#spent 20 minutes trying to shimmy out

[beeskneesntrees]

Coming from the rough parts of Florida and moving to a VERY small town in Massachusetts with a population so low we don't legally qualify to be on a mail route has been a jarring experience. I'm still in all my town facebook groups from Florida so I see 5+ posts a day about armed robbery, house raids and other nefarious things. Meanwhile, my towns facebook pages' biggest drama is someones' rv parked next to the post office looking "unsightly". It was a huge deal for like a month. The cops were even called.

That was the talk of the town for a while BUT TODAY THAT CHANGED.

Today's exciting news? An 18 wheeler stuck on a hill. Truly riveting.

[bump1nthen1ght]

Between the Neon (Male!Android x AFAB!Reader)

Pairing: AFAB!Reader x Male!Robot

Genre: Sci-fi, CyberPunk, Prostitute!Reader, Fluffy Smut

Word Count: 1714 words

Warning: Explicit Content Ahead (18+ ONLY)

Summary: After leaving his last appointment completely satisfied, Axel wasted no time in coming back to request more of your services.

Request: Anything with Axel please! (From kinktober)

A/N: Soooo I totally forgot that the original drabble with Axel (Which you can find here) was gender neutral, and didn’t realize until I had fully written out the fic 🤦‍♀️. Soo I decided to write two versions, one with an AFAB!Reader and one with an AMAB!Reader, with the reader still using they/them pronouns. Hope y’all enjoy!

Link to AMAB!Reader is Here!

After many years of working, you’ve grown a good sense for customers; Who will tip well, who’s going to cause problems, and the special few who will become your favorites.

You knew immediately that Axel was going to go in the latter category. But what you hadn’t expected was for him to jump to your #1 patron within a month of your first rendezvous. Man was eager and had some money to spend, that was for sure.

“Hmm, good bot.” Your thumb rubs across his smooth skull-plating, moaning as his synthetic tongue fucks against your g-spot. His vents exhale hot steam, like a heating pad between your legs. He had gotten that body mod after three sessions together, something to prevent him  from overheating amidst the countless orgasms. The nodes of textured tongue send shivers down your spine, making you sink into your plush work bed. “Fuck, your getting good at this, Axel.”

Axel had learned on his second visit that your pussy was his favorite flavor, always begging for a taste at the beginning of every session. He had been slightly clumsy at first, but once he learned your biology, he took it up like a dedicated scholar. You had even caught him looking at extensive diagrams of the human vulva after one session, making notes on what made you specifically shiver and cum.

“I’m close, baby.” Axel moans into your mound, face lit in bright blue blush. Machinery whirrs as your thighs press into the sides of his head, his own personal heaven. Your toes curl behind his neck, orgasm striking quick and hard “Fuck~” You pant, hips jerking and humping into Axel’s jaw, your juices running down his chin. He laps them up like a dog, always desperate for another taste.

You have to pull him away from your cunt, slightly overstimulated and eager for the next part of your session. Axel has a stupid wide grin on his face, his digital pupils turned into glitchy hearts.

What a cutie.

You kiss Axel’s cheek as he crawls up your body, letting him snuggle into your neck and hug you with sticky hands.

“I wanna try something new today.” You whisper in his audial port. Axel whimpers.

“Yes p-please.” He lets you pull away from the embrace, obediently following orders to sit on the edge of the bed. Axel is always quick to try new things, desperately excited to explore your body and all its new sensations.

You remember the first time you rode him, how his glitchy voice echoed across your apartment. 

“O-o-oh stars!”

His hands had struggled choosing between gripping your hips and fondling your tits, watching all of you bounce in his dick. That dilemma was solved when you flipped into reverse cowgirl and he was able to palm your jiggling ass cheeks.

“You’re incredible! Incredible!” He had yelped as he overloaded inside you, licking your thighs clean of cum right after. He then spent the next 20 minutes caressing your butt, watching the way it wiggled with every hip movement.

That's what inspired you tonight.

You flip around to your stomach, holding your weight on your elbows and shimmying your hips. Your fingers come down to your pussy lips and spread them wide open. 

“Come here, baby.”

Axel scrambles up the bed, aching cock in his grip, lemon-lime coolant dripping down the shaft. He’s quick to line up with your hole, but doesn’t sink in just yet. He never does without permission.

Good boy.

“Now put your hands on my hips.” Your voice guides him along, shaky digits glancing across your pelvis. His leaking tip pressed against your entrance, so close to just slipping inside you. Another burst of air comes from his vents.

“Now's the fun part.” Settling into your knees, you throw your ass back onto Axel, cock sliding in like a hot knife through butter. His digits leave indents on your love handles, his voice glitching.

“Fu-uck!” He pants, his eyes going cross from the sudden grip on his dick. Your velvety walls hold him tight, his nodes rubbing as he his hips jump a little. You smirk, swiveling your hips.

“You gotta good grip back there?” Your voice purrs, and you take Axel’s lusty moans as a definite ‘yes’. 

Axel’s voice melts into whines as you slide him out till the tip, only to shriek and glitch when you throw your ass back on to him. You give him little time to recover, using his hands for stability to throw it back and over and over onto his cock. Streams of coolant run down his cock and between your pussy lips, sloshing together with skin and wiring.

“Oh, stars and galaxies~” Axel moans, leaning his torso forward to help his balance. “You feel so go-od.” Axel's tongue lolls out in a pant, more steam pumping from his vents. “That ass.” His voice teeters off, hands wandering down to your jiggling backside.

“You wanna slap it, Axel?” You swivel your hips again, core clenching as you put an extra shimmy in your hips.

“Y-yes. Will that h-hurt you-ungh!” 

Your pussy walls clench onto Axel’s cock, bottom lip bitten between your teeth at the idea.

“No, baby. I want it.”

A mixture between a delighted giggle and a ravenous moan squeal from Axel’s audial ports. One hand moves from your hips to your ass, never leaving the skin. He gives a tentative squeeze, mindful of his robotic strength, before giving you a soft tap. It’s sweet, but you crave more. 

“You can do it harder, Axel. In fact….”

You pause your bouncing, craving to see Axel’s expression. His cheeks grow bright with his coolant, his pupils flickering back and forth between the arch of your back and your face.

“Why’d you stop?”

“Patience, sweet thing.” You grip onto the bedspread below, adjusting your knees upward into proper doggy style. “Here, grab onto my hips again.” Axel follows your instructions dutifully, finding his palace on your pelvis. His plating shudders as you rock forward, pulling his cock out to the tip. Axel rushes to follow, hands still in place, but resists. “Okay, now pull me back. Like I was doing before.”

There’s an audible click as Axel turns his head, slightly confused. But as always he’s an obedient boy, and does as he’s told.

He goes slow, still timid and unsure. But a crackling groan from his chest tells you he’s catching on quickly as pulls you back onto his cock.

“Ok, now pull out a bit.”

Big globs of coolant drop down your pussy and onto Axel’s shaft as he does, another shudder. His digits shale against your skin.

“Now, pull me back and push your hips up.”

Axel increases his pace a bit, impatience finally getting to him, chasing your warmth. A texture head bumps against your g-spot, and you make sure to emphasize your moan.

“Again.” 

Axel, ever the fast learner, humps into you again, nodes scraping along your inner walls with a little more force. You bite your lip.

“Again, faster.”

Your right hand spreads forward, knuckles clenching into the fabric. Axel, ever the quick learner, thrusts again with more gusto. Another crackling moan from behind you. He doesn’t wait for your instruction, following the unspoken and humping into you.

“Yes, just like that.”

Axel is quick in finding his rhythm, engines whirring as his hips speed up. Your cheap mattress squeaks, bed frame now hitting the wall as Axel throws his weight into you.

“Oh, yes.” Axel moans, eyes transfixed by you jiggling ass, jiggling because of him.

“Ungh, right there!” Your neck arches backward, mouth open wide with your tongue sticking out. Axel’s head easily find your g-spot with every hit, even as Axel himself grows more frantic. Mechanical parts that you’ve never heard from him before kick into gear, helping him move with more and more force.

“Ooo-oh!” Axel digits grow slick on your sweat, struggling to find a grip. But he doesn’t care, clawing into the fat and chasing the high of your cunt on his cock. Cum and fluids spatter onto your ass cheeks, even reach your lower back as Axel fucks you hard and fast.

“Slap my ass!”

This time the mix of adrenaline and lust are too much, overloading Axel’s more gentler sensibilities, and he gives you a proper spank. The noise echoes across the room.

“Fuck!” Your pussy milks him for all his worth. Axels digits rub across the handprint do doubt on your skin, right before slapping the other side just as hard. “Yes! Yes!”

Your headboard crashes into your wall now, shaking the very foundations of your shitty apartment. The gears in Axel’s legs work overtime, and you're sure the only thing that could stop him now would be his own orgasm, not any kind of exhaustion.

Speaking of which-

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. W-where do you want-”

“Inside, creampie me!”

It’s like a password, sending Axel into a whole new mode of fucking. His cockhead pounds the very end of your pussy, hands knotting into your ass. You feel a buzzing running up your stomach and down your legs. Your skin feels like it's on fire.

“So good, so good, so good.” Axel’s voice babbles, no amount of steam for  his vents preventing the rising heat in his wiring. “Oh, stars”

An explosion of cum bursts in your cunt, filling you up like a sex toy, spurting out of the sides. You reach your high at that moment, toes curling and pussy flexing onto Axel’s cock.

The poor bot nearly collapses after he pulls out, his modesty plate shuddering to close as his temperature warning beep goes off. He falls onto his side, arm thrown over his face. 

It takes you a while to catch your breath, trying to remember the last time a client left you this cock-drunk. Once you do, you sidle up to Axel, enjoying the excess warmth of his body, like a giant heating pad.

“That was….awesome.”

Axel pants, arm slipping under your hips to pull you closer. His system beeps again, no doubt sending him advisories to push your hot, warm-blooded body away. But those are quickly deflected, Axel nuzzling his face into your hair.

Yup, definitely one of your favorites.

[bargarraninc]

teddy bear waltz; visit 16, dec 3rd, 2023

THE INFAMOUS BIRTHDAY DOUBLE; Turning 20 at the McKittrick. PART II: THE EVENING

QUICK NOTES: - Long recap, we know the drill. Yes, I continue to spew analytical nonsense about Malcolm in this one too — love that silly detective. - The 1-1s discussed in this post are Malcolm and the Taxidermist. Spoiler portions are clearly marked by red headings!

TL;DR: Holy shit Tim Creavin.

Thanks to a momentous birthday gift of a spoiler from Mr. Tim Creavin himself, I stand in line for the evening show, with my Ovest arancini in hand, visibly trembling with adrenaline, excitement and a little bit of the cold despite having just spent three hours running around the hotel. A shoutout must be made to the lovely folks in line with me who I tried to convince (for the better part of 30 minutes) to dedicate themselves to a loop with Malcolm. It brought me immense joy watching their familiar silhouettes rushing behind Malcolm later on in the show.

Entry is quick and we make it into bar alongside the Oz’s, greeted by the lovely Katie and Audrey. I have brought a friend with me to this show, so we get water and loiter in the correct spot to be on the first elevator up. We talk about our small game plan — ballroom, up with Malcolm (where I was hoping she would get the 1-1) and then through the floors for a quick walkthrough before we split. Aces are called and we all shuffle in.

Spoiler in mind, I am already giggling as I put the mask on — excited for what I was (rightly) sure would be an incredibly entertaining show. The elevator door opens as Karen finishes her spiel and it is Mr. Tim Creavin as good ol’ James Bargarran. Tim’s Taxi is a drawler. He lazily gestures us in and leans against the lift-wall during his usual spiel, in which he points at me and my friend holding hands and asks for us to ‘detach’. The body language, the characterisation is so different from his sweet (if nervy) Malcolm countenance that I am immediately floored. From moment one, I know this is going to be a very Taxi-heavy visit to the Hotel.

We are all let out onto 3rd with a sardonic wave and I guide my guest to move down to ballroom through the Macbeth’s apartment for those stairwells are emptier. Not realising just how quickly we’d been let in, we almost rush past Nate Carter’s Macbeth doing the graveyard solo. Thankfully, I catch movement out of the side of my eye, so me and her stand there entirely alone watching Nate gracefully twirl, entangled in a fight seemingly with himself. It is gorgeous and I am reminded that Nate is truly a star — what a beautiful Macbeth. We descend with Macbeth to the ballroom and I take up my usual post by Malcolm’s trench on instinct.

As all the dancing kicks off, I am made giddy by the night’s cast — Will is on as Malcolm and the coven is Mio! Sexy, Michaela! Bald (a personal favourite) and Aaron! Boy. My friend latches onto the Banquo and Sexy duo as her favourites but I am centred in on Will’s Malcolm and his little shimmying dance with Aaron, both of them not letting the other take lead in the dance, raring up against rather competitively.

This happy, beautiful scene comes to an end and Will, as always, absolutely books it out of ballroom, first stumbling up from crypt and then seemingly running. We break after him, only a crowd of 4-5, my friend lagging behind already as I try my best to keep pace with Will and his ridiculously long legs. Despite the pain of being reminded of how short I am, Will’s scramble up from ballroom is my favourite out of all the Malcolms. It is so violently physical, the groaning and the sounds of Will hitting the wall on his way up, making the whole thing seem so much more urgent. We run into the back room, Will has his antidote and Agnes enters.

Taylor Ann Massa is on as Agnes and she is a treat — so fluid and quick, flitting away from Malcolm with ease. With Taylor on, Agnes feels a little bit more in control of this situation, her movements more calculatingly flirtatious. Will picks her up a little as they kiss and the lighting makes the whole scene look dreamy — my friend adores it, she returns to watch it in the next loop as well. Agnes rushes away, this show not taking anyone with her, and Will (along with the now amassed crowd) runs back to the backroom, egg in hand. I position my friend in front of me, hoping her still catching breath would indicate her loyalty to Will enough to get her the 1-1. This does not work and for the second time on the 3rd of December, I am dragged by a Malcolm into the room of ash and eggs.

MALCOLM 1-1 STARTS HERE

WILL WILL WILL — I am such a huge fan. I have said this many a time before but Will’s Malcolm is a scary, scary bitch and I eat up every second of it like a starved woman at her last supper. Every moment of this 1-1 feels tonally different to the exact same one I had earlier in the day — drenched in pure, hostile suspicion rather than the more naïve seeming near-curiosity of Tim. Will’s walk to the curtain is a proper hold, keeping me in line, instead of a gentle side-hug of sorts and when we are in the room, there is no softness in the querying look Malcolm implores you with. The egg pick is rapid but the breaking is slower, perfectly synced to the soundscape in a way where the tension of knowing what is going to happen but not when makes your heart quicken. Will searches through the ash, less desperate and more sure — as if he knows I know something that he doesn’t.

I am pinned to the wall tightly, eyes widening on instinct. Will does the dialogue — again, things are different and I am beyond thrilled to see these two conflicting versions of this beloved character so close together. I adore Will’s vocal choice in this scene — the gruffness, the difficult tone. For some reason, I am reminded of a Good Cop-Bad Cop shtick except Tim is Anxious Cop and Will is Angry Cop. I refuse to break eye contact, enthralled by Will’s ability to communicate sheerly through body language. There is no stumbling or clawing (as if tortured and asking for help) like with Tim, Will’s choking up of the feather is frenzied and vicious. Shit is pure daunting. The lights go off, there is a tight grasp around my shoulders (rather than a damning hug) as the last lines are delivered and then I’ve lost Will, who moves at insane speeds and is gone before I squeeze my eyes open.

MALCOLM 1-1 ENDS HERE

I make it down to Duncan discovery right as Malcolm discovers the feather and despite all of my times seeing this scene, the goosebumps return as if on cue. There is something about the gravity of this scene with an older Malcolm — this beautifully soul-crushing world weariness attached to it. It is not the heartbroken crumbling of a young son but the disparaged understanding of an older one — well-aware of his father’s mortality from the start, but beyond angry at the manner of death. I watch Will! Malcolm, Elias! Macduff and Omri! Banquo bring Andrew P’s Duncan down to the crypt, enjoying the sheer height at which Andrew P was hoisted due to how tall the Boys™ are. The suspicious look at Banquo in the crypt is beyond perfect — a clear sign of Malcolm’s growing distrust in everyone around him. I loved the glance first falling to Macduff and only slowly following the line to Banquo and the choice from Will to be the first to remove his hand — something I have never seen the younger Malcolms do.

I follow Malcolm up to Hammertime but am distracted by the reappearance of my friend. We don’t make it in to watch Hammertime as a consequence but I position us by Malcolm’s office window on High Street just as Natebeth comes screeching down the hall from Rep Bar. She clutches onto my hand, Macbeth and Macduff come running down the street and without much issue, we make it into the room. Again, I am blown away by Will’s physicality as Malcolm — every movement is sharp and gruff, in character and scary. The sound of both Malcolm and Macduff’s feet hitting the ground and them moving around the room is chillingly good — Will and Elias are perfectly synchronised. There is a moment where Malcolm stands facing this small audience and me and Will make eye contact. It is fleeting but it feels like I have been vetted and approved as innocent, as a potential co-conspirator and I am exhilarated. We dutifully follow the Boys into the office to watch them conspire the moving of the trees and then they are gone. My friend holds me in the office and tells me about watching Fulton inspect Sexy in the mortuary while I was away and as she tells me more, we walk quietly to Paisley’s.

Armed with candy (no gumdrops </3), we hang out with Bret’s Fulton — a sweet cowardly Fulton if I have ever seen one. He rushes off to pick for the 1-1, which neither of us get, and I move both me and my friend into Agnes’ apartment (which was relatively empty, expected when she is asleep) so we can see him creepily emerge. He emerges, we continue following (chowing down on sour balls) and watch him tidy up, endeared. As loop two begins (indicated to me by Malcolm moving down High Street in his fun little trench), she stays with Bret and I abandon ship to go check if Tim’s Taxi has made an appearance. He has not so again, by habit, I wander over to Malcolm’s office where Will is busy typing away on the typewriter. He has a crowd now so I don’t bother trying to squeeze in, opting to watch from the doorway. The razor scene starts (which is decidedly not my favourite) so I slip away again, going into the Taxidermist’s to say hello to our favourite stuffed animal friends.

My friend notices me on my way back and joins me so I spend a few quite minutes showing her the different strange taxidermy and the office in the back, all of which are some of my favourite set details. She is less interested in petting the moose than I am so a few pets later, we look around the apothecary (which she loves). I am distracted again by the need to pet the moose and as I do so, a stomping blur cuts past me — who else could it be other than our local nutjob, Mr. Bargarran. The noise is frightening and draws out my friend, we follow out into the office to see Tim rampaging towards Fulton, angry as all hell and my god… scary ??

Bret’s Fulton sees him coming and steps back, fear palpable and as Tim! Taxi literally kicks the door open to the shop, he disappears speedily. This Taxi is insane and I am literally paralysed into a constant gasp by the sheer manic, freakish energy of this performance. As he watches Taxi rush off, Taxi groans/ growls in frustration and rushes into High Street, body posed like a predator ready to pounce and to rip the other into shreds. Fulton appears, there is a small fight where Bret scurries away from Tim as fast as possible, disappearing with a White Mask into the funeral parlour. At this point, I am holding onto my friend’s arm in a tight grasp, gagged by this display, and I proceed to only be more stunned as Tim begins to genuinely punch the windows and doors of the parlour. I can’t help but break out into disbelieving, quiet laughter as he punches the right window hard enough that the entire panel comes clean off. I don’t think Tim could believe it either — he stepped right back, glanced at it, at the genuinely terrified crowd (in which I was trying so hard to keep it together) and then scoffed. It was beyond glorious.

I had spent the whole first hour of this show thinking about Tim C’s Malcolm, deliciously different as it is to Will’s, and about how much I loved his characterisation. Previous to this show, I had seen and for the most part, looped Tim on as Malcolm 10 times. As I told him mid-him spoiling the Taxi surprise, I had never had the luck of seeing him on as anything else so in my mind, I had formulated his Taxi to be very similar to Vik’s in energy — mildly threatening (for obviously taxidermy) but mostly goofy fun. THIS was not what I was expecting at all and the confidence with which Tim carried the character of this feverishly riotous nutjob blew me allllll the way away. The aggression in the body language — the slight hunch in his walk, the constant clenching of his fingers, the crazy eyes — was otherworldly. My commitment to two-looping this Taxi only grew every second I saw of this performance, my entire being incensed by the need to watch this wacko do all the strange shit I knew was coming. I was not disappointed at all. AT ALL.

From my own rampant chicken-scrawl notes from the day of, here are a list of highlights from Mr. Creavin’s Taxidermist in the first full loop he was out.

The bone-themed art piece he made by sticking all the dead leaves and flowers from the tray into a skeleton to create a Taxidermist’s bouquet.

The little square made out of all his tools that he kept watching me try to fix and continuing to mess its symmetry up on purpose.

When he grabbed the sharpest looking bone he could find and kept circling it around his skin, before holding it like a dagger and moving towards the door of the shop, pointing it at Fulton threateningly (long enough my friend thought we were about to witness a with-bone murder)

His insistence on straightening the little dinosaur and then running past it and wacking it.

PUNCHING THE VIRGIN MARY STATUE????

Stomping around exclusively — this man did not walk anywhere.

When Bret Fulton was in his 1-1, Tim swivelled around into the Fulton Tailor Shop, slammed all of the little crosses off the wall, threw drawers everywhere, played concerningly too long with the scissors and put the only red string in Fulton's box in his mouth. When Bret came back to fix the coat, he rifled through the box and Tim drooled the spool of thread (needle and all) out onto the table. BRET'S FACE...

Fondling the hammer while sitting in the office before taking it off the wall, holding it for some time and then putting it back.

Kicking the cemetery dirt instead of digging through it, leading to it being all over the audience (who were all fucking petrified of him).

Pulling out many many things from the inside-shop moose’s nose — including the blood will have blood note.

The smug little look he shot people when he very smoothly pulled his first 1-1 pull into the room, smoothly enough that even they seemed shocked.

While Tim C Taxi was in the 1-1, I slipped down to 2, wanting to check on our dear pal Porter and to see who was on. I had spent the majority of my show in the stairwells with Malcolm and then on 4 with Taxi and didn’t want to be left unawares for writing the cast list after. I amble down and who do I see? VIK. Most shows, this discovery would end any other plans but I had committed myself to the nutjob upstairs so I let myself stay for only long enough to watch the phonebooth dance. Aaron and Vik make for an amazing BW-Porter pair and Vik came across as much bolder, leaning in actively, with Aaron’s relatively kinder Boy than with Noah’s mean one (the only other combination I have seen). The 1-1 pull took place by Lost Luggage and while Vik looked at me, they (excitingly!!!!) took the loveliest older guest (who I had been talking to in line outside) in instead.

Taking this as my sign for a natural transition back upstairs, I returned to Four to watch Tim (as mentioned in the bullet points) cleaning his tools and pissing me off by messing up their symmetry. During the cleaning sequence, he had about 2-3 people in the shop including me but as Lady Macduff made her entrance, this number quickly grew to 15-20. Only a few who arrived with her left as she did, waiting around to see Tim C do something interesting. Having moved away for Lady Duff’s scene, I stood at the corner of the shop counter, arms resting on top and Tim moved outwards, gesturing for me to remove my arms. I follow instructions and as he rests the door down, letting it go with a thud, he takes my hand. There is a short pause, I nod as we lock eyes and then again with a quiet, smug smirk, we disappear into the Boy shower room.

TAXIDERMIST 1-1 STARTS HERE

The second we are in this room, the threatening vibe of this Taxi is more potent. I had only ever had this 1-1 once before with Vik, who again (in my mind) is an incredibly non-threatening Taxi. Tim’s Taxi was quieter, it felt like I was someone who was being inspected, scientifically broken down into benefits and weaknesses. For a minute, I feel strangely foreign in this situation, slightly overwhelmed by the intensity of this dim room. Tim takes my mask off, and in what I believe is a habit of his, ducks his head slightly to see my face before its entirely off. The familiarity of this (especially just from that morning) is centring and I break into a nervous smile — this is a theatrical performance, there is no need to be afraid.

He nods and I feel the air relax a little — now that I am less tense, I am able to enjoy the scene a whole lot more. Taxi moves my arms up and down, inspecting still but I don’t feel stiff and it is easy for me to follow the dramatic flow. He, very gently, leads me into the dark cubicle and sits me down, telling me to stay still as he leaves to wash his hands. The sound of water rushing starts and like in my previous instance in this room, I peek through the gap to see what Taxi is up to. While Vik had been by the sink, possibly actually washing their hands, Tim was just standing around which made me unconsciously chuckle. Tim moves back into the cubicle seamlessly in the dark and as the light comes on, I jump a little.

The injection comes out and for a second, I am convinced by the way that he looks at the needle and by his prior, well-established fascination with sharp things, that he is going to prick himself on it or inject it or something insane. Instead, he brings it down, squirting the dark green onto my beloved beloved gumdrops. Both are covered entirely in the green, eliminating choice, so I grab the one nearer to me, give a cursory nod at Taxi and begin to chew. The green stains are all over my hands and as I look up expecting Taxi to eat the other, he simply pushes the tray away and smiles wickedly. I gasp and suddenly we are standing up, the cubicle door is pushed open and we are facing the moose inside. Dialogue is delivered that I cannot fully recall but in a rough, manic manner that makes my body shudder. I am commanded — “Come with me” — and I take Tim’s hands, pulled out of the shower-room and through into the rave. The pull is powerful but I am relatively used to being dragged by Tim C as Malcolm so I find my footing quickly.

TAXIDERMIST 1-1 ENDS HERE

At the rave, Tim! Taxi quite literally shoves unwilling guests out of the way, pushing us mostly to the front. The crowd is incredibly pushy but thanks to Tim’s death grip on my shoulder, I survive to watch the raise up of Sexy by the rest of the coven. I feel the grip lighten as the scream starts and I follow Taxi straight out — I have seen the rave in the morning twice and Hour Six in the hotel no longer have the capacity for it. PLUS, he is making his way down to my favourite Taxi scene: the Teddy Bear. There is absolutely no one around as we go down the stairs to 3rd and I witness my friend loitering around in Macduff’s office on pure chance as me and Taxi skate by to the children’s bedroom. I grab her and rush over, watching Tim’s green-stained hands deftly stitch the bone into the poor bear.

Taxi finishes up and stomps over (as is key) to the front of the apartment fixing his own tie as well as the bear’s bow in the mirror. There is a quiet moment where me and my friend stand behind him, all visible in the mirror and he looks up, makes eye contact and then fixes his hair. Once he’s satisfied, Taxi picks up the bear perfectly on cue to the soundscape beginning to play a sweet waltz number and WALTZES THE LITTLE BEAR. Adorable, even if the bear has a bone in it and he is a psycho. We watch relatively endeared and leave with Tim after he places the bear upside down on the sofa.

As we get up to fourth, there is a waiting crowd of curious folk in the shop but Taxi slips straight into the office instead, opting not to clean up his messy bouquet and instead…. take a nap. Legs up on the desk, dead squirrel over his eyes like a mask, there are about twenty of us who stand around watching the man doze before he is up again. The dead squirrel, quite unfortunately for Elspeth-the-fox-lovers like me, goes over the her snout and Taxi stumbles over to the much beloved moose. We all watch, genuinely petrified and personally concerned for Tim’s lack of germ awareness, as he smooches for quite some time the Moose. A white mask turns around and leaves — it lasts long enough for that. Again, Tim C Taxi has left me completely gagged.

He turns around as the makeout… finally ends and we lock eyes. The hand goes out and I am being walked down for the second show in a row. I struggle down the stairs with my skirt because the people behind us seem to not understand personal space, which leads to Tim turning around to level glares and to grip my hand tighter so I don’t faceplant down the stairs. We get to the hanging and much like at the rave, Tim flings people out of the way until we are right up front. The normal removing unwitting White Masks from the Banquo spot process takes place and then Tim’s Taxi is right behind me, again death gripping my shoulder as Natebeth is hung.

The walkout is quick and relatively giggly. We slip away from the crowd very very quickly and as we climb up the crypt stairs, I look up at Tim, still struggling with this damn skirt, and we both stifle a laugh. We go up the stairs with him slowing down for my struggles and as we reach the Manderley, he finally laughs gleefully. I am pinned to a wall and my mask comes off before I am chuckling. We hug and I am given a little souvenir — the Blood will have Blood note. I tell Tim his Taxi is a complete nutjob and my now favourite take on the character before he slips off saying Happy Birthday.

The performance in bar by Karen was wonderful and I spent some time chuckling away with other fans from the server and with my friend (who had her own expectedly wondrous time following Vik! Porter after slipping away from Tim post-first-1-1), ending what is surely one of the best birthdays I have ever had. What a ride!

[lisacatara-actress]

ALMOST LISA : Pt 7, “Almost left the Movie!”

*I retain all rights to my photography and story, story details, biographical information, fashion designs, art work, and anything and everything I have posted which is my own creation*)

This week was our cast and crew screening for “Wakanda Forever”. Marvels latest and- by far- greatest blockbuster to date. An unprecedented and wildly successful franchise emphasizing black heroes and black leads. They did not need to include brown people in their success. But they CHOSE to. And I am profoundly humbled and happy for the inclusion in something so Magical.

I tried to get pretty. Getting dressed for events these days is painful. I used to enjoy getting dolled up, but now my body isn't my own, it does what it wants. None of the clothes I had fit well enough, but I managed to get creative and ...well, presentable. It’s a once in a lifetime experience, being a part of this team of talented filmmakers and collaborators. I was not missing it.

(I spent some time in harnesses working on the film. On the 1st or 2nd week, my colon swelled under the pressure and I had to secretly go to the urgent care on my one day off to get meds so I could continue to work the next 5 weeks. And about halfway through the cast screening, I felt familiar stomach cramps and chest pains. I’d been so careful on that morning and the night before not to eat or drink anything which might upset me. It didn't matter. Ironically, not being able to eat or drink much on our long days/ weeks/ months of filming proved to be helpful for me. No food, no bloat and pain! I could finally see my abs again)

Mid- screening, I shimmied out of my middle row seat (of course, best seats in the house!!) and walked around the lobby for 20 minutes. Then watched from the back of the theater awhile before I could rejoin my team. I made it through the celebration and red carpet photos (whew!), but regret not feeling well enough to dance all night afterwards with my people. I LOVE to dance!

“Success is being broken, bone-tired and worn out, but STILL showing up for battle.”

You know, that probability analyst was right. I am unbelievable. No wonder I intimidate others. I don't fit into any boxes. Not by my ethnicity, not by my career, not in my diet, my varied interests, nor by my lifestyle... I can't even be offended on social media when misogynists try and label me because I don't have trope-y labels or subscribe to most group ideologies. Alas. Additionally, I'm a natural leader simply because I GO DO stuff and can multitask well. So often others don't think to include me in things for the assumption that I'm not a “team player" or that I don't need any help. But, I am. And I do. Never had trouble finding friends and Tribe until I moved to Los Angeles. It’s a different kinda place. Relationships in The Biz are networking opportunities. In the absence of the community I crave, I just did stuff and experienced life solo. Though, full disclosure, I would really like to meet my someone now. I’m 47 and Ive been single the last 18 years.

This is usually where the men panic and ask “NO SEX FOR 18* YEARS?”. No. No relationship. In 18 years, Ive yet to meet anyone who sparks a light inside me or peaks my interest enough to want to spend more time with them. Physical attraction is not enough to grab my interest. I'm talking REAL intimacy. I know what I like, I’ve traveled a lot, I’ve taken risks and tried many things, I’ve rebuilt my life twice now and know who I am and what I stand for, I'm loyal and monogamous... and I can no longer tolerate anything less than authenticity, honesty, and integrity in a partner. Plus, life is too short for bad sex, fake connections and fake people. Anything not adding to your light is taking from it. That’s how energy works. 

Everything is easier when you have someone to go through life's challenges with and share Joys and thoughts with. I've never had that luxury. Now, my health keeps me isolated, I couldn't fathom getting into a relationship with all of my special considerations. I'm not myself. I haven't recognized myself for a decade. My focus remains staying employed.  My work is a beautiful distraction, and I need income.

I continue to send my resume and interview materials for work via any email I can get. In the past several months I’ve had a few calls for one-day gigs back in LA (not my local anymore and costs more to go than what I’d be making), and a couple of one-day gigs in new Orleans and North Carolina which required me driving to and from (14-16 hours round trip for either). Because I was on a waiting list for yet another Doctor, I had to pass.  Projects were shooting in Atlanta, I simply wasn't on them. Last week I received a booking on what seemed a good theatrical audition I’d put on tape. When I went to my fitting, the role had gone from substantial costar with dialog and a character name, to one line and a generic character name. It‘ll be a paycheck. Not work. Nothing for my reel. Not a career- booster. But the first job in seven months. It’s SURREAL. This all used to be much easier. Sometimes I have those typical dis-empowering thoughts of going back in time and “doing it all again”. But I wouldn't want to relive the most challenging parts of this  journey again.  I do, however, greatly miss the stage.

Making movies/TV and live performance share some similarities, but theater is Life for an actor. The energy is raw, magnetic, never stagnant. So many elements have to work together in unison, complementing and/or contradicting one another, in that environment. Magic doesn't begin when the curtain goes up. It happens long before. During rehearsals. In tech runs. While bonding with cast mates. I have great memories of these moments and reminders of why I loved performing on stage so much.

One moment in particular always comes rushing back when I think of my shortened stage career. After months of memorization, stage marking, wardrobe, and countless musical rehearsals, there comes a day when you step on stage and there is suddenly an orchestra where the piano reduction had been. That day is absolute MAGIC. I can remember well how the sound rose up underneath me, lifted me, surrounded me, moved through me, and ultimately carried my voice. There's really no other way to describe it then Euphoria. 

When I lost my voice, during/ after 9/11, I lost a valuable part of myself I’ve never been able to recover. And a part of my lifeline. When anyone hears of this loss, and tells me (kindly, but ignorantly) to “just sing again”, it’s painful. Voices can be lost and damaged, permanently. It happened to me. The constant reminder of what I want but cannot have creates dissonance within me, even decades later. Amplified- as to be expected- by the fact that it happened again with the Writers Guild Strike, and now again with this Pandemic. As tenacious as I am, I’m TIRED. BUT...

I don't believe that God would instill a superior talent and a bone deep desire to accomplish something without providing a Way.

      (to be continued...)

(PS If you like what you're reading, I welcome contributions to the efforts via Venmo @LTarantinoDesigns)

[hollywoodxwhore]

wanted - part 6

Colson x Original Female Character x Pete

Warnings: swearing, alcohol usage

Word Count: 3774

Find parts 1-5 in my masterlist!

Pete's not even really in this part. Just Colson and tension and angst!

Pete and I haven’t talked about it.

It’s been almost two weeks since we spent the night together, and since then, it’s like nothing happened. He’s still the same sweet, friendly Pete, but he hasn’t made a single move on me. I find myself regretting ever having done anything with him. I obviously did something wrong if he hasn’t tried since. 

Machine Gun Kelly has another show tonight, this one out of town, and Alicia, Logan, and I are tagging along. We’ll be staying in a hotel, and the plan is for me to sleep on an air mattress in Alicia, Rook, Logan, and Sophie’s room. It is what it is. The fifth wheel. Always the single one.

Pete isn’t going, and I find myself feeling relieved about it. I know we’ll all go out drinking after and I don’t need my drunk self making anything worse. 

After dropping our things at the hotel, we rush to the venue. Everyone is thrilled that the band has been asked to play at a larger venue, one that required them to travel. They’ve been asked to open for another local band. It’ll be more money, too. 

Since Alicia and Logan are dating band members and I’m a close friend, we’re all allowed backstage. It’s pretty cool because it’s an actual stage and not a basement this time. There are actual places to hang out and get ready. I’m just sitting and soaking up the atmosphere when I spot a very distressed Colson. I frown, watching him for a moment before deciding to go over and see what’s going on.

“Colson, you good?” I ask. He’s tearing his hands through his hair.

“No, the fuckin’ pants I brought have a rip right in the ass,” he grumbles.

I frown, reaching for them, and sure enough, a tear right along the seam. I wince. “Can I run back to the hotel to get you another pair?” I ask.

Colson shakes his head irritably. “No. All I brought other than these is a pair of sweatpants. Too tall to borrow anyone else’s,” he says. “Fuck, I’m screwed.”

“No, you’re not,” I say. I check the tag of the pants for his size. “Where are your keys?”

Colson pats his pockets and hands them over, studying me. “Where are you going?” he asks.

“Shopping,” I say.

Relief floods his face. “Alex, thank you,” he says, putting his palms together. “I…” He pauses. “I have no cash.”

I wave him off. “Not worried about it,” I insist, already walking away. He calls after me with another thank you but I’m already hurrying out to his car and checking my phone for shopping centers. 

This man is tall. I’ll need to find a place that makes clothes for tall guys who are also skinny. I drive to a nearby mall and within 20 minutes, I have three different options. I pay and rush back to the venue. 

They’ve just finished soundcheck and Colson spots me immediately. “Did you find some?” he asks.

“Yeah, come on, you can try them on,” I say, leading the way to the changing room. I expect him to take the bag and close the door but instead, he gestures for me to go in first. 

“You have to tell me if they look good,” he says, taking the bag from me. He pauses upon looking inside, glancing up at me. “You got three?”

I nod. “Wanted you to have options.”

Colson looks at me, something like softness taking over his features. He pulls out the first pair and drops his sweats to the floor. My cheeks feel slightly hot and I do my best to completely avoid looking at him as he shimmies into the tight jeans. He zips and buttons them, then turns to face the mirror.

“What do you think?” he asks. 

“They look great,” I say honestly. “They fit you perfectly. Try on the other two just in case.” He nods and does as he’s told, but the first pair is the best. “I’ll return the others before we go home tomorrow,” I offer.

“I can do it,” Colson insists, peeling off his shirt to change into his concert shirt. First, he puts on deodorant, and it’s really hard not to stare at him, but I keep my eyes averted. “I can’t thank you enough, Alex.”

“It’s no problem,” I assure him, crossing my legs and picking at my nail polish, anything to keep my eyes off of him. 

“Are you excited for the show?” he asks, much more chatty than usual.

“Yeah, I am,” I say. “You know I think you guys are amazing.”

“It means a lot that you came,” Colson says, and when I look up, he’s looking at me, sincerity in his eyes. “You’re a good friend.” Where is this coming from?

“Of course,” I say with a shrug. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

Colson hesitates before looking away from me, turning toward the mirror as he buttons up his shirt. “Is something going on with you and Pete?” he asks.

I blink in surprise. “Wh-what?” I ask.

Colson shrugs. “It just seems like maybe there is,” he says casually, but almost like he’s forcing himself to sound so casual. I flash back momentarily to Sophie’s belief that Colson likes me. I still have a hard time believing her.

I think back to the night Pete and I hooked up, to how distant he’s been since. How he hasn’t brought it up or even really talked much to me. I sit up a little straighter and watch him mess with his hair. “No,” I say finally. “There’s nothing going on with us.”

Colson meets my eyes in the mirror, his gaze almost a challenge. “Do you want there to be?” he asks.

I stare back at him, stunned. I can’t believe he’s actually asking the question. My mouth opens but I don’t say anything. And luckily, I don’t have to because Slim and Baze burst in. They pause momentarily, looking between the two of us, then immediately continue their conversation, going to grab their clothes. I take the opportunity to leave the room, keeping my head down so Colson can’t meet my eyes.

Half an hour later, Logan, Alicia, and I are in the audience, waiting for the show to start. Logan and Alicia are chattering excitedly about the show and their partners, but I stay quiet. I’m still reeling over my conversation with Colson. Why was  he asking? Couldn’t he just ask Pete, his own roommate? I wonder if he has asked Pete and if so, what Pete might have said. Yeah, we hooked up and it was bad. I don’t know how to let her down easy. Or, we hooked up and I’m totally not into her. Her body is gross. 

Luckily, the show starts, interrupting my negative thoughts, and I pour myself into supporting my friends.

After the show ends and we pack everything up, we find a local bar and get a table. It’s already almost midnight, but this is a fairly busy city, so the bars are open late. Slim disappears to the bar to order a round of shots and he returns beside a waitress carrying a large tray. 

“Tequila for everyone!” Slim says. A few of us grimace and some cheer. We all take limes and sprinkle salt on our hands as the shots are doled out around the table. We all hold up our shot glasses. 

“To our biggest show yet,” Colson says, grinning widely. He’s at his best onstage and right after he gets off. Energetic, excited, and so smiley. He’s adorable, all pink cheeks and messy hair. “To the best group of friends I could ask for. EST for life.”

“EST for life!” We all repeat the words in unison, clinking our glasses together before downing our shots. Most of us grimace, sucking hard on our limes to soothe the sharp taste of cheap tequila. 

“I got next round!” Colson announces, hurrying off to the bar. 

“It’s gonna be a loooong night,” Slim says with a laugh. 

He’s not wrong.

Within an hour, we’re all drunk. Well past it, actually. We’re wasted. We’ve created our own dance floor and we’re dancing to a bunch of songs we all loved in high school, having taken over the jukebox. Luckily, there aren’t many other people here. I’m spinning slowly, arms in the air, dancing to music that used to play at my proms and formals, and I can’t help but reminisce on all the times I was so alone while all my friends had someone.

Nothing has changed.

Sophie and Logan are kissing. Rook and Alicia are dancing and talking, all smiles and whispers. Maybe some of the others are single, but I’m the only single girl here and it makes my stomach hurt. I stumble off the dance floor, feeling a little nauseous. Fuck, I’m way drunker than I thought.

I stumble down the hall to the bathroom and push the door open, tripping inside. I turn to lock the door, but before I can, it’s being pushed open. I don’t have time to think about anything as Colson pushes inside, concern etched into his features. He’s still wearing his concert outfit, the pants I picked out for him. 

“You okay?” he asks, locking the door behind him. I back up, colliding with the wall, and sink down, pulling my knees into my chest. Tomorrow, when I’m sober, I’ll be humiliated at the fact that my chin is wobbling and tears are filling my eyes. But right now, I’m too miserable to care. 

Colson’s eyes widen a little and he drops down in front of me, putting his hands on my knees. “Hey,” he says gently, trying to meet my eyes. “Alex. Look at me?” I finally lift my watery eyes to his. His eyes are so blue, and so full of sincerity and care. I’ve never seen him like this before, and if I weren’t so goddamn miserable, I’d be enjoying seeing a new side of Colson.

A little sob chokes out of me and I clap a hand over my mouth, closing my eyes as tears squeeze down my cheeks. “Shit,” Colson mutters, and then he’s next to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders to pull me in. I let him pull my head to his shoulder as I cry, too drunk to stop myself. “Are you sick?” he asks.

I consider this for a second, but no, I’m not nauseous. I feel sick to my stomach, yes, but that’s a direct result of my own panic and self-pity. I’m not at risk for vomiting, so I shake my head no. Colson nods and rests his cheek on my head, hand rubbing up and down my arm slowly. 

Blessedly, I get my tears under control and I pull my head away, sniffling as I wipe my cheeks. We’re quiet for a moment, but I can feel Colson looking at me. “Sorry,” I say finally, voice small.

Colson shakes his head. “No, don’t be,” he says gently. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“It’s stupid,” I mutter, hanging my head.

“Try me,” Colson says.

I look at him then, and he seems taken aback by my sudden attention, blue eyes blinking startledly. “Why are you being so nice?” I ask bluntly.

Colson frowns, rubbing the back of his neck. He considers this for a moment, throat bobbing. “Am I…usually not nice?” he asks. I give him a look and he falters. “Okay. I know I can  be a dick sometimes. A lot of the time,” he corrects himself, shaking his head. “But you’re my friend, and you’re upset. I saw you run off the dance floor and I wanted to make sure you were okay. You don’t have to tell me.” His face has hardened slightly, and his jaw clenches as he looks away. Immediately, I feel guilty.

“I just get sick of feeling so unwanted,” I say, like word vomit, before I can stop myself. I really don’t want to be vulnerable with Colson, but I also don’t want him to leave. He lifts his eyes to mine. “It seems like all of my girlfriends have someone who’s head over heels for them and then there’s me. I just…I just don’t know what’s so wrong with me.” My lip quivers again and I look away.

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Colson says, shaking his head. 

“Yes there is!” I snap, and Colson looks surprised. I throw up my hands and make a frustrated sound. “There must me because no one fucking wants me! I hook up with-” I stop myself for a second, not really wanting to admit that Pete and I hooked up. “-with a friend who I thought could be more and then he pretends it never happened. Every guy I know goes for a different girl over me. There has to be something wrong with me.”

Colson is quiet for a long time. Such a long time that I think maybe he’s done talking. I wait for him to get up and leave. But, finally, when he speaks, his voice is quiet. “Are you talking about Pete?”

My head jerks over as I meet his eyes. He’s not really asking. He knows. “Did he tell you that?” I ask tightly, jaw clenching.

Colson hesitates, then nods. “Alex, I love Pete,” he says. “I really do. But he’s got some serious mental health issues. He’s not exactly reliable. I wouldn’t take it personally.”

“It’s hard not to,” I shoot back, furiously wiping at the tears that have fallen. “He shouldn’t have done anything with me if he was going to fuck off like that.”

“You’re right,” Colson agrees. “I told him that. I told him that the way he’s acting is shitty.”

I blink at him. “You did?” I ask. Colson nods. “Oh.” My voice is croaky and I clear my throat, wishing that I was less drunk. “It’s fine,” I lie, shaking my head. “It’s not like I had feelings yet, really. It just makes me think I did something wrong.”

“Trust me,” Colson says. “You didn’t.”

I huff softly and shake my head. Colson can say whatever he wants, but he’s never seen me naked, never kissed me or touched me or felt me touch him. I’m sure I’m bad at it, otherwise, Pete would’ve stayed. He wouldn’t have cut me off like this. 

“I just want to go back to the hotel,” I mumble, rubbing my face. “I have to share a room with the fucking couples.”

Colson is quiet for a second. “Come stay in my room instead,” he says, and when I look at him, he looks surprised that he offered. He swallows. “It’s just Slim and Baze. I don’t know if you know this, but Justin is seeing someone. They’re staying in a different room.”

I chew my lip. “I don’t want to impose,” I say. “I can sleep on the floor. I brought an air mattress.”

Colson shakes his head. “That would be stupid. You can sleep in the bed. With me,” he adds, studying my face. “Or I can sleep on the floor.”

“No, it’s your bed,” I insist. I take a deep breath and then nod. “Alright. I would really appreciate it. Thanks.”

Colson smiles gently and gets to his feet, offering me his hand. “Let’s get out of here,” he says. I take his hand and as he pulls me up, he wraps me in a hug. I’m surprised, but after a moment, I relax against his chest, letting my arms surround his thin waist. I close my eyes, wishing Colson could always be like this – sweet, generous, kind. I wonder when this will fade. Probably tomorrow morning when he wakes up sober beside me. But I can’t worry about that right now.

Colson rounds everyone up and we catch Ubers back to the hotel. Upstairs, I grab my bags from my original room and meet Colson outside, where he holds the door to his room open. He catches my eye and smiles as I step inside the room. 

Two queen size beds greet me, just like in my previous room, and I’m suddenly nervous about sharing a bed with Colson. Queens are pretty small for a guy of his height. I feel guilty about making him share with me. I set my bags on the floor in front of a bed and fidget.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” Colson says. “Baze and Slim should be back soon, but they know I offered for you to sleep here.”

“Okay,”  I say, staring at the bed as Colson disappears into the bathroom. 

I sit on the edge of the bed and sigh, pulling my phone from my purse. No messages. I tuck it away and then search in my bag for my pajamas, laying them out on the bed. I want to shower, too. 

Baze and Slim must’ve gotten caught up at the hotel bar or something because by the time the shower turns off, they’re still nowhere to be found. I look up when Colson exits the bathroom and am shocked to find that he’s wearing nothing but a towel, slung low around his hips. 

My mouth dries out. I’ll never get tired of seeing this man shirtless. 

I try not to watch as he bends over his bag, pulling out some clothes. His hair is wet and shaggy and he looks so cute and sexy at the same time. My heart squeezes and I grab my bathroom bag and pajamas. “I’m gonna go shower, too,” I say. “Are you done in the bathroom?”

“Go for it,” Colson says without looking at me. 

I lock myself in the bathroom, shower, and brush my teeth. I feel better as soon as I’m dressed in a giant t-shirt and soft shorts. There are few things a good shower can’t fix. 

I leave the bathroom to find Colson sitting up in bed, one arm behind his head as he leans on the headboard, remote in his free hand. He’s still shirtless. He glances at me. “Hey.”

“Hey,” I say, tucking my bathroom bag away again. I hesitate, then climb into bed beside him, sitting against the headboard, matching his posture. “Where are Slim and Baze?”

“No idea,” Colson says. “Probably out partying. They weren’t ready to come back.”

Guilt stabs at my gut. “Were you ready to come back?” I suddenly feel like I forced Colson to end his night of fun. 

“Definitely,” Colson sighs. “I’m exhausted. Those guys could go all night.”

I nod, relieved, and snuggle down into the blankets, suddenly exhausted myself. I stifle a yawn. “Thanks again for letting me stay here,” I say. 

“Of course.” Colson smiles at me. “You good?” he asks.

I nod. “Better. Thanks.”

Colson nods. He turns off the TV, then snuggles under the covers and turns off his lamp, pitching the room into darkness. We’re both quiet, the only sound being the air conditioner. 

“Hey, Alex?” Colson asks after a few moments.

“Hm?”

He’s quiet for a long moment. “Do you…do you think the band is actually good?”

I frown and shift under the covers. “Of course I do,” I say. “Why?”

“I just feel like I’ve been trying so hard,” he mutters. “I want more people to hear our music. I want someone to sign us. But either we get rejected or get no response. I just…I guess I was just wondering if you think it’s possible.”

I sigh softly. Without thinking, I reach for him, and my hand brushes his shoulder. Suddenly, his fingers are intertwining with mine, our hands resting on the bed between our heads. 

“I’m sorry it’s been so difficult, Colson,” I say. “I can imagine it’s really hard to find a place in the industry.”

“Nearly impossible unless you know someone,” he says.

“You can’t give up,” I say. “Your music is amazing and more people should hear it.”

“You really think so?”

“Of course,” I say. “Why does my opinion even matter?”

“Because,” Colson says, “I think you’re smart and you have good taste. And I knew you would be honest with me.”

I hesitate. “I’m not going to lie, I’ve listened to the album almost nonstop since I met you all,” I confess. “The lyrics, it’s all really…deep.” It almost feels like Colson is holding his breath. “Do you write all the lyrics?”

“Yes,” he says. “Slim helps sometimes, but it’s mostly me.”

“I can really relate to them,” I tell him. All the lyrics about feeling alienated, feeling like you don’t belong. I’ve found so much comfort in their music, knowing I’m not the only one who feels that way. 

“I’ve never really felt like I fit anywhere,” Colson admits. 

“Me neither,” I say quietly. “I don’t think a lot of people like me.” It’s weird, confessing all this in the dark of this hotel room.

Colson is quiet, but then, he lets go of my hand in favor of wrapping his arm around me. I let him pull me into his chest, trying to swallow down the lump in my throat at his affection. It sucks that I only get it in the darkness and privacy of a hotel room, but I’ll take what I can get with Colson. I close my eyes and subtly breathe in his scent, enjoying the feeling of his warm chest beneath my cheek. 

“Our group loves you,” he says quietly, lips close to my forehead. “The first time you came over, no one could stop talking about how funny and fun you were, and how we all needed to invite you over again.”

“That’s nice,” I say, flushing. 

“Fuck whoever has made you feel unwanted,” he says. “You’re wanted here. Okay?”

I nod, snuggling a little closer so our legs intertwine. “Thank you,” I say quietly. My eyes fly open when Colson’s warm lips press against my forehead. He leaves several kisses there, and then his hand is gently tipping my face up. His lips trek down my cheek, slow and gentle and sweet. I hold my breath, unsure if this is really even happening. 

“Alex,” he whispers, breath against my lips. I barely breathe, waiting for his lips to touch mine. I feel him lean closer, and then the hotel door beeps, signaling that it’s being unlocked. The magic is broken and Colson pulls away quickly, almost pushing me out of his arms. Stung, I roll onto my side and pretend to be asleep. 

And just like that, nothing has changed at all.

[chris-evanslover]

Jump Your Bones

Summary: You and Chris have been dating for a couple of months and you finally get down to it.

Warning: SMUT

Word Count: 2k

‘I’m in a generous mood and I feel like sharing the pizza I just ordered. Come over?’

You laughed at the text you got from Chris, on cue, your stomach growling.

‘Be there in 20’

You and Chris have been officially dating for about 2 months now, but you’ve known him for years. You’ve been doing his hair and makeup for all of the Marvel movies since The Winter Soldier. It was the type of relationship where you both had it bad for each other and everyone else knew, except the both of you. After Endgame wrapped filming, Chris reached out to you and asked you out to dinner. It’s been two and a half months since that night and you couldn’t be happier, really seeing a future with Chris.

You got off the couch and put some leggings and a crew neck on, throwing your long hair into a bun and slipping on your slides you were out the door.

Pulling up to Chris’ house 10 minutes later, before you could finish knocking the door flung open revealing Chris and Dodger there to greet you.

“Hey sweetheart, Pizza just got here so you’re just in time before I ate all of it” He kisses you hello which you happily return before bending down to show Dodger some love. You moved into the kitchen and Chris handed you a plate and a water bottle which you took to the table where the pizza box was. You and Chris scarfed down the food over light conversation about how your weeks went, when you were finished you put your dishes in the sink and went to the living room to start the hour long debate about what movie you guys should watch tonight.

In a record breaking 48 minutes, you both decided on Night at the Museum, a classic plus Paul Rudd what’s not to like! Halfway into the movie you became aware of how closely you and Chris had moved together, you started cuddling with his arm around your waist and your head on his shoulder. Now you were practically in his lap and you’re pretty sure he was hard in his boxers. You and Chris hadn’t done anything except some heavy make outs. You guys had a mutual understanding that you wanted to do this at a pace that was comfortable for both of you and you didn’t feel the need to rush but fuck, if you didn’t want to say ‘screw it’ at that moment and climb him like a tree.

Feeling him under you sparked something, like putting on eye glasses for the first time, the world was clear. You were horny, extremely horny, and Chris wasn’t helping in the slightest bit. You didn’t know what to do, you were laser focused on how Chris felt beneath you, how his hands felt holding your body close. You needed to step away from him and gather your thoughts so you excused yourself and went to the bathroom. You stared at yourself in the mirror trying to calm yourself down and ignoring the ache between your thighs. You didn’t realize how long you were in the bathroom before hearing a light knock at the door.

“Baby? You okay?”

“Yeah I am sorry I’ll be out in a second”

You heard his footsteps get further away from the door and you made your way back to the living room, but you couldn’t find Chris in there. Wandering down the hall to the kitchen you got a magnificent view of his broad back as he was putting the dishes in the dishwasher, occasionally bending down to reach. Yeah, this DEFINITELY wasn’t helping your little issue. Your senses were dialed to 11, everything he did you looked at through a sexual lens. You didn’t know how much more of this you could take.

“Hello? Anyone home?” You snapped out of your thoughts seeing Chris standing in front of you waving his hands in your face. You let out a breath of air “Yeah i’m home, sorry my minds all over the place” “Yeah I noticed, you seem a little distant is everything alright?”. No everything’s not alright, I want to jump your bones. He smirked and said “Oh Really?”

SHIT! You said that out loud. You laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of your neck “I-um, I obviously didn’t mean to say that out loud”. He laughed and nodded his head “I figured, but if that’s what you want, who am I to say no?” “Don’t joke around about that” You went to move to the fridge to grab another water bottle, honestly anything to distract you from Zeus. You turned back to Chris who had his arms at his sides, looking you up and down. “Who said I was kidding?” He whispered those words dangerously low. You looked up to his eyes for some kind of sign that he wasn’t being serious, but you came up empty.

“Take me to bed, Chris” He scooped you up by the back of your thighs and kissed you so passionately it made you lightheaded. He walked you both to his bedroom and laid you down on the bed, grabbing the back collar of his shirt and pulling it off. Thank you God for this beautiful man, you praised in your head. Chris came back down to your level and kissed you again which any other day you would take your time kissing him but there was one thing on your mind right now.

You pushed his shoulders back lightly and tore your crew neck off before Chris attacked your collarbones and upper breasts with feverish kisses. His hands made their way to your back and he unclasped your bra, freeing your breasts. You got nervous all of a sudden, but hearing Chris’s groan at the sight of your breasts dismissed all bad feelings out of your head. He took his time kissing you and latched himself onto your left nipple. Moaning out of pleasure you held his head to your breast and looked down to see him staring up at you while he sucked. He switched to show your right breast the same love while you reached out to undo the knot holding his sweatpants up. You pushed his sweatpants down as far as you could reach, Chris shimmied them the rest of the way off before he pulled your leggings and thong down leaving you completely bare in front of him.

The way he looked at you made you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. You pulled him down to kiss him again before his lips traveled down your body, licking and kissing every inch of you. He teased you by kissing the inside of your thighs, but you needed him to pay attention to your desperate core.

“Chris, please” you moaned. “Tell me what you want baby” you groaned, feeling a little embarrassed. “Tell me baby and it’s yours” “I want you to eat me out, Chris please” you huffed, swallowing your pride. That’s all the encouragement Chris needed before he dove tongue first into your pussy. His tongue ravishing your slit and clit and he sucked the soul out of you. Holy shit he was good at this, you felt your orgasm building steeply already. Chris felt your body start to become restless, so to help you along he added his middle finger into the mix and my god were you seeing stars. Chris sucked your clit so hard as he rammed his finger, adding another, using both fingers to graze your G-Spot.

“Chris-I-I’m, fuck, gonna cum” Chris groaned against your pussy and he went full force assault on your core. “C’mon baby give it to me” The coil inside you snapped as you came the hardest you ever had before. Chris cleaned you up with his mouth as you rid out your orgasm. You lazily watched as Chris stood up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and he walked to the bedside table to grab a condom. He came back to you laying on the bed, looking spent and pushed down his boxers, freeing his hard on.

Now, you knew he was going to be big. But, this however exceeds the word Big. He was full girth and massive, you were nervous it was going to hurt. He slipped the condom on and leaned over you, giving you a kiss on the forehead and then your lips. “Are you sure?” for some reason you giggled at this question, Chris giving you a confused look “Yes i’m positive, fuck me till I can’t walk Chris” Chris didn’t need anything else as he slipped his length slowly inside of you, stretching you deliciously. He was moving slowly to make sure you were comfortable but fuck if he didn’t want to start pounding you because of how tight you were squeezing him. Chris cursed under his breath as he bottomed out inside of you and you groaned at the feeling, never having felt so full before.

“You can move” you whispered to him. He started moving in and out of you, kissing you wherever he could reach. He kept a steady pace but you needed more, “Faster baby I won’t break” Chris let out an animalistic growl at this and started to really pound into you, hands gripping your waist so hard you’re sure you will have marks tomorrow but you couldn’t care less. You felt your climax building again, Chris pounding relentlessly as his left hand left your left hip and found your clit, rubbing vigorous circles. You moaned loudly feeling his thrusts become sloppier and more erratic, letting you know he too, was close.

“Fuck Chris” “Come on baby, cum all over my cock” He kept up his speed, little droplets of sweat beading in his forehead, veins popping out in his forehead and neck. With another couple of Thrusts, you felt yourself let go and cum, eyes rolling back in your head. Chris groaned and came inside the condom, pumping in and out of you slower, letting you both ride out your highs. Chris collapsed on top of you and pulled out causing you to moan at the empty feeling.

You both laid there trying to catch your breath, Chris rolled off of you after a few minutes and headed to his en-suite to throw out the condom and grab a washcloth to clean you up. He returned and cleaned you up before tossing the washcloth in the laundry basket and laying back down with you. He pulled you into his chest, laying your head on his pec and wrapping your arm around his waist. You looked up at him, “Not for nothing, that was the best sex of my life”

You felt him laugh under you and you smiled, his laugh being your favorite sound. “It was the best of mine too, you’re a very special woman” you blushed at his compliment and kissed him lightly on the lips. Before your kiss could go anywhere you both heard a whining and scratch at the door. You both burst out laughing at Dodger wanting to come in the room. “I should feed him, why don’t you get dressed in some pajamas and stay the night? It’s pretty late and I don’t want you to leave” your heart melted at his words, you nodded and he handed you one of his shirts and some boxers while he threw on some sweatpants to feed Dodger.

Once you were dressed you made your way into the kitchen to find Chris heating up some of the pizza from before. “I don’t know about you but i’m starving” you laughed and hugged him in the middle of his kitchen, you held each other until the ding from the toaster oven went off. He grabbed the pizza and some plates for you both and you went to the living room to sit and eat.

“Should we finish Night at the Museum or are you going to get horny all over again?” You playfully slapped his bicep when he said this causing him to laugh. You settled in next to him eating your pizza, laying your head on his shoulder. Damn you were really glad you spoke out loud.

A/N: Ahhh My first time writing smut, let me know what you think i’m really curious to see if I did well or not so let me know!! Requests are open :)

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[stripper-patrick]

Speak to me 🤫 Chris Evans

Warnings: smut, language, daddy kink, straight up nastiness, choking, reverse cowgirl, spanking, dirty talk, silent treatment, dom!Chris, eating cat from da back, heel fetish, daddy kink

Tags: @rebellious-desires @mrsbanreswillseeyou @eclecticblkgirl

Relationship: Chris Evans x black plus sized reader

“Hello” Chris pulls out his iPhone answering the incoming call “hey Scott what’s up” I’m laying on the bed on my phone when I perk up hearing Chris say “yea I’m free” this bastard

“No the hell you aren’t” I sit up crossing my legs

“Yea that sounds great I’ll meet you there” he looks at me, my face is painted with anger and frustration. I’ve been trying to plan this dinner with him at this new restaurant called Yard House but they’ve been booked since they first opened. Now tonight when I finally get us a reservation he makes plans with his brother. He got me fucked up.

Chris hangs up and I turn my head waiting for an explanation “honey I’m sorry but it’s Scott”

“Are you deadass? I told you I couldn’t get ahold of this restaurant for weeks and the second I make us a reservation you go and agree to plans with your brother” I’m furious at the moment “you know what go head”

“Y/N”

“Go” I yell. He sighs rubbing his eyes as I turn around going back on my phone. Chris leaves the room and I groan. I proceed to the shower turning it on rolling my eyes. The hot water runs down my back ultimately giving me time to think.

....

I’m woken up to the front door opening and shutting. I grab my phone seeing the picture of Chris flash on my lock screen and the time reads back 4am. I have 4 messages and 5 phone calls all from him. The door opens and I can see the tall figure moving around shimmying off his clothes.

“Hey babe” I roll my eyes turning on my stomach clutching the pillow. I hear a deep sigh come from Chris’ mouth “baby girl I’m sorry I know how important that dinner was to you” He slides in the bed next to me and his hand rests on my butt but I’m quick to move it “don’t touch me” I scoot closer to the edge closing my eyes hearing one last sigh before I drift to sleep.

....

The sun bleeds into the room brightening it up causing me to open my eyes. I get up and go to the bathroom doing my business and completing my morning facial routine. Washing my face, moisturizer, and toner. I walk out the bathroom and slip into some leggings, and a low cut crop top. I have a nail appointment today and I’m debating on making him pay just for fucking with me but I can’t allow myself to do that.

I step out of the room, the bright sun illuminating the hallway and I descend downstairs where I smell bacon and waffles cooking. I go into the kitchen crossing my arms watching him put strawberries in the batter. My favorite.

“Morning princess” I mumble sitting at the island and he sets a plate in front of me. His pretty blue eyes bore into mine just silently begging me to say something

“I’m sorry how many times do I have to say it?” He asks. I cut up my waffles and pour syrup on them without even glancing his way. I know this is torturing him. To go from talking and laughing one day to not speaking at all is destroying him especially when we live in the same household. I take a bite of the warm breakfast almost moaning at the taste. Damn he put his foot in these. “Why are you all dressed up?”

“Nails” I huff

“Ah I’m going with you”

“No you’re not”

“I am and I’m paying for them and while we’re at it we can go to the mall” I roll my eyes and he smirks sitting next to me digging into his plate “what will it take for you to speak to me baby doll. I’ll do anything” a smirk appears on my lips but I keep quiet.

“You know what fine” the rest of the breakfast is filled with silence and he takes my plate cleaning it.

I sit on the couch flipping through channels as Chris disappears upstairs. Finally some peace and quiet. The tv gets boring so I turn it off and go on my phone. After about 20 minutes of scrolling I look at the time seeing I should bust a move if I wanna make it to the nail salon on time.

I stand up and walk to the door leaving. I get into my car turning on the air immediately. Chris jogs out and opens the driver door “what are you doing?” I question

“Get out”

“I don’t have time for this I’m gonna be late then I have to pay a late fee”

“Get. Out” I huff taking off my seatbelt and getting out the car. Chris gets in the drivers seat and nudges too the passenger seat “you aren’t going with me”

“Y/N I won’t tell you again” his deep voice sends a heartbeat to my core but I can’t fold like this. I groan stomping to the passenger side. He gets out opening the door for me and I swing my legs inside as he shuts it. Chris gets back in the drivers seat and putting his seatbelt on before pulling off.

...

After getting my NAILS done we ended up at the mall but I still haven’t said one word to him. I’ve kept to myself and haven’t touched him or even looked his way. This may seem extensive but he needs to understand that I deserve some time with him as well. “Babydoll lets go in here” swinging his bags in his hand he takes me in the Louis Vuitton store. I set my eyes on this beautiful bag and I see some shoes I adore.

“I’m gonna step out real fast here” he hands me his credit card and I snatch it. I’ll teach his ass a lesson. I grab the bag and the shoes in my size taking them to the register. I use his card to pay for the stuff then head across the way to Prada where I find another gorgeous purse. I grab that but I don’t see anything else I want so I just check that out. The next store I walk to is Dior where I see some cute blue and orange slides and a beautiful gold necklace. The problem is it’s 2,000 dollars and I’ve already spent at least a grand. I think about Chris and he would be somewhat upset but I’m upset at the moment so he’ll be fine.

I grab the necklace and shoes taking them to the register. I use his card and the transaction completes. The woman hands me my bags and I smile thanking her. I walk out of the store and see Chris coming back. Poker face is on.

“I got a call from the bank saying my card was nearly shut off because they thought someone stole it. You spent about 10 grand”

“Oops” I stand up and he takes all my bags from me.

“It’s time to go let’s go” I stand my ground folding my arms again

“I wanna keep shopping”

“Any other day would’ve been a smooth yes, anything to get you to talk to me but today is not the day. Let’s. Go” he says sternly

“No” Chris adjusts the bags on his arms and grabs me by my arm pulling me along outside. I let my arm go once we get in the car. He sets the bags in the trunk and I get in.

....

We get home and I walk through the double doors. He sets the bags in the living room and I go upstairs not allowing another word to be said. I strip down bare and get under the navy blue fitted sheets and comforter taking a deep breath before I feel myself drift to sleep.

...

I hear feet shuffling into the room and I see Chris dressed in a fitted black button, dark jeans, and Stacey Adams paired with a gold bracelet and a watch on his wrist. I notice he decorated my choker.

“princess” I’m still mad at him for last night and haven’t talked to him the whole day. I groan pushing my arms above my head stretching my limbs before swinging my legs off the bed letting them dangle. ��Y/N get dressed and ready” he speaks again this time more stern. I’ll admit it turned me on. I stare at him and huff “Do you really wanna test my patience darling? Get dressed now”

“I’m not going anywhere with you” I cross my arms in a fit of rage breaking my silent streak and turn away from him. Chris wraps his hand around the back of my neck with a smirk. A smile spreads across my face “did it sound like I was asking? I’ve had enough of your bratty ass today”

I roll my eyes earning a slap to my ass “don’t roll your eyes at me just do as I say” I go into the closet figuring out what to wear. The wet spot in my panties has me tempted to take them off and go commando today in the warm autumn air. Temptation gets the best of me and I pull them off grabbing a short DRESS and some HEELS. I grab a jacket just in case it’s cold wherever we’re going. “Christopher where are we going”

“Don’t worry about it” he looks up at me and his jaw drops when he sees my dress. I sit at my vanity and start on a simple makeup look not really wanting to get too much into it tonight. I keep my curls the way they are as I finish everything.

“Ready?”

“Mhmm” I follow Chris hearing him sigh. I walk downstairs and he extends his arm helping me downstairs. I walk past him into the car in the passenger seat where I just sit. At this point I’m completely over the situation but he needs to learn his lesson. Chris gets in and starts the car and I look at him “where are we going”

He ignores me and I roll my eyes huffing. He sets his hand on my thigh and I leave it there. His hand creeps higher but that’s when I stop him “if you think you can get any of this tonight you got me fucked up”

“We’ll see about that”

....

Chris makes a right and I see the restaurant. I’m very confused as to why we’re here. He pulls into a parking spot and gets out. Chris opens the door for me and at this point I’m curious as to what he’s got going on. I see a long ass line of people waiting outside.

“I’m not interested in waiting in line”

“That’s a good thing you don’t have to” he shuts and locks the car door walking up with me. We walk through the doors and immediately the host recognizes him “Mr. Evans right this way”

We walk through the crowd of people into our own little section with a dim light and a table for 2. “How did you do this?”

“I bought it. Now can you stop being mad at me it’s torturing”

“Maybe” he pulls out my chair for me and I sit watching him the seat in front of me.

“I’m sorry babydoll I was inconsiderate to how much effort you put into getting us a reservation” he says

“Truth he told I stopped being mad after I ran up your card but I kept my poker face”

“Well you’re pretty damn good at it” the waitress comes over and is star struck at the Chris Evans sitting right in front of her.

“Hello my name is Tiara what can I get you guys started off with?”

“Lemme get a coors and” he looks at me “a white wine?” I nod and she writes it down flashing him a big smile before leaving to put in our drinks. “Clearly you have a fan”

“I see but she’s not important right now. You are and if you think you can pull some shit on me like that again you’ve clearly got me fucked up”

“Oohhh the spicy white is coming out. I like it” the waitress comes back with our drinks and we order the food.

....

We’ve finished dinner and Chris pays the bill. The waitress is standing there and I’ve noticed her shirt is undone a little more than usual as in I can see her purple lace bra and I know Chris can see it too.

He fishes out a 20 from his pocket handing it to her and I watch her slip it in her bra. My jaw drops as she winks at him completely stepping over boundaries.

“Excuse me” she averts her attention to me and I’m start to shake. That’s how mad I am. “Try that shit again with my man and I promise you’ll be missing a couple teeth and a job”

Her eyes go wide and she leaves without saying anything else. Chris has his bottom lip tucked in between his perfect teeth with a smirk pulled against his lips.

“You’re so sexy when you’re mad”

“Yea whatever” I shake my head

“Do me a favor” I listen waiting for his request “take off your panties”

“It’s funny that you think I’m wearing any” his blue eyes turn dark as he nods

“That ass is mine” he laughs. The waitress comes back with a small white cake. Nothing special written on it or anything. I spin it around trying to find something then I look at Chris who had a cheeky smile on his face.

“Cut into it” I grab a knife and cut into the cake revealing a blue matte box. I look at him and grab the box opening it. I see a beautiful ring and engraved inside of the box is: ‘Will You Marry Me?’ A flood of emotions drowns me and now I’m sitting here crying.

“Stop playing Christopher” I say

“Y/N I want you to make me the happiest man alive” he takes the ring and slides it on my finger

“Is this why you left me today?” He nods smiling

“I can’t see myself without you” he whispers “so what do you say?”

“Yes yes yes a thousand times yes” I hug him and he holds me tight as more tears fall. I give him a nice kiss and he smiles holding me closer.

....

As soon as we hit the front door Chris’ hands are all over me. I open the door and he shuts it sliding my dress off my body to reveal I’m completely naked just as I said. I go to take off my heels but he stops me “leave them”

Chris picks me up with ease and something in the moment just told me to let him pick me up. In the year and a half we’ve been together I’ve never let him pick me up because of my size but tonight is different.

He takes me upstairs to our shared bedroom where he lays me down “I’m going to ruin you for what you put me through today”

I smile and he turns me around face down ass up “clearly you’re enjoying it more than I thought” he collects my wetness on the tip of his finger trailing it up to my clit rubbing torturously slow. I feel his large hands part my ass and his beard scratches me. I drop my face into the mattress feeling his tongue work inside of me while his fingers massage my clit. My arms stretch back and I pull on my heels holding my legs up and arching my back more. I hear Chris moan at my current position. I don’t know how much loner I can do this position cause I’m a big bitch and this shit hurts.

He stops eating me out and I hear his pants unzip then drop “keep that position baby doll” He pumps his dick and I feel his head push inside of me with ease. He fits the rest of his cock inside of me and replaces my hands on my heels with his. My hands extend above my head as he starts pounding me out making my body rock back and forth. My hands have a mind of their own gripping the sheets.

“You like that you little slut?” He spanks me and I cry out biting my lip “you’ve been such a bad girl” he keeps a tight grip on my hips holding me in place. I couldn’t run even if I really wanted to.

“Fuck daddy it’s too much” he chuckles maniacally

“Nah you keep playing with me” Chris pushes my back into a crazy arch pushing a little more of his weight on my butt. He continues pounding on me until my body is seizing and I’m crying out his name.

“That’s it you’re gonna be a mess by the time I’m finished with you” he moans still thrusting in me. He stops and pulls out leaving me empty and my cum dripping on my thighs.

“Ride me reverse” he lays next to me placing his hands behind his head and I grab his dick and swing my legs over his thick body. I guide him inside of me placing my hands on his calves bouncing my ass.

“Fuck” I moan. He smacks my behind and keeps a firm grip on my hips guiding me harder and faster. Chris wastes no time taking control pounding into me from below. His balls are slapping against my ass while he holds my wailing arms behind me keeping them steady. My jaw drops as he growls in an animalistic form. My breasts bounce as he continues torturing me.

“You’ve been a bad girl babydoll and I don’t appreciate it” he moans. I can see his piercing blue eyes through my hazy vision. I’m still sensitive from my last orgasm so I’m close already.

“Fuck daddy you’re gonna make me cum” I scream. My legs press together not sure whether to try to get away or sink further onto him.

He keeps going and just as I’m about to release Chris stops pumping altogether. He lifts me up putting me back on my hands and knees.

Chris enters me again but this time he grabs my hair pulls my back against his chest. Once he has me where he wants me, he envelops his hand around my throat squeezing the sides constricting air. He wraps his free arm around my breasts as he starts his fast rhythmic thrusting again. His moans are prominent in my ear as his hand on my breasts drop to my clit.

At this point I’m seeing stars and my moans are uncontrollable. My body trembles from being rocked into with each powerful thrust. My shaky hands hold onto his wrist leading to my clit as he kisses my cheek, shoulder, and neck. “You look like such a pretty slut taking my dick like this”

“Cum in me please” I beg. He lets go of my throat and grabs his belt nearby tying it around my hands. My hands are bound behind my back as he uses my arms to hold me as I’m leaned forward taking his dick.

“Cum with me Y/N I feel how close you are babydoll” he was right. I’m right on the edge when he gives me a good slap to my behind making my legs clamp together shaking tremendously. His name is all that I can call out making me see stars. “That’s my good girl oh shit” he lets out a string of curses and I feel my walls being painted in his children as he continues assaulting me in the best way possible.

Our juices collect around the base of his dick dripping on the sheets. As I drop my head completely spun. Chris extracts every drop inside of me before pulling out. He lays beside me with a smirk on his face pulling his belt off my hands “where the fuck did you learn how to tie me up with a belt”

“You’d be surprised what the Internet can teach you” he says “please don’t ignore me again” he lays on my bare chest

“Well don’t do any stupid shit again” I smile taking my fingers through his hair

[ao3theskyisblue]

From the outside

Summary:

“You look like you could use a coffee.”

Kegan turned towards Officer Reyes, who was looking at him bemusedly, one arm leaning on the driver-side door and the other on the steering wheel, his fingers drumming on it rhythmically. He could also see the hint of concern in his gaze, no doubt seeing through his façade but also kindly didn’t ask questions Kegan wasn’t sure how to answer.

"Woke up late today."

Written for @911lonestarangstweek Day 2: Physical whump + “Does it hurt badly?” 

Just a heads up it’s OC-centric (outsider’s POV) 

Read on AO3

When Kegan woke up to complete silence, the light brighter than it should have been at 7am in the morning peeking in through the gap between his curtains, he should have known it was going to be a terrible day. There were no birds chirping, no neighbours yelling about broken lawn gnomes, nothing.

The quiet was always a cue for sudden disaster.

Fumbling for his phone on the bedside table, he lifted the screen only to fall off the bed with a loud thud and a string of curses at three realizations.

One: his snooze was a lie.

Two: he was going to be late on the last day of his trial week.

Three: he forgot to iron his uniform yesterday.

“Fuck me in the ear with a corn.” Kegan groaned, giving up on saving his duvet and instead shoving it in the general direction of the bed before sprinting to the bathroom. He shoved his toothbrush into his mouth, squeezing toothpaste on at the last second and hoping the brushes hopefully scraped across a few of his teeth.

He dampened his skin underneath a stream of cold water, but it wasn’t hardly enough for a towel to wipe off as he shimmied into his work clothes, slipping on his duty belt last. Grabbing a comb on his way out of the bathroom, he jumped the entirety of the stairs, miraculously without breaking a knee, and slid into the kitchen.

With his comb stuck in his curls.

His mother visibly startled, spinning around to look at him with eyes widened in shock, almost dropping the bowl of strawberries in her hand. Kegan snatched a few, ignoring his mother’s disapproving look before shoving them down his throat.  

“Shove them any harder and you’ll choke.” His mother says drily, placing the bowl onto the counter and Kegan works to swallow the three he managed to stuff in his mouth. He can feel the lumps slowly moving down his esophagus, the slight pain of the movement a nice distraction as he thought of all the excuses he could for why he would be showing up late today to the precinct.

Unfortunately, he knew who he would be shadowing today and lying to this man in particular twisted more guilt in his stomach than anyone else in the police department.

“Not the worst thing I’ve choked on.” Kegan shrugged, smiling at his mother innocently when she scrunched up her nose.

“Sorry I didn’t wake you, I thought you’d already left.” Kegan stilled at that, the smile on his face now a mere gesture of courtesy rather than truth as he looked away.

They both knew why she didn’t bother waking him up. He didn’t need to be studying to become a police officer to hear the blatant lie through his mother’s voice, and that phone call he happened to overhear a few days ago suddenly rang loudly in his ears.

Kegan didn’t bother with a response, instead heading out of the kitchen and towards the entranceway, grabbing his keys from the bowl by the door. He didn’t look up to know his mother was watching him, eyes piercing him like a hawk as he stood in uniform.

“I don’t know why you’re trying so hard to prove a point.”

The words came out quiet, as if just an absent thought that was accidentally said out loud, but Kegan looked up this time, eyes blazing with a ferocity that had his mother stepping back in response.

“I’m not doing this to prove anybody a point,” Kegan says lowly, anger prickling along his spine and making the hairs on his arms stand on end. “I’m doing it for me. You don’t need to understand, or support me. But say it to my face next time instead of behind my back. Stabbing me would hurt less.”

Kegan didn’t wait for his mother’s reaction before pulling the front door open roughly and slamming it shut behind him. The bright sun seemed to be taunting him with its brilliant presence, as if shining any brighter would overcloud the dark shadow that seemed to never stop looming over him ever since they packed their bags and left Venice.

It was going to be a terrible day.

 .

Two hours into his shift, and Kegan already wanted to drown himself in his bathtub while holding onto a plugged-in toaster.

Two fender benders that involved idiots and their screaming that probably left permanent scarring to his eardrums. A woman who thought her neighbours had gotten into a fight with all the banging on the walls until they arrived and saw things that almost made him grab the nearest bottle of sanitizer and scrub his eyes clean. Then there was the elderly man who thought someone was trying to break into his house only to find a woodpecker innocently drilling a hole on the side of his doorframe.

It couldn’t get any worse, could it?  

“You look like you could use a coffee.”

Kegan turned towards Officer Reyes, who was looking at him bemusedly, one arm leaning on the driver-side door and the other on the steering wheel, his fingers drumming on it rhythmically. He could also see the hint of concern in his gaze, no doubt seeing through his façade but also kindly didn’t ask questions Kegan wasn’t sure how to answer.

“Woke up late today. Didn’t have time to grab anything before we were called in.” Kegan sighed, not bothering with keeping his guard up. He’s shadowed Officer Reyes a few times during the trial week, and he was one of the few officers in Austin PD that he actually liked. One thing he’s learned from the first time he shadowed him was that the man had no time for bullshit. Emotions, including ones that told him to just punch straight through walls were valid as long as he talked about it.

Open communication and all that.

They were doing a routine patrol, eyes peeled and other senses alert for any calls that could come through the radio. So far, the calls had been mostly in other districts that already had their own patrols answering, and the next light was the indication they successfully drove one full loop. So, when Officer Reyes suddenly turned right when they were supposed to go straight, Kegan frowned.

“Uh, were we supposed to make that turn just now?” Kegan peered back, not like that could have done anything to change the direction they were driving but Officer Reyes just shook his head.

“There’s a café nearby.” At his skeptical look, the officer rolled his eyes. “The city will be fine if we take a five-minute break.” Officer Reyes says, making Kegan raise an eyebrow. Of the limited time they’ve spent time together, he never pegged him to be a complete rule-sticker, but this unexpected gesture still caught him off guard.

They stopped next to a fairly busy café, the store sign making him snort in disbelief as he got out of the cruiser, shutting the door behind him.

“Definitely not ominous.” Kegan says wryly, looking up at the vibrant ‘The Hideout Café – Seek Out Your Poison!’ sign above his head. There was a quiet chuckle beside him, and he turned to see Officer Reyes sporting a wide smile, amusement dancing across his features. He looked around the area and frowned when he saw a red minivan travelling suspiciously towards them.

“Hey, isn’t that car driving too fast?” Kegan moved to get a better look, frowning when the vehicle not only didn’t slow down, but instead seemed to be deliberately heading towards them.

He turned towards Reyes, about to ask what they should do in this situation but frowned when his eyes widened in horror.

His hand was already on his radio, but nothing could have prepared him for a shout, a hard shove, and the equivalence of his soul being knocked out of him.

And just like the day the cops showed up to his doorstep with bulletproof vests and guns raised in search of his father, his world stopped.

.

The individual granules of sand in an hourglass.

He remembered staring at them when he was younger, fascinated as the particles slowly trickled down with time. It was hypnotizing, but he would glance up occasionally to gaze at the clock hanging above the piano, watching the minuscule tilt of the hour-hand each time the minute-hand made its rotation.

It was a weird sensation, the brief moment where your life flashes by in old film. But just as quick as they came, they’re abruptly cut off as if given to him at the wrong time.

There were thoughts sluggishly trying to make sense in his mind, and Kegan wondered if memories could transcend the living and stay with the dead.

He winced against the sun’s rays, the crick in his back making itself known before he was assaulted by a cacophony of sound.

“-okay? Someone call 911!”

“They literally are 911-”

“I don’t think the other officer’s breathing.”

Kegan sat up abruptly at that, testing his fingers and toes and letting out a breath of relief when he felt them both. He couldn’t help but notice the red minivan speeding off, his training kicking in and automatically memorizing the license plate before it disappeared in the crowd.

“Are you alright, officer?”

Kegan turned his head towards the voice, seeing a barista leaning over him slightly, eyes wide with shock and concern. He opened his mouth to reply, before the entirety of his memories kicked back in.

Where was Officer Reyes?

Kegan scrambled up, staggering and clutching onto the barista’s shoulder when he reached out to steady him. His eyes darted around the crowded street, ignoring the phones and insistent chatter and focused on something a little way away from him.

No.

Stumbling forward, he forced his legs to move towards the man sprawled down on the sidewalk, one hand leaning down to feel for a pulse and the other reaching for his radio.

“This is 363-H-20. I need medics at Congress and 7th, officer down! Send out an APB for a red minivan with Texas licence plates Alpha-Charlie-Foxtrot-3875.” Kegan didn’t know how he hadn’t stuttered when his heart was currently beating outside of his chest, barely clinging onto the last moments of clarity.  He barely heard the affirmative through dispatch for both his requests, before leaning down to see if the man laying so still beneath him was still breathing.

He was, and his pulse was steady, but he wasn’t awake.

“Officer Reyes? Can you hear me?” Kegan pinched his earlobe, his instincts and training working on autopilot, and slapped the ground beside Officer Reyes’ ears a few times.

The man didn’t so much as stir.

Kegan made sure to consistently check his pulse and breathing, prodding his body gently for any injuries he might have missed, eyes flitting up every few seconds to watch for eye movement. He didn’t move the man, the paramedics would be the judge of that, and he couldn’t see anything else other than a nasty bruise starting to form just above his lower back.

“How is he?”

Kegan barely spared the barista, who was still crouching beside him for some reason, a look as he shook his head.

“I don’t-”

“Rossi?”

Kegan’s whirled his head, letting out a choked sound of relief when he saw Officer Reyes blinking blearily at him, looking beyond confused. There was a 7-second delay before he seemed to remember what had happened, and Kegan didn’t hesitate to hold him still when he tried to get up.

“Are you okay? Did you get hit?” Officer Reyes asked, and Kegan let out a sound of disbelief, hearing the barista beside him scoff incredulously. That sound almost validated everything he was thinking at the moment, and absently noted to buy the barista a drink for their service.

“Officer Reyes, was it? You were just thrown in the air like a sack of potatoes when that idiot driver decided the sidewalk would be the perfect place to take his new wheels for a spin,” The barista said, and Kegan glanced at the name card that read ‘Lawrence.’ Kegan startled when Lawrence turned towards him, a kind but worried smile still present on his lips. “If you hadn’t pushed this one out of the way and yelled that warning, things could have gone a lot worse.”

Kegan bit back a sharp retort on how it was already a worse case scenario because someone got hurt, but his mother had always told him to bite his tongue when emotions were running on fumes, and he knew nothing would come from yelling at a barista for something out of his control.

“Well, at least I can skip the paperwork.” Kegan narrowed his eyes, sending the other officer a dirty look.

“Oh, you’re doing all the paperwork. I’m even giving you mine, seeing as you just stripped at least five years off my lifespan.” Kegan glowered, and Reyes had the sheer audacity to laugh weakly. “Can you wiggle your toes?” He sighed in relief when he saw the slight movement, though still kept the officer as still as possible for the paramedics to confirm.

The sound of distant sirens grew closer, and Kegan immediately spun around from the noise when he heard the officer groan.

“What? What’s wrong? Where’s the pain?” Kegan asked, ready to dive in at a moment’s notice but Reyes was focused on something past him.

“I’m about the get the lecture of a lifetime. From all three of them.” The man muttered, and Kegan looked back to see the ambulance parked by the sidewalk, three figures hopping out. One of the female paramedics tossed something to the male, who caught it without even looking at her. They were making their way towards them, and Kegan frowned when the male paramedic suddenly froze, eyes widening at their figures on the ground. He could have sworn he didn’t blink, but one second the paramedic was by the ambulance, the next he was crouching down next to Officer Reyes, stethoscope ready and already checking ABCs.

“This isn’t your usual area.” Officer Reyes says in lieu of a greeting, and Kegan unconsciously stepped back to give them some space to work and to avoid the dark aura encircling the male paramedic who looked up, unimpressed.

“I could say the same for you.” There were some medical words exchanged then, and Kegan heard what he guessed to be the Captain spell out a series of tests they’ll do at the hospital. He couldn’t help but feel another wave of anxiety when the C collar got strapped on – that’s usually a bad thing, right? The male paramedic barely spared him a glance before shining a flashlight in Officer Reyes’ eyes.

“Name.”

“Really?”

“Answer the question.”

“Carlos Reyes.”

He stood to the side, watching as the Captain cautiously lifted Reyes’ uniform and frown at the bruising, prodding it skillfully and gauging the officer’s reaction. He could see the male paramedic flinch as if just the sight of the injury caused him insurmountable pain.

“D-does it, um, does it hurt badly?”

Four pairs of eyes turned to look at him, and Kegan really wished he had heeded his mother’s advice to just keep on sticking his foot in his mouth.

“No,” the male paramedic started sarcastically, a TK Strand that Kegan could make out now stitched on his uniform, “He’s just fine and dandy being run over by a four thousand pound moving brick. He can finally check it off his to-do list for the day.” TK scowled, his movements more aggressive than usual when swinging the stethoscope around his neck again, but Kegan could still see how the anger seemed to fade when he worked with the others to prod the officer for other injuries.

He heard a few snickers from the other two female paramedics that were quickly covered by badly hidden coughs, and really wished Mother Nature would offer him a hole to climb into.

Officer Reyes, who was still a little out of it but thankfully very much alive seemed to be on the verge of laughter himself. “TK, stop scaring him. I’m fine.”

Kegan winced, feeling the change in atmosphere before TK’s eyes even narrowed, and if he wasn’t quite frozen in place he would definitely have stumbled a few steps back from avoiding the icy chill that filled the air around them.

“You and I must have very different definitions of ‘fine.’” TK muttered. Kegan felt chills running down his spine at the deadly glint when those eyes passed over him for a millisecond.

It suddenly sent him back to when he was five years old, when he had brought a stray puppy home and learned how to fear a human being for the first time. His father had looked at the puppy like it was the worst thing created by mother nature, before taking it away and he never saw the little golden retriever again.

Now he knew why.

But he also attributed green eyes to his grandmother, who was an entire ball of warmth.

Who knew green eyes that had always felt so comforting whenever his grandmother smothered him with hugs and kisses when he was younger could feel like daggers that could skewer you alive on another person?

“I’m sorry we never got your coffee.” Kegan looked down at Officer Reyes, who was looking up at him apologetically, and Kegan didn’t know whether he should cry or punch something at how unreasonably nice he was being. They weren’t close, but Kegan respected him immensely, and he could tell from the way TK’s shoulders hadn’t relaxed from their tense position that he wasn’t out of the woods yet.

“I’ve already received the wake-up call of the century. Coffee’s on me next time.” Kegan says lightly, before his eyes widened in horror as TK turned his stormy gaze on him. “Not that I want you to get hit by another car! I’ll gladly take the coffee over any car. And I’ll stop talking. Like right now.”

Yeah, he really needed that bath with the toaster. Maybe he’ll even add in his mother’s hair straightener just to seal the deal.

“Why don’t you sit down?” The Captain, Vega, says kindly, eyes shining with exasperated amusement as she shoots TK a look, and Kegan looks at her, puzzled.

“Why?”

“We need to check you over, too.” The other female paramedic, Gillian, says. She’s looking at him kindly, but doesn’t leave TK’s side as they make sure Carlos is stable for transport.

“But I’m fine? He’s the one who lost consciousness for a few minutes.” Kegan frowns in confusion, and sees TK whirl his head back towards the officer, looking like he wanted to throttle the man.

“And you didn’t think that was vital information?”

“It wasn’t that long!”

“Any length of time being unwillingly unconscious is important, Carlos.”

There was a moment of unspoken words between them and an exchanged look with Captain Vega before Gillian started checking for head injuries. There weren’t any visual signs of trauma, but Kegan has seen enough medical dramas to always expect the impossible.

“And to add on to earlier, no one who gets manhandled by this guy ever ends up fine. The shock may be hiding injuries you can’t feel right now.” TK looked up at him, but not before giving Officer Reyes another glare when he makes a noise in protest.

“I’m not that bad!”

“Tell that to your kitchen counter. And the bedroom wall.” The smallest of smiles lights up TK’s face, and Kegan watches in awe as Officer Reyes grins unabashedly at that.

He didn’t even know the man had any other expressions other than polite smiles and stoic everythings.

“You were on scene for all of them, care to share the grievance?” The soft look they exchanged made something in Kegan’s brain click in place, and he felt himself smiling despite current events.

In the end, they had been lucky. Had Officer Reyes not pushed him away when he did, the accident would have ended up with a black bag and cops knocking on his mother’s doorstep, when the last thing he said to her wasn’t ‘I love you.’ He would be walking away with minor aches, and Officer Reyes-

Had closed his eyes.

He wasn’t the only one that noticed, judging by how TK’s face drained in colour, eyes wide as he tried to get Officer Reyes to open his eyes.

“Carlos? Hey, stay awake – Carlos?! Cap!!” TK immediately reached his fingers to check Carlos’ pulse, and Kegan watched with bated breath as medical jargon sprout out from all three of them, with Captain Vega swearing under her breath when Gillian mentioned something about chest movement.

“We need to get him to a hospital, now.” The other two paramedics immediately lifted Officer Reyes on the stretcher, running towards the ambulance and Kegan could only watch, horrified when TK yelled that they had lost a pulse.

He had been conscious earlier.

He had been talking.

And now he could be –

“Go.”

Kegan startled, turning his head to see Lawrence gently guiding him towards the ambulance.

“I’ll keep an eye on your police car. You’re in no state to drive, and I think you’ll feel better if you go with them.” Lawrence urged, and Kegan didn’t know what else to say but a quick ‘thank you,’ receiving a shoulder squeeze in response before jumping into the back of the ambulance, the paramedics not even batting an eye as they sped off.

They must have gotten Officer Reyes’ pulse back in the time between his hesitancy and the nudge from Lawrence, so Kegan tried his best to focus on the weak but steady rhythm of the heart monitor as TK and Captain Vega worked to make sure his heart kept on beating.

He’s never had a problem being a shadow on the sidelines, and ever since his father’s arrest he’s been walking on eggshells around everything and everyone. Which is why he sat, stock still, and didn’t say a word as Captain Vega quietly murmured how Carlos was stable for now, the words doing nothing to rid the fear still present in TK’s eyes.

He hadn’t taken his eyes off the officer laying on the stretcher before them, and Kegan wasn’t sure he had even blinked. Their hands were tightly linked together, and there was a wet shine in his eyes.

“Come back to me.” He heard him whisper, and his own heart bled with guilt and despair as TK bowed his head, seeing his frame shaking as he clung onto a hand that just wouldn’t squeeze back.  

He should have been the one on the stretcher.

Why didn’t they take him instead?

It wasn’t fair.

.

“I’m sorry.”

The hospital waiting area was mostly empty, and he hadn’t allowed himself a moment to breathe until he heard the doctors give TK and the rest of the 126 who had all arrived one by one to make one big family the all clear. That had been minutes? hours? ago, and Kegan still couldn’t get past the roaring in his ears, the tightness of his chest as they all waited for the officer to wake up.

He was staying overnight for observation, and he faintly remembered being checked over himself in the blurred haze of everything. He couldn’t for the life of him remember who did it, or what questions he was asked, just that he would be walking away with minor bruising and some superficial scratches.

Officer Reyes on the other hand…

He had heard through the grapevine that they had caught the guy, and it was a brief moment of satisfaction that didn’t do much other than give him the relief that he was behind bars instead of behind another wheel of a car.

He looked up for the first time since entering those hospital doors. TK was staring at him with an unreadable expression in his gaze before Kegan could make out the small upward twitch of his lips.

“You’ve done nothing to apologize for,” TK says quietly, wincing a little. “In fact, I’m the one that’s sorry for my attitude back at the scene. I was a little – I was worried.” TK lifted a hand to run through his hair, before giving him a more genuine smile.

Ah, he was starting to see why Officer Reyes always seemed to melt underneath that gaze. The paramedic’s eyes were a couple degrees warmer than they had been earlier, the irises reflecting pools of green in the bright ceiling lights.

“He’s a good cop, and an even better person. He did what he thought was right, and it wasn’t your fault. You were just doing your job. And you were the reason they caught the guy, they found him not long after trying to cross state lines.” Kegan swallowed down the lump in his throat at that, the subtle acknowledgement warming him up inside.

Moving half-way across the globe to escape the scars his father left on their family was one thing, enrolling into the police academy and painstakingly working his ass off to show that he belonged was another. Ever since the arrest, being the son of a notorious serial killer had become his identity. Suddenly, his childhood dreams of becoming an officer of the law meant nothing – all washed down the drain by his father’s blood-soaked hands.

He would never understand why he deserved to live when the people his father killed did not. Years of pondering potential what if’s and self-loathing slowly ate him up inside, and he knew his mother only wanted what was best for him. He didn’t enroll in the police academy to prove anyone a point, to show that their family still had some sort of light worth saving but because he wanted to help. Because he wanted to be better, and he wanted to work for it.

But that didn’t mean the world wasn’t cruel in other ways.

Being labeled as the ‘grim-reaper’ certainly was one, where people assumed that anyone who came into contact with him were automatically doomed to die. It didn’t help that his own father had used it to his advantage, and it was something he would probably never forgive himself for.

And today was just shot to hell with the almost-death of his superior driving him over the edge. He had almost been indirectly responsible for another death of a good man, so when the doctors had given them good news, Kegan almost sobbed in relief. He’s been on the receiving end of looks of anguish, of dismay, of anger and frustration.

Seeing someone look at him with hope and reassurance was new, and hearing words that weren’t laced with malice and false approval made the heavy load of the day lighten a little.

It hadn’t been a good day. And tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed for anyone.

But as Kegan accepted the gentle pat on the shoulder and a friendly smile, he knew that through the dark times, he will find the light.

He wasn’t there yet, and he didn’t know if he would find it at all – but he would try.

And that would have to be enough.

He calls out to TK again, and watches as the man pauses in his steps, turning to look at him curiously.

“So, how long have you two been married?” He asks, a playful grin stretching across his lips, laughing when he sees the paramedic’s cheeks go through the different shades of red in a fascinating colour show. His eyes narrow, but his lips are twitching in amusement, and he waves for Kegan to follow him to Carlos’ recovery room. He’s about to protest, not wanting to intrude, but TK just rolls his eyes and grabs his arm gently to tug him along.

“So, you’re the cheeky new rookie Carlos mentioned,” TK muses, and Kegan raises an eyebrow.

“Didn’t know I was such a hot topic of conversation,” Kegan responds, not liking how TK’s grin suddenly turns wicked.

“Oh, he told me all about that time you knocked an entire crate of fresh tomatoes onto a perp who tried to escape. The street vendor wasn’t very happy, now was she?” TK winks, and Kegan feels the tables turn, his cheeks lighting on fire at the memory.

No, she certainly was not happy. Getting chased by an elderly woman who spent hours arranging her food stall while holding a broom above her head through the entire marketplace was not something he wanted to re-live. Ever.

“And, to answer your question, we’re not married,” TK continues, his smile turning a touch soft, and Kegan makes a sound of disbelief.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

He doesn’t dodge the shove he receives at that, and as they close the rest of the distance to Carlos’ room, Kegan smiles.

He could get used to Austin.

[jobean12-blog]

Top Shelf: Chapter 7- Love Lines & Soul Finds

Pairing: Bucky x reader (Bookstore/bartender AU)

Word Count: 2,966

Summary: You and Bucky go on your first date, make some plans and share much more than just your time. 

Author’s Note: So, I’ve been thinking about this story a lot lately and I realize that it really is just a love story. There is nothing new or revolutionary about it, just two people falling in love in my favorite city. I know it’s slow moving but I’m so thankful for those of you that have been reading and sticking with me. I really appreciate it because believe me I have read and continue to read some really fucking incredible series out there that were and are so exciting and amazing in every way. People are so damn talented! Thank you again! Also, Gallow Green, Attaboy (the bar Bucky works at) and Harbs are all real places in NYC that I’ve been too and I can’t wait to go again ❤ Thank you all for reading, all my love❤❤❤

Warnings: fluff, super corny sweet Bucky, first date excitement, tiny angst (super tiny), Bucky to the rescue, implied sexy times, lots of kisses as usual :) 

Previous Chapters 

Chapter 1: Enchantment 

Chapter 2: Cookie Crumble

Chapter 3: Sweet Anticipation

Chapter 4: Read Between the Limes

Chapter 5: Secrets on the Shelf

Chapter 6: Love Between the Covers

The rest of your day goes by quickly. Nat comes over to help you pick out your date night outfit as you both gush over your evenings “Do you think it’s bad that I can’t wait to see him again and I just saw him a few hours ago?” you ask, chewing on your bottom lip as you stare at her. With a scoff she throws a new dress at you, “try this on and stop it. You’re obviously head over heels for him and from what you tell me and what I saw he feels the same. Enjoy yourself.”

You shimmy into the dress, pulling at the hem and waist before twirling to face Nat, “yes?” She claps her hands and gives you thumbs up, “perfect, you look amazing.” Once your hair and makeup are finished you text Bucky to let him know you’ll be leaving soon. Nat walks out with you and you each hail a cab. “Have fun with Sam tonight!” you chime, giving her a wink. She rolls her eyes but can’t hide her smile, “thanks, I know he’s going to be working at the bar but I’m just excited to hang out again.” Pulling her in for a hug you tell her, “I so get it.”

When you reach the bookshop, you hop out of the cab, thanking and tipping the driver and all but skipping to the door. The bell chimes when you walk in, your eyes searching the front of the store for Bucky. He’s no where to be seen so you head to the reading nook at the back, your eyes lighting up when you find a single rose laying on the cushion with a note attached. “I’m still wearing the smile you gave me.”

“Oh Bucky,” you say into the silence, bringing the flower up to your nose. You hear his footsteps approach and turn to see him walking down the aisle toward you. You launch yourself into his arms, rose in hand and kiss him. “Thank you, thank you, it’s so beautiful.” “Not as beautiful as you. You look incredible, he states, kissing you again, this time letting his hands wander over your waist and hips. Any other words you had planned to say are silenced by his mouth on yours, the kiss quickly heating up.

He pulls away to breathe, his fingers twirling into your hair. “What time are out reservations?” you ask, failing to hide the want in your voice. “In like 20 minutes,” he pouts, “and it’s so nice out I figured we could walk there since it’s close.” Brushing your lips to his you ask, “does that mean we need to leave now?” Bucky gives you a small nod and squeezes your hand. “Ok. I’ve really been looking forward to this, so we better leave now before we don’t,” you say with a wink.

“I have too, let’s go!” Bucky agrees with one last kiss. The two of you walk hand in hand down the street, the city alive with the excitement over the change in weather, summer on the way. “I love this city,” you whisper into the wind, smiling at Bucky. “Me too, y/n. Even more so now,” he adds, watching you dip your head with a blush. He stops you in the middle of the street, pulling you in a for a sweet kiss, “mmmm definitely like it more now.”

He starts walking again, bringing your hand up to his lips as you practically float next to him. “Here we are,” he says, motioning to a sweet little spot tucked away in Chelsea. “I’ve never been here before!” you say with excitement. “Just wait until you see the outdoor seating in the back.” Smiling like an idiot you greet the hostess and follow her to the back, your breath catching as you take in the intimate seating area surrounded beautiful greenery and soft lighting. “Here are your menus, your waiter will be with you right away, welcome to Gallow Green.”

“Oh, Bucky! It’s so perfect!” you quietly squeal, looking around. “I had a feeling you would love it here, I’m glad it was a surprise, I was worried you might have been before.” Shaking your head, no you reach out to grab his hand, “thank you. This is already the best first date I’ve ever had.” Bucky’s smile widens and his eyes crinkle and you fall a little harder, hoping you don’t have actual hearts in your eyes.

“I’m so glad, doll. I know we did things a little backwards, but I want you to know I intended to take you out properly and all.” Instead of blushing at his own implication he says it with confidence, his eyes darkening as you hum and brush your foot up his leg. “Oh, it was worth it,” you assure him. Letting out a low growl only you can hear, he replies, “so worth it.”

The waiter comes over and neither of you notice until he clears his throat and smiles, asking if you would like drinks and to hear the specials. You order some drinks and Bucky recommends some appetizers. The conversation flows as easily as ever, Bucky asking you questions about your childhood and telling you more about his and the adventures with his grandparents. You learn that he spent many of his younger years with them, the bond they have extremely special and strong.

“So, I’m named after him, my mother knew it would make him so happy. Everyone calls me Bucky instead of James so no one gets confused, but I think we could have handled it.” He laughs, clearly caught up in a memory. You don’t push, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze while you give him the moment. “Grandpa would have loved you, you know,” he says, voice strained with emotion. Before you can answer he continues, “and grandma won’t stop asking when you’re coming over for dinner.”

You get up, Bucky’s brows furrowing in confusion until you circle your arm around his neck and sit in his lap, kissing him firmly before whispering in his ear, “thank you.” He hums against your lips, securing you against his chest as you two continue to whisper to each other, drawing the eyes of the other patrons.

Noticing the waiter approaching with your tray of food you reluctantly get up and sit back in your seat, Bucky’s eyes twinkling with amusement as the waiter smiles at you both. “Enjoy your meal, if you need anything just let me know.” Thanking him you dig in, tasting everything and loving it! “The food is so good!” you say through a mouthful. Bucky gives you a wink, taking a forkful off his plate and holding it up to you, “here, try this.” He brings the fork to your mouth, gently feeding you the bite, his eyes bright as he watches you chew. “WOW,” is all you manage to say.

The rest of dinner is a whirlwind of delicious food, perfect conversation, and soft touches. When you leave the restaurant Bucky throws his arm around your shoulder and pulls you close to his side, “want to have some really amazing dessert before heading back? I know a great place nearby.” You smile up at him, crooking your finger so he leans down for a kiss. “I bet I know where you’re going to take me,” you say against his mouth.

“Try me,” he counters, nuzzling his nose to yours. “HARBS!” you shout, maybe a little too loudly but you don’t really care. “OK FINE, you’re right!” he says, with a playful roll of his eyes.  You come to a dead stop, standing still on the sidewalk, and looking at Bucky wide eyed. “Bucky, what am I going to get?!?! A slice of the Queen of cake or one of the Strawberry cake!?!?! I can’t eat two, they are huge!”

It takes Bucky a moment to realize you’ve stopped walking because you’re unsure of what slice of cake to get at Harbs. He laughs, jogging back to you and snaking his arm around your waist, “how about we get a slice of each and we can share them, this way you can have both!” Giggling into his neck you say, “oh yea, that makes sense.” He brushes his fingers along your jaw, gently drawing your eyes to his, “it does, doesn’t it.”

You smile up at him for the 100th time that evening and Bucky can feel those familiar words pile up, settling right on the tip of his tongue, both weightless and heavy. He recognizes the look in your eyes because it’s reflected in his own and before he can think on it any more he opens his mouth only to be interrupted by a loud, “hey asshole, watch where you’re goin’, can’t ya see I’m walking here.”

Bucky instinctively wraps his arms around you and blocks your body with his which makes you laugh into his shoulder. “I thought you grew up in this city, Bucky? Aren’t you used to this crap?” you ask him, eyes alight with laughter. His shoulders drop and he lets out a breath, “I did! I am, I was just…distracted,” he says, a light blush tinting his cheeks.

“He did kind of ruin our moment, huh?” Standing on your toes you leave a trail of kisses along his neck and jaw, effectively changing the mood. “Ready for some dessert?” you say before kissing his lips.  “Like hell I am, maybe we should get it to go?” Twirling and pulling him by the hand you look over your shoulder with a sly smile, “I thought you’d never ask.”

The next day…

Monday morning hits you like a ton of bricks, the lack of sleep and previous nights fun catching up to you. Bucky left early, allowing you time to get ready for work and time for him to get home before opening the store. Even with the heaviness of the day you feel like you’re floating on air, your thoughts never far from Bucky and the perfect weekend you had.

“Nat, I swear. It was the perfect date. I feel like this can’t be real.” You walk and talk, making your way toward the building. “He’s too good to be true!” Nat chuckles in your ear, “I know what you mean, but he’s very real.” With a dreamy sigh you nod in agreement even though she can’t see you. “I bet you look like one of those walking hearts for eyes emoji’s right now,” she laughs, never one to stop teasing you. “Whatever, Nat! You’re gonna be right where I am before you know it. I can tell you really like Sam.” She doesn’t deny it, but you can feel her smile through the phone. “Whatever you say, y/n. Have a good day.”

Ending your call, you head into work, seeing that Bucky had sent you a text while you were talking to Nat. ‘Miss you already, doll❤ .’ You crash your phone to your chest, stopping dead in your tracks and doing a small happy dance. “Happy Monday to you too,” your coworker laughs, “someone must have had a good weekend.” You smile brightly and say, “something like that,” before walking to your desk.

You don’t get to see Bucky the for the next couple of days, work, errands, and life in general keeping you busy. He texts you every morning when he first wakes up and you two are in touch throughout the day. By the time Thursday rolls around you’re sick of work and decide you’re going to cut out early and visit him at the bookshop.

When you walk in you notice he’s speaking to someone, but you can’t quite see who it is behind his large frame. Your footsteps alert them both and Bucky turns to you, his face lighting up as he jogs over and crushes you to his chest. “Hi,” he whispers into your hair. “I’m gonna kiss you now even though my grandma is watching, I’ve been waiting all week!” You don’t get a chance to argue, his lips crashing to yours in a light but sweet kiss.

He grudgingly pulls away and walks you over to his grandma, her happiness at seeing you nearly mirroring his. “So good to see you again, y/n,” she says as she gives you a hug. “It’s lovely to see you too Betty!” With a twinkle in her eye she looks you both over, “Bucky and I were just talking about you, weren’t we? When are you available to come over for dinner?” Leaning into Bucky, you say, “what about Sunday?” “That sounds perfect and would you bring some of those delicious cookies you made?” Bucky agrees, “oh yes! And you should probably make an extra batch just for me!” Poking his side, you happily say “yes,” giving Betty one more hug as she explains she must leave so she isn’t late for her mahjong game.

As soon as his grandma is out of sight Bucky pulls you into the small room behind the counter, backing you against the wall, “I really hope we don’t get any customers.” You dip your fingers into his jeans and pull his body flush to yours, kissing him soundly. Your make out session is interrupted by the chime of the bell over the door, the loud chatter of a group of people cutting through the moment. “Shit, shit, shit,” Bucky whines.

Plastering on his best sales smile he walks out and greets the customers, quickly pointing them in the right direction. “Let me know if you need anything else.” You sneak out from behind the counter and pretend as if you’re searching for a book. “Excuse me sir, could you help me find something.” Bucky’s eyes darken as he stalks toward you. “Did you just call me sir?” he all but growls into your ear. You give his hair a little tug, a cheeky grin on your face as you say, “maybe I did.”

Right before he gets the chance to steal a few more kisses the people emerge from the aisle, books in hand. “I guess I have to go check them out,” he sighs, giving you a quick peck before doing just that. He finishes up, glancing at his watch, “we close in a half hour then I have a shift at the bar.” You wrap your arms around his neck, “are you working this weekend too?” He runs his hands over your ass and gives it a light squeeze, “Friday and Saturday again.”

“Well, maybe I’ll just have to come hang out at the bar. You know keep you company while you work. I could bring Nat; she’ll want to see Sam I’m sure.” Bucky kisses you, “that sounds,” another kiss, “perfect,” more kisses. “Mmm great, I’ll see you tomorrow night then.” After a few more heated moments you part, Bucky walking you out and waiting while you grab a cab.

No sooner does your ass hit the seat of the car that your phone pings, ‘can’t wait until tomorrow night😍.’ Your bubbly laugh is uncontrollable as you text him back, ‘me either,’ quickly opening Nat’s message and asking her if she wants to go to the bar with you.

Friday night…

“What do you think Nat?” you ask, as usual looking to her for advice on your outfit. “I love it and the color is amazing on you.” Touching up your lip gloss you smile at her in the mirror’s reflection, grabbing your bag with a “let’s go!”

The bar is packed and you text Bucky to let him know you’re there. In less than a minute, Sam is outside, greeting Nat with a sweet kiss and giving you a hug, “come on ladies, right this way.” Nat looks back at you and mouths, “nice,” as you move past the line.

As soon as you walk in you search for Bucky. You don’t see him behind the bar but continue following Sam to the other end, two open bar stools waiting for you. “Bucky’s grabbing something from the back but I can get you started,” Sam says smoothly. Nat tells him to make whatever he thinks you’ll like and Sam grins, kissing her cheek before moving behind the bar.

While you wait for your drinks and Bucky you and Nat gush over how cute Sam is. “Omg, I’m so excited. He seems so nice. And he has a great ass,” you laugh watching as Nat enthusiastically agrees. Just as you’re about to say something about Bucky a warm arm slides around your shoulders. The hairs on your arm stand up but not for a good reason as you turn your head and come face to face with a man you have never seen before.

“Can I help you,” you ask, tone unfriendly as you move out from under his arm. “Can I buy you a drink beautiful,” he asks, stepping into your personal space. “NO, thank you,” you say firmly, once again moving away from him. “Aw come on baby, you can’t tell me you didn’t come here looking for a good time tonight.” Your nose wrinkles in disgust, your mouth opening to tell him off.

“Hey buddy, didn’t you hear her when she said no thank you.” Now that’s a voice you recognize, spinning to see Bucky standing right behind you, his arms folded over his chest and his jaw clenched. “Who asked you, asshole,” the guy shoots back, clearly not taking a hint. “My boyfriend did, actually,” you say, wrapping your arms around Bucky’s middle and glaring at the guy. The guy scoffs, rolling his eyes and walking off while mumbling under his breath. You look up at Bucky, his eyes soft as he asks, “did you just call me your boyfriend?”

@aesthetical-bucky @buckys-broody-muffin @bugsbucky @book-dragon-13 @devynsdiary @eurynome827 @hiddles-rose @hailmary-yramliah @ikaris-whore @itsunclebucky @jhangelface0523 @jewelofwinter @jewels2876 @loricameback @littledarlinhavefaithinme @littleredstarfish @mushyjellybeans @marvelgirl7 @metal-armed-cuddly-dork @marvelandotherfandomimagines @nano--raptor @randomfandompenguin @nerdypinupcrystal @scarletsoldierrr @sallycanwait68 @softpeachbarnes @the-wayward-robot @when-the-hell-is-bucky @flyawaybaybay @throwmyheartawayagain​ @amandatar-06​ @nd1998sc​ @captainchrisstan​ @vherriepie​ @godofplumsandthunder​ @fire-flv​ @jamesbarnesappreciationclub​ @irishflutiegirl​ @rinthehufflepuff​ @moonybarnes​ @nordlysinthewoods​ @hawksmagnolia​

[alwaysmychoices]

Jealousy & Pasta

Synopsis: After a long day at work, Charlie and Ethan are ready to go home, make dinner, and finally have a date night, if Charlie’s jealousy of the new intern won’t get in their way.

Chapter 14 of the “with and without” series

Previous Series: “a weekend with dr. ramsey”

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x MC (Charlotte “Charlie” Greene)

Words: 4.7k

Rating: T (suggestive language at the end)

Charlie was staring.

She couldn’t stop, no matter how hard she tried.

She came to the nurse’s station to find a quiet place where she could finish her paperwork for the night, but the paperwork quickly fell to the wayside.

She was watching Ethan – or rather, she was watching Ethan interact with her.

Ethan was working with Ava Silva, the new star intern. About half an hour ago, Ava found Ethan in his office, waiting for Charlie to finish for the night so that they could go back to his apartment and make dinner. When she presented Ethan with her patient, he was intrigued enough to join her on the case, and Ava did something to impress him. He didn’t watch Ava like he watched the other interns, like he was studying every moment for a sign of a mistake. He looked… pleased. Maybe even a little proud.

Ethan Ramsey was unusually agreeable, and that intern was standing unusually close to him.

Until tonight, Charlie flattered herself as being the only intern Ethan Ramsey regarded like that, but now that specialness felt mundane. Had his approval really been so miraculous, or was Charlie just hoping it was?

Charlie felt ridiculous as she watched the two of them. She knew it meant nothing. She knew that, once he finished in that patient’s room, he would take Charlie home. Yet, something eerily resembling doubt left her feeling unnerved and – dare she say – jealous.

So, she kept staring.

“You and Ramsey, huh?” Esme’s voice startled Charlie. With an expression that could only be described as pure horror, Charlie looked to her intern, hoping for a clue that she’d misheard Esme and hadn’t been caught.

Esme’s smirk dashed those hopes immediately.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Charlie’s voice wavered, making her lie even less believable. She gripped her pen tighter and cast a glance down to her unfinished paperwork as if trying to belatedly establish an alibi.

For all her attempts to hide, she was only making it more obvious.

Esme cocked her eyebrow, looking surprised by Charlie’s audacious lie.

“So, you just stare at everyone then?” Esme challenged, casting a meaningful look in Ethan’s direction. Charlie didn’t bother lying this time, which relieved Esme. For the last ten minutes, Esme passively watched Charlie, waiting for her concentration to break. When it didn’t, Esme cemented her long-held suspicions about the two colleagues.

“I’ve just never seen Dr. Ramsey get along that well with anyone, especially an intern,” Charlie shrugged, forcing herself to look at Esme and not Ethan, “I was just curious.”

“He gets along that well with you,” Esme countered, turning her gaze back to her paperwork as she scribbled a signature. She didn’t intend to let Charlie explain it away, and Charlie grimaced.

“It just seems like that now,” Charlie shrugged, “He hated me when I first started here.”

“I highly doubt Dr. Ramsey has ever hated you,” Esme mumbled, checking a box and signing a corresponding signature.

“He did,” Charlie asserted less confidently. Had he ever hated her? Certainly, he had insulted her, and more than once, his criticism had driven her to drink and complain after work. But had he ever hated her? Or were his expectations just high?

Or… had he always liked her? Had he just been an asshole to keep his distance?

Charlie felt less sure than ever, but she tried to keep her uncertainty off her face.

Esme paused for a moment, looking between Charlie and Ethan and Ava. She mulled it over and finally decided to ease Charlie by saying, “Well, even if he hated you then, you shouldn’t worry now. He doesn’t look at anyone else like he looks at you.”

Charlie blushed, which was all the confirmation Esme needed, but she allowed Charlie to deny it anyway. Truthfully, Charlie didn’t want to deny it anymore. She wanted to ask Esme a thousand questions. How long had she known? Were they obvious? Did he really seem to like her that much?

She longed for Esme to resolve all the timid doubts that came with a new relationship, especially because she couldn’t ask her friends to do so.

Their secret relationship was just two weeks old, and though Charlie felt secure in Ethan’s affection and her own decision to pursue a relationship, she couldn’t deny the series of small insecurities that sprouted under the secrecy. Without any outside opinions, she was left to interpret everything herself, and her own tendency to doubt had no one else to counter it.

“I think you’re just reading into it too much,” Charlie decided innocently, purposefully keeping her eyes off Ethan as she looked down to her paperwork.

“Maybe,” Esme shrugged, “For all I know, you two aren’t together.”

Charlie let out an inaudible sigh of relief.

“But,” Esme continued, knocking Charlie’s victory, “something is there. When I got here, you two couldn’t be in the same room. Now, I rarely see you apart. So, whatever it is, you two are certainly back on now, whatever that means for you.”

Charlie's expression went slack. She had nothing to counter that with, so instead of stumbling through an explanation, she just stared with dismay.

Just then, Ethan and Ava concluded their examination of the patient, and together, they exited the room. The spoke briefly to confirm the diagnosis and next steps. The entire time, Ava stood just an inch too close. Though he may not have looked at her with anything other than professional approval, there was undoubtedly a glimmer in her eye. Oblivious, Ethan affirmed that he would check on the patient in the morning, and when he left, Ava’s eyes followed him.

Charlie saw the whole thing out of the corner of her eye, and her stomach lurched.

Ethan saw Charlie immediately, and in the split second before he noted Esme beside her, his face broke out in a warm, wonderful smile. It disappeared when he realized they weren’t alone. Startled, he tried to twist his face into something normal, and instinctively, he cleared his throat and tightened his jaw.

He looked imposing. Maybe even intimidating.

But still happy.

To Charlie’s chagrin, Esme was always observant, and now, she had no doubt. She knew what they were doing, even if she lacked the details. Fortunately for both of them, she had no interest in stirring up hospital gossip. She liked Charlie, and that was enough for Esme to feel sworn to protect her. Besides, Esme felt like she owed Charlie for defending her encounter with Dr. Thorne.

“Good luck,” Esme whispered meaningfully to Charlie, and before Charlie could stammer out a final denial, Esme collected her paperwork and left the nurses station.

Charlie had only a few seconds before Ethan replaced Esme by her side. It wasn’t enough time to wrap her head around the conversation, nor her jealousy. She hardly knew what to say to him and was relieved when he spoke first.

“Are you almost done for the night?” Ethan nodded towards the paperwork in front of Charlie. He could see several blank spaces, but he hoped it was near completion. He had looked forward to taking her home all day.

“Nearly, maybe fifteen minutes left,” Charlie confessed sheepishly. She should have been done by now, but her envious stares and awkward conversations cost her time. She was cutting into their date night, a rarity given their schedule and secrecy.

She wished they could have just left anyway. She was happy to drop everything just to shed her jealousy and insecurities. She was eager to adore him without fearing unknown eyes and to get back to the basics of this relationship – the parts where they were happy, not anxious.

Ethan, casting a casual glance in both directions, made sure that no one was watching before he leaned closer, squeezing her hand and smiling softly, “Meet you in the garage in 20 minutes then?”

Charlie instinctively melted into the intimate warmth of the moment, and just for now, she forgot about Ava and Esme and secrets. Squeezing his hand back, she whispered, “You’re willing to be seen with me in the garage? How scandalous.”

“I think we’ll survive it,” Ethan shook his head softly, amused by her dramatization, “Besides, I’ve missed you today.”

“It’s your fault for not giving me any cases.”

Other than the brief diagnostics meeting to discuss the senator, they hadn’t interacted, save for fleeting glances and small talk in an elevator.

“I apologize for not overworking you, Charlotte,” Ethan tried to sound stern, but it came it just as love-drunk as everything else.

Giving up, Ethan squeezed Charlie’s hand one more time and commanded, “Now, finish your work so we can go home.”

“Fine,” Charlie teasingly grumbled, watching as Ethan gave her a warning glance and retreated to his office.

With the offer of homemade pasta and a night with Ethan Ramsey, Charlie worked much faster. Charlie powered through the material as fast as she could while staying thorough, and soon enough, the paperwork was completed and submitted. Eager to get to the garage, Charlie took off for the locker room to collect her stuff.

The room was empty except for the back corner, where a handful of interns crowded around a locker. They were talking loud enough that, if Charlie had been interested, she could have heard it all. But because she was far more concerned with quickly changing and meeting Ethan, she ignored them and focused her energy on shimmying into her jeans.

That was until one of them said Ethan’s name.

“I can’t believe you just spent thirty minutes with Ethan Ramsey,” one of them exclaimed, sounding overjoyed for her friend.

“And he said she did a ‘good job.’ I didn’t even know he knew how to compliment people,” another chimed in.

Charlie’s skin prickled with horror. She wanted to stop listening, button her shirt, and have a lovely night with Ethan. But she felt frozen, unable to escape the conversation.

“Stop, you guys! It wasn’t that big of a deal!”

This time, Charlie recognized the voice. It was Ava.

Fuck.

With her back the group, Charlie continued to eavesdrop.

“Please, if Bryce Lahela ever told me I did a good job, I would offer to marry him on the spot,” the first girl asserted confidently.

If they hadn’t been talking about Ethan, Charlie would have laughed and told Bryce the next day, but they were talking about Ethan. So, Charlie hardly registered it.

“Guys, shut up,” Ava hissed at her friends, suddenly swatting at her friends to stop talking. Charlie had a hunch for why Ava shut down the conversation, and to test her theory, she cast a casual glance in their direction.

All three women were staring at her, with Ava in the middle looking particularly mortified.

Equally embarrassed, Charlie looked back to her locker. She was now determined to leave as quickly as possible and put the entire encounter behind her. Maybe she would joke about it with Ethan at dinner. Or maybe she would quietly mull on it for days. Either way, she needed to leave.

Charlie finished buttoning her shirt, and after shoving her belongings in her canvas tote, she was ready to get the hell out of there.

“You’re Charlie Greene, right?” Ava asked just before Charlie could make it to the door, forcing her to stop in her tracks.

Great.

Now, she had to talk to her.

“Yeah, I am,” Charlie affirmed, not offering any more information. She didn’t want to make this conversation longer than necessary.

This was the woman who had just flirted with her boyfriend and bragged about it with her friends. Was she wrong for instinctively hating her?

“So, you work with Dr. Ramsey, then?” Ava inquired. On either side, her friends squirmed and evaded eye contact. Perhaps they expected a lecture about professionalism. Perhaps she should have given them one.

But when you’re secretly dating your boss, can you really yell at someone else about staying professional?

“I’m on the diagnostics team, yes,” Charlie corrected. She didn’t enjoy framing her accomplishments through a man, even if it was her favorite man. She earned her spot on that team, and even if she frequently felt out of her league in their meetings, she deserved recognition for standing on her own.

“Right,” Ava swallowed, “I’m actually a big fan.”

Oh.

Charlie squirmed, and something strange stirred in her belly. The instant hatred felt weak and perhaps even misplaced. Was it Ava’s fault for being attracted to Ethan? Almost everyone was. Even patients tried to sneak their number in his pocket when he wasn’t looking.

Now, Charlie looked directly at her, and she was struck by their similarities. Physically, they were different of course. Ava was shorter, yet leaner and more muscular than Charlie. Her hair was much darker, as were her brown eyes. Her skin was nice and tan, a stark contrast to Charlie’s perpetually pale body that burned if untreated with sunscreen. Yet, there was something similar in their posture and expression. They were both dedicated and hungry. They were both, at some time, the star intern, and they both earned Ethan’s approval.

And that was what flared Charlie’s jealousy.

They were so similar that, no matter how much Charlie reminded herself of Ethan’s affection, she worried that she wasn’t really special.

And if she wasn’t special, would Ethan still be so enthralled?

“I’m sorry about, um, before. We were just joking around,” Ava explained, her voice shaking from fear. She dreaded the idea of her words making their way back to Ethan. “You know how it is.”

Charlie did understand how it was.

And thus, Charlie decided she didn’t hate Ava.

She was just another girl to whisper about her crush in a locker room. Charlie wasn’t angry at her. She was angry that she couldn’t publicly claim Ethan as her own.

“It’s okay. It happens,” Charlie shrugged and watched as Ava let out a sigh of relief.

Tentatively, one of Ava’s friends asked, “So you know Dr. Ramsey pretty well then?”

“I do,” Charlie confirmed.

The girl seemed to deliberately consider her next question, wondering how best to take advantage of this opportunity. Charlie decided to indulge her but only her. She had pasta and Ethan to get to.

“So, is he… dating anyone?”

Charlie was shocked by the question, and she realized that the Ethan these women knew was a very different man than the one Charlie knew. Their Ethan was fiction, an assortment of assumptions and experiences morphed into one gorgeous but grumpy figure. He was easy to fall in love with, but it was even easier to fall out of love when he failed to live up to expectations.

But Charlie’s Ethan was real. He was handsome and guarded, and he struggled to express his feelings, even when they threatened to overflow. For him, Charlie stumbled in and out of entanglements, recklessly tearing apart her life in the name of forgetting him. Together, they had smiled and cried and laughed and screamed. They ran away so many times, to so many places. Yet, just for the chance to say she adored him, she ran through the rain and stood on his doorstep, braced for rejection.

After a beat, Charlie decided to answer honestly, “He doesn’t talk about his personal life, but I’m pretty sure he’s dating someone.”

The three women blinked in surprise.

Charlie had been risky enough with that answer that she didn’t dare stay for follow-up questions. Bidding them all goodnight, she locked her stuff up and made a beeline for the garage.

The entire walk, she tried to put her thoughts together, but so much had happened that they were all jumbled.

She was jealous, insecure, and disappointed, but she also felt remarkably safe and known – and happy.

All the more so when she saw Ethan in his car.

He was waiting for her, his Charlie.

“That was longer than 15 minutes,” Ethan greeted her as she climbed into his passenger seat. Despite his complaint, he was smiling wide enough for her to know that her presence was appreciated.

“Interns stopped me in the locker room,” Charlie explained as she buckled her seat belt. Ethan pulled the car in reverse, and with his arm behind her headrest, she caught her first, unreserved glimpse of Ethan that day. It was enough to remind her why he was worth running through the rain.

“It’s starting. One day, you will dislike them just as much as I do,” Ethan gloated. Once out of the parking space, he easily navigated the near-empty parking garage. Feeling safe in the solitude, he found Charlie’s hand in the passenger seat and tangled his fingers in hers.

He was surprised by how much he enjoyed holding her hand. He had never been particularly fond of it in past relationships, nor was he partial to most physical displays of affection. But there was something different about holding Charlie’s hand. He felt a constant craving to be near her, one he couldn’t always satisfy. Holding her hand felt reassuring that she was still there and still willing to take on the inconveniences and burdens of dating him.

Part of Ethan kept waiting for Charlie to come to her senses and run away. When he was touching her, he could silence those thoughts.

“I don’t think the medical community could handle two of you, Ethan,” Charlie squeezed his hand softly as they exited the garage.

“I’m not sure the medical community can handle one of me, to be frank,” Ethan thought aloud, and he noted Charlie’s grin out of the corner of his eye.

The drive was largely uneventful after that. Occasionally, he had to return his hands to the wheel to manage Boston traffic, but once the streets settled down, he found himself touching her again. They were comfortable in the car’s silence, and they were equally intrigued by the occasional quip or comment on the road.

It was comfortable.

It was… natural. Like their steps were in sync as they walked Ethan’s hallway. Like Ethan knew when to press the elevator button and Charlie knew exactly where to be. Like Charlie knew to lean against his shoulder and he knew to kiss the top of her head.

It was right.

As soon as Ethan opened his front door, Jenner joined the happy pair. He leaped from his comfortable bed in the living room and sprinted towards them. Jenner made a general acknowledgment of Ethan, but he lost all interest in his master when he noticed Charlie. The dog’s whole body wiggled as he jumped into Charlie’s open arms. He showered her face in adoring kisses, and likewise, she rewarded him with head scratches and a stream of compliments.

Ethan watched from the doorway with a mix of adoration, amusement, and frustration.

It was arguably the cutest thing he had ever seen, but after a long day away from Charlie, he now had another competitor for her attention.

“He likes you more than me,” Ethan commented, stepping into his apartment and dropping his keys in on the nearby table. He didn’t interrupt Jenner and Charlie, and when they were ready, they joined him in the apartment, Charlie walking with Jenner following on her heels.

Charlie found Ethan in the kitchen, rolling up his sleeves as he assembled the necessary ingredients on his kitchen island. He had been saving this recipe for a night that Charlie could help him make it, and he beckoned her to his side.

Charlie obliged, stopping only to wash her hands. But when she stood that close to him, she could think of a million things she’d rather do than make pasta.

“What do you need from me?”

“If you can mince the garlic, I’ll start the pasta,” Ethan decided, placing his hand on her side to pull her closer to him, and he kissed her temple, “Then, you can make the sauce, and I’ll make the seafood.”

“Seafood?” Charlie clarified, peaking through the ingredients to find clams, shrimp, and scallops. She stared at the pile of food with unfamiliarity. She never did this much for a casual, weeknight dinner. Truthfully, she was a bit intimidated that Ethan did.

“What?” Ethan asked, noting her stare, “Charlotte, are you allergic and neglected to tell me?”

“No, no,” Charlie clarified quickly, “I’m just…” she motioned vaguely to the kitchen island, “I’m just amazed you put this much effort into a weeknight.”

Ethan eyed her suspiciously and, after a beat, he said, “I have a feeling that, if I press you on that, I will be very disappointed in your habits.”

“Probably,” Charlie conceded, smiling softly as she watched him shake his head in preemptive disappointment. He squeezed her side and then pointed to the garlic.

“Mince,” Ethan commanded, trying to get himself back on track. Charlie made a show of rolling her eyes, but she happily crushed, sliced, and chopped garlic until she had a suitable product to give to Ethan.

Next, he tasked her with blending the tomatoes and let her freely spice the mixture, taking the risk she would lean into her affinity for heat. He sautéed the garlic in olive oil and added the seafood. When she delivered her sauce to add to the pan, she hummed, and Ethan smirked as the tune got stuck in his head. He watched the pasta and the sauce, but he also watched her dice peppers and gently sway to the song she sang.

When she turned around to add the peppers to the mixture, she was startled to find that he was watching her.

“Are you staring at me, Dr. Ramsey?” she asked, standing right beside him as she dropped the peppers into the pan.

“Yes.”

Charlie beamed as he leaned down to kiss her softly, his hand resting comfortably on her hip. With his head ducked, he felt like the perfect height for her to wrap her arms around his neck. Of course, there wasn’t much about him that didn’t feel perfect right now.

Ethan only pulled away when dinner demanded their attention. Nearing the end of the recipe, Charlie wasn’t much needed in the kitchen. So, she got out plates, and under Ethan’s instruction, she poured two glasses of wine. She poured more in her glass, just so she could sit at the island and drink wine as she watched him assemble the final stage of the recipe.

He plated the pasta and, wine in hand, he led her to the balcony so they could enjoy one of the last warm nights of the season.

And they did enjoy it.

Naturally, the pasta was delicious. Ethan had never cooked anything bad, as far as Charlie was concerned, and he was confident that her assistance made it that much better. Of course, he may have just been distracted by the view. While Charlie looked out over the Boston cityscape, he was more than satisfied to admire her alone. They talked about work for a while, but quickly, the conversation diverged to something more intimate and playful. Despite having met a year before, they were still getting to know each other, and effortlessly, they dipped into past relationships and all of the humorous stories associated with them.

Charlie's list of previous partners was short, with only a few meaningful names. She had been too focused on her career to develop a serious relationship, save for one or two, but she had plenty of funny anecdotes. Ethan’s list was longer but with far fewer meaningful names. He didn’t broach the most meaningful ones because their stories were too sad and too much time had passed for the discussion to feel necessary. He did, however, tell a very embarrassing story from his middle school dance that made Charlie lose her breath laughing.

Maybe it was the honesty of the moment, or maybe Charlie was just inspired to hear how jealous little Ethan had been of that popular boy and his 7th grade date. Whatever it was, Charlie said something she didn’t intend to say.

“You know, today, I overheard someone talking about their crush on you,” Charlie announced. She said it so casually that Ethan missed the underlying jealousy and self-doubt, so he chuckled.

“When?”

“At work,” Charlie didn’t betray Ava by saying it was her. Even if Ava wanted her boyfriend, Charlie didn’t feel justified in exposing her to her boss.

Ethan laughed and shrugged it off, taking a sip of wine like the whole thing was just another funny story.

It could have been. She could have left it there.

But squirming in her patio chair, she added, “I… I might have been a little jealous.”

Ethan’s face fell just a bit, like he was unexpectedly sobering up and becoming present in the moment. And, as he studied Charlie, he was suddenly aware of how meaningful this might be.

“You were?” He was shocked. Had she not seemed so serious, he surely would have thought this a joke. He had been jealous, of course, but that was before. Now, could she doubt him?

“I mean, she was very pretty,” Charlie was eager to justify her jealousy with all but the truth.

Ethan’s expression didn’t soften. If anything, it was increasingly somber and concerned. The sight made Charlie squirm even more. She’d said something real, and she couldn’t hide from it now.

“Do you doubt me, Charlie?”

Hurt.

Ethan’s hurt.

She didn’t mean for that to happen.

“No,” Charlie answered quickly – maybe too quickly because, when faced with saying anything else, nothing came to mind.

Ethan waited, but he didn’t feel less injured.

He thought, once they risked everything and promised to make this work, that everything could stay perfect. Yet Charlie was jealous. And he didn’t really understand why. He couldn’t imagine being anywhere else but here, with her.

“I’m a little...” Charlie stumbled to untangle days’ worth of messy, uncomfortable thoughts, so she stammered, “I love this. I really do. I am so, so happy that we’re here, but… I’m still a little insecure in all of it. I know we’re together, I do. But nobody else does. Secrecy is tricky, and it’s just…”

Charlie felt like there was an explanation out there, a perfect combination of words that would make sense of everything, but if they existed, she couldn’t find them.

“I’m so happy, and I think I’m afraid of messing it up somehow,” Charlie settled on this answer. It didn’t encompass everything, and something was surely missing. But it had to be enough for now, “And I wish I could just say you’re mine.”

Ethan sat in the wake of her speech, its weight sitting on him thoughtfully.

He wanted to erase all of it. He wanted to free her from insecurities and doubts. He wanted to give them both the happy ending they deserved after their bitter ups and downs.

But there was a bitter truth to swallow. Happy endings were just the beginning of something that could easily turn messy and painful, and they were responsible for maintaining happiness, even if it meant uncomfortable conversations.

“Charlie, I’m yours, secret or not,” Ethan, though shocked that he had so say it at all, meant it, and Charlie knew it. He stood, crossing the small distance be next to her. In the dim light, he found her hand and squeezed it, reassuring them both.

“Even when I’m not special?” Charlie laughed at the end of the question, framing it like a joke, but the laugh was hollow. And it was never a joke.

“You’re always special, Charlie,” Ethan kissed between Charlie’s eyebrows, where worry creased her skin.

“You’re not just infatuated with the star intern?”

“There have been many star interns,” Ethan consoled her, “I’ve only run away to the Amazon for one.”

Charlie chuckled, the light coming back into her face as she teased (for real, this time), “I thought you were just dramatic.”

Ethan laughed – for real, as well.

And they were okay. They were.

Ethan picked up the bottle of wine, which they’d nearly drained, “What do you say to another bottle?”

“It depends. What’s your policy on wine in bed?”

Ethan had a mischievous smile as he disappeared into the apartment to retrieve more wine, which they would hopefully share from the comforts of his king-size bed soon. Sitting on the balcony, content and waiting for him, Charlie struck with the realization that this was the happiest she’d ever been in a relationship.

As he walked back to her, she found a star, and focusing all her hope, she asked it to let them stay like this forever.  

I’m kinda iffy on if I like this chapter, but here it is anyway. 

Also, if you’re interested in making the recipe mentioned, here it is: https://rasamalaysia.com/seafood-pasta/ 

TAG LIST:

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[bump1nthen1ght]

Between the Neon (Male!Android x AMAB!Reader)

Pairing: AMAB!Reader x Male!Robot

Genre: Sci-fi, CyberPunk, Prostitute!Reader, Fluffy Smut

Word Count: 1714 words

Warnings: Explicit Content Ahead (18+ ONLY)

Summary: After leaving his last appointment completely satisfied, Axel wasted no time in coming back to request more of your services.

Request: Anything with Axel please! (From kinktober)

A/N: Soooo I totally forgot that the original drabble with Axel (Which you can find here) was gender neutral, and didn’t realize until I had fully written out the fic 🤦‍♀️. Soo I decided to write two versions, one with an AFAB!Reader and one with an AMAB!Reader, with the reader still using they/them pronouns. Hope y’all enjoy!

Link to AFAB!Reader is Here!

After many years of working, you’ve grown a good sense for customers; Who will tip well, who’s going to cause problems, and the special few who will become your favorites.

You knew immediately that Axel was going to go in the latter category. But what you hadn’t expected was for him to jump to your #1 patron within a month of your first rendezvous. Man was eager and had some money to spend, that was for sure.

“Hmm, good bot.” Your thumb rubs across his smooth skull-plating, moaning as his synthetic tongue slides around your shaft. His vents exhale hot steam, like a heating pad between your legs. He had gotten that body mod after three sessions together, something to prevent him  from overheating amidst the countless orgasms. The nodes of textured tongue send shivers down your spine, making you sink into your plush work bed. “Fuck, your getting good at this, Axel.”

Axel had learned on his second visit that your cock was his favorite flavor, always begging for a taste at the beginning of every session. He had been slightly clumsy at first, but once he learned your biology, he took it up like a dedicated scholar. You had even caught him looking at extensive diagrams of the human genitalia after one session, making notes on what made you specifically shiver and cum.

“I’m close, baby.” Axel moans into your crotch, face lit in bright blue blush. Machinery whirrs as your thighs press into the sides of his neck, his own personal heaven. Your toes curl behind his neck, orgasm striking quick and hard “Fuck~” You pant, hips jerking and humping into Axel’s jaw, spit and cum running down his chin. He swallows it all up eagerly,always desperate for another taste.

You have to pull him off your cock, slightly overstimulated and eager for the next part of your session. Axel has a stupid wide grin on his face, his digital pupils turned into glitchy hearts.

What a cutie.

You kiss Axel’s cheek as he crawls up your body, letting him snuggle into your neck and hug you with sticky hands.

“I wanna try something new today.” You whisper in his audial port. Axel whimpers.

“Yes p-please.” He lets you pull away from the embrace, obediently following orders to sit on the edge of the bed. Axel is always quick to try new things, desperately excited to explore your body and all its new sensations.

You remember the first time you rode him, how his glitchy voice echoed across your apartment. 

“O-o-oh stars!”

His hands had struggled choosing between gripping your hips and playing with your nipples, watching all of you bounce in his dick. That dilemma was solved when you flipped into reverse cowboy and he was able to palm your jiggling ass cheeks.

“You’re incredible! Incredible!” He had yelped as he overloaded inside you, licking your thighs clean of cum right after. He then spent the next 20 minutes caressing your butt, watching the way it wiggled with every hip movement.

That's what inspired you tonight.

You flip around to your stomach, holding your weight on your elbows and shimmying your hips. Your fingers come down to your ass cheeks and spread them wide open. 

“Come here, baby.”

Axel scrambles up the bed, aching cock in his grip, lemon-lime coolant dripping down the shaft. He’s quick to line up with your hole, but doesn’t sink in just yet. He never does without permission.

Good boy.

“Now put your hands on my hips.” Your voice guides him along, shaky digits glancing across your pelvis. His leaking tip pressed against your entrance, so close to just slipping inside you. Another burst of air comes from his vents.

“Now's the fun part.” Settling into your knees, you throw your ass back onto Axel, cock sliding in like a hot knife through butter. His digits leave indents on your love handles, his voice glitching.

“Fu-uck!” He pants, his eyes going cross from the sudden grip on his dick. Your velvety hole holds him tight, his nodes rubbing as his hips jump a little. You smirk, swiveling your hips.

“You gotta good grip back there?” Your voice purrs, and you take Axel’s lusty moans as a definite ‘yes’. 

Axel’s voice melts into whines as you slide him out till the tip, only to shriek and glitch when you throw your ass back on to him. You give him little time to recover, using his hands for stability to throw it back and over and over onto his cock. Streams of coolant run down his cock and down your balls, sloshing together with skin and wiring.

“Oh, stars and galaxies~” Axel moans, leaning his torso forward to help his balance. “You feel so go-od.” Axel’s tongue lolls out in a pant, more steam pumping from his vents. “That ass.” His voice teeters off, hands wandering down to your jiggling backside.

“You wanna slap it, Axel?” You swivel your hips again, core clenching as you put an extra shimmy in your hips.

“Y-yes. Will that h-hurt you-ungh!” 

Your walls clench onto Axel’s cock, bottom lip bitten between your teeth at the idea.

“No, baby. I want it.”

A mixture between a delighted giggle and a ravenous moan squeal from Axel’s audial ports. One hand moves from your hips to your ass, never leaving the skin. He gives a tentative squeeze, mindful of his robotic strength, before giving you a soft tap. It’s sweet, but you crave more. 

“You can do it harder, Axel. In fact….”

You pause your bouncing, craving to see Axel’s expression. His cheeks grow bright with his coolant, his pupils flickering back and forth between the arch of your back and your face.

“Why’d you stop?”

“Patience, sweet thing.” You grip onto the bedspread below, adjusting your knees upward into proper doggy style. “Here, grab onto my hips again.” Axel follows your instructions dutifully, finding his palace on your pelvis. His plating shudders as you rock forward, pulling his cock out to the tip. Axel rushes to follow, hands still in place, but resists. “Okay, now pull me back. Like I was doing before.”

There’s an audible click as Axel turns his head, slightly confused. But as always he’s an obedient boy, and does as he’s told.

He goes slow, still timid and unsure. But a crackling groan from his chest tells you he’s catching on quickly as he pulls you back onto his cock.

“Ok, now pull out a bit.”

Big globs of coolant drop down your cock and onto Axel’s shaft as he does, another shudder. His digits shake against your skin.

“Now, pull me back and push your hips up.”

Axel increases his pace a bit, impatience finally getting to him, chasing your warmth. A texture head bumps against your prostate, and you make sure to emphasize your moan.

“Again.” 

Axel, ever the fast learner, humps into you again, nodes scraping along your inner walls with a little more force. You bite your lip.

“Again, faster.”

Your right hand spreads forward, knuckles clenching into the fabric. Axel, ever the quick learner, thrusts again with more gusto. Another crackling moan from behind you. He doesn’t wait for your instruction, following the unspoken and humping into you.

“Yes, just like that.”

Axel is quick in finding his rhythm, engines whirring as his hips speed up. Your cheap mattress squeaks, bed frame now hitting the wall as Axel throws his weight into you.

“Oh, yes.” Axel moans, eyes transfixed by you jiggling ass, jiggling because of him.

“Ungh, right there!” Your neck arches backward, mouth open wide with your tongue sticking out. Axel’s head easily finds your prostate with every hit, even as Axel himself grows more frantic. Mechanical parts that you’ve never heard from him before kick into gear, helping him move with more and more force.

“Ooo-oh!” Axel digits grow slick on your sweat, struggling to find a grip. But he doesn’t care, clawing into the fat and chasing the high of your asshole around his cock. Cum and fluids spatter onto your ass cheeks, even reaching your lower back as Axel fucks you hard and fast.

“Slap my ass!”

This time the mix of adrenaline and lust are too much, overloading Axel’s more gentler sensibilities, and he gives you a proper spank. The noise echoes across the room.

“Fuck!” Your hole milks him for all his worth. Axel’s digits rub across the handprint no doubt on your skin, right before slapping the other side just as hard. “Yes! Yes!”

Your headboard crashes into your wall now, shaking the very foundations of your shitty apartment. The gears in Axel’s legs work overtime, and you're sure the only thing that could stop him now would be his own orgasm, not any kind of exhaustion.

Speaking of which-

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. W-where do you want-”

“Inside, creampie me!”

It’s like a password, sending Axel into a whole new mode of fucking. His cockhead pounds the very end of your hole, hands knotting into your ass. You feel a buzzing running up your stomach and down your legs, your cock twitching with beads of precum. Your skin feels like it's on fire.

“So good, so good, so good.” Axel’s voice babbles, no amount of steam from his vents preventing the rising heat in his wiring. “Oh, stars”

An explosion of cum bursts inside of you, filling you up like a sex toy, spurting out of the sides. You reach your high at that moment, toes curling and asshole clenching onto Axel’s cock.

The poor bot nearly collapses after he pulls out, his modesty plate shuddering to close as his temperature warning beep goes off. He falls onto his side, arm thrown over his face. 

It takes you a while to catch your breath, trying to remember the last time a client left you this cock-drunk. Once you do, you sidle up to Axel, enjoying the excess warmth of his body, like a giant heating pad.

“That was….awesome.”

Axel pants, arm slipping under your hips to pull you closer. His system beeps again, no doubt sending him advisories to push your hot, warm-blooded body away. But those are quickly deflected, Axel nuzzling his face into your hair.

Yup, definitely one of your favorites.

[crispycrimebrulee]

🎄25 Days of HXH: Day 4: Kurapika x Christmas Songs🎄

You swung a duffle bag over your shoulder and shuffled out into the snow, doing your best not to slip on your way out. The car was probably getting uncomfortably cold with the trunk wide open, but you had to get all the luggage in safely so Kurapika could see when he drives. You weren’t too fond of playing Tetris with a load of suitcases, but such is life, eh? Do They Know It’s Christmas? by Band Aid

Taglist:  @to-move-on-means-to-grow @lifescreams27 @twistedsmth @some-weeb-chick @dukinaxael @errorpeachy @demon-hugger @my-child-gaara @absolute-flaming-trash @yep-seeyalaterbranflakes

Kurapika had been given 2 weeks off for the Christmas season, and you’d worked long enough and collected enough vacation days that you could match with Kurapika and take the two weeks off as well. To top it off, the two of you had saved enough money to rent a lodge up in the mountains, far from the city, deep within the woods, a perfect snowy Christmas-y environment where you two could have some peace and quiet from the life involving work. It had been more of a surprise, really. Sure, you and Kurapika had planned to go away somewhere, and to sync up your vacation days. You’d spent weeks looking at hotels and little Christmas towns and places to go, practically losing sleep over it, trying to look for good prices and good reviews and things to do. Kurapika had come home one evening, came home to you practically pulling your hair out stressing about the best place to stay for the holiday when he told you he’d booked a lodge just for the two of you for two weeks, and you nearly screamed when you hugged him, absolutely ecstatic about the news. He’d shown you the lodge too, and you were absolutely over the moon. It was rustic, a classic wood lodge in the middle of a cluster of pine trees. A small Christmas town was a 20 minutes drive from the lodge, so you were close to activities if you so choose to do something for the day. There was a ski slope as well, 45 minutes away, and you’d mentioned wanting to at least try to ski at some point in your life. The days coming up to your departure, you’d spent so much time at the stores, buying a new coat, gifts and decorations and an extra suitcase, making sure you’d be able to pack everything you wanted for the trip.

Here you stood now, the snow was at least shin deep for you, threatening to come up to your knees and fall into your boots if you stooped too low. You were essentially dragging a suitcase behind you; too heavy to hoist it in your arms, let alone above your head, so dragging it in the snow was the next best option. Reaching the trunk, you huffed. Giving it your all, you heaved the suitcase in best you could, and rearranged it with the other pieces of luggage. Trying to shove the suitcase into a spot, your feet gave out from under you, causing your foot to slide backwards on the snow, a yelp escaping you. Your fall was stopped however, hands bracing you around your waist, the air gently pushed out of your lungs. Your hands met the edge of the trunk, and you looked up, Kurapika standing there bracing himself in the snow as well, eyes full of concern. Steadying yourself, you stood up, and Kurapika let his hands find yours, his grip gentle but strong, ready to catch you if you slipped again. 

He patted your head and sighed, still holding your hand and walked you back to the front of the house to continue packing the luggage, locking the door behind you. There was just a set of backpacks left, some snacks and a blanket were left to be placed in the car. Taking them, you easily brought them and placed them in the backseat rather than the trunk, seeing as the backseat had plenty of space. Kurapika was at the trunk, slightly rearranging the luggage and finally shutting the trunk. Checking it once more, he made his way over to the drivers side and hoped in, shivering at the chilliness of the car. You knew you should’ve heated it a while ago…

It’d been about 2 hours of driving, a couple of wrong turns here and there, and a snack break a few minutes ago. You’ve been driving in relative silence except for offering directions, wary of distracting Kurapika when he’s driving. Feeling restless, you sparked a conversation in hopes of silencing your boredom.

“Kuraaaaaapika~” you sang, looking over at him.

He glanced at you and smiled, as if sensing the spark of mischief in your tone.

“Yes, y/n? You okay?” he said, switching lanes.

“Got any favorite Christmas songs?” you asked, scrolling through your playlists, hoping you could play some music to get the atmosphere going.

Kurapika furrowed his brow, not in the sense of thinking, but more in the sense of it was a strange question. 

“Uh...I’m not sure, honestly…” he muttered, a hint of shock in his voice.

You were dumbfounded. Sure, there were just about 20 versions of Please Come Home for Christmas and 30 more versions of White Christmas, and just about every celebrity had sung Jingle Bells at least once, but everyone (or at least, most people) have a favorite Christmas song, whether it be a cover or an original. 

“Do you even listen to Christmas songs, Kurapika?”, you questioned, weary of the answer you would hear from him.

“I’ve heard them but I don’t really pay attention, love…” he replied, looking guilty.

You sighed, putting your playlist on shuffle.

The first song to come on, Mariah Carey’s All I Want for Christmas Is You, and you feigned shock and looked at Kurapika, as he glanced at you whilst you went into a mini performance. 

Doing your best to keep yourself from distracting him too much, you mouth the words, adding a bit of charades in the mix, being as cheesy as possible. Every time high notes and “all I want for Christmas is you!” came up, you’d point at him and make a heart with your hand, earning a faint blush from the boy. As overplayed this song may be, you couldn’t deny the catchiness of it, the overall festive atmosphere, you couldn’t help but get in an especially Christmas-y mood.

“You like this one?” peeking at Kurapika, doing a little shimmy in your seat.

Kurapika nodded, tapping his fingers along with the song, already falling prey to its notes.

The song faded out, and Last Christmas by Wham! came in next, causing your shimmy to slow down into a sway, putting on your best tragic yet romantic tone, pointing at him and (poorly) harmonizing with the song. 

Listening to the lyrics, Kurapika looked puzzled, looking at you briefly, “This one’s sad...and it’s a Christmas song?”

“Well, yeah...It involves Christmas so it flies.” you answered, getting lost in the song. 

Letting the song fade out, Do They Know It’s Christmas by Band Aid came on, and Kurapika let out a small gasp, a gentle smile finding its way on his lips.

“There’s a world outside your window, and it’s a world of dread and fear!” he sang softly, tapping his hands full on the wheel.

You looked at him, ecstatic that he was getting so into it.

“You know this one?!” you sang over the song a bit, dancing in your seat.

“I happen to know this one, yes”, he laughed, “Do they know it’s Christmas time at alllll!” giving it all.

His singing voice was cute and soft, yet full of joy. Even though his eyes were masked by contacts, it didn’t stop you from seeing the sparkle of happiness dancing in them, the way snowflakes dance in the cool December light at the crack of dawn. 

“We knoooooow whooooooooa! Let them know it’s Christmas time!” you let out, glancing at him as he followed along with you, letting yourselves fall into the song further, completely jamming out in the car. 

Softly ending and fading into Baby It’s Cold Outside by Indina Menzel came on next, and you went into both parts, batting your lashes at Kurapika, watching him try to keep a smile from his face as you put on a show in your seat. 

The rest of the ride was full of figuring out Kurapika’s favorite songs, and jamming out to the few that he did know, talking about the favorite aspects of the season, and planning on when to visit the little Christmas town.

After about another 2 hours of driving, you arrive at the lodge, making yourselves at home, decorating and setting up your Christmas escape. 

After flopping down on the couch in exhaustion, you snuggled up to Kurapika, laying your head against his chest, finding his hand quietly seeking out yours to hold as you relaxed, finally, for a moment. Laying there in silence, the warmth of each other and the steady beat of Kurapika’s heart against your own, you felt drowsy, and you found no need to stop yourself.

Until Kurapika started lazily humming Baby Please Come Home by Mariah Carey, and you looked up at him, his eyes hazy and glazed with sleep, looking adorable and peaceful as he hummed. 

“Someone’s a Mariah Carey fan, huh?” snuggling up to him closer, remembering how excited he had gotten when he heard the song.

A small, huffy laugh escaped Kurapika as he rested his cheek against your head, “I suppose so, y/n.”

You smiled to yourself as you fell asleep, Kurapika following suit not to long after, his humming slowly fading out into soft sleep.

[katrinawritesthings]

jonghyun / key; tops can’t sext; PG-13

“Oh my fucking god,” Key mutters. He does not fucking believe. “What the fuck else was I supposed to send you?”

“Something with at least a modicum of effort,” Jonghyun says.

Jonghyun delicately pushes his phone a millimeter to the right, trying to lean in front of it so he can see the screen without leaning in front of the camera so that he blocks it. It's finally at a good angle, he thinks; he's got it stacked up on top of several books and the box that his newest scented candle came in to give it a couple inches of extra height on top of his dresser. It's looking down at the edge of his bed, not so steeply that it can see the frame, but not so shallowly that it can see the mess of all of his pillows and blankets that he shoved up to the front. Just perfect enough for a nice area for him to sit in very pretty and adorable. 

He smiles, proud of himself. He sits down so he can pull his cute black thigh highs up around his thighs , fixing them up nice and pretty. He fixes his hair in the camera next, pushing and playing with his bangs until they look perfect, then pops his lips a few times and grabs his lip gloss to add a little bit. They need to be perfect and glittery and glossy. 

Then he stands up just so he can shimmy in his sweater dress and pull it down to cling around his thighs and then gently tug it up to just barely cover his ass. He makes sure to make it look casual, rumpled but not messy, lazy but not sloppy. he sits back down, then wiggles and struggles into the position he wants: on his side, back and booty facing the camera, legs curled up just slightly, dick very cutely visible behind his thighs, upper body propped up on 1 elbow, his other hand tucking his fingers into the hem of his sweater teasingly, a bitten smile sent over his shoulder.

He squints at his phone. That's a pretty good shot, he thinks. Maybe be a little closer to the edge. He takes a moment to mentally figure out how he's going to get exactly back into this position in 10 seconds, then takes a deep breath and gets up again. 

 With one knee still on the bed, he reaches over and taps the shutter button on his phone. Then he scrambles to get back into position, making sure he's in the right spot, his dress is perfectly imperfect, his hair doesn't get mussed, his pose is precise, his expression is exactly what he wanted it to be. He barely has a second to spare before the picture takes.

He gives it a few seconds after, just to make sure, before he sits back up at the edge of the bed and grabs his phone to look at it. When he does, he frowns. The lighting is a little weird. He puts his phone back, then gets up and opens just his blackout curtains, leaving the fancy decorative set of curtains that go over them still closed. Just to let in a little more natural light.

He takes the picture again, and then again because he didn't make it in time and it was a little blurry, and then bites his lip, grabs his cute puppy ear headband from his closet, puts that on, reapplies his lip gloss, and takes another picture.

 That one Jonghyun is happy with. He smiles down at it, zooming in to look at his perfect hair and glittery lips, then zooming out and cropping it to fit better in the frame and adding a cute heart filled filter on top. Once it's perfect, he rolls onto his stomach to type out his sext. He kicks his feet in the air as he writes a couple of nice little paragraphs that detail how exactly he wants to be rawed, makes sure to end with a suggestion and a leading question and several pink emojis.

Finally he's satisfied, and after checking his spelling and grammar a couple of times, sends it and the picture to Key. 

15 seconds after the message sends, he gets a reply.

It's a dick pic. It's Key’s dick, pulled out of his boxers, flopped onto his thigh. In the background Jonghyun can see his legs sprawled out over his couch, the entire mess of jackets and hats and bags at the opposite end, one of his socks half falling off. There's also a stray pube sitting on the sliver of skin between Key’s shirt hem and boxers.

The message that comes with it is, “Super cute what are you going to do with this puppy boy ; )”

Jonghyun sees red for a second.

 ~

Key thumbs through his phone lazily, checking his Instagram notifications while he waits for a reply text from Jonghyun. It's been at least 20 minutes; he's probably busy or something since he's not replying straight away like usual. A little rude, if you ask Key, to start up sexting when you're not even ready to commit to it, but whatever. He's not complaining. He's just chilling with his phone and his half chub, waiting patiently.

Rattling from his back door makes him startle and drop his phone. Who the fuck. He's going through his mental list of who he's given a spare house key to when he hears the door open and a voice call out through the house.

“Hey dickhead, it's me,” the voice says, and that's Jonghyun. Key relaxes, and then frowns, confused, as Jonghyun appears at the doorway to his living room, putting his sunglasses up on his head and smiling bright.

“Did you text me you were coming over and I didn't see it?” Key asks, picking up his phone again. If that's what happened then that would make Jonghyun’s silence for the past 20 minutes makes sense.

“Mmm, no,” Jonghyun hums. “I read your last message and I just. Had to come over and tell you how it made me feel!” he chirps, bright as the moon at night, sharp teeth biting into a glossy pink lip. He walks over to stand behind the couch and smile down at Key. Key takes a second to process this, and then smirks himself, running his fingers through his hair and raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah?” he asks. If he'd known that Jonghyun was so easy to please, maybe he would sext him more often. “Why don't you tell--”

Before he can even finish that sentence, Jonghyun makes a sudden, intense movement. He slaps one hand on the back of the couch, crouches down, and then, before Key even understands what's going on, the couch is moving. It's lifting, turning, tilting over, and then he's rolling, and then the floor is coming up very very close very very fast, and then he's screaming, and then he's in pain.

Mostly in his dick, which was still out, and which just made very close nuzzly friends with the carpet, and which now feels like it's on fire a little bit. 

Key grunts into the carpet, disoriented. “What the absolute fuck,“ he thinks. 

“What the absolute fuck,” he says out loud. 

“Do you know how long it took me to send you that text?”

“What?” Key repeats. He pushes himself up on his forearm and pushes his hair out of his face, squinting up at Jonghyun.

Jonghyun has set the couch back down and he's leaning up on the back of it, elbows on the cushions and hands crossed at the wrists. He's also smirking, the asshole, down at Key like he's proud of himself. He's changed out of his cute sweater dress, too, exchanging it for one of his sleeveless black band T-shirts. 

“Like 25 minutes,” he says accusingly. He points one very loud finger at Key, his mouth turning into a sharp frown. “It took me like 25 minutes to get all dressed up and get a perfect angle and take that picture and write all of that shit,” he snaps. “Fuck you and your five-second dick pic.” 

“Oh my fucking god,” Key mutters. He does not fucking believe. “What the fuck else was I supposed to send you?”

“Something with at least a modicum of effort,” Jonghyun says. Key grunts under his breath, shaking his head as he pushes himself up to his knees. What the fuck. Getting one hand on the seat of the couch, he pushes himself to his feet, puts his dick away, and then flops back down onto the cushions in time to see Jonghyun hopping over the back. He lands in the space next to Key and immediately leans into his side, getting himself comfortable with Key as a pillow. Key scowls at him. 

He opens his mouth to say something very grumbly and scathing, but before he can, he notices that all of his clothes that were on the end of the couch are now all over the floor. Instead, he tsks loudly and tries to get up and gesture at all of them. Jonghyun pushes him right back down and snuggles even closer to him, smiling his brattiest. 

“Maybe if you cleaned your house every once in awhile and weren't a shitty top then they wouldn't be there,” he says. Like this is Key’s fault.

“I am not a shitty top,” Key says. Jonghyun just raises his eyebrows at him and then very pointedly rolls his eyes over to his phone. Or, wait-- “That's my phone,” Key exclaims, reaching for it. Quick as lightning, Jonghyun grabs his wrist, and then his other wrist when he tries a second time. Key struggles while Jonghyun effortlessly transfers both of his wrists to one hand and then picks up his phone again. ”You're too buff,” he mutters.

“Thank you so very much for buying me coffee,” Jonghyun smiles. And sure enough, Key sits and watches and whines helplessly as Jonghyun orders himself a latte using Key’s account. “What do you want?” he asks, easily making Key poke himself with his own fingers. Key glares at him, then sighs and says, “There's a button to just get my regular.”

“Ooh, neat,” Jonghyun chirps, finding it and poking it. He finishes the order, then tosses Key’s phone into his lap and gives him back his wrists. “Every time you send me an awful zero effort sext back to something I clearly spent time on I'm going to come over here and steal your phone and buy myself a coffee,” he threatens."If you don't have time then just don't send anything back."

“Fuck you,” Key snaps. At the same time, while Jonghyun turns and snuggles him and grabs the remote to turn on his TV, he pulls open the internet and looks up how to take a better dick pic.

[mydisenchantedeulogy]

Irresistible [Chisaki Kai - Overhaul]

A/n: It’s been too long since I put the preview out for this OS and finally I have finished it.

Shame he’s a criminal.

Men such as him rarely stay in contact with people like you. No … it’s not because you’re boring; not because you’re unattractive or have a rotten personality, but because you don’t have a quirk. You simply are not relevant.

In a world were eight percent of the general public have quirks, those 20 percent like you live unnoticed. It sounds a lot worse than it is, but you honestly don’t mind. No one even gives you a second glance when they find out – this works for you, taking into account the household you share ties to.

Then he came into your life; ever so charming he was. Kai … what a dream. His interest in you seemed so pure and genuine; he made the very idea of being wanted sound like heaven. Your grandfather warned you about him, but you were hooked. So what if he was a member of the Shie Hassaikai; you were tied to them. Either way, he was the perfect lover until he kidnapped you.

How did it come to this? You weren’t exactly sure. One minute you were in bed, and the next minute you were here; within the walls of the Shie Hassaikai base, unable to leave. Long and boring story short, you were his alone.

Literally, you grunt. Resting on the couch in his office, you nod in boredom. It’s been a long day; no one in and no one out, except Chrono – who brings necessities when you ask for them. How long have you been waiting? Same novel resting on your knees, open on the same page you started on.

It occurs to you that you could run; try to run – you know these walls, having been here to drop in on your grandfather from time to time, before he went into the coma. But why? What would be the point? There’s no escape; he knows where to find you.

The door across the room suddenly opens, making you lurch in fear as Kai saunters in. You know it’s him; the air crackles with power and becomes heavy with something akin to arousal. This worries you, even more so when he comes over to the couch and sits beside you. For an instant you consider asking him about his day, but decide against it. Kai is sometimes hard to read.

However, you do give him a concerned look. He seems tense and a bit tired; more than usual. This side of Kai you are not eager to see. You set the book aside and move a seat closer.

“May I see Eri soon? I asked her caretaker to get a board game for me that I would like to play with her.”

He stares as your hand slides between his open legs. Stroking him through his polyester slacks, you hope that he will conform in your favor, but he is unresponsive.

“I have plans for her this week. She won’t feel much like having company; family or not,” he explains.

This makes your stomach clench in dread. Uncertain as to what he’s doing to her or what his reason is, you know that Eri is important to him; far too important to be let go. In the confines of his room or his office there’s not much you can do to help out your little cousin – you rarely get to see her as is – but what you can do is be there for her until you find a way to save her.

Leaning over his arm you softly kiss his ear. “Please Kai. She needs me; she’s a scared little girl with no one to put her at ease.”

You taste his skin; his piercings are cold against your warm tongue. No … you’re not always content with this, but it works.  

His cock hardens beneath your fingers; his given name is a double-edged sword given the situation. It helps that you have family connections to the former boss, and that Kai had introduced himself as such the first time you had met. You don’t say his name too often; you’re scared he might get annoyed.

“Is that what you want? To see Eri?”

You rest against his side and hide your embarrassed face into the warm fur of his coat. “It is. Will you have me?”

Kai heaves a deep sigh. He clearly wants you – the swell of his cock is proof enough – otherwise he’d order you to stop. “Have you been checked yet?”

“Chrono took me earlier this week; he’ll tell you. I also brought the papers back home with me,” you explain with a frown. His mysophobia sometimes complicates things, but at least his attention is yours.

He lifts out his gloved hand; he wants to see them. You stand up and move over to the desk he sometimes occupies. The file is on top, so you swiftly pick it up and bring it back to him. As he carefully reads over the paper work, you kiss his neck. Your fingers trace the contour of his mask.

“May I?”

Kai nods, so you hesitantly crawl into his lap – careful not to anger him – and slip your fingers around the back of his ears to detach his plague mask. The unnecessary thing slides off his face with ease. You set it aside and bring your arms up and around his neck. The fur on his jacket tickles your bare skin as you lean forward and press your lips to his.

The kiss is one sided, however, as his attention is more focused on your release forms.

You grunt in annoyance and cup his face, tearing him away from the useless task. He knows you’re clean; Kai makes sure you follow all his instructions when it comes to your personal hygiene. It’s a force of habit, you’ve come to learn.

He puckers a brow as you try and keep him from looking away. Your short nails dig into his skin.

“You can read them when I suck you off. Kiss me first,” you order. There is an eager tone in your voice.

Kai grabs your arm and pulls you closer. He seems amused; his beautiful gold eyes are not as intense.

“Kiss you? Are you the boss now?”

You nod. “I want you … and I always get what I want.”

“Maybe I spoil you a little too much,” he says fervently.

His deep and prudent voice makes your heart speed up. Maybe he does pamper you; maybe you like him a little too much. It’s a fucked-up situation you are stuck in, but a part of you – the desperate part of you that craves his attention – can’t help it. He’s cruel and he’s a sociopath, but he fortunately doesn’t view you as a scourge to the planet.

And yet, ordering around the Shie Hassaikai head – despite it being meant to get him turned on – is perhaps not a good thing.

Kai hooks a thumb into your mouth and yanks. As one who startles easily, you flinch, but he lays a hand on your lower back and keeps you in place against his chest. You swear he looks delighted.

“What’s the matter? I thought you wanted me to kiss you.”

You hesitantly nod. The awful taste of latex fills your mouth as he presses down your tongue. It bothers you only because he isn’t giving you a chance to have a word. Does he honestly like to see you squirm so much?

“Open your mouth,” Kai orders.

You comply – so not to anger him – even though you want this done a gentler way.

His kiss is demanding. You struggle to breathe as he all but crushes you against his sturdy frame. A weak and pitiful moan escapes you, but honestly you don’t care. This man tastes so good. Grabbing his tie, you shove forward your hips to create a little friction against your wet core, but he grabs your thighs and grounds you.

Kai parts, curling up his nose at the lewd sight of saliva breaking from your tender lips. He locks his arms around you and stands, carrying you over to his desk. You instinctively undo the catch on your slacks and shimmy them down as he undoes his own.

“Scoot to the edge,” he orders.

You do, spreading your legs so that he can move between them. His hands find your hips and presses you down onto his cock. A soft moan escapes you. Damn do you love this; full up on him. You hold onto the desk’s edge as he fucks you, nails rooting into the wood. Pants and lewd noises pour spontaneously from your dry mouth, praying for him to make you cum. He brings you closer each time he thrusts into your core, but it’s not enough.

“Please baby … I want to be yours.”

Kai chews his lip.

“You are mine; you were always meant to be,” he explains softly.

This should discourage you; should make you sick, but with him so deep inside your tight cunt, the thought doesn’t even enter your fucked-out mind. He wants you; needs you. It drives you over the edge. You cum hard, moaning as intense pleasure consumes you.

God yes.

Kai restrains your limbs, groaning as he too reaches his end; warm cum soaks your inner thighs as he removes himself. Feeling spent, you are content with resting on the desk for a moment longer, but Kai lifts you.

“Where are you taking me?”

Kai narrows his eyes. “Shower.”

You don’t bother to argue with him; he won’t allow you to sleep on his bed unless you’ve bathed.

Things could be a lot worse; you suppose. Being wanted isn’t so bad. You rest against his arm, closing your eyes. It’s best not to think about it; not right now. Maybe not even tomorrow once you wake up beside him.

Shame he’s a criminal; you might have fallen for him otherwise.

[dcbbw]

How do DC AU Maxwell and Olivia commemorate the grand holiday of 4/20?? Moreover, what do they do to set it apart from every other day?

Thanks for the ask, @burnsoslow! Answer below. (excuse typos and grammatical errors)

Olivia walked into the kitchen, pulling her hair back in a ponytail. Maxwell looked up from a pan of chicken breasts, setting the spatula in the counter. He moved to the sink, cutting the faucet on.

“Hold on, let me wash my hands and I’ll help you,” he offered.

Olivia nodded as she looked around the apartment. It was minimally decorated for the upcoming holiday that would be arriving in a little over an hour. But she had holiday music playing, and their friends would be over for a quiet get together; there would be food, drink, conversation. And presents!

The holidays were about togetherness.

Maxwell’s hand on her arm drew her attention to him. He was standing in front of her, his fingers combing through her red tresses, pulling some hair across her forehead; he then stood behind her and pulled the rest back, looping it through a hair band. His lips touched the back of her neck lightly.

“You’re beautiful.”

“Does the apartment look okay? Should there be more decorations?”

“The gang doesn’t care; I just hope they remember to bring the food!”

“They will,” Olivia said dismissively. “If not, it’s gonna be a pretty quick dinner.”

Maxwell sang along with the song coming from the CD system. “That song is a classic!”

There was a knock on the door. Olivia asked him to check on the macaroni and cheese as she hurried to the door. She pulled it open to see Liam, Riley, Alyssa, and Drake laden down with bags and aluminum trays.

“Happy Weed Eve!” Liam exclaimed cheerily as he walked through the doorway.

Greetings were exchanged as packages were set down on tables and countertops. Jackets and coats were hung on the coat rack before Riley, Liam, and Drake began unwrapping pans of hamburgers, steaks, potato salad, and tuna and pasta salad.

Alyssa was pulling paper plates and plasticware from bags. “Did we get cups?” she asked with a frown.

“Yeah! They should be in the white bag! With the napkins!” Riley called from the kitchen.

Liam heard the music and began to dance, his shoulders rolling and his hips gyrating. “Dude … Dr. Dre?”

Maxwell grinned as he moved chicken from the pan to a serving plate. “The Chronic,” he confirmed.

“CLASSIC!” Alyssa threw her hands in the air as her head bobbed.

Liam grinned as he shimmied over to her. They began to dance, complete with hip bumps and foot locks. Riley and Drake saw the pair dancing and exchanged blank stares.

“Why did we break up again?” Riley asked.

Drake shook his head. “No idea.”

Olivia shooed her friends out of the kitchen and into the living room, insisting she and Maxwell could set up. There was another knock on the door. Drake went to answer it. Madeleine and Leo entered, carrying bags of alcohol and ice.

Riley was sitting on an oversized floor pillow; she waved to Madeleine and Leo. Liam danced up to his brother and his girlfriend. “Sookie sookie, now … issa party for real,” he said as he took some bags from Madeleine.

Drake and Alyssa sat on the couch; they were soon joined by Madeleine and Leo. Liam sat next to Riley on the pillow. His socks peeked from beneath his black jeans. Leo noticed.

“What socks you wearing tonight, bro?”

Liam proudly pulled up the hem of his pants to show off black socks with bright green weed leaves. The green of the leaves matched his shirt.

“Riley B. has sock game too!” he said proudly.

Riley rolled her eyes. “He guilted me into wearing them.”

“I did not! She was pressed to wear them.” Liam teased.

Alyssa clapped her hands together excitedly. “Can we see?”

Riley sighed as she rolled up her leggings to reveal a blue sock with multicolored flowers and the phrase “I’m a delicate fucking flower.”

Madeleine’s eyes widened in appreciation. “I like it!”

The conversation was interrupted by Maxwell, asking who the designated drivers were. Riley and Leo raised their hands. Everyone looked at Riley. Riley stared back.

“What?”

Liam pulled her arm down and raised his instead. Everyone nodded in relief.

Drake looked around. “Where’s the holiday bong?”

Maxwell’s head tilted towards a table in the corner, where a tall, cylindrical glass bong with swirls of green paint decorating it sat. Random strands of tinsel hung from it while green Christmas tree balls surrounded it. Before he could comment, Olivia hollered for folks to come and get it!

Liam looked at Riley B. “What do you want?”

“Everything!”

Liam shook his head. “You’re not gonna eat it all. How about we share a plate?”

Riley nodded. “And can I have a water?”

“You get a beer. I’ll get a water.”

Liam stood, and went to the kitchen, feeling Riley watching him. They still had not been on a real date, but they were hanging out more. Usually at her place; they cuddled, kissed, and made out , but no further. He didn’t care. He was getting more than he had ever dreamed of; at least Riley was beginning to trust that Liam was truly interested in her. And not just in a sexual bucket list kind of way.

Riley watched Liam chat and maneuver his way around the kitchen, filling their plate.

He really liked her.

All this time, he had harbored his crush while she kept trying to dismiss hers. She still had her reservations:  Riley worried about their friendship if a relationship didn’t work out. What would he do when and if he ever saw her naked?  But she was getting ahead of herself. They hadn’t even started, no need to worry about their ending. She saw him look up, and wink at her.

She quickly turned her head to look out the window. I wasn’t watching you.

Olivia was fixing a plate for Maxwell. He came behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Having fun?” he whispered in her ear.

Olivia laid her head against his chest. “Always with you.”

Drake was fixing plates for him and Alyssa; Alyssa was fixing their drinks. Madeleine smirked. “Somehow I figured Drake to be the bartender.”

Leo chuckled as he spooned potato salad on his plate.

Soon, everyone was seated, eating, and talking.

“Thanks for hosting this, guys!” Alyssa said as she bit into a burger. A low moan escaped her mouth. “Oh, my God! These are delicious!”

“Thank you guys for coming! 420 is our favorite holiday, and we appreciate you all sharing it with us,” Maxwell said.

“I’m going to petition our Congressperson to make it a national, federal holiday!” Olivia said.

“Hmmmm … DC doesn’t have representation in Congress,” Drake pointed out.

“Well, that’s bullshit!” Olivia huffed before taking a long pull of her beer.

Liam fed Riley a forkful of steak and macaroni and cheese. Alyssa saw them.

“You two are so cute together,” she squealed.

“We are not together!” Riley corrected her.

Liam smirked. “Not yet. Until our schedules align for proper dating, we’re more Netflix and chill kinda folks.”

“Stop saying that!” Riley hissed as she swatted his arm.

Liam kissed her on her cheek.

An alarm chimed, signaling it was midnight.

“HAPPY 420!” the group yelled.

Maxwell set his plate on the coffee table, and reached into his pocket, extracting a large bag of weed. He grinned to the group. “This is from our guy in Mount Pleasant.”

Leo looked impressed. “I heard they shut that corner of the world down.”

Maxwell winked at him. “You gotta know where to look.”

Drake suggested they tidy up and pack their to-go plates first. They would be useless trying to do it while high. Everyone agreed.

Olivia asked if they had brought their own Tupperware because they weren’t taking hers.

Riley, Alyssa, and Leo began gathering plates and heading towards the kitchen. Liam joined them after rummaging in bags for the takeaway containers. Madeleine, Maxwell, and Olivia worked together to roll a huge blunt.

Twenty minutes later, food was packed away, and the kitchen was clean. Trash sat in bags to be taken down when the group left. Alyssa turned the music up and Olivia fired up the blunt. There were coughs and chokes and murmurs of damn, this is good shit as everyone except the designated drivers toked. The room quickly filled with pungent smoke.

Oliva freed her hair from its ponytail, her movements both deliberate and languid.

Maxwell settled back against the couch cushions, eyes closed.

Alyssa cuddled on Drake’s lap while he blew her shotguns.

Leo watched Madeleine carefully. She didn’t indulge often and was a sleeper when she did. Madeleine had once fallen asleep at Liam’s after a Saturday afternoon toke; Leo spent the rest of the weekend at his brother’s apartment waiting for Madeleine to wake up.  

Liam got Riley a water because she kept choking when she inhaled. “It’s not a cigarette, Riley B. Take your time,” he encouraged her.

Riley looked at him with wide, red eyes. “This is some strong shit, Liam!”

Liam smiled gently at her, his finger grazing her cheek. “I can tell.”

Riley giggled.

Silence as the friends finished passing and puffing. When the blunt was gone, everyone looked at each other in a slight stupor.

“I’m so high right now!” Madeleine yelled to no one.

Alyssa looked at Oliva with glassy blue eyes. “So, what else do you two do on 420?”

Olivia stretched her arms above her head, her hands landing in her hair. “We exchange presents, sleep in, get high. It’s a lazy day for us.”

“I’ve never celebrated it,” Alyssa confessed.

“Well, now you have.” Drake nibbled on her ear lobe.

Maxwell’s fingers began slowly walking up Olivia’s thigh. She bit her lip as her green eyes locked with his sapphire blue ones. She arched an eyebrow. He nodded his head.

Leo and Liam saw the exchange; the brothers exchanged smirks. Here it comes …

Maxwell clapped his hands together as he jumped up from the couch. “Okay, guys! It’s been great, it’s been fun, but it’s time to leave!”

Riley looked at him with a confused expression. “Go home?”

“Not saying I don’t care where you go, but you gotta go! Olivia has your goodies for you, and you’ll get them at the door.”

Liam laughed as he helped Riley stand up. Max and Liv did this every time. And Riley always acted as if it were something brand new to her. Riley straightened her stance and wobbled a little bit.

Olivia snickered. “She always was a lightweight.”

Slowly the rest of the group stood; they experimentally tested their reflexes and balance. Riley broke free of Liam’s grasp, insisting she was fine, and promptly stumbled into a wall. Liam grabbed Riley around her waist, turning her to face him; he inspected her forehead before peppering it with kisses.

Alyssa wrapped her arms around Drake’s waist and refused to let go; she wouldn’t let him put on his jacket and said to leave hers. She didn’t need it. Drake gently pried her hands from his body; he knew from experience anything left at Max and Liv’s place became their property. A person would have an easier time retrieving their car from an impound lot.

Madeleine was the only one who had indulged who could both stand and walk without staggering. She helped Leo gather up bags of food and bottles of beer.

Olivia began passing out small brown paper bags to her friends as she bid them good night.

Liam wrapped his arm around Riley’s waist, guiding her to the door. She pouted at Olivia. “You’re mean, Liv! You’re like … a bitch! A teeny, tiny bitch! I don’t wanna go home!”

Olivia gave Liam his goodie bag before quickly flickering her eyes between him and Riley; he nodded, indicating he would take care of Riley. She pressed a small paper bag containing two blunts and a bag of edibles into Riley’s hand.

Behind Olivia, Maxwell’s hands were palming her ass, his fingers skimming her skin as they hooked into the waistband of her yoga pants.

“Public holiday, private after party! See ya, girl!”

Tagging: @sirbeepsalot @wannabemc2 @jared2612 @katedrakeohd @hopefulmoonobject @custaroonie @liam-rhys @jovialyouthmusic @thequeenofcronuts @amomentofsinclairity @bobasheebaby @ao719 @sashatrr @marietrinmimi @ladyangel70 @gardeningourmet @umccall71 @angi15h @romanticatheart-posts @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @blznbaby @tabithacarlisle @emceesynonymroll @bbrandy2002 @ab1901 @janezillow @debramcg1106 @radlovedreamer @jessiembruno @lodberg @thecordoniandiaries @ramseyandrys @caroldxnvxrs @princess-geek @burnsoslow @annekebbphotography @merridithsmiscellany-blog @queenjilian @emichelle @indiacater @loveellamae @forthebrokenheartedthings-blog @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @glaimtruelovealways @zaffrenotes @bebepac @liyanin @soheila-1996 @dibberdipper @yungnayque

[kumkaniudaku]

NSFW Alphabet

A/N: This wasn’t planned, but I found this WIP, so I finished it. Enjoy. 

"Are you recording?" 

"Yep." 

"You wanna move the camera up from between my legs?" 

"Nope." 

CoCo playfully smacked her husband's arm and adjusted the camera on her own while he sported a goofy smile off-camera. 

After their evening excursion and almost getting caught in the throes of passion by fellow tourists, the couple decided to move the party back to their private villa. Forty-five minutes later, after they were both tired and sore, CoCo decided to add more to their home movie. 

"Why are we doing this, baby? I'm tired," Chadwick yawned behind the camera. 

"Because we should have memories of how we liked to "enjoy" each other in the bedroom. Who knows when we'll have to stop for good!" 

"I'm never stopping. And, judging by the way you like to act up when it's time to get down, I know you won't stop either." 

CoCo chewed her bottom lip as she raked her fingernails down Chadwick's chest. If he hadn't declared that he was tapping out, she would've requested another round. 

"Well, just in case we do, I wanna be able to look back and see what we were into. So, will you please open your eyes and participate for 20 more minutes?" 

"What do I get out of it?" 

"You can lay on my chest, and I'll rub your ears even after you fall asleep."

Chadwick took in the proposal with careful consideration, tapping his chin in prolonged silence to agitate his wife. CoCo smacked her teeth before pinching one of his nipples between her thumb and index finger. 

"Ow! Okay, okay! I'll do it," he laughed. "What are we doing anyway?" 

"I found some not safe for work questions on Tumblr. Have you ever been on there?" 

"I don't even know what that is. Is that a porn site?" 

"It damn near used to be," CoCo laughed. "That's beside the point. I'm gonna ask some questions about our sex life, and we'll both answer them honestly. Okay?" 

"I'll do whatever you ask if you take this robe off so that I can see your whole body." CoCo rolled her eyes as she shimmied out of the sheer black lace robe, receiving a nod of approval from her husband. "Perfect. Continue." 

"You're annoying. Anyway, first question: What's your favorite body part of mine?" 

"That's easy. These." Chadwick ran his fingers up and down his wife's legs with a smile. "You have great legs, and they look good from all angles."

"What's your favorite angle?" 

"Next to your ears."

Chadwick winked at CoCo's impressed expression. "I like that! I would've guessed my boobs." 

"I like those too. But your legs attracted me to you."

"You're so mushy," she laughed, earning sour expression in response. "I'd say my favorite body part on you is your chest." 

"Oh, really? Even after you called me Parrot for two years because of my bird chest?" 

"Look, things change. Your body started catching up to your age, and I had to fight the demon of lust!" 

"A whole demon?" 

The pair shared a belly laugh at the phrase, allowing the silly demonstration to continue for as long as they saw fit. 

"Okay," CoCo panted as she tried not to laugh again. "Next question: What's your favorite position? I already know the answer to that." 

"Well, what is it, since you know so much?"

"You looooove backshots, babe. I'm starting to feel like you think I'm ugly." 

The camera bobbed up and down in time with Chadwick's laughter, catching the half-smile/half pout that Tasha sported. 

"I do not think you're ugly," he affirmed between gasps for air. "You're beautiful, but you like to run from me when it's getting too intense." 

"I never run," Tasha exclaimed before allowing her face to relax into a smirk. She knew she tended to shy away from the action when the rumble of eruption started in the pit of her belly. 

"Yeah, right. Why do you think I always tell you not to fight it? I love it when my put-together wife loses control." His voice dropped to the same sultry baritone that was responsible for each of their children and their current post-sex glow, igniting a small shiver that he could feel beneath the warm skin of his palm on CoCo's leg. 

"I'll, uh... I'll keep that in mind," she whispered." Now guess mine. What's my favorite position?" 

"You like being on top, and I like seeing you on top. But if we're specific, you like to reverse cowgirl while I'm sitting in a chair or something." 

"You know me so well! I'll make sure I reward that later." The two shared a wink and lustful touches before continuing. "Okay, tell me your favorite place to cum that isn't inside me." 

"Easy, your ass. Next." 

"Any secrets you wanna share?" 

Chadwick thought for a moment, "I know I said I was against the toys in the bedroom thing at first, but I changed my mind. I like that wand shit you got and the thing with your birthstone on it. What is it again?" 

"My butt plug?" 

"Hate the name, but, yeah, that. It looks nice," he laughed. "Let me ask you something." 

"Oooh, we're switching it up. Shoot!" 

Tasha could sense the trepidation as her husband took timid glances around the room before looking back at her. "What's your favorite way to receive and give head?"

"That's a good question! I love getting head in the shower when you lift me under the showerhead. I'm so glad we listened to the sales guy and got the big expensive one."

"You ain't lying," he laughed. "And giving?"

"When you're standing, and I can look up and you from my knees. You always give me this little look, these soft love drunk eyes, that let me know that I'm satisfying you. And that's all I want…to satisfy you."

Tasha's eyes were round and innocent in the way that sent Chadwick's brain into overdrive as it recalled every moment she'd ever given him 'the look.' 

"Keep talkin' like that, and we won't need to adopt. We'll leave here with a baby from scratch." 

"Mmmm, I like that." Her face left the camera's view for a second, leaving behind the wet smacking of lips tangled in sweet kisses. "Two more, and we can stop. What do I do best in the bedroom?" 

"Tasha, baby, your mouth is filthy in bed. Fuck, I love it."

"Really," Tasha questioned with a mix of shock and embarrassment. 

"Hands down. I could listen to you read the phonebook and be turned on. I'll ask you the same question. What do I do best?"

"It's hard to pinpoint. You do a great job of adapting our sex to what we both need at the moment. I've never been left unsatisfied."

"Trust me; it's a pleasure, baby." Being in such close proximity allowed the couple to feel the heat of the other growing with each question. Already impatient, Chadwick took a sweeping look over his wife's body and anchored a hand on Tasha's thigh.

"Next question, where is your favorite to have sex or that we have had sex?"

He thought for a moment before a huge grin spread across his face. "You remember that time we snuck and did it at your mom's house? Right before we got married?" 

"Please, don't do this."

"Don't act shy now," he exclaimed as Tasha hid her face behind her hand. "You gave me the instructions on how to sneak up there and have your head buried in the pillows. As a matter of fact, how many times have you done that?" 

"Only once! And it wasn't for sex. It was to help out a friend who was staying over… as an alibi before she left to have sex." 

"Yeah, right. Same question, Sneaky." 

"Easy! Our first time in our current bedroom." Chadwick wasn't fooled by Tasha's cookie-cutter answer, evident by his eye roll and the loud kissing of his teeth. 

"You think I'm stupid?" 

"What!" 

"Don't play, Co. What's your real answer?" He watched you feign innocence for a few seconds before landing a hard smack to your thigh. 

"Okay, okay! The time we snuck away from my parent's house and almost got caught in my sister's car in the culdesac the next street over. I think that I should've won an Academy Award for Best Performance in a Quickie." 

Despite the soreness already present in their faces, the two of them laughed until tears trickled from Tasha's eyes, and Chadwick was gasping for deep breaths. 

 "Alright, I'm gonna be honest and say I take back what I said earlier. I got the best 3 minutes of your waiting for you when this is done. Make this the last question."

"Okay, baby. Last question: When we look back on this in 20, 30, 40 years, what will you remember most about this time we spent together?"

Out of every question that had asked throughout the night, this one was the easiest for Chadwick to answer. He grabbed Tasha's hand to bring to her knuckles to his lips for a kiss. 

"I'll remember how much I love Tasha, the person. Outside of Tasha the mother, the sister, the friend, the wife, Tasha the mother is my favorite person to ever exist. Not for what you do for me and others, but for who you are every day when you think I'm not looking. I love Tasha the goofball that makes a song out of everything. Or compassionate Tasha that I have literally seen take the clothes off her back to give to others. All of this other shit might fade, but I'll never forget the way I love you." 

'Are you...are you trying to make me cry," CoCo asked as she wiped tears at her waterline. 

"Not like that, but it helps." CoCo's fresh tears came to an abrupt halt, replaced by a brief flicker of annoyance to match the swatting motion she made at her husband's chest. Chadwick caught blow in his much bigger hands and use the leverage to pull his body up. "I love you." 

"And I love you," she added with a kiss that he readily returned. 

"Good. Now, I'm about to turn this shit off, and you're about to turn over." 

The camera caught audio of Tasha's excited squeal before Chadwick pressed stop and ensure that recording saved. Seconds later, the camera was opened to begin a new movie. If they were supposed to capture everything, they couldn't miss a moment, right? 

------

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