#tumblr you are so seductive goodnight

[zacharybosch]

Tasseomancy - chapter 8

🍽dinner is served, eat up 🍽

chapter 1: tumblr / ao3

chapter 2: tumblr / ao3

chapter 3: tumblr / ao3

chapter 4: tumblr / ao3

chapter 5: tumblr / ao3

chapter 6: tumblr / ao3

chapter 7: tumblr / ao3

read chapter 8 below or on ao3!

Kind stranger. New friend. Close confidant. Lover. Edward.

Late on Saturday night, long after Ed had touched him and kissed him and then left with a beatific smile lighting up his lovely face, Stede lay in bed, staring wide-eyed at the dark ceiling and feeling like a perfect fool. It was all so obvious now that he allowed himself to think about it, now that it felt safe to think about it. How could he have been so completely blind?

Ed had— god, he’d held onto Stede’s wrist, in the department store changing room. He’d kept Stede’s hand there, cupping his cheek. Said he was happy. Weeks ago! Weeks and weeks! Ed must have the patience of a goddamn saint. Why hadn’t Stede apologised more earlier, when Ed was still here, for being so clueless? So much potential kissing they’d missed out on because of Stede’s inability to see what was right in front of his face.

Stede pulled his phone off the bedside table and curled onto his side, facing towards the windows. The curtains were parted a little, and a shaft of yellow light from the streetlamps outside cut across his face and chest, and painted golden rims over the dark pools of his cashmere blanket. It was the middle of the night, and the world was utterly silent, save for the soft whisper of the ocean in the distance and the gentle tap of Stede’s fingers against the glowing screen of his phone.

He pulled up his and Ed’s message thread and carefully typed out I’m sorry for being so silly. Their last texts had been goodnight messages from the night before, littered with moon and star and heart emojis. Staggeringly obvious in hindsight.

Ed’s reply came back very quickly.

don’t be, i like your silliness

I wish I hadn’t wasted so much of our time together :(

it wasn’t wasted it’s been the most fun i’ve had in ages years i’d do it all again

I still feel like an idiot though…

ok but at least you’re my idiot now

:) I didn’t think you’d text back this quickly, why are you up so late?

why are YOU up late clearly i’m not the only one at the devil’s sacrament

The familiar urge to deflect reared its ugly head, but Stede pushed it aside. He was allowed to be open with Ed. He wanted to be open.

I was thinking about you, couldn’t sleep.

same tbh you’re a really good kisser

Stede had never been complimented on his kissing skills before. He didn’t even know he had any, not until Ed’s lips had slotted against his and some new part of his brain had suddenly lit up like a christmas tree and his body just moved on instinct. Turned out that kissing was the easiest thing in the world when it was with someone you wanted to kiss, someone who wanted to kiss you.

The three little typing dots on Ed’s side of the screen had been appearing and disappearing and reappearing again for the past minute or so. Eventually, he added:

nice and soft and eager

Stede squirmed beneath his blankets, pressing his legs together and biting his lip. His body did that shivery, clenching thing again, just like it had when Ed had offered a helping hand over the phone.

Is this part of the seduction?

this is the preamble so you were thinking about me huh what were you thinking exactly

The changing room in the department store, when I held your face and you stopped me from pulling away.

you wanted to kiss me then didn’t you

I think so. Yes. I did. I don’t think I quite realised it, but I wanted to very much.

what do you think would’ve happened if you had kissed me

I think Lucius would’ve still come and interrupted us.

OK PRETEND LUCIUS WAS NOT THERE

Right. Of course. This was flirty texting. They better start making a habit of doing this, because Stede really needed to get some practice in.

Sorry :’) I think if I had kissed you, you would’ve kissed me back. I think you would’ve held my face like I held yours. I think it would’ve been a soft kiss, a slow one.

that sounds nice

Stede could see it in his mind’s eye, like he was looking through a peep-hole; a little blurry and distorted round the edges but clear and sharp in the centre where they were exchanging gentle, easy kisses, murmuring against each other’s lips, smiling at the sensation of wandering hands.

My hands would wander, I think. I was so curious about your tattoos that day. I’d want to see more of them. Maybe things wouldn’t remain so soft or slow.

gonna get me naked?

His tender, sensual mental image warped and shifted and then suddenly there was nothing gentle about it: he was pressing Ed up against the wall, dragging his overalls and his underwear off, grinding up against him, threading one hand tight into Ed’s hair as the other fumbled inelegantly with the button and zip fly of his own trousers. Legs squeezing around his waist, worn leather of Ed’s boots sticking to the bare skin of Stede’s backside, silky t-shirt slipping down over a shoulder. Sucking a bruising kiss against the revealed skin.

Not completely naked. Boots stay on. Crop top stays on.

oh it’s like THAT is it i know what you wanna do, you wanna take me up against the wall or smth manhandle me, kiss me hard, make a mess

Exactly. Clinging to me, your legs wrapped round my waist.

do you wanna know what i’m doing right now

Yes please yes

i’m saying goodnight ;) big kissies xxxxxxxxxxx

Stede stared blankly at his phone for several minutes, heart racing and head spinning and body distractingly, achingly roused. If this was only the preamble to being seduced, he wasn’t entirely sure that he’d survive the main event.

***

The seduction began, formally, on Monday morning.

Ed surprised Stede at the Cleanery with a large cup of tea and a fruity danish pastry from Jackie’s. He had the purple tote bag slung over one shoulder, and Stede’s silk scarf dangling out of the back pocket of his trousers.

“Edward, how lovely to see you,” Stede said, getting up from his sewing machine and trying very hard not to give away that his brain was stuck on an endless replay of Ed pulling that scarf from around Stede’s neck when they’d been desperately making out two days prior. “Dropping off some more stuff to be cleaned? I hope you’ve not had any more mishaps with your moisturiser!”

“Nah, nothing that needs cleaning today. I have got this extra tea and pastry though, and I was looking for someone to give ‘em too, maybe like a sexy blonde seamstress or someone… Know anyone like that around here?”

“Oh, I might.” Stede batted his eyelashes, which was something he had never done before in his life and wasn’t entirely sure he’d managed to do completely successfully now; but it seemed to have the desired effect, and Ed leaned in to kiss him on the cheek.

“For you,” he said, putting the tea and pastry down onto Stede’s work table with a little flourish. “What are you doing Friday night?”

“Well, I’ve not got anything planned…”

“You have now. You’re coming over to my place. I’m gonna cook for you.”

Stede’s eyes lit up in delight. “Really? Oh, how exciting. Should I bring anything, a dessert maybe?”

“Just bring yourself, I’ve got dessert all figured out already,” Ed said, snaking his hands over Stede’s hips and giving him a very firm squeeze on the rear. He nuzzled into Stede’s neck, and gave a gentle little tug on the silk scarf he had tied there. “Been wearing these a lot, haven’t you? I’m glad I bought you so many. Looks good.”

Stede flushed. He wore one of the silk scarves practically every day, always wanting to have some little token of Ed with him. “I like having a piece of you wrapped around me.”

“I can think of some other pieces of me that you can have wrapped around you if you want—”

“Get a room you two, Jesus,” John piped up from behind the counter. He had been sitting there the entire time.

“I’m planning on it mate, trust me,” Ed replied off-handedly, before grabbing at Stede’s hand and pulling him behind the counter and into the back of the shop. “Is there a private spot or something back here? Just wanna have a little chat real quick.”

The back room was just one big open space with no privacy to be had in any corner of it, but it did contain several supply cupboards of varying sizes and clutter levels. “Oh, um, well the broom cupboard on the left there is fairly empty, that door with the— oof!” Stede yelped as Ed pulled the door open and shoved him inside the cramped little space, then squeezed in after him. They were pressed close, chest to thigh, and Ed’s hands were already roaming. “I thought, wow, thought you were holding off? Oh, god. Doing things, um, slowly?”

“I am. But don’t forget that this is a seduction, Stede, and if I’m going to seduce you successfully,” Ed murmured, ghosting his lips at the corner of Stede’s jaw, “then I’m going to need to touch you a little bit as well.”

Stede already felt more seduced than he ever had in his entire fucking life. Ed was so warm and he smelled so good, and his voice was a deep rumbling purr that vibrated right through Stede’s skin.

“So,” Ed said, rubbing his hands slowly over the front of Stede’s shirt and innocently slipping a few buttons out of their holes, “do you have any allergies?”

“Wh— what…?”

“Allergies. Intolerances. Dietary requirements. For dinner on Friday.”

“Oh, I… I uh, I…” Ed was stroking feather-light circles over Stede’s nipples and looking very intently into his eyes. And that was okay, Stede could handle that. He could absolutely handle the fact that Ed was stroking his nipples and staring at him like he wanted to eat him and Stede was going to expire right there in the broom cupboard.

“Focus babe, this is an important discussion.”

“Um. Sensitive… sensitive to dairy, sometimes, I… Fuck, Ed—”

“Dairy, right, noted. And is there anything that you just don’t like? That goes for food and,” Ed rolled his hips just the barest amount, and brought his face a scant inch away from Stede’s, “anything else you might want me to know about.”

Stede had to very forcefully remind himself that he’d asked for this. He could’ve let Ed stay on his knees and give him what would’ve no doubt been an absolutely mind-melting blowjob, and then spent the rest of the weekend together kissing and rubbing and sucking and fucking, but no, he’d asked for this instead and now Ed was thoroughly and relentlessly giving it to him.

“I hate mushrooms. But I think… I think I’m open to trying anything else that you wanted to offer me.” The urge to close that final space between them and just sink into Ed, into his arms and the heat of his mouth, was overwhelming. “Food or otherwise.”

“That is,” Ed withdrew his hands from inside Stede’s shirt as he spoke, “very good,” carefully re-fastened the buttons that he’d opened, “to know,” he finished, straightening Stede’s collar and letting his hands linger for a moment at his neck. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Ed breezed out of the broom cupboard and out of the shop, light and carefree as anything. Stede remained in the cupboard, thrilled and embarrassed and desperately horny, urgently willing his erection to go the fuck away.

On Tuesday, they took an evening stroll along the beachfront after Stede got off work. There was a beautiful peach and purple sunset, and the sea was restless, golden and choppy. Seagulls called wildly as they were buffeted about by the brisk and chilly wind, and Stede and Ed walked arm-in-arm along the promenade, pressed together tightly against the cold. There was an old bandstand halfway along the promenade, worked in wrought iron filigree and painted cheerfully in chipping whites and greens, and it loomed ahead of them, silhouetted against the sun.

“You know, I wanted to kiss you that evening on the beach,” Ed said, as they came up to the bandstand and stopped to admire the view. “When we had the muffins, and you said you’d burn down the department store for me.”

The second time they met, Stede’s cautiously-proposed date-that-he-only-realised-now-was-a-date. It had been a perfect evening: the smell of the rain, and Ed’s leather jacket; eating soggy pastries in a shop doorway; the straggly, wet ends of Ed’s hair; the feeling of being at home. If Ed had kissed him then, Stede would’ve surrendered like a wave to the shore. “Why didn’t you?” Stede asked, and then, with a breath and a bite of his lip, “You could kiss me now.”

“You’re right, I could,” Ed replied, pulling Stede into the relative shelter of the bandstand and pressing him against one of the pillars. “Are you seduced already, then?” He hovered his mouth over Stede’s, hot breath mingling in the cold air, a smile playing about his lips. “Time to seal the deal with a kiss?”

“I…” Stede hesitated. A moment ago he had been so desperate for Ed to kiss him, but now that he was faced with the prospect of it actually happening, it felt wrong. Too soon. As maddening as it was to have Ed so closely within reach and not take that final step, he wasn’t ready for this part to be over yet. “I kind of like not kissing you. Am I mad for saying that? The anticipation—”

“Drives you fucking crazy, doesn’t it? But it feels good, too. Wanting, and not getting.”

“It makes it so potent, every time you touch me. You look at me and I can almost taste you.”

Ed was painted gold in the sunset light, warm and soft and so achingly beautiful as he cupped Stede’s face in his hands and smiled. “You can taste me on Friday,” he whispered, full of promise.

On Wednesday, Ed made another morning tea delivery to the Cleanery. This time it was a sencha green tea that had been blended with little fruit pieces and flower petals, which proved to be a light and refreshing antidote to the dreary morning’s work. He didn’t linger, just dropped the drink off with a smile and kiss on the cheek and a promise of more later, but as Stede sewed and ironed and folded he sipped the tea and felt as though Ed was there with him.

At lunchtime, Ed returned with two carefully-packed sandwich bags and a thermos, which contained an usual concoction of red tea and cocoa and peppermint and tasted like a warm and creamy hug. He’d brewed the tea and made the sandwiches himself at home, and laid them out proudly on the battered little coffee table in the backroom of the Cleanery. They ate cuddled together on the ancient, creaking sofa, heads together, knees pressed close, talking softly about small things.

Ed was back again with another cup of tea at the end of the day, waiting patiently at the door as the Cleanery was closed up for the evening. It was a classic Earl Grey that had been blended with lavender for a soothing, relaxing aroma, and Stede sipped it gratefully, feeling all the little stresses of the day melt away in the steam.

Ed walked Stede home, his warm hand in Stede’s cold one, and on the doorstep to Stede’s building Ed stopped and pulled him into a close embrace, and placed a soft, lingering kiss against his cheek. As he started to pull back, Stede clenched his fingers into the lapels of Ed’s jacket and held him close, nuzzling noses. He thought of what he’d said yesterday, in the bandstand, about anticipation and potency. Having steeped all day in the heady waters of Ed’s tender care and affection, his resolve was not as strong now as it had been the day before.

Stede licked his lips and opened his mouth and made a plaintive noise in the back of his throat. “I want…” he whispered, pulling tighter against Ed’s jacket.

“I know,” Ed whispered back, unfurling Stede’s fingers one by one, and placing a kiss against them when he was done. “Friday.”

On Thursday, a string of messages popped up on Stede’s phone throughout his work day. They were mostly selfies from Ed while he was running errands and doing chores at home, interspersed with some random nonsense thoughts and wildly chaotic strings of emojis. It was all very sweet and innocent at first, but as the day wore on and the chores got boring, the selfies and the thoughts and the emojis all started turning towards one very specific direction.

At the third photo of Ed looking up into the camera with his big doe eyes and a finger in his mouth, Stede had to remove himself to the staff toilet in order to try and calm down.

If he really wanted to calm down though, he wouldn’t have brought his phone with him. He was already nursing a semi, and as he sat down on the lowered toilet seat, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and began to scroll back and forth through some of the more tantalising photos.

A few shots of Ed in the mirror, posing in various outfits, hip cocked and arm stretched up above his head; some close-ups, hair tucked behind his ear, showing off a little dangly earring and also coincidentally the long line of his neck; and then some lying on a sofa, hair splayed in waves, Stede’s pink bird shirt unbuttoned and open around his shoulders, hand slung tantalisingly low in the waistband of some cashmere joggers.

Stede started to wonder what it might be like, if he was there in the photos as well. Standing behind Ed while he posed in front of the mirror, hands snaking around his waist, nuzzling into his hair. Running his fingers along the line of Ed’s neck as he showed off his earring, placing teasing little kisses in that soft space under the earlobe. Climbing onto the sofa and straddling Ed’s thighs, pulling his waistband down all the way, exposing him to Stede’s hungry touch.

It was enough to take Stede from semi-hard to completely, achingly hard. He absolutely could not jerk off at work, no way, but maybe he could just send Ed a little something back, something to show that his photos were very much appreciated?

Stede leaned back against the cistern, cupped his hand around the very obvious outline of his dick showing through his trousers, and snapped a photo. Was this good? Was this sexy? He was pretty sure that it was. Ed had seemed to be very taken with the outline of his dick last Saturday, after all.

He sent the picture off before he could second-guess himself, and although it was immediately marked as seen, it took a couple of minutes before Ed’s response came back.

Another photo. It was cropped close, just the top half of Ed’s torso and arms, the smooth column of his neck, the plush curve of his open mouth. One hand was draped over his chest, fingers resting in the slight dip of his sternum, and there was— he had—

Ed’s chest was wet. It wasn’t water. It was something thicker, stickier, white, and Stede was suddenly very light-headed. He sternly told himself again that jerking off at work was absolutely out of the question.

With sweaty, shaking fingers, he typed out, Thank you very much that’s very nice I am going to appreciate this properly later when I am not at work.

He slumped back and rubbed a hand over his face, as Ed sent a string of laughing emojis in reply. He’d never been so deliciously, painfully horny in his life. God, he wanted to fuck Ed so fucking bad.

Friday, Ed had said. Friday. One more day.

***

On Friday, nerves having bubbled up all day towards boiling point, Stede spent an inordinately long time picking his outfit. There was no question over whether he should wear a suit or not; a suit was his go-to and he was deathly allergic to wearing jeans, but should it be formal? Casual? Patterned? Plain? Classic cut, or something a little more jazzy? Deep down, he knew that Ed would like whatever he wore, but fussing over suit options gave Stede something to focus on that wasn’t his screaming nerves, and by the time he eventually arrived at a decision he was feeling considerably less frazzled.

He was going to wear his pistachio-coloured suit. It was a perfectly proportioned classic style, made up in a light and fluid wool fabric with an elegant shawl collar and a fun little triangular flap on the breast pocket for a little whimsy. The clean lines and exquisite fit made it timeless and refined, while the light, airy colour and tortoiseshell buttons kept it casual. He paired it with a pale lavender t-shirt in a fine linen jersey, and another of Ed’s silk scarves knotted loosely about his neck.

Yes, he was definitely onto a winner with this one. It wasn’t a suit that he got much wear out of in his old life, but on the few occasions he had taken it out for a spin he’d felt terribly chic — at least, until someone had given him an odd look and he’d started to doubt all his choices and put the suit at the back of his wardrobe until he worked up the courage to wear it again. Putting the suit on didn’t take any courage this time; it went on easy as anything, and Stede looked at himself in the mirror and felt good about what he saw. And to top it all off, it looked very striking against the bouquet of flowers he’d bought earlier, ready to present to Ed at his doorstep.

Ed lived in one of the early-to-mid-1800s terraces near the seafront, a very desirable location and one that Stede became increasingly more jealous of as he walked down the tree-lined street. The front of his house was elegantly curved, with tall sash windows and a little cast iron balcony on the first floor, and the door was painted a very fetching midnight blue.

Stede smoothed a calming hand over his hair and rolled his shoulders to dislodge any lingering tension, held the bouquet of flowers behind his back, and knocked.

Ed opened the door, and the greeting that Stede had been carefully practising in his head stuttered and died on the tip of his tongue. Ed was wearing black jeans, which was fine, and an apron, which was also fine; but he didn’t have a top on underneath the apron, and also his hair was all tied up in a high ponytail with Stede’s silk fucking scarf, which showed off the lovely shape of his neck and reminded Stede once again just why Ed had his scarf in the first place and oh dear, Stede really should stop gawking and get inside before he fainted.

“Welcome to Ed Teach’s Bar and Grill. There’s no bar, or grill, but you are allowed to grope the staff,” Ed said with a little giggle and a wink. “Come on in— oh, are those for me?”

Stede had regained enough of his senses to bring his hand out from behind his back and thrust the bunch of flowers at Ed. Yellow lilies, pink camellias, a few stems of blue salvia, and a little spray of edelweiss; it had wiped out most of the money in Stede’s bank account, but eating only tinned beans and old bread until payday was a small price to pay for the look on Ed’s face.

“No-one’s ever bought me flowers before,” he said, a little dumbfounded. “I— fuck, I don’t think I even own a vase.”

“I’m sure we can find something inside that’ll do just fine,” Stede said, still looking mostly at Ed’s chest where it disappeared beneath the apron. “Shall we?”

They headed inside, and Ed showed Stede through to the living room. His house was very bare; it looked like he’d only just moved in that morning. But it did mean that Stede could take in all the gorgeous original period features, which were bountiful: carved plaster ceiling roses, stepped skirting boards, a cast-iron fireplace, and the most beautiful little acanthus leaf corbels in the hallway.

Ed stood awkwardly in the doorway, fiddling with the ties of his apron. “The last owner was into that minimalism shit. Left all those nice details that you’re cooing over, but stripped everything else back to its bones and just chucked a bucket of white paint over everything.”

“It’s… very striking,” Stede said cautiously, as he removed his coat and laid it over the arm of the sofa. “Very bright.”

“Feels like a waiting room at the doctor's office. I want to decorate, y’know, make it nice and homey and stuff, but I’ve just got no idea how.”

“Well let’s find a cup or something to put these flowers in, flowers will make any home look inviting.”

They went into the kitchen, which was just as big and bare and clinical as the living room. The one spot of colour was a little tin, sitting on the counter next to a kettle: it was a lovely rich blue, and painted with tiny yellow flowers. Stede recognised it immediately as a tea caddy, same as the one Ed had bought for him.

After a bit of rummaging, Ed produced a tall tupperware tub, the kind normally used for storing pasta. He filled it with water, placed it on the white marble breakfast bar that dominated the room, and then plopped the flowers inside. He took a step back to appraise his handiwork, seemed to find it acceptable, and then turned to the stove to check on whatever it was that was simmering away in a large pot.

“That smells delicious,” Stede said, inhaling deeply. “What are we having?”

“Boil up, figured it’d be nice on a chilly night like tonight. My mum used to make it for me, sometimes. Can’t remember the last time I had it, to be honest. Never tried making it for myself, even though I love it.”

Stede looked at him, softly. “Treating yourself doesn’t always have to involve luxurious extravagances and heaps of money, does it? Sometimes it’s just rediscovering something that fell by the wayside.”

Ed sniffed and danced his eyes away, then began to dump out some flour into a mixing bowl. “Mum always did the rēwena bread too, but I’m not that handy. Doughboys are easy though, just flour and salt and water.”

“You know, it’s also what you do in a place that makes it feel homey, not just how you decorate it.” Stede glanced around at the cavernous kitchen with its cold tile and bare walls, and then at the sticky dough covering Ed’s hands, and the bright spray of flowers in the tupperware tub. “Feels better in here already,” he said with a smile.

Ed smiled back, as he shaped the dough into little dumplings and stray clouds of flour drifted to land on his arms. “It’s because you’re in here, wearing that sexy fuckin’ suit. I’ll just put these in the pot and then food’ll be ready in about ten, fifteen minutes. Do you wanna drink?”

“Oh, fab, yes please. What’s on offer?”

“I’ve got the usual suspects, tea, coffee, milk, water, some really old orange juice that will probably kill you. But there’s also a fancy little mocktail I can make, if you want to try?”

That caught Stede a little off guard. For some reason, he had assumed that Ed was the type of guy to have an expensive, extensively-stocked drinks cabinet full of all kinds of aged whiskeys and triple-distilled spirits. “...You don’t drink?”

“Yeah, I… sorry, I should’ve told you. Some people get weird about it,” Ed said, hesitantly. “You can drink if you want though, I don’t mind, I can run to the shop right now and get you whatever you want,” he added hastily, and then paused. The look on his face was familiar; Stede had seen a more wounded, raw version of it before on their trip to the department store, standing in the changing room in that silky t-shirt. “I used to drink, used to do a lot of stuff, but nothing good ever came of it. My, um, my dad was a drinker.”

And in that moment Stede knew, with unwavering certainty, that he would never touch alcohol around Ed. Not for all the money in the world. “I’d love to try the mocktail,” he said.

Stede didn’t realise just how much tension Ed was holding in his body until it all suddenly evaporated in a little cloud of relief and excitement. “Fuckin’ great, it’s a classic sidecar recipe but you’re not gonna believe this man, it’s got tea in it. Tea and marmalade! And honey! Instead of the brandy! Mental.” Ed went to the fridge and pulled out a chilled jug of tea, chattering away while he assembled the rest of his ingredients and began pouring measures into a dented old cocktail shaker. “It’s lapsang souchong tea, got it from Jackie’s. Gives it that smokiness, and then the honey sweetens it up. Marmalade instead of the triple sec, lemon juice and ice as normal, then just give it a good old shake around and voila! Fancy drink.”

He poured the golden liquid through a sieve and into two squat glass tumblers. They toasted to the wonders of tea and marmalade, and looked at each other over the rim of their glasses as they drank.

Unfortunately for Stede, when the drinks had been made and the dishes and cutlery set out in readiness on the breakfast bar, and all they had left to do was wait for dinner to finish cooking, Ed finally had space in his brain to realise that he was still topless, and went to make himself decent.

He put on a woollen sweater which was in a lovely shade of deep inky teal, and in a very happy turn of events it had been knitted in such a way as to have a fingertip-sized hole every inch or so, laid out in a neat grid over the entirety of the garment. It was almost more tantalising this way; while the full expanse of Ed’s tattooed chest and back being on display was very, very nice, having it revealed in flashing little glimpses was even nicer. Stede was suddenly very aware of the fact that they still hadn’t kissed, but he just sat with the feeling, letting it roll around inside his chest. He took another sip of his drink and admired the view, feeling warm and syrupy inside.

“Figured it was better that I take it off rather than get it covered in flour and bits of pig, since it was kind of expensive,” Ed said sheepishly. “No harm though, since you got a nice eyeful, didn’t you?”

“Oh, I did. But I’m enjoying all these little eyefuls too.”

Soon enough, dinner was ready, and Ed ladled the boil up into two large, shallow bowls. The aroma was divine, thick and comforting and deliciously savoury, and Stede breathed in deeply as Ed placed the bowl before him on the breakfast bar.

“There we are. Made with love,” Ed said, and then realised what he’d just said. “Not like… I don’t mean that I— not that I don’t, you know, but— you know what I mean, right?”

“I know,” Stede said kindly, and he did know what Ed meant. Maybe they hadn’t quite blossomed into love yet, but they were planting their garden and sending down roots and watering the tender young shoots; they were cultivating love, tending to the tight bud of it that was aching to unfurl. They were taking their pleasure in the happy anticipation of seeing it grow, the warm excitement of the bountiful harvest. It was a wonderful feeling. “Let’s eat.”

There was nothing like hot broth on a cold day, and Stede could feel it seeping into his bones. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a meal this nice, a meal made with love. In his old life, food was invariably ordered in, or impersonally prepared by chefs. It wasn’t a vehicle for giving love, and there had never been any love to give anyway.

They sat on stools at the corner of the breakfast bar, and were both quiet as they ate, enjoying good food and good drink and most importantly, enjoying making eyes at each other. Stede let his mind drift over the strange turn his life had taken these past several weeks, ever since Ed had spoken to him in the café. Funny how so small and innocent a thing could snowball so quickly into… whatever this was that they were doing.

And what was it exactly? Were they officially boyfriends now? Were they dating casually? There was absolutely nothing about the situation that felt casual, especially not when Stede thought about the eye-wateringly expensive silk scarves sitting in his flat, and the fact that they were skirting carefully around the word ‘love’. Perhaps Ed could shed a little light on what he thought it was that they were doing.

“You know, Lucius said something funny the other week, when he stopped by the Cleanery. He said that you were my sugar daddy. Not sure what he meant by that, to be honest,” Stede said mildly, and Ed spluttered into his drink.

“Um. You know what a sugar daddy is, right?”

“Well, I… Lucius didn’t bother to explain it to me, and I can’t say that googling it has been top of my list of priorities lately. Is it bad?”

“Not really, no, but people can be quite judgemental about it. It’s… well…” Ed stopped to take a huge bite of potato, and chewed thoughtfully for a while. “A sugar daddy is someone you enter into a relationship with so that they’ll buy you stuff, or like give you an allowance, pay your rent, shit like that. In return you do sex stuff. Not always, some sugar relationships are completely sexless. But a lot of them are a kind of tit-for-tat money and sex thing. That’s… not what we’re doing. We’re not doing that.”

As if they weren’t doing that. It sounded like exactly what they’d been doing. “Aren’t we? You’ve bought me lots of things. Very expensive things.” Stede waited a few seconds for dramatic effect, and then: “And now I very much want to have sex with you.”

Ed spluttered for a second time. “Fucking hell, man. Yeah, I have bought you a lot of very expensive stuff. But that’s not why you want to have sex, is it?”

“No.”

“And I’m not buying it so that you’ll have sex with me. So I’m not your sugar daddy.”

“Okay, well, I suppose that makes sense.” Stede paused for a moment. “Unless…?”

Ed’s eyes suddenly got very sharp and intense. “Unless?”

“Unless you are though. I mean, what we’re doing is close enough, right? And I know how it looks to other people. We kind of fell into it by accident, but now that we’re here… might as well lean into it. I like it. And I think you like it too.”

“I like it very much.”

“So why not call it what it is? And you can carry on taking care of me, providing for me, indulging me,” Stede murmured, leaning in close, looking at Ed’s mouth, “and I can carry on doing this.” He caught Ed’s lips in a soft, teasing kiss, their first in a week. Ed’s fork clattered as it hit the counter, and when Stede pulled back Ed chased after his retreating mouth.

“You were always so skittish,” Ed murmured, cupping a hand around the curve of Stede’s neck and rubbing a thumb over his cheek. His fingers trailed down, stroking over the silk at Stede’s throat. “I’m meant to be seducing you, but now you’re talking like this, driving me fucking crazy… What changed?”

Stede looked down at his mostly-empty bowl of food, thoughtful. Something had certainly changed; or rather, it wasn’t something, but everything, and it had been changing imperceptibly by small degrees, ever since their first meeting, and only now looking back could he see how different he had become. Old Stede never would’ve found it so easy to just be with Ed in this new way, playful and carefree. “I don’t know,” he said, slowly. “I think, maybe on some level I still expected it to be awful, you know? That was the entirety of my experience, just awful, awkward situations where I wasn’t enjoying myself and neither was the other person, and I suppose I just assumed that it would always be like that, and I just had to find someone who was worth suffering for.”

“Stede—”

“You remember when I said— on the phone, when we, you know. I said I had no idea it could feel like that. That wasn’t an exaggeration. It was the first enjoyable sexual experience I ever had. And, well, now that I know how good it can all be, how good you make it for me, I feel… safe, and happy, and like I’m free to just… do what comes naturally. Like you said.”

“So you’re a natural fuckin’ flirt then, are you? Saucy Stede, ready to bat your eyelashes and sit in my lap?”

“Maybe not quite like that,” Stede said, smiling, “but yes. I have a lifetime of hideous self-esteem issues to unpack, and I know that some things will always be a struggle. But when I’m with you, it’s easier. You make it easy.”

“I’m so gone for you,” Es said simply, and in those words Stede heard all the curiosity and attention and affection and desire that had built up over the weeks, and the promise of so much more to come.

They fell into another comfortable silence, finishing off the small remainders of their food and swirling the final sips of their drinks around in their glasses.

“Sugar baby,” Edward said, after he tipped the last drop of his drink into his mouth. “That’s what you’d be. My sugar baby. Kept and doted on, wanting for nothing.” He turned on his stool to face Stede more fully, and ran his fingertips over the back of Stede’s hand where he’d rested it on the marble countertop. “Maybe I should move you into my house, keep you like a little pet. Would you like that?” His voice was very low, and Stede shivered.

“Yes,” he said, a little breathless.

“My pretty little thing, all dressed up in finery, bought and paid for. Sweet and greedy and demanding.”

Their faces were very close, and their breath hot. Stede leaned in a fraction, just enough for the barest brush of lips. “Take me upstairs,” he whispered.

Ed stood up from his stool, and immediately fell to the floor with a loud, “FUCK!”

The atmosphere, so thick and heavy with desire a moment ago, was cut in two with all the shock of a bucket of cold water to the face.

“Oh god, Ed, are you okay? Are you hurt? Let me help you up…” Stede bent down and took Ed’s arms in his, holding him while he got his legs under himself again. Slowly they stood together, Ed leaning unsteadily against Stede’s body. “What happened?” Stede asked, voice shrill with worry.

“Stupid fucking piece of shit knee. Fuck! It just gives out sometimes, no warning. Fuckin’. Fuck.” He winced in pain, and leaned more heavily against Stede. “Hurts for ages afterwards. Can’t put any weight on it. Fucking hell.”

“Is there anything I can do to help? Do you need your brace? I’ll get it for you, where is it?” Stede lowered Ed gingerly back onto his stool, and started pacing the kitchen, opening cupboards and drawers and absurdly the fridge, even though it made absolutely no sense for Ed to keep his brace there.

Ed sighed in frustrated resignation. “Brace won’t do much good now. This is basically a death sentence for the rest of our evening, just so you know. Can’t fuckin’ do anything when it’s like this. At least it gave out after dinner…”

Stede gave up his search for the brace and came back to Ed, running his hands fretfully over his leg. “Is there a salve, ice, a heat pad or something, anything I can put on it for you? Do you need a massage?” He had absolutely no idea how to massage a dodgy knee, but if it was Ed needed, he would give it his best shot.

“Stede, you gotta stop clucking over me like a mother hen. I’ll be okay. Just… help me up to the bathroom, will you? A boiling hot soak is usually the only thing that helps ease it a bit.”

“Absolutely, yes, I can do that. Get your arm around me. Where is it, up the stairs, yes? Right. You ready? Let’s go.”

Slowly, awkwardly, with many hisses from Ed and worried yelps from Stede, between them they managed to manoeuvre Ed up the staircase and into the bathroom. It was similarly bare like the rest of the house, save for a messy little pile of lavender shampoo bars and— wow—

“What an incredible bathtub! Gosh, it’s just beautiful. Is it original? Absolutely outstanding. The colour! So vibrant! What a luxury…”

Ed eased himself down onto a little wooden stool, quite forgotten as Stede continued to gush over the big copper bathtub.

“Stede.”

“Hm?” he said distractedly, still admiring the tub and running a hand over the curved edge.

“I’m still damaged here.”

“Oh right, of course, sorry Edward. Shall I run the bath? I’ll run the bath. Oh, I love these taps…”

Stede fussed around, repeatedly checking the temperature of the water, and adding in a generous dollop of muscle soak bubble bath that he found in a cupboard. While the bath slowly filled with steaming water and a frankly ridiculous amount of foamy bubbles, Ed removed his sweater, and Stede politely averted his gaze.

“You’re allowed to look,” Ed said with a little laugh. “It’s not like you’ve not already seen it. Might need a bit of help getting the trousers off, actually. Bending the knee isn’t really an option right now.”

Right. Of course he was allowed to look. Ed wanted him to look. That was all part of flirting, wasn’t it? Looking, being looked at. Playing around with it. Enjoying it.

Stede crouched down next to Ed’s outstretched leg, and carefully began to work his trousers down. “Not quite how I pictured this going,” Stede said, a little coy.

“Been picturing it, have you?”

“Oh, a little bit here and there, yes. It’s just a fantasy, though. I’ve been told the real thing is far better. Do you, um… want a towel? For your modesty.” Stede gestured at Ed’s crotch, covered now only by the thin fabric of his underwear. “I know you said I’m allowed to look, but I don’t want to presume about what exactly that includes.”

“Such a gentleman. Towels are in the airing cupboard,” Edward said with a small smile.

Once appropriately covered, Ed stood on one wobbly leg and shimmied his underwear down beneath the towel. With a steadying hand and many worried noises from Stede, he managed to get into the bathtub, removing the towel and chucking it with a wet slap onto the floor once he was covered by the mountains of bubbles. As he sank further into the soothing water, his eyes drifted closed and he let out the deepest, throatiest moan Stede had ever heard.

After a couple of minutes spent adjusting to the heat and enjoying the weightlessness in his leg, Ed opened his eyes and said, “You don’t have to stay, if you don’t want to. This is definitely not how I was planning for the evening to go. Can’t believe I got cockblocked by my own fucking knee.”

Stede pulled the little wooden stool around to the side of the bath, and sat himself down on it. He combed gentle fingers through the hair at Ed’s temple, and Ed leaned into the touch with a sigh. “I want to stay. The evening’s not wasted.”

“No?”

“No, because now I get to look at you in the bath. You’re very beautiful.”

“More beautiful than the tub itself?”

“Well I’m not sure abou— hey! I was joking!” Stede yelped, as Ed splashed him with water. “The tub might as well be a pig trough, compared to you.”

“Weird compliment, but okay. Keep ‘em coming.”

“In a room full of exquisite cashmere shawls, the only thing I would want wrapped around me is you.”

“That’s a bit more like it. Carry on.”

“You have eyes like a baby cow.”

“Um.”

“What I mean is— you have beautiful eyes, very big and dark with very long lashes, and I get a bit gooey if I look at them for too long.”

“Just think. If tonight had gone how I’d planned, you could’ve been whispering all these sweet nothings to me in bed,” Ed said with a wry smile. “I’d have been putty in your hands, doing anything you wanted.”

“Now you’re just taking the piss,” Stede said, and splashed water back at Ed. “But… say your knee hadn’t given out, and this had all gone how you wanted it to… what would be happening right now? What would we be doing?” he asked, quiet. He kept his hand in the water, swirling it around his fingers, close to Ed’s body.

Ed shifted about a little, and water sloshed up over his chest, leaving a shiny, wet trail of bubbles in its wake. The room was thick with steam, making everything soft and hazy, and Ed’s voice was low when he said, “We’d be in my bedroom. I’d get on my knees for you. Touch you. Get you hard. Finish the job I started at your place last week, let you use my mouth however you wanted. Then I’d crawl onto the bed and arch my back and ask you to fuck me.”

Ever so gently, Stede moved his hand and brushed his wet fingers over Ed’s nipple. He stayed there, toying with the piercing, while Ed looked at him, heavy-lidded, open-mouthed. “And then what?”

“Then… then you’d kiss me, deep and slow, and push my legs open. Kiss down my body, maybe… maybe suck my dick a little. Then you’d, ah, fuck—”

Stede had started to pinch Ed’s nipple, not ever so hard, but hard enough. “Too much? I know how sensitive you can be.” He moved to rub and squeeze the muscle instead, palm sliding over wet skin.

“You’re a fucking menace, Stede. Fuck.” Ed arched into the touch, and his breath quickened.

“Seems that way, doesn’t it?” Stede had never felt like this before in his life. Almost— powerful. It was heady, the way Ed reacted so strongly to just his touch and a few whispered words. “Anyway, you were in the middle of telling me what I was going to do to you. Please continue.”

“God, where was I? Um. You’d— lick me. You know. Fuckin’, eat me out. Get me nice and wet and ready for you.”

Stede began to slide his hand down Ed’s chest and stomach, beneath the water level. He felt the first tickling little brush of hair when Ed grabbed his wrist and held him still.

“If— if you touch me there, Stede, I’m not gonna be able to control myself and I will bend over for you right here. I want to, god I fucking want to so fucking much, but my knee just can’t take it right now.” He moved Stede’s hand back up to his chest, and slid his fingers against his nipple again. “Stay here. I’ll do the rest.”

“Whatever you want, darling,” Stede murmured, and then leaned in for a slow, luxurious kiss. Ed’s mouth felt so fucking good against his, the hot, velvet slide of his lips and tongue, and Stede had no idea how he’d managed to survive the past week without having this every day.

Ed sank his hand back beneath the water. The muscles in his arm flexed as he worked himself, and soon enough he was breaking the kiss and whimpering into Stede’s mouth.

“You feel so good, Edward,” Stede whispered, as he carried on squeezing and tugging at his nipples. He hadn’t planned to touch himself as well, in the moment wanting only to take care of Ed and distract him from his pain, but having Ed wet and whimpering beneath him like that was more than Stede could handle. He flicked open the button on his trousers, carefully drew down the zipper, and slipped his free hand inside.

“Fuck. When you fucking said that— on the phone— drove me fucking wild, I couldn’t believe it—”

“It just came out. I was thinking about you, couldn’t help it.”

Ed’s breath was very fast, chest heaving, hand jerking rapidly beneath the water. His other hand came to Stede’s neck, fingers hooking over the silk scarf, pulling him closer. “What were you thinking?”

“How… how good it felt to have you inside me, how much I loved it. I know it was just a toy, but in the moment it was you, Edward. Fuck. It felt like you.” Stede was in three places at once: in his bed, on the phone, listening to Ed tell him that he could take it; in his fantasy, where instead of a dildo it was Ed pushing his way inside, hot and relentless; and here, in the bathroom, watching Ed become a writhing mess in the water. “Hearing your voice, those words, telling me that you were— oh god, fuck, saying you were fucking me deep just like I deserved, that’s what made me come.”

Hidden by the side of the tub, Ed couldn’t see Stede’s lap, but he could see the tension in his arm, the tight frantic movement, and the deep flush in Stede’s cheeks. “Are you—?”

“Yes—”

“Oh fuck, fuck, Stede—”

Ed yanked Stede in for another kiss, but only managed a brief wet slide of lips before he was moaning against Stede’s mouth and coming hard in the water. His body shook in ripples and waves, and Stede kissed him through it as he followed Ed over the edge and came in a messy splatter into his palm.

They took a moment, just to breathe and exist with each other, an echo of the last time they did this. But this time, instead of deflecting and minimising and talking of other things, Stede said, “I hope you’ll agree that your seduction has proved… quite successful.”

“Yeah? Does that mean I get to keep you?”

Stede smiled warmly, heart thudding in his chest, as he said, “I’m yours.”

Afterwards, Stede helped Edward to his bedroom and got him settled on the bed, leg propped up on some cushions and phone, laptop, emergency walking stick, and a big glass of water all within easy reach. It was a little early still to be ending a date, but it had already been a perfect evening and Stede felt there was nothing he’d missed out on. Besides, he knew that if he stayed and watched TV shows in bed with Edward, soon they would stop watching and start doing other things and that would not end well at all for Ed’s knee.

They kissed goodbye once, twice, seven times. When Stede left the house, he stood on the street and gazed up at Ed’s bedroom window, the warm light spilling out into the dark like a beacon.

[katherinecrighton]

a long, long kiss

– a kiss of youth and love. (Oh, Byron, you are so dreamy.)

(originally posted in 2010 on annakatherine.com, and reposted in 2013 on the Anna Katherine co-tumblr)

I often think that the kiss, rather than the sex scene, is the primary romantic force of the romance novel. For me, a sex scene is emotional, sure, but for the most part shows up as titillation for the reader. The kiss, though, is where the love comes from. A kiss can tell you a lot about how two characters feel for one another, how they approach this strange new thing between them.

And there’s nothing quite like kissing someone for the first time — the leading up to it, the uncertainty, the raw delight and aching tension in the “what if” and the “when.” If a book just brushes past the first kiss to get to something ostensibly more sexy… well, it just makes my little heart break a bit. That there is a missed opportunity to make your readers really feel the investment your characters are putting into this thing.

Here are some examples of my favorite kinds of kisses:

I’m a sucker for the slow approach. I mean really slow. Sam and Jill’s kiss in Gilliam’s Brazil? Fantastic. And my shame when it comes to loving the kiss-before-the-reveal in the 1995 Sabrina? Epic. If it takes two people five minutes just to close the distance, I am weeping with joy by the end of it. This works better on-screen than in text, I think.

The unexpected kiss. Yes, this is somewhat in contrast with the above. I first discovered my love of this many years ago in Rosemary Edghill’s Turkish Delight, when the female lead is ranting about something (perhaps English weather?) on the back of a horse, and immediately following the end of an impassioned speech from her, the next line reads, “He kissed her.” This works absolutely best in text, though on-screen is no slouch.

The kiss everyone is pretending means something else. My absolute favorite example of that right now is from Sophia Coppola’s Lost in Translation, when Bob and Charlotte (both married) are on the elevator in their hotel, returning to their separate rooms, and they’re both pretending that wanting to touch, wanting to be together, isn’t why they’re kissing goodnight — even though they both know it is. (4:10 in this fanvid shows a little bit of what I mean.) It’s awkward, it’s a little bit wrong, and it’s fooling no one, but you can feel every second of it on your skin.

Kissing as seduction. This would seem pretty straightforward, but think about it — usually you get stuff like “witty conversation”, “deep spiritual connection”, “shared history”, or, you know, “mutual feelings” as the way to get characters to fall in love. And those are all great, don’t get me wrong. But sometimes, I just want there to be kissing. Kissing for bad reasons, like bets, and kissing for no reason, like an empty terrace and boredom. Kissing because someone’s there, and the character just really wants to kiss someone. Basically, I want all the characters to be wearing the shirt described here when the book starts. And then… it becomes something more. Maybe it’s a really good kiss. Maybe it’s all a lot less boring than everyone thought it was going to be. Maybe it was an awful kiss, and everyone backs away and says, “Whoa, what? What happened there?” — and has to think about what they’re doing. Mary Jo Putney’s Thunder and Roses has kissing thrown in to shake up a bet; the heroine just wants to get through it without embarrassing herself, and the hero just wants to see what happens if he messes with her. That entire book (and a lot of Putney’s works, come to think of it) basically becomes an ode to “kissing is awesome”.

Finally, the memory of kissing. It’s not a kiss that happens onscreen — it’s the kiss that happened years ago that no one can forget. The kiss that’s been built up and worried over and made huge (sometimes even when it shouldn’t be) — the kiss that dulls every kiss after it, because nothing can compare. With movies and television, I like little sudden flash-cuts of hotness in the middle of mundane activity. With fiction, though, I like a good solid wallow. I want every detail, and then I want to know exactly what made this kiss the one that’s stuck. Everything builds from that. Yum.

So: Kisses! Those are my favorites — what are yours?

[dictacontrion]

Hiii!:) I would love to hear the answer to 21, 23 and 28. Thanks.:)

Hi anon!!! thanks for asking!!!

21. What was the first fanfic you ever wrote?

the very very very first ever was a snippet of buffy fanfic that i wrote when i was maybe 15 and never finished or posted, and the first one i finished was a heart so transparent, which has shades of finishing that other first one which might be part of why a heart so transparent is i think pretty different from everything else i’ve written.

23. Name a fic you’ve written that you’re especially fond of & explain why you like it.

Any Instrument. Writing it was the most intrinsically rewarding thing I’ve ever done. I loved the process, I loved living in that world and in those spaces, I loved the way the story unfolded, I loved being able to get as immersed in the world as I was able to, I loved having the time and space to tell a story I really wanted to tell, I loved being a part of that writing community at that moment in time and the time spent talking to my beta and to other writers and hanging out in chatzy and the mod support, I loved feeling like I was able to rise to the challenge of writing that story and writing it for the authors who got me into this fandom and who remain two of the writers I most admire. Everything. It was a fantastic experience. And I started rereading it once and it didn’t suck!!! That was pretty cool too!!!!! All that said, I’m struggling to articulate what I do or would like about it from a reader’s perspective bc so much of my attachment to it has to do with the experience of writing it. But I think I’d like the settings and the pace and the concept?

28. If someone were to draw a piece of fanart for your story, which story would it be and what would the picture be of?

It would be Harry and Draco in the orchard in Any Instrument. Like ninety different versions of that scene. But also a lot of scenes from Any Instrument (@anemonensblog drew one here and @apriicat drew one here and I am in love with both of them and have sat here staring at them lovingly for the last few minutes) and lots of stuff from Make Me a Headline and The Vanishing Department and On Open Wings and No Greater Victory and okay I can think of scenes from every fic I’ve ever written and...look, I’m a fic writer, it is a fairly safe bet that I am thirsty af for art of my fic and over nine different moons when it happens and there is absolutely no going wrong ever. Not that that’s why you were asking i just got carried away with the question!!!

fanfic ask meme

[xxbangchansidedishxx]

Needy- I.N X Hyunjin

Plot: I.N is curious and opens a fanfiction about him and his best friend. This leads to him getting very flustered and fucking himself... but what happens when Hyunjin overhears?

Jeongin:

Jeongin lay in bed, everything was quiet. Just peaceful. But for some reason no matter how hard he tried he could not fall asleep. The silence around him was interrupted when he heard a loud ping come from his phone. Well since he is already awake he might as well check what it is. After unlocking his phone he comes to see that it's a new post from a tumblr account he follows. Jeongin was no stranger to tumblr, ever since he became an idol he was always interested in what fans had to say about him, so much so that he decided to make undercover social media accounts. But this time the post seemed different, he was greeted with a long page of writing and a title that read ' I.N X Hyunjin fanfiction' . Of course he had heard of fanfiction but he never actually read any. His curiosity got the better of him and his tired eyes began to scan the words on the page, his cheeks flushing red.

The story:

Hyunjin's tongue swirled around the youngers nipple, earning soft whimpers and moans. This only encouraged him more. His hips began to grind against the maknae's clearly hard cock, the friction making him squirm and beg for more.

-

Jeongin:

As story I.N was getting topped by his best friend he could feel his own cock growing. Of course he had thought about this happening. I mean who couldn't? Hyunjin was undeniably attractive, his long soft hair, his sweet voice and plump lips. Everything about him draws you in. But nothing could happen. It's his best friend, he shouldn't be thinking this way. The younger boys imagination was going wild with thoughts of the older man teasing him and making him beg for more, that's when he realised how uncomfortably tight his boxers were. This is so embarrassing. He thought to himself. He had never gotten himself off before. He felt too shameful to even touch himself, even more so now that it was his own best friend making him feel these things.

Soft whimpers left desperate lips as he grinded his erection into his mattress. Ugh fuck it. He couldn't take this anymore. He kicked the restrictive material off and grabbed his sensitive cock that was slick with pre cum. Slowly he moved his hand up and down gasping at the new sensation, he trailed a hand up his chest to toy with his nipples, thoughts about Hyunjin getting dirtier and dirtier by the second. The walls are so thin but he's struggling to keep quiet. He bites onto his pillow desperately trying to muffle the noises that were leaving his mouth.

As hard as he tried to keep the noise down Hyunjin had already heard everything. He lay in his bed next door with his own cock growing hard. He imagined the younger right next door to him with his head thrown back in pleasure. His chest rising heavily and his lips parted and tinted red from biting them so hard to hold back moans. What could have even gotten him so worked up at this time anyway? Then Hyunjin realised. They had spoke about this not so long ago. I.N had never even touched himself before. The week prior the two had been playing never have I ever and they found out that the maknae was even more innocent than they had thought.

This turned the older man on even more. The fact that just next door his best friend is touching himself for the first time. All these new thoughts and feelings rushing through his head.

At this point his cock was achingly hard.

"Ugh mm fuck H-Hyunjinnie."

What was that? Did he seriously moan my name? The man thought to himself.

He couldn't take this anymore. Quietly he made his way to Jeongin's room.

Through a crack in his slightly open door he could see him. His widened eyes fixed on the youngers leaking cock, then to his flushed face with dark hair tossled and stuck to his forehead with sweat. Taking a deep breath he stepped into his room, that's when he noticed him.

But what makes it even worse is that when he opened his eyes a moan of the elders name left his lips.

His face turned crimson with embarrassment before he jumped under his covers trying to hide his exposed body.

"Hyunjin what the fuck!" He yelped in surprise.

The elder just smirked and sat on the edge of his bed.

"What were you doing hm Innie?" His soft voice taunted.

"Isn't it obvious what I was doing?" The younger whined.

"Rather, yes. But I want you to say it with your words Innie."

He smirked as he saw the boy get even redder.

His reply came as a weak whisper.

"I- I was touching myself."

"What were you thinking of?"

Jeongin buried his head in his pillow.

"I was thinking of you"

Hyunjin didn't need to hear anymore.

In one quick motion he took the cover of the shy man causing him to Yelp.

"Ssh baby, I'm gonna help you with your little problem."

He shuddered and bit his lip in anticipation as Hyunjin attached his plump lips to the Youngers sensitive neck leaving soft kisses along the skin.

After a while he began to attack his sweet spot making him pant uncontrollably.

"P-please Hyunjin."

"Patience baby."

Moving down to his chest, Hyunjin trailed bright red hickys leading to his hard nipples before taking one into his mouth and lapping his tongue around the sensitive bud.

Pornographic noises filled the room. Whining, panting, the sound of the elders wet lips hungrily sucking at the youngers nipples.

Gripping the sheets beneath him for some sort of composure Jeongin whined out.

"H-Hyunjin please."

He was too embarrassed to finish his sentence.

"Please what baby?."

Hyunjin looked up at the boy with lust filled eyes.

"Please touch my cock Hyunjinnie."

His face flushed red once again as Hyunjin chuckled and made his way lower down.

Slowly licking across his tip tasting the saltiness and rolling his tongue around it, savouring every whimper that came from the youngers body. At this rate he was going to cum untouched, the noises coming from the man beneath him were almost too much to handle. Trailing hands down to his own cock he began to stoke it at an almost painfully slow pace. Tears left his dark eyes as he took the rest of the boys cock down his throat gagging slightly as it choked him. He began to whimper around his cock in delight as the boy began to buck his hips signalling that he was close.

Just as his cock began to twitch in the elders mouth he pulled off with a loud pop.

"Ugh Jinnie f- what I-" I.N complained between pants.

Hyunjin just chuckled.

"Turn around baby. This will feel even better. Trust me."

Jeongin did as he was told and got onto his hands and knees, arching his back.

His cheeks flushed red as he felt his best friend spread his ass apart admiring his tight hole.

He forced his fingers into the bottoms mouth to cover them with salava before rubbing two slowly against his entrance.

"Have you ever had anything in here before baby boy?"

He asked although he already knew the answer.

He timidly shook his head replying no.

Carefully to not hurt him Hyunjin scissored two fingers slowly into his hole, stretching him out as the boy moaned in pain and pleasure beneath him.

"Does it feel good baby?" He purred, thrusting his fingers at an angle that caused the boy to cry out.

"Hmmm so good Jinnie n-need more."

Hyunjin spat into his own hand and began to stroke his cock, covering it in the slick substance.

Teasingly he rubbed against the entrance before pushing in slowly moaning out at the tightness that surrounded him.

Jeongin whimpered at the size of his best friends cock, the feeling of being filled up made him feel like he was on cloud nine.

His thrusts started slow and steady.

He knew he had to take it easy on him as it was his first time but it took every bone in his body to not just slam into him without any mercy.

"You are taking my cock so well baby. Fuck, feels so good in your tight little ass."

The praise just made Jeongin need more. He grinded his hips down to meet Hyunjin's cock at a faster pace.

"Awe cute, my baby is so needy for daddy's cock."

He picked up the speed wrapping a hand around the younger boys neck as he repeatedly slapped into his prostate.

"Mm f-fuck h-Hyunjin, so good mmh."

He couldn't compose himself anymore.

Profanities left his parted lips as he felt himself reaching his high.

He clenched tightly around the long haired mans cock before releasing with a strangled cry.

The pressure around his cock caused Hyunjin to release inside of the younger man, slowly pulling out as he admired his cum leaking out of the maknae's tight little ass.

The two collapsed panting and whimpering, trying to catch their breath back.

"That was amazing." I.N giggled.

Nuzzling his head against the crook of his best friends neck.

"I never knew our innocent Innie was such a whore in bed!." Hyunjin whispered seductively causing I.N to blush for the hundredth time that night.

"Hey! You are the one that corrupted me."

"Actually if you forgot. You were the one moaning my name and jerking themself off." Hyunjin laughed as a look of horror spread across Jeongin's face.

"I'm tired. Let's sleep idiot."

"Okay whatever you say Innie."

Hyunjin pulled the cover over them before kissing I.N softly on the head.

"Goodnight Innie, I love you."

He whispered. Not long after the two fell asleep in each others embrace.

[ncisjes]

Just a Distraction

A oneshot based on Kill Ari I wrote ten (TEN) years ago that never got published here because you know I wasn’t on tumblr just yet but @benditlikepress said she wanted to read it and what my queen wants she gets. 

NSFW//Read here on FF.net

Tony DiNozzo stood outside of the Embasero hotel sipping the espresso Ziva had just brought him. It was a little early in the fall season for it to be this chilly, but he did enjoy the cold. He just wished it wasn't raining and cold. He loved rain because he loved to kiss in it, and he loved the cold because it made him want to stay in bed all day under warm and cozy covers (preferably with a female under them as well). Not that he couldn't do that when it was hot outside. Something about the cold just made it more… romantic?

"It really is getting cold out here." A female voice called, breaking him from his thoughts. He wondered what she was doing back outside with him. It hadn't even been half an hour since she had bid him goodnight.

"Ah it's not too bad. You should be here towards November. That's when the temperatures really drop." He replied while looking up at the sky.

"I like to spend my winters in Paris. It is so beautiful this time of year."

"Paris is beautiful anytime of the year. Not as beautiful as Italy though."

"Of course, because you are Italian."

"How did you know I- Oh well I guess DiNozzo gives it away huh?"

"That amongst other things."

"What other things?"

She stayed silent as her eyes watched the cars go by.

"Better question: What are you doing back outside Miss David?"

"Well since I am not going anywhere and you have been assigned to keep track of me, I was thinking that perhaps you would like to come up to my room where it is nice and warm instead of standing out here in the wet cold."

His face lit up in a thousand watt smile and he moved so that his face was only inches from hers, "Up to your room huh? And what are we going to do up there?"

"You are going to watch me, since that is your assignment." She moved so that they were even closer. Her eyes drifted down to his lips and then back up to his eyes.

"Oh I love to watch, just as long as I get to join in at some point." His voice dropped to a low, sexy tone.

"I am sure you are going to love watching me," Her voice dropped to a husky whisper. She could feel his breath on her lips. "Read my book." She said as she started back into the hotel.

Tony quickly threw away his coffee cup and ran to catch up to her. He slid through the elevator doors just as they were closing, which caused them open all the way again. Ziva rolled her eyes as she pushed the "close doors' button and then the number four.

The ride up was completely silent. Tony had his hands tucked in his pockets and seemed to be very interested in the sticker that stated the weight capacity of the elevator. Ziva had her arms folded under her chest and only looked up from the floor when the elevator opened to her floor. Tony stayed a few steps behind her to admire her backside, and Ziva did a little strut to show off.

10 minutes earlier [(is in Hebrew)]

"(What do you mean she forgot her passport?)" Ziva yelled into her satellite phone while pacing in her hotel room.

"(She forgot it Ziva! What can I tell you? We have to go back and get it.)" Ari shouted back as he glared down the woman sitting next to him.

"(And how do you plan to get past Special Agent DiNozzo Ari? He is right outside!)"

"(I will need you to distract him.)"

"(Fine! But this is the last time we use one of your stupid little girlfriends for a drop!)" And with that she ended the call.

Ziva shot Tony a seductive glance as she slid the card into the door. He smiled back and couldn't help the growing sensation in his groin. He followed her into the simple, yet very expensive looking hotel room.

As they walked Tony took in his surroundings. There was a small living area with a leather sofa and TV to the left. As he continued down the hallway there was the bathroom with a large tub and separate shower also on the left. Then finally as he entered the bedroom there was a large king sized bed with a gold comforter against the left wall, along with a lamp and bedside table, the dresser with the TV on top on the right wall, a chair and desk with a lamp on top of it on the back wall, and a long oak table on the front wall.

"Nice place you got here." Tony said as he turned on the lamp and took a seat in the chair by the desk. Ziva stood in front of the long table as she took the berets out of her hair and ran her fingers through it. Then she took off her jacket, boots, and socks leaving her in dark tan cargo pants and a white spaghetti strap. When she turned around to face Tony, she found him leaning back in the chair, legs spread, and staring at her.

"It will do for the time I am here." Ziva answered. She turned on the lamp next to her and picked up her book off the bedside table.

Tony couldn't tear his eyes off of her as she lay down on the bed and made herself comfortable.

"Are you really going to read?" He asked, slightly annoyed.

"Yes." She replied as she turned the page.

"Well what are you reading?" She spit out a Hebrew title and Tony had no idea what it meant.

"Oh really? Did they make that into a movie?"

Ziva just glared at him and continued reading. Tony wanted to pick the conversation again to annoy her, but when he saw her so deep into her book he just couldn't. He thought about what Kate had said.

There is no way she could always tell what I was thinking. I mean sure she knew my mind was always on sex, what guy's isn't? Could she tell that I loved her though? Why didn't I tell her I loved her? It's not that hard. All I had to do was say "Hey Kate, I love you. Not in the I'm IN love with you way, but I do love you, you know like a sister. I'd do anything for you. I've always got your six. Damn it DiNozzo why couldn't you ever say that to her?

Tony was now sitting up straight with his hands tucked under his arms. He was still staring at Ziva, but he wasn't really looking at her.

Ziva could no longer avoid looking at him. She had felt his gaze on her for the past ten minutes, but the last two it felt like he was looking so hard he was burning her skin. When her eyes met his though, she noticed he was lost in his thoughts. Staring at her but not really seeing her.

"You look tense." She said, breaking him from his trance.

"My back definitely feels like it." He replied as he sat up straighter and his back pulled a snap, crackle, POP! On him.

"Would you like a massage?" Ziva asked as she set her book down on the nightstand.

"You seriously offering?" He looked at her questioningly.

"Yes." She answered as she moved to sit on the edge of the bed and face him.

"Ah I see. You are trying to get me into an easier position to kill me." He added as he stood and walked toward the bed.

"Why would I need to kill you? You have done nothing wrong. I will not give you a massage if you are going to question my motives." Ziva told him as she scooted herself to the middle of the bed.

"No, wait. I'm sorry. Please?" Tony pleaded. He stood at the side of the bed as he waited for her response. He sat down on the edge of the bed when she rolled her eyes and nodded.

Ziva rolled up onto her knees and waddled until she was right behind Tony. She began her massage with very easy moves, just running her hands up and down his back and rolling his shoulders. She tried to apply some harder rubbing when she reached his left shoulder, but she couldn't feel how tense his muscles were with his shirt on.

"Take your shirt off." Ziva commanded.

"Huh?" Tony asked. He was very much enjoying her simple massage. He had to fight his eyes closing along with his arousal. Ziva had caught him completely off guard.

"Your shirt, take it off."

"Why? Eager to see my six pack?" He joked a he waggled his eyebrows.

"I do not know how you have a six pack of beer under your shirt without me noticing. However I need your shirt off so that I can feel how much pressure I need to apply to relieve your tension."

"It's not a six pack of beer it's a six pack of- you know what, never mind. You want it off? It's coming off." Tony said, sounding annoyed. Just as he began undoing his buttons, Ziva's satellite phone began to ring. She swirled off the bed to answer it.

"Shalom." She answered quickly switching to Hebrew.

"Ziva, the hotel does not want to let us back into the room for some reason. We are going to have to break in. I need you to keep Agent DiNozzo entertained for a while longer." Ari said rather quickly.

"That should not be a problem." Ziva's brain switched back to English without even thinking about it. She hung up and crouched behind Tony again. His shirt had long been discarded.

"What was that about?" Tony asked as Ziva's nimble fingers began in soft, soothing circles at the top of his back.

"Oh, nothing. My boss just wanted to make sure Ari returned without causing any more misunderstandings." She explained as she applied more pressure to his shoulder blade.

"Oh…" Tony groaned. He tried to keep himself from melting to her touch, but the fight just wasn't in him.

Ziva continued her ministrations by running her hands up and down his back, rubbing soft circles into his sides, and kneading the tense muscle near his left shoulder. Tony had long given up trying to support himself and leaned into her every move. His erection was growing steadily as he tried to focus his mind elsewhere, but he lost that battle as well.

As her hands reached the waistband of his jeans, Ziva placed a kiss in the middle of his back. A few seconds later she placed another one an inch higher. She continued placing soft kisses up his back, pausing in between each one, until she reached his neck.

Tony kept trying to make himself stop her. Ziva's lips felt so good on his skin that he couldn't form a coherent thought. When she placed a kiss on lowest curve of his neck, Tony quickly turned and captured her lips with his. They pulled apart a second later and shared a brief smoldering look before their lips met again.

Ziva's hands moved to each of Tony's cheeks as the kiss quickened. It was extremely simple, touch and part, for the moment. Tony grabbed Ziva's hips and slid her into his lap. She gasped a she felt his very erect shaft press against her. Tony took the opportunity to pull her shirt over her head. After all, it wasn't fair he was half naked and she was pretty much fully clothed.

As soon as her shirt was over her head, Ziva pulled Tony's lips back to hers. This time her tongue demanded entrance into his mouth, and he eagerly obliged. When their tongues met, Ziva felt this unruly pang of desire wash over her. Control yourself Ziva! He is just an assignment.

She had been on many of these 'assignments', but she had never felt such a strong attraction to one. Tony was one of the most gorgeous men she'd ever seen. His light brown hair, his toned muscles, his beautiful eyes, all made her want to claim him, to be claimed by him. There was something else about him too though. Maybe it was the way he didn't back down when they bantered or that he was almost blatantly honest with her. She couldn't really put her finger on what it was, but she just knew there was something more that made her want him so badly.

Tony moaned loudly when Ziva began to grind against him, silently telling him what she wanted. He thrust his tongue into her mouth as his hands untangled themselves from her hair and moved down to her hips so that he could flip her onto her back.

In one quick motion, the tables had turned and he was now straddling her, grinding into her. When Ziva moaned Tony pulled back for a second to look into her eyes, but instead his attention drifted to the foot of the bed.

There sat Kate, all dressed up in her catholic school girl outfit, legs crossed, filing her nails. She shook her head at him.

"Just another notch on your bedpost, Tony?"

The words sunk in and hit him hard. He pushed himself up off of Ziva and the bed, leaving her confused and unsatisfied. She sat up on her elbows and watched him as he leaned against the desk and ran his hands over his face.

Ziva didn't know what had made his mood change so quickly, but she did know she wanted him, craved him. Before she could stop herself, her body was up and off the bed and pulling Tony's lips to hers.

The kiss was slow, and chaste this time. She sucked on his bottom lip and ran her tongue over it, but didn't want to enter his mouth. She pulled away a little and looked deep into his eyes. Their noses were touching and their breathing labored. Ziva slowly took Tony's hands in her own, and led them up to cup her breasts through her bra. It was a test to see where things were heading, and her head fell back as her eyes closed when he began to circle her nipples with his thumbs.

Tony began kissing his way down her throat, as his hands unclasped her bra. He kissed each of her breasts before Ziva pulled his mouth back to hers. She unbuckled his belt and sent his pants along with his boxers to the floor. Tony did the same with hers, and they stepped out of them as he led her back to the bed.

When Ziva's legs hit the side of the bed, Tony gently laid her down. He took a mental picture of her lying horizontally in the middle of the bed, completely naked.

Ziva looked up at Tony, noticing the way he was looking at her. In that moment it seemed as it was just the two of them, and the rest of the world had melted away. When he held her gaze longer, she wondered what he was waiting for. Then, as if he read her thoughts, he climbed on top of her. His hands braced him above her; her hands were gently placed on his cheeks as they kissed intimately. His left leg was extended, while his right was bent to keep him from entering her too quickly. Her right leg was next to his left, skin on skin, and her left came and hooked around his back to press her heated core to massive erection.

A few moments later Ziva successfully made his right leg cave. Completely exposed, heated flesh to heated flesh, no barriers to hide behind.

Before Tony knew it he was flipped onto his back, eagerly seeking to join his lips to hers again.

Ziva made herself flip him. She was letting her emotions effect her, and she could not have that. Her heart kept beating faster and faster, while her brain kept trying to shake herself out of it. Get a hold of yourself Ziva! You are letting your emotions mix with your job! She rocked against him, effectively massaging her clit against his swollen head. She scooted back and straddled his thighs before lightly stroking him. Tony had to fist the bed sheets and keep his eyes squeezed shut so he wouldn't blow his load too early.

Watching herself work him, Ziva became more and more aroused. She was biting her lip to keep herself focused. He was just so massive.

Ziva couldn't take it anymore. She held him steady and sat up on her knees, positioning him at her entrance. Tony opened his eyes at that moment, only to be rewarded with the look of pure amazement that Ziva David had when she was being stretched to the max.

The way she was going so slowly was driving him crazy. Without thinking he grabbed her hips and thrust himself all the way into her. Ziva let out a very loud and breathy "Oh!" When she felt the pain mixed with pleasure attack her body. The pain was minimal, and the pleasure was the most intense thing she had ever felt. It filled every part of her entire body that she could barely breathe. They sat there for a moment, committing to memory what the other felt like.

When Ziva had fully engulfed him, Tony felt nothing but bliss. She was so tight that her walls fit him like a glove. He sucked in a breath, hoping it would delay his impending release.

Ziva placed her hands on Tony's chest to steady herself a little more. Her hips began slowly moving up and down, still trying to adjust and control her movements so that this wouldn't be over in a matter of seconds. Tony placed his hands on her hips, helping her build that even rhythm they both so desperately needed. An ear drum shattering moan came from the both of them when he pulled her all the way up until only his tip remained in her, and then forcefully pulled her back down.

There would be no more taking it slow now. Ziva's body racked with want as her movements became frantic and her muscles tightened even more.

His orgasm was at his fingertips, Tony knew. He didn't think Ziva was quite there yet though, so he began palming her breasts, igniting sparks in her that seemed to radiate all over her skin.

"Unnnhhh- Ah!" Ziva moaned as she tumbled over the edge. She had to grind her teeth to keep herself from screaming. What she did when she orgasmed was very private, and Ziva never shared it with assignments. It was almost impossible for her with Tony though. Ziva had never felt so invigorated and satisfied in her life.

The way she almost screamed when she came had Tony so in awe that he just had to hear that sound again. He grasped her hips and flipped them over so that he was on top before he started pounding into her fiercely, and with relentless urgency. He felt his belly swirling with built up tension demanding to be released every time he slammed into her.

Ziva was nowhere near coming down from her first high when her second orgasm took her. She felt her whole body shake and her head spin.

"Ohhhhh! Tony!" She screamed; her body now in complete control of her actions.

"Oh god… Unhhhh…." Tony groaned when his whole world erupted in a white rush of heat. The way Ziva's muscles clamped down on him when she came the first time was almost too much, there was no way he could escape the second. He felt himself swell inside of her before his hips pumped erratically.

Tony awoke to the sound of his cell phone buzzing in his pants, which were still on the floor. Ziva's nose was gently placed on his neck, her lips to his shoulder, her arm wrapped tightly around him like she never wanted to let go, and her nipples pressed firmly into his back. He grabbed the hand that was resting on his stomach and brought it up to his lips, kissing her fingertips, before slipping from her grip to answer the phone.

Completely naked, he crouched over his pants searching the pockets to stop the incessant buzzing. Ziva leaned up and admired his muscular form from the bed.

"Yes boss," Tony answered.

"Has she left the hotel at all?" Gibbs asked questioningly.

"No boss."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes boss, she's stayed in all night."

"All right then. We shot and killed someone in front of Ari's safe house in the black SUV that was in the video thinking it was Ari. Waiting on actual I.D."

"We? And what video?"

"I'll explain it when you get here, Jen should be calling Ziva shortly. You wait for her and then follow her to make sure she doesn't meet up with Ari, ya got it DiNozzo?"

"Yes boss."

Tony closed his phone when he heard the usual click from the other end. He stuffed his phone pack into one of the pockets before standing to stretch.

"Who was that?" Ziva questioned playfully, laying on her side and propped up on her elbow.

"Gibbs. Apparently he shot someone and needs me to help figure out whom. Director Shepard should be calling you in a minute." Tony replied sleepily, his body exhausted from the amazing high he had just experienced.

"Oh… You should shower then." Ziva said shortly as she slipped out of bed and crouched onto the floor where her bag was. Tony noticed the sudden change in her; how a minute ago her voice was teasing and playful, and now it was cold and shut off.

"Well Gibbs wants me to "follow" you back to the office. And shouldn't you shower first? I mean I can get ready in fifteen minutes. I don't know how long it takes you…"

"Just shower and get ready. I will not be far behind you."

"How are you supposed to get ready so quickly when you haven't even gotten the call?"

As if it were fate, the hotel room phone rang. Ziva pulled on some boy shorts and a camisole before rising to answer the phone. Tony didn't understand why she was putting clothes on when she was going to take them off to shower; he had all ready seen her naked.

"Shalom." Ziva answered, and with her eyes she told Tony to go get in the shower. He shook his head, and then went into the bathroom.

"I have some good news and bad news." Jen's voice came from the other line.

"What happened?"

Five minutes later Tony emerged from the shower with a white towel wrapped around his lean waist, water dripping off of him, steam emitting from his body. Ziva kept her eyes on the floor as she pushed past him, clutching her clothes to her chest as if to cover herself.

Tony opened his mouth to say something when his warm, wet arm brushed her bare one, but before he could the bathroom door slammed behind her. Ten minutes later Tony was dressed and fixing his hair when Ziva exited the bathroom fully clothed in the same thing she was wearing the day before.

As Ziva put on her shoes, Tony couldn't tear his eyes off of her. He didn't know why but he kept wanting her to say something, anything, instead of this silent treatment she was giving him. He kept trying to figure out why all of sudden she was so closed off.

"Ready to go?" Ziva asked.

"Yeah."

As everything was presented to Gibbs, Tony and Ziva watched each other. When no one was looking they would steal the most intimate glances. It was almost like they could see into each other's souls. A passing nod here, a brief glance here. Nothing could be more affectionate.

Ziva had just showered and laid down with her book when there was a knock at the door. When she opened it, there stood Tony in his same button shirt and jeans and his suit for the next day thrown over his shoulder. Ziva turned around and walked back into the bedroom with Tony following silently behind her. He paused to put his suit in the closet before entering the bedroom.

It was déjà vu from yesterday; Ziva sat against the headboard in her white camisole and boy shorts reading her book. Tony's eyes raked over her body before he laid down at the foot of the bed, his hands tucked neatly behind his head, Ziva's feet just barely touching his side.

"Has anyone ever annoyed you all the time? So much you wish sometimes they would just… disappear?" Tony asked, studying the patterns on the ceiling.

"Are we talking about Agent Todd?" Ziva pried carefully as she set her book on the night stand.

"Kate, and yes. It's just… You know Kate was beautiful, sexy, and a pretty good investigator. I'm a better one but anyway. Besides all those things, she never let me be just…me. Any time I said something provocative she was always right there, fighting me every step of the way. She could never just go with the flow. If we had a difficult case and I tried to lighten the mood, she would shut me down. It was times like those I wished she wasn't on our team." Tony rolled on to his side and looked at Ziva before continuing with, "Is that wrong?"

Ziva looked back at him intently before answering, "No. You just feel bad about it now that she is de-, gone. It is perfectly normal to have those feelings about someone who is frustrating you."

"Have you ever felt that way about someone?" Tony asked, scooting up so that his head laid on Ziva's stomach.

Ziva adjusted and placed her hand on Tony's cheek. Giving him a sad smile, she responded "Yes, with Tali. Tali had compassion, but sometimes it got the good of her-"

"Best of her." Tony corrected. Ziva just glared at him before continuing.

"Yes, as you said it. We went on a training mission once, where we had to take out a member of a terrorist cell. Our best defense was the element of surprise. We snuck into the apartment he was staying at with his lover and what looked to be his child. I cut the gas line and started to leave, but Tali could not just walk away with a child there. I did not feel comfortable with it either, but there was no way to get the child out without waking the man. Our training had taught us deal with it." Ziva's hand lazily stroked Tony's face and sometimes drifted up to his hair as she spoke. Her thumb ran softly across his lips before she said, "Just as I turned the door knob to leave, Tali crouched and tried to slip the little boy out from his mother's arms. The man awoke and grabbed his gun. He was about to pull the trigger when I shot him. Tali, the mother, the child, and I had just exited the apartment when it blew. We awoke a day later in the hospital. My Father said the injuries we sustained would be nothing to what we would have when he was done putting us through training again, and he had not lied. I hated her for a month after that. Two months later she was killed. Now I hate myself for ever feeling that way about her. I think about all the times she stuck her hand out for me, like the time my father almost caught me having sex in a weapon's carrier. Tali stopped him before he got to it and told him she was quitting Mossad. He railed her for two hours until she said she would not quit. All for the worst two minutes of my life."

Tony knew she had just dug up a lot of dark memories, so he focused on her last sentence to get her mind of it.

"Two minutes?" He questioned with his signature DiNozzo smirk.

"Yes. It was the first time for both of us. He finished before I had even stopped feeling pain."

They both laughed at that for a few minutes before Tony leaned up and placed a soft kiss to Ziva's lips. "Well I am sure you have better experiences with sex since then."

"Yes, lots of them." Ziva replied before kissing him again.

Before long both of them were stripped down to nothing but their underwear, tasting, groping, grinding. They kissed with such intensity that anyone would be amazed they had any air left in their lungs.

As Tony thrusted fiercely into Ziva's warm and willing body, one thought crossed both of their minds: This was the best experience with sex both of them had had.

"I need you back in the squad room." Gibbs' voice came from the phone. Tony was half awake and his brain barely focused.

"Wha-? Wh-? Is everything all right boss?" DiNozzo questioned groggily.

"I'll explain later. Just get here." Gibbs' commanded before hanging up. Tony shut his phone and set it on the nightstand before turning on his other side to see a naked and sleeping Ziva.

She was laying on her back, the sheet covering from her mid waist down, her hair strewn across the pillows. Besides her breasts being on open display, Tony's eyes were drawn to her chest to see if her breathing was even; letting him know whether she was asleep or awake. When he saw the change from slow and even to fast and short, he knew she was just waking up.

Pressing a soft kiss to her soft lips, Tony's hand drifted to the curve of Ziva's breast where his thumb stroked a lazy pattern.

"Mmmmmm…" Ziva moaned into his lips.

"That was Gibbs." Tony said when he pulled away for just a second before attaching their mouths together again.

Ziva slowly slipped her hand up Tony's stomach to his chest and then pushed him off of her before saying, "You should go."

Closing her eyes, she pulled the sheet up to her chin and flipped onto her side away from Tony. He sat up in the bed, looking at her back questioningly, as if to ask 'really?', mot understanding how they could go from sweet, sexy kisses, to her giving the cold shoulder. Hot and cold. He couldn't figure her out.

As he stood from the bed, Tony slipped on his boxers and made his way to the bathroom. He couldn't tear his eyes off of Ziva the whole time and when he reached the bathroom door with his suit in hand, he couldn't help but scoff at her pretending to be asleep.

When Ziva heard the bathroom door shut her eyes flew open and she rolled onto her back. Staring at the ceiling she took a deep breath and waited for the phone call she knew would be coming. The phone rang a few minutes later and she took another deep breath, silently praying there was no bad news.

"Hello?" He voice questioned, slightly raspy from all the screaming she had done in the past five hours.

"There is new information and I need you at NCIS head quarters as soon as possible." Jen commanded. Without even giving Ziva the chance to respond she ended the call.

Staring at the phone in her hand, Ziva could not believe how short Jen had just been with her. Whatever had happened was definitely not good. Throwing the covers off of herself she made her way to the bathroom.

To say Tony was surprised when Ziva joined him in the shower would be a huge understatement. He was letting the warm water run over his face when he felt the soft touch of her fingers grip his hips and her stomach press against his behind. She slowly guided him from the front of the shower to the back with no question and proceeded to give him the most glorious sight he'd ever seen. When he reached for the soap to wash then scent of them off his sculpted body she faced him and tilted her head back to spray of the shower head. Letting the water cascade down her body, Ziva ran her fingers through her hair to her shoulders and then over her breasts. Tony was transfixed; his eyes never wanting to focus anywhere else.

He finished before her, she was purposely taking a long time, and got dressed. When he was ready he left the room without a word.

Ziva entered the bull pen with a little hesitation. Yesterday was only easy to be around Tony because he and the rest of the team had to present all the information that had been gathered to Gibbs. Today she was going in blind though; she had no idea why she was here.

Tony was not shocked to see her here at all. Gibbs had met him at the elevator twenty minutes ago. All it took was for him to say was "The Peacemaker" and Tony's brain was there, like instantly. Deciding to break her out of whatever bubble she seemed to slip into after they had sex, he began with the heaviest piece of info he had.

"Hey so I know why Ari is actually here thanks to my extensive movie knowledge." He said as she made her way to McGee's desk.

"Really?" She asked in a disbelieving tone.

"The Peacemaker."

"I have never seen it."

"The Peacemaker? George Clooney. Nicole Kidman. Directed by Mimi Leder. Made it in '97. It's a real action flick. Clooney and Kidman have to find this stolen nuclear weapon before it's used by terrorists. I can't believe you never saw it."

"Where is Gibbs?" Ziva asked getting straight to the point. She did not need him explaining a movie to her. She needed to know what had happened.

"You know that's the first question you asked me when we met." Tony said with hurt expression on his face. Why was she so interested in him?

"No, the first question was were you having phone sex." She corrected. That statement had so much more meaning now.

"Ziva." Jen calls, and just like that she is up and walking out of their conversation even though he isn't ready for her to.

He keeps prodding her, trying to get more information about her life. He isn't sure why he wants to know so badly.

She leaves him to ask the one person who always has the answers: Gibbs.

"You are a broken tape Gibbs."

Ziva says, and Tony corrects her out of what seems like habit. His tone is defensive, but only because he does not like where this is going. His gut proves him right with the next things that are said.

"She profiled you for Ari." Jen says, and that's when it clicks. That's how she knew he was Italian.

"Not just the boss. That's how you knew where I was born and went to school." Tony's voice clearly shows that he's angry. When Ziva hears it she knows why he's angry and turns to look back at him to see the pain in his eyes. She tries to convey with her own eyes that what they had shared together the past two days was not just work. The tone of her voice betrays that though.

"Ari's missions involved NCIS. As his controller of course I did dossiers on everyone he might come interact with."

When Gibbs asks everyone to clear the room, Tony trudges his feet as if he was waiting for Ziva to defend her actions.

She throws her stuff down in preparation for the battle she knows is coming with Gibbs. She wants to talk to Tony, but she can't focus her mind on him right now.

Tony waits for them outside the lab. His anger has grown immensely in the last five minutes and he has to check himself when Gibbs walks out so he doesn't give anything away. Ziva tries to follow Gibbs into the elevator, but Tony grabs her by the wrist. He waits for the doors to close before he says anything.

"So what- The past two days, what were they about huh? That first night you approached me? What, was Ari going to frive by or something and you had to distract me?" Tony questions, his voice dripping with hurt and anger.

"Yes, and no…" Ziva began, trying to keep her emotions under control. She didn't like seeing Tony like this; it unnerved her.

"I knew it." Tony says in an almost whisper. He walks to the elevator and pushes the button.

"Tony, wait!" Ziva calls out as she tries to grab his arm. He shakes her off and steps into the elevator.

"No. That's all I was to you. Just a distraction." The elevator doors close and she feels like her heart is breaking.

She shoots Ari with no hesitation at all.

When she looks at him and starts crying, she does not know if it is for him, or for her, or for Tony.

On the plane Ziva's tears fall freely. They are silent tears, but continuous. She cannot seem to tear her eyes away from the body bag that contains he half brother.

"(Do not cry, little sister.)" Ari says as he sits next to her.

"(Shut up Ari.)" Ziva says. Her nose is running and her eyes are bloodshot.

"(You shot me and now you are telling me to shut up?)" He asks in a playful voice. That is the brother she has always known. The sweet, playful one. Not the cold monster he became.

"(I told him about Tali. I told him everything. I never shared that information with anyone, not even you. I got too attached. I deserve this." She says, and Ari is one gone again.

Tony calls Paula when he gets home from the funeral.

She isn't even through the door when his lips are on hers and he is trying to stick his tongue down her throat. Paula kisses him back with the same intensity and they make their way to the couch.

He doesn't feel anything. Nothing at all. A few months ago, hell even a few days ago there would have been sparks, but now her hair is too blonde, too short. Her lips aren't soft enough. Her breasts aren't the perfect handful. Her voice isn't deep enough.

If only he hadn't met that Israeli beauty.

Ziva heads to her favorite coffee shop when she gets through dealing with her father.

As she crosses the street she is reminded of how when she was very young Ari would grab her hand when they crossed the street, and let it go just as easily. A sad smile brushes across her face.

Later that night she dreams of her and Tony walking the streets of Tel Aviv smiling, hand in hand. She points to something and he kisses her sweetly. When he pulls away, a shot rings out and she sees a huge hole in his head.

She wakes up in a cold sweat, sobbing. She can feel her ribs press against her skin. That is when she decides she cannot stay in Tel Aviv. She needs to be in America.

She needs to be with him.

[fragilevixenfic]

hey!! could we have some smutty/fluffy spencer reid fic if ur comfortable?? 😀

Oh my gosh...I so hope I do this justice.

Summary: Dulce periculum translates to “danger is sweet”. Takes place nine months after the episode “…And in the End.”

Maxine and Spencer have continued seeing each other, in spite of the interference brought to the surface by Cat Adams. Spencer continues to work closely with the BAU after it nearly dismantled, with signature members scattering to the winds, leaving behind only a few, including himself, to keep working on their caseload. After a long, intense case, Spencer returns home to a little more than a can of worms.

Notes: “Seduce my mind and you can have my body, Find my soul and I’m yours forever.” – Anonymous

Note: I am nowhere near Spencer’s level of intellect but I hope I did him justice. I didn’t want it to be too smutty or too fluffy so I hope the angst didn’t overtake the story. I hope that I lived up to the request - this is my first foray into this world of Criminal Minds in spite of it being one of my FAVE shows. I adore these characters. This was an anonymous request via Tumblr, so go easy on me.

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

A modest demeanor arouses

Thoughts of seduction.

-Mason Cooley

9:30 PM

Spencer Reid’s Apartment

Washington DC

              Exhaustion had been a familiar friend for longer than Spencer wanted to admit as his keys stabbed at the keyhole, missing four or five times before finally intercepting and setting off the mechanism inside. Instinct had carried him home and pure adrenaline had kept him from losing the battle with gravity as balance was a cruel mistress that had him hanging by a thread. Twenty-six hours, fourteen minutes, thirteen seconds, and the time was still ticking away. That’s how long it had been since he’d slept and J.J. did her best to distract him long enough on the jet back from their case but, it only made her relaxed enough to pass out in mid-story. The white flag sailed as he watched her for a few moments, relieved over the reclamation of their friendship, and indulged in a Rossi-like activity by accepting that glass of single-malt from Alvez as the clouds moved by.

              The scent of books, old and new, wafted across his nostrils, ushering him over the threshold until the juniper paint, patterned wallpaper, and walnut wainscoting adjusted in his line of sight. It was home even if it hadn’t always inspired a feeling of comfort or care. Tonight, though, it was different, as the warm air nipped at his wrists and his Adam’s apple as he loosened his loudly patterned tie above the curve of his vest while he kicked out of his shoes. Spencer hadn’t considered himself the drinking type but he was eyeing a bottle of cabernet sauvignon from Sonoma Valley gifted to him by Garcia the week before she left. He’d made a promise that it wouldn’t just sit and collect dust but it had started to do just that as he looked at it nestled between a section of old Shakespearean collections.

              Poetically placed, he had figured, as he pulled the bottle from the shelf and smiled at the wine’s vintage of 1981. He chuckled over the choice of a wine from the year he was born and at the intentional way that Garcia knew how to appeal to his attention to detail. Missing her presence didn’t do it justice as he pulled his phone from his pocket, formulating the text to the bubbly woman that never ceased to put a smile on his face even at the darkest of times. She really had become his rock and kept him sane as the world seemed to be falling apart around him.

              I made you a promise when you gave this to me. I’m getting ready to pop the cork on this one.

              He snapped a picture of the bottle and sent it with the text, a smirk still resting on his lips as he pushed the phone into his pocket and glanced at the closed door behind him. It was quiet and lonely in the room, almost to the point of agony as he went to the stereo equipment in the corner, flipping through the albums until a Jazz compilation stood out. The cover was bright, loud even, and represented everything that Spencer wasn’t as he put the vinyl on and let the needle touch the ridged surface as it spun. The melody filled the room with just enough sound to be a murmur that played against his eardrums while he went to the kitchen in search of a corkscrew.

              The phone buzzed in his pocket and Penelope Garcia’s name lit up across the display as he took a peek, conjuring a smile that rivaled a first kiss as he pressed the speaker. “Garcia…You didn’t need to call me while I open the bottle.”

              “Nonsense, mon ami,” Garcia’s voice was refreshing and missed as he searched through a kitchen drawer that was uncharacteristically cluttered, rifling through everything. “Where’s that lovely girl Maxine? You should be popping that bottle with her not sitting there alone.”

              “I sent a text when I got back to DC but she hasn’t replied yet,” Spencer unearthed a corkscrew with a red handle from the mess and pushed the drawer closed, a confused look on his face as he went to work on the bottle. “I know that she was complicit in the Cat ordeal, but there are times that I feel as though it’s still hovering over our heads like a dark cloud.”

              “You’re literally the smartest man I know but you’re also the dumbest, Reid,” Garcia’s remark coaxed a scoff as he popped the cork free, the sound echoing in the nearly sterile kitchen as he let the bottle breathe. “Sometimes, you have to woo a woman even when she says you don’t need to woo her.”

              “Speaking of wooing…how are things with Alvez?” Spencer opened the curio and retrieved a squatty wine glass with a gold rim, a faint smile appearing as he carried it and the bottle into the living room. “Every time I inquire he threatens to take my sidearm and shoot me.”

              “Shut the front door…I wouldn’t have pegged him for a privacy guy,” Garcia’s laugh in Spencer’s ear was a welcomed distraction as he poured the wine and sank into a leather chair, the squish considerable as he felt it give beneath his backside. “We’re taking it slow. Dinner and movie nights every chance we get, nothing extravagant yet. I’m, shockingly, okay with it with respect to my relationship history.”

              “I’m absolutely overjoyed for you, Garcia,” Spencer took his first sip of the deep red liquid and let it wash over his palate for a moment before swallowing, appreciating the blend of flavor that his friend had picked for him. “As expected, the wine is exactly as it should be and more. Thank you.”

              “Oh, it’s good? I was worried that it would be too pungent with the vintage but something about it spoke to me and you know me. The louder the message, the quicker the grab,” Garcia couldn’t hide the excitement through the phone as her voice climbed a little higher while his eyes watched the bubble in the burgundy shade swirl. “You’re being honest, right?”

              “I’m a notoriously bad liar when it comes to you and I wouldn’t lie about a gift from you, Garcia,” Spencer was enraptured by the texture of the label on the bottle as he twisted it with the tips of his fingers as it sat against the top of the table next to him. “Drinking alone, though? I’m out of my element.”

              “You should call her, Spence,” Garcia’s tone softened as she referenced Maxine with a soft implication, tapping at the weaker parts of his psyche as he picked the glass back up and elevated it, before taking a sip. “It couldn’t hurt to have company. Just rip off the band-aid.”

              “It couldn’t hurt to have a lot of things but I seem to find new and exciting ways of ripping open a perfectly good suture,” Spencer was thinking of Maeve, haunted by her pale ghost to the point that he could almost see her visage standing at the window with a book open while delivering a pointed look that scolded him for even thinking of her right now. “I don’t know what to do without sounding like a desperate, lonely man.”

              “Desperate is kind of a subjective term for your situation, my philosophical friend,” Garcia had him curious and confused, which unsettled his stomach as he leaned against the armrest, elbow digging into the leather while the sigh hovered in his lungs. “No one should be alone unless that is what they actually want—and I don’t get the sense that you want to be alone.”

              Garcia had been right about him. Spencer Reid’s naiveté was oozing from his pores, lighting him up in neon as the air finally left his lips in a huff. A man could read every book ranging from the scientific methodology to the psychological qualities of beekeeping but it would not be enough to get by in a real-world situation. This wasn’t beekeeping and while hedonism could be quantified, it could not be taught. This was the one time that paying extra attention to Derek Morgan might’ve done him a little bit of good but he shied away from that kind of bravado back then. He could already picture the smirk on Derek Morgan’s face if he were present; the white flag flying to be shown the ways of natural masculinity that Spencer really never wanted to utilize.

              At least, he never wanted to until the flash of Maxine’s deep, mahogany eyes passed through his consciousness with that mysterious, playful smile that enraptured him.

              “That would involve her actually answering my calls or texts,” Spencer swallowed a considerable mouthful of the wine and tilted his head back, letting the vertebrae crack back into place with a satisfactory series of pops. “I haven’t heard back from her since yesterday when she called to tell me goodnight before we finished the final day in Chicago.”

              “Was your invitation a normal invitation or one of those signature Spencer Reid-style invitations buried in sarcasm and symbolism that only your closest friends might actually understand?” Garcia was tinkering away on her end as she let out a laugh and became an echo with a change to speaker. “You’re on speaker while I wrestle with a cork.”

              “It was a standard invite, I think,” Spencer wrinkled his nose and stood up, pacing the floor as the needle bounced against the stopper and the music came to a halt, muting the noise in the room. “Are you joining me in a glass via telephone?”

              “No, I’m letting it breathe before Luke gets here,” Garcia’s voice preceded the pop of the cork as Spencer switched the vinyl to an Annie

Lennox album in an effort to depart his typical mood. “We’re watching Hardware, drinking chardonnay, and eating fruit and cheese.”

              “You’re watching a horror film about androids?” Spencer had a smirk hiding on his lips as the androgynous, melodic vocals filled the room while he adjusted the curtains. “I wouldn’t have expected that from you.”

              “I lost a bet to Luke about the number of texts, emails, and phone calls he could squeeze in while on a case,” Garcia was reluctant with the admission as the comment had Spencer’s interest piqued fully. “He managed to nearly double the number that I said he’d do and he, literally, sent me a text that said, ‘I win, I win, I win’ like a six-year-old.”

              “So that’s why he was on the phone so much,” Spencer started to laugh as he recollected each moment that Alvez was on his cell phone while having a full-blown conversation with him, the realization that he was paying attention to Garcia absolutely hilarious as he let the pieces fall into place. “I’m glad you’re happy, Garcia.”

              “It’s been a long time coming, hasn’t it?” Garcia’s question blended perfectly with the distinct tapping against the door from the exterior hallway, bringing Spencer’s attention toward it without hesitation.

              “It really has,” Spencer got up, leaving the wine behind on the side table as the spirit of inquiry took over and encouraged his feet forward until his hand was at the lock to turn it.

              “Was that a knock at the door, Spence?” Garcia asked, the muddled reverberations of glass tapping together moving through the phone as she kept him on speaker.

              Spencer didn’t fully absorb the question as he clicked the deadbolt until it unlocked the door, the shift of the door vibrating against his palm as his equilibrium spun. Spencer’s anxiety jumped and his palms began to sweat as the subtle tapping of heels against the floor preceded the sigh that he could hear through the barrier between them. He had his conclusions as to who it was and the excitement was taking a backseat to the paranoia he couldn’t help but feel. Maxine hadn’t talked to him since the day before and her showing up to his apartment unannounced wasn’t one of her typical characteristics. It had him reeling as he opened the door to confirm his guesses as her brown eyes stared up at him beneath waves of dirty blond locks.

              “Hey,” Maxine’s voice was in that tenor between mousy and pointed as she tucked her hair behind her ears and rocked in her heels, folding her hands behind her back.

              “Hey,” Spencer bit down on his bottom lip until it hurt and felt the fog lift as he could hear Garcia saying his name in his ear. “Garcia, I’ll call you back. Have fun with Alvez and your wine night.”

              “Go get her, Tiger,” Garcia had an unmistakable perk in her voice before she hung up the phone, leaving Spencer with the cellular up near his face like a nervous teenage boy.

              “Are you going to let me in or is the plan to stare at me until I disappear?” Maxine exhaled slowly, her eyelashes fanning down then up as she slowly blinked.

              Spencer made a short, sweeping motion with his hand and moved to let her in, the hesitation written on his face as he furrowed his brow while closing the door. “You didn’t call. I wasn’t expecting to hear from you.”

              “Sometimes, I want to keep you guessing,” Maxine had been a subtle, welcomed surprise in his life but the tone in her voice was different as she leaned against the back of his sofa and narrowed her stare as he turned to look at her. “Can’t a girl be a little bit mysterious once in a while?”

              “That would intimate that there was a need for something titillating and I didn’t think we’d gotten to the point where things were boring,” Spencer swallowed hard, the mental processes rocking as her smile took shape and the curves of her cheeks softened that stare for a moment. “Have we?”

              “I didn’t say that,” Maxine coiled her index around the center button of his vest closure, lingering along the flat, pearl finish as she chewed the center of her lip and looked up at him. “I have moments where I can’t get it out of my head seeing her in your arms and I want to know if you think about it, too.”

              Spencer knew she was referencing Cat as he nearly swallowed his tongue and stepped away from her, moving toward the kitchen to retrieve another glass to offer her wine. “I think I need a refill…would you like a glass? It’s from Garcia.”

              “Sure,” Maxine had been taking notes, toying with Spencer in some way as she leaned against the armrest of the sofa and crossed her legs, perching there like an elegant bird as she studied his movements. “You’re not answering me which leads me to believe you have been thinking about her.”

              “I have a photographic memory, Max,” Spencer was pouring her a glass near his own, the contents of his dwindling bottle evident as it became lighter in his hand. “I’m incapable of not recollecting pieces of my history at any given moment of the day.”

              “You know that’s not what I mean, Spence,” Maxine’s tongue lingered on his name as she went to the record player and moved the needle until the downbeat of Annie Lennox’s “Cold” began filling the room. “I have eyes. I can tell myself on a daily basis that it wasn’t loaded but there has been a part of me that just wonders…”

Don’t I exist for you

Don’t I still live for you

(Cold, cold, cold)

              “You’re not her,” Spencer extended the glass of wine and watched her big, bright eyes track up his arm until they met a gaze they’d never seen before as a swallow nearly betrayed his cool exterior. “You don’t need to be.”

              Maxine took a sip and scrutinized his body language as he battled with nerves and a desire that hadn’t quite manifested all of the way in front of her yet. “I really want to believe you but I feel like I was just the safe choice to keep you from looking inward. I don’t want to be your crutch.”

              “You’re not a safe choice and you’re definitely not my crutch, Max,” Spencer’s tongue was loosening as he raised his glass to his lips, watching her from the rim until he tipped it to drink. “You have been so much more even though I’m the worst at elucidating it.”

              “I know that she’s dangerous and you seemed to like that about her,” Maxine pressed her lips together, mingling the wine with her lip gloss as she moved them gently back and forth while angling her chin down just a touch. “Saying what you mean really isn’t your forte…you should be trying your hand at showing it for a change.”

              The comment was loaded but Maxine wasn’t wrong about her observation as she blurred the line drawn in the sand with her toe, palming the glass as the distance between them seemed like miles. Spencer wanted to be gutsy and the wine was dulling the separation between bravery and stupidity as he held the bottle in the air, tilting it toward her like a peace offering. Maxine met him in the middle, letting him fill the glass until the last drops splashed into the deep, claret liquid. The sound of Annie Lennox over their mutual silence only added to a sense of anticipation between them as Spencer let the bottom of the bottle touch the top of the table with a resonating clink.

Dying is easy

It’s living that scares me to death

I could be so content

Hearing the sound of your breath

              “It’s a little pathetic that it took a couple glasses of wine to cross the proverbial bridge, Max,” Spencer nearly melted into the floor over her fingers around his tie as she tugged it loose from the deep green and gray woven blend of his vest. “Gives a whole new meaning to the words failure to launch, doesn’t it?”

              “I see no failure in anything going on but you’re definitely going to have to tell Garcia this wine is fabulous,” Maxine grinned from behind her glass, the warmth gathering at the back of her throat with each sip as she looked up at him. “You’re overthinking being here in front of me. Do I make you nervous, Spence?”

              “Only since the second I met you,” Spencer wouldn’t have ordinarily admitted it but the combination of the wine playing on his inhibitions and her free hand tugging his tie was more than enough to tip the scales. “You’re one of the few women that I’ve encountered that speaks her mind so freely and it never ceases to amaze me. It isn’t danger that I seek, though…I need you to know that.”

              “You’re talking around the subject as though you think I’ll be bruised by what you’ll say to me,” Maxine gave the satin material between her fingers a firm tug, bringing Spencer off balance as she elevated to the tips of her toes to nibble the curve of his lip, tasting the wine that had stayed behind. “Stop being afraid of the possibilities for once in your life.”

               The needle began to stutter against the center of the record player as Spencer elevated his glass to his lips, finishing the last drops in a final swallow. Reluctance nagged at him as he pulled his tie free and moved around to the extensive collection of vinyl, thumbing through until he found Annie’s album Medusa sticking out from a section of her others. It was something about the combination of wine, Maxine, and an impromptu confessional that had him desiring the sound of Annie Lennox crooning in the background. It was an odd thing, though, that he couldn’t remember the last time either of these records had been played, let alone the last time he wanted to keep hearing more than classical emanating from his speakers.

              “The curse of the romantic is a greed for dreams, an intensity of expectation that, in the end, diminishes the reality,” Spencer had her captivated as he managed to dull and heighten seduction in the same breath as he placed his glass next to the empty bottle of wine.

              “Marya Mannes?” Maxine still had a fair amount left of her drink in the glass as she eclipsed the distance and leaned against him, arching up to breathe against his neck. “All really great lovers are articulate, and verbal seduction is the surest road to actual seduction.”

              “I had thought about going with that one but I figured you’d see right through me,” Spencer was already identifying the notes of her perfume and body butter as she directed his chin down with her fingers while she extended her arm to put her glass down. “Is this why you didn’t text or call?”

              White tea, sage, a hint of citrus. The combination was intoxicating, but not overwhelming. Delicate and sophisticated, but not girly.

              “Talking myself into coming over here with a singular goal in mind and arguing with the resistance against it?” Maxine tasted his lips again, letting a kiss develop as she ran her fingers through his hair and steered his hand around her before looking into his hazel eyes. “Agonized all day over the potential for rejection.”

              “And now?” Spencer let her tug his jacket off and toss it aside, knocking over a stack of previously read novels on the coffee table in the process. “Feeling particularly brave or brave enough to get by?”

              “Actually, I’m contemplating the impracticality of seduction when one wears as many layers as you do,” Maxine laughed as she popped the buttons free on the vest, loosening his tie as the front of his shirt finally peeked out. “How long does it take to undress alone when you wear this much? You better not be wearing an undershirt like the prim and proper man I think you might be.”

              Spencer had a bright pink sheen to his cheeks as he fiddled with the delicate material of her cardigan, folding it open across her shoulders over the top of a chemise while his eyes stayed balanced on hers. “I don’t think I get dressed thinking I’m going to have anyone trying to seduce me. I thought this was a good, sensible choice for attire when I was arranging clothes for the week.”

              “The week?” Maxine’s lips curved into a grin as she loosened his tie and gave it a tug, freeing it from his collar in a smooth motion while she licked her lips and watched the nervousness form on his face. “You really are hyper-vigilant aren’t you?”

              Maxine beamed up at him as her thumbs slid underneath of the top of his vest, guiding it away from his arms until he was casual in nothing more than a linen shirt and his slacks with those dark, houndstooth patterned socks. Spencer was captivated but his analytical eye was paying attention to the little swell of her lip as it moved between her teeth between sharp inhales. Maxine was controlling her breaths and giving him ample opportunity to read her, learning the little things that drove her crazy even as she was trying to explore him and push his limits.

              “No, I’m a specific planner so I can fit everything in a suitcase with enough foresight to anticipate the possibility of a longer than normal trip,” Spencer was rationalizing his anal-retentive behavior while Maxine was halfway down the front of his shirt, undoing each button without taking her eyes off of his. “…you’re unusually deft with buttons, has anyone told you that?”

              “I don’t think I’ve ever heard that,” Maxine had him in a tailspin to the point that his rear bumped against a bookshelf as she curled her index to draw him forward. “I really am making you anxious. It’s written from the top of your head right down to your toes.”

              “I take it back, you are a little dangerous,” Spencer swallowed another knot of nervous energy, the cold air wafting across bare skin as the linen fell away from his chest and abdominal musculature, exposing the expanse of gooseflesh as the light caught the pale gleam of his skin. “I have officially sobered up.”

              “I have to find a way to keep it interesting,” Maxine had previously admired the constant politeness from Spencer but she wanted something more from him as she felt havering fingertips against her collarbone. “We’ve tiptoed around each other for long enough and we both have nothing to lose.”

              The soft declaration was an invitation and the fire in her eyes simply provided the spark as Spencer took that leap to pull her in, taking the lead. Studying the rhythm of her beating heart on nights they’d spent wrapped in each other’s arms on his couch watching an obscure movie together had given Spencer just enough ammunition of where begin and how to continue. Maxine had also begun to learn patterns of Spencer’s subtle bits of signaling, though, as she felt his hands down her arms, guiding the sleeves away from soft skin. She expected nothing less from him as his agonizingly sweet, tantalizing care with each part of her elevated the pace of her breath and pushed forth urgency as she watched him slip to his knees with each nibble of skin along her stomach.

              “You can’t tell me that you didn’t think about your outfit before you put it on, Max,” Spencer was pushing boundaries and hiking up her skirt, tugging at the nylons that were barely masking the natural porcelain skin that captivated him. “The material, the color…the fit…everything is has a purpose and my assumption is you changed clothes before you came here.”

              “Ah, fuck,” Maxine held onto the edge of the stereo stand as Spencer bit down on the space above her belly button and pulled her nylons down, pushing his fingertips against her skin to awaken the goosebumps. “I did. I had on jeans before and wanted something less, binding.”

              “We’re not so different, then, are we?” Spencer led her out of the sensible Mary Janes and finished the removal of her nylons while the lace-trimmed material of her panties peeked out from the bottom of her shoved up skirt. “You’re breathing really hard, should I stop?”

              “No, don’t stop, please, don’t stop,” Maxine breathed through a tight space between her lips as she gritted her teeth and gathered a fist full of his hair, holding him against her skin as his breath crept down, narrowing the fabric of her skirt into a bunched section at her hips. “Keep going.”

              Spencer smirked as he tilted his chin up, rubbing the five o’clock shadow of his jaw against her until the moan left her lips and her knees involuntarily parted. “Could do a study on the action versus reaction of my mildly unshaven face versus different parts of your body…using the pitch of your groans as a baseline.”

              “Oh, my God,” Maxine tossed her head back, narrowly missing a shelf of books behind her, the smile on her face as she felt the curve of his jaw move to her thighs, eliciting a lower, more drawn-out whimper. “How did you make that sound hot as fuck?”

              “Intelligence doesn’t have to inspire a chorus of yawning,” Spencer hadn’t had an opportunity to undress anyone in far too long but the feeling of Maxine’s goosebump covered flesh against his lips encouraged his hands to continue as the skirt was discarded onto the growing heap. “It can make you moan over and over.”

              “You are going to get so many complaints from your neighbors,” Maxine bit down on her lip as Spencer nibbled his way up her stomach, dragging fingers along the curve of her body until it met the soft layer of chemise to lift it away. “I want all of you…right now.”

              Rational, well-constructed thoughts and actions went out a window as Spencer stood, the material of Maxine’s chemise between his fingers as he felt her warmth radiating against his bare stomach. It had only been minutes and the tables had flipped as Maxine looked up at him with a growing throb between her thighs, an ache becoming a need as she moved her knee forward, rubbing his inner thigh with it. The wait had been worth it even as Spencer let Maxine tug the belt from the loops and pop a button from the thread in an eager attempt to free him from his confines. Spencer had a mind for painstaking enticement but Maxine was less-than-apt to follow along with his pace as her teeth found his collar on a shirt that didn’t belong on his uniquely-well-built frame, tugging him close.

              “Jesus…Christ,” Spencer uttered the words as a budding erection pushed against her while his slacks slid to his knees, trapping them together. “You’re going to wind up killing me.”

              “I don’t want to kill you, Spence,” Maxine bit her lip and made a gap between the elastic waistband of his shorts and his skin while gazing up at him. “I want you to finish what you’ve started.”

              Spencer’s eyes rolled as her index fingers grazed a flood of warmth as the erection continued to build, triggering an involuntary spasm as he squeezed her thigh and writhed the rest of the way out of his pants. Maxine gasped as Spencer’s eyes finally focused on hers and his grip slipped to her ass, giving her a decisive squeeze as the shelf behind her rattled again. Spencer covered a waiting moan with a fervent kiss, his tongue sliding beyond lips and teeth to find hers as one of his hands teased the satin and lace trim between her thighs. She was already soaked as his middle finger pressed the material along the tender flesh until he could feel the building twitch against his palm as she bucked against his hand.

              Maxine tossed her head back a second time and felt the cool air for a fleeting moment as Spencer guided the thin, wet material to one side to slip his middle finger inside of her. “Oh, my God, yes, yes, please!”

              “You’re so beautiful,” Spencer curled and withdrew his finger, repeating the motion as her moans directed toward the ceiling and echoed in the room. “The most cliché thing I could ever say while my finger is strumming but it’s so true—you are, so fucking beautiful.”

              “Sex…is…cliché…and, fuck, don’t you dare stop,” Maxine cooed and helped him along, covering his hand with her own while giving his hard on a not-so-subtle squeeze as she ground against him.

              Spencer wanted to shake the perfectly organized and categorized books free from their spot on the shelf as he shyly withdrew his finger and palm from her, the squeeze of her muscles grasping at him in his absence as he took a step back to admire her. Maxine let out a drawn-out whimper as she chewed her lip, watching his erection move against his boxers as he gave a final pull of his sleeves, rejecting the well-fitting linen onto the floor. There was a part of Spencer that didn’t want to rush as he watched her reach behind her back, the springy-click of her bra tapping against the well-constructed shelving behind her while she keened from the friction moving across her breasts. Maxine knew what she wanted and she was daring Spencer to move as he took another step forward, gliding the straps off of her shoulders then down her arms to reveal the ivory and flushed flesh that had been carefully hidden.

              Beautiful might not have accurately described her as her chest heaved and responded to his touch as he bent to kiss a trail along the curve of her neck while his digits teased the alabaster and pink of her breasts. Maxine had been waiting, impatiently, for his hands and lips to make their mark as he worked his way down her curves, sloping past eager nipples and a soft stomach as he neared an apex. Spencer’s eyes looked up at her as her tongue slid off to the side of her lips while she watched him move, her fingers weaving through his locks as he liberated her of her underwear in a smooth, downward motion.

              “Jesus, fuck, oh my God,” Maxine gripped his hair and the shelf at the same time as his mouth found wetness and his hand guided her leg higher, squeezing her thigh while he hummed against her lips, parting them with the flat of his tongue. “Spencer…I’m so close…”

              Spencer slipped a finger into Maxine’s wetness and felt a quiver from her muscles before the nerves tapped against him, clamping down as he moved along her clit, grazing the tender bundle with his fingers before circling with his tongue. She telegraphed the movement, matching the synchronicity as hips betrayed her and bucked against his face, stuttering the sound of a groan as he ignored a throb between his own legs. He wanted this for her and he wanted to hear her as a prelude to more. The moans scattered and became louder as his mouth mimicked the eagerness her body was conveying until he heard his name proclaimed, raggedly from her lips.

              “Do you need to stop?” Spencer’s erection would’ve been screaming if given a chance as he stood, licking the taste of her from his lips as she met his gaze. “I know that an orgasm can take a lot of energy out of most women.”

              Maxine shook her head slowly and glanced at the bulge as it bumped against her, the smile creeping across her lips as she stood up straight, reaching for him. “I’m not most women.”

              Spencer didn’t have time to let that comment absorb fully as the sensation of Maxine’s fingers wrapped around his cock was doing little for his processes, making every nerve over-fire as the cold air nipped at his backside. The electricity in the atmosphere increased as his shorts slid to his ankles, leaving nothing more between them than a breeze and the brewing heat from readied friction. The shelf didn’t stand a chance against their hedonism as Spencer guided Maxine’s legs around his hips, into a position that beckoned so much more than the intertwining of bodies. They collided and the space between them all but evaporated as Spencer thrust slow, burying himself inside of her as she came down to meet him.

              Mouths met and the shelf shuddered from the top to the bottom as Spencer manhandled Maxine, rocking her backside against a smooth edge until a stack of books came tumbling down from the top. The mutual moaning blended with a series of laughs as he cradled her ass, moving her away from the unstable mess they’d created before carrying her to the sofa. Maxine maneuvered her way onto him as they tumbled onto the cushions, straddling his thighs as she took charge of the motion, giving him no time to recover before riding him. They had become a touch graceless as Spencer held onto her thighs while she rocked and swiveled her hips, repeating his name in a series of whispers as the whimpers rivaled his.

              “I’m so close,” They both found the words as the murmur became a little closer to a wail.

              Spencer grasped her wrists and pulled her close, rolling uncoordinatedly onto the floor, knocking the throw pillows in every direction in the process, as he made a valiant attempt to switch positions. A laugh left Maxine’s lips as they met the rug with a thud but was replaced with a drawn-out moan as Spencer thrust deep and flicked his tongue across a nipple. It lit a spark as the thrusts could barely be met and the movements became frenzied with every little move he made while sweat began to glimmer across the surface of their skin. Maxine tilted her head back as the climax hit her in a rush and set off the one waiting in the wings from Spencer; the flood gates opened and the cries reverberated until their rhythm finally slowed.

              “I think I bruised my tailbone,” Maxine groaned as they stayed wrapped around each other on the floor, breathing hard as muscles continued to spasm while the room spun.

              Spencer snagged the pillows from their discarded roll before groping for the throw blanket on the edge of the couch to cover up with, glancing back at the mess of books that were now all over the floor across the room. “It’s going to take at least an hour to re-organize that shelf.”

@rationalcashew @monikafilefan I know this is not our normal but...ahhhh

Oh, I should tag @nerys2 @blameitonthenight21 @haleydiamondis since they liked the post I made about Spencer :)

[band-of-bitches]

The 6th and final part to Kirsten’s reaction/first impressions to the Band of Brothers boys! Links to the other parts at the end. Enjoy!

(I’m am pink and Kirsten is blue)

Next boy!

Diversity!!!

Actually no

What? What is he then?

honestly I have no idea

He’s not white and that’s good enough for me!

*laughing*

He’s very cute....that’s all I have to say *laughing*

Like, he’s double take cute (looking at someone on the street then looking again) but if you really like him he’s unicorn cute (you can’t stop looking at them)

I have nothing else to say

What do you think his name is though?

He’s name....is William

Everyone is a William!

Idk why there are just so many people who look nice and nice people are named William *snorts*

Okay his name is Frank Perconte oh

He’s Italian

He’s Italian?

*seductively* I like Italian men ;)

*snorts* spicy

His hair is nice!

 -

Here is the next boy

He looks like a dick.

*EXTREMELY OFFENDED GASP. I HAVE NEVER GASPED LOUDER THAN I HAVE HERE*

(while i’m still gasping) I’m so sorry! He looks like a dick!

You just made SO MANY ENEMIES

Like okay, okay, can they (ya’ll) really blame me if I don’t know what he is like personality wise and he looks like a dick? *still pissed of face* He doesn’t have to be a dick, but he looks like it.

*whispering* i can’t believe you just said that

Don��t do the gasp with your hand on your mouth! He looks like a dick what can i say?

This is Darryl “Shifty” Powers I’m sorry! This is the “legally can’t say fuck” boy!

He’s a cinnamon roll?!?

He’s the cinnamon roll.

Hold up watch this YouTube video. He has a very soft voice.

*shows her the scene where he’s talking to winters*

*gasps*

*laughing*

*mimicking the scene* “it’s been a long time....since I found love and you’re it (“you” being Shifty lol)

*laughing more*

This changes everything

He’s a cinnamon role!

-

He looks evil *laughing*

He looks evil like just by looking at these photos you can’t blame me for thinking he looks evil

Okay, name?

He looks like a Dick.

*annoyed* oh my lord what’s his name though?

DICK

Oh, like actually Dick

Yeah but not even Richard, just Dick *laughing*

If I’m being honest here I don’t even know his first name. Just his last name and nickname

FAKE FAN

SHUT UP 

FAKE FAN

His name is Skinny.

Skinny?

yeah

okay then

-

He looks soft!

If I’m being honest out of all the boys i’ve shown you this guy probably gets the least amount of screen time

I just want to squish his face. He looks so sweet!...his name is James

Like James Schmidt?

*small gasp* no.

*snorts*

Like a Jamie, James, not James Schmidt (boy from our school who we are not huge fans of, that’s also not his actual last name but it’s pretty close)

He looks scared aw I’m sorry baby :(

His name is Alex Penkala

He looks like a Alex, is he Italian? Maybe

like i said...I like Italian men ;)

*laughing*

-

You might recognize this face

*very long silence*

Did you ever watch supernatural?

I mean, not much but yeah

Oh okay this is Gabriel from Supernatural

I didn’t watch much but I do know a strange amount of Supernatural happenings.

Do you know about Archangel Gabriel?

I know that the Dad left the two brothers in a cabin with Spaghetti o’s, and then the younger brother was like “I don’t want Spaghetti o’s!” and the older brother was like “but you asked for spaghetti o’s!” and then he was like “just throw it away!” and then they go to a buffet and he was like “eat everything!” and then the younger brother was like “what the heck?” but the older brother was probably just stuffing his face because he grew up with food insecurity and the younger brother didn’t grow up with food insecurity because the older brother always fed him.

*long silence. Very long silence. I stared at her for a very long time*

....So what do you think his name is!

OH YEAH *laughing* His name is Gabriel.

FUCK YOU 

*laughing*

*laughing as well*

Okay for real though

He looks like Jane from Tarzan

*snorts* He looks like Jane and not Tarzan?

Look how he’s holding the book he’s like “look I’m so smart” *laughing* “Look at me be dainty and womanly.”

Wanna know his real name? yeah it’s Skip Muck

Skip Muck?

Yeah

How did he get that nickname? How does one get that Nickname?

I don’t know how anyone get’s there nickname, like I don’t know why Babe is Babe’s nickname-

Because he’s a babe!

*laughing*

How did ghonnorea get his nickname then huh?

Cause he’s hot enough to get the possibility of ghonnorea 

*laughing*

Also, Penkala, Muck and Malarkey are like A thruple? *laughing*

Yeah, they’re a thruple. No, they’re like best friends

Well, you know how historians are with male historical figures. And they all lived in this big mansion and shared one bed....but they’re bros

*Laughing*

They be homies

-

Okay, that’s all the boys!

We’re done?

We’re done!

Wow. Well, goodbye Tumblr. and just so ya’ll know, I may be a whore, but only for Speirs *laughing*

GOODNIGHT!

-

FINALLY DONE YA’LL. It’s sad to know I’m done with these, but i’m also excited because I’m going to be doing Kirsten's actual reactions to the show now! It will be a like it was with my mom, but longer most likely, and I’ll be doing all the episodes this time, so ten parts!

Also, I didn’t realize this until we started watching but I forgot to do some of the boys like Martin and Bull :(

Just a bit of a spoiler, but Kirsten REALLY likes Bull lol.

Thanks ya’ll!

Part one, two, three, four, five

[dabiensworld]

"please stay"

Huge thank you for @ladysantebellum and @fallonsliam for giving me an opportunity to express myself and the best work they did with organizing this event. I suck when it comes to tumblr so it isn't look so pretty as I want but I hope you will enjoy the content.

They came back to the Manor from The La Perla party. It was just after 11 pm. The night wasn’t perfect, her mother’s presence and Jeff Colby weren’t the perfect addition to the perfect first date, but Fallon had fun with Liam tonight, but obviously Liam didn’t. Something definitely was on his mind what made him sad and pensive.

“It was really nice evening.” Fallon said with gentle yet seductive smile on her face.

“ Yes, it was.” Liam answered, but Fallon could sense that something was wrong with him. Liam mumbled something what sounds like “goodnight”, he kissed her cheek and then he turned around and went to his room. Fallon walked into her room and closed the door behind her. She didn’t know what went wrong. She was lovely and sexy and she didn’t say anything stupid like she used to when she was around boys she likes. And she definitely likes Liam and she thought he liked her too.

Fallon took a quick shower, dried her hair and she put on lingerie, nothing sexy, just classic but this could affect Liam’s imagination. She went to his room. The door was partly open. She opened it and walked into.

“Knock knock.” she said with a smile, but that what she saw wiped the smile from her face. He was packing his things.

“ What are you doing?”

“ I’m packing.” Liam looked like a child caught on candy’s stealing. He didn’t expect Fallon at this time.

“ Our contract is clearly saying that I should leave the manor till midnight. It’s almost 12.30 am so I need to hurry up cause I missed deadline.” he quickly came back to being charming and amusing.

“ Don’t worry, I won’t call out our bodyguards to throw you out of the gate. You can stay here till morning.” Fallon smiled widely and sat on a bed.

“ You also can finish packing at the morning. “ Fallon added so that there would be no awkward silence between them.

“Thanks Fallon, but I’d rather do it right now. In the morning I will make sure I took everything.” Liam came closer to bed and looked at Fallon. She was thinking that he wanted to touch her or maybe even kissed her and then it hit her. She realized she was sitting on his clothes. She stood up and sat next to them. She felt her cheeks blushed. She is Fallon Carrington, she’s never blushed. But the heat of her skin proved that she wasn’t completely herself when Liam Ridley was near. But he seemed to not seeing her shame, he was still absorbed in packing his stuff.

“ You wanted to leave without saying goodbye, didn’t you?” she said sadly and when he raised his head, she knew he could sense the sadness in her voice.

“No, of course not.” he replied but this was the most dishonest answer she’s ever heard.

“Liar.” Fallon felt a metaphorical needle sticking into her heart. She’s never felt it before. Not even with Culhane, but with guy whom she knows a few days.

“ I wouldn’t go without goodbye.” Liam stopped packing,set his backpack on the floor and sat next to her on the bed.

“ I could not do it to you. But I think we both know it’s time for me to go.”

“ Didn’t you enjoy our date?” she knew she sounded a little bit desperate but she didn’t care about it then.

“ I did Fallon, really. I did enjoy our date. It was a wonderful night and also the last couple of days.” maybe unconsciously but he laid his hand on hers and squeezed.

“ So what is wrong?” she said. She looked deeply into Liam’s eyes. Her sight let him know that she would know when he would lie again. He took a deep breath and said.

“ I started to feel something for you Fallon. Seriously. I don’t know what exactly it is but I know it’s something.”

Fallon couldn’t see herself but she was sure her eyes were shining and her face was more red than before. She smiled shyly. Liam’s face was completely different. He didn’t blush like a virgin teenager. His face was tense and Fallon could barely read any emotions from it. He squeezed her hand more tightly.

“ Also I know that I couldn’t start nothing serious with you knowing that I lied to you since the beginning.”

“ What are you talking about? Is it a joke?” Fallon wrenched her hand free.

“ That woman, who we met in church on your grandfather’s funeral had right. She was old coworker of my parents John and Laura. “

“ Wait a minute.” Fallon stood up and came closer to the windows. “ That means your name is…”

“Jack” Liam said. He wanted to get closer to her but she stepped back.

“ Why did you lie in the courthouse that you are Liam Ridley? “ she reached her hand in front of her to let him understand that she didn’t want him to get closer to her.

“ I didn’t. “ Liam knew he screwed up and Fallon was angry at him. He needed to calm her down and made her listen to him.

“ Please, let me explain everything.” he stepped away to give her space.

“ You have two minutes. “ she folded her arms.

“ Please sit down” Liam came to her and he pointed to the bed. She decided to sit but she tried to avoid his touch. Liam understood her intention and kept his distance. Fallon sat on the bed and crossed her legs. She sent him eloquent look to let him know he could start talking.

“ Clock is ticking, one minutes left.”

“ Okay “ he sighed and he knelt in front of her. Fallon recalled her business class about body language.

He gave her a sign humbling himself before her that he gave up his resistance and he wanted to be completely honest with her.

“ My full name is Jack Liam Ridley Lowden Van Kirk. My parents are John Lowden and Laura Van Kirk - shareholders of Van Kirk Industries in New York.” Fallon raised her eyebrows and she looked at Liam’s face and it seemed like he didn’t lie. She heard about Van Kirks. They are rich and powerful like Carringtons, some big and small scandals. Maybe she even heard about his Liam’s parents, maybe Blake met them a couple years ago.

“ Okay but why you introduced yourself as Liam Ridley?”

“ I changed my name a few years ago. My family’s mess very complicated my career and also my personal life. I’ve decided to cut myself off of them, started new life with new name and crystal clear card in Atlanta. Now I’m officially Liam Ridley. But some people still know me as Jack Lowden. People like Julia Haart or...”

“ Julia knows who you are?” she interrupted his sentence in half a word.

“ She does. I worked with her company last year during the promotion for Vanity Fair. That’s why I’ve acted that weird. I was afraid that someone would ask you about me.” he really wanted her to believe his words but he knew it’s all sound like a crazy story from stupid Hallmark movie.

“ So you didn’t want me to know who you truly are?” she was definitely disappointed. Another man in her life who failed her.

“ Honestly I didn’t. But not because I wanted to lie you. It’s because this is my real life. You’re part of Liam Ridley’s life, not Jack Lowden. I just didn’t expect this whatever is between us will survive. It was supposed to be for one day and then we would go our separate ways. ” he laid his hands on hers and squeezed them. It took several seconds before he could raised his head and looked into her eyes and it took another several minutes for either of them to break the silence.

“ You know how insane your story sounds? “ he didn’t see tears in her eyes but he could hear how her voice broke.

“ Trust me I would sound more insane if I told you this story the day we met on the bench.” it was funny that he asked her to trust him. He was totally sure he’s the last person on Fallon Carrington’s trust list.

“ Anyway, I will take the rest of my stuff and go. I will not impose you anymore.” he released her hand and stood up.

“ Wait.” she said and stood between him and door. Liam was a little bit disorientated.

“ Look I appreciate that you told me the truth about your past and I understand why you didn’t tell me about it before, because it’s almost intimate and I’m like a stranger for you while you are my husband and I am your wife. Or was… It’s past midnight. “ Fallon felt stupid right now and she was talking through her hat, but she realized something. She realized she wasn’t ready to let Liam Ridley go.

“ Anyway you lied to me and you made me think that I am hopeless date, which I’m a great date, but it isn’t the worst thing someone did to me and I feel I can forget you, because you don’t know so many things about me too but you can know if you want to. And I totally feel that I’m talking bullshit. And I always talk like this when I’m talking with a guy I like.” Fallon said with clenched teeth. She was sure she was as red as a tomato and she probably embarrassed herself. But she felt light too. It was the first time she told someone she liked how she felt and it was a great feeling. She was also happy this person was Liam.

“ I like you Liam… Or Jack… But I’d rather call you Liam. I like you. “ she said it twice, in less than one minute, in the same sentence. Fallon never believes she was able to do it. What this man is doing to her?

“ I like you too Fallon Carrington.” Liam answered. His eyes were full of happiness and relief. He touched her chin and closed his mouth to hers and kissed her. It was only their second kiss but Fallon knew that the taste of his lips was her favorite. He broke it and she smiled and giggled like a little girl.

“ I’m not going to keep you in the Manor, you can go back to your place. But I really want to know you better and you to know me better. Please stay, stay in my life.”

[inevitably-johnlocked]

hi steph! i hope your having a lovely day! do you have any fics with a lot of pining/sexual tension? those are the best. thanks so much!!

Hi Lovely!!

AHHH I love LOVE Pining and UST fics!! I’ve actually made a few lists in the past (which I’ve linked below) so you can check those ones out for additional posts! I’ll just stick with the Mutual Pining (since I have a lot) and put UST on a separate list next time I get asked for it :D

MUTUAL PINING

See also:

Pining Sherlock || [MOBILE FRIENDLY VERSION]

John Marries and Sherlock Admits his Feelings

John Realizes How Important Sherlock is To Him

Jealous & Possessive Sherlock 

Jealous John 

Jealous John Pt. 2 and Jealous Sherlock Pt 2

Human Error by YakuzaDog (G, 571 w. || HLV Missing Scene, Angst) – Sherlock goes on a brief shopping trip.

The Hollow Man by HHarris (G, 639 w. || John’s Chair, Introspection, Sherlock’s Big Feelings™, Post TRF, Angst, Emotional Turmoil, POV Sherlock) – Still reeling from the apparent loss of his one and only friend, Sherlock returns to 221B for the first time after the events of The Reichenbach Fall.

This Kiss by suitesamba (T, 731 w. || Humour, Drunkenness, Angst, Stag Night) – Stag Night - back at 221B - in a world where Mrs. Hudson doesn’t interrupt the guessing game with the client. Part 1 of The “This” Series

Something Old, Something New by Aztecwarfareandcrumping (K, 778 w. || H/C, Angst, Pining) – Sherlock and John share a quiet moment before John’s wedding.

Memory by Pipsy (K, 1,206 w. || Angst, TRF Hiatus, Pining) - A short ficlet looking into the lives of John and Sherlock after the Fall. Short and painful.

L'Esprit D'Escalier by TheSoulOfAStrawberry (K, 2,011 w. || Ace Sherlock, Romance, H/C, Pining) – A lack of understanding leads to a misunderstanding, which in turn leads to two confused men dealing with something they should have sorted out earlier, rather than on John’s wedding day.

Journal of Truths by Goddess_of_the_Night (T, 2,317 w. || Post-HLV / TAB, Pining, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, Love Letters, Declarations of Love) – When John escorts Sherlock back to Baker Street from the tarmac, he discovers a journal that Sherlock has kept secret…that he has kept secrets in.

The Importance of Torn Papers by MyLittleCornerOfSherlock (G, 2,427 w || Pre-Slash, Love Declarations, Fluff) – Little things make a big difference, even little notes of thanks. Small reminders to show he cares.

Where You Are by Mazarin221b (E, 2,478 w. || Beach Sex, First Time, Fluff, Smut, Holidays, Pining) – He can admit he’s secretly a little glad Sherlock didn’t come with him. He needs a break. Sherlock is a handful at the best of times, and the near-constant apologizing, fixing, dealing-with, and following up on is exhausting. The near-constant unrequited attraction is a bit exhausting, too, to be honest, and John could really use a tiny bit of rest from the relentless hammering on his brain and heart.

Extraordinary by ardenteurophile (T, 2,739 w. || Angst, Pining, Romance, Second Person POV Sherlock, Pre-Slash) – Sherlock tries to understand his preoccupation with one Doctor John Watson - the one case he can never solve.

Unspoken by PipMer (T, 2,770 w. || Drugged John, Mutual Pining, John’s Missing Wednesday, Fluff & Angst, Canon Compliant, Gap Filler) – Sherlock wanted to test a hypothesis. About John. He wanted a question answered that he couldn’t just ask, at least not under normal conditions, because John would never tell him the truth about that.

BBCSH ‘How To Save A Life’ by tigersilver (T, 2,784 w. || First Kiss, Angsty Schmoop, Requited Love) – Pining, requited, and unabated spates of ‘first kiss’ fluff. Post Mary, AU, mildly cracky. John lays a smooch on Sherlock’s nape in passing. The world does that thing it does when it wobbles and Sherlock practically falls off his own pins. Part 1 of ‘How To…’

Until the End of the World by SarahCat1717 (G, 3,049 w. || Angst, First Kiss, Pining, Drunkenness) – Taking place in Season 3, John listens to an old favourite song and sorts through his memories and feelings about Sherlock and Mary.

The Sweetest Taste In The World by crossroads (G, 3,121 w. || First Kiss, Jealous Sherlock, Fluff, Pining, Friends to Lovers) – The sweetest taste in the world is rarely ever the easiest to come by.

Out of Time by westernredcedar (T, 3,163 w. || Wedding, Angst, Pining John, Sad Ending) – Somerset is a lovely place for a wedding, but what John hadn’t accounted for was the getting everyone there.

Entanglement by orphan_account (G, 3,218 w.|| Confessions, Physics, Metaphors, Texting, Pining, Christmas, Mind Palace, Sick Fic, Fluff, Humour) - On Christmas Eve, snow covers London, John visits Harry, and Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson untangle some knots.

Atrium by kali_asleep (T, 3,460 w. || 5+1, Valentines Day, Fluff & Schmoop, First Kiss) – Five times Sherlock gave John his heart, and the one time Sherlock got a heart in return (literally)

Posh Boy by panickedbee (M, 3,622 w. || Kinks, RST, Pining, Sexual Frustation) – In his head he greets him with hey, handsome in the morning, calls him genius when he is being too clever again, calls him pretty man and silly git and sweetheart and, of course, posh boy. Part 5 of Sherlock Holmes Is A Very Lucky Man

nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands by miss_frankenstein (T, 3,731 w. || Kissing in the Rain, Angst With Happy Ending) – In which John and Sherlock finally confront their feelings for each other - as only they would do - in the pouring rain.

Come home. by hudders-and-hiddles (huddersandhiddles) (E, 3,763 w. || Texting / Sexting, Lonely Sherlock, Nude Photos, Pining, Fluff & Smut) – When John leaves for a medical conference, Sherlock tries to entice him back home.

Tell Me a Secret, Sherlock Holmes. by DaringlyDomestic (NR, 3,880 w. || Love Confessions, Truth or Dare, Smut, Gentle Explicit Love, Microscopic Angst) – John’s voice is low and seductive, sending a shiver of want crackling through his stomach. Sherlock’s heart beats frantically against his ribcage, and his breathing grows fast as he feels John’s lips flutter against the sensitive skin of his neck. The kiss, if it could really be called that, is so quick and so light that Sherlock is almost convinced he had imagined it. Part 9 of Tumblr Drabble Challenge

Water Is Another Matter by cathedral_carver (T, 3,903 w. || Sick Fic, Pining, First Kiss, Heat Wave) – He thinks it’s in trouble, his poor heart.

Five Times John Cooked Something with Peas and One First Kiss by 221b_careful_what_you_wish_for (T, 3,915 w. || 5 and Ones, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Cooking / Food, Sick Sherlock, Music, Domestic Fluff, First Kiss) – After John cooks five dinners that slowly reveal their hunger for each other, Sherlock and John finally share a first kiss.

Christmas at Holmes Cottage by johnlockedstarkid (G, 4,295 w. || Christmas, Fake Relationship, Love Confessions, Holmes Family, Pining, Kisses, Fluff, Allusions to Mystrade) – Sherlock doesn’t want to have to deal with his mother’s wishes for him to find a partner when he goes to visit them for Christmas, so asks John to pose as his boyfriend. Little does he know he’s not the only one who wishes that the relationship could be real.

But Tonight You Belong to Me by esplanade (T, 4,296 w. || Fluff & Angst, Pining, Stag Night) – “You. It’s always you. John Watson, you keep me right.”

The Sum of His Parts by CommonNonsense (T, 4,311 w. || Body Worship, First Kiss / Time) – There are eleven major organ systems in the human body. Sherlock knows about all of them to some degree, but none fascinate him as much as the ones that make up John Watson.

The Dance Lesson by bittergreens (G, 4,596 w. || TSo3 Missing Scene, Dancing, Pining Sherlock, URT/UST, Romance, Angst, POV John) – Sherlock teaches John to dip. Part 1 of Goodnight, Vienna

Sway by CrackedMetal (K+, 4,602 w. || Romance, Drama, Dancing, Mary is Nice, Canon Divergence, Song Fic) – Sherlock doesn’t leave the reception and Mary wants the best friends to have a moment to talk… So she suggests a dance. Johnlock with a side of John/Mary.

There’s Something Living in These Lines by teahigh (orphan_account) (M, 4,676 w. || Pining, Angst, Love Letters, UST, Dirty Talk, Hiatus) – Two men, complete opposites in almost every way, who speak only in letters and pages torn from books.

Confessions by crimsonwinter (T, 4,711 w. || Love Confessions, Fluff) – John and Sherlock finally confess their love for each other.

You Can’t Always Get What You Want by hubblegleeflower (E, 4,804 w. || Pining, Sexual Tension, UST / RST, First Time) – John wants. He always has, but now that he’s living with Sherlock again, it’s all he can do to hold it back. And Sherlock isn’t helping…

Wasted Hours by songlin (E, 4,973 w. || Omegaverse || O!John/A!Sherlock, Pining, UST, Angst & Porn) – John is respectful. John keeps his distance. He doesn’t look at Sherlock when Sherlock decides trousers are for dull people. He doesn’t breathe in and savor it when Sherlock flings himself onto the couch first thing in the morning, wafting alpha scent, dressing gown settling around him in a cloud of blue silk. He doesn’t linger when he’s piecing Sherlock back together after a fight, even though he’s half-dressed and beautiful and right there. He can ignore it. He can control it.

The Heart On Your Sleeve by flawedamythyst (T, 5,441 w. || Soulmate AU || Sherlock POV, Heartmarks, Pining, Fluff and Angst, Semi-S1 / S2 Canon Compliant, Reunion) – Sherlock stared at the imperfect circle on his left wrist in horror, then sat down on his bed with a bit of a thump. After over thirty years, his heartmark was finally showing activity. This was not good.

Adjacent by weeesi (E, 5,711 w. || Bed Sharing, Fluff and Smut, Pining Idiots, On a Trip, Frottage) – Sherlock and John spend the night at a hotel in adjoining rooms, and keep finding excuses to visit each other’s rooms, until WHOOPS they’re sharing a bed.

No Light, No Light (in your bright blue eyes) by orphan_account (G, 5,915 w. || Angst, Pining, Songfic, Mutual Unrequited Love, Unresolved Tension) – Relates to both Sherlock’s and John’s feelings for each other and highlights select moments of hurt and inner turmoil starting from right before the fall all the way to HLV.

Thirty Three Hours Without John Watson by Bookaholic, mybrotherharry (M, 6,232 w. || First Kiss / Time, Pining Idiots, BG Mystrade, Crackish) – Sherlock can SO TOTALLY survive without John Watson. It should be a piece of cake. AKA the time when Sherlock braved grocery store lines for milk, purchased and gave away a box of tampons and figured out what the X-Factor is. Greg and Mycroft didn’t sign up for this shit. Next time, they are going to the Bahamas.

The Strait of Juan de Fuca by mightypog (T, 6,400 w. || Vacation, Love Confessions, Friends to Lovers, Canada, Post-TRF, Love Confessions) – Sherlock is back and all seems forgiven, but something is missing between him and John. Their friendship initially appears intact, but Sherlock doesn’t understand why John seems to be slipping away. Finally, in terror, he tries to reconnect with John by taking him to the one place that seems to inspire any emotional interest in John any more: the Canadian wilderness. While there, Sherlock faces his greatest fear.

Same Same But Different by Kerkerian-Horizon (K+, 6,435 w. || Friendship, Angst, Post-TRF, Gladstone, John/Mary, Christmas, No Slash) – After Sherlock’s return, a lot of things have changed, things the detective has to learn to contend with- or rather, to accept. A sometime-post-Reichenbach story in two parts, no male pairing. Contains Mary, the puppy Gladstone and Christmas as well.

Laid Bare by esplanade (T, 6,529 w. || Romance, Fluff, Pining, Angst) – “I suppose it comes as no surprise that I always rather detested grand romantic gestures. They struck me as unnecessary and contrived, feeble attempts at desperately holding together relationships, most of which should have been allowed to fall apart.”

The space between by Salambo06 (E, 6,830 w. || PWP, Friends to Lovers, Masturbation, Virgin Sherlock, First Time, Miscommunications, Bottom Sherlock, Mutual Pining, Sexual Fantasy) – “It’s for a case,” Sherlock says as soon as John looks down at his computer. John remains silent for a long moment, eyes moving from the screen to Sherlock, before saying, “You don’t have to explain.” His voice is low, too low, and Sherlock looks at the computer, putting the video on pause. “Lestrade asked me-, no, forced me to find out who’s threatening a famous porn star, and the suspect is among his co-stars, so I only need to watch out for any signs from his partners, anything that might show they’re the one sending those threats and I can move to something else.” “Right.”

The T-Shirt Thief by allroadsleadbacktobakerstreet (T, 7,968 w. || Mutual Pining, Post Canon Fix It, Dev. Rel., First Kiss, Domestics) – Sherlock steals John’s t-shirt from the laundry. John catches him wearing it one evening, fluff ensues with an endeared yet teasing John?

On the Losing Side by missselene (E, 8,210 w. || Anal / Oral, First Kiss / Time, Angst, Misunderstandings, Mild Dub Con) – After Mary’s death, John moves back into Baker Street, but is still upset at the loss of his wife and child. Eventually, he and Sherlock stumble into a sort of relationship, but it’s more physical than anything and they don’t talk about it. They especially don’t talk during sex. If they are going to have sex, Sherlock notices the signs hours beforehand, and he prepares carefully. The lights are off, they’re under the covers, he prepares himself using lots of lube so he can make it feel as much like a woman as he can, and he doesn’t let himself make any noise so that, if John wishes, he can pretend that he’s still with Mary.

Every Night I Look for You by destinationtoast (E, 8,377 w. || Post-TRF, Angst, Mystery, Unsafe Sex, BAMF John) – Every night, John looks for familiar hints of Sherlock in the men he meets in bars, and he does with them all the things he wishes he’d done before. Eventually, he stumbles into a situation that Sherlock would know how to handle, and John must decide whether he can handle it without him.

High Tide by stardust_made (T, 8,540 w. || Jealousy, Angst, First Kiss) – A little favour Sherlock stupidly agrees to do for Mycroft leads to John meeting a handsome, afluent man, who is going out of his way to woo him. Sherlock struggles with the situation and with his own reactions to it. Part 1 of The High Tide Series

All the Times Something ALMOST Happened by allonsys_girl (T, 9,049 w. || POV Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Canon Compliant, Angst, Friendship/Love, UST) – John and Sherlock dancing around what they dance around in canon.

Inked in Memory by 221b_hound (E, 9,716 w. || Post-HLV, Tattoos, First Kiss / Time, Anal, Cuddling, Scars, Captain John, Kissing, Switchlock) – John has been back at Baker Street for a year, following the debacle that ended in Mary’s death. Things are good. Back almost to what they used to be. Sherlock might wish they were something else, now, but he only has himself to blame, he thinks. It’s too late, now, for the things he first denied before he’d ruined any chances he might have had. Sherlock also thinks that people who get tattoos are idiots. But perhaps he’s about to learn a thing or two, not least of which might be it’s not as late as he thinks it is. Part 1 of Lock and Key

Someone I Love by hudders-and-hiddles (M, 10,002 w. || Canon Compliant, HLV-Filler Fic, Pre-Slash, Jealous John, PIning Sherlock, Angst & Fluff, UST/URT, Dog Tags) – John gets married and Sherlock finds comfort in wearing John’s identity tags around his wrist.

We are all together alone by Mildredandbobbin (M, 10,461 w. || Mutual Pining, Implied Torture, PTSD, Child Loss, Post-S3) – John is back at 221B but his relationship with Sherlock is not what it used to be.

Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder by cypress_tree (E, 10,669 w. || UST/RST, For an Experiment) – John helps Sherlock with an experiment: for an entire month, they are not allowed to touch each other and must remain at least one metre apart at all times.

Down with this Ship by FrostedFlame (PinkOrchid) (M, 10,862 w. || For a Case, Gay Bar, Pining, Coming Out, Slow Burn) – Sherlock drags John undercover to a gay bar - for a case, of course - looking forward to seeing John flustered by their surroundings (since you know, he’s NOT GAY). John decides that he has hidden both his orientation and his feelings for his daft flatmate for far too long. He is done hiding, time to be honest with his bloody best friend in the world. He just hopes it won’t change anything between them. And then it does.

And Here We Are by J_Baillier (T, 12,416 w. || ASiP Fic, Alternating First Person POV, Drama, Friendship, Mild Case Fic, Autism Spectrum Sherlock, Insecure Sherlock, Protective John, Pining, Homophobia, Loneliness, Angst, Humour, Domestics, Morbid Fluff, Kidnapping) – All the little things we never got to see when an army doctor and a consulting detective were adjusting to sharing a flat. And a life.

A Brand of Gold by aquabelacqua (M, 12,757 w. || Sex / Dirty Talk, Phone Sex, Solo, Pining, POV John) – What am I doing? he wondered. The answer came back at once: Flirting. He let the vital, missing piece snap into place as surely and as cleanly as if it had always been there. He was flirting with Sherlock Holmes.

I’m content as we are (but) by inqui (The_Circus) (E, 13,086 w. || Jealous John, UST/RST, Pining, Victor Trevor, Minor Whump, First Kiss / Time, Misunderstandings) – In which John Watson sees something unusual, becomes jealous, and makes too much of a small thing as an old friend of Sherlock’s shows up in the middle of a case.

Say For Me, Love by MirabileLectu (T, 13,147 w. || UST, First Kiss, Drama, Pining John, Victor Trevor) – If you had asked John this morning what the result of his quiet afternoon at home would be, discovering a truth about Sherlock’s past startling enough to shift the foundations of their friendship would not have been his first guess. So naturally, that was what was bound to happen.

Back to the Start by slashscribe (M, 14,088 w. || Sherlock’s Violin, Pining Idiots, Fluff, Domestics) – Sherlock hasn’t played the violin since John’s wedding (which is long since over), and when John returns to 221B, Sherlock relearns the violin as he and John relearn each other. Post S3 fic with an obscene amount of pining, idiocy, and attempts to pawn off tea duties.

Twelfth Night by yourdykeinshiningarmor (E, 15,139 w. || Fake Relationship, Christmas, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, Angst & Fluff, BJ’s, Anal) – John is invited to his aunt’s Twelfth Night ball. Sherlock offers to attend with him as a friendly face among strangers, but John’s family force him to address his true feelings for Sherlock.

Second Chance by SilentAuror (E, 15,816 w. || Post-Divorce, Friends to Lovers, UST, Romance) – Now that John’s divorce has gone through and the dust is settling, Sherlock thinks that he would very much like to see if there is any possibility of moving their friendship in another direction. The only thing is, he has no idea how to go about doing that…

At the Edge of Desire by philalethia (E, 16,375 w. || Post S3, Pining, Arse Worship, Humour, First Kiss / TIme, Sexual Fantasy, Awkwardness) – While helping John move back in to the flat, Sherlock discovers a strap-on among John’s things. He finds the discovery considerably difficult to move past.

A Hundred Thousand Ways to Say the Name John by Jberry (E, 16,825 w. || Fake Relationship, Fake Marriage, POV John, Pining John, Cruise Ship, Angst & Fluff) –  John Watson and Sherlock Holmes must solve a case on a cruise ship. To get close to the crew and passengers, they must get married for the case on the Baetica. However, their relationship hits rocky seas both due to the case and internal conflicts. Part 1 of Baetica [[FAVE!!! MUST READ!!]]

Let’s Make a Bed Out in the Rain by theimprobable1 (M, 17,664 w. || Pining, Angst & Fluff, First Kiss, Unrequited) – John is devastated after his long-term girlfriend leaves him. Sherlock helps him through it.

For you, there’s only me by shock_blanket (E, 19,557 w. || Jealous Idiots, Virgin Sherlock, UST/RST, Pining, Miscommunication, First Kiss / Time, Insecure Sherlock, Masturbation) – Sherlock realizes he has fallen in love with John, but believes he is unlovable. Cue lots of pining and jealousy on Sherlock’s part, followed by our favorite cuddly marksman making it all better. Because for Sherlock, there’s only John.

Ghost Stories by SwissMiss (M, 22,256 w. || Pining, Holmes Family, Christmas, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Bed Sharing, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, First Time) – Sherlock’s parents think he and John are a couple. They might be onto something.

Dear John by wendymarlowe (E, 23,031 w. || Post-TRF, Online Dating, Pining, Epistolary, Cybersex, Long Distance Romance) – With Sherlock dead, John eventually (under duress) makes a profile on an online dating site. And falls into a long-distance relationship with an enigmatic partner who reminds him of Sherlock in all the right ways. (Hint: it turns out to be Sherlock.) Part 1 of Dear John

Dropping the Act by jadztone (T, 27,258 w. || Parentlock, Fake Relationship, Mary’s Family, Post-S4, Cuddling & Snuggling, Bed Sharing, Pining, Christmas) – Sherlock and John are quite happy living together with Rosie in Baker St. They might be even happier if they didn’t act towards each other like their love is only platonic. Mycroft brings troubling news in the form of Mary’s parents wanting to know just what their grandchild’s home life is like. The boys decide to spend Christmas pretending like they are in love in order to seem more like a “normal” family. It’s easy enough to pretend when all you’re doing is dropping the act.

To be Loved by You by TwisterMelody (M, 28,775 w. || Angst, H/C, Friends to Lovers, Post-HLV, Infidelity, Character Death, Background Mystrade, Pining, First Time, Romance) – Too many times they had confessed themselves in the darkness, leaving it there, never to speak of it again.  But this is different.  This love deserves the light of day.

“finally kiss the bloody idiot” by Salambo06 (E, 29,812 w. || Mutual Pining, Fake Relationship, First Kiss / Time, Angst, Misunderstandings, Fantasies, POV John) – Inspired by a fic idea on tumblr : “John and Sherlock know the Yard has a pool going for when they’re finally going to get together. It’s been running forever, and it’s worth thousands of pounds. It’s all fun and games, hahaha, until they find out Lestrade is in dire financial straits (dog needs emergency surgery, he’s putting his kid through gymnastics training, I don’t know, something), and they decide to fake a relationship to win the pool for him. Sherlock figures out the day and way that Lestrade thinks it’s going to happen, and they act it out. It’s all for a good cause, fake relationship style, until it’s not.” Part 1 of The Pool

Another Auld Lang Syne by DiscordantWords (M, 30,234 w. || Post S4, Mutual Pining, Alternating POV, Introspection, Parentlock, Christmas, New Year’s, First Kiss, Past Drug Use, Angst with Happy Ending, Drinking, Sherlock Whump) – There had been years of missed chances.

Love or What You Will by miss_frankenstein (T, 31,987 w. || College/Uni AU || Professor John, Ph.D Student Sherlock, Pining John, Poetry, Falling in Love / Slow Burn, Light Angst, Happy Ending) – John is an English professor who specializes in War and Post-War Literature and Sherlock is the brilliant yet impossible Ph.D. student assigned to be his TA because no one in the Chemistry Department is willing to put up with him. And - somewhere between Waugh and Plath, e-mails and takeaway, novels and villanelles - they fall in love.

Five Times They Kissed for a Case, and One Time They Kissed for Real by fleetwood_mouse (M, 32,406 w. || 5+1, Slow Burn, Fluff / Angst, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers) – A stolen ring! An artful blogger! And many more adventures for your enjoyment.

The Wrong Wagon by DancingGrimm (E, 35,663 w. || Alternating POV, MollyxJohn [Molly pines for John], Public Sex, Casual Sex, Obliviousness, BAMF!John, Awkwardness, Angst & Humour, First Time, Virgin Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock) – Molly sees John in a new light and realises that she may have hitched her horse to the wrong wagon…or something like that. John pines for Sherlock and worries what he will think if he ever finds out. And Sherlock doesn’t know what Molly’s up to…but he knows he doesn’t like it.

Classified(s) by blueink3 (E, 36,153 w. || Wedding Date AU || Fake Relationship, Jealous, PIning, H/C, Idiots in Love, Happy Ending, Mary is not Nice, Escort Service) – Clara’s American father is the ambassador to some such territory that Great Britain probably used to own, but she (and Harry’s undying love for her) is the reason John is getting on a flight at 12:30pm, flying across the second largest ocean in the world, and pretending to be in a perfectly happy, healthy relationship with an undoubtedly perfectly coiffed stranger. See, Clara is not only American (and wealthy to boot), she’s also best friends with John’s ex-fiancée. Whom she’s placed in the wedding party. As Maid of Honor. And John just happens to be Best Man. Bloody brilliant.

The Boy Who Drank Stars by kinklock (E, 36,157 w. || Howl’s Moving Castle AU || Witches and Wizards, Slow Burn, Magic, Jealous John, Happy Ending, Bed Sharing) – “I’m looking for a castle,” John informed the scarecrow. “A moving one.”Except that, as it turned out, it was not a moving one at all.

A Promise Made to Be Broken by PlantsAreNeat (E, 37,018 w. || Fake Relationship, Pining, Slow Burn, RST, Eventual Relationship) – A young John makes an ‘if we’re still single at 40, we’ll get together’ pledge to a woman who ends up all wrong for him. She keeps reminding him of the promise, and won’t let go of it. John asks Sherlock to pose as his boyfriend at a family wedding, so as to dash her hopes permanently. Sherlock, who has at last acknowledged his feelings for John, reluctantly agrees despite knowing how painful it will be to ‘have’ John, but not keep him.

The Curious Adventure of the Drs. Watson by ShinySherlock (M, 40,883 w. || BBC & ACD Fusion || Victorianlock, Time Travel / Magical Realism, Friends to Lovers, Love and Kissing, Romance, Body Swap) – What if ACD Watson and BBC Watson switched places…  “Imposter!” Hands clenching the lapels of John’s coat, Holmes shoved him anew. “Yes!” John agreed, nodding, and then grimacing. “Sort of!”

Never Change a Running System by Lorelei_Lee (E, 54,246 w. || Romance, Humour, Drama, UST/RST, First Kiss / Time, Virgin Sherlock, Accidental Voyeurism, Blow Jobs, Frottage, Public Sex, Kissing) – Sherlock discovers his sexuality – with far-reaching consequences for John.

The Progress of Sherlock Holmes by ivyblossom (E, 62,006 w || First Person Sherlock POV, Pining, Angst, Slow Burn, Infidelity, Sherlock Learns About Himself, Happy Ending) – Sherlock struggles with his feelings for John, makes a mistake, and learns just how important he and John are to each other. Non-BBC Mary / John, but it’s a *complicated* relationship.

You Have Drawn Red From My Hands by J_Baillier (T, 67,085 w. || Three Garridebs, Heavy John Whump, Hurt / Comfort, Pining, Heavy Angst, Case Fic/Adventure, Slow Burn, Sick Fic, Injury, Guilt & Depression, Just Talk Already Please, Medical Realism, PTSD) –  John getting injured leads Sherlock on a path of guilt and revelations.

Not Broken, Just Bent by Schmiezi (E, 87,585 w. || Pining, Love Confessions, Torture, Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Villain!Mary, Suicidal Ideations, Main Character Death, Sherlock POV, Eventual Happy Ending) – “For a second, I allow myself to remember teaching John how to waltz. There is a special room in my mind palace for it. A big one, with a proper parquet dance floor. For a second, I go there. I remember holding him, closer than the World Dance Council asks for, excusing it with the fact that we are training for a wedding, not for a competition. For a second, I feel his hand on mine again, smell his sweat, hear the song we used. For a second, I allow myself to love him deeply. For a second, only a second, that love reflects on my face.” Fix-it for S3, starting at the end of TSoT. Evil Mary.

The Baker Street Nativity by SwissMiss (E, 99,662 w. || Nativity! AU || Teacher Sherlock / TA John, Pining, Sherlock POV, UST, Angst, Christmas, Music/Song Fic, Anal / BJ’s, First Kiss / Time) – Fusion between Sherlock (BBC) and Nativity! (2009 movie starring Martin Freeman). Sherlock is a primary school teacher and John is assigned to be his classroom assistant. Together, they are charged with putting on the school’s Nativity play. What could possibly go wrong? Part 1 of The Baker Street Nativity Verse

The Burning Heart by May_Shepard (M, 119,150 w. || Canon Divergence, Post-TRF, John’s Sexuality, S3 Rewrite, Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, POV John Watson, John’s Gay) – When Sherlock dies, John Watson feels like his life is over too. He’s completely shut down, until Mark Morstan, a new nurse at John’s medical clinic, catches his attention, and helps him uncover the long buried truth of his attraction to men. Although he’s certain he’ll never get over Sherlock, John plans to move on, and build a new life with Mark, unaware that Sherlock is not quite as dead as he appears, and that Mark is hiding secrets of his own.

The Swan Triad by Pennin_Ink (T, 121,660 w. across 3 works || Swan Lake AU || Magical / Fairy Tale AU, Romance, Falling in Love, Pining, Psychological Torture, Transformation) – Sherlock and John grow up spending every summer together. Their mothers’ attempts to play matchmaker only fuel their mutual resentment and scorn. But then, one summer.

Colors by Quesarasara (E, 140,537 w. || Pleasantville-Inspired AU || Soulmates, Colour Bonds, Alternating POV, Angst, Fluff, Pining, Case Fic, Medical Procedures) – Everyone on earth is born with eyes that see in black, white, and an endless series of greys. When you meet your soulmate, you finally see the world in color. We’re all searching for the person who brings color to our lives. John and Sherlock are no exception. Part 1 of The Colors 'Verse

Midnight Blue Serenity by BeautifulFiction (E, 151,907 w. || Friends to Lovers, Gay Bar / For a Case, Drugs, Pining, Case Fic, UST) – When Sherlock infiltrates a club in order to track down a serial killer, his altered appearance is enough to make John question his assumption that Sherlock is beyond his reach. However, is he the only one who appreciates his flatmate’s charms, or is Sherlock at risk of becoming the next victim?

[independentauthor]

Breathless Reality Tom Holland X  Original Character

Multi Chapter

Full summary: 21 year old Sydney is just trying to make dreams come true by touring the world, creating music, and making unforgettable memories. But some dreams you can’t make come true, they just happen on their own. Tom Holland falling in love with her was the most unexpected dream come true of all.

Warnings for full fic: Fluff, angst, mentions of sex, mentions of past trauma, and smutt  (please let me know if I miss anything!)  

Chapter summary: Tom and Sydney can’t part but they might just have been caught 

Chapter 9

“Oh my god that’s brilliant,” Tom laughed.

We were cuddled up under a blanket on the couch in the back lounge of the bus watching Star Wars the Force Awakens, looking at memes on my phone. We both wore jeans, t-shirts, and our sweatshirts with the hood up. We had kicked off our shoes and Tom had thrown his arm over my shoulders and pulled me into him.

I was scrolling through Tumblr, which I hadn’t been able to do in a while due to my crazy schedule, and showing just about everything to Tom, while he was checking his text messages.

“Man, I seriously haven’t been online in so long,” I said.

“Me neither,” Tom agreed, as he continued to scroll.

Tom lowered my hood so that he could absentmindedly run his fingers through my hair.

It was practically magical, laying there with him, so comfortable and happy. I felt like we were in our own bubble of happiness. But past experience had taught me to not just enjoy these types of moments, but to be aware that they don’t last forever.

I switched over to Instagram and decided I had a little time to look through my notifications. I didn’t do this often due to how many I would receive. I would simply post a photo, scroll through my feed, and then close out of the app.

I took a sharp, involuntary breath that did not go unnoticed by Tom.

“What’s wrong love?” he asked, first looking at me then my phone, “Oh.”

There were tons of them. I mean literally tons of them.

Photos of me and Tom at the Avengers premiere had exploded online. Most of the first ones, which I had already seen, were just normal photos. However, many of them were either edited in some way or had captions that sparked loads of comments. But they weren’t the only photos.

Someone had spotted us at the restaurant last night.

The photos were only of us at dinner and outside the restaurant, not of us later on, but it was enough.

I was so shocked that I forgot my usual standard rules for these types of things. I would only go so far reading into these things, stopping if things upset me. But I couldn’t help it. I just sat there and read through them.  

They ranged from over excited fans who shipped us to angered ones who had nothing but awful thigs to say. I honestly wasn’t sure which was worse. Sure the shippers were always very sweet, but they had never been correct in my case. I didn’t know how to feel. Sad, angry, embarrassed?

Mortified.

That was it.

There was a soft noise in my ear.

I slowly turned my head as I realized Tom was talking to me.

“Sydney,” he said softly, concern written all over his face.

I simply blinked at him.

“Sydney, it’s okay,” he said, wrapping both his arms around me in an attempt to comfort me, “It’s alright love.”

“Tom I . . .” but words failed me.

“It’s alright Sydney, I promise. This is nothing to get upset about,” he said slowly shaking his head.

“Nothing to get upset about?” I asked in disbelief.

“No, this is just what the fans do, you know that, it just comes with the territory,” he said calmly.

“You’re going to sit there and tell me that this doesn’t bother you?” I asked.

“No, it doesn’t.  What I’m concerned about is you,” he said, reaching up to push some hair out of my face, “I don’t want you to be upset.”

“It’s just that, I don’t know how to deal with this,” I admitted, looking down.

“Let me ask you something,” Tom said, “Do you want to keep this away from the public?”

I looked up with surprised eyes.

“What?”

“If that is what you want then that is what we’ll do, I mean it, whatever you want,” Tom said.

“That’s not what I want, is that what you want?” I asked.

“No,” Tom said, shaking his head.

“Then what do we do?” I asked.

“We stick together,” he said, “We are in a relationship, and that means being a team. So we decide what is public and what isn’t.”

I smiled at him. He was so calm. Either that or he was just really good at faking it.

“Okay so let’s decide,” I said nodding.

“Well obviously people know how we met so we can’t really hide that,” he reasoned.

“And they know we’ve been out together,” I added.

“So I suppose they can know we are together,” he said.

“I guess it’s more about the details,” I said, looking up at him.

He nodded his head and then kissed my forehead.

“It’ll be alright love,” he said softly.

“Yeah,” I said leaning forward and burying my face in his shoulder as he wrapped his arms tighter around me.

I closed my eyes and breathed in his sweet scent, thinking about last night.

“You can’t keep doing that if you expect me to let go of you,” Tom had said grinning at me.

I blushed guiltily as I continued to run my fingers through his hair despite his warning. He had his arms wrapped firmly around my middle while he pressed his forehead to mine. He had me backed up against the tour bus, and even if I had wanted one, there was no way out. Even from my limited exploration of him, I knew those muscles of his would certainly out match mine.

“Maybe I don’t want you to,” I said slyly.

“Mmm, I think I can live with that,” he said grinning before he seductively brushed his lips against mine and ran his tongue over my bottom lip, making me shiver.

He smiled at me, not doubt pleased that he was able to affect me so.

“Though it does leave us in quite a predicament,” he said thoughtfully.

“What is that?” I asked, playing with one of his curls.

“How to move from this spot,” he said, leaning down to kiss my neck just under my ear.

“Mmm,” I hummed, closing my eyes and enjoying the feeling.

“I suppose a gentleman would make sure you got to bed and politely say goodnight,” he said.

“And are you a gentleman Tom?” I teased.

“I want to be for you,” he said softly, his eyes suddenly shinning.

My heart stopped at the quick change in his mood.

He had gone from playful to serious so fast.

It was becoming apparent to me that I was not able to keep up with him.

“Tom,” I started.

“I’m serious Sydney,” he said, “I want to be good to you.”

“You already are,” I assured him, brushing a lose curl off his face.

He gave me a non-committed smile.

“I promise,” I said, standing on my toes to kiss his nose.

Tom ran his fingers through my hair, then down my back, bringing me back to him and the bus.

“Put this out of your mind and just focus on the show tonight,” he said in a soothing voice.

“Thanks,” I said, moving so that I could smile at him. It was amazing how in just a few weeks of knowing me he already knew just how to make me feel better, and what was most important to me.

He leaned down and slowly melted his lips with mine. I pulled on the front of his sweatshirt, urging him closer. To my delight he tightened his arms around me, and all I could think was it still wasn’t tight enough.

The door to the lounge suddenly opened.

“Well hello love birds,” Ali said, looking rather smug.

My cheeks burned red and I once again buried my face in Tom’s shoulder. He let out a laugh, placing his hand comfortingly on the back of my head.

“Good morning Ali,” he said, trying to contain his laughter.

“Stop laughing at me,” I mumbled loudly into his shoulder.

“I’m sorry love, I’m not laughing at you,” he said as he continued.

“Any who,” Ali said, plopping herself down on the couch next to me, “there’s some stuff I need to go over with you.”

“Yeah?” I said, finally sitting up and turning to face her, leaning back against Tom’s chest. He slid his arms around me, leaning his chin on my shoulder.

“Well you have a radio interview at 1:00 so we need to leave at 11:30 and then there’s some time to see fans outside the venue, sound check, and then the show. And I think your usual visit with the fans at the end of the tour after the show would be good of course,” she said, reading off her list, “Also, I wanted to ask you if you’ll be joining us for the day?” she asked, looking up at Tom.

He looked at me uncertainly.

“Well,” he started slowly, “I don’t want to intrude . . .”

“You won’t be intruding,” I said quickly.

“Great! Do you need to let Harrison know? Or did you want him to come too?” Ali asked.

“If you guys don’t mind . . .”

“He’ll come too,” I said confidently.

“Awesome! Just tell him to be here by 11:30,” Ali said standing up, “I’m going to make sure everything is ready, you have 20 minutes before breakfast,” she said looking at me sternly before closing the door behind her.

Tom let out a laugh.

“Is she always like that?” he asked looking at me.

“When it comes to taking care of me?” I asked, “Always.”

“Well that’s good,” he said, giving me a slight squeeze as I laid my head back on him, “You ready for today?”

“Absolutely,” I said closing my eyes.

I wanted to enjoy the next 20 minutes in his arms.

[cryp-did-system]

Daily Thoughts #1

Host here.  Content warning: mentions of abuse, intrusive thoughts, etc.  I’m usually not one to post on this tumblr account, it’s designed for the alters who don’t front as much to have a chance to speak their minds.  But I have been told by Zephyr and Roselynn that if I do not participate in the new daily posts that there will be consequences. (Rolls eyes)

I’m not very open to most people about how deep my struggles are and how complicated it is dealing with being homeless, transgender, and having mental and physical disabilities.  It’s also why we keep my name out of the equation, because those who need to know already do. Most days I just try to make the best of things and rely on the couple of close friends/lovers I have in my life and my therapist for some emotional support. 

I’ve managed to make a lot of progress as have the others in this system, but today was one of those times that I was saved from a very deep depression swing and the suicidal ideation that comes along with it - by poetry and Magic the Gathering.  I just basically wrote down my feelings and built a new deck, and by the time I was done a few hours later I was better.  Not over it, but better.

I’m also trying to adapt to Karinah, the latest co-conscious alter in our system.  She makes me extremely uncomfortable, and is so opposite to me.  I’m very solidly selfless, meek, asexual, refined, and gently affectionate.  She is persuasive, abrasive, seductive, primal, and brazen.  Hopefully over time we can either learn how to better interact, or how to mellow out.  Either way, it has been another in a string of long and tiring days of waiting for the disability case to move forward so we can finally start being independent. Goodnight.  Hopefully you will hear from someone else tomorrow, as I am growing tired of social media in general, since I always put too much into it. Thanks - Host

[calishak]

10 Point Scale! As I look in the window and I see the mannequins that wear the clothes that are so perfectly for you and I admire the diamonds that would fit your finger so perfectly. All I could think about are the different parts of you! She is built up of many different parts! Let's start from Point 1! Mentality - she stands on her own and even though she is gorgeous her IQ is at the highest level. Point 2! Her eyes don't lie and she doesn't take bullshit - only the realest angel that I know. Point 3! She is always relaxed because she knows where she has been and how far the distance is to reach her goal. Point 4! Perfection! damn from her head to her toes and she wore shoes that show her feet and it's like flowers growing and damn again - she has pretty feet! Point 5! I ask her what she wants on the menu and she states I trust you; but let me suggest something sweetheart! Point 6! She walks in front of me occasionally with a message that I can only see! because I only want her to be beside me. Point 7! She is a magnet of spirit; I am not the jealous type because everyone stops her and states to her; you are so beautiful and he is so lucky! and I just smile because I know her mind is just as powerful as her beauty! Point 8! She whispers and says.... Mmmm! in my ear I can't wait to get home; she is still a sexual beast. Point 9! She knows when to take control especially when I have had a hard day and she will slowly grasped my hand with her eyes glowing and her lips curved with the ultimate seductiveness. Point 10! She says goodnight and kisses me and says "I got your back!" - which will linger until the next time - Wow! She knows I am forever her's - She is my everything and my tomorrow! I have more points but I don't want to go there because she has so many and I could tell you more. She is the perfect 10 times infinity! She allows me to close my eyes and sleep in a calm melody of peace; because she knows that I strive and fight the struggles of being a man. "It's a creative artistic choice for a tunnel experience of life and bring awareness to creativity" Calishak LLC/Kazfilm Production Co and Studios.... https://www.instagram.com/p/CVQsSqQPht6/?utm_medium=tumblr

[deepestfancloud]

Skype with Ethan Dolan (smut)

“Hi, baby,” his raspy tone spoke from the other end, and a sigh escaped my lips as I saw Ethan’s face pop up onto the screen. “Hey,” I mumbled, a smile springing to my lips as he grinned into the camera. “I miss you, babe. So much…it’s been lonely without you here.” “I miss you too, E,” I sighed. “How’s tour been?” “Great, baby. This is the first time I’ve had off in about three weeks, but it’s fun… How about you? How’s everything back home?” “The normal,” I mumbled. “Work’s been busy as usual, and I miss you being here to cuddle with me after a stressful day.” “Don’t make me feel bad,” he grumbled, a slight smile tugging on his lips. “I also miss you being here…to pleasure me,” I squeaked, my voice trailing off towards the end. “Don’t,” he moaned out, “you have no idea how hard it is for me, my hand’s nothing compared to your lips.” “I went shopping today,” I began, giggling slightly as Ethan’s expression weaved into a confused frown. “Bought some new underwear…” “Shit,” he muttered, “What’s it like?” “Black…lace. I know it’s your favourite, baby.” “Can I see?” He asked after a few moments. “Please.” “Sure,” I grinned, mentally congratulating myself for getting Ethan in the place I wanted him to. “I bought something else, too.” “What?” He asked, his tongue sliding over his pink lips as he stared into the camera. “Wait and see, baby,” I spoke, my voice low and seductive as I threw him a wink before removing myself from Ethan’s view and removing my shorts and shirt, leaving me in black underwear. Placing the kitten ears on my head, I ruffled my hair slightly before turning the laptop around and showing myself to Ethan. “What do you think?” I asked, a mischievous grin on my lips as I bent down to the screen, giving him a full view of my breasts. “Shit,” he moaned out. “You look fucking incredible.” “Do you like the ears?” I smirked, biting my lip as I awaited an answer. “Love them,” he grumbled. “You shouldn’t have done this to me, now I’m stuck with a boner while I’m alone.” “Imagine what you’d be doing to me, if I was there, baby,” I moaned out, sliding my hand to my heat as I felt myself become wet. “Touching me,” I moaned as I slid my fingers over my clit. “Fuck, baby,” he groaned before a metal clink from his belt hitting the floor was heard. “Keep talking to me, kitten.” “Your lips would find my breasts, I know how much you love sucking on me, Ethan,” I spoke, a smirk on my lips as I pushed them together. “Take it off,” Ethan mumbled, his tongue tracing his lip. “I thought you liked my new underwear?” I teased, reaching to unclip the grasp of my bra. “Shit,” he whispered as the lace material dropped to the floor and his hand movements became more frequent. “Do you like that, Ethan? Do you love watching me play with myself, moaning out?” “Fuck, kitten, yes.” “Mhmm,” I mumbled, biting my lip as I removed the last of my underwear and threw it behind my shoulder. “I’m so wet for you, baby.” “Touch yourself,” he said. “My fingers are nothing compared to yours,” I spoke, replacing my position to the bed and pushing the laptop further down the mattress so I was completely exposed to Ethan. “Pretend it’s me,” he instructed. “Imagine I’m kissing down your neck, biting your skin as you moan for me.” “Moan for me, kitten.” “Ethan,” I moaned as I inserted one finger, spreading my legs wider to allow more access. “You look so hot,” he groaned, his eyes not leaving the screen as his hand picked up pace. “I’d be sucking you off if I was there,” I spoke, ignoring the shakes in my voice as I pleasured myself. “I’d wrap my lips around your cock, imagine it,” “I am, kitten. You give me the best blow jobs,” he grunted, “add another finger.” “Ethan,” I moaned out as I pushed another finger in, my other hand grasping my breast as I flicked the nipple. “Talk to me, baby.” “You’re such a slut,” he moaned and I let out a whimper as his harsh words send a shiver through me. “So naughty, kitten. Touching yourself without me, I can’t wait until I’m home so I can punish you.” “Ethan, I’m gonna come soon,” I whispered, my eyes falling shut as I rolled my head back onto the pillow. “Look at me,” he hissed from the other end and my eyes snapped back open. “Good girl,” he commented. “You’re to look at me when you orgasm, okay, kitten?” I nodded, no other words managing to slip from my mouth as I approached my high. “Hold it,” he demanded, “I’m nearly there.” “Ethan,” I almost screamed, trying to contain myself. “Oh baby, you fuck me so good.” “More, kitten,” “I love the way your cock feels inside my pussy, fucking me so hard,” “Ugh,” he grunted, “fuck, baby. Let go.” With that I released, a scream slipping from my mouth as I rode out my orgasm. My eyes flashed to Ethan's after a few strangled moans released from his throat. “That was amazing,” he grinned, leaning closer to the screen. “Yeah,” I sighed. “I miss you so much, E.” “I miss you too, kitten,” he spoke. “I promise I’ll make it up to you when I get back.” “You better,” I smiled, a small giggle slipping. “And make sure you keep those cat ears, you look gorgeous.” “I will,” I grinned. “It’s late, I need to sleep, Ethan.” ”Okay,” he sighed, blowing me a kiss. “Call me in the morning before work, okay?” I nodded, returning his gesture before sliding under the blankets. “I love you, goodnight, baby.” “Night, E,” I yawned, waving at the camera. “Love you too,” I mumbled, the last words I spoke before sleep pulled me under.

[violetren]

With the Setting of the Sun

Alternatively titled “Have Some Fucking Angst”

For Supercat Week 3 day 4: Red String of Fate.

Official summary: Kara reflects on the red string that had led her to so much joy in life, as the sun sets.

Read on AO3 ~here~

Read on FF.net ~here~

Or read it right here on Tumblr.

!WARNING FOR MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH BY OLD AGE! (sorrynotsorry)

It’s peaceful, here with Cat. Laying in their shared bedroom with only the late afternoon sunlight to light up the room. The only sounds the distant thrum of city life below them, their heartbeats, and their breathing. Cat’s breathing is the long slow breathing of sleep. Her heartbeat soft but sure. She looks content, even if a stray hair is in danger of falling down to tickle her nose.

Kara brushes the offending lock of hair back, and trails her hand over Cat’s cheek. The gesture provokes a sleepy smile but she doesn’t wake. Colour catches Kara’s eye as she completes the motion. The red string on her pinky grabbing at her awareness just as it has since she was a child.

Her mother and father hadn’t understood at first, when she had told them about the red loop on her finger, and how it was attached to a string that disappeared into the sky. They assumed it was the product of an overactive imagination. Kara had gotten mad at them over that, until she realised that they couldn’t see it. She had tried explaining it to them. The feel of it, the weight and pressure it put on her finger and how odd it was that those sensations never disrupted her movements.

Even on Krypton's last day they had seemed sceptical, but they had also been desperate. They had stumbled across Earth while helping uncle Jor-El with a project. Earth with it’s survivable atmosphere, and it’s yellow sun. Earth with it’s inhabitants who looked so much like Kryptonians, and the stories they told of people tied to one another by strings on their fingers. So they had put her in a pod, and sent her away. Hoping that the string was real. Hoping it would guide Kara to safety, and to someone who would care for her.

Holding her hand straight up toward the ceiling, Kara tilted it this way and that, watching how the length of the string would sway with the changes of angle. She traced the red line down to where the slack trailed over Cat’s body to where it was fastened to the pinky finger of Cat’s left hand.

She had found her someone, but it had taken some time to get to her even after she had escaped the Phantom Zone.

Kara and Alex are laid out on their stomachs in the living room of the the Danvers, of Kara’s, home, doing their homework, while Eliza catches up on some television. A burst of melodious laughter drags Kara’s attention away from the painfully simplistic mathematics worksheet she’s supposed to be filling out, and brings it to the screen the laughter had come from.

A woman with blonde hair, and inquisitive green eyes sits opposite two older men. She waves her hand as she speaks, to emphasise a point, and a flicker of red catches Kara’s eye. Frowning she sits up, abandoning her work to watch the woman on the screen. She moves her hand again, and this time Kara can make out the red loop on her pinky.

“Eliza,” Kara had said quietly. Unsure she should ask. “People can only see the red string they are attached to, right?”

It had been a relief to arrive on Earth and discover the string on her finger really did mean there was someone out there, just for her. It had been exhilarating to learn that not only did she have a soulmate, but that she was finally on the right planet to meet them. Her string no longer extended above the clouds, but now trailed along the ground and over the horizon, as she was told was normal.

“That’s right dear,” Eliza had said, still mostly immersed in the interview taking place on the screen. “Why do you ask?”

“I can see her string.”

Both Eliza and Alex had turned to look at her then.

“Whose string, sweetheart?”

“The lady, on the television, she has a string tied to her finger.”

Alex had sworn, then laughed, then sworn again. Eliza had frowned and scolded Alex for her language. Then she had asked, “are you sure?” as if it were the most important question in the world. Thinking back on the moment later, Kara supposed it might have been.

“Well then that means Cat Grant is Kara’s soulmate, right?” Alex had asked, shoving her homework to the side. “That’s pretty amazing, Kar.”

“It does, and it is,” Eliza had agreed, her eyes flickering briefly to where Cat was still charming information out of her guests for the episode, before returning to her daughters. Her tone soft and warm as always, but there was a tightness around her eyes. Worry.

“So, does that mean we’ll be moving to National City, so they can meet?” Alex asked, grinning.

Kara had sat up a little straighter at this. She didn’t know how successful she’d be keeping her secret in a place with a much larger population, but if it meant getting to meet her soulmate…

“Absolutely not!” Eliza exclaimed, the worry around her eye becoming much more pronounced. “That woman is more than twenty years older than Kara.”

“She’s also soulmate,” Alex said, rolling her eyes.

“Who lives in a city 10 times the size of Midvale. Kara still has trouble just going into town during the holiday season, how do you think she’d do in a city, that is bright lights and loud noises year round?”

Alex hadn’t had an answer for that one.

“It’s fine Alex.” Kara had told her sister later that night as they walked up the stairs to their rooms. “Right now I’m still getting used to life on Earth, I wouldn’t want to put her in danger by moving to the city and then messing something up.”

The words had felt heavy in her mouth. Weighed down with her guilt over Jeremiah’s death. Alex had frowned like she wanted to argue the point, but couldn’t seem to find the words to say.

Kara had hugged her at the top of the stairs, and then slipped into her room with a whispered goodnight. That she heard Alex return the sentiment as she slid into bed had just been more of a reminder that she was still too alien to go after something as normal as a soulmate.

Cat’s brow always furrowed whenever the subject of how Kara had discovered her soulmate was Cat Grant, media queen, came up in conversation. She hated that Kara had talked about herself like she would have been a burden to Cat, or that her younger self would have been fundamentally unlikeable to Cat. She hated how the question was always phrased in a way that reinforced the idea that Kara was somehow lesser to Cat just because she hadn’t also been a millionaire when they met, when the whole concept of soulmates centered around pairs being equal to one another.

“The whole point of the string is that it means we’re soulmates, Kara,” Cat would say, waving her pinky in Kara’s face to show off the knot tied there. “I spent almost forty years with a string that went into the clouds, did you really think the fact that you’re an alien, or that you’re younger than me, would make me think twice after that?”

There was no furrowed brow now. No tightness around her eyes. Whatever she dreaming of as she slept, if she was dreaming at all, it was peaceful. The sun was lower in the sky now. Afternoon shifting into evening.

Cat’s breathing was fainter, her heart beat slower. If she pushed her hearing to focus on the city around them Kara could still pretend it was just as strong as it had been before. She could pretend the only reason for the quietness in the room, was because the outside world was becoming louder.

The light caught in Cat’s hair, making the light strands glow in comparison to the dimness of the room. There was something ethereal about it that reminded Kara of the day she had first met Cat.

It was another six years after Kara had first seen Cat on television that they finally met. It hadn’t happened in a way Kara had ever imagined. It hadn’t even happened in the city Kara had imagined. Instead of their eyes meeting on a crowded street in National City, they had been standing opposite each other at an altar. Both members of Lois and Clark’s bridal party.

Everyone, Clark included, had been surprised when Cat had walked down the aisle with the rest of the bridesmaids. No one had expected it. Cat and Lois were forever playing up the idea that they were enemies in print, but after the vows and ‘I do’s’ had happened, Lois and Cat flung themselves into a hug, just as soon as Lois had finished hugging her sister. Or so Alex had told Kara in an awed whisper later that night. At the time Kara had been engulfed in a bear hug from her big little cousin.

It hadn’t been until later, during the wedding party photos that they had finally gotten a moment to talk to introduce themselves. They were stood off to the side, while Lois and Clark took a few shots alone, before the group photos. Cat had flicked her wrist sharply in a bid to gain her full attention, and for once they were close enough that Kara could feel a shadow of sensation in her finger as the string pulled. Kara hadn’t been able to hide her delighted smile at the way Cat had literally pulled them together. Cat had given a self satisfied smirk in response.

She had been so beautiful standing there that Kara hadn’t been able to summon any words. To be fair, Cat hadn’t spoken either. They had stood there smiling for what could have been eternity, trying to engrave every detail about the others face to memory. It had been the flash from James’ camera that had finally snapped them out of it. Cat being the first to recover.

“Cat Grant,” she said. Her voice low, and seductive. She held out a hand as she spoke. Whether it had been for Kara to shake, or to kiss, Kara still wasn’t entirely sure, but she hadn’t been given the chance to attempt either.

Cat’s already ‘ex’ husband, Peter, had walked over, with a seven year old Carter in tow.

“The ceremony part is over, and I have a business meeting to get to,” he’d said ushering Carter to stand next to his mother, with a small push. “I can’t stick around to babysit while you make eyes at the female groomsman.”

As far as Kara was concerned, Peter had never really managed to improve on the first impression he had given that day.

“It’s not babysitting when it’s your child,” Cat had hissed in response. It had been Kara’s first glimpse of the ‘take no prisoners’ powerhouse Cat could be, and she had loved it.

Peter had muttered out a whatever, as if he were twelve and not forty five, and then clapped a hand on Carter’s tiny shoulder by way of goodbye. Kara had found herself glaring after him, just the same as Cat as he left, but had stopped when she’d felt Cat’s eyes cut to her.

When she’d turned back to Cat, she had found her hovering protectively behind her son. There had been fear of rejection clear in her eyes, and her posture. As if she was waiting for Kara to get angry at her for having a child before they had found one another. There had been determination there too, something like a warning, that she would chose her child over Kara.

“And this is my son, Carter.”

Kara had, had no idea what to say in order to ease the fear in Cat’s eyes, so she had done the first thing that came to mind instead.

Slowly and deliberately she had raised her stringed hand, and moved it in a broad circle so that the slack of the string between them looked as if it looped around Carter’s shoulders. Kara had given a pleased nod with her handiwork before she looked Cat in the eye again.

They had been wide and glossed with tears. Cat clearly hadn’t been expecting such ready acceptance.

“It’s nice to finally meet you both,” Kara had said, proud that she hadn’t stuttered. “I’m Kara Danvers.”

Cat had flung her arms around Kara’s neck and kissed her for the first time, right then and there.

James had clicked a photo of that moment too. Kara kept both pictures from their first meeting in a fold out frame on the mantle. Cat would complain about there still being photographic evidence that she had worn one of Lois’ hideous bridesmaid dresses, but Kara knew she loved it. She had caught her staring at it adoringly when she claimed to be dusting to be sure.

She kept a wider shot of their kiss on their bedside. It extended the frame just wide enough to show Carter staring at them in surprise. Something that was cute enough to warrant being on their bedside all on it’s own. The real reason she kept it there however was because both she and Cat could see the string still looped around his shoulders, including him in their connection.

It had become their thing. Whenever they had a family photo they would loop their string around the others in the photo. Kara and Cat were the only ones that could see it in the printed photos but that was the point of it being their thing. Tens of hundred of photos in dozens of albums with their family tied to them by choice.

Alex, her soulmate Maggie, and of course Eliza. Carter, and later their adopted daughter Linda. Carter and Linda’s soulmates had joined the pictures too over the years. That had eventually led to two whole albums dedicated to the grandchildren they had brought into the world. Just last month they had even been lucky enough to add a photo of Carter’s eldest, Henry, and Henry’s newly found soulmate to the collection, the two blushing teenagers tied between Cat and Kara.

The sun was more than half set now. Just barely enough light filtering in to see the vibrant red of their string where it connected to her finger. Where the traffic down in the streets should have been louder, with people heading home for the day, it felt as if it were muted. The only sound that Kara really focused on was Cat’s heart.

She couldn’t look at Cat when the last beat finally faded from her ears. Instead she stared at her hand, tears streaming silently down her face.

She watched, with that detached interest that always seemed to come with seeing the consequences of a great loss unfold, the way the string faded from red to an ash like gray and then began to disintegrate. The particles of the string dissolved into the air until all that Kara was left with was a grey band around her pinky. A choking sob welled up inside of her, but she kept her hand steady.

Too afraid that if she moved it that the final remnants of her metaphysical attachment to Cat would float away into nothingness, just as the rest of the string had.