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malfoysstilinski · 4 years

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goodbye to remember | STILES STILINSKI (smut)

MASTERLIST

WORD COUNT: 3.9k

SUMMARY: Stiles is going off to college and Y/N wants to say goodbye properly to her long-term boyfriend.

WARNINGS: smut, unprotected sex, rough sex, oral (male and female receiving), shower sex, dirty talk, vaginal sex, fingering, dominate stiles, slight cum play, praise, multiple orgasms.

A/N: this was written by me on wattpad in my stiles and harper one shot series (my account is dyiansobrien), but i made it so it’s stiles x reader instead :)

They'd been driving for hours. All Y/N wanted to do was stretch her legs and get some sleep, so she suggested that they pulled over at the nearest motel. Stiles knew it was only sensible, agreeing when they saw the neon lights at the side of the motorway.

Y/N tossed the small bag she had packed for the journey onto the double bed in the middle of the bedroom, stretching her arms as high as she could in the air and yawning loudly. Meanwhile, Stiles was in the bathroom, inspecting whether or not it was clean enough for him to take a shower in it.

"Does it meet your criteria, Stilinski?" The girl called, amusement lacing her tone as she moved over to open the window, letting some fresh air in.

"Just about." His footsteps made Y/N turn around, finding him wandering back into the room while peeling the shirt off of his body.

Stiles revealed his soft abs and the dark hair that lived at the top of his chest and the bottom of his toned stomach. Y/N didn't care if she got caught staring, her teeth absentmindedly clamping down on her bottom lip as she admired how effortlessly attractive her boyfriend was.

Stiles saw. His confidence boosted as he sent her a cocky smirk and moved closer to the y/h/c-haired girl, placing his large hands on her hips. Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat, her gaze flickering from the chest that was practically shoved into her face to his eyes.

He was already staring down at her, smiling. Stiles' hazel eyes twinkled as she shifted her hands so that they rested on his chest. They looked dainty against him, her cold fingertips brushing hot skin and making the boy shiver slightly.

"Your hands are freezing," he spoke, his voice barely above a deep murmur.

"Mm, well you're pretty warm," Y/N hummed, running her hands up his chest to snake around his neck, pressing their chests together.

She moved onto her toes so she could press her lips against his. Stiles hummed into her mouth, loving the contact as he kissed back just as eagerly- if not more. His tongue ran across her bottom lip as she opened her mouth, allowing him to deepen the action.

"Y/N," he groaned as he pulled away. "I'm gonna miss this."

Her heart skipped a beat. While she had been thinking about them in the moment, Stiles had been thinking about the future. The future where they would be a time zone and thousands of miles apart. Growing up was a bitch.

"Don't think about that," she whispered against his lips. "This about us. Think about now."

Stiles nodded, his hands sliding up to cup her face. "Shower. Now."

He grabbed her hand, leading her to the bathroom so they could continue their antics elsewhere. His slender fingers reached for the bottom of her jumper, gently pulling it over her head. Her hair sprawled out across her shoulders, a groan escaping Stiles' lips when he realised Y/N wasn't wearing a bra underneath.

Y/N ghosted her hands back down Stiles' chest, her hands brushing past his happy trail until she arrived at the buttons of his khaki pants and started to undo them. Stiles' hand reached down and beneath Y/N’s skirt, then into her panties.

"Stiles," Y/N whimpered, feeling like her body could automatically go limp against him.

He supported her with his other hand, the hand in her underwear dipping down into her folds and finding that she was already wet. Stiles groaned in approval, spreading his fingers and her slick across her, loving the way Y/N gripped his arms tightly.

Stiles' biceps bulged as he dragged his finger from her hole to her clit. He started to rub it agonisingly slow, listening to the shallow breaths coming from the girl in front of him. Her forehead dropped onto his chest and his spare hand reached out, gently grabbing her neck and forcing her back.

"I wanna see your pretty face," Stiles murmured, not stopping the actions on her swelling bud. "I wanna watch your eyes roll back when I make you cum with just my fingers."

"Please, Stiles," Y/N nodded eagerly, feeling the thumb of the hand he had wrapped around her neck start to trace her jawline. "I wanna cum for you."

The hazel-eyed boy quickened the movements on her clit, slipping his thumb into Y/N’s mouth. He nearly moaned out loud as she started to suck around him, her y/c/e eyes wide and innocent. Stiles thumbed at her bud before he pressed his fingers against her hole again.

She was so much wetter than before, her slick coating his fingers as he pushed his middle finger inside her. Y/N’s actions faltered for a moment as Stiles retracted his thumb from her mouth, brushing her spit across her skin as he held her neck again.

"You want another one?" Stiles asked, sliding in and out of her with ease.

"Yes, yes," she nodded quickly, her words failing her for a moment or two. "Please, more. Inside me."

"Anything you ask, princess," Stiles breathed against her ear as he slid another finger inside of her hole.

She already felt so tight around him, her eyes flickering shut as she squeezed his digits unintentionally. Stiles worked to scissor her open better, fingers rubbing her walls and thrusting in and out slowly. Pants were falling from Y/N’s lips.

He knew this wasn't enough for Y/N. They liked it hard and fast, she couldn't just cum from this, no matter how good it felt. Stiles knew what she liked like the back of his hand.

Pretty soon he was adding a third finger and Y/N was gasping, hands slinging behind his neck. Stiles let her fall into him for a moment or two, feeling her legs shake beneath her. They didn't normally do this standing up, but Stiles wanted to see how far he could push her.

His hand was back around her neck as he pushed her against the bathroom wall.

"Eyes on me," Stiles instructed.

He began to thrust the three fingers even faster, much to Y/N’s relief. She squealed when he hit the spot inside her that she loved, her hand reaching to grab his wrist wrapped around her neck.

"Faster," Y/N begged. "Please, faster. Stiles."

Her moans and whimpers pushed him further. Stiles' thumb played with her clit as he fingered her, grip tightening around her neck. Y/N groaned at the sensation, feeling waves of arousal gush from her every now and then. The coil in her stomach was tightening, her hole pulsing around Stiles' digits.

"You gonna cum?" Stiles hummed. "Cum for me, Y/N. Cum around my fingers."

Y/N felt herself let go, her vision going slightly fuzzy as Stiles fucked his fingers into her relentlessly. She nearly screamed, loud yells echoing her lips as he fucked her through her high, leaving the girl a panting mess.

"Good girl," Stiles breathed, watching as her chest heaved as he finally let her fall against him properly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

He let Y/N catch her breath for a few moments before he started to edge them towards the shower. Stiles climbed into the tub before he grabbed Y/N and lifted her inside, steadying her from where her legs were slightly shaking. He reached for the dial and turned the water on, the two of them immediately getting sprayed by the weak pressure of the motel shower.

Y/N wanted to repay Stiles, her hands running down his hips before her right hand wrapped around his cock. Stiles hissed out in a mixture of pleasure and surprise, looking down as he watched her expertly pump his length. She was looking him in the eye like she was doing nothing wrong, the innocent look on her face making Stiles groan.

He leaned down and pressed their lips together, hungrily kissing her as he felt his cock grow harder in her touch. Her small hands felt much better than his own, her thumb swiping at the precum as it leaked from excitement. Her other hand moved down to cup his balls, gently playing with them and Stiles had to pull away to moan, the sound like music to Y/N’s ears.

Naturally, she loved to be the one beneath Stiles, but she couldn't deny that she loved making him putty in her hands. Y/N worked her hand up and down his shaft before she slowly dropped down onto her knees, finding herself right in front of his manhood. One of Stiles' hands reached around to hold her hair while the other was planted against the tiled wall, keeping him stable.

"Fuck, Y/N," he moaned.

He looked down, wishing he could take a picture of the sight in front of him as Y/N took the tip of his cock into his mouth, playing with him as she slowly worked her hand up and down the rest of his length. As she started to hollow her cheeks and take more of him inside her mouth, Stiles' body tensed and he released shuddering sounds, making Y/N look up.

He had his head tilted back in pleasure, a large hand yanking her hair a little tighter when she took him in as far as she possibly could. Y/N ended nearly all seven and a half inches in her mouth, bobbing her head and ignoring the slurping sounds that could be heard over the echoing of the water crashing around them and Stiles' breathy moans.

"Fuck, just like that," Stiles kept repeating, absentmindedly thrusting his hips a little.

Y/N held onto his hips hollowing her cheeks as she pulled off of him. "Fuck my mouth," she pleaded with him.

Stiles swore he could have cum just from her words. None of their friends would have ever imagined them having such a kinky sex life, but their relationship wasn't just cuddling and watching films. They were horny teenagers who trusted each other perhaps too much and had been together for years, all they wanted to do was experiment with each other.

He obeyed what Y/N had said, holding the back of Y/N’s head to keep her still. She kept her mouth open for him and started to thrust back and forth, listening to her slight choking sounds as she swallowed around him every now and then, squeezing his cock and pushing him further and further towards his climax. Stiles could feel himself about to cum already, and she'd only been sucking his cock about six minutes.

"I'm gonna cum," Stiles groaned. "Where do you want it?"

Y/N took one hand off of his hip to pat her face and Stiles nearly grinned, thrusting a few more times before he quickly pulled out of her warm mouth. He jerked his cock a few times and groaned loudly as his cum spurted from the tip, washing over Y/N’s face and neck. Stiles didn't stop until he was sure there was no cum left, feeling himself grow soft.

Y/N hummed as she stood up from her knees, wiping the cum from her face with her fingertips and guiding them into her mouth. Stiles groaned when she put them in her mouth and started to suck, wondering if Y/N could get anymore perfect. The water was starting to wash his cum away from her skin, but he reached for a bit on her cheek and put his finger in her mouth, letting her suck that too. She did it-- eagerly.

Stiles could feel himself growing hard again and he had only cum a minute ago. He was pretty sure he would never get tired of fucking Y/N. It was always something different. She was always doing something new to surprise him, or he was always begging to try a new position or kink he'd seen online. Y/N was always so willing too.

It was all too perfect.

He pressed Y/N against the wall and tangled themselves together once more, letting the water flow down their naked bodies. One of Stiles' large palms reached to cup Y/N’s breast, squeezing it slightly before he started to tease at her nipple, making her back arch off of the tiles.

Their chests pressed against each other and Y/N groaned at the feeling of her nipples against Stiles' bare skin. His hands moved down her back and grabbed her ass, squeezing her cheeks before he smacked one. She jolted against him.

"I love your ass," Stiles murmured against her ear. "And your beautiful tits. And your hips."

His hands travelled across her skin, igniting flames with his fingertips. Y/N grabbed his hand before he could cup her breast again, sending him a pleading look.

"No more teasing, Stiles. Please," she begged.

She brought his large hand down to her pussy, making him cup it. Stiles had to hold back a groan as he felt how soaked she was, tracing his finger back through Y/N’s folds. The girl could never get enough— she couldn't have sex unless she had multiple orgasms, whether it was from his actual cock inside her or if he used his hands and mouth.

"So wet for me," Stiles said, dragging his finger back and forth.

He used his other hand to reach up and turn the shower off before he picked her up by her backside. Y/N squealed a little, wrapping her legs around him as Stiles brought them out of the bathroom and headed to the bed.

He flung her down onto the mattress and then used his arms to swipe their belongings onto the floor, wincing when he heard what sounded like a phone smacking the carpet.

Y/N shot him a look, but he just shrugged and kneeled down onto the floor, grabbing Y/N’s thighs. Stiles yanked her towards the edge of the bed and Y/N knew to rest her legs on his shoulders as his fingers worked at her pussy once more.

"You want my tongue this time?" He asked huskily.

When Y/N whimpered but didn't reply, Stiles pulled his hand back and then smacked her clit— not too hard but enough to send a jolt of pain and pleasure through the girl who whispered again, but even louder.

"Answer me," Stiles ordered.

"Yes, yes, yes," Y/N agreed, nodding her head furiously. "Please fuck me with your tongue, Stiles. Let me cum on your tongue."

"Mhm," he groaned, hot breath hitting her soaking heat. "Good girl."

Y/N’s back arched when she felt his tongue plant itself against her pussy. It moved flat through her folds, his button nose nuzzling against her clit and causing her to whimper. Stiles worked his way up from the hole to her clit and when he found the swollen nub, he made swirling motions with his tongue around it, teasing her.

"Please," she panted, hands detaching from the sheets to tangle in Stiles' dark hair, tugging a little.

He moaned against her, the vibrations making Y/N’s legs shake a little and her breathy whimpers grew even louder and less spaced out. Her head was spinning when his mouth finally closed around her clit, sucking and nibbling. He lapped up all of her juices as they came, holding her hips down when she couldn't stop arching her back.

Stiles smoothed his hands up and down her stomach, reaching up to grab her breasts whilst he worked on her clit with his mouth. Y/N felt like she could cry as his fingers pinched at her nipples, large palms squeezing and cupping her tits. She threw her head back and released a loud moan when Stiles nibbled slightly on her, feeling herself grow even wetter, her slick starting to drip down her thighs.

When Stiles was sure that she was close, her breaths less even and her legs squeezing tighter against the sides of his head, he pulled away, making Y/N groan loudly in disbelief. She lay there panting, her hands releasing his hair to tangle with the sheets. Stiles stood up over her, his nearly six-foot figure looming as he swiped at his lips with his fingers and sucked on them a little.

"Mhm," he groaned. "You taste so good, baby."

Y/N’s eyes were a little wide at the action and she leaned up onto her knees at the flash of lightning, wrapping her arms around Stiles' neck. The Stilinski boy barely had a chance to react before she was kissing him hard on the lips and tugging him back down onto the bed. His elbows stopped himself from completely crushing her, but their bodies were still pressed against one another, all sweaty and hot.

Y/N could feel his hard-on pressing against her pussy and her stomach and she rocked her hips up a little to try and cause more friction. Stiles pulled away to hiss a little, looking down at their bodies where his precum had smeared against her skin.

"Fuck me, Stiles," Y/N pleaded. "Just please get inside me. Wanna feel you."

"Whatever you want, princess," Stiles replied, planting one last kiss to her forehead before he pulled back and grabbed his length.

He pumped it a few times before he started to run the head of his cock through Y/N’s folds, collecting all of her slick. Y/N squirmed when he brushed her clit with his dick, groaning when he smacked it against her. Stiles was holding back too, she could tell he wanted to be inside her more than anything right now, so he was going to end up giving in very soon.

After he teased her for a couple of seconds longer, Stiles lined himself up with her hole and pushed the tip inside, watching as Y/N gasped. He groaned, his eyes rolling back into his head as he slid in all of the way, right to the hilt and stilling. The girl beneath him sucked a breath in, arms wrapping back around him at the feeling of being so full. She loved it-- Stiles fit her so comfortably like they were made for one another.

Stiles leaned back down and kissed her lips sweetly, the pair just making out for about a minute before Stiles started to rock against her. Y/N whined at the feeling against her clit, looking down to see Stiles pull out and then thrust back in slowly, his cock glistening in her arousal. Stiles' fingers moved out to trace her skin, all of the curves of her body and the scars that she had- the gunshot scar on her shoulder from Matt, the scratches she had from being thrown around by the Ghost Riders before.

"So beautiful," Stiles mumbled, kissing her shoulder and then working his way up to her neck.

Y/N tilted her neck to the side, hands moving to his back as he began to kiss her in the place she loved the most. His thrusts were relatively slow and loving as he kissed and sucked and nibbled at her skin, the sensation making Y/N so much wetter. It was so easy for him to slide in and out of her, she felt so warm and wet. Y/N’s nails were gliding gently up and down Stiles back, nowhere near enough to leave marks but to tickle a little.

Once he'd left a few dark marks against Y/N’s delicate skin, Stiles blew some air onto them and made her clench her eyes shut. He decided that she looked simply stunning beneath him like this, his large hands holding her down as she willingly gave into him, taking and giving everything she could offer to him. Her head hid in his shoulder as he started to pick up the pace a little more, thrusting in and out of her soaking pussy quicker.

"More," Y/N whispered.

"Up," Stiles replied, pulling out of her and making her pout a little.

She hated feeling so empty, but she knew exactly what Stiles wanted. Y/N flipped back so that she was on her hands and knees, arching her back so that her ass was high in the air and the rest of her body was as flat against the mattress as she could get. Stiles smirked at the sight, running his hands up and down her back and tapping his fingers, marvelling at the sight of his beautiful girlfriend.

He thrust back into her. "So tight for me," Stiles moaned, listening to her breathy whimpers. "Does my cock feel good inside you, baby? Who's the only one that can make you feel like this? The only one that gets to see you like this?"

"You, Stiles," Y/N replied quickly, feeling him thrust harder and faster at her words. "You're the only person that can make me cum so hard and get me this wet. It's all for you."

Her boyfriend seemed to appreciate her words, groaning from behind her and tightening his grip on her hips. Y/N gripped the sheets in front of her, her entire body rocking with his harsh thrusts as he slid in and out of her. Each time felt better than the last, the coil in her stomach starting to tighten already. Stiles knew her like the back of his hand and he knew that even if she liked this, she couldn't cum from just his dick inside her.

His slender fingers were sliding beneath her and he yanked her up so that she was pressed against his chest which was sweaty. His other hand reached in between them and he started to make circular motions on Y/N’s sensitive clit. The girl cried out in surprise, her knees starting to tremble from where she kneeled upon them.

"Are you gonna cum again?" Stiles whispered against her ear.

Y/N nodded rapidly. "So close, Stiles. Please."

He jerked his finger in the right way, the combination of his hand and his cock driving Y/N over the edge. Stiles had to hold her together as she came undone around him, her walls clamping down on his member that continued to drive in and out of her. Her pornographic moans and the way she called his name sent Stiles tumbling quickly over the edge too.

"Y/N. Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Stiles groaned, his thrusts growing uneven and sloppy as he came.

Y/N whimpered at how sensitive she felt, clenching around Stiles as he came inside her, his seed spilling and coating her walls. He finally released her, letting her fall down onto the mattress. Stiles pulled out and fell back down next to her, the two of them panting heavily.

When he rolled onto his back, Y/N moved so that she was tucked into his arm, both still breathing heavily as they looked up at the ceiling. Stiles leaned down and pressed a short kiss to the side of her head a few minutes later.

"That was amazing, baby," Stiles murmured.

"Mhm," Y/N agreed. "We should probably actually shower now, huh?"

The hazel-eyed boy laughed and pulled her closer. "Probably."

#stiles smut #stiles stilinski #stiles imagine #stiles stilinski smut #stiles stilinski x reader #dylan o'brien #dylan o'brien x reader #dylan o'brien smut #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf #teen wolf smut #void stiles smut #dylan o'brien imagine #smut #imagine #oneshot

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angelamajiki · 3 years

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could you write a tamaki nsfw where the reader has been kidnapped and realizes that tamaki will let them take out their frustrations on him sexually 👀 and so they really take advantage of it and he just takes it/enjoys it like “hell yeah i suck” bc he feels like this is retribution since he knows kidnapping is wrong?? anyways love your writing and am obsessed with it!!!!! tamaki is best boy so i had high hopes for this account and they have been more than met bc your writing is amazing 🥰🥰🥰

[ relief - suneater AKA amajiki tamaki ]

AN: waaaaaa thank you thank you 😖 this got intense, I hope you don't mind the liberties I took with the kinks 🙈

CW: yandere, captivity, face sitting, degradation, bullying, mommy kink, choking, watersports, orgasm denial, ruined orgasm, begging, overestimation, dom reader, sub tamaki, afab terms for reader

Being captive in Tamaki’s home for the past three months has left you more pent up than you would have thought. No privacy, only getting moments of peace when he was off patrolling left very little time, space, and energy to relieve yourself. The thought of using your captor for such a reason crossed your mind many a time, but damn if your pride wouldn't let your guard down for even just a moment of relief. But if he were ever to jump your bones first, you're not sure if you would deny him of yourself.

Tamaki knew it; he knew you were horny and, most importantly, desperate. He saw the way your thighs would shyly rub together when he forced you to cuddle up for movie night or how you arched your back when spooning in the early mornings. Were you waiting for him to make a move? The poor boy was practically creaming his hero costume every time he thought about you masturbating at home, without him. Don't you know he can cater to your every whim, your every fantasy, bunny?

Coming home, he could see how tense you were, even before you acknowledged his presence. Poor thing, the move stressed sure stressed you out, huh? Not to worry, Tamaki is here to help.

“Excuse me?” you were breathless, did he really just say that?

“Sit on my face. You're so tense! I promise it’ll help you relax. O-Or we could try something else!” he pleaded, desperate to please you. “I just want to make you feel good, to relieve some stress. Won't you let me help you?”

Letting your frustrations out on him? Now that wasn't a bad idea. You were tense, in more ways than one. As toxic as it may be, you wanted nothing more than bully the poor man into a crying fit. But fuck what would be toxic. You've been in captivity, for fucks sake. Slowly, you nodded and eyed him skeptically.

“Fine, but I'm calling all the shots. Got it? We're finished when I say so.”

Tamaki nodded and practically ran to your side, clinging to your leg. Bunny said yes! Finally, finally he could prove that he would be everything you could want, everything you could need.

“Yes, yes! Please, use me however you want. I'm yours to abuse. I know you're upset with me, so please, take whatever you want out on me. I can handle it.”

A snort left your lips. This is precisely what the doctor ordered. A little bullying and a few orgasms would have you feel right as rain. Pushing him down the floor, you instructed for him to fold his arms behind his back. Naughty perverts like him don't get to touch. Peeling your bottoms and panties off, you stuffed the dirty pair in his mouth.

“A disgusting pervert like you doesn't deserve to taste me on your tongue. I'll fuck your face, but I doubt it'll satisfy you.”

How cruel you were feeling at this moment. Taking your seat, your began to drag your clit against his nose and slightly parted lips, using his throat to steady yourself as your placed both hands there.

“You’ll breathe when I say you can, pig.”

Gasping and moaning softly, you applied pressure with your hands as your sloppy cunt rubbed all over his flushed face. His muffled whimpers, his labored breathing, it was music to your ears. The wetness covered his face from chin to nose, making a mess out of your throne. As you reached your orgasm, you pulled the panties out of his mouth before completely suffocating him with your twitching pussy.

“Make me cum with that pathetic mouth if you want to breathe, slut.”

Tongue darting out, Tamaki was quick to savor his swift meal, making your squeal as your squirt on his face. Your juices sprayed onto his face and chest, your own heaving and panting as you came down from your intense high. God, the wait was almost worth it.

“Aw, did you get hard from eating mommy’s cunt? Let me fix that for you.”

Springing his dripping cock from his pants, you pressed your palm to the tip and rubbed vigorously over his slit while gripping his balls with your free hand.

“Don't even think about cumming without permission.”

Quickly overstimulating him, you soaked in the pained whimpers and cries that left his lips. Mommy, mommy, mommy, please let me cum. Please, please, please. What a pathetic dog he was.

“And why should I let you, hmm? You agreed that I would take the reigns but I never said you were allowed to cum.”

You're going to ruin this orgasm, just like he ruined your life. You'll deny him all the pleasures of having the freedom to cum as he pleases, just like he snatched your freedom from you.

“From this point forward, you will only cum and touch yourself when I allow it. Understand, boy? If you agree, I'll let you cum.”

Practically screaming at this point, a myriad of promises left Tamaki’s lips as he bucked hard into your hand, growing more desperate by the second. Releasing his balls, you take only a single finger to his cock and barely rub the tip until he’s cumming and twitching all over himself as he cries from overstimulation and the first orgasm you gave him, a ruined one.

“One more thing. You'll be my personal toilet from now on too. You want my forgiveness, right?” You cooed, stroking his tears away. “Then you'll have to earn your position under me as my slave first. Open up.”

Obediently opening his mouth, Tamaki held out his tongue in anticipation, eager to take what you want to give. Sighing gently, you began to relieve yourself, laughing as your piss streamed all over his already wet face. After you were finished, you gripped his hair in a tightly wadded fist.

“Where are your manners, bitch? Lick mommy clean.”

Whimpering, he began to suckle your clit and lick your folds, savoring your flavor before pulling him off of you and striking him in the face.

“Don't push your luck. What do we say when mommy gives you a gift?”

“T-Thank you, mommy.”

He truly was in heaven.

#yandere tamaki amajiki #tamaki amajiki #tamaki x reader #yandere tamaki x reader #yandere my hero academia #my hero academia #yandere mha #mha #yandere bnha #bnha #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere x reader #yandere #WOOF WOOF

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

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Stark Spangled Banner

Ch 13: On Your Left

Summary: Steve and Katie meet a new friend whilst out jogging, and Steve is sent on a mission to rescue a ship- the Lemurian Star…but it fast becomes apparent that not everyone on his team is pulling in the same direction.

Paring: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: Language! Smut (NSFW, 18+)

A/N: We jump forward a couple of months here and slip straight into the Winter Soldier storyline. Credit to @angrybirdcr for another lovely edit, and this re-post contains additional materiel- I’ve written the mission out instead of merely skipping over it.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 12 Part 2

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

End of March/Beginning of April 2014

“Turn it off,” Katie’s voice was muffled from the pillow she had buried her face into as the alarm rang around the dark bedroom. Steve moved slightly to turn it off, but he wasn’t fast enough for his Girlfriend’s liking. “Steve!”

With a huff he leaned over and slapped the offending item with his palm, hitting the snooze button.

“Why is it even set?” She grumbled “It’s not like you don’t normally wake up at the crack of dawn anyway…and who uses an alarm clock when they have a phone?”

“You know, no one makes you stay here.” Steve teased, with a chuckle moving so that his front was pressed to her back.

“You’ve been away for five days, I never sleep as well when you’re not here.” She mimicked his line from the night before in a baby voice.

“And that’s why the alarm is set, because I do sleep better with you.” His arms circled her waist and he grinned to himself as despite the fact she was grumpy and tired she melted into his arms as he nuzzled at her neck, revelling in her smell, her warmth.

“Jerk.” She grumbled. “I mean what time is it anyway?” There was a pause as he continued to simply breathe her in and she glanced at her phone giving a scoff as she saw the ridiculous time on the screen “5:30? In the morning. Five. Thirty…”

“You said you wanted to go running.” He murmured, his eyes still closed.

“No, you said you were going running and I said I might tag along because I’ve eaten nothing but shit whilst I’ve been in New York, which, by the way is your fault…”

“My fault?” Steve laughed, cracking an eye open “I wasn’t even there.”

“Exactly” she muttered “No one to stop me.” “I wouldn’t stop you anyway. You’re a big girl, you make your own decisions…” “Big girl? You calling me fat?” she teased as she rolled onto her back and turned her head to face his, just about making out his features in the dark room. He rolled his eyes, God she was a pain in the ass at times.

“Yeah, you’re huge.” he deadpanned, his hand travelling over her flat stomach and coming to rest on her hip. “Enormous.”

“Ok, well now that we’ve established I need to run, you know on account of me being a hippo, that still doesn’t answer the question why we have to go so damned early anyway. It’s not like we have to be anywhere…” “It’s less crowded.” he shrugged.

“Yeah, that’s because it’s a ridiculous time.”

“Stop being a fucking brat!” Steve laughed and she huffed out breath again.

“I’m not being a brat, it’s just a stupid time to be getting up.”

“I love how full of sunshine and happiness you are in the morning.” Steve muttered as he dropped his head so his lips could gently trail a few lazy kisses down her neck before landing at her collarbone and giving a quick nip, his hand tightening on her hip.

She sighed, her body already starting to respond to his touch, the way it always did, betraying her.

Damned him and his fucking bastard sex appeal.

“Okay, if you want to actually get up now…” She muttered, as his mouth travelled back up and she rolled her head back to give him access to the spot on her neck that drove her wild every time he found it. “I suggest you stop.” “I hit the snooze button.” he muttered, lips brushing her ear as he spoke. “We got about eight minutes left.”

“Eight minutes? You have a very high opinion of yourself.” Katie replied, tilting her head so she was looking at him, smirking.

Steve said nothing, just cocked a single, mischievous brow at her before his lips met hers, his hand running down from hip to thigh then across, parting her legs slightly. They were still naked from the night before, clothes strewn all over the apartment after he’d been so desperate to get his hands on her.

She moaned gently into his mouth as he slowly sank two fingers into her and her hips instantly bucked upwards, drawing a grin from his mouth.

“Easy, Baby.” He whispered, his mouth returning to her neck.

Four minutes later she lay beneath him, a quivering wreck and he was right behind her, two shallow thrusts later as he tumbled over that edge with a low groan, eyes fluttering shut as he fell forward onto her. He smirked into her neck when she had finally regained her senses enough to quip that he’d beaten his best time by a full sixty seconds. And sixty seemed to be the flavour of the day as it was almost another sixty minutes before they got to his favoured running spot, the National Mal thanks to the fact it had taken Katie half an hour minutes to locate her running shoes which she’d eventually found in her car. Steve had seized the opportunity, as always to lament her for the fact she was messy.

“I’m not messy.” She scoffed indignantly as they walked the seven blocks. “I’m just not as OCD about everything being in its right place, all the time, like a neat-freak Soldier”

The good natured jibing had continued until they reached their destination and walked through the park to the reflecting pool

“How many laps did you do last time?” Katie asked, as Steve stretched his arms upwards, cracking his back.

“Six.” he said.

She looked at him, frowning. “That’s like what? Twenty miles?”

“Nearer twenty-two.” He grinned. “You want me to keep your pace?”

She laughed “No way, you’ll just bitch at me for being slow.”

“I do not bitch…” “You bitch like a 14 year old girl.” Katie lamented, gently shoving him in his back. “Now go, go on!”

He smiled again, jogging backwards for a second before he set off at a rate of knots. Exercise always made him feel good. Running, boxing, sparring…fucking. Pushing away the dirty thoughts that had arisen to the forefront of his mind, he was quick to find a comfortable pace, his trainer clad feet slapping the concrete.

It didn’t take Katie long to find her rhythm either. Despite not being with SHIELD anymore she had kept her fitness training up, sparring three times a week with either Natasha or Steve in the local gym. She was technically still an Avenger after all, Tony having now fashioned her another Supernova suit which was basically a version of his latest Iron Man suit but in Silver and Blue, the Nova shaped star sported in the chest where the mini arc reactor powered it. She’d given it a trial run whilst she had been back in New York and was just as impressed with it now as she had been with the prototype he had blown up.

Her feet gently slapped the ground as she ran, the sun was rising on the last day of March and it was promising to be a sunny, bright spring morning.

"Hi.” A voice greeted her as another jogger she hadn’t seen before caught up with her and fell into step with her.

“Nice day for it!” Katie smiled.

“You normally run this early?” He asked “Haven’t seen you around before.”

“That’s because I don’t normally run here!” She smiled “But I just spent 5 days in New York eating crap so…!”

He laughed and held out his hand. “Sam Wilson.”

She took it and gave it a shake. “Katie Stark.”

“Well I’ll be damned!” Sam grinned “I didn’t recognise you. Nice to meet you.”

“You too.”

As Steve was about to lap Katie for the first time he noticed she was running with another jogger, a black man wearing a grey sweater with short, cropped hair. At one time this would have sparked the green eyed monster in his chest, but not now. Not only did he know she wouldn’t stand for it, but he knew she was just sociable in general. She would talk to anyone given the chance and moreover, she was his girl, he knew that. As he approached them he breathed out an “On your left.” as a warning as he sped past into his second lap.

Sam frowned, looking round and Katie smirked, trying not to laugh at the look on his face as Steve’s frame whizzed off into the distance.

“I never tire of looking at these.” She commented a short while later as they rounded the monument.

Again the sound of heavy footsteps came. “On your left.”

“On your left.”

“Uh-huh. On my left. I got it.” Sam called after him as he entered his fifth lap.

Katie didn’t even try to stop herself this time and she laughed at the slight look of frustration on Sam’s face.

Not long after they were making a lap around the pool at the base of the memorial. Sam gritted his teeth at the wholly unwelcomed sound of footsteps behind him once again, he looked over his shoulder “Don’t say it. Don’t you say it!”

“On your left.”

“Come on!” Sam shouted and Steve allowed an amused smile to spread across his face.

Sam tried his hardest to pick up his speed to match that of Steve’s but failed miserably after only a few moments, now completely gassed out.

“Are you alright?” Katie asked laughing as she approached his hunched over figure, catching her own breath.

“Oh, here he comes…Superman himself…” Sam said gesturing to where Steve was now walking towards them, hands on his hips. He paused at his girl’s side and looked down at Sam.

“Need a medic?” he teased.

“I need a new set of lungs.” Sam chuckled breathlessly. “Dude, you just ran like thirteen miles in thirty minutes.”

“Guess I got a late start.” He shrugged, shooting Katie a pointed look. She responded with her best innocent stare, batting her eyelids at him. Rolling his eyes, he turned his attention back to the stranger who began to talk again.

“You should be ashamed of yourself. You should take another lap.” He scolded jokingly. “Did you just take it? I assume you just took it.”

Steve smiled, he couldn’t help but like this man. As he looked at him, he noticed the military symbol on his grey sweater.

“What unit were you with?” Steve asked changing the subject and motioning to the man’s shirt.

“Fifty-eighth, Para-rescue. But now I’m working down at the VA. Sam Wilson.” He said motioning for help up.

“Steve Rogers.” Steve held out his hand and pulled Sam to his feet.

“I kind of put that together.” Sam said as he tried to catch his balance. “Must have freaked you out, coming round after the whole defrosting thing.”

“It takes some getting used to. But I’ve had help.” He smiled, looking at Katie who grinned back. “Good to meet you Sam.”

“Yeah, bye Sam!” Katie smiled as Steve gently placed his hand on her lower back to steer her away.

"It’s your bed right?” Sam called out from behind him.

Steve paused and they both turned back around. “What’s that?”

“Your bed, it’s too soft.” Sam went on to explain. “When I was over there, I’d sleep on the ground and use rocks as pillows. Like cavemen. Now I’m back home, in my own bed, feels like-”

Steve cut him off. “Like lying on a marshmallow, feels like I’m gonna sink right to the floor.”

"How long?” He asked Sam

“Two tours.” Sam responded. “You must miss the good old days huh?”

“Well, things aren’t so bad.” He folded his arms, taking a quick glance at Katie who raised her eyebrow at him, teasingly. “Foods a lot better. We used to boil everything. No polio that’s good.” He paused before making a gesture with his hand. “Internet so helpful, I’ve been reading that a lot tryna’ catch up.”

Sam nodded and then moved his right hand from where it had been folder across his chest and held it, fingers extended. “Marvin Gaye, 1972, ‘Troubleman’ soundtrack.” He said, returning his arm to its resting position “Everything you’ve missed jammed into one album.”

“Ohhh man!” Katie groaned “I love that film.”

Steve nodded, smiling and pulled out the notebook she had bought him the previous year, “I’ll put it on the list.”

“We can download it later.” Katie offered. Steve smiled as he closed his book before he reached into his other pocket for his phone which was going off. It was Natasha.

'Mission Alert. Extraction imminent. Meet you at the curb :)’

He showed the message to Katie who read it whilst he looked over at Sam.

“Well Sam, duty calls. Thanks for the run. If that’s what you wanna call running.” He joked extending his hand.

“Oh that’s how it is?” Sam says amused shaking the offered hand.

“That’s how it is.” Steve responded, laughing slightly.

“Okay, anytime you two wanna stop by the VA. Make me look awesome in front of the girl at the front desk, just let me know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Steve said as Natasha pulled up in her black chevvy sports car.

“Hey guys, anyone know where the Smithsonian is? I’m here to pick up a fossil.” She quipped.

“Hey Nat!” Katie waved at her and she nodded whilst Steve simply shook his head.

“That’s hilarious.” He commented dryly as he turned to Katie. “I’ll call you as soon as I can, okay?” She took a deep breath. “Be careful.” She instructed as she leaned up to give him a kiss. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Steve made his way to the car, opened the passenger side of the car and dropped into the seat.

“How you doing?” Sam called with a smile as he squat down to get a better view of both Natasha and the car.

“Hey.” She responded with a small smile.

“Can’t run everywhere.” Steve joked smugly, looking back at the man.

“No you can’t.” Sam chuckled and Steve shot one last look at Katie who waved as Natasha surged the car forward.

Katie watched them go before she turned to Sam.

“Military girlfriend huh?” He teased and she laughed.

“Something like that.” “Fancy a coffee?” Sam nodded to one of the stands parked over on the square and she smiled.

“Sure, why not?”

Sam insisted on paying, despite Katie’s protests and they took their coffees over to a bench, sitting down in the early morning sun. As they talked, Katie fast realised she really liked this man, and he was pretty damned interesting too. He told Katie about his time serving in Afghanistan and how he had chosen, post the loss of his partner, Riley, to leave active service and focus his attention on helping others through work at the VA.

Katie had never really dug into the VA much, but it seemed like it did some pretty good work, helping those Soldiers who needed help adjusting to life post discharges for medical or mental health reasons. Sam confided in her that the DC branch was under threat due to lack of funding, and she made a mental note to speak to Tony about it being something that maybe the Stark Relief fund could look into partnering.

When they both realised they had been sat on the bench chatting for almost an hour and a half the pair of them both, knowing they had other places to be, exchanged numbers and she promised to pass his onto Steve.

The rest of her day went pretty quick, in a flourish of telephone conferences and various other ad-hoc emails to deal with, talking to the editors and Business Development team about potential authors to target. By the time she logged off for the evening it was gone eight. She leaned back in her chair, glancing up at the photos that decorated her office, her eyes being drawn to the one on the shelf of herself and Steve which had been taken at the New Years Eve gala last year.

Picking up her phone she debated texting him, but she knew better than to bother him. From personal experience, STRIKE missions were heavy going. Instead she decided she was going to break with their usual routine whereby he would come to hers if it wasn’t too late post mission, and she was going to wait for him at his.

******

“The target is a mobile satellite launch platform: The Lemurian Star.” Rumlow spoke, moving images along a screen as they all stood watching as the jet flew over the Indian ocean. “They were sending up their last payload when pirates took them, ninety-three minutes ago.”

“Any demands?” Steve asked.

“A billion and a half.”

“Why so steep?” Steve asked, frowning. That wasn’t so much steep as fucking vertical.

“Because it SHIELD’s.” Rumlow replied and Steve took a deep breath.

“So it’s not off-course, its trespassing.” He said exasperatedly, turning to his left and looking at Natasha.

“I’m sure they have a good reason.” She met his eyes, her face not faltering for a second.

“You know, I’m getting a little tired of being Fury’s janitor.” Steve raised his eyebrows as she looked back at the screen.

“Relax.” She drawled. “It’s not that complicated”

“How many pirates?” Steve looked back at Rumlow.

“Twenty-five.” he replied, once more swiping at the screen. “Top mercs, led by this guy. Georges Batroc” he pulled up a photo of Batroc on the monitor. “Ex-DGSE, Action Division. He’s at the top of Interpol’s Red Notice. Before the French demobilized him, he had thirty-six kill missions. This guy’s got a rep for maximum casualties.”

“Hostages?” Steve pressed.

“Uh…mostly techs. One officer, Jasper Sitwell.” Rumlow flashed up Sitwell’s photo and Steve shifted slightly “They’re in the galley.”

“What’s Sitwell doing on a launch ship?” He queried, an air of frustration in his tone as he pulled on his gloves before he took a breath and issued his instructions without waiting for an answer. “Alright, I’m gonna sweep the deck and find Batroc. Nat, you’ll kill the engines and wait for instructions. Rumlow, you sweep up after, find the hostages, get them to the life-pods, get ‘em out. Let’s move.”

“STRIKE, you heard the Cap. Gear up.” Rumlow nodded to his team and they all began to bustle around the jet.

Steve moved towards the back, checking his ear piece, raising his wrist communicator to his mouth. “Secure channel seven.”

“Seven secure.” Nat picked up a few more bits of equipment from the shelves, passing a coms device to Evans as Steve walked behind her to the ramp. “Did you do anything fun Saturday night?”

“Well, seeing as all the guys from my barbershop quartet are dead, I had to settle for a movie and pizza with my girl.” He shrugged as he fit his ear piece, a smile tugging at his face. “Yeah, it was fun.”

Natasha grinned and Evans gave a chuckle as the pilot spoke into his ear. “Coming up by the drop zone, Cap.”

Steve punched the button to lower the ramp before he grabbed his helmet.

“You know, I think it’s cute. You’re like a regular, normal couple.” Evans said, and Steve turned to him as he fastened the straps on his helmet.

“That’s because we are normal.” He replied, a little louder as the noise of the air blowing through the ramp surrounded them. Steve grabbed his shield and swung it onto his back, the irony of his statement making him smile even more as he walked towards the end of the ramp.

“Yeah, because most people do this type of stuff for a living.” Natasha shot after him and he turned to face her, smirking.

“Well, at least it doesn’t get boring.” He grinned, before he threw himself off the jet.

“Was he wearing a parachute?” Rollins turned to Rumlow who gave a huff of a smile.

“No. No, he wasn’t.”

Steve held his arms and hands out to the side of himself as he was free falling through the air, before he shifted, straightening his legs out below him and crossing his arms over his chest. He speared straight into the ice cold water below and, after a moment to adjust, he started swimming toward the ship, using the anchor chain to climb up onto the deck. He dropped silently over the railings and grabbed the guard who had walked past seconds before in a choke hold, rendering him unconscious as noiselessly as he could. Then he set off at a sprint and it wasn’t long before he encountered two more of the pirates. Using his shield he hit the first one and took him down then sent the vibranium weapon flying once more where it ricocheted off the hull of the boat and took down the second. He caught it and continued running around the side of the deck where he encountered another three. The first one he dispatched with a harsh kick, taking the others down with a quick leg swipe and a harsh punch to the face. The next one he saw wasn’t looking so Steve sped up and used his momentum to shoulder barge him over the side of the ship, before he launched at the next one, taking him down with a swinging choke hold. The one after had a knife, which was slightly more inconvenient, but Steve managed to disarm him and used the dagger he now had possession of to pin one of the other guards hands to the wall as he was reaching up to hit the alarm button, before knocking him out with a kick to the head.

That was how it went for the most of it. Steve ran the entire deck, taking everyone down using his shield, arms, legs, body, any means he had before anyone could raise the alarm. And he was almost home and dry, until he dispatched of what he thought was the final merc, until as he caught his shield, he heard the click of a gun right behind his head.

“Bouge pas!” The man spoke and Steve tilted his head slightly to glance at the man in his peripheral, understanding the words to mean don’t move. So he didn’t, especially not as he had just spotted Rumlow drifting down towards the deck. The STRIKE leader shot at the pirate, taking him down and landed a few feet away.

“Thanks.” Steve nodded to him.

“Yeah. You seemed pretty helpless without me.” Rumlow joked and Steve turned to see Natasha and Evans parachute down onto the deck to join them.

“So you know you said before about things not getting boring?” Natasha asked as they strode across the deck, Steve slinging his shield onto his back. “If you ever need any tips on how to keep it from getting boring in the bedroom, just ask.”

Steve shook his head and let out a groan.

“When you gonna ask her to move in with you?” Nat continued.

“Secure the engine room, then we can talk about my sex life and living arrangements.” Steve deadpanned back

“I’m multitasking” Nat sing-songed as she effortlessly hopped over a set of railings, disappearing onto the lower part of the deck.

Steve set off at a run, vaulting up a few steps, using railings to swing himself onto the higher level of the ship before he stopped just below the bridge, shooting one of Lawson’s listening devices at the windows. He listened in as Batroc instructed his men to fire the engines and then Steve retreated to a spot where he could see Batroc clearly through the window of the control bridge. Crouching down he continued to listen into their conversation, easily able to understand the French they were speaking, one of his many skills picked up in the war. It had come easy post the serum, as with everything it had enhanced his ability to memorise and grasp things like that.

Batroc was being informed by one of his officers about the radio silence from SHIELD and Steve watched carefully before Evans’ voice cut across the jabbers of French.

“Targets acquired”

“STRIKE in position” Rumlow replied.

“Natasha, what’s your status?” Steve whispered into his wrist coms, but there was no reply. “Status, Natasha?”

“Hang on!” She said loudly, and Steve waited as he heard a bit of a struggle before she spoke again twenty or so seconds later. “Engine room secure.”

That was it, they were clear to engage.

“On my mark” Steve whispered “Three. Two. One.”

With that he set off running towards the bridge, leaping up a small set off steps before he flung his shield through the window. He jumped in after it and Batroc caught him with a kick to the chest before sprinting off and kicking his way out of the door. Steve jumped up, wrenched his shield from where it had been wedged in the metal panels at the back of the control room and ran after him.

“Hostages on route to extraction.” Rumlow informed as Steve emerged onto the end of a set of steps. “Romanoff missed the rendezvous point, Cap.” The STRIKE leader continued as Steve jumped down onto the main area of the deck. “Hostiles are still in play.”

Steve looked around before he turned on his heels and started walking “Natasha, Batroc’s on the move.” He instructed quietly into his coms. “Circle back to Rumlow and protect the hostages.”

There was no reply, and Steve was starting to get pissed off at her radio silence.

“Natasha!”

But then, out of nowhere Batroc flew at him with another harsh kick which sent Steve flying, and no sooner had he righted himself, there came another. The two engaged, toe to toe, fists flying, legs kicking, arms blocking and Steve had to hand it to Batroc, even after he knocked him down with his shield, the man was quickly back on his feet. Steve aimed a knee to his gut and flipped him backwards only to see Batroc effortlessly fling himself into several back flips before landing on his feet a short distance away, smirking as he eyed Steve up.

“Je croyais que tu étais plus qu'un bouclier.” He chuckled slightly and Steve cocked his head to one side, chewing over the man’s words… I thought that you were more than just a shield.

The arrogance in Steve won out and he straightened up out of his attack stance. You wanna go, fucker? Fine. Let’s dance.

He took a breath, stashing his shield on the harness round his back, and undid his chin strap, pulling his helmet off. “On va voir.” He said simply, tossing it to the floor, his eyes not once leaving Batroc’s who gave a huge grin.

They dodged for a second or two before they began to fight once more, trading punches, kicks and a few more knees to the gut before Steve threw himself up into the air, twirling his body round into a huge over-head kick, connecting his boot straight with Batroc’s head. Batroc fell to the floor and soon staggered back to his feet, but Steve didn’t give him chance to recover properly. He ran at him, spearing them both through a door, and sitting up slighting, Steve knocked Batroc out with a huge punch to the head.

He took a moment to draw his breath when a voice rang out across the room.

“Well, this is awkward.”

He looked up to see Natasha smirking at him from where she was bent over a computer.

“What are you doing?” Steve demanded as he rose to his feet.

“Backing up the hard drive. It’s a good habit to get into.” She retorted.

Steve glanced over his shoulder, happy Batroc was still out cold, before he strode purposefully towards her.

“Rumlow needed your help. What the hell are you doing here?” He drew up behind her and glanced at the screens. As it registered what she was doing he shook his head in exasperation. “You’re saving SHIELD Intel.”

“Whatever I can get my hands on.” She drawled, still tapping at the computer as she looked at him, before turning back to the screen.

“Our mission is to rescue hostages.” Steve glared at her.

“No. That’s your mission.” Natasha corrected as she finished what she was doing and pulled the pen drive out of the slot. She turned towards him and smiled causing Steve’s anger to bubble even more. “And you’ve done it beautifully.” Her tone was almost patronising as she smirked, moving to pass him.

At that, Steve felt his temper snap and he grabbed her arm stopping her in her tracks. “You just jeopardized this whole operation.”

“I think that’s overstating things.” Natasha stated calmly but before Steve had time to reply a movement caught his attention. Batroc stood up and threw a grenade at the two of them as he ran off. Steve deflected the bomb with his shield before he grabbed Natasha round the waist and hopped up onto the desks. Jumping to another one, Natasha shot out one of the glass windows into an internal office and they dived in just as the bomb exploded.

Smoke, ash and debris rained down on them and Steve gave it a second before he looked over his shoulder and out before sitting back down to take a moment. He was beyond pissed off. Pissed at Natasha and pissed at Fury for not bothering to tell him the full story.

“Okay. That one’s on me.” Natasha breathed out.

“You’re damn right.” Steve grit his teeth and pushed himself up, storming out in anger. Of course, Batroc was nowhere to be found.

**** Steve was that angry about the cluster-fuck of a mission that he didn’t speak a word to Natasha all the way home and yes, he knew it was childish, but he was getting seriously pissed off at the secrets and lies that seemed to be part and parcel of any goddamned mission Fury sent him on. Once back at base he stormed off the jet, ignoring pretty much everyone and simply barking out that they would debrief in the morning.

It was just before midnight when he got home, and as he pulled his bike up into the designated space allotted for his apartment, he noticed Katie’s car was in one of the guest spaces that lined the street. He frowned slightly, she never normally waited at his for him. Not for any particular reason other than he normally spent the hours or so after a mission debriefing before heading home to decompress for a few hours and then if it wasn’t too late he would head to hers. But the more he thought about it now he realised that he had no idea why he did it that way. It wasn’t like she didn’t understand what it was like being a SHIELD operative, or that he didn’t want her at his.

Knowing that she was there made him smile for the first time since he’d left the Lemurian Star and, despite his various aches and bruises, he found himself taking the steps to his apartment three at a time, his eagerness to see her wiping all other thoughts from his mind.

She was on the couch, bare denim-short clad legs tucked underneath her, and she looked up from the TV as he walked into the living area and leaned in the doorway, smiling softly at the sight of her, hair tousled slightly from where she had been leaning her head against the arm of the couch.

“What are you doing here?” He asked gently as she sat up.

“Decided I’d wait for you.” She shrugged “You complaining?” “Not at all.” He smiled, turning away as he unzipped his jacket and hung it over the back of one of the stools by the breakfast bar before he crossed the room.

“You had a good day?” He asked.

“Yeah.” She replied as he walked back into the lounge. “Vanity Fair have written the article already, if I’m happy with it tomorrow then it’s going to be published this month.”

Steve couldn’t help but smile at her tone. She was proud, and she had every right to be. So was he. Stark Independent Publishing LTD had taken off like a rocket and the glossy magazines were queuing up to interview the youngest Stark prodigee. She had declined all of them until the board had suggested she do one interview for Vanity Fair, along with a photoshoot in her office. She’d reluctantly agreed, but had confided in Steve she’d actually kind of enjoyed it.

“That’s fast.” he said, heading back into the room.

“Yeah they’re really pushing for it.” She smiled as he dropped besides her with a groan, lifting her legs up so they crossed his lap. As he did so he jostled the bruised ribs and muscles he’d obtained on the Lemurian Star and let out a hiss, rubbing slightly at his torso. Katie spotted this, as always, and frowned, moving her legs so she was sat up, scooting over to where he was and gently tugged at his t-shirt. He didn’t stop her as she examined the large bruise over the side of his ribs and gently ran her fingers over it.

“Ouch.” She mumbled softly, looking up at him and then tilting his face round. He knew there was a small cut on his temple but other than that and the bruise to his side he was uninjured. “Is this it?”

He nodded.

“So how did you do it this time?”

“I got blown through a window.” Because that was a perfectly normal thing for Captain America to do, Katie merely rolled her eyes and dropped a kiss to his cheek as she stood up “I’ll get the arnica and fix you something to eat”

He loved this, the way she just wanted to take care of him, but he was aware of what time it was too, and he didn’t want her to feel like she had to play the dutiful housewife.

“Kitten, you should go to bed, its late.” He grabbed her hand. “Once I’ve patched you up and fed you I will.” She shrugged stubbornly, tugging gently on his hand and he allowed himself to be pulled up “Go take a shower, I’ll sort your dinner.”

This time he didn’t protest, simply smiled, dropped a kiss to her head and headed to the bathroom.

He stepped under the hot water cascading from the shower and let out a groan as it hit his body, allowing it temporarily to soothe his mind and his aches. He still couldn’t shake his annoyance at how the mission was gone. Suddenly, he was distracted by his stomach grumbling and he realised he was actually really hungry. He quickly washed off before cutting the water and stepping out, grabbing a towel. He could hear Katie in the kitchen as he walked down the hall towards his bedroom where he dried himself off and dressed in a pair of loose sweats and a grey T-shirt.

The smell of food hit his nostrils as he walked into the kitchen, making his mouth water. Her food was always good, he had no idea what he was in for tonight but he didn’t care. As he approached where she was stood, both his hands dropped to her hips and he placed a soft kiss on her neck, an easy sign of affection before he let out a heavy sigh and reached into the refrigerator.

“So, you wanna tell me what happened?” She asked, turning to look at him as he downed pretty much an entire bottle of water before he slumped down at the breakfast bar and explained everything to her. She listened, asked questions, shook her head, and when he reached the bit about the ransom she whistled slightly through her teeth, coming to the same conclusion he had when he heard the demand.

“That’s steep.” she frowned and Steve snorted.

“That’s what I said. Turns out its SHIELDS.“

The microwave finished and Katie moved to open the door, stirring whatever was in there before removing it and placing it down in front of him, along with a plate of his favourite bread. He was silent for a moment as he stirred the hot stew, Ghoulash, before taking a small mouthful to test the heat. Damned she could cook. He nodded appreciatively.

“It’s good.” “You sound surprised.”

“Behave.” He admonished, giving her a look. “You know what I think about your cooking.”

He continued to eat as she stood up and fished about in the cupboard he stored the bottle of Arnica gel she insisted he keep to hand. As he ate, she settled next to him and hitched his shirt up, gently and carefully applying the ointment to his side. The bruise extended from the middle of his rib cage to an inch or so beneath the band of his sweats.

It was relaxing, and he relished her touch and her gentle tone as she continued to talk.

“So did you get the hostages?”

“Yeah.” He nodded in between mouthfuls. “That bit was pretty easy all things considered.”

“So what’s wrong, love?”

She could tell there was more to his mood than what he had told her, and her instincts were proven right when he let out a soft sigh as she continued to rub at his side softly.

“I’m just annoyed Sweetheart.” He sighed eventually “At Fury, at Romanoff.”

“At Nat? Why?”

“She was running a separate mission, which meant the task I gave her to back Rumlow up with the hostages wasn’t done.”

“Fury?”

He nodded.

“More secrets” Katie sighed, feeling a flash of anger. “You know this is exactly why I got out…legacy or no legacy.”

“Tell me about it.” He dropped the spoon into the empty bowl. “We were lucky no one was hurt, or worse. I mean, Rumlow was great, got everyone out but, Doll, how can I lead a team when half of them are lying to me?”

“Nat was just doing as she was told.” Katie spoke softly, trying to deal with each issue one at a time.

“Since when is retrieving Intel more important than people’s lives?”

“I’m not saying it is. I’m just saying don’t be so hard on her.” She reasoned, her fingers still tracing shapes on his skin. “She has a job to do, same as you. Its Fury you should be talking to about it.”

“Oh I intend to.” Steve snorted. “I’m going to go see him tomorrow morning after de-brief…”

“Well, at least you’ll get an explanation. I mean it might not be what you wanna hear but…”

She was right, of course. Pushing it from his mind, Steve concentrated on her touch as she was still gently rubbing his side. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh of contentment, and was disappointed when she finally finished and let his t-shirt fall down before she stood up to put the ointment away.

“You want any more to eat?” She asked, once she’d washed the arnica off her hands.

“Is there any?” He looked at her hopefully.

She smiled, nodding, and then gave a small yawn which she tried to stifle, but Steve noticed it.

“Okay, I’ll warm some more up and you’re gonna go to bed.” He said, standing up “And that’s an order.”

“Bossy bastard” She retorted. He replied simply with a raised an eyebrow and stern glare as he crossed towards her. She held her hands up, “Okay, I’m going…” She leaned up to kiss to his cheek.

“Won’t be long.” He smiled.

Steve had another bowl of food before he slipped the dishes into the dishwasher and headed to the bathroom to clean his teeth. He turned off the lights, crossed into the dark bedroom and pulled off his T-shirt, sliding into bed behind Katie. His arm curled over her waist, surprise surprise she was in one of his shirts, which did nothing to ebb his growing desire and the twitching in his groin. Hoping she wasn’t asleep, his nose gently nuzzled at her neck, and he was pleased when she responded.

He needed this. Wanted this. Wanted her.

“When you told me to go to bed…” Katie sighed, as his lips gently started their assault on that spot, “I thought you meant to sleep.” “Want me to stop?” Steve practically purred into her neck.

“Didn’t say that.” She replied, rolling her head to catch his lips as his hand crept down her inner thigh. She let out a contented sigh and he smiled against the side of her neck as he traced his fingers over her hip, hand flattening as it crept down and round to the top of her panties, his fingers slipping inside, where he found her hot, wet, ready for him. It was enough to harden him completely as he started to gently tease her, causing her to groan at the pleasure, her back arching whilst his lips continued to kiss and caress her neck.

“Steve.” She moaned softly, her tone pleading. “I want you…”

Fuck, he would never get tired of hearing that. Ever.

“Yeah?” he whispered.

“Yeah. Please Stevie.” He didn’t think he’d ever be able to say no to her. His hand moved up and he gripped at her hip, gently rolling her so she was lay on her back, using his leg to part hers. He guided his shirt over her head, pulled down her panties, before he stripped off his boxers, fingers lacing in between hers, as he crawled over her, pinning both hands above her head as he worked his way into her. They both groaned as he stretched her, and she looked up at him, those eyes locking onto his as he leant down to kiss her, starting up a slow, gentle pace. He moved slowly, again and again, lips caressing hers, then her jaw, then her neck, all the time his hands wrapped around hers, causing her to surrender to him completely.

He kept up that soft, gentle pace, loving her completely. He could tell she was close, he knew the signs well enough now and as she groaned in delight, tightening around him he coaxed her, “That’s it baby girl…” lips soft on her ear.

And then she came, shuddering underneath him, her head tipping back, as she let out a gentle, low, broken moan of his name. It sent shivers down his spine and he continued to thrust through her orgasm, the tale heat spreading across his belly and then he tipped too, jerking and groaning slightly before he fell forward, burying his face in to her neck.

“Love you.” She whispered softly into his ear as her hand ran up his neck, into his hair and he gave a hum of contentment as he regained control of his senses.

“Love you too, so damned much, Sweetheart.” He rubbed his nose up against hers and she chuckled slightly as he rolled off of her. She scooted closer so she could lay her head on his chest and his arm curled round her, large hand tracing shapes on her skin at the bottom of her back as she tossed her leg over his.

“What time are you in tomorrow?” She asked gently, hand rubbing absentmindedly over his chest.

“Half nine.” He gave a sated yawn.

“We can have breakfast together, I made cinnamon rolls.” She muttered through a yawn of her own.

“That so?” “mmmhmmm”

“You know, you’d make a good little housewife.” He grinned, thinking back to his thought before. He knew her response before she had uttered it. “Fuck you.” He chuckled, dropping a kiss to her head and they both fell silent. And his last thought as he drifted off to sleep was just how her being here had made him almost forget his worries.

Katie lay still, listening to the sound of his breathing which grew even as he fell asleep, clearly exhausted. He always needed food and rest after missions, his metabolism drained him. She stole a glance up at him, long eyelashes lay against his cheek as his head lolled to the side slightly, facing her.

“Night soldier.” She whispered softly, placing a peck on his lips before settling down and succumbing to her own tiredness. ********* Katie woke the next morning, tangled in Steve’s arms, his face pressed into her neck as he’d done his usual koala impression. As gently as she could, she moved to check her phone for the time, and found it to be twenty-five past seven, five minutes before her alarm was due to go off. Cancelling it, she glanced back over at Steve who shifted onto his back, the arm that had been thrown around her gently resting on his chest. Smiling, she climbed out of bed deciding to leave him to sleep as long as she could.

Considering what a light sleeper he normally was, Steve didn’t stir when Katie returned following her shower and was still out of it when she finished dressing so she unset the alarm on his bedside clock and headed to the kitchen. She put on a fresh pot of coffee, threw the fresh rolls she had made the previous day into the oven and settled down on his couch, flipping on the TV whilst she quickly scanned through her phone, looking at her schedule for the day. She only had one meeting in the afternoon, and it wasn’t important so she fired an email through to her PA asking her to reschedule.

At about eight-fifteen, there was still no sign of Steve so Katie headed through to the bedroom to wake him up. Any longer and he would be late for his debrief. He was lay side on, facing her side of the bed so she dropped next to him…

Something was tickling his nose, right on the bridge. He gently sniffed, and then soft lips met his. Again, again…Steve made a completely involuntary noise that was halfway between a groan and a sigh as he realised his girl was kissing him awake, before her lips met his and this time he gently responded.

“Hey.” That soft voice greeted him and he smiled, gently cracking an eye open and meeting that emerald green.

“Morning” He said groggily and she smiled.

“It’s almost eight-fifteen.”

He frowned, that was late. “My alarm didn’t wake me?” “I turned it off, sorry-not-sorry” She said with a tone so blasé it made him chuckle “You needed the rest.” She gave him a soft kiss again “There’s coffee in the kitchen and breakfast is ready.” “You know I could get used to this” He rolled over so he was on his back as she rose from the bed. “Coming home to a ready-made dinner, waking up to ready-made breakfast before I go to work. And you.” “Nice to see which one of those is your priority.” She teased over her shoulder as she left him to it.

“Always you, Doll.” he murmured with a smile. But as he lay still for another few minutes, he thought about it more and more. Over the past four months, other than when they were away either on missions or business trips they had spent every night together, either at his or hers but last night, something had felt different to him, more intimate. She’d taken care of his mission injuries, cooked for him, made love to him, and now here she was making him breakfast before she would wave him off to work later on. It was almost normal, what people with mundane nine to five jobs did. And he realised he wanted that all the time, he wanted to come home, find her there, wake up with her, every single day.

“When you gonna ask her to move in?” Natasha’s voice popped back into his head.

If he was honest, he hadn’t given it a lot of thought, it wasn’t something people did back in his time before marriage. But times were different, hell he was different, and as he lay there contemplating it, he realised, it wasn’t such a bad idea.

When he headed through, Katie was sat at the kitchen table, laptop fired up, mobile glued to her ear.

“I know!” Her tone was one of utter excitement. “I mean I didn’t think they would turn out so good…or they’d be done so fast but they’re pushing for this month’s edition…”

He dropped a kiss to her neck and glanced at the screen, pausing when he saw the image. It must have been one of the photos done whilst she was in New York and as he looked at it, he felt his mouth drop open. His girl was stood against a wall in her office in the tower, one leg bent, high heeled foot raised back against the flat surface behind her, palms splayed either side of her thighs as she looked to the right. Her hair was pulled back in a slick, high pony tail, her make-up was heavier than normal and utterly flawless, and she was dressed in a grey charcoal pinstripe suit which cinched in at her waist, with a low cut white blouse underneath.

“Yeah, I know Tony.” She continued speaking into the phone as she glanced up and saw the expression on his face. She pressed a button on the keyboard and it flipped to another picture, this one of her sat in her chair, legs apart, elbows resting on her knees, as she looked beyond the camera, laughing at something. She looked absolutely fucking stunning. His eyes roved the image on the digital copy of the article and he began to read the writing that was next to it.

There are a lot of things you might absolutely hate about Katie Stark. Aged just twenty-nine she has more money than anyone could possibly wish to spend in a life-time, looks and a figure that you would kill for, and a Super Soldier Boyfriend with a jawline that seems to be carved from marble. However, after thirty seconds in her company despite wanting to hate her for all of the above, it was simply impossible not to like her.

Unassuming, accommodating, and with a smile that you simply can’t help but return, she welcomed us into her office and was remarkably humble about the entire thing, admitting that she still wasn’t quite so sure why we were so interested in her. We took the time to grill her on how the first three months of Stark Independent Publishing LTD has gone and what we can look forward to in the future.

Katie stood up and gestured for him to sit down and carry on reading the article. She headed off into the living room, continuing her call, so he read as he ate a hot cinnamon bun. The article ploughed through a load of questions about the book that had launched the business when they published, the fact the company had already registered over fifty-percent first quarter turnover, where she thought the business was going, future pipeline projects, her favourite authors, genre, books, previous role in Stark Industries before she had spent a few years working for a Government Agency following the Battle of New York (no mention of Supernova or SHIELD) and then the final paragraph took a personal turn.

When asked if she would indulge us with a personal question she sighed slightly before grinning and telling us to ask and see if she answered. So we did…

“We know that you’re a notoriously private person, in comparison to your brother anyway, but most of our readers are dying to know…what’s it like dating Captain America?”

“No idea, I’m dating Steve Rogers.” She replied immediately, a faint flush hitting her cheeks as she spoke, all the time fiddling with a delicate yet gorgeous antique looking emerald ring which sits on her right hand, a gift we suspect from the man in question. When asked to elaborate slightly, she bit her lip and simply smiled before explaining; “Steve isn’t just Captain America. There’s more to him than a shield. He’s the kindest, gentlest, most caring man I’ve ever met and he makes me unbelievably happy.” The blush spread from her cheeks to her ears “And that’s not down to the Serum or outfit, it’s just who he is. The fact he’s 6ft2, drop dead gorgeous with a smile I’d happily die for is a bonus.”

Steve felt himself grin as he read the words and glanced at the small photo they had framed the paragraph round. It was the shot of them together that had been taken at the Stark Industry’s New Year’s Gala as they danced. His eyes continued to the final part of the article, this one complete with a picture of Katie and Tony. Katie sat at her desk as Tony leaned over, looking at something on the computer screen.

When asked about the other man in her life, her brother Tony, she smiled again, another genuine smile, the love she has for her elder sibling evident on her face and in her voice.

“I owe everything I have to Tony. He brought me up from the age of seven, gave me absolute, unconditional love and opportunities I know I was extremely fortunate to have. People have a pre-conceived image of what he is like, and sometimes he can play into that, but to me he’s been nothing but loving and supportive, my father and brother rolled into one and I can’t thank him enough for everything he has done and given me. He backed my decision to open SIP from the off and believed in me and has always pushed me to be the best I can be.”

We couldn’t resist another personal question, so we asked her a little cheekily how Tony had reacted to news that she was dating one of his fellow Avengers, who had served alongside their Father Howard in WW2. Hesitating slightly, she flushed before smirking and answering, a grin on her face.

“How he found out wasn’t ideal, but once he realised we were serious, he was fine about it. I think deep down after my last car crash of a relationship, he’s just happy I’m with someone who puts me first.”

“Do they get on?” At that she laughed. “They have a love-hate relationship. In that they hate the fact they love one another. Tony has these ridiculous nicknames for Steve and he can be an absolute nightmare at times, but to be fair Steve’s quite sarcastic himself too but I know full well that they have each other’s six and, even though they would probably deny it, they are quite close and would miss one another if they weren’t around.”

Steve, grudgingly, had to admit she was right. Tony could be a pain in the ass at times, but he would miss the billionaire if he wasn’t there. Underneath all his bravado he knew that he thought the world of his sister and, despite their initial meeting whereby Steve frankly thought the guy was a dick, he’d fast learnt during the Chitauri Battle that underneath that persona he had a heart of gold and was more like his father than he would care to admit. A fact that Steve was even more convinced of having gotten to know him much better on a personal level over the last two years or so.

Whilst the siblings certainly share a lot of attributes, both good looking, tough, hard-working, Katie has a certain softness to her edges and we challenge anyone who spends time in her company not to warm to the youngest Stark. Stark Independent Publishing has, in our opinion, a very bright future ahead of it whilst it is spearheaded by such an astute and shrewd business woman and we wish her all the best.

“What do you think?” Katie watched as Steve read the article, leaning against the wall, nibbling at her thumb, nervous to see his reaction.

Steve jerked his head round and smiled at her. “I think it’s fantastic. The photos are stunning, the article is well written. Are you happy with it?” “Yeah.” she nodded as she walked over to his chair, standing behind it and slipping her arms round his shoulders from behind “They wouldn’t drop the whole So you’re dating Captain America angle though, so our PR department told me to answer a few personal questions to shut them up. Are you ok with it?” Steve smiled and turned side on in his seat, pulling her into his lap. “Seeing as I’m the kindest, gentlest, most caring man you’ve ever met how could I not be?” “I meant every word of that.” She smiled, rubbing her nose against his.

“I know baby.” He gave her a peck on the lips. “Now I need to go or I’m gonna be late.”

Sighing she stood up as he did the same, grabbing a final cinnamon bun from the plate.

“I’ll be back at mine” She informed him as she walked to the door with him, “I have a few calls to do this morning.” “I’ll come over when I’m done.” He smiled. “And maybe we can do something this afternoon?”

“Sounds perfect”

***** Chapter 14

**Original Posting**

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers smut #mcu #mcu fanfic #captain america #katie star #chris evans #chris evans characters

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thevioletjones · 3 years

Note

I’d love to see you tackle 5 or 44! Congrats on the Kudos!

Thank you! 5 was included previously, so just 44. 🙂 This one is explicit, FYI.

Prompt 5: “I still remember the way you taste.”

Cell Date

Getting smart about how he acted behind bars was really starting to pay off for Mickey. Not only was he staying out of trouble so that he’d have a chance of making early parole, he was also forging advantageous relationships, mostly with the guards and the old-timers that liked to do good deeds like helping other inmates get an education or decent legal representation.

Little things like that, plus abstaining from shanking for pay or cold-cocking bitches who got mouthy, were making this Mickey’s most pleasant and drama-free stint in prison since his unceremonious induction into juvie ten years previous.

Along with his cooperation and best behavior came some quality perks: first pick of audiobooks from the dude he helped in the library; extra jello, pudding, and french fries from that dude’s kitchen husband; extended yard and gym time when the guard he had people doing favors for on the outside was on duty; and the holy grail, his very own recently acquired smartphone, which he could keep with him in his cell whenever the right people were working, and otherwise stow with a friend when sweep checks were imminent. All he had to do to get safekeeping was provide phone privilege favors. Gave him an extra source of income too, when he sold video call time to inmates on the side.

Tonight, though, he was finally gonna have the damn cell to himself all night long. His bunkmate had just been released, no one else had been assigned to his bed yet, and the overnight guard was a friendly. That meant that at long last, he’d be able to have some kind of sexual escapade with his boyfriend for the first time since he’d gotten locked up nine months ago. As a bonus, they could maybe stay up shooting the shit too. But really, Mickey was horny as hell, and he imagined that Ian was too.

They had a kind of ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ policy when it came to banging other people while they were apart, but as a rule, they weren’t allowed to do it more than once a month, or with the same guy twice, blowjobs included. That meant a lot of lonely masturbation sessions on both sides of the prison walls.

It was cruel that the only relief they could get from each other was by proxy of their own hands anyway, but at least now they’d be able to watch each other and egg each other on. It wasn’t the most ideal situation ever, but it was way better than having to stick to innocuous topics on the prison landlines that ran out at the ten minute mark.

This was going to be a treat.

He waited ’til 30 minutes past lights out just to be sure the coast was clear, counting down the minutes like a fucking schoolgirl waiting to make an illicit phone call after her parents fell asleep. As soon as the digital display hit 9:30, he was eagerly punching in the memorized number, smirking as he selected the video option.

He actually felt nervous as it rang, irrationally worried that Ian would be indisposed despite their agreed upon time and date. It took almost four whole rings before the display lit up, and a buffering vision of Ian appeared.

Mickey’s smile couldn’t help but mirror the cheerful redhead’s, and it only widened when he heard his deep, familiar voice.

“Hey, Mick.”

“Gallagher,” he replied softly and full of affection.

“I can barely see you,” Ian said with a chuckle. “That's not really fair.”

“Oh, shit, yeah. Forgot. Hang on.”

He’d managed to get his hands on a clip-on reading light through the library contraband network, so it would have to do. He dug it out from the hole in his thin-ass mattress pad and clipped it to the bar of the lower bunk, angling it toward his face and flipping it on. It wasn’t exactly super-bright, but it was good enough.

“Happy now? This is the best I could do on the after-hours lighting.”

“Yeah, I am. You look good.”

“Shut the fuck up. You look way better. Like a free man.”

Ian ran a hand through his hair, and Mickey wished it were his hand. “It is a nifty advantage, but it’d be a lot better if you were next to me.”

“Yeah, no shit. I’m getting the rawer deal here.”

“Who’s fault is that?” Ian challenged with a raised brow.

Mickey licked his lips, humming. “Didn’t realize the purpose of this call was to get on my ass about gettin’ locked up. Thought we already did that fun routine.”

Ian sighed. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I just miss you.”

“I’m doin’ what I can, gingerbread. Might get lucky in the next few months. Been playin’ the game all nice like. No demerits on my scorecard.”

“I appreciate that. You know I’ll be waiting.”

“Mm.”

“So… what’s new?”

Mickey laughed. “You want me to recount the thrilling tales of the jailbird jerk-offs? How would that be interesting or entertaining?”

“I’m pretty sure you witness more random acts of weirdness than I do everyday. You want me to talk about my job and coworkers, or my niece and nephew? I’m sure you’re dying to know on all counts.”

“Yeah, you got me figured out, Gallagher. That’s exactly why I wanted this dimly lit video call with your pale ass.”

Ian snickered. “Is this the part where we jump straight to the sex?”

Mickey shrugged and scratched his balls. “I mean, if we were in person without that fuckin’ glass between us, we woulda already been bangin’ by now.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

“So?”

“What?”

“Show me your dick.”

Ian snorted, and it was nice to see him laugh unrestrainedly. They usually didn’t do too much laughing during his visits.

“It’s not hard yet.”

“Well, what the fuck you waitin’ for? Shoulda started before I called.”

“God, Mick, you really know how to romance a guy on his first date in nearly a year.”

“If this is a date, you got a really low bar, man.”

“Haven’t I always?”

“‘Ey! Fuck you.”

Ian laughed again and it made Mickey smile wide. He was gonna get addicted to these phone interludes, he could tell.

“Which reminds me… I expect you to take me out a few times when you get sprung, Milkovich. Restaurants, clubs, movies, the works.”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Exactly how many acts of penance are on your little atonement list?”

“As many as I want. You got a problem with that?”

“You know I didn’t get locked up on purpose, right? Cuz I think you maybe don’t know that.”

“I think that I want you to stop putting yourself in situations where one of the possible outcomes is getting locked up. Cuz then we’re forced to resort to one sad long-distance video wank every nine months, which kinda fuckin’ blows, and not in the good way.”

“First of all, as long as I don’t get this shit confiscated by one of the asshole guards, we can keep doin’ this pretty regularly. Secondly, we haven’t even gotten to the wank part yet, so don’t call it sad. Also, is sex all that matters to you?”

“Says the guy who just told me to shut up and get my dick out.”

“Like you said, it’s been a long time.”

“And I’ve already told you that I miss you and want you beside me. I thought you wanted your dick stroked, not your ego.”

“Good one,” said Mickey, reaching down to fondle himself. “So how we gonna do this?”

“The only way we can, I guess.”

“Fine. Do I get to ask you to start touching yourself now?”

Ian giggled. “Yeah, yeah, let’s get it over with.”

“What kind of attitude is that? Get the hell on board or this ain’t gonna work.”

“Calm down and get your cock hard, convict boy.”

Mickey didn’t need to be told twice. He slipped his hand under the waistband of his boxers, rubbing and squeezing gently.

“You gonna give me somethin’ to look at or what?”

“Gimme a minute, fool. It’s not gonna be very pretty in its current state.”

They both went non-verbal for a while as their arms started working, the only sounds being stray gasps, rustling noises, and slick skin against skin.

“‘Kay,” urged Mickey, “lemme see it.”

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

“Fine, just flip the camera.”

Mickey pressed around and activated the rear camera with flash, licking his lips when the screen filled with Ian’s lower half, hand jerking his big dick in that perfect rhythm he remembered so well. It forced out a moan before he could catch himself.

“Mick,” Ian whispered, and he suddenly missed the feel of his boyfriend’s breath blowing hot against his skin as they fucked. And that just reminded him of the way he’d nip and lick at Mickey’s neck, or pinch his nipples at just the right time.

“Ian,” he groaned, his strokes getting faster and more deliberate now that he was fully hard. “Miss you.”

And that was definitely the lamest shit to say when you were supposed to be talking dirty for the purposes of video sex, but it’s what came out of his mouth on account of all the memories surfacing, coupled with the regret of not being able to put his hands on Ian or have Ian’s hands put on him.

Mickey had never wanted to suck a dick so badly in his entire life, simply because he was being denied the opportunity. He’d almost forgotten how delicious Ian’s cock really was. It could wreck him all night long, or Mickey could worship it a little on his hands and knees when the urge overcame him. He wanted it in him one way or the other. Keeping him away from it was cruel and unusual punishment.

“Wanna fuck you, Mick.” Ian was still using this soft, breathy voice that was making him crazy. “Wanna see your ass.”

Mickey’s hand faltered for a moment as he snickered. “How the fuck am I supposed to get you that camera angle right now, genius?”

“You really didn’t think this through enough first,” chided Ian.

“Suck my dick, Gallagher.”

“Mmm, I’d love to get my mouth on you right now. I still remember the way you taste.”

“Oh, shit.”

Mickey’s jerks got tighter with that fantasy egging him on, and silkier with the ease of the pre-cum oozing from his slit.

“You got something to stick up your ass?”

Mickey whined. “Fuckin’ wish. Don’t exactly got a dildo permit, and that’s the kinda contraband no one tries to smuggle or sell.”

“A finger or two will do, right?” asked Ian, pausing for a moment to squirt some lube into his hand.

“‘Ey! What the fuck? No fair! You want me to try and prop this thing somewhere so you can watch me finger myself without lube, and you’re gonna casually use some to jack off with right in front of me? Read the room, fuckhead.”

Ian chuckled. “Sorry, Mick. What happened to the mayo packets?”

Mickey grimaced, regretting ever having told Ian about sometimes using that condiment as lube when he wanted to spice up a solo sesh. “Shut the fuck up and just help me get a damn orgasm.”

“What else am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t fuckin’ know! What am I, the video sex expert?”

“You’re not a sexpert?”

“Now is not the time for your lame jokes, okay?”

“Yeah, okay, but I’ve never done this before either, jackass. I already made my request and you’re ignoring it. You do that for me, I’ll do something for you.”

“Fine, but if I do this for you, I won’t be able to see shit while it’s happenin’, so you have to fuckin’ wait to blow your load, or I’ll never do this with you again.”

“So is that your request? To see me blow my load?”

“Bitch, do I need to explain how porn works to you? You know how at the end of the video, you get to see everybody come? Jizz flyin’ everywhere?”

“Oh, believe me, next time we’re actually together in bed, I will cover you in jizz from head to toe.”

“That’s a lofty goal. Could take a while.”

“I’m willing to put in the hours. Now… get to it.”

Mickey sighed and let his cock fall out of his grip, glancing around to try and figure out how he could set the camera up in a decent place to where it would actually get what Ian wanted in frame.

“You’re gonna have to tell me if I need to adjust it, but I don’t have a lot of options, so just tell me when it’s good enough. Don’t need to get all Scorcese with the precision.”

It took a couple of minutes to figure out something that worked, his erection flagging to half-mast as he concentrated on the task Ian had given him. He was pretty sure that Ian should be the one going out of his way to give Mickey a nice show, but he figured if he let Ian have one first, he could make requests for their next long-distance fuck date.

Once Ian said it was good, Mickey kneeled and sat on his haunches, body remaining upright. He could only imagine what his asshole looked like through that badly lit phone camera, but whatever. At least he didn’t have to look at it. Ian could go crazy for it if he wanted to, and apparently he was if the renewed moaning was any indication.

“Get it wet,” Ian directed.

Mickey licked his palm and gave his cock a few tugs to get it back into the game, then spit in his hand and did what he could to work it around his hole. He was crouched with the damn top bunk rubbing against his bent head, with no view other than stiff white sheets and his own thighs and dick.

Yes, Ian was going to owe him a nice fucking show for this crap.

“Well?” the cocky little prick demanded. “Play with it.”

“Hold your damn horses, I ain’t a cam boy,” retorted Mickey.

With a deep sigh, he emptied his mind of the discomfort of his position and the embarrassment of his actions, and just went for it, wetting his finger with his mouth, then shoving it in as far as he could get it on initial entry. It wasn’t very far, but he wiggled and shimmied it as he slid it in and out, until eventually it was in as far as it could go from the angle he was in. He could faintly hear Ian going to town on himself, and he once again longed to be the one doing it to him. Pressing his ass back onto Ian’s cock instead of his own measly finger. Getting Ian’s big hand around his own dick while he did it.

As it were, he had to use his left hand to get some action on his dick, and as soon as he got back into the swing of things on that score, he set about trying to hit his prostate with his right hand.

“Add another one,” rasped Ian.

“You’re gettin’ real mouthy, ain’t you,” Mickey complained, wetting his hand again before sliding in two fingers to the knuckles.

“Oh, sorry, am I supposed to just remain quiet during this phone sex?”

“Stop sassin' me while I try to hit the spot. Some of us don’t got long-ass E.T. fingers.”

Ian chortled. “Jesus, Mick. Can you not bring my favorite childhood movie into this? Plus, you don’t need to go that deep. Just flip your hand over and crook your fingers. You’ll find it.”

“You think you know my ass better than I do?”

“Probably.”

Mickey did as suggested, even though it was the weirdest combination of body angles. It didn’t do anything at first, then all of a sudden, “Oh.”

Both hands got fast and furious as he felt that familiar tingly throb building up inside. He let himself get lost in it for a few minutes, then came to just enough to realize that he wanted a visual of Ian to orgasm to. It’s what he'd been looking forward to all week.

All at once, he stopped, flipping onto his back and grabbing the phone. All he could see on screen now was the damn ceiling, which was annoying, but also hilarious, since it meant that Ian was probably holding the stupid phone a few inches from his stupid face.

“Why’d you stop?” asked Ian breathily.

“Cuz I wanna see you, numbnuts. As fascinating as your ceiling is, it'd be great if you got the main attraction back onscreen. Please and thank you.”

Ian tittered and angled the camera back down, pushing it past his sternum. “‘Kay, where’s yours?”

Mickey pointed his phone back toward his crotch, eyes extremely focused on Ian’s impossibly hard red dick and large pale hand, sighing when he touched himself again. He needed a finger or two back in his ass, though. He always came harder with something up his ass, and it reminded him more of Ian too.

But there was no way to film himself and still get a view of Ian, plus use both hands to get himself off. He had to choose one type of orgasm to have, and since he wasn’t entirely sure he could pop from anal only, he stuck with the jerking off.

Maybe Ian was right. He hadn’t thought this through enough. But he knew exactly what his daydreams would be scheming up until their next interlude.

“You gonna come all over yourself like I asked?” said Mickey.

“Just a sec,” Ian replied with a grunt.

Mickey’s hand synced up with Ian’s, flying up and down his length on the phone screen. “Wanna see it on your stomach and in your pubes.”

Ian’s moans and groans got louder and closer together, building Mickey’s excitement up to the edge.

And then of course his gay-ass boyfriend had to go and say some gay-ass shit like, “I love you!”

And then he was shooting jizz out the tip of his dick, letting it get everywhere.

And the effect was the same as a quality porno scene in that it made Mickey come too, eyes squinting shut as the sensations overwhelmed him. He wanted to throw the phone across the room, but he somehow managed to keep it resting against his chest and filming everything.

As soon as the last of it gushed out, he did let the phone drop next to him for a short time, and Ian must’ve been recovering too, because he didn’t hear any complaints. He reached for the toilet paper roll and wiped himself down as best he could, not bothering to put his shorts back on when he was done.

He flipped onto his stomach, picked up the phone and went back to the front camera, leaning it up against the wall as he burrowed a pillow under his chin.

“That was halfway decent, Gallagher.” He grinned in relaxed satisfaction.

Ian flipped his camera back too, lying on his side, and propping the phone up against what was probably the empty pillow next to him that Mickey should be on.

“You’ll get the real thing soon enough,” Ian replied with a sleepy smile.

“Fuckin’ hope so…” he trailed off in thought. “Sorry I can’t be there. It is my fault.”

“Nah, just forget about all that, okay? All we can do now is get through the time that’s left. But if you think I’m not gonna ride your ass the non-sexy way when you get out, you’re dead wrong. Not gonna let this shit happen again.”

“You want me workin’ some minimum wage bullshit legit job?”

“Yep. We know how to be poor, Mick. Tired of getting the shitty end of all the risk.”

“Your pillow talk could use some work, Red.”

“I know. Thanks for showing me your asshole earlier.”

Mickey laughed. “No sweat. Well, probly some sweat.”

Ian snorted and shook his head. “Shut up. I’m glad we get to do this. It’s nice being with you at bedtime.”

“Be nicer if it included your dick in my ass, but I guess it’s alright.”

“Want me to tell you about the boring shit now?”

“Might as well.”

“As long as you don’t fall asleep before you tell me you love me, bitch.”

Mickey frowned. “Normal people don’t shout that shit as they’re coming, you freak.”

“I don’t care when you say it, just fit it in.”

It wasn’t really something they could comfortably say to one another on their regular taped prison calls and visits. It was better for Mickey's orientation not to be common knowledge to the wrong people around the joint.

“I love you, you silly bastard, now tell me about your dumbass day.”

Ian smiled brightly. “Franny did the cutest shit…”

Mickey half-listened, content to be in the distant presence of Ian’s face, voice, and manner; imagining a day soon to come when they would be reunited for good in the great wide open.

#ian x mickey #fanfic #gallavich #fanfiction #asks #answers

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keelywolfe · 3 years

Text

FIC: Just Swimmingly ch.1 (BAON)

Summary: Stretch and Edge are happily living their best lives together, despite the occasional setbacks. This might be another one.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationships, Hurt/Comfort, Additional Tags To Come

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

"that's it, babe, i'm finished. stick a fork in me, i'm done."

Edge looked over to where his husband was flopped back in the grass, an arm slung over his eye sockets. His sweatshirt had been shed some time ago, followed by his tank top and now he was stripped down to his lovely, if somewhat sweaty, rib cage. He couldn’t blame Stretch for his exhaustion, they’d been working hard since early this morning and even he was starting to feel weariness setting in.

"Not quite finished, but close," Edge allowed. "It's looking very good."

That was enough to Stretch to rise all the way onto his elbows in outrage. "excuse me, it is looking fantastic. amazing. brilliant. gimmie a second to find a thesaurus and i'll toss a few more adjectives your way."

Edge had to admit that he was right. Their new pond was shaping up into a fine addition for their backyard. Surrounded by large stones to support the two small waterfalls, the narrow path that led to it from the coop was surrounded by plants that were both visually appealing and of types that any domesticated poultry would find an appetizing snack. What couldn't be seen was the dedicated filter and drain that would keep the water clean and the automatic vacuum that would run at night to keep bottom muck free for their little aquatic acquisition.

He'd spent days researching the best way to build it, another few designing it and ordering the necessary supplies. If they were going to have a duck pond in their increasingly hectic backyard, then they were going to have the best one that he could possibly manage, but it wasn’t only the aesthetic that made all the effort worth it. There was also the way Stretch scrambled up and shifted his sprawl across Edge’s back, hugging him tightly. “hey, babe, thanks for doing this.”

“You’re welcome,” Edge leaned back into his arms, “but I honestly can’t fathom why you would ever think I wouldn’t.”

“i don’t think you wouldn’t,” Stretch said. The words were muffled, his mouth pressed close to Edge’s temple. “but you made it a priority over your kitchen when you really didn’t have to."

The kitchen was still waiting on its remodel and that was certainly his next project, but the issues there were entirely cosmetic; the kitchen was still useable, if less than aesthetically pleasing. A small duckling would not remain small for very long and needed a pond as soon as possible. The little basin Cheese had been using was not an adequate substitute.

“Of course, I did,” Edge reached back to gently touched Stretch’s cheekbone, traced the arch with his thumb, glove whispering against bone. “What kind of person would I be if I didn’t put my grand duckling first?” He highly doubted he would have said the same when they first came to the surface. In fact, he would have assumed anyone who even suggested such a thing to him was a raving lunatic. These days, adjusting his life for not only Stretch but also chickens, neighborhood children, and experiments that would be right at home in any mad scientist’s laboratory was not only automatic, it was also a pleasure.

Stretch snorted, nipping teasingly as those fingers wandered down to his jaw. "yeah, okay, grandpa. welp, we got the water and we've got the plants in it. we put in those tablets you got to regulate the ph and we've got the little waterfalls going. can we bring cheese to it now?"

Edge drew away, crawling across the grass to pick up his clipboard. He made a show of checking the list until Stretch was practically rolling on the ground in moaning impatience.

"I believe we can introduce our newest family member to their own personal playground," Edge allowed. He nearly fell back on the ground when Stretch scrambled over right into his lap, flinging his skinny arms around him.

"yes!” Stretch cheered, “time for swimmies!" Too loudly and right into Edge’s audial canal. Before he could plot any sort of revenge, ticklish, pleasurable, or otherwise, Stretch was already squirming free and bouncing to his feet. He might have used up all his energy allotted for labor, but it seemed he kept a reserve stored for excitement.

'Swimmies?" Edge mouthed, but he only shook his head and climbed to his feet to begin picking up the tools scattered about, setting them back into his toolbox. Despite the day's work, his leg was only just starting to ache. He stretched it out with a grimace but didn't yet reach for his cane. After so much bending and moving today, he'd likely need it tonight and possibly some time with an ice pack as well. It was definitely getting better, slowly but surely. Today was simply pushing him to his limits.

"cleanup can come later, babe, you gotta watch!" Stretch called.

Obediently, Edge sat in one of the deck chairs Stretch had pulled over that morning for breaktime. "Watching."

With a flourish worthy of a game show host, Stretch opened the coop door and three chickens plus a duckling came scurrying eagerly out. Before they could get far, Stretch scooped up Cheese, holding the little bundle of yellow fluff and cooing to them. Already they were visible larger, soon they would begin to shed their baby down and real feathers would begin growing in.

The tiny quacks rose in volume as Stretch carried Cheese towards the pond and before he even made it to the walkway, the little duckling was squirming loose. Stretch set them down hastily before they could fall and Cheese made a beeline straight for the pond, splashing in, their little webbed feet paddling furiously as they quacked enthusiastically.

Nugget was less than pleased with her adopted child's watery delight. She stood on the artificial shoreline, flapping her wings and loudly expressing her displeasure. Cheese ignored her loud scolding and cackles, swimming happily, and finally Nugget began to sulkily scratch around the fresh landscaping in search of bugs, occasionally giving her child a grouchy glare. Noodle and Dumpling were less concerned with the latest member of their flock and were already inspecting their new territory.

"guess it works," Stretch laughed. He was nearly clapping his hands in glee as he watched Cheese contentedly swim circles around their new watering hole.

“It better, after all that effort.” Edge set both hands at the small of his back and stretched, groaning as his joints popped. “Let them swim for a while and then we can go get cleaned up so I can start on dinner.”

Stretch scrambled for his phone, wincing as he checked the time. "shit, i didn't tell you, i'm meeting andy in town tonight. sorry, babe, it slipped my mind."

"Not a problem.” His dinner plans could be easily adjusted to account for leftovers. More curious, and suspicious, was those two going out for the evening, particularly without himself and Antwan invited along. “What are the two of you up to?"

“checking out a few bands,” Stretch said promptly. He scooped his sweatshirt off the ground, his voice briefly muffled as he pulled it over his head. “see, catty gives andy a list of local bands who profess to be monster supporters to check out. word gets arounds that being supportive of monsters can get you gigs at our events and the embassy pays well.” That was both explanation enough and a guilty relief. Neither he nor Antwan were fans of the sort of music that Catty was likely seeking. “andy is checking their sound but also trying to poke around and see if it’s all just lip service since the only asshole we want on the payroll is your bro.” He leered, running his tongue lightly over his teeth. “you’ll have to wait for my lip service until i get home.”

“an impressive feat, considering your lack of lips,” Edge said dryly. He waited for Stretch to secure their flock back in the coop, despite Cheese’s heartbreaking protests for a longer swim time. Then he took a step towards the house and while he was sure his expression didn’t change in the slightest, he accepted the cane when Stretch pointedly handed it to him. “Thank you.”

“uh huh, try saying that a little less like ‘fuck off’ and i’ll buy it,” Stretch said cheerfully. “gonna head upstairs to change. hey, wait.” Just inside the door, Stretch pushed Edge up against the wall, both arms braced on either side of him as he leaned in. The sharp thrill that rumbled through Edge’s soul was sadly disappointed when all Stretch did was say firmly. “promise me you won’t spend the whole time i’m gone working. do some of your action figures or make some muffins. do something else, okay?”

“I promise.” Still caught in the loose cage of Stretch’s arms, Edge stripped off his dirty gloves and dropped them to the floor, then reached up to cup his face lightly, cautiously, between his bare hands as he leaned up to kiss him with gentle affection.

“liar,” Stretch murmured against his mouth. He stole another gentle kiss, another slightly less gentle one, then drew back, “you’ll tell yourself just one more thing and then get caught up in something important so when i get home, you’ll be sitting on the sofa and your leg is gonna hurt like a bitch because you didn’t move for five hours.”

“That does sound like me,” Edge agreed, stealing a last kiss before letting Stretch escape upstairs.

What he did not say was that the house tended to be too quiet without Stretch in it. Even when he was only sleeping next to Edge, his presence carried a certain weight that seemed to fill the room. Work was more immersive than any of his hobbies and he would be less likely to be constantly about to speak to Stretch only to remember that he wasn’t there.

Ridiculous, really, that he could miss Stretch before he was even gone, and he wasn’t about to say a word. He wouldn’t try to hold Stretch back for the world, certainly not from his friendship with Jeff.

He was setting up his laptop on the coffee table when Stretch came back downstairs, dressed entirely from Edge’s side of the closet, the warm pulse in his soul was far less from affection and more foreshadowing of the night he hoped would come when Stretch returned. Edge might not have chosen to wear a striped shirt with that jacket, but it was undeniably attractive on Stretch’s tall, slim form, particularly coupled with jeans that clung to his femurs, all the way down to the borrowed boots on his feet.

Stretch was never oblivious to his gaze and playfully struck a pose that would have given Mettaton a fit of jealousy.

“like the coming attraction?” Stretch said teasingly. He gave a little shimmy and Edge’s mouth went dry.

“Always.” He let it come out in a rough growl, watched the brief flicker of orange color Stretch’s eye lights.

His tongue flicked out over his teeth, his own voice lowering to that whiskey-sweet rasp that Edge loved so much. “don’t lose your raincheck, you’ll get to call it in when i get home.”

He leaned down for another kiss, one that Edge gladly granted. But before he could head for the front door, Edge caught his hand, drawing it to his mouth to press a light kiss right above Stretch’s wedding band. Later, he couldn’t say why he added, “Love? Be careful.”

It wasn’t his normal version of a sendoff, obvious in the way Stretch startled, blinking down at him. “aren’t i always, mama bear?”

“Absolutely not.”

“okay, well, i’d argue that. but my reputation kinda precedes me and you’re also something of an expert witness.” He twisted his hand in Edge’s loose grip, fingertips brushing against his jaw. “i will be tonight. deal?”

“Deal.”

With a last kiss, Stretch was out the door, heading off for a night of music and fun, and Edge was alone.

He headed for the kitchen first, absently reminding himself to get working on the schematics for this remodel next. The meal he’d planned for tonight suddenly lacked appeal and instead, he decided to make it tomorrow when Stretch would be home. A sandwich would do for tonight. Before he left with his plate, he rummaged through the freezer for an ice pack to keep the dull ache in his leg from rising to a throb.

By the time he was settled on the sofa, the silence in the house was already nagging at him, the memory of his husband dressed in his clothes lingering at the back of his mind, and with it, some nebulous agitation, something that he couldn’t properly express.

Better to cut it off now before he was truly distracted. Edge opened his laptop and soon was absorbed in his work. To the point he didn’t really register the time until his phone chimed and when he picked it up to check the message, the first three words turned all the lingering, warm anticipation in his soul to ice.

We have him.

~~*~~

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #by any other name

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self-proclaimed-chaotic-good · 4 years

Text

True Winchester Fashion | Adam Milligan x Reader (Oneshot?)

Prompt: Meet Cute

Fandom: Supernatural

Warnings: Mentions of gore, minor swearing, only brief fluff because Winchesters can’t catch a break

Words: 1643

A/N: This was supposed to be fluffy, why am I like this? I haven’t caught up with SPN, all I know from S15 is Adam’s brief appearance. This is another idea I had way before S15, revised to fit his current situation, of how they would bring back Adam again in my vain hope of him recurring more often.

The bar wasn’t exactly your thing, but your friends wanted to celebrate the end of the grueling final exams and teased you for being boring. All you wanted to do was borrow your neighbor’s netflix account and relax with a tub of ice cream. They weren’t having it and were determined to get you laid. You were determined to make sure they don’t get in trouble and drive them home.

Three shots in and your little group had already attracted unwanted attention. Three guys at the billiards table kept glancing at your group, whispering among each other while smirking and laughing. You only hoped that they’d keep their distance, but that may be wishful thinking.

“Hey, we’re going to the bathroom,” one of your friends said, “Can you watch our drinks?”

“Of course,” you said.

They swung an arm around each other’s neck and made their way towards the heavily graffitied restrooms, dodging other patrons on their way in. You sighed, wondering how many bottles they were going to drink before they called it a night. It was a pain to clean up their vomit from your backseat last time. A price to pay for being the designated driver.

From the corner of your eye, you could see those three guys putting down their pool cue sticks and making their way towards the bar area. You let out a shaky breath, glancing back at the bathroom doors for your friends.

“Hey, is this seat taken?” You turned and saw a man with a pair of familiar hazel eyes standing next to you. He smiled. “I’m Adam, by the way.”

“I know. We had a few classes together,” you said, briefly looking away to hide how flustered you were at his sudden appearance. “You borrowed my notes for Micro lab once.”

“Yeah, (Y/n), right?” You nodded. “Let me return the favor and make sure that the three little piggies over there don’t bother you.”

You sighed in relief. “Thank you.”

Adam hopped onto the stool next to you and ordered a beer. “So, got any plans for the break?”

“Not really. Mostly work. You?”

He sighed. “I was hoping to visit family, but they haven’t answered any of my calls. Must be a busy year for them with the whole… family business thing.”

“Family business? What does your family do?”

“Uh,” he paused, taking a swig of his beer.

He could still say they were hunters, but he didn’t want to go off on a tangent of what they hunt. Once, he had to deal with someone’s rant about the ethics of hunting animals and while he knew you, he didn't know you enough to know whether you’d do that. He looked down at the bottle and found an answer.

“Brewing. My family owns a brewing company. Winchester and Milligan, or W and M. It’s small, but it’s something.” He shook his head and pointed his bottle at you. “What about you?”

“I work at the library,” you said with a shrug, “Boring, I know.”

Adam shook his head. “No, not boring at all. Is it the public library?”

“Museum library, actually.”

“Even cooler!” You looked down bashfully, shaking your head at him. “It’s true!”

You and Adam chatted for almost half an hour when you realized that your friends were taking too long. You frowned, checking your phone for any messages and found none. Adam could sense your distress, but you excused yourself to go and check on them in the bathroom.

Passing two couples in a heavy makeout session, you squeezed your way to the bathroom, calling out the names of your friends. They weren’t at the sinks, so you made your way towards the stalls, looking out for their shoes. Halfway down, you found a sight that made your stomach churn. A scream was stuck in your throat as you shakily opened the stall door.

There was a high pitched noise, then it went dark.

Everyone near the bathrooms heard the scream, but no one dared to move. Adam cursed under his breath rushing over and bursted through the door. He found you collapsed on the sticky floor next to a pool of blood. He checked you for a pulse, which was faint, and if you had any injuries. Seeing that you had only fainted, he gently propped you up against the wall and stood to investigate the blood. It was one of your friends slumped over the toilet seat, neck viciously ripped open, lifeless eyes left wide open.

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered. His brothers better answer their damn phones this time.

In true Winchester fashion, when one case is finally closed, another one opens up. They had done a full day of well earned rest when their little brother called them, sending several text messages when they didn’t answer. It wasn’t how they wanted to reunite with him, but that was just how it was going to be.

They rolled up to the bar, red and blue lighting up the parking lot. An ambulance was parked on the side with what looked to be a college student wrapped in a blanket sitting at the back being examined by medics.

Sam and Dean flashed their badges and were allowed to pass the police tape. Tucking their badges away, they spotted Adam next to the ambulance talking to one of the medics. They nodded at him, making their way towards the sheriff to get the formalities out of the way.

“According to those two kids there,” the sheriff said, gesturing to Adam and the college student before leading Sam and Dean into the bar, “Their friends had gone to the bathroom and didn’t come out for almost half an hour. One went to check on them and fainted and I don’t blame them. You might want to brace yourselves for this one, agents.”

“Trust me, in our line of work, nothing surprises us,” Dean said with a smirk.

Adam watched his brothers go before turning back to you. The medics had cleared you, saying that you were still in shock but you were okay to leave. He led you away from the ambulance, replacing the blanket with his jacket.

“Don’t worry, (Y/n), they’ve got this covered,” he assured you.

You remained silent, still trying to come to terms with what had happened to your friend and wondering what kind of monster would have done this. There was also the fact that your other friend was missing from the scene and could not be contacted. It all happened so fast, how could this have happened in less than an hour with no one noticing?

You didn’t realize how long you were just standing there, spacing out, until Adam started speaking again. “I’m going to talk to the feds over there, okay? You’ll be okay, right?”

You nodded. He gave you a once over filled with concern, fixing his jacket over your shoulders before walking towards the towering federal agents that came to investigate. You blinked, a strange thought that they would pass as brothers. The agents looked over at you and gave you a polite smile and a nod of acknowledgement, then turned their attention back to Adam.

“They’re cute. Nice touch with the jacket,” Dean teased, “Look at our little bro carrying down the family legacy of being a casanova.”

Sam huffed out a laugh. “We’ll talk about his love life later,” he said, “What do you guys think?”

“Vampire?” Adam guessed, “Is messy toilet murder their M.O.?”

Sam shook his head. “Well, they usually try to be more discreet. It’s also possible that they’ve taken the friend back to their den. Did you notice anyone going in and out of the bathroom?”

“No, I-”

“He was probably busy chatting up his cute friend over there,” Dean said. Adam glared at him, earning a playful smirk in return and a slap on the shoulder. “I’ll go ask around for any more witnesses.”

“Hey,” Sam said, snapping Adam’s attention away from their older brother, “Let’s get this over with and we’ll catch up later, okay?”

Adam nodded, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, and, uh… (Y/n) is still in shock, so be careful with them.”

Sam suppressed a chuckle. “Dude, you realize how long we’ve been doing this gig? I know. We’ll see you later.”

You were holding Adam’s jacket tighter around you, the image of your friend in the bathroom engraved into your brain. They were just slumped over like a life size doll, the smell of iron and piss in the air, the loud rock music mixed with moans from the couples making out, it was all like a scene in a movie that you couldn’t believe you were in. There was no scream or ruckus or anything and suddenly they’re gone just like that.

One of the federal agents walked up to you, going through the usual greetings and then the questionings. You told him what you told the sheriff, doubting that it was going to be much help. Then, he started to ask questions that caught you off guard. If there were any disappearances in the last month, anyone you knew that started acting differently and particularly avoiding going outside. You answered with the best of your abilities before you were dismissed.

A coworker had heard what happened and came to pick you up, reassuring you that your car could be picked up the next morning. Before you climbed into her car, you looked around for Adam who seemed to have left already. Frowning, you put on his jacket properly before ducking in.

A shadow stood at the back of the bar, watching the car leave. The shadow remained where they were, watching the two federal agents until they left in their ‘67 Chevy Impala. They needed to report to the Alpha.

#WritersMonth2020 #adam milligan x reader #adam milligan #adam winchester #supernatural imagine #supernatural #spn imagines #spn #oneshot maybe #one day i will write reader and a character being happily together #it is still not that day yet

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sif-the-tsunami · 4 years

Text

Ropes and Roses part three

Summary: Elizabeth Rosehill is a talented dance instructor and a force of nature that beguiles her famous student. Events in her life, however, have led her to search for more creative ways for her to keep herself afloat. What will she do to keep her dreams secure and what will it mean for her blossoming relationship.

Warning: this passage contains some drunken shenanigans, heavy petting, making out, self deprecating humor, stripping down to ones underwear, sexual frustration, some insecurities, and angst. Oh and the beginning of Elizabeth showing her dominant side. If I missed anything please let me know

Word count: 2500

A/N: If you read it and like it, it would mean a lot to me if you could say something nice!

“And what will the lady be having?” The handsome bartender asked from behind the wooden top.

“Gentleman Jack, two fingers, neat. Please and thank you.” Elizabeth had her face all smooshed up in her hands, cradling her own head, resigning to the feeling of utter defeat. Gregory Chapman had called her and told her that the movie had lost its funding. The promises he made her were now as empty as the glass in front of her. As was her bank account. At least the bartender quickly remedied the empty glass problem. Henry saw her sitting there, her perfect posture was replaced by the pose of someone who wanted to be as small as possible.

“Oh shit, you are taking the news way harder than I thought you would. I also had no idea you liked whiskey.” He saw that her eyes were puffy, she had rubbed the winged eyeliner tip off on one of her eyes. He took the hand closest to him and gave her a gentle squeeze. The best part of having had their lessons was they had grown comfortable with touching each other. He appreciated the intimacy they shared, even if he though it had been platonic on her part. “Cancellations happen pretty often, don’t beat yourself up too much.”

“You were getting so good too.” Her voice came out as a whine, she took a sip of her liquor.

“I was mediocre at best, I just happen to look good while you dance around me.” The gold tinged light above them made her eyes and the drink the same color. Everything about her right then seemed angelic to him, even with her sad expression she glowed. “My only regret is that I won’t get to see you as much. I’ve enjoyed our time together.”

“That is very kind, Henry.” Elizabeth laced her fingers with his. “It was a pleasure to teach you.”

I love how she says my name, he thought. “So, what happens next for you?”

“I have to work harder to try to keep my dance studio open.”

“What do you mean? You have some great teachers, you have full classes.”

“Greg had told me that once he was given the funding he planned on investing in the dance studio with some of his earnings. I’m not sad about the movie being canceled, I’m just sad that this is just one more thing to have gone wrong this year...” she trailed off.

“Want to talk about it?”

“If I start, I will not shut up, I’m sure you don’t want to listen to me bitch and moan for an hour. Don’t you have more important things to be doing?”

“I could listen to you complain all night. Besides, nothing is more important than us getting drunk and possibly finding people to snog with tonight,” he said with the intention of making her laugh, but with a quick look around the pub, it looked like the their options would be limited. “I bet you could charm the pants off that lad at the end there.”

The lad was an older gentleman wearing a newsboy hat and a sweater with patches on the elbow.

“Oh Mr Cavill,” she said in a dreamy, playful voice, “he’s just my type. Do you think he’ll like me?”

“I don’t know Ms Rosehill, you might have to show him a little clevage.”

She pretended to pull the top of her dress down a little, big shit eating grin on her face, “How’s that? Better? Oh please, sir, notice me. Please come tap my ass like a keg!”

The remark caused Henry to choke on his drink. After a deep gasp of air he looked at her incredulously “never mind, you’ll kill the man. Give him a heart attack talking like that.”

The two talked, Elizabeth told him about how earlier that year she had gone through a bitter divorce, her ex had left her with more debt than she would be able to handle by herself and then her mother had passed away. She felt like she was drowning and the first life raft that had been thrown her way was being pulled from her.

“But you know what? I am a pretty damn good swimmer, and my momma didn’t raise no bitch.” She stated. She sat back sagaciously for a moment, “I think that might be the whiskey talking.”

Henry chuckled to himself. They were both a few drinks deep into their conversation and she was feeling it. He paid their tab and took her with him, “Come on, you lightweight, let’s go put some food in you so you don’t black out on me.”

Trying to get the teacher to do anything while she had been drinking was like trying to get a cat to cooperate. Every time they walked for more than a few minutes, she would wonder off some where distracted by anything that caught her attention. He stood there the fourth time when she stopped to look at display of macrons in a window.

“Are you like this every time you drink?”

“No, only when I forget to eat during the day before hand, I’m so hungry, I would perform unspeakable acts if I could get my hands on some fried pickles right now. Are those even a thing here?”

“Fried… pickles?” He responded moderately concerned for her sanity. “Why?”

“Do you want the drunk answer or the athlete answer?”

“Both. Oh my god woman, would you get off of that. You are like the worst version of the worst mission in video games. No, no, no, you wrap your arm around mine right now, I will get you food, I promise. Stay with me, Lizzie, tell me about the pickles.”

“Drunk answer is that they taste good, you know what takes a sandwich from eh to great. Pickles.” She tucked her arm right into his, with his other hand gently resting on top of her arm ready to guide her along. “Athlete answer is that they help re-hydrate you, after work outs, after drinking. Drinking pickle juice always cures my hangovers. Although chips work too, especially with salt and vinegar.”

They found a place still open that was serving delicious smelling fried food. He was together enough to set her down on a curb. “Please stay here. I’ll be right back.”

She leaned against him as soon as he sat down and handed her their snack. It was beginning to get late and a chill in the autumn air was starting to creep in. “You called me Lizzie earlier, I haven’t been called that since I was a little girl.”

“I hate to break it to you, but you still are a little girl. Well, compared to me anyways.” He nudged her with his elbow a little to get a smile out of her. “I hope you don’t mind, I won’t call you that again if you hate it.”

“It is totally fine, I’ve gone by Liz, Lizzie, Lizbeth, Beth. Just please don’t call me Libby. My middle name is Louisa, my ex would call me Libby-Lou, knowing how much I hated that nickname. Made me feel like I should be living in Whoville, waiting for the Grinch to steal my Christmas dinner.”

“They can be the worst, ex’s. They always know where they can jab at you with a mean joke or poke at an insecurity. One of mine would make comments about what I was eating, especially if I was between jobs.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and felt her whole body shiver.

“I’m sorry, you never deserved that.” She said softly. He looked into her eyes, the eyeliner had somehow gotten more smudged, she looked as exhausted as she sounded.

“No, neither did you. I don’t know what all he did to you, but you deserve better too.” His voice came out low and husky. “Do you want to come back to my place, I live pretty close by and you look like you are about to freeze.”

“I don’t know, Mr Cavill, I seem to remember you mentioning something about finding someone to make out with tonight, will I find one there?”

With the straightest face he could possibly muster, “As long as you don’t eat all of my pickles.”

***

A twenty minute walk later, they were in Henry’s home. They were both greeted by a very excited Kal, who snuffled and snorted at his daddy’s new friend. A warm welcoming glow came from the living room where the lights had been left on for his dog. He offered her one of his hoodies to help her warm up and planted her on the couch so he could take his boy to do his business outside. He came back as quick as he, honestly expecting to find her asleep. Instead, she was looking at him with her whiskey colored eyes. He had wanted another drink, and brought them both another glass of the liquor. He sat down at the other end of the couch, trying to respect her space. “Are you comfortable, can I get you anything else?”

“No, I’m warming up well, thank you. You have a beautiful home, it’s nice and cozy.”

“Thank you, I like it here a lot, it is just enough for me. And Kal, for that matter.” His furry buddy was pressing as much of himself against the spot Elizabeth sat on the couch. She was delicately rubbing the area between his eyes and cooing at big beast, his fluffy tail wagging happily. “I think he likes you.”

“Oh good, I’m glad His Lordship approves of me.” She moved her hands to rub his chin. “You are just a big softy aren’t you? Good man, Kal.”

Henry watched them get acquainted, allowing himself to melt into the couch, legs spread apart. She turned her attention to the beautiful man before her. Maybe the booze was making her feel more bold than usual, but damn did she want him. Her mind was still swimming from their earlier adventure. Hopefully, it was an invite to climb between his powerful thighs. She shot back her glass and put the empty cup on his side table. He reached over to her and pulled her close. She positioned herself to face him and straddled his lap. His breath caught in his throat for a moment.

“If I’m being to presumptuous, I can stop. I will go sit on the other side again.” She said quietly.

“No, I want this. I want you.” He reached up, fingers were gently touching the back of her arms.

She leaned forward and pressed her forehead against his, “Before you... we… whatever it is here that we are doing, I need you to know that I don’t know what all I can give to you right now. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I think you are worth the risk,” he whispered to her and they connected.

Henry had wanted this from the first time he placed her hands on him. Every nudge, posture correction, hand offered to help him, whenever he felt her skin on his he felt the current between the two of them and it was electrifying. He felt himself grow hard as she invited him to explore her body. His hoodie was off was off of her body as soon as they started, and then shortly after came her black dress. They continued to make out as she unbuttoned his soft flannel shirt.

He fingers searched the back of her bra for it’s clasp. She broke off their kiss long enough to lean back and unhook it from the front. Henry could feel the pressure building in his jeans as he looked at her body. All she had left on were knee high black boots and a pair of silky purple panties. Elizabeth gave him a lopsided smile as she leaned back into their embrace. Her fingers danced and tickled down his chest running down to to the bottom hem of his shirt. Henry stopped himself before she removed the cotton undershirt, ever so gently. “Before I take this off, I want you to not be disappointed.”

“Disappointed?” she asked breathlessly.

“I don’t look like Geralt right now. I’m in my off season, and I don’t know what kind of expectations you have...” Elizabeth slowly ran her hands back up his chest.

“I like you, Henry: your beautiful, overthinking, intelligent mind; your sweet nature; your burning passions. You as a person.” peppering his neck and face with tender kisses, her hands tangling in his hair. “Everything else is just sprinkles on a cupcake.”

“Sprinkles on a cupcake?” he smiled. She nibbled on his ear and he moaned, hungry for more.

“Cupcakes don’t need sprinkles to be delicious, I have never refused a cupcake because it didn’t have sprinkles on it.” She ran her fingers back down to the bottom of his shirt. “So, Mr Cavill, do I have permission to take your shirt off?”

“Yes, Ms Rosehill, you do.” The woman on top of him pulled the garment off, never breaking eye contact. After it’s removal, she kept a firm grip on his arms, inching ever closer to his wrists. With her hands on them, Elizabeth pressed her weight against his wrists and pinned him as best she could to the back of the couch. She ground her pelvis against his as she started nibbling and kissing his neck, her torso against his. Appreciating the nuzzling and nibbles on his neck, he closed his eyes for a moment, waiting for her to continue.

All he felt was her soft breathing against his skin. A moment later her hands dropped from his wrists. Henry tried to move himself to see what what was going on when a soft snore came from his would be lover. He rubbed his face, not believing what had just happened.

“Liz… Lizzie… wake up, sweetheart.” He tried kissing her cheek to wake her. The only response she gave was tucking her arms to her chest and adjusting her head on his shoulder. He groaned, but knew what he had to do. Elizabeth was as limp as a rag doll, so he guided her arms through his flannel shirt, placed her down gently on the couch and prepared his guest room for her. Making sure his warmest duvet was on the bed, he left a bottle of water and some Tylenol on the bed side table for her. He carried her to the room and tucked her into bed, making sure a pillow was wedged behind her back to keep her on her side. Henry then went to his room, fell face first into bed and yelled directly into a pillow.

#fanfic #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill smut

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bigskydreaming · 4 years

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The thing about “Good Dad Bruce Wayne” and “Bat-Dad” is....that’s the dream. I love any and all depictions of Bruce Wayne that prioritize him DOING THE WORK to be a good father to his kids.

I never look for reasons to criticize Bruce or his parenting. My frequent bitching and moaning about him and how he’s written comes from one place and one place only:

IMO a lot of the time, instead of writing Bruce putting in the WORK to be the PARENT, people just write him being 70% of the problem and only 30% of the solution and call that ‘good enough.’ Because hey, at least he’s trying to be part of the solution and fix his mistakes and be better for his kids, and isn’t that the most anyone can ask for?

Well, no. Its not. Especially since with the exception of Damian, Bruce chose each and every one of his kids with full knowledge of what he was doing. He doesn’t GET to do the bare minimum, even when his kids require more effort than the norm, like the situations with Jason sometimes are beyond the ordinary. There’s no quota to parenting.

The thing about Bruce Wayne is he is pretty much the most competent individual in the DC universe. He has more resources available at his disposal than any other parent can dream of. He has excelled at every thing he’s ever put his mind to....

Except, often times....being a parent.

And parenting is not somehow inherently more impossible than saving the world every other week. Its just not. It literally is just: put your kids first.

And that is what Bruce is written as failing to do, time and time again. That is almost unilaterally where every single one of his conflicts with his children come from.

When he puts his own fear of rejection over Dick’s fear of abandonment, and refuses to reach out to Dick, beg him to come home, ask him to stay.

When he puts his own moral choices over Jason’s need to be understood, to have a father who can coexist with him and his choices when that very same father has at many times reconciled working with heroes with vastly different moral codes and even body counts of their own.

When he puts his own discomfort with emotional conversations and expressions of affection over Tim’s need for concrete gestures and reassurances that his parent needs and wants him in his life.

And so on.

These things are all actionable. They are all based on choices Bruce can make, and at many times just chooses not to. They all demand one thing and one thing only, the one thing that is expected of parents who take on the responsibility of a child that they and they alone are responsible for the wellbeing of:

Put. Them. First.

And falling short of that, when there’s every opportunity to do the work...is Bruce’s failure. It just is. Its not on his kids. He is the parent. Always and forever, with each and every one of them. That is what he signed up for. THEY did not. Kids don’t have the same power and choices about where they end up as the parents do when deciding that where they end up should be with them. And that can’t be disregarded. Bruce’s kids, as much as they love and appreciate him, are not ultimately the ones who arranged to be tied to Bruce for the rest of their lives, even if they all accepted that and wanted that in their own ways. He was the one with the actual power to make those choices, and to quote DC’s competition:

With great power comes great responsibility.

Bruce’s kids will always have less power than him purely in the context of their relationships with him, because the yearning for a parent’s approval exists on a wholly different level than anything a parent can need or get from their child - especially when they have multiple children but those multiple children each only have the one parent they’re all desperately hoping for the approval of. As well as when each of those multiple children arrive in Bruce’s life already burdened with issues born of abandonment and abuse and neglect that aren’t Bruce’s fault....but from the second Bruce stepped up and volunteered to be their parent, still very much became his responsibility all the same.

Bruce’s kids will always, always, always have more to lose, when there’s any conflict between them and their father.

And the thing that frustrates me so much about how Bruce is written in both canon AND fanfics....

Is how often the narratives cut corners and emphasize the blame and responsibility of his children and make them settle....for just ‘good enough’ from him. For ‘well at least he’s trying.’ For ‘he’s not perfect.’

He doesn’t need to be perfect.

But he needs to be the parent.

And personally, I will never be satisfied by narratives that feel like they make more attempt to coddle him and say its okay to just do the bare minimum, as long as he’s making an effort...than they do to make him step up and do the work, put his kids before his own issues.

He’s not the child. So stop treating him like one. Stop writing his kids being more mature than him. Stop saying his children are ‘equally at fault’ for him refusing to make them a priority and any issues of insecurity and abandonment and hurt they feel because of this. Stop expecting his oldest children to act as buffers for his younger children and do the parenting he refuses to do at times, and stop only treating them like his equal when it allows for them to victimize him in some way, with the story treating them like the aggressors and him the misunderstood recipient of their emotional harm and neglect.

Bruce Wayne has more social power and resources and skills and intelligence than just about any other human in the DC universe....his children included. Please can we just start holding him to the standards that kind of power should entail? Instead of looking to his children to always make up the difference for the times he refuses to be accountable, or a narrative refuses to hold him responsible for his own behavior and poor choices?

I WANT Good Dad Bruce Wayne.

I’m just tired of seeing ‘emotionally stunted surly teenager who makes his family’s lives far more difficult than they need to be and then awkwardly hugs them and grunts out an apology in the last paragraph to make up for it’....and being told: that’s Good Dad Bruce Wayne too.

No. Its not. I know what actual Good Dad Bruce looks like, and that ain’t it. Do better. Make him do better.

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lavenderwatercolor · 5 years

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Things Work Themselves Out, Arthur Fleck x Reader

Ask: can i request some arthur stalking reader content? an obsession gone way too far? sex at a halloween party but she doesnt know its him:?

Warning: Cursing, smut, dubcon, mentions of non-con

Pairing: Arthur Fleck x Reader

A/N: Well, this was something else. Kind of got hot writing it, hands were sweating knees weak arms are heavy by the end. Hope you enjoy, anon, and this was what you wanted!

***

You’d been having an amazing day. Fantastic, glorious, all those good things. You’d been promoted at your job, the bitch in accounting got fired, and to top it off, it was your birthday! Your friend had given you a pair matching pearl earrings, something you’d wanted with her for a long time. As if your day couldn’t get any better!

“Beautiful weather, isn’t it?” You smiled at the man standing behind you in line at the pharmacy. You had to pick up something for a friend and in your good mood decided to strike up a conversation with a stranger.

Arthur had to look behind him to make sure there wasn’t anyone else you could be talking to. “Uh, yeah.” He furrowed his brows and tried to hide the confusion on his face.

“I’m (Y/N).” You stuck out your hand, giving him another smile.

He took your hand in his, shaking it politely. It would be a lie to say he wasn’t pleasantly surprised by how soft your skin was, taking a moment to feel the back of your hand with his thumb. “Arthur.”

“Next.” The woman at the counter called you up.

“How’s your day going, Arthur?” You asked, taking a few steps to the counter but keeping your eyes on him. You slid a piece of paper over the counter and the woman left to the backroom after reading it.

He shrugged, moving forward in line with you. “Fine.”

“Just fine?” You scoffed, leaning against the counter. “I know something that will make it better.” Before he could ask you reached into your purse, pulling out a sucker. Your boss had given you a handful, she had bought her daughter the wrong flavor. Mango pineapple, instead of peach.

Arthur couldn’t help but smile when he saw the candy in your hand. He took it and examined the wrapper, running his finger over the plastic. “Thank you?” He looked up at you, unsure and wary of your kindness. Was it so truly innocent? No joke? You weren’t going to mug him when he left and laugh in his face?

No. He could tell. You were perfect. He needed to find out more about you before you left. “You don’t like candy?”

“No, I love it!” You laughed and unwrapped a sucker, running your tongue around it before sticking it between your lips. “I just have so many, my boss gave me them today after my promotion.”

“Promotion?” He raised an eyebrow and smiled, looking down at your lips. He found it hard to concentrate then, focusing more on your pretty lips around the red candy.

“Yeah!” You nodded eagerly. “You know that jewelry store uptown?”

He nodded with you, forcing himself to look back into your eyes.

“Well, that’s where I work. I used to design advertisements, you know, the stuff you see in the newspaper. Well, now I get to actually design jewelry! Isn’t that great?”

The look in your eyes made his knees weak. You were just so happy, innocent, so full of glee and joy, he wished you could share some of it with him.

“That’s amazing.” He breathed, shaking his head in disbelief as he fought with his mind. How could you be real? He had no idea what he was getting himself into, but he knew that if he didn’t cool down he’d spiral into an obsession.

“Here you go, ma’am.” The woman came back to the desk and handed you a white paper bag.

“Thanks, sweetie!” You smiled and took the bag, handing her a folded twenty. “I’ll see you around, alright Arthur?” You smiled at him again, looking so irresistibly adorable.

He was one step ahead of you.

Following you home wasn’t the best idea, but he just couldn’t help himself. He only stopped when you pulled your keys from your purse and unlocked your front door.

What the fuck was he doing?

The weekend was mostly the same. Following you to work, watching from afar, following you home, repeat. One day on your way home a gust of wind ripped your scarf from your neck, carrying it through the air and far away. You didn’t care enough to run after it so you let it go and went on your way.

Arthur cared though, and he chased it down.

It still smelt like you.

He pressed the soft fabric against his face, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. His free hand stroked himself, gritting his teeth as he imagined all the things you could do with your mouth besides hold a sucker.

It wasn’t long before he came, shuddering and sinking even further into the couch, your scarf pressed firmly against his nose.

Your scarf wasn’t enough, he needed more. He needed the real thing.

It took him a while but eventually, he found out you’d be going to a costume party in a large house in the nicer part of Gotham, a rich couple celebrating Halloween. He could sneak in, right? It was a costume party, he could cover his face. Maybe…

The day came. He was ready, he’d perfected his look, there was no way you’d recognize him.

He ran a hand through his slicked-back hair, trying to fit in with the small crowd filing into the house. A man at the door was checking a list, reading names and checking them off when they came through.

“What’s your name, sir?” The man asked him, barely looking up from his paper.

In the background someone smashed a bottle, the sound of the glass shattering almost deafening. Someone started screaming, and that was his window. Arthur slipped in the door and looked around, momentarily stunned.

It was a gorgeous house, the ceiling miles away, a spiral staircase in the main room, expensive paintings on the walls and painfully decorated chandeliers.

He looked around, taking in everyone's costumes. There was a large man dressed as Alf, another dressed as Jason, a few Barbies and not enough Kens.

Then he spotted you.

You wore a Wonder Woman costume, and god, he felt his knees grow weak when he saw how much skin was showing.

He checked his makeup in a mirror in the main hallway, making sure it was still perfect. He had spent longer than usual, every line carefully drawn on, his hair slicked back in a way so exact it would put a model’s routine to shame.

After a few drinks, you made your way to the upstairs bathroom, leaving your group of friends. This was his moment. Arthur set his martini down on the snack table he’d been prowling around and followed you, each step he took sending him further into his spiraling obsession.

The red carpet stretched on forever, the staircase never-ending, but finally, it did. He swallowed back any doubts and waited for you to go into the bathroom.

“What the fuck am I doing?” He whispered to himself, for a moment regretting even coming. What was he planning? What the fuck was he going to do?

If he wanted you, he’d need to act fast.

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, allowing himself to not think anymore.

He opened his eyes and set his jaw, opening the bathroom door. He turned off the light before you could look up from washing your hands, darkness enveloping you.

“David?” You laughed lightly, reaching for the faucet knobs. The sound of running water stopped, the only sound now being your breathing. You thought you’d seen the flash of his red Superman costume, what was he doing? The sound of the lock clicking sent chills down your spine.

Arthur stepped forward and found you, grabbing your face with his hands.

“Baby, your hands are cold.” You breathed, placing your wet hands on top of his. You hadn’t been able to dry them yet, the room too dark to see the towel.

He closed his eyes and allowed himself to think you knew it was him, that you were calling him baby. He leaned forward and kissed you, holding back a moan when he finally got to taste you.

So that’s what you felt like.

Your lips were so soft against his, all sense of doubt was gone now. You thought he was your baby and he was going to take full advantage of it.

He reached behind you and undid your dress, earning a gasp.

You parted from his lips and panted, trying so desperately to see in the dark room. “In here? Now?”

As nervous as you were, you kind of liked it. It was exciting, the thought of having sex in someone else's house with so many people inside it. The risk of being caught, it made you wet.

Arthur slid your costume down your body, letting his hands slide up your now bare skin, feeling every curve of your body. You weren’t wearing a bra, you couldn’t with the costume. He sighed when he realized, running his hands over your chest.

“God, David.” You closed your eyes, backing into the sink.

He hated that name. He loved your voice and the way you sounded in need but fuck, he hated hearing you say another man's name.

His hand slipped between your thighs, running over the fabric of your panties, feeling the warmth between your legs-

“David,”

Arthur broke. He grabbed you by the back of your neck and forced you to your knees, using his free hand to unbutton his red suit pants, taking his cock out in one quick motion. Turning you around so you were on your hands and knees he fell to his own, barely managing to get your panties off.

“Fuck, oh my god!” Your heart was going a thousand miles an hour. David was never like this with you, he was so vanilla, but this-

Arthur pushed himself inside you, biting his tongue to keep himself quiet. That was going to be hard. You were so fucking tight around him, so hot and wet, so fucking perfect. He closed his eyes and blew out a shaky sigh, gripping your hips so tight it burned his fingers.

“Yes, oh fuck me, please I need you to fuck me,” You whimpered, leaning down so your face was pressed against the cold tile floor. “I don’t care if anyone hears us.”

‘If she keeps talking like that,’ Arthur thought, reaching around your body to wrap his hands around your throat, ‘I won’t last a minute.’

You pushed your hips back against him as he started out slow, both hands wrapped tightly around your neck, mentally begging him to fuck you till you screamed. You lost yourself when he snapped his hips forward, your knees sliding against the floor backward until you laid completely flat on the floor.

Arthur moved with you, laying on top of your body. That’s when you should have known it wasn’t David, but you were so far lost in the moment you didn’t realize this man was wearing a suit and not a superman costume.

He fucked you into the floor, pounding so hard into you it forced the breath out of your lungs. His breath was quick and ragged, quiet little groans slipping out every now and then. Thank god you didn’t struggle, he couldn’t do that to you, at least, he hoped he wouldn’t. But feeling how perfect you were made him doubt he would have the power to stop himself.

“Oh, yes, yes!” You moaned against the tile, now hot from your body heat. Your cheekbone throbbed and you’d probably have a bruise the next day, but you didn’t give a fuck. You just wanted to be fucked.

Your orgasm came quick, racking through your body in shudders, your mouth hanging open in awe, your eyes rolled back so far in your head you saw red, it was the best sex you’d ever had and it was only about five minutes.

Arthur bit down into your shoulder, forcing himself fully into you when he came. His cock twitched as he burst inside you and he was unable to keep quiet. He covered your ears with the palms of his hands, squeezing so tight it hurt, and he groaned.

“(Y/N),” He breathed, his hips jerking a few times as he emptied himself inside you. He let out one last shaky breath before sliding off of you, taking a few seconds to catch his breath.

“That was the best fuck I’ve ever had, baby.” You whispered, rolling onto your back. Your pussy burned blissfully, his cum slowly leaking out of you and onto the floor. You rode out your bliss with closed eyes, barely noticing him stand up and walk out the door. But not before he planted one last kiss on your lips.

Arthur shut the door behind him and gasped, realizing what he had just done. He felt disgusted, awful, horrible, he had to get away. He rushed down the stairs and just when he was about to dart out the door he saw him, David.

It had to be David, right? He was wearing a Superman costume, you were wearing Wonderwoman, it had to be him. He locked eyes with him for a split second and then he fucking laughed. He couldn’t help it. He’d just fucked his girlfriend in the bathroom and she’d said it was the best she’d ever had, and it wasn’t even him.

#arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck #joker 2019 #joker #joker x reader smut #arthur fleck x reader smut #myfanfic

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pokefarm-q · 3 years

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firewolf1117 refuckingceipts (it's all been removed now but people archived it)

this bitch:

When you say “All Cops are”, here’s what you’re really saying:

All Blacks are Criminals All Mexicans are Illegal All Americans are stupid, fat, and lazy All Rape Victims are liars All Suicide Posters are Attention Seekers All Muslims are Terrorists All LGBT deserve to die

Are you outraged yet? GOOD.It means I touched a nerve.

You would never, ever, EVER say those things about those groups of people because you KNOW that it’s not true, even in the slightest. There are so very very FEW Cops who are actually corrupt and using their power and position inappropriately.

So what gives you the right to say the same about cops? COPS! Who are practically SOLDIERS! EVERY DAY their family lives with the fear that they won’t return. EVERY DAY they put their lives in danger to PROTECT you! They, as a whole, deserve your RESPECT!!! MOST ALL “Brutality” cases are from the CRIMINAL fighting, disrespecting, grabbing a weapon, etc. If you’d just COOPERATE AND BE RESPECTFUL you’d be treated FAIRLY!! Cops don’t have the time to sort things out. Their snap second decisions PROTECT them AND nearby Civilians. You can’t possibly understand the FEAR AND TERROR they hold EVERY SECOND of EVERY DAY! So don’t you DARE judge them for mistakes.

and here’s the response of one brave user, this legend, this badass mofo, who replied to their bullshittery and got banned for a day for posting in the whiny crybaby bitch’s journal without permission:

Replying to this, because FireWolf1117 is intentionally spreading misinformation and hate. I don’t care if the staff is going to tell me off for this — for once, I care a little more about setting this right than following the Journal rule.

First of all, United States cops are legally not required to save civilians. It’s not considered unconstitutional, according to the case Warren v. District of Columbia (444 A.2d. 1, D.C. Ct. of Ap. 1981). To keep it short, cops can literally see crimes being committed and decide not to intervene if they feel like it. This has been quite common among police departments if you (objectively) compare the police’s actions during BLM protests and anti-lockdown protests.

Anyways, let’s get to your generalizing logic. I have to agree with you on one thing: generalizing is bad. No group should be generalized because of some rotten apples. However, this doesn’t count for cops. Here’s why not:

The police force isn’t a marginalized group. A police officer is a profession. A job. Cops are public servants. They work for the state, for the civilians. And that’s why they need to be held accountable for any misconduct they commit. Which is, unfortunately, is objectively not the case. According to statistics from https://mappingpoliceviolence.org, 99% of United States cops who have killed citizens have not been criminally charged, because police departments literally protect officers from getting tried. Of the 750+ shootings done by police this year, only four cops are getting tried. So much for “there are only a few corrupt ones”. Black people are also way less likely to carry a weapon compared to White people, while Black people get shot by cops thrice as likely.

What’s more, because the police force is a profession, people can quit being a police officer. This doesn’t count for most of the groups you mentioned: Black people can’t stop being Black, Mexican people can’t stop being Mexican, Americans can’t stop being American (also you including Americans kinda makes you look embarrassing lol no offense), rape victims can’t be ‘unraped’, Muslims (or even just Arabs in general) can’t stop being perceived as Muslims (even Sikhs get seen as Muslims nowadays…) and LGBTI+ people can’t stop being LGBTI+ (unless they discover they’re not). Police officers can literally take their uniform off and be perceived as normal human beings. As soon as they are on duty and take on their uniform, a huge responsibility awaits them. A responsibility that has been abused by them to the point that marginalized people will hesitate before calling the police, fearing that the police will either come too late or escalate the situation. Cops aren’t endangering their own lives. They’re endangering the lives of those they’re supposed to protect. No good person would shoot a man in his back SEVEN times for being 'aggressive’. No good person who claims to protect and serve would kneel on someone’s neck for eight minutes while that person was cooperating with them. No good person would shoot a completely innocent woman in her sleep because they raided the wrong house. (BTW, Breonna Taylor’s murderers are still walking free as if nothing happened.) No good person would shoot a 12-year-old kid for having a toy gun. No good person would kill a man in his car for… picking up his ID to show it to the cop. Just because you cooperate, doesn’t mean that you’re safe.

Your logic is clearly flawed, because you judge cops on their personality, and not on the bigger picture. All cops are “bastards” not because we see all of them are evil killing machines that shoot people on sight — it’s because they contribute to an oppressive system, whether it’s directly or indirectly. It’s more than 'just a few cops’: the government wants bad laws to be enforced, the prison system is getting used as a business model, minorities are forced to live in poor socioeconomic areas on purpose BY the government, gentrification exists, multi billionnaires are exploiting low-class working people even more, there’s a damn pandemic that’s not being taken seriously… And guess who’s at the front of keeping the fragile capitalist system intact? Right. The police. The face of the government, that’s laughing at Black people, people of color, disabled people, LGBTI+ people… No good cop exists, even if they’re nice to everyone. Good cops who speak out against the abuse of other cops get fired, because the police departments don’t want the truth to be exposed. If you truly want to be someone who saves people’s lives, then stop being a cop and get a better job, like a firefighter, an EMT, a psychologist… Anything that isn’t completely corrupted.

Even during the recent BLM protests, cops are showing off their power. They escalate situations without provocation more times than BLM protesters start shit. Also cops are committing literal war crimes by using tear gas and other chemicals against civilians (IT GOES AGAINST THE GENEVA CONVENTION FOR FUCK’S SAKE). Not so protective now, aren’t they? The only thing BLM protesters have hurt are cops’ ego. Trust me, protesters being a little mean to cops won’t ever be as bad as all the innocent lives cops have taken and covered up.

I want to go on forever, because I have a lot more to say (such as why “All Lives Matter” is reactionary and racist, how the police force was formed in the first place, how the effects of slavery and colonialism are still being felt by Black people to this day, how and why 'riots’ can be 'justified’), but I’ll leave it at this. At least I got to give counterarguments to your points. Take care and educate yourself! (Tip: stop watching FOX News and Infowars if you do that, you’re going to develop brainrot! ;__;)

ladies and gentleman of the jury, as you can see, this user not only came into this argument prepared, but they were civil and had links (that aren’t links now oop soz). they gave this bitch plenty of opportunity to learn and grow from this without attacking her.

but your bet your ASS the poor little white girl went crying to her daddy about people ATTACKING HER and BULLYING HER FOR HER OPINIONS!!!! she uses her anxiety as a get out of jail free card CONSTANTLY, bitching and moaning about how, and these are directly quoting from HER own journal:

MAY 29, 2020

I log in to this game to have fun and escape the stresses and problems of real life. I do NOT want to be going about my business, and see “BLM” in someone’s Trainer Card, and have to deal with a surge of overwhelming emotions (whether positive or negative). I simply cannot handle the Anxiety that results.

This is a GAME site. NOT a place to share your political, racial or other stances. PLEASE keep ALL such topics OFF this site. I understand you want to talk about them, and that’s fine. But out of respect for people like me, can you please do so in private with the people you know WANT to see and discuss it?

just admit you’re racist dude.

She uses CSS. SHE CAN FUCKING HIDE OTHER PEOPLE’S FUCKING CARDS. PEOPLE CAN TALK ABOUT WHATEVER THEY DAMN WELL PLEASE ON THEIR OWN DAMN PAGES. THE WORLD DOES NOT REVOLVE AROUND YOU.

Also! You know she only put “whether positive or negative” to quell any hate she might’ve gotten because ANXIETY is usually not a positive emotion. There’s not even a positive CONNOTATION. and she hopes to be published by the end of the year lmfao yeah right.

and then, on JUNE 16, 2020:

I WAS going to make a post in response to the most recent announcement, but now I’m just too frazzled and upset about it. Still making a post. I’ll just be posting it off site so I can say things how I want to say them, and so I don’t have any in game repercussions.

Honestly, though. I log onto this site to ESCAPE reality. I do NOT want to see ANY stance on ANY “cause” ANYWHERE. NONE OF IT BELONGS HERE. NONE!!!! Because of this “decision”, I’m going to make one of my own. I am gone from this site until current affairs are resolved. Heck. Perhaps even after. I will NOT be a part of a site that allows…Ugh. NOT going to get into this here.

but like… she came back a month later lmao

OH AND!! Earlier this month on AUGUST 6, 2020 she posted this!

It really breaks my heart seeing derogatory remarks against Cops in people’s Trainer Cards. It’s upsetting that you feel that way, and even more so that you make your hatred so vehemently known.

Personally, I don’t know why any of those Cop comments are allowed. If someone had something in their Trainer Card against Religion, LGBT, or POC, I guarantee that statement would be removed. So why is it alright for people to make hateful, vile, disgusting remarks against Cops? Despite it being someone’s personal opinion, it’s still Hate Speech, and shouldn’t be allowed.

this bitch is part of the lgbt+ community. she’s part of a marginalized group.

The “"derogatory remarks”“ she’s talking about? #AllCopsAreComplicit #CopsStinky #AllCopsSuck

which brings us back to Exhibit A, ladies and gentlemen! Her equating #AllCopsAreComplicit and #CopsSTINKY to "All LGBT deserve to die” and a Shitton of other stereotypes. Well fucking done.

Despite bitching and moaning about I DONT WANNA SEE ANYTHING, despite there being ways she can fucking hide it HER DAMN SELF she chooses instead to bitch piss moan bitch piss moan bitch piss and fucking moan and then when someone calls her out on her genuinely harmful bullshit, pulls the wounded gazelle gambit, claims she’s being attacked, and puts in her Card that “anxiety attack! again! waaaah!” like anyone has a shred of sympathy left for her ugly ass. She can’t handle looking like the bad guy so she plays the anxiety card. She bitches about never having any friends, only depression and anxiety, and it’s like bitch no fucking wonder.

Both the top posts have been taken down, but the user who responded to her has gotten nothing but love for her mad courage in saying something when no one else dared.

Firefurrywolf made a halfassed apology (August 30, 2020) which I won’t go into but there is one line that sticks out to me because it’s such a goddamn lie:

When I state my opinion, I usually do so with grace and eloquence. I did not think about my actions this time.

… do you?

This is a GAME site. NOT a place to share your political, racial or other stances. PLEASE keep ALL such topics OFF this site.

Do you… really?

I log onto this site to ESCAPE reality. I do NOT want to see ANY stance on ANY “cause” ANYWHERE. NONE OF IT BELONGS HERE. NONE!!!!

I don’t think so. You vile, disgusting, manipulative, obnoxious, PRETENTIOUS, racist, terfy bitch.

Oh, before I forget, yeah. Terf. She looks like one too. All over her insta. Gross.

NOVEMBER 19, 2019

My response to a LGBT post in one of my writing groups.

I don’t know most of these terms within the community. Don’t really care to know either, cause your preferences won’t change my feelings about who you are. I probably should, though, cause the Its and Xes really confuse me.

I knew I was a Demi-Ace for a few years. I’ve also known that I was Poly since I was early teens. But I’m also attracted to beauty and care more about who you are as a person than your preferences, so apparently I’m Panaesthetic as well?

Also firm believer of “True Love Knows NO Bounds”

Her journal got moved to 18+ because there was a post talking about sex. Might’ve even been alluding to rape. On a CHILDREN’S SITE. In her CHILD-FRIENDLY journal. It sat there for at least two months. TWO MONTHS. But I will not be posting that here, but it’s still there if anyone wants to snoop. All of this is public. Well, it was. But at least minors won’t be exposed to this histrionic little whiny whitey who is absolutely drowning in her white privilege.

Just because she changed her pfp from her face to a shitty drawing she did doesn’t hide the fact that she’s white, and the worst kind of person with little to no actual coping skills.

She claims to be an artist, a writer, all this, blah blah, but then why doesn’t she channel any of it into her work so she can get fucking better at them? She says she’s working on losing weight, so do that. Instead of shrieking and stomping your fucking feet like a toddler at the peak of their terrible two’s, throwing tantrum after fucking tantrum on a CHILDREN’S SITE about your shitty stances, go for a fucking walk. Punch a fucking punching bag. Literally anything else. You’ll feel better, you’ll lose weight faster, you’d be keeping your vitriol to your damn self and no one will “attack” you.

“Are you ourtraged yet? GOOD. It means I touched a nerve!”

She fucking wanted a reaction. But couldn’t handle it when she actually got one. I’m so embarrassed. Grow some fucking thicker skin, you’re older than I am. Grow a pair and shut the goddamn FUCK up.

For now, the evil is defeated, and I rest my fucking case.

#this is a nice archive #pokefarm #pfq #pokefarm drama #submission

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cutestlittlekoi · 3 years

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"You're such a fucking brat."

Xander aggressively slammed his door, leaving Alexis in the hallway alone, fist clenched, face red in embarrassment.

Roommates. They suck. Especially when your roommate happens to be your high school bully.

Alexis was everyones favorite. Endless friends, lunch dates, swooning boys, and academic achievements was her daily life. Xander was the, per say, 'bad boy' stereotype. All the girls loved him. He got his dick wet almost daily, building a reputation for himself. Athletic, attractive, smart, but only used it for trouble. And that's what he found when he met Alexis. What a perfect target for his daily abuse. Constant shoves in the hallways, jokes about their appearance, pinches and flicks that evolved into harassment. An honest dick, in general. Years of torment she put up with. Until finally Alexis was free. High school graduation came and went, Alexis found a career path in video editing and photography, using skating professionally and an undercover OnlyFans account as extra cash on the side. Of course, being on her own for the first time was scary, so in order to combat loneliness and financial strain, she looked for a roommate. Finally, she came across an ad, desperate for anyone. It only took 2 days of planning before she moved in, excited to find out the house was only some old high school buddies. Little did she know, that included Xander. Right across the hall from her. On the second story. That no one else inhabited but the two of them. Ironic, right? Relishing in their high school days, Xander took his opportunity to make Alexis' life hell more than it already was. He stopped laundry mid wash, unplug her monitors and equipment, leave her cameras on to drain the batteries, move her personal stuff from cabinets, and "misplace" her chargers. Finally, Alexis had enough when he found out about her private OnlyFans and threatened to leak her identity.

"How do you think your parents will feel about that? Your clientele? All your little friends? Hell, even your own roommates? You think they'll want that kind of attention here?" Xander laughed sadistically, facing the teary-eyed girl that stood before him.

"I...You...Just..." She stumbled over her words, threatening to break at any moment.

"Aww, what? Are you gonna cry? How fucking pathetic. You're so sad, just a little loser, huh?"

That was it. Something snapped in her. The teasing, the harassment, the torture, the constant fighting. It finally got to her. She looked up at Xander, feeling a new found anger and confidence all in one.

"Fuck you."

"What did you just say to me?"

"Fuck. You. You absolute pathetic piece of shit. You're worth nothing. You look down on others to feel better about yourself! You're nothing but a sniveling, pathetic, unworthy, steaming pile of shit. I hate you."

Xander stared in amazement at her. Did she just stand up to him? No, she wouldn't dare. But she did? What does he do now? He never expected her to snap like that. But he knew one thing. He didn't like it.

"You're such a fucking brat."

Xander aggressively slammed his door, leaving Alexis in the hallway alone, fist clenched, face red in embarrassment. She yelled in frustration and turned and stomped down the hallway to the bathroom. Once inside, she washed her face, catching her breath. Her roommates were going out of town that day, already having left the house, so it was just her and Xander. But she didn't care right now. She was simply just hoping he'd get the hint and leave her alone for that bit of time.

Stalking back to her room, she sighed, feeling herself get heavy. What was it about him that made her so irritated? She could live without his torment and sleep peacefully at night. But she couldn't bring herself to leave. Why? What was her issue? She didn't want to admit he was attractive, or that she stared at his body when he was shirtless, or that his swearing was occasionally hot, because she was supposed to hate him. But as she laid in bed that night, she couldn't help but feel herself get wet at the idea of him between her legs.

After several minutes, it became unbearable and she had to reach her small hand down to feel herself through her shorts. Her legs ached as she arched her back, a gentle moan escaping her lips. She didn't care about her soft noises, considering Xander would be fast asleep by now and it would be just her. But unbeknownst to her, a particular person was listening. Getting up to get a water bottle, Xander opened his door, taking one step out before he heard a certain noise, quite familiar to him. Not being able to help himself, he quietly crossed the hall to Alexis' door, pressing his ear to it, only to be welcomed by a symphony of whimpers. Scoffing, he rolled his eyes in disgust. Until one of said whimpers included his name. Intrigued, he pressed further, hearing unholy confessions involving him spilling from Alexis' lips. It wasn't before long that he had his own problem to take care of, cursing himself and rushing back to his room to gather his thoughts.

The next morning, life continued as normal. Alexis hopped downstairs, wearing a perfect little skirt, some pretty pink fishnets, knee high cat socks, an oversized tshirt, and a darling choker accented by matching rings on corresponding hands. Bouncing into the kitchen, she leaned against the counter trying to reach the cereal. Only to be outstretched by a larger hand dazzled in rings. She shrunk down, watching as Xander picked it off the shelf, chuckling behind her. It sent chills down her spine. Did she have a newfound attraction to him?? No, no, it can't be. She turned around, coming face to face with the tall man as he towered over her. An intimidation tactic. She gasped as he pushed her up against the counter.

"Well, look who's brave enough to show their face."

Alexis scowled, moving out the side to get away from him. Xander laughed, putting the cereal back on its respective shelf. He leaned against the counter, watching carefully as Alexis crossed the kitchen to open the fridge, getting out a water bottle. As she bends down, he gets a beautiful view of the underside of her thighs and curve of her ass. He smirks, seeing her stand back up, turning around to glare at him as she heads towards the entrance to retreat to her room. Before she gets the chance to escape, Xander grabs her arm. Alexis' turns and stares up at him, startled for a second before she attempts to yank her arm from his grasp. He only tightens his grip, causing her to question him.

"Let me go, what's your deal?"

"Oh, so you don't wanna explain what last night was about?"

She rolls her eyes.

"So what? I stood up to you, get over it."

She turned to exit again, only to be pulled back and slammed back first against the counter. She cried out in pain, pushing against Xander with all her might. But he only grabbed her chin, forcing to make eye contact with him. Alexis whimpered, making Xander chuckle.

"I'm not talking about that, brat."

"W-What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb, bitch. I heard you moaning my name, begging for me. I may be too blind to see it, but I'm definitely not too deaf."

Alexis gasped, turning immediately red. Quickly, she began to struggle, hitting Xander in the stomach. He groaned and backed into the opposing stove, while Alexis made a run for her room. Xander composed himself, and chased after her, catching up quickly. He wrapped an arm around her waist, throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her into his room. Tossing her on his bed, he turned and locked his door quickly, despite her protest. She quickly backed away further into his bed when he advanced towards her. Grabbing both of her legs, he yanked her back down, his strength winning over hers. Tears formed in her eyes as she covered her face, flustered by her obvious vulnerability to him. He rips her hands away from her face, slapping her before forcing her to look back at him. Dazed, her mouth falls open, allowing him to spit into it. He forces her to close and swallow, tears falling out of her now closed eyes, giving up her fight.

"See, now was that so hard, darling?"

Alexis whimpered in response, letting her arms fall limp next to her.

"Aww, poor darling. Giving in to me." Xander runs his thumb across her bottom lip, eyes glistening in anticipation and excitement.

"God, I wonder what that pretty little mouth feels like." He marvels at her reaction, her eyes flying open and looking at him with fear. He laughs, a sadistic smile coming across his face.

"First, I want to get a taste."

He leans down, gripping her chin, kissing her soft lips. Xander groans into her mouth, making her whimper and her eyes flutter. Her mouth falls open again out of pleasure, letting him slip his tongue in. He chuckles against her lips. How easy it was to overpower her. Eventually, he pulls away, a trail of saliva still connecting the two. Alexis pants, feeling herself get wet from the minimal contact. She goes to reach her hand down to her aching cunt, only to be slapped again by Xander. He growls at her, while she winces in pain, tears streaming from her eyes once again.

"Don't you fucking dare. I tell you when you can touch, understand?"

She absentmindedly nods her head. Still in a trance, she snaps out of her head, only to find she's on the floor. Her knees touch the soft carpet, as she sits back in her heels. She gently tilts her head up, greeted by Xander's hand caressing her stinging, red cheek.

"Now, precious, I want you to show me what you can offer me. If you do good enough, I'll let you have my cock."

Alexis whimpers at his words, agreeing to his terms. Xander takes the invitation, undoing his belt, and unbuttoning his jeans. Once done, he sets his belt on the bed, saving it for later. He reaches down, rubbing his bulge over his boxers, his cold rings stinging against his burning, thinly clothed skin. Alexis watches with lidded eyes, mouth watering at the sight. How is she turned on by this? It was wrong. Yet, she needed it. She wanted it. But she'd never openly admit it. Or so she thinks.

"Open up, I'm gonna use that pretty little tongue to my liking, understand?"

Alexis dutifully opened her mouth, sticking her tongue out. Xander quickly pulled his throbbing cock out, gently stroking himself. Precum dripped from his tip, showing his excitement. Soon, Xander was forcing his shaft down Alexis' throat, feeling the warmth of her mouth surrounding him. He groans, leaning his head back as his fists her hair. Tears well in her eyes, but from how big he is this time. He begins using her mouth to his pleasure, shoving his cock down her throat, fucking it to his liking. Moans fill the room as he pants out curses. Alexis feels herself getting wetter and wetter, soaking her pretty pink panties, legs aching from desperation. Finally, after several minutes, Xander pulls out of her mouth, panting and breathing heavily as his cock pulses from the lack of contact. He picks Alexis up, forcing her down on the bed. He reaches into his adjacent night stand, pulling out his pretty little pistol. Alexis' eyes widen as she gasps. Xander whips around, gently shushing her, putting the gun against her stomach.

"It's ok, pretty. I'm not gonna hurt ya. If, you listen to me like a good girl."

She whimpers a quick agreement, fear paralyzing her body. Xander reaches his free hand down, pulling her soaked panties to the side, rubbing up and down her slit. Alexis moans and arches her back, rolling her eyes and whimpering as Xander presses the gun further against her. He pressed his tip against her entrance, feeling her body tense up. He chuckles lightly, running the gun down to her lower stomach, pressing firmly.

"Let me in, pretty."

Alexis quickly relaxes, eyes closing tightly as she grips the sheets. Slowly, Xander pushes in, grunting when he hits her cervix only 2/3 inside of her.

"Oh, aren't you just a tiny little thing?" He groans, feeling her cunt clench around him.

"That's it baby, come on."

Xander begins sliding in and out of her slick hole, and before long, moans flood the room. He looks up to see Alexis completely overwhelmed with pleasure. Drool leaks from her mouth, eyes lidded, moans and pants flowing out of her mouth like words. Completely in Xander’s hands. He picks up speed, hitting all of her soft spots expertly, cussing loudly when she tightens around him, whimpering his name. Soon, she starts arching her back, pressing against the gun, fisting the sheets, crying out for Xander. He gathers that she’s cumming, feeling her gush around his cock. He restrains himself from cumming solely from that, trying to enjoy this moment. But he can only try so hard. He moves his hands on either side of Alexis, ditching the gun on the bed, and grabbing his belt. He carefully wraps it around Alexis’ throat, tightening it, letting her gasp for air. She lets out an exasperated beg for Xander, making him pull harder. He leaned down to her exposed jawline, biting roughly and leaving a large hickey. He pounds in and out of her faster as he bruises her uncovered neck, leaning up towards her ear.

“I’m close. I want you to cum again, pretty. Understand? I’m gonna fill you up nice and good, ok?”

Alexis moans, not being able to comprehend what he says. It wasn’t long before she was cumming again, screaming out his name, gripping desperately to the bed, gasping for air. It pushed him over the edge, him groaning her name, pushing one final time against her cervix as he bred her sweet cunt. Xander panted, resting his head against her shoulder, eventually pulling out of her. Thoughts flooded his head of what was to come the next day, but oh-fucking-well. All he cared about was cleaning Alexis up, and falling asleep next to her.

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johaerys-writes · 3 years

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Tea for two and two for tea. What happens when two kinky boys read too many Varric Tethras romance novels?

More gratuitous smut, just in time for Kinktober 2020! Featuring @oftachancer‘s Aran and my Tristan :)

Kinktober prompts: Cross-dressing, Roleplay, Spanking