maybe?? that;’d be nice??? 

-maybe part with some of these clothes that just give me bad memories now... I still have so much stuff from high school and stuff that I don’t wear and stuff that I’m like ‘will I ever fit into this again’ and it’s like... like seriously for YEARS  I did not buy myself a new WARDROBE I had like enough clothes that would fit and so many old ones like, I was punishing myself for gaining so much weight and seriously it didn’t help me at all it felt so much better to just go ahead and get clothes that fit me and half of my problem is I’m poor af so I’m like, ‘but I spent money on this’ and I don’t wanna throw it out but now I think I’ll be happy when I get rid of these big clothes when they, hopefully, no longer fit me in the near future, so like... I should just toss these old bad-memories-clothes and burn them, seriously... @ me I’m talking to you asshole, burn the rags. clean your room, clean our your wardrobe, and cleanse it with fire.

[tattoosandporcelain-blog]

Barron Presley‎ to Coree Marx Getting home, imagine the man's surprise as yet another package was waiting outside. Not a strange happening but twice in one day? Ripping the envelope off the top addressed to him, he'd kick the box to the side besides the other one. Normally one to at least open them. Yet, not this time as he found his keys and let himself in.

Coree Marx Hearing the key in the door, her wait was finally over. Normally able to wait for him patiently, she couldn't do it. As he pushed the door open, she was there at it, one hand reaching out to grasp the center of his jacket, pulling him into the apartment and into her all at the same time as her free hand found the back of his neck, wasting no time in her outward expression of just how badly she needed the man.

Barron Presley Feeling her immediately at his jacket and neck, the envelope there in his fingers as he pressed the door shut with his heel behind him. Not sure she'd even ask or inquire by this point in the game. "Hi."

Coree Marx As he spoke, she'd meet his eyes, a smile sweeping her features as she looked up at him. "Hi, baby," she greeted him as the door was closed behind him, her grip remaining firm there on the front of his jacket as she took steps backwards towards the bedroom. "How was class?" she asked, wondering how bad it could have been with his girlfriend sending him suggestive texts, not yet noticing the envelope.

Barron Presley "Boring." His usual answer. "Yet oddly arousing." He'd tease as it wasn't the class at all as he let her drag him back.

Coree Marx Letting her hand slip down from his neck to find the zipper of his jacket, guiding it down as she continued luring him towards the bedroom, only realizing she couldn't pull his jacket off a moment later due to the envelope in his hand. "What's that?" she asked, pausing in her efforts long enough for him to put it down somewhere, though the time for such things was highly limited and it wouldn't take long before she'd be disposing of it herself if it meant getting him out of those clothes a little faster.

Barron Presley Feeling her pushing off his jacket before she was at that envelope still stuck in his fingers. Inhaling evenly at her question as he eyed it. "I think we have a problem."

Coree Marx Glancing up to meet his eyes, her forward motion completely paused. Feeling the drunken edge she had been under smoothing out, threatening to fail her altogether as she found him entirely too serious in that moment. "What kind of problem?"

Barron Presley "I..." pausing, he'd pull up that letter. Addressed not just to him but his entire name. One that not even she dared to breathe as that belonged solely to his grandmother most days who hated the name he went by. Opening the envelope where a familiar piece of pink paper was within. Decorated with hearts like an elementary school girl gone wrong. A long scrap of text upon it.

"Belgian scientists discovered seven newearth-like planetsand in a hundred yearsthe first people might be livingon Mars. ii. Did you knowthat I used to stargaze?But one look at youand I forgotthe name of every constellationI’ve ever seen.Why would I stare at the night skywhen I could be memorizingyour irisesor studying each line onthe palm of your hands? iii. I used to dream of flying awayfrom here,of seeing this worldand every otherfrom a new perspective.But for the first timemy dreams allinvolve my feet firmlyon Earthand my hand firmlyin yours.But if you wanted to,I’d go see the stars with you.I love you on this planet,I’d love you in our cottage on Mars,I’d love you on any planet we could think of.Any solar system, any galaxyany universe:I’ll follow you there and I’ll love you."

Coree Marx Taking the pink paper from his hand, her eyes took in all that was written upon it, something that was clear to be a deep profession of love that would be incredibly unwelcome. Sober. Instantly. The deep emotional and physical desire she had held for him was paused, muted, as she held her breath without understanding. Her eyes lifted to his, confusion lacing light hues. "Baby? What is this? Who is it from? Why would... why would someone think this was okay to send?"

Barron Presley Watching as she read, the man was drawing off the rest of his jacket but now for completely different reasons. Teeth at his bottom lip. "I've been getting them for about 2 months now. They come with packages...I thought once I left my apartment they'd stop but...whoever it is, knows I moved."

Coree Marx "Baby, this is stalking. You don't know who these are from?" She asked, trying her best to swallow her own emotions in the matter that someone was heavily pursuing the man she had been with her entire adult life, not to mention the idea of physical harm that could come into play here, trying to stay focused, but they both knew she could lose it at any moment. "We need to call the cops. What comes in the packages? Do you open them?"

Barron Presley "I stopped opening them. I leave them there..." he confessed as he tucked the letter back into the envelope with a weighted sigh. "I guess she takes them and replaces them...I think that's what that knock was this morning. Two in one day."

Coree Marx "The knock... so this isn't mailed? This is someone coming to the door and leaving these?" she asked, taking a step back as the gravity of it all settled in. This person was of no threat to the relationship and what she might have hoped to gain with Barron there, but she was a threat in the idea that she was there, obsessed, and could easily take to physical acts of violence at any coming or going of either one of them. The apartment was only a couple weeks old and there was no way anyone would know where they had moved to without having followed them in one of the many trips back and forth. The building was high end, secure, and yet someone was getting through. "Baby, the cops. Security downstairs. There are ways to stop this. But do you have any idea who they are from?"

Barron Presley "No, it gets dropped off." Watching her draw back as the woman seemed far more bothered it than he though he probably should have been. "No, I have no clue." He stated, though his family was hardly any stranger to people who wanted his bloodline. A piece of American royalty itself.

Coree Marx Listening as he explained that he didn't know the person, but he knew that the packages were dropped off, she nodded her head, trying to process all of the information as it was given to her, not sure why he had never mentioned this to her before, but not fixating on that fact. Bringing her hand to his jacket, she took it from his hand, letting it fall to the floor. Meeting his eyes she nodded her head as her hands found the front of his shirt, palms pressing over his chest. "Cops," she stated again, as things would have to be tightened, starting with a police investigation and alerting security that no one was to be permitted access to the building for their unit that was not one of the two of them, something they'd never thought they'd have to do, but now more pleased that she'd rented this unit in a more protected location. Smoothing her hands down his chest, a soft smile stole her features inappropriately. "Someone else wants my man," she whispered, finding herself strangely turned on by the fact, though she'd never seen him quite the way the rest of the world had. He wasn't a bloodline, nor was she interested in such, as she'd been in love with the man for as long as she could remember. "But you're mine," she offered possessively, something that the woman didn't wear entirely too often, yet she liked the way the words tasted on her tongue.

Barron Presley "Just wants the sperm, the last name, the fuckin' jawline, the prestige. Their slice of a 300 million dollar estate and growing..." he'd remind her as his own trust was neatly burrowed away. Feeling her at his chest. A shake of his head though it seemed to be doing something for her.

Coree Marx As her hands passed down the fabric of his shirt, finding the lower him between deft fingertips, her eyes never deviated from his as she nodded her head. "But your girlfriend doesn't want any of it," she reminded him as he knew it was true. None of that was what made her happy. None of that put a smile on her face or a laugh at her lips. None of that had her texting a man when she was two drinks in but wanted him. "Let the cops find her and deal with her, but I'm not letting some obsessed fangirl take up another moment of our time," she stated confidently, wearing a confidence that she often times lacked. "It's you and me, baby. Always was and always will be." Slipping her hands beneath his shirt to find his sides, accessing the man's flesh as she drew an even breath. "Only thing of any of that that I would take is the last name, but even if you went by another, that's the one I'd want," she clarified as it wasn't /the/ name that did it for her, but /his/ name, no matter what that name was. She wanted him. The man behind the name. The man who came home to her every night. The man that she shared a bed with since she was a teenager. The man who fell in love with a girl who had nothing to offer but herself. "Throw in a prenup and I'd still want you," she offered as the money never did do anything for her, even when she wasn't sitting on royalties for a song sold to Little Big Town or a track picked up by a Lego movie. Even when she was nothing more than overalls and tank tops, bare feet, and ponytails. It was all the same to her then as it was now and had no chance of changing. With her hands beneath his shirt, slowly moving up his chest, she drew a deep breath at the feel of the warmth of his skin beneath his clothes, finding herself back in that previous mindset after only a brief detour. "I've never had anything to offer you," she reminded him as she knew it was true. She was a no name girl with dreams bigger than her personality would ever allow her, her true power being that with a pen in hand, yet her words were even still so loud. "But you. They want you. They all want you. And you know, you might get a better offer, but you'll never find another that loves you like me."

Barron Presley "Well..." having formerly been Silas Barron Presley-Keough, his father had answered his birthday wish on his 17th birthday and dropped his own name from his son. A name he didn't feel worthy of considering his paternity though the man only seemed to love him more for it. He loved Barron and Barron loved him but he also understood the contradiction that came with the name that would bother him for the rest of his days should it not be done away with. Thus, this was his last name through and through. Feeling her at the bottom of his shirt m, feeling her to bare skin. "There will be a prenup." He clarified, as it kept things clean and wholesome should they ever get that far. Hearing her follow up that drew a brow up. "I know what's out there." He'd remind her.

Coree Marx She had no fear of a prenuptial agreement and thus it would not spark off any concern from the woman as that might be the easiest decision that would be made. She'd never want to hurt the family that had helped her and her mother so much and never would she want them to think she was there for anything more than the love they were well aware that she shared with this man. Hearing him remind her that he knew what was out there, she would say nothing on the matter as she didn't believe in the times that he was away. She didn't believe that he could ever be interested in anything more than her. She had remained faithful to him through and through and always would and had to believe that he had done the same or she'd risk shattering her own heart that was far too fragile to deal with the idea of another being in a space that was her own. Biting against her lower lip, she let her hands smooth down the contour of his chest to find that lower hem of his shirt once again, this time lifting it upwards as she took that first backward step into their bedroom again, finally putting them back into a motion that had been lost momentarily. "Barron," she whispered, eyes there to his as she lifted up against his shirt, leaning in to press her kiss against his chest, never quite losing that eye contact as the unspoken portion of her request, that look in her eyes, would ask him to take her to bed as their original plans had included, where stalkers did not exist and could be dealt with later, but in that very moment, the desires that had been put on hold were alive and well and dictating her actions as well as the look there in her eyes that he'd know all too well.

Barron Presley He wasn't staying it to rub it in or remind her, but to merely state that he knew what he had before him. Knowing the value of her love in comparison with what else was out there. Hearing her speaking as she was at his shirt, drawing back into that hall. "Hm?"

Coree Marx With both hands to the lower hem of his shirt, she'd lift it up just beyond his 'hm?', making the question irrelevant as she'd show him exactly what she wanted in that moment. What she had texted him for. What she wanted from the moment he'd walked in the door which might have only been made stronger by the suggestion that someone else might want what was expressed as her own. "I want you," she whispered to his ear as she pulled the shirt free of him entirely, wrapping her arms around his neck, letting his shirt fall against his back to the floor as her lips found the curve of his neck. Making her request of him as she took another step back towards that bedroom door, giving him all that he would need to step in, to take over, to take her, to erase thoughts of another wanting what was hers, to make good on inappropriate text messages, to take what had only ever belonged to him.

Barron Presley His palms itched with the need to take over. To do this. To make good on her statement. Inhaling his peace literally through his nose though the urge was there. Letting her take over once again as his shirt was shed. Feeling her to his neck as they slipped into that space where his own hands were slipping down for hershirt.

Coree Marx She knew his need to take over as it was all that had existed between them for far too long. In the last few months, his words had set her free there, giving her the encouragement she'd need to find her own confidence in this arena which the woman had taken to quite well if she did say so herself. But there was always going to be that desire there for him to take her, as he had a million times before, even after she'd initiated things. She'd made her request well known enough that she'd feel his hands down her own back, seeking out the pink colored top that he'd seen in the image she'd texted to his phone previously, showing she'd remained just as she had been then. Her kiss was pressed to the curve of his neck as she drew another step back, letting her teeth gently graze the surface of his flesh, speaking to something altogether more intense as she let her inward desires be shown without hesitation at just what she was looking for her. She wanted him, all of him, and she didn't want to take her time getting there.

Barron Presley Drawing off her shirt as he felt her teeth to his skin, hands pulling it off and dropping it before the button of her jeans. That hallway would tell this tale as they both shed their clothing for that mutual satisfaction they were both hoping for. All while attempting to keep himself reigned.

Coree Marx As her shirt passed free, she drew back enough to allow this before she was right back at his shoulder, teeth not resisting her urge to bite against him, seeking out the full strength of the man as she wanted him to own her here, to take over, to make her his entirely. Her hands found the button of his jeans, making quick work there as his own hands did the same. Once the button was free, she was at the zipper before tugging against the fabric to draw it past his hips. Drawing back, her eyes sought his as she paused there in the hallway to allow both of them to get rid of that lower layer as her heart raced within her chest.

Barron Presley "Fuck it." He'd conclude once her bottom was gone, giving up as soon as it was dropped as his hands to her hips were drawing her from her own feet and onto himself where he walked her entirely into the room where her back was hitting the comforter.

Coree Marx From a slow moment to something else altogether, she felt him lifting her easily against him and in no time flat, her back was finding the comforter of the bed. He stole her breath just as she'd hoped he would as he took full control and got them where they both wanted to be. Bringing her hands to the sides of his face, she met his eyes for a moment where he'd find a slow smirk stealing her features. "Fuck me," she offered, adjusting his previous phrasing for her own request, two words he had probably never heard from the woman before. They were clearly stated with one firm meaning behind them as she requested the intensity she knew he could bring to her in that moment. Giving him free reign against her as her hands were quickly finding his boxers, grasping at the fabric to push them down his hips, making no secret of just how quickly she wanted to feel him in some capacity. She didn't want to always be the good girl. She didn't want to be held on any pedestal. She wanted all of it, all of him, everything he could ever want to express or experience and she wanted it to be with her.

Barron Presley Hearing her statement, he'd hum in response. Only wishing he had gotten this years in advance as he felt her at his boxers. Lips finding the side of her neck and just under her where her ear and neck met. None too gently embedding his enamel against that porcelain flesh. "Say it again." He'd demand throatily as he kept at her. His body pressed over hers.

Coree Marx As his boxers were pushed past his thighs, she could feel him against her inner thigh as his teeth found the purchase of flesh at her neck drawing a soft cry from the woman's lips as she closed her eyes tight, feeling every bit of what she had started there in text messages an hour before. Hearing his request, she understood it easily, knowing the words must have sounded completely foreign against her own lips, in her voice, and yet she wouldn't hesitate to give the words to him once again. "Fuck. Me." she repeated, drawing out her words slightly, giving him the full effect of such as her hands found the backs of his arms, drawing him into her as close as their flesh would allow with thin barriers still existing against her own flesh as her own teeth sought the curve of his shoulder, clearly prepared and determined to draw out something that she always knew existed in him, yet never knew existed in herself.

Barron Presley Hearing her repeat as she drew it out. Still not sure he was done hearing it as his lips pressed firmly to that spot. Hands slipping down for her panties where he was drawing them down her thighs and legs until she could finish the challenge. Lips turning to the column of her throat as he drew in a deep and heated breath.

Coree Marx Feeling his reaction to those words, she wasn't sure she'd ever tire of such a thing as the man seemed to be completely there in that moment, in tune to her, feeling the full request as she felt the fabric of her panties leaving her long legs. Drawing her knees up one at a time, she'd free herself of the fabric where he left her to do so before she was wrapping slender legs around his hips, drawing him against the warmth that already existed at her core. As his lips sought the column of her throat, she lifted her chin to expose this landscape to him, giving herself to him fully and unrestrained as he was accustomed to by now. Feeling the words burning against her tongue, wanting to say them again, to pair them with the name she called him most, and yet she'd bite her lower lip as to not wear them out on the man. Her heart beat raced within her chest that surely he'd find there within her pulse as it sounded through her eardrums as her nails gripped to the back of his arms, inflicting light surges of pain that she'd never expressed from her own fingertips previously, yet letting the situation and feeling take her over entirely with no need or desire to back away.

Barron Presley As she drew up into him, his hips would draw down and forward against her assuring the two were bound to meet even if it was just for a friction based touch. Lips trailing down her neck as he felt her nails to the back of his arms. Slipping all the way down to the base of her chest.

Coree Marx As he pressed against her, the contact was sure to be short lived as his lips sought flesh that had gone untouched for the time being. Working past the fabric of her bra, his kiss found the base of her chest where she'd naturally arch her back that had been pressed to the bedding. Each pass of his lips against her brought another bit of her to life beneath him, a fire slowly spreading throughout her body that could only be extinguished by him meeting that request she'd asked for though knowing it would only get hotter from there. Biting against her lower tier as she felt his lips against her skin, one hand slipped to the back of his neck, her nails still unrestrained as she found a new piece of skin herself. Breathing heavily, her hand tensed, pressing him deeper against her chest as she didn't want that contact to stop. Boldly lifting her free hand to the fabric of her own bra, pulling down against it to expose herself to him as her hand at the back of his neck guided him against her breast, silently communicating what it was she wanted in that moment.

Barron Presley "Why the fuck do you wear BRAS in the HOUSE?!" Voice rising in volume to a near war cry though not yelling at her. Never an easy person to predict whether he was joking or not but with his face to her cleavage, this one might have been a safe bet as she drew at her bra. Not taking much more pressure then that as his lips followed the contour of her. Lips passing down against her before his tongue would sweep the bud of her nipple with a heated sigh.

Coree Marx As he raised his voice at the discovery of the fabric she wore against her chest, she didn't have an answer to that and she surely wasn't too concerned with figuring it out in the moment either. Up until recently, the two lived apart, so every time they would end up here, a bra would be in order, yet now that they were living together, there would be little things like this that would likely be discovered that she wouldn't think much of. "I don't knoooow," she complained in response, her thoughts interrupted as his lips took to her, his tongue sweeping against her with a heated breath behind it. Arching her back beneath him, her hand tensed to the back of his neck as she drew her legs tighter around him, seeking out the pressure of him there against her as her breath hitched, completely thrown from her thought process by the feeling of him there at her breast. "Fuck," she complained, lost somewhere between satisfaction and wanting more, struggling to communicate as he'd stolen her words entirely, earning himself a soft whine from her lips as a wave of warmth made itself known at the apex of her thighs.

Barron Presley Drawing his hands back to unclasp her bra and get him more access to her as his hands momentarily stalled. Tongue replaced with the opening of his lips around her. Suckling a low pressure as his eyes flickered up briefly before he was drawing the bra back at her arms to guide it off before he was to the other side of her.

Coree Marx So incredibly lost by the feeling of his mouth surrounding her, drawing against her with the power he possessed, she wouldn't feel him unfastening her bra, nor the bra strap passing down her shoulder until it was at the point that she'd need to help. Slipping her arms free, the fabric was abandoned somewhere there between them as he shifted sides, taking to the other that would be just as sensitive as the first. Lifting her hips against him, she bit against her lower lip, turning her head slightly to the side as her eyes fell closed. Desire and anticipation welling up within her as her hand eased from the back of his neck to follow the curve of his shoulder where she'd find his hand. Linking her fingers with his, her grip held tight against him as her hips shifted slightly, looking for the friction, needing that pressure, needing him.

Barron Presley Suckling against her in mirrored response as he'd feel her hips and her at his hand. Teasing his tongue over her before his lips would make the most of this erogenous zone. Pressed to the center of her chest as his hand hooked her thigh. Pushing his own hips forward.

Coree Marx Her hand gripped his tightly as she felt him drawing his hips forward against her own, her lower tier no longer captured by her own bite, but set free as her jaw lowered, her mouth opening, feeling the pressure from him that she had been seeking. Lifting her hips against him, she opened her eyes, looking down the landscape of her own body to find him there, focused solely on her and nothing more, never quite sure if these moments gave him any real satisfaction, but never quite asking either. With one hand there within his, her other hand found the side of his face, connecting with him as her eyes were there to his, unable to find a full breath as she felt him against the warmth of her. Her desire for him had been stated previously, but now he'd find proof of it there against himself as the woman had waited for him.

Barron Presley Feeling her lift her hips further as their eyes would briefly meet. His hand from her thigh slipping around to the front of him where his grip found his cock. Holding himself to tease over the heat of her. Testing her for himself to see just what he was dealing with as his eyes drew closed. Drawing up against her chest where he was pressed to her heartbeat.

Coree Marx Releasing his other hand as he reached down between them, not entirely sure in that moment if he was going for himself or for her, finding out a moment later as she felt the thick head of his cock parting her, teasing against her, stealing her breath. As his eyes closed, hers did the same as she felt him there to where he'd find proof of her heart rate. "Baby," she whined, unable to keep the word from her lip as it slipped through more easily than even breathing at this point. Her previous words still burning hot against her tongue, knowing they'd find their way past her lips once more, but in that moment, he'd stolen just the single word, a nickname, from her. Her hand found the back of his neck, pressure flowing through her fingertips as she found herself confused on if she should press him into her chest more deeply or if she should seek his lips with her own. Lost and not trying to find herself in the slightest as she gave in to all of the desires, not bothering to restrain herself in any way as he'd get all of her here that he could ever want as the woman was just far enough gone that she held no boundaries within her at all.

Barron Presley Hearing her whine as it still wasn't quite enough to prompt him into action as his cock was passing over her with no point of penetration. Merely teasing her as his his lips trailed back up to her clavicle. Not quite done with her yet as his lips reattached to one of her nipple.

Coree Marx For a moment, she'd think he was ready for her, finally at the point that he could take no more without being buried within her until all at once she felt him there to her nipple once more, drawing it into his mouth as he passed the head of his cock against her. The man was actually teasing her. She could taste her hunger for him there at the tip of her tongue, consuming her entirely as she lifted her hips against him, attempting to show him what she wanted here as if there were any doubt at all, but she was losing her ability to do much of anything as long as he was there at her breast and he damned well knew it. With her breaths jagged and irregular, her hand found the side of his face, lifting against him as she lifted her head, craning to find his lips with her own, yet instead she'd deviate at the last minute to sink her teeth against his shoulder none too gently. Turning her head to the side, she'd repeat the same against the side of his neck, growling against his flesh as her whisper found her lips finally. "Fuck me, baby," she pleaded, bordering on the edge of saying please if it meant he'd take to her any quicker as desperation laced her words. He'd gotten to her entirely as he'd know well by now as he'd drawn those words from her three times. Nipping against the side of his neck once more, her legs wrapped around him as she attempted to close that space between them, encouraging physically what she'd requested verbally.

Barron Presley Hearing her with that statement again, she could get whatever she wanted with that as her hips came forward. Giving him two options; join into her or move his hand. Ultimately vouching for the first as he volunteered it. Feeling her at his neck and shoulder where he hoped to wrangle more of that rough touch from her as he guided the head of his cock to her entrance. Guided forward where he'd press deep within her inch by inch as he assured he'd be buried within her.

Coree Marx As he gave into her, she'd feel that initial pressure as he pressed into tight walls that would not be so forgiving in those initial moments, just as tight around him as they had been the first time he had taken the woman years before. Biting down fully against his shoulder, a full groan there behind her bite as she dug her nails against the base of his neck, holding him to her with a touch that was not ordinarily her own, yet proving that she had held back in previous times or perhaps this time she was just giving him everything she had. Regardless, it was to a different level, one she could not apologize for, nor would she expect him to wish for one. Releasing the bite, she replaced the hold with that of her lips pressed firmly to his shoulder, suckling against his flesh as she felt him taking her inch by inch while she marked his flesh with that of her own mark that might not be so permanent as the ink he wore, yet held just as much meaning if not more.

Barron Presley Feeling the tightness of her which still confused him. While he had by no means abused her in this way and the two were probably just now finding their stride sexually, it still should not have been so intense yet there they were though he was by no means complaining. Feeling her to his shoulder where she's embed herself, feeling her take in each bit of him as he pulled in a deep breath. Feeling the warmth of pleasure down to his very nerve endings.

Coree Marx As he pressed within warm walls, he'd find the proof of that which she'd told him previously via text; that she needed him. It was there before him as her walls clung to him with a warmth that was only there in such aroused states. Pressing her lips there to his flesh where she'd solidify that mark that she'd left upon him, she leaned her head back fully against the bed, drawing a sharp breath that would be ceased by a bite at her lower lip while her hand pressed firmly to the back of his neck, drawing him towards her, seeking out his lips where instead of breathing freely, she'd breathe through him. An intensity in her fingertips that was unfamiliar to her, yet it felt like the most natural of all occurrences to pull at him as she so desired knowing she wanted him to do the same unrestrained, knowing that this was all he'd ever wanted from her; complete and utter openness that was never held back from him. Her desire for the man wouldn't be masked or something he'd have to draw from her. Instead, she offered it to him in her touch, in the way she bit against him, in the way she bit at herself. It was all there on full display for the man as finally, after years together, the woman was coming into her own confidences here with him, proving that sometimes the best is really yet to come.

Barron Presley For a long time, the man had simply notched this act up as a loss. Maybe she just wasn't that attracted to him. Something he'd clearly understand. Or that they just weren't meant to be sexual. That their roots went too deep for it. Yet, the change had been night and day as he felt her against him. Drawing into her entirely until he could push no further where he'd exhale his held breath.

Coree Marx Feeling him hit the depth that could be pushed no further, he was entirely sheathed within her and she'd know it by the exhale at his lips. In a time and space that normally they would hold this position a moment, allowing her walls to adjust to him, allowing her to feel those feelings washing over her, this time was different as it would continue to be. Her feelings too strong to be handled delicately as they had to come out somehow and they would do so against him. Perhaps it was in the fact that she'd never had to wait for him, never facing the build up in the manner that she had that day, or perhaps it was something else altogether, yet she didn't know and didn't care. All she knew was that she wanted him, unrestrained, uninhibited, giving to her all that he had just as she'd give him the very same. No standards to be upheld here as she finally felt completely free with the man. Ultimately managing to draw him into her chest without the ability to pull him to her lips, she lifted her head from the bedding once more, her lips finding his ear as she bit against the lower curve, tugging against his ear as her heated breath fell against his flesh. "I love you and I know that you love me," she whispered, her words seeming just as soft and sincere as they always had, never leaving room to doubt the depths of her love for the man, but a moment later she would contradict herself. "But I want you to fuck me like you don't." Taking those words to the next level entirely, whatever leashes might have existed between them were severed in that very moment as she made it completely clear just how violently she wanted him, needed him even.

Barron Presley Feeling her to his ear as his eyes occupied the space where the two met. No longer pretending to catch a glance but full out looking at the source of their pleasure as he heard her words. Expecting the usual sentiment from her in that moment as he dragged up his eyes. Smirking as he didn't get that at all. Leaning in and pressing his lips firmly to hers, a nod in agreement. "I like the sounds of that."

Coree Marx All at once, his lips had found hers, pressing a firm kiss to her own. She should have expected the reaction to be as it was, yet the man would surprise her as per usual. As he spoke those words, she had now felt and heard his feelings on the matter, both of which thrilled her to no end. A slow smirk stole her features as she softly nudged her nose against his before she was pressing her lips firmly to his once more while shifting her hips there against his, not wanting that moment to adjust to him, but wanting everything all at once.

Barron Presley Not needing the push of her hips as his hands would soon suggest as he stilled her. Letting his lips remain to hers as his hips would jump roughly forward. Just as capable as he was merely giving her that moment to hear him agreeing before giving and pressing roughly into her where a rotation of his hips would be immediately greeted with a repeated jolt pressed against her.

Coree Marx As his hands gripped her sides, she wasn't sure she had ever quite felt his grasp into her as he did in that moment. Her hips stilled instantly as she drew back from that kiss just in time to feel the rough force of his hips forward against her own. The action alone drew her lips to part, her jaw to lower, and a gasp to steal her breath. Meeting his eyes, he would the same intensity that he was giving her tainting her own hues as she reciprocated what she was given in this arena. The second push of his hips drew forth a whine from the woman as she drew her lower tier into her own bite, never before seeing the man quite from this position. Grasping the backs of his arms, she held to him as tightly as he held her as she felt him deep within her.

Barron Presley The idea that he'd need the encouragement was quite laughable as she'd find. Hearing her whine as she went for his bottom lip. Drawing forward as his hips would circle. Pushed up against her and sheathed deep before drawing back and repeating again. Hand gripping the side of her knee to his hip as he swept his angled structure forward.

Coree Marx The shifting of his hand to her leg had her naturally drawing it further up at his side under the guidance of his hand. Finding the man to be something entirely different and yet the same here all at the same time while only able to wonder if he felt it as well. Biting against her own lower tier only until she could lift her head to steal his where she nipped softly at first before she found a firm grip, drawing out against his lip as her eyes fixed to his as her hands followed the curve of his shoulders to his neck where she grasped the back of his neck with the same intensity she had shown at the back of his arms moments before.

Barron Presley Truth be told, he was hitting his stride. This was where he felt the most comfortable and always had. Yet, with her, he tuned it back a bit. His best natural instincts relaxed as a result of the care he had for the girl. But this, this was the tip of the iceberg. Feeling her to his neck as he felt her find his own bottom lip. Relinquishing it as his back would slightly arch, knees to the bed as he swept forward with each smooth and fluid thrust to her.

Coree Marx Only able to hold that bite for a moment before the drive of his hips forward had her drawing back from his lips, allowing for the arch of his back and her eyes to witness him from the greatest angle she could ever imagine. The cry at her lips was unfamiliar in comparison to the whine they were both accustomed to. Her hands remained to the back of his neck, holding onto him in whatever manner she could as she never quite imagined them this way and yet she could see it there in him that he was there entirely. It was beyond time for them to be able to fully express themselves in this manner even though she felt like a complete rookie in the arena. Drawing a sharp breath, her hands slipped down for the fabric of the comforter to either side while her leg remained hitched to his side. Forcing her own hips up against his as she would attempt to find her place and pace here, trusting the man enough to know his guiding hand would never be far away. The cry at her lips faded into the whine they were both used to as it became clear to her that silence would not be an option as he struck her core deep within.

-March 6, 2017