#the blue silk blouse compliments his honey skin so much

[cxffecoupx]

everybody say THANK YOU DOKYEOM

thinking about dokyeom underneath you, with his blue silky blouse open wide.

his eyes are closed shut, his honey colored chest covered in a thin layer of sweat as he groans, pushing his head further into the couch's cushion. you get a perfect view of his neck, wanting nothing more than to sink your teeth into its skin, leave some marks - but you know you can't.

"shiiit", and another groan as you sink yourself on him.

his chest is broad enough to accommodate both your hands now, letting you use it as a laverage for your movements.

it's raw, and it's quick paced because dokyeom meets your movements halfway through it, too desperate to feel you and to empty himself in you.

his hands loosely hold your hips, the dampness on both your skins making it too difficult to grab its flesh.

"fuck, love, it feels so good", he mumbles through short breaths. his eyes are open now, watching where you two connect and he disappears inside you.

dokyeom can feel everything, from the way you're so warm around him to the way his heart is beating fast against your palm; from the excitement of having you again to the risk of getting caught by his manager.

it feels dirty, and that just arouses him even more. the sounds you're making do not help at all, breathy moans that don't echo through the room but go straight into dokyeom's ears - and ego.

he is gone, though, the moment you take one of his hands and bring it to your mouth, lips circling both his index and middle finger to suck on it.

"shit, shit, shit", dokyeom squirms underneath you. "love, i'm gonna cum. i-'m gonna-"

his climax washes over him hard and fast, and he's more than surprised when you don't stop bouncing on him, chasing your own high as he rides out his.

the overstimulation kicks in just as you cum too, finally slowing down on top of him. dokyeom is a mess, there are dark spots on his blue blouse caused by sweat, he can feel both his and your release dripping from you and sticking to his lower abdomen and thighs too, and he knows his makeup must be ruined.

still, he would do it all over again in a heartbeat.

[ardent-musings]

Manipulation and Mechanics

           A Murphy McNully Smut

           Warnings: NSFW 18+

            You had no idea what you were getting yourself into when you first decided to start teasing Murphy on the daily. One week you had accidently missed doing your laundry, leaving you with a tiny selection of clothing for you to choose from. Most of the items you wore on the daily were comfortable sweaters, something cozy and laidback. However as you shuffled through your unimpressive amount of clean clothes, you were forced to wear a slightly more risqué top than you usually did. Having to wear it didn’t bother you, but you did miss the simplicity of your common style.

           At some point when you were wearing a low cut top and hugged Murphy you couldn’t help but notice how his eyes lingered on your chest as you dipped down. You hadn’t noticed it before, but his wandering stare only amplified every time you chose a plunging neckline over any other. It became incredibly fun for you to bend down to give your handsome boy a kiss, his cheeks glowed a cherry hue each time you did so. This newfound discovery felt like a superpower, and Murphy was beginning to grow more and more frustrated, watching as you so effortlessly turned him on day after day.

           Murphy was always a sweet and giving lover, but you wanted something more. You wanted him to absolutely lose control over you, but he remained composed no matter how many times you teased him. No matter how low or tight your shirts became he would stare but otherwise he went on about his day like normal.

           Nevertheless, when Murphy returned home one day, you went to give him a kiss as usual; the blouse of the day was low cut red silk. The color and fabric made you feel powerful, even if you were starting to question your effect on your favorite boy.

           You bent at the hip to kiss him and was about to pull away until you felt his strong fingers rake through your soft hair, making you gasp as his fingers tugged at your hair, holding you face close to his. Murphy’s soft gray eyes were dilated, his glare was so intense that you let out an involuntary whine. He hummed at your expression and smirked knowingly.

           “What little game do you think you’re playing, my sweet?”

           His words were loving like always but his tone was downright condescending as he licked his lips and once again ogled over your ample chest. The sweet boy that would always treat you so kindly was replaced by something stronger, something darker.

           You were about to answer him, but his hand trailed from your hair down to the base of your throat, he started to test the waters a bit as he gripped lightly. Murphy pulled you in by your neck, just ghosting his lips over yours.

           “Did you think I wouldn’t notice? I’ve been watching you all week, love,” he chuckled lowly which made your eyes roll back, his grip tightened a bit making it even hard for you to catch your breath. “You are stunning, my girl.”

           Even though your mind was buzzing at the words he was saying, you revealed to him a gentle smile at his compliment. He pulled you to him and kissed you deeply yet so slowly. This flip in him was everything you wanted from Murphy and from his smug expression, you could tell he was living for it.

           “But you already knew that,” his voice growled as his lips took the place of his hand, his teeth grazed at your neck which only made you even more desperate.

           “Murph-“

           “What do you want?” He groaned at the way your chest was heaving each and every time he nibbled on your collarbone. “Cause I won’t go any further until you tell me.”

           And like that he rolled back from you, almost making you tip due to your wobbly knees and racing heart. He looked so cocky, slouching in his chair with his head tilted to the side as he awaited your answer. Every second that passed where you tried to collect your thoughts was filled by his hungry eyes as they took in the sight of you.

           “I want you to touch me,” you admitted with a tiny smirk, looking bashful yet flirty. This was so new and exciting, you never wanted it to end. And it had barely even started.

           “Do you want me to make love to you?”

           His answer was met with silence as you took a moment to breathe, ultimately shaking your head no.

           “Interesting,” he began to nibble at his lower lip while staring at you admiringly.

           Your body grew warm under his gaze and while you loved the intensity of what was happening, you needed more of whatever he was willing to give you.

           “So what I’m hearing is you want to get fucked, yeah sweetheart?”

           Without hesitating you nodded your head, eyes glowing at his question. His words were unbearably nasty, each word and lustful look made it harder for you to stand. It made you feel dirty, but so incredibly empowered at the same time. Maybe it was because it was Murphy saying all of this that made you believe every word.

           “Okay, honey. I can do that. But don’t think you’re off the hook for teasing me all week. If you wanna get wrecked, we’re doing it my way. Understand?”

           Once again, you nodded enthusiastically, almost shaking at the boy’s crude warning.

           “Good. Now, I want you to be ready for me: go to our room, strip down entirely, and lay on the bed.”

           You all about ran to your bedroom, tearing off your clothes as quickly as possible. It wasn’t everyday where Murphy got so domineering. Shaky hands ripped at the debauched low cut top that started this whole game. Once every thread of fabric was on the floor, you lied down on the bed, trying your hardest to catch your breath. Your body felt like it was on ice as you shivered each time a gust of air passed over you.

           After a few minutes of waiting for your boy, he returned with a tempting smirk once he noticed your bare body wanting and ready. It made you groan, just seeing him creep up on you with nothing but pure lust in his eyes.

           “Good girl, baby,” he cooed as he rolled himself to the side of the bed closest to you. “But let’s not forget how badly you’ve behaved all week.”

           Murphy bent down to collect the discarded red blouse and he waved it in front of you, “I don’t want this to go to waste. Hands up, love.”

           You were surprised by his command, with a shaky breath you complied and brought your hand over your head, resting them on your pillow. Murphy then took your shirt and used the sleeves to tie your wrists together and then to the headboard. It wasn’t too tight, but tight enough for you not be able to escape. Your eyes widened when you gave an experimental tug, whining at thought of not being able to touch your strong boy. In this position your breasts were pushed higher, begging for the attention of your boyfriend.

           He looked so damn good, smugly staring down at your chest which made him wiggle in his chair. Air was harder to come by once he began placing gentle kisses to your cheek, grabbing at your jaw to hold you steady.

           “I want this to be good for you,” his harsh façade dropped for a second, his thumb rubbing at your bottom lip, “If at any time things get too intense, you’ll tell me, yes?”

           You nodded lazily at the beautiful blonde boy, but that wasn’t enough.

           “Use your words, darling,” he mocked lightly. “I need to hear you say it.”

           “Yes,” you gasped as his calloused hands began to trail down your throat, then down your collarbone, barely grazing your hot skin.

           “And you remember the stoplight system?”

           “Green means go, yellow means slow down, red means stop,” you gasped as he began to kiss at the side of your breast.

           “Good girl, my perfect little slut, huh?” A shiver spread throughout your whole body once his arrogant persona returned.

           It felt wrong to be entirely naked while he was still fully clothed, his light blue shirt was pulled taut around his strong shoulders. His hair was perfectly placed and if your hands weren’t bound to the headboard, you would surely be gripping his biceps or tugging at his blonde locks.

           “I’ll have you know, darling, that because of you, I have a newfound appreciation for some things that are muggle,” he chuckled as his teeth nipped beneath your breast, admiring the way your hands struggled against the binds. “The muggles really have some fascinating inventions that I had to get my hands on.”

           You had absolutely no idea what he was going on about, the only thing you could focus on was his dark gray eyes that bore into your own as he rubbed your hardened nipple with his nose. Before you could enjoy the small touches, he pulled his head away from you entirely.

           From behind his back, Murphy revealed to you a bright purple vibrator, which made you squeeze your legs together in order to get any bit of friction. This was not something you’d ever imagine your boyfriend picking up on his own and you moaned at the mere idea of what the strategist was planning for you.

           “Grabbed this bad boy when I went into town the other day,” he chuckled as he placed the toy down on the bed before lifting himself to lean beside you. Having him pressed against you was sinful, and you could do nothing to him. “I’ve been fantasizing about using this on you.”

           He grabbed the toy once again, turning it on and pressing it against your stomach. The vibrations were already so strong and your hips bucked at the feeling it brought. Murphy held himself up on an elbow, laying on his side as he watched your body’s reactions and chuckling every time you shook.

           “This whole week you’ve been parading around the flat, looking positively gorgeous,” Murphy groaned, dragging the toy further up your chest, resting it between your boobs. “I’ve wanted to rip off those goddamn shirts you’ve been wearing. You know how much I love your tits.”

           You whined loudly once he held the tip of the vibrator against one of your nipples while Murphy wrapped his perfect lips around the other and started to suck gently. Once again you pulled at the restrains, you would do anything to touch him and yet knowing he was in full control made your head spin.

           “Is this what you had in mind, my good little whore?”

           He laughed against your nipple at your relentless wiggling beside him, you looked exquisite with your chest turning red with his biting and sucking. Like a masterpiece.

           “Can you,” your breath hitched when he brought the vibrator down between your legs, just not where you needed it.

           “Can I what, sweetie?” Murphy started trailing the toy along your inner thighs, tortuously allowing you to feel the vibrations without being able to enjoy it as intended. A rather surprising bite to the underside of your breast caused you to scream out his name, which made your boy smirk cockily.

           “Please, baby, please take off your shirt,” you gasped as he started biting at the side of your neck, not caring if little bruises would be left behind for everyone to see.

           “Yeah? And why should I do that?” He taunted, “Do you think you deserve it after what you’ve been doing to me?”

           You didn’t deserve it, but god, did you want it. His body was gorgeous and it felt even better when you could grasp and scratch at his skin, unfortunately that wasn’t going to happen tonight. This was supposed to be your punishment, and after teasing him like you did, you knew you didn’t earn it.

           With a pout you shook your head sadly, crying out when he brought the vibrator back up to play with your nipples, “No, baby, I don’t deserve it.”

           He hummed approvingly at your answer and dipped down to nibble below your ear, “That’s right, sweetie. You don’t.”

           God you hated how badly he was teasing you, and yet you prayed that it wouldn’t end anytime soon. Seeing him so confident and in calculated made you crave him even more. It was like how he commanded the whole pitch when he announced a game, he spoke with such assurance and skill that it was impossible to not be charmed by him. That also meant that you couldn’t help how turned on you were becoming at his gruff tone.

           “But since you asked so sweetly, I think I’ll award you this one thing,” he sat up for a second, before smirking darkly at your needy body.

           Murphy took the vibrator and laid it between your legs, letting the head of it press up against your clit. You yelped loudly, arching your back at the sudden sensation after being denied for so long.

           “Fuck!” You moaned as you thrashed your head to the side, watching him as he slowly began undoing the buttons of his crisp shirt, his eyes never left yours. It was sensory overload, with him displaying more of his toned chest and strong biceps as the toy teased you mercilessly.

           “Like what you see, darling?” He asked as he pressed down on the vibrator once his shirt was off, reveling in the way you screamed out. Your moans sounded so frustrated and needy, which only spurred the boy on even more.

           “Yes, fuck,” you could hardly breathe with how impactful his small acts were on your body, crying out as he was now holding the vibrator in one hand as his other cradled your face.

           “God you’re such a pretty mess, aren’t you?” he mocked as he dragged his thumb across your bottom lip again, except this time you greedily took into your mouth and began to suck on it. It was the smallest act of defiance you could display given your position, and you felt alive once his eyes rolled back at your sucking lips. The move made him growl lowly at you, which felt like electricity against your skin.

           Before you could celebrate for long, he took the vibrator away from your clit, making you whine at the loss. Murphy loved when you got like this, so pretty and pouty as your hips tried to find the toy.

           “What is it, baby?” Murphy laid back down, his now naked chest pressed against your side as he held your wrists in one of his large hands. He smirked down at you, your skin was glowing and sticky, burning up from head to toe as he committed to teasing for as long as he wanted. “You have no idea how hard I am for you, honey. Seeing you so wrecked from this little toy is perfection.”

           He brought the toy back down to your clit, holding it there firmly, which made you cry out from the teasing. Murphy chuckled next to your ear, sending sparks down your body. You didn’t think it could get any better; that was until he started nibbling at the base of your neck as he rubbed the vibrator in tiny circles against you.

           The constant vibrations and biting was overwhelming, a tear had escaped your dazzling eyes; you hadn’t even noticed you started crying, but Murphy did. When he saw the mascara drip, he brought his attention back to you, wanting to check in for a moment.

           “Are you enjoying this, my love?” His eyes were heavy, drunk off the pleasure he was able to bring to your body. This was punishment, sure, but he needed to know that you were okay.

           “God, yes,” you began to chant breathlessly, which eased any concern in your dominant boy.

           “Good,” he grinned down at you cheekily, “cause, I think it’s about time you cum, yeah?”

           All you could do was nod, your hips were already bucking, trying to get as close to the torturous hum that the toy provided to you. It was a marvelous sight, seeing how Murphy’s muscles flexed with each ministration he made to the toy. You turned your head to press soft kisses to his hard chest, moaning against his skin as the vibrator kept bringing you closer to the edge.

           “That’s it, baby doll. Roll your hips for me,” he whispered in your ear, leaving no room for disobedience. “I wanna see my beautiful girl cum for me like the dirty little plaything she is.”

           It was too much. His words, the smell of his skin, and the rumble of the toy against you made your back arch, moaning desperately as you came with a cry. Your heart felt like it was going to pound out of your chest, it felt too good.

           But Murphy didn’t stop. He grinned confidently, finding the look on your face when you came the most beautiful sight in the world. And he made it his mission to see it again.

           “You didn’t think I was done with you did you?” Murphy tutted at you as you pulled against your binds. He placed one final kiss to your lips, enjoying the moans you let escape as he shuffled down the bed, resting between your legs as he removed the toy from your clit and began rubbing the wet toy along the insides of your thighs. “No, darling, I am going to worship this sweet pussy until you can’t take it anymore.”

           And he lived up to his promise, wrapping one of his strong arms under your thigh using that hand to hold the vibrator against you while the other hand rubbed up and down your wetness. His smile was beautifully wicked, elated in the way you couldn’t stay still even for a second.

           “Baby, your dripping for me. You might be enjoying this too much,” he groaned disapprovingly, once again removing the vibrator from you. But before you could protest, he dropped his head and nudged your clit with his tongue. He braced himself, lapping at your clit lick a starved man as he brought the toy up to your breasts, teasing one nipple at a time. “Wanna feel you squeeze my fingers, sweetie.”

           Your back arched almost painfully, his fingers now pumped into you, hooking and rubbing filthily as he sucked on your clit and played with your tits. Never before had you felt so taken care of, so wrecked by the hands of your love. The familiar feeling of another orgasm was quickly approaching and you couldn’t stop yourself from tensing your legs around Murphy’s head which made him growl into you, making you shudder. Chanting his name like a prayer was the only thing you could do, his name was all you could remember as he took his tongue off your clit to bring back the vibrator.

           “Shit you’re gonna cum again aren’t you? Dirty fucking angel, you are,” he smiled sweetly despite how brash his words were. “Let me see you cum again.”

           Looking down at him in between your thighs was a mistake. The boy was staring at the way your tits were bouncing from your bucking hips, which only made him crave your release that much more. It was sinful how gorgeous he looked as his fingers kept massaging you perfectly as he rubbed the toy expertly against your clit, continuously encouraging you to let go. You wished you could take a snapshot of this moment to relive at another time, but you couldn’t think about that for too long as you could feel yourself growing too sensitive.

           After a few more rubs at your clit and swears from your sweet boy’s lips, you grabbed at your restraints, and let go. Murphy found the image of your shaking and writhing body both the most delicious and dirty thing he had ever witnessed. He turned off the toy and began to massage your legs, helping relieve the tenseness there after how hard you had come.

           Focusing on anything but the regulation of your own breath proved to be hopeless. The way Murphy knew how to tease and tweak your body never failed to amaze you, and you had to will your body to calm down.

           Murphy began to shift up the bed, placing kisses to both sides of your hips before biting down on the soft flesh and then calming the bruising skin with baby kisses. He continued to pepper kisses up your stomach, between your breasts and to the muscle in your neck. Murphy hummed against your sticky skin, inhaling the scent of you as he turned your head to kiss his neglected lips.

           It was soft and languid, the way your kisses molding into each other. You couldn’t touch him, but you angled yourself so your aching chest pressed against his. Murphy held your body firmly against his own, loving how you instinctually hitched a leg over his hip and began to rock against him.

           “Damn, darling,” he choked as you started to grind over his trousers. “You truly are desperate aren’t you?”

           At this point, you should’ve been done; called it a night after getting off twice Your body was already tired and sore from his unbelievable teasing and yet you craved him more than ever. It didn’t matter how often you got off on his tongue or in this case a toy, you yearned for him to claim you.

           “Fuck me, Murphy,” you whimpered, getting lost in the friction of his pants against your naked body.

           His eyes widened at your demand, and within a second his soft kisses disappeared and instead he grabbed your chin firmly, enjoying the way your lips pouted the more he squeezed. “Oh, trust me,” Murphy growled against the column of your throat, “My plans always included pounding your pretty little pussy into the mattress, baby.”

           “Goddamn!” You whined, it was extraordinarily filthy the way he could effortlessly turn you on with his words alone. His body was an extra bonus, and you couldn’t help but marvel at it.

           Murphy released you from his grip and began to undo his belt, quickly chucking his clothes off. Your eyes fell to his strong thighs, the sharp v-line that led to your favorite sex toy. No manmade thing could ever compare to the way his cock could rip countless orgasms from you.

           Your staring didn’t go unnoticed, so Murphy gripped himself with his strong hand, slowly beginning to pump himself. The most desperate and almost jealous whine escaped you which made your boy chuckle against your throat.

           “I bet you wish you could be the one touching me right now. But unlucky for you, but fun for me, your just a bit too tied up.”

           His joke made your eyes roll, but the sound of his low groan only reminded you how badly you wanted to feel him again. Murphy’s body was an addiction.

           After a few more strokes, he brought your leg back over his hip, pulling his body flush against your own breathless one. He was so close and yet so far.

           “I think it’s time, my love. I need to fuck you. God, I’m gonna fuck you so good.”

           Without missing a beat, he positioned himself at you, just grazing your pussy which felt cruel. It wasn’t enough. Your desperation hit an all-time high, so you used your leg to push him further into you. The feeling of him was perfect and even Murphy couldn’t take his own teasing anymore. The game was over.

           With your hands still tied above you, Murphy grabbed at your back, making you arch your chest onto his wanting tongue. He nipped and bit and sucked on your breasts like a man starved while you rocked yourself against him. You adored how overwhelming his love was, it was in everything he did. But you didn’t want his love at the moment. You wanted Murphy to wreck you.

           “Please,” you whined as another tear escaped you.

           “Please?” his eyes darkened even more as he groaned against you. “Please what? Does my pretty little slut want more?”

           His charming smile was cut short by your harder grind which made his whip his head back. Given the opportunity, you latched your teeth into his skin, hoping your act of disobedience would get him to lose all inhibitions.

           “Fuck. Alright, my girl,” he chuckled, “If my baby wants to get fucked, then who am I to deny her?”

           One of the arms that was wrapped around your back now grabbed at your soft thigh, bringing your leg up higher, giving him the leverage he needed to fuck you the way you needed. His usual never ending dialogue halted as he placed all his attention to the rhythm of his thrusts, noting what made you scream his name. He didn’t stop for a second, his own need to get off battling with his want to tease you.

           It was dirty, quick, and rough, something that you didn’t know would be so earth shattering. But your quickly returning high was building back up, and it was almost unbearable how good he felt fucking you like he promised. It was so intense that you didn’t even notice Murphy untying you. Your arms just instinctually wrapped around his strong shoulders as they flexed after every thrust. He couldn’t use his legs to help bounce you on his cock, but his impressive upper body had no issue grabbing at your shoulders to drive you deeper into your high.

           Your eyes rolled back, whines dripping from your mouth which made Murphy smirk with pride. His hips were reckless, doing his best to hit that spot that made you beg and pout for him. You almost complained when he let go of your leg until he told you to hold it up yourself. Denying him was not an option, since your orgasm was so damn close.

           “Let’s get you there, my girl,” he moaned in your ear. Without warning, you screamed at the buzzing vibrator that once again returned to your overstimulated clit. The only thing you could do was run your fingers through Murphy’s hair to grip as he toyed with you so well.

           After a few more pumps, your back arched into him, shaking in pleasure as he chased his own high. He looked beautiful as he did it: his mouth was panting, searching for air as he continued to buck into you wildly. You were almost too achy for him, but you wanted nothing more than for him to get off.

           With a few more slaps of skin against skin, he came down whining with his lips around your abused nipple. Murphy was breathless, moaning against your chest as you raked your nails through his now ruined blonde hair.

           Both of you were left speechless which was more surprising considering your boy could talk for hours on end, spewing stats and percentages. But right now, you admired the way he nuzzled his face on your chest, using you as a pillow with a satisfied smile on his face. It was such a stark difference to the boy who taunted and mocked you earlier; he was now opting to hearing your calming heartbeat.

           “Was that good?” he sighed against you with a smile.

           A tiny giggle sounded from your sore throat, “Baby, that was unbelievably good.”

           “Perfect. And now we have a fun toy that we can bring out whenever, darling.”

           You hummed at his excitement, bringing your hand to cup his tired face, “You know, we can always pick up more if we need to.”

( @kc-needs-coffee I hope this lives up to your expectations wifey. Had a lot of fun with this one.)

[orginaldisneychild95]

Some Enchanted Evening (Pt 2)

It’s getting close to 7 o’ clock and Arista was just finishing up getting ready for her date with Stephen.. the loud strumming of her nerves and the gentle pound of her heart made it difficult to concentrate..

As she’s admiring her final touches in the mirror, she’s quietly hoping that Stephen’s eyes will be lost within her tonight.. that he can’t and won’t stop admiring and adoring her. She was well aware of the wonderful and indescribable effect she had on Stephen, but tonight that effect was going to be on display, and she was ecstatic to see how Stephen would play it out. A blush blossoms on her cheeks, a tremble courses through her body.. she’s ready.

Her beautiful raven locks, half up and half down.. romantic waves all throughout. A cream colored, shoulder strapped silk blouse, with a slight dip to her breast.. soft shape and curves over flowing lightly. Medium sized pearl buttons flow from directly under her chest, down to the center of her stomach, graces her body.. a subtle hug at the waist, emanating the look of a corset just not as tight. Her favorite golden yellow skirt, slightly below her knee, embraces her waist.. pale, metallic hibiscus flowers, in a soft lilac shade are embroidered all around. The flow of the skirt is airy, fluttering, like petals. The skirt is secure on her waist by a cream leather belt, thin sized, a silver classic buckle in the front. The topping of the package, Tan, strapped, medium wedged heels, iridescent stud earrings, light make up, powder, soft pearl eyeshadow, blush, and a rose pink lipstick, kissed with a soft gloss..

With one last look in the mirror, she smiles with approval.. walks towards her bed, grabbing her purse. As she puts her hand on the door knob, Stephen calls out to her in her mind.. “Are you almost ready, honey? I’m dying to see you” The soft baritone over lover sending subtle vibrations all over her... Arista opens the door and walks out into the hall, a playful smile on her face as she replies.. “Yes my dearest, more then ready. Where will you be so I can find you?” The enamored young woman is floating on a cloud, fighting to contain the excitement in voice.

Stephen chuckles softly, “Good, that’s what I was hoping to hear. I’ll be outside right by the gates.. Come and get me.” A smile in Stephen’s voice. Arista gasp with a giggle as he lets the connection go, this man was definitely going to be the death of her.

(***)

Arista finally nears the gate and comes to sudden stop, everything around her continued to flow... The sun setting outside, the sky grapefruit pink, the air a sultry blanket of gentle humidity kissing her skin. However, the weather isn’t what causes her to go into shock.. across the way, right in from of her is Stephen. The man she loves and adores, is looking the most phenomenal she’s ever seen him.. A soft blue button down shirt, sleeves rolled up at the elbow.. powerful chest and broad shoulders accentuated.. fair skin compliment beautifully. A black belt sits at his equally powerful abdomen, holding the casual/dress slacks in a shade of concrete gray, suede black dress shoes. Finally, a single watch on his wrist. 

Only another second past when Stephen notices Arista first, he smiles brightly.. Arista smiles right back, taking the last few steps to close the distance between them.. Arista’s heart beyond her restraint..

Stephen is taking her all in with his eyes, both her hands in his.. savoring the precious vision before him..

“My god, I’ve seen so many beautiful sights in my time.. but this moment surpasses that. You’re a dream, honey.. an absolute dream. I have feeling that’ll be hungry tonight... but food won’t be what satisfies me.” He touches his forehead to hers, a very heated gaze into her eyes.. Arista is almost breathless but can’t contain her soft but excited smile, her face growing hot... “I can very freely say the same about you, Doctor... I’ve never seen a more handsome, gorgeous man in my sights. What your plan to drive me wild with temptation?” Arista’s voice a soft whisper.. Stephen chuckles, rich and deep.. “Maybe, you’ll have to find out”. He takes one of her hands and kisses it softly, Arista’s eyes softly fluttering at the sensation of his lips.. 

“Let’s get going, I’m anxious to get this night started.” Stephen winks at her. 

“Take me where ever you wish, dearest Stephen” Her lip nibble and wink following after reply..

(***)

A short walk later... the beautiful couple is sitting across of each other at cozy table at a very old, but classic Italian bistro. Original structure, beautiful photo’s and art pieces on the walls. Frank Sinatra softly crooning in the background and the soft murmurs of other customers conversing amongst each other at their tables.

Stephen was in full control tonight, just to indulge in pleasing Arista.. he didn’t want her to lift a single finger, just savor, imbibe, and ultimately let the pleasure of being treasured as the woman she is course through her body.. and it all started with ordering their drinks.. an old fashioned for Stephen and light Moscato for Arista..

“So, we’re finally here... I have to admit that I was fearful it might not happen. Especially since Wong found out before I could tell him” Stephen has a sparkle in his eye as he reveals the truth, Arista shocked with a grin on her.. “Really?” She replies in disbelief “Master Wong already knew?... that’s incredible. However, I’m glad that we didn’t have to lie or pretend and the greatest vantage point to that freedom is that we’re both of age and wise adults” Arista says proudly, a light giggle in her voice. She takes another sip of her wine, the effect of the alcohol already softly swimming in her body..

Stephen mimics her movement with his drink, deciding to take the conversation in another direction.. “Well, guess what? Now that I have you, especially out of hiding I have absolutely no intention of letting you go. As a matter of fact, I have very special plans for us.. but, we need to be away from the karmataj” A devilish tone in his voice, not just as a fact but a promise.

“Mmm, hmm.. already planning on whisking me away, Stephen? laughing musically already knowing his answer. She decides to play with him.. Her eyes taking on a flirty gaze, she ask “May I ask what is you plan to do with me?” Her voice laced with sensuosity..

Stephen laughs quietly, loving her subtle boldness.. which always drove him wild about her.. He replies, his crystal blue gaze arresting her. “Oh baby, you know very well I can’t reveal all of my secrets. Besides, good things come to good girls who behave”... Stephen’s delicious baritone laced with mischief but promise..

“Oh my... well.. then if I’m in danger, I definitely don’t want to be rescued” Arista smiles a sexy, playful smile. Stephen smiles back, suddenly he slowly leans forward in his chair, his eyes not letting hers go, Arista follows his movements until both of them are a tad closer to each other.. the candle in the middle of the table glowing softly around their faces..

“Be very, very careful what you wish for, honey. You just might get it. Maybe.. tonight.” Arista’s eyes were already softly swirling, her mouth watering.. Stephen’s hot gaze consuming her entirely, the decadent affirmation of his words etching themselves in her soul.

(***)

Already almost done with their pasta dishes, Arista can’t remember the last time she had such a delicious meal.. and Stephen was the most exquisite dinner companion. They talked about everything, from what they both wanted and needed for each other and themselves, future plans after Arista completes her training.. which became a bittersweet topic because it meant that separation between the two of them word have to happen...

Finally, what they both wanted in terms of intimacy..

Stephen puts her at ease after their previous subject... “Arista, listen to me.. it doesn’t matter where we are after you leave. We’re going to be together no matter what, visits are an option and if want to come back to Karmartaj to see me, you absolutely can. Nothing will keep us apart, baby.. I promise”.

Arista gives herself to his declaration, believing every word. She sighs blissfully before replying, “Oh Stephen... you’re incredible. I love that you always keep the shadows of doubt at bay from my thoughts. Just so you know, I’m well aware we’ll be able to remain together. It’s just, the though of you not being near... I practically... ache all over” Her voice a breathy air. Stephen knew she was serious but could tell that her next words, were leading to a game..

Smirking, Stephen coaxes her to continue.. “Oh? and I can heal that ache? Is that what you want from me as a man? his voice taking a tone that causes the world around her to disappear..

Arista feels the sensual potion of lust and wine intertwine itself all though her.. “Yes my dearest, as a man.. my man. I want everything thing you could possible give me... goodness knows, I crave you endlessly. A thirst I don’t want to quench”...

Stephen shifts in his seat, welcoming the heated sensation coming to life in his body.. suddenly there’s a sizzle in the air between them an electric crackle... Stephen wishes he could grab her and have his wicked way with her right there, but.. he had another plan...

“Oh baby... as woman you’re not asking for much at all. However, as my woman... if you remember a while back a ago.. my goal is to leave you not just wanting more, but to also leave you endlessly satisfied. And trust me when I say that sitting across from you right now, with you looking the way you look, so sweet and ripe to bite.. I’m under torture” Stephen’s words are quietly breathless.

The next words out of Arista’s mouth are enough to take their evening to another level.. “Why wait, Doctor? .. Come take a bite.”

[badsext]

Hey could you do a fanfic for tourmaline but like an x reader one ?

Meet me at the Tetterby: Tourmaline x Fem! Reader (human)

Author’s note:  Thank you for the request, Anon.  I hope this fic is what you were looking for.  My other Tourmaline stuff has been wlw so I assumed that is what you wanted.  Let me know if I am wrong and I will write you another.

Summary:  Reader is a human who wanders into the Tetterby Hotel drunk.  Tourmaline takes her in and gently explains what kind of establishment she has wandered into.  After some coaxing reader explains that she came to the Tetterby on purpose.  She wanted to meet the beautiful fae she sees on the balcony every day.  

Warning:  Smut

——————————————-

It had been building inside you for months now.  It was like an itch that started small and now it consumed your entire body.  You went down to the pub in your most scandalous attire for some temporary relief at the bottom of a glass.  Life was difficult in the Burgue, especially for a woman like you - stubborn, independent and too smart for your own good. Intoxication gave you an excuse to indulge your inhibitions, but you weren’t as drunk as you let on.

You sat confidently on a stool at the bar looking like a modern woman in a tailored tweed cycling costume in spite of the weather and the absence of a bicycle. The men in the pub scoffed at your appearance or ignored you entirely, which suited you just fine.  The women looked at you with jealousy disguised as pity.   The barkeeper, a big mustachioed fellow, fooled by your wanton facade had cut you off.  There was nothing keeping you here, you thought, and progressed down the slushy gray streets alone.  It was just past sundown.  It was cold, but you were warmed by the wine and spirits still flowing through your bloodstream.  All the windows in the tenements and shops were dark and closed for the night.  That is, until you reached the coarsely named ‘Carnival Row.’  

You thought it was disgusting how humans treated fae.  As a member of the local chapter of fae rights activists, you had campaigned for Chancellor Breakspear and celebrated his win, but there was still so much work to be done.   Further down the block you began to see lamps in the windows and heard lively music from inside.  An invisible force pulled you towards the Tetterby Hotel.  You hesitated for a moment, but curiosity compelled you forward.  Inside you were greeted by a flurry of activity.  You heard clink of glasses, conversation, laughter, the shuffle of shoes, and the closing of doors. A piano was tinkling out a bawdy tune.  Here fairies could spread their gossamer wings in all their glory.  It was breathtaking.  Suddenly all the voices faded to a stop, followed by the music.  You were taking it all in when you realized that all eyes were on you.  

There were only two reasons for a human woman to visit the Tetterby. The first was an angry wife there to confront her philandering husband.  The second, a religious zealot, there to rid the place of ‘sinners.’  You, of course, were neither, but how were they to know?  

“I’m sorry, please carry on…really.  I’m not here to start trouble,” you insisted.  The noise resumed as the staff and patrons went back to their transactions.

The madam approached, sizing you up.  “If you’re looking for a job, the answer is no.  It’s fae only, sweetheart.”

“Oh, no, I -”

“She’s alright.  I’ve got her.”  You watched as your advocate descended the staircase.  She was stunning in burgundy and rose lingerie, a perfect compliment to her bronze completion and blue finger wave locks.  It was hard not to stare.  The madam threw up her hands and turned to more important matters.  

“You look lost…I’m Tourmaline.  What’s your name?”

You introduced yourself.  

“Do you know where you are, love?”

You nodded, grinning.

Tourmaline laughed. “Have you been drinking, Y/N?,” she asked gently.

“Yes.”  

“It’s been a slow night.  Would you like to come upstairs?  I can make you some tea,” she said, wrapping her arm around your shoulders.  You rested your head in the crook of her neck.  She smelled like heaven.

“Um hm,” you replied and she escorted you upstairs.

Her room was cozy, warm, and eclectic.  “Have a seat,” she said, putting the kettle on the fire.

You looked around and sat cautiously on the edge of the bed.  She sat down next to you and handed you a full cup and saucer.  You took a sip and smiled at the taste.  “It’s a fae blend of herbs. You like it?”  You looked deep into her eyes and nodded.

“You’re a funny girl,” she said looking back into your gaze and softly sweeping a stray hair away from your face.

You took a deep breath, put the teacup on the dresser.  “I…I have a confession to make.  I’ve seen you from your balcony.  I just wanted to meet you.”

“Is that so?”  She had put her feet up, lounging on her side, holding her head up with her hand. Her breasts had shifted in her camisole. You longed to see them fully exposed, to touch them.

“I think you’re beautiful…I’ve got money.  It’s just..for your time…we don’t have to -”

She kneeled playfully on the bed.  Her wings made their fist appearance of the night as she stretched them to the heavens, their iridescent hues accentuated by the firelight.  “Why don’t you take off those clothes and come over here,” she said, smoothing the duvet in front of her.  

Your heart beat out of rhythm and your breath became ragged.  This magnificent woman was so brazen yet so soft.  It was almost too much.   Your cheeks were aflame as you knelt to remove your boots.  When you looked up she was watching you with lust filled eyes.  Your confidence grew along with your arousal.  The buttons of your blouse seemed to open of their own accord and your skirt pooled carelessly on the ground.

You climbed onto the bed facing her, felt the heat radiating from her.  She cupped your face in her hands, kissing you slow and purposefully, igniting your deepest longing.  Your hands hands melted into the curve of her waist.  She removed your hair pin and watched with delight as your hair fell in waves on your shoulders.  A crooked little smile appeared as she eased you back onto the bed and began removing your stockings one by one.  It tickled when she kissed your foot arches.  You gasped when her hand rubbed softly between your legs, targeting your most sensitive skin through the thin linen. “Mmm, this is going to be fun,” she said, pulling your chamise over your head.  Each little exposed bud tightened instantly.  You wanted to be touched, but you needed to touch her, feel her body react.  She removed what was left of your underthings and was about to touch you there, but before she could…

You rose up and kissed her passionately.  She took a surprised breath.  You removed her robe and silk camisole then kissed her neck and shoulder.   Her divine sent permeated your senses.  You grazed her breast with a featherlight touch, then gently tugged on her nipple.  She ground her sex against yours.  You gripped the waistband of her drawers and slipped them down over her soft curves and all the way down her legs.  She spread them looking up at you, daring you.  You needed no coaxing.  Your fingers found their way to her wetness.  You stroked her gently at first.  Her head rolled back and she made a sweet little sigh.  Then you found your rhythm, skillfully rubbing her swollen nexus of nerves.  She twitched and hummed as she released then fell on top of you giggling.   Just the weight of her body and the suppleness of her skin against yours was so intensely gratifying, you wondered if this was all a dream.  

Tourmaline shocked you back to reality when she parted your legs and pressed her naked sex against yours, sliding around in delicate little circles.  The sensation of her wet swollen womanhood repeatedly making contact with yours and watching her slide up and down on top of you brought you to a quick and satisfying orgasm.  There was a devious look in her eye. She was only getting started.  She turned around and lowered herself onto your hungry waiting lips.  Her slick arousal tasted of honey and lavender.  

She leaned over to reciprocate, voraciously teasing and suckling your swollen sex.  It was and effort to staying focused, but you managed until she started beating her wings.  The vibrations coursed through your connected bodies, the euphoria making you scream curses into her void.  Once the room came back into focus, you noticed that you were hovering a short distance above the bed.  You quickened the pace of your tongue and moved your fingers inside her until she cried out with her release.  Her wings suddenly gave out and the two of you fell onto the bed with a thud.  You both laughed when you realized that the fire had been blown out and there were papers scattered about the floor.  

You huddled under the covers together for warmth.  “I’ll have to light the fire again,” she giggled.

“I’ve never felt anything like that before,” you confessed.

“It was glorious and I’m pretty jaded about this sort of thing,” she said. You felt like she was being sincere, but a small part of you still wondered.

There was a loud I nock at the door.  “You’ve been in there an hour with that girl.  I’ve got lads out here who want a go!”   It was the madam.  You scrambled to put your clothes back on.

Tourmaline threw on her robe, grabbed her purse and charged angrily to open the door.  “How much would I make for you on a night like this, five pounds?  Here’s seven!…Go on, take it and leave us alone for the rest of the night!”  The madam looked stunned, but she pocketed the cash and left without another word.  Your heart swelled as you witnessed the exchange.  

“I can’t believe you did that!,” you said sheepishly blushing.

“That’s one thing you should know about me.  I do what I want,” she smirked.

@dandycandy75 @transboyo14 @unlikelymoors @pighunter76 @marychovny @bi-satanist @i-dont-knoq @dopeybubbles @coleblackblood @discardmyfeelings @lillietheoneandonly @ancient-muse @joeythespookyraccoon @ofdazzlinghazes @bamfkurt @mckie113

[peacefulwriter88]

One That Got Away - Chapter 3

Steve Rogers x OFC Ariadne Bellamy

Chapter 3: Fool Me Once...

Universe: Marvel Canon

Rating: M for Mature (Language, Sexual tones eventual)

“You had what!?”

If one was listening really hard, beyond the sound of low chatter and laughter, the sound of glasses tinkling as they were refreshed with new beverages, they could hear the distinct voice of Nel Descarte before he took a sip out of his own glass of champagne, hand mid grab from the shrimp roll he was about to snatch from a waiters tray.

Nel was handsome in the kind of elite, New York gay art curator way one would suspect. His dark sage suit clung to his copper toned body perfectly, his sinewy frame built out in the fabric. His dark, lustrous hair was gelled back perfectly, his eyebrows trimmed and his hands manicured accentuated by the expensive watch on his wrist. It was Friday night and Sotheby’s Annual Newcomer Gallery had kicked off for the season and Nel, an art curator, had pressed that Ellie and I join him.

He was an old friend of ours, Nel. We had met at NYU our freshman year and the three of us had been as thick as thieves ever since. Ellie had jumped on the opportunity of attending despite her blasé attitude about art - I had been out most of the week and she was getting a bit stir crazy from being at home alone. Ellie, the natural homebody, had taken the opportunity to throw on a simple black sweater dress to compliment the natural curves of her plush body, matching heeled boots to set off the lock. Her wavy brown and gold hair sparkled in the light and like everything else Ellie did, her makeup was immaculate. She giggles into her own glass, her long eyelashes tickling her cheeks as her eyes jump between Nel and I.

“Steve Rogers, the actual Captain America, was making it all but apparent that he was into her and this one over here closed him down.”

Nel looks at me, again, shaking his head and tsking.

“You wasted all of that great potential on what? Principal? Lady love – you don’t allow fate to step in to just push it away.”

I shift my eyes to the portrait we had walked to before, tightening the red shawl that I had loosely thrown around my shoulders closer to me. It was in that moment I wished I had kept my blazer to cover the thin straps of my ivory blouse, to cover up the low v-line of the silk shirt but I had come over to meet the pair straight from work and didn’t want to look business professional. It was bad enough I was stuck with my pencil skirt. So I opted for the shawl that Ellie had brought with her and used it as coverage from my friends judging eyes.

In all reality, I didn’t want to think about Steve Rogers. The whole meeting had gotten underneath my skin more than I cared to acknowledge. The fact of the matter was, Steve was an interesting man. Beyond his obvious handsome features and kind eyes, he had an allure of mystery behind him, this inquisitive knowledge that I wanted to dive into and get to know more and I didn’t know why. Perhaps because of his boldness.

There was something about a man that knew what he wanted and went for it that always got under my skin. Especially if I was the object of that affection.

Which was why, hours later, I had been pissed to realize I let a good thing like that walk out of my life. Having Ellie, and now Nel, remind me of it wasn’t going to help my self-loathing.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I mumble underneath my breath, taking a long sip of champagne, keeping my eyes focused on the art piece in front of us.  

“You don’t want to talk about? Well tough titty honey,” Nel swipes two new glasses just as I’m throwing back the rest of the one I was sipping, exchanging my empty glass for a full one, “You can’t have someone as fine and respective as Steve Rogers hit on you and not expect me to pry.”

I chuckle underneath my breath, shaking my head as I turn to him

“Ellie said it all,” another sip. “Apparently Captain America was hitting on me and I froze up like a goddamn Popsicle.”

Nel watches me speculatively as we move on to a new painting. Its complete trash – literally – it's things that people have thrown away in trash cans glued onto a canvas and then painted over. Ellie squints at it, puckering her red lips before deciding to chug the rest of her champagne and look for another glass and I try to ignore the piercing gaze from Nel. Because I know exactly what he’s thinking.

I never freeze. Not when it comes to a man – an attractive man I am highly attracted to. I was the queen of being a heartbreaker. Not the other way around.

Not usually.

I couldn’t explain to him how it felt different looking into Steve’s baby blues. He had a quiet fierceness to them, a timely knowledge that I felt stripped me to my bare existence. There was more to him than a chiseled face and a need to save the world. More than that shy, golden boy charm that made others swoon. There was something else, I couldn’t put my finger on it and I didn’t like that I couldn’t.

He might actually be a fair match to me.

“You sure it wasn’t all those muscles on top of muscles that got you all tongue tied?” Nel finally asks, his eyes still unwavering and I scoff, looking over at him.

“What do we think of this piece?” I opt to redirect his attention but he doesn’t fall for it. Instead he looks over at it, mimics my earlier scoff, and then returns his attention to me.

“I tire of fake modern artist trying to re-invent modern art.”

“Why? Because it’s not an 18th century French scenic landscape?” I counter and he narrows his eyes at me, shaking his head.

“Don’t come at a champion when you’re still a trainee baby girl.”

“C’mon Ariadne, you know Nel got over that French phase the minute he stopped fucking French boys.” Ellie chimes in, reading the tension and trying to dispel it. I can’t help the laughter that escapes my lips as I wink and nod at her, ignoring the dramatic way Nel cover his heart as he looks between the both of us.

“Don’t make this about me. I’m still grieving Pierre.”

“It’s been three days.” Ellie says pointedly and I nod.

“Three long days….” I echo and he rolls his eyes.

“Don’t make this about me Ariadne. Don’t shift the subject because you were the one too afraid to give the Captain your digits.”

I sigh and move on to the next painting, ignoring the way Nel’s voice trails out after me though he doesn’t follow. He was right of course. So was Ellie. Maybe I was a bit mournful and thus dramatic that I had been a spaz but it didn’t matter. Things always moved in the universe with good reason. I was a year ripe out of my last relationship. Travelled a lot for work. Was trying to help plan my brother and his bride to be’s wedding. The last thing I thought I needed was to get involved with an international celebrity and defender of our planet.

I walk toward the bar, because even though the champagne’s expensive it’s not hitting the spot like I’d want it too. I needed something smooth and bitter…..grey goose vodka with a spritz of lemon and an olive for that extra bite. Ellie had spent the week teasing me about the love story that I could have had and more importantly, the love story she could have had with the Captain’s best friend. Not Sam she made a point to say, Sam was more Nel’s type whatever the fuck that meant. She was bitter I didn’t get closer to Steve to hook her up with Bucky.

Which anyone else might find selfish but I couldn’t hate her for. If the tables were turned, and I wasn’t a closed up clam, I’d probably be the same about Steve.

I’m so lost in thought though, placing my empty glass on the counter that I almost miss him.

He doesn’t miss me.

“Ariadne, right?”

Sam’s voice is smooth like the chocolate skin that covers his body, his irises just a few shades deeper. He has kind eyes, eyes that’s seen too much of the world but refuses to be let down by it. From the little I picked up at breakfast he was light hearted, funny, but knew how to pull out wisdom from humor and I could see why Steve and him were so close.

He was a good compliment to his fairer friend.

“Sam ‘the Falcon’ Wilson…..who would’ve guessed it.”

I lean in for a hug though I don’t know why – we weren’t longtime friends – but Sam doesn’t care and hugs me back earnestly.

“What are you getting?”

I smile as I lean into the bar,

“Extra dry slightly dirty martini.”

“Classy woman,” he signals for the waiter before returning his attention back to me. “What brings you out to such an elite event tonight? You don’t strike me as an art show kind of girl.”

I give a mock scoff though I can’t help the laugh that bubbles out, shaking my head and biting my lip.

“First, I’m a woman – not a girl,” the low oooee that escapes his mouth attracts a little attention as I turn, leaning against the bar and watching my friends who have already forgotten about me, “And secondly, just because I can easily write out the best predictions for next week’s football games – and will probably be 80% right – doesn’t mean I’m not also refined and enjoy on reflecting about nice pieces of art.”

I don’t mean to come off cocky but I knew the things I was good at in life and I hated when men in particular didn’t think I could balance like sports and….being a woman? I don’t know but it’s a trigger, Sam gives an interesting look my way before saying,

“My bad I meant no harm in it.”

We stare each other down, not wavering until Sam cracks a smile, causing the dam of laughter to escape from the both of us.

“I see, I see, you’re pushing your personal biases onto me. I get it. Getting judged as a black female sports writer isn’t what I experience every day of my life.”

“Of course I am. Isn’t that what the man teaches us to do, to deflect our insecurities onto others?” He grabs the bartender’s attention, again, waving them over and quickly ordering before returning his attention back to me.  

“I guess they do. Really though, what brings you here? Not to be rude but you don’t strike me as the artist and gallery hopping type.”

He chuckles underneath his breath, nodding before saying,

“Touché. Honestly a friend. I come to support the art and in return I get free drinks,” our drinks arrive just on cue and he careful hands me mine before grabbing his beer, “I have no idea what’s going on most of the time. Or what art I’m looking at.”

I nod as I take a sip, drink in his attire.

“Well you look superb. That’s half of the journey at places like this,” another chuckle out of him, “But to be fair this isn’t that kind of gallery. Occasionally Sotheby’s will host these amateur nights….opportunities for art curators to check out fresh new talent. See if it’s anything they’d be interested in. If so, both parties gain something, a new partnership and new art. If not, there’s always next month.”

Sam eyes glint with something akin to understanding,  that flicker when things start to come together as his mouth shapes into an O.

“Oooooo that makes sooo much sense. I’ve been wondering why I get dragged to these things so often.”

He takes a sip out of his beer, furrowing his eyebrows,

“So you might know a thing or two about art?”

I give a nonchalant shrug, grabbing my drink.

“Maybe a thing or two.”

He nods his head, raising his brows as he looks over at me,

“So… you mind teaching me a thing or two? It would be nice to impress my friend for once; he thinks I never pay attention to these things.”

“Because you don’t.” I counter and he laughs.

“C’mon. I’m trying to pay attention now.”

I give a deep sigh, looking back over at Ellie and Nel who were looking at another painting, un-phased by my disappearing act.

“Why not. I’m a bit over my friends as it is for the moment.”

He offers his arm and smiles at me,

“Perfect.”

Sam Wilson was probably one of the funniest people I have met in a long time.  While I tried to talk him through technique, stroke styles (that phrase I regretted every time it escaped my mouth) and influence he made light of the subject matter, always asking what I would be willing to pay for it. Despite his banter, he was also picking up on some things, and it’s through my second martini that he moves beyond pricing points and more about the themes of the paintings. His interests grow more and more so that by the time we make it to the last painting in the section we are in, we both do so in agreed silence, trying to read the piece.

It’s a painting of a couple leaning into each other, backs to the audience in a tight embrace. They are looking out into the city – a Central Park Manhattan view, with the landscape of skyscrapers evolving through time. Some older, dirtier, industrial influenced carried until a modern time, airplanes flying in the sky and the clean gleam of skyscrapers with current, modern businesses embroidered into the buildings. I can’t see the couples faces but there’s something about it, something that makes me feel…

“Melancholic.” The words pepper out of me as I walk forward to it, drinking in the strokes of the drawing, the careful way each line has been crafted, oil spread. It’s a large painting, about the width of your standard bookcase almost the height of a door but the size just helps lends to the effect of the scene. Dark, gritty with the precipice of hope at its helm. I tell as much to Sam and he nods slowly, his dark eyes looking at me curiously as he asks,  

“What else?”

“It makes me sad initially but also hopeful. That there’s greatness in the things that are lost in time and the couple willing to be embraced by it  and it makes me wonder what they think. Why are they stuck in time, unchanging, unmoved, forced to watch time change and unable to change with it. The only security is not being alone….it’s beautiful. Really. A really talented artist must have invested a lot of time into it.”

“Oh he did…”

Sam chuckles as I snap my head to him and ask,

“You know who drew this?”

“Yea of course I do. It’s my buddy who keeps entering these things….”

I raise an eyebrow, moving back to look at him.

“He’s entered pieces like this and no one hasn’t asked him to create more….this is top of the line. Far better than a lot of the things here that are just asking and begging to be selected, to scream that they are not alone, to show that they are original. You telling me that he’s rejected big shot names just to continue to submit paintings?”

Sam laughs, taking a long sip of his beer.

“Yeah.”

I watch him, before returning my eyes back at the drawing. Trying to understand the artist by trying to understand the art. The way the hand of the man clutches the woman, almost squeezing her as it appears her hand falls lightly on his. The way she leans into him gently and I can imagine her calming him, assuring him it’s okay. Women adapted a lot better than men, they must, they carry life and it’s the only way to guarantee that life will move on. It’s all here, in this frame, fear and uncertainty and insecurity that is hidden behind confidence, ease.

“Your friend must want to be heard. To share what he’s unable to say then. Not a starving artist by choice, but a selective artist because he wants to breath truth. But for who…it’s hard to say.”

Sam leans in a bit.

“What do you mean?” he’s looking at the painting again, deeply like me and I take another sip.

“I can’t tell if the artist is trying to unveil some truth about human experience for other humans, or trying to unpack their experiences, trying to grapple with what were all trying to understand I’m being human. I don’t know…seems complicated this piece. Is the artist complicated?”

“Like a goddamn rubix cube,” Sam mutters but now his eyes are drinking it in. “I just thought it was about the loss of things.”

“Sure it’s about loss. But there’s something deeper. There’s not sorrow over this loss or change. There’s fear and maybe a sprinkle of sadness but not sorrow. There’s an understanding that things flow differently – they change and you can’t fight it. And the artist is trying to understand what that means for the world. What it means for them. Its complex…..it makes you question things. It’s making me question things. Which is why it’s melancholic. But what do I know…I just get trashed helping my friend select painting I think would be good for his gallery.”

I shrug as I take another sip stepping backwards. So focused on the painting that I hadn’t realized that someone has walked up behind me, until my backs pressed into their chest and I lean my head back, resting my head against the defined muscles as my eyes fall into ocean blue orbs.

Oh.

Steve Rogers was dangerous in his star spangled uniform. Was even more achingly attractive in street clothes.

Nothing could have warned me for this man in a suit.

It’s not even a full suit, nice pressed pants. A nice, crisp dark blue shirt that did wonders for his eyes. A simple black tie.

It’s enough to make my breath hitch, to cause me to squeeze my thighs together so I’m not unloading a gallon of my attraction onto the gallery floor. I’m flustered as he captures me easily, steadying me and the arm that holds my martini as his other hand finds my hip. The vodka is strong, it allows his cologne to overwhelm my senses and to allow myself to relax under his touch, to fall back onto him with ease as my eyes drink in his chiseled jawline and his pulse point from beating against his neck. I wanted to mark him, to claim him for my own and the thought jostles me.

“Oh! I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to….”

I’m at a loss for words, again, as I blink up at him stupidly but he simply smiles back at me gently, eyes unwavering as his hand that isn’t on my hips slowly trails up my arm, causing goosebumps in its wake.

Shit. Too much vodka. I had too much fucking vodka and champagne in my system for this kind of intimate touch.

“Don’t worry about it. Not every day I get to run into a beautiful woman twice in one week.”

His voice is low and light, humorous and gravely and I bite my lip subconsciously, causing his eyes to flicker down to it before they are returning to my own.

I’m sure I had fuck me eyes all over my face and the realization makes me blush, embarrassed out of my goddamn mind. Drunk flirting with Steve Rogers wasn’t going to make my self-pity cause any better.

“I’m really not this high maintenance. I was just admiring this.” my eyes flash back toward the painting.

He smiles, his eyes breaking from mine and looking over at the painting and nods.

“I heard.”

“Y…you did?” I force myself to push my forehead off his chest, from the confines of his arms. Away from him and though I still feel like I’m swimming I’m able to steady my mind, trying to push the smell of his cologne from my memory and clear my throat.

“Super soldier hearing.” Sam says, rolling his eyes though he smiles at me and I narrow my eyes at him. He knew. He fucking knew the whole damn time that Steve was lurking.

This was a goddamn set up.

“You have an artist eye. You sure you aren’t a curator. Or a secret artist?”

Steve is still too close to me, his arms brushing against my own and I shrug, shaking my head.

“No, no, not even if I tried. But I have this good friend of mine, and he works for the Met and he really knows his shit and you know he’s taught me a thing or two.”

“Just a thing or two?” he raises a speculative eye before another deeper voice booms across the space.

“Steve! Sam! There you are.”

The man that strolls over is tall, about as tall as Steve and Sam. In this space, with its suits and nice dresses, he stands out with the dark Henley he’s rolled up to his elbows, dark jeans to match. His hair is longer than Steve’s, brushing against his neckline and his beard is in a scruff, cool blue eyes dancing between our group. I would be lying if i didn’t say that James “Bucky” Barnes wasn’t attractive. He was the kind of charming bad boy that i wanted to get under your skin for a few months and then let each other loose for both your sanity.

I could see easily why Ellie was attracted to him.

“Well, well, well, who do we have here?” his voice is huskier than Steve’s, smoother and has a twist of charming wickedness as he smiles down at me. It makes my heart palpitate for a few seconds, makes my breath hitch a second.

This man would destroy Ellie.

….I needed their pairing to happen.

“Steve, you didn’t tell me you were going to leave to go flirt with some cute dame.”

“Oh brother.” Sam snorts, finishing his beer and rolling his eyes as I extend my hand out,

“You must be the famous Winter Soldier.”

He flinches from the words, but doesn’t skip a beat to grab my hand, his lips skimming against the sensitive flesh as a smile stays on his face,  

“Must be. And who are you?”

I take a sip out of my martini, finishing the last drip as I pull my hand away,

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

He raises an eyebrow, looking over at Steve who is watching curiously.

“She’s a fireball.” He says, amused and Steve nods in agreement,

“She’s something.”

“And she’s also still standing in front of you. Now you’re boring me and I’m out of a drink. So maybe work on that game of yours while I go and get another.”

I walk away, aware that they are both staring at me, trying my best to keep up my most confident stride despite the alcohol swimming in my body.

How did I go from no prospects in my morning to three handsome men in the evening?

The universe had a funny way with playing with my heart.

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