When Grantaire asks Enjolras out, he almost says no.
He doesn’t want to date Grantaire. Grantaire is antagonistic, apathetic, annoying, infuriatingly intelligent and nothing that Enjolras is romantically attracted to.
But Grantaire looked up at him with nervous eyes and Enjolras had wanted to go to that exhibit, and Courfeyrac had said he should try to fight with Grantaire less and it’s only one date, what’s the worst that could happen? It will be awkward then they’ll both forget about it.
Then the date is wonderful. Awkward at first, but they begin to talk about art programs in underfunded schools and they talk and talk and end up at a cafe, eyes wide and bright, listening to each other, trying to understand that other not just dismiss what the other says out of habit. They don’t fight, and when Grantaire quietly asks for a second date at the end of the night Enjolras doesn’t even think about finding a reason to say no.
So it goes week after week, date after date, and at some point they end up holding hands every time they are together, lips pressed to cheeks in greeting and goodbye.
It’s not something Enjolras particularly wants or needs but it is nice, he doesn’t mind. When Grantaire calls him his boyfriend, Enjolras likes the title, even if he doesn’t feel like Grantaire’s boyfriend. Grantaire is still antagonistic, apathetic, annoying, infuriatingly intelligent and nothing that Enjolras is attracted to. He doesn’t want to write sonnets about Grantaire eyes, or that curl right behind his ear, or buy Grantaire flowers.
But Enjolras still wants to go places with Grantaire, and hold his hand, and hear what he has to say about the world. And that’s enough.
And then Grantaire has a dance recital– he comes to ABC meetings right after rehearsal, still in leggings and a loose shirt, smelling like stale sweat, a smile on his face; “today we finally perfected that last pass, it should be ready for Friday, I hope you all can come–”
Enjolras goes home avoiding Combeferre, Jehan, Joly eyes filled with concern, “no I’m fine just a little tired.” Avoids Grantaire, “yes, of course, I’ll be there on Friday, I just need to go home right now.”
And then he’s alone at home and he thinks about the smile Grantaire had, the way the skin around his eyes crinkled, the way he almost hit Bosset showing how he lifts his partner and how his shirt rode up and
His first reaction is to call Combeferre, call Courfeyrac, but this is something that they can’t help with. This is him and Grantaire. He needs figure this out by himself.
Enjolras sits and he writes. He writes down every single thing about Grantaire, pinning him to paper, no detail left unnoticed, no virtue or vice dismissed. He sits and he writes for hours, turning over the man who had crept into his life without notice.
Finally, at two in the morning, he puts his pen down, leans back and thinks aloud ‘I have a crush on Grantaire’
and chaste, firm, upright, hard, candid, terrible Enjolras, blushes and—
‘I have a crush on Grantaire,’
He picks up the phone and calls him because Enjolras doesn’t waste time or emotion and—
—and Grantaire had, at some point, without him noticing, become the most contacted, most thought about, most important person in his life.
and Grantaire sounds so concerned fuck, Enjolras still hasn’t explained why he left the meeting like that, why he was acting so oddly and it can wait because right now the most important thing is
“Grantaire I have a crush on you”
“Enjolras our year anniversary is coming up in 2 weeks what do you mean you have a crush on me?”
“I really don’t wanna go down there.” Olivia said, shaking her head as she held onto the bucket of hot water.
“Then why do you do it?” You said confused as you looked back at her. You could see just how much she hated her job of having to take care of Negan.
“It’s just the job Rick gave to me, and I thought I could handle it.” She said, walking hesitantly to the basement door of the abandoned building you were currently in.
“Don’t. I’ll go.” You said with a shrug, “It can’t be that hard.”
You hadn’t been with the group long, you weren’t around for this whole “war” that they often talked about, which led to the way they were living their lives now. You always heard about the man they called Negan, but had never met him, but from the things that you had heard - all the stories - he was someone that everyone once feared, and for good reason. If half of what you heard was true, then he was terrifying. It made you nervous to even offer to trade jobs with her, but you saw how much she truly despised it, and figured that it would be easier on you than her. Your job was to stay upstairs and keep an eye out for anything suspicious, and having full permission from Rick to take Negan out if he tried to escape.
“No, (Y/N). I really shouldn’t, I don’t know how Rick would feel about it.” She answered. She was saying no, but you could see in her eyes that she wanted to say yes to it. It wouldn’t take much more pushing of the question to get her to agree.
You crossed you arms, “Rick doesn’t have to know, okay? We won’t tell him.”
“Negan would tell him.” She said matter-of-factly.
“Why would he do that?” You were genuinely confused now.
“That statement alone let’s me know that you don’t need to do this, (Y/N). He can’t be trusted, you don’t know him like the rest of us.” She warned.
You were beginning to grow just a little annoyed. You were offering her a chance to get out of it, and she seemed to come up with every excuse to say no.
You sighed and took a step closer to her, “I’ll ask him not to tell Rick, okay? And even if he tells him, so what? We’ll tell Rick you don’t wanna do this anymore. You can sit up here and keep a lookout while I deal with him.”
She pressed her lips together with a worried expression on her face, thinking it over until finally have you a reluctant nod, “Okay, okay.. I’ll let you do it.”
“Alright.” You said, your face was a blank expression, but inside you were nervous and intrigued all at once, you were finally gonna meet the man everyone has been afraid of.
She handed over the bucket of water to you, “You take this, and let him clean up.” She trailed off as she reached into her pocket to pull out a small leather pouch, “You’ll need this too if he wants to shave.. I’m assuming you know how to use one of these?” She said as she pulled a flap back on the pouch to reveal a straight razor.
You nodded, “It can’t be that hard, I just know I’d have to be extra careful.. I’m shaving him?” You said with a confused expression.
“Yes, you do. We never let him do it himself. You should also make sure that he keeps his distance.” She said, giving you a concerned look.
“You’re talking like he’s psychotic, or something, Olivia.” Your forehead creased.
“I don’t say it lightly, (Y/N). Keep your guard up at all times.. Here, you’ll need this, too, obviously.” She said as she reaching into her pocket, pulling out a small shiny object - it was the key to Negan’s cell.
You nodded again and stuffed the leather pouch into your pocket, taking the key from her, “I will.” You turned the knob of the basement door slowly, the creaking of it disturbing the silence, the draft of cold, damp air hitting you. You gave Olivia one more glance before you turned to walk down the rickety wooden steps as she shut the door behind you tightly. You had to admit you were a bundle of nerves going down there, you were shaking and it wasn’t from the cool air of the drafty basement. When you got to the bottom step, you took a moment to collect yourself, taking in a deep breathe. You could see the makeshift cell that has been welded against the wall. You glanced nervously into the darkened cell, just barely being able to make out a silhouette of the man named Negan.
You jumped suddenly when a voice sounded from the other side of the bars.
“Y'know I started to fuckin’ ask when Olivia had such a dramatic goddamn weight loss.” A deep voice said in a cheeky tone.
You approached the bars cautiously, setting down the bucket, “I’m not Olivia.”
“Yeah, I kinda fuckin’ figured that out on my own.” He said matter-of-factly. You could hear scraping on the concrete floor as his silhouette became bigger, he must have been sitting on the floor. You were finally granted your first glimpse of the man as he approached the bars, feeding his arms through them. You weren’t disappointed with the sight, he was tall, and more handsome than you had expected him to be. He was sporting a full beard, but his hair was short and slicked back against his skull, compared to his beard it must have been cut recently. You looked down at your feet for a moment, not being able to keep contact with his dark, intimidating eyes for very long.
“Where the fuck is my dear, Olivia? Not that I’m complaining, this is a nice fuckin’ change of scenery.” He said slowly, you looked back to see his tongue darting from between his lips. You could feel his eyes on your body, and suddenly you lost your voice.
“You’re not gonna fuckin’ ignore me now, are you?” He spoke sternly, regaining your attention.
You shook your head quickly, “No sir- I mean, Negan. She’s- she’s upstairs. I traded with her.”
He raised an eyebrow, “Sir? That’s fuckin’ sweet of you. What’s your name, darlin’?”
Your mouth relaxed into a thin line, “(Y/N)”
He gave you a dangerous, yet charming smirk, “That is a beautiful name.”
You bit your lip, trying not to let a smile break through, “Thank you.” You fiddled with your fingers absentmindedly as the silence filled the air again.
Negan leaned against the bars, “You seem pretty fuckin’ nervous.”
“Well, you are pretty infamous around here.” You admitted.
Negan chuckled, letting his teeth scrape over his bottom lip, “Yeah? According to fuckin’ who - Rick?”
You nodded slowly, “Him and the others. I’ve heard things.”
“You don’t look too fuckin’ familiar to me. I’m guessing you’re new?” He smirked cockily.
You were still nervous, but there was something about him that made you relax just a bit, and you weren’t sure if that was a good thing, or a bad thing that had a chance of getting you into some deep shit.
“I am. I wasn’t around for the war that everyone talks about. I’ve been here for about 3 months, give or take a few weeks.”
His lips parted as he gave you a coy grin, “I’ve been stuck behind these fuckin’ bars for almost a year now. After hearing the stories, you didn’t even fuckin’ bother to pay a visit to the resident jail bird, darlin’?”
You gave him a weak smile and shrugged, “Well I imagine you wouldn’t want people to come down here to gawk at you like a caged animal, and frankly, I was scared.”
“But I am a fuckin’ animal, sweetheart.” He said confidently, his white teeth peekimg through his lips.
He has a dark look in his eyes, that was almost.. Seductive.. The way his eyes trailed over you as he said it made you realize that he was hinting that he was an animal not just for his crimes, but for a more primal reason. A sudden, familiar heat rose up inside of you, a heat you hadn’t felt In a long time, and one that you so often ached to feel again. It was startling, you bit down on your lip hard, almost certain you had broken the skin. Negan making you feel this way - especially so soon - was wrong, it made you uncomfortable and excited all at once. You did your best to keep your composure as you felt the dampness between your legs increasing. You had to avert your eyes away from him again, his stare was so intense. You were sure he’d see right through you, and if he did, he spared you the embarrassment of letting it be known.
“Sweetheart, are you gonna give me my bucket of water any fuckin’ time soon? I’d like to use it before it gets cold.” He said, parting his hands as he leaned his head against a cell bar.
You closed your eyes, exhaling a shaky breath and dipped your hand into your pocket to pull the key out, “Yes, I’m sorry.” You approached his cell door, glancing at him timidly as you reached out to shove the key into the lock, turning it until there was a click. You pulled the door slowly, your hands gripping so tightly around one of the bars that your knuckles were turning white for fear he was going to dart from behind the bars. You held your breathe as he pulled his arms back through the bars and sauntered over to the door. He towered over you, forcing you to look up to meet his gaze and up close it was even more intimidating and.. Sexy. If he took it upon himself to try to escape there’s no way in hell you could have stopped him. He gave you a sly smirk as he bent down to grab the bucket and take it back into his cell, and it took everything in you to keep you from melting then and there. There was something about that man that was absolutely intoxicating. You weren’t the kind of woman to swoon for a man who gave you just the least bit of attention, but even you couldn’t deny the charm that radiated off of him.
You backed away from the cell, leaving the door ajar. You weren’t sure what you were supposed to do next, you felt your cheeks flush red again as you glanced over to see the white t-shirt he was wearing being pulled from his body. He was toned and had a few stray tattoos here and there, most notably being the cross on his left arm. If the top half looked this good, what else did he have hidden away under his clothes? You brushed the thought away, scolding yourself internally for thinking such a thing.
You could feel your palms getting clammy, “I should give you some privacy.”
He snorted and dipped a rag into the bucket, “Don’t fuckin’ get shy on my account, darlin’. Sweet thing usually fuckin’ sits over there and reads until I’m done.” He said gesturing to a chair in the corner of the room.
“Oh.. Right.” You said bashfully as you turned quickly, heading for the chair before he could take anymore clothes off. You sat down, keeping your eyes at your feet, trying to hold back your temptation to sneak a peek at this man. You tapped your foot lightly on the ground, you could hear the unzipping of his pants now and your eyes scanned along the floor momentarily, but they snapped back to your feet once his voice sounded again.
“How do you fuckin’ like it around here?” He said, sloshing water around in the bucket.
You gave a shrug, assuming that he was looking at you, “It’s nice. It’s sort of boring, but with the way stuff is now, I guess I should be thankful for a boring life.”
You heard him chuckle, “You don’t strike me as a boring girl, darlin’. You look like your prone to getting into some shit.”
You smirked, he wasn’t entirely wrong about that. A few moments passed, the silence fell over the room again, the only sound to be heard was the sound of water. Your temptation was beginning to override you and your curiosity had taken over you, your eyes trailed along the floor again. Fuck it. You eyes quickly darted forward, making contact with his bare body, and the sight was not disappointing either. Your eyes widened at the sight, your legs clenched involuntarily as felt the dampness between to legs beck not noticeable than before. This man was supposed to be so terrible and evil, but here you were lusting after him after you just met.
“It you want a better fuckin’ look at my dick, just say so, sweetheart.” His deep time called, breaking your concentration on his body.
You had a look of guilt on your face as you met his eyes in embarasment. He stood there, smirking as he dropped the rag back into the bucket.
You closed your eye tightly, shaking your head, “I- I’m sorry.” You opened one eye back up slowly.
He bit his lip, “It doesn’t fuckin’ bother me, darlin’. Don’t get much fuckin’ action from women these days, and try as I fuckin’ might, your other half up there won’t give me the time of fuckin’ day.. Is she a goddamn carpet muncher or something?” He said as he pulled his pants back on.
You chewed your lip “No, I don’t think so..”
He sniffed and gave you a shrug as he walked out of his cell, setting the bucket outside, his shirtless chest still glistening from the water running down it, “Could’ve fooled me. Shit, I’ve been trying to get her for months - and nothing - not even a sad eyecontactless handjob.”
Your lips parted slightly as your hand clamped over your face, trying to stifle back laughter.
He sucked his teeth as he walked forward, “Is it that amusing, babydoll?”
You shook your head, “I’m sorry. After all the things I’ve heard.. I never expected you to be funny.”
He shrugged and gave you a smile, “It wasn’t a joke, but what-the-fuck-ever. Do you have the razor, darlin’. I’d like to get this goddamn bush off my face.” He said run in his hand through his beard.
You gave a nod as you stood up, “I do.” You pulled the chair to the middle of the room to let him sit in it. He watched you intently as you pulled the leather pouch from your pants pocket to take the razor out.
“I’m not gonna lie, I don’t really know what I’m doing with this.” You confessed, your eyebrows knitting together.
He intertwined his hands behind his head as he leaned back in the chair “Just try not to slit my fuckin’ throat, darlin’. You’re gonna need to sharpen it first of all.”
He closed his eyes with a smirk, “See this belt looking shit right here?” He said reaching around the back of the chair to pull on what looked like a strip of leather, “You sharpen it with this.”
“Okay, then I definitely don’t know what I’m doing.” You huffed, running a hand over your face.
“Here, give it to me.” He said reaching out for it.
You backed up quickly, pulling the arm that held it behind you. Giving him a hostile look. Did he think you were that stupid?
He gave you a call smile and blinked, “I’m serious. Look, if I wanted to fuckin’ escape, I wouldn’t need a dull fuckin’ straight razor to do it, babydoll.” He said leaning forward, his tone was serious, not the joking-nonchalant one he had been using the majority of the time.
You knew it was probably a terrible idea, and your mind was screaming at you not to do it, but you couldn’t help but believe him, and his natural charm wasn’t any help in keeping you cautious of him for very long. You let out a breathe and took a slow step towards him, reaching out to give it to him. You felt the chills run down your body when his hand made contact with yours, his fingers lingering over your skin longer than they should have before he pulled back, taking the one object he shouldn’t have been allowed do have in his hand. You had to let your mind adjust to the situation, you could only imagine Olivia’s face if she she saw this shit. You took a step back as you carefully watched the razor in his grasp as he stepped to the back of the chair, pulling the leather strap tightly to run the blade of the razor back and forth across it. This was a dangerous situation, and you knew it, but it seemed to excite you further at the same time. You could see the muscles in his bare arm flexing each time he moved. Your teeth found your bottom lip again, giving it a generous tug as you watched him. It was so easy to go into a trance-like state while you watched him, any movement he made being done with fluidity and ease, only making you all the more intrigued by him. You listened to the scraping of the blade against the leather, it was somewhat soothing as it eased the tense air of the room. You were snapped out of your transfixed state when when the scraping stopped. You swallowed, there was a lump im your throat when he turned back towards you, the sharpened razor still in his hand. You exhaled shakily.. Was this it? Was he gonna slit your throat and escape? So many thoughts were running through you as he stepped towards you, your body tensing, preparing for whatever he was going to do next. But you relaxed just as fast as you had been bracing yourself for something terrible.
He folded the razor back into itself, extending his arm to hand it over to you, “Might wanna be extra fuckin’ careful, sugar. It’s sharp as shit, and I’m not in the mood to get my throat slit today.”
You took it from his hand, giving him an obedient nod, surprised that he even gave it back to you at all, “I handn’t planned on it.” You smirked.
He finally sat back down, giving you some peace of mind when he did so. You walked around the the back of the chair to a small table that sat beside the wall. It was obviously Olivia’s setup for when she had the job of shaving him. You grabbed a can of shaving cream that sat on it and a clean rag before walking back over to him. His hands were back behind his head again, and his legs were kicked out as if he didn’t have a care in the world. You had to admit, you sort of admired that about him. He truly didn’t give a shit.
You held the can out to him, “I’m sure this part you can manage yourself, right?” You said teasingly.
He gave you a challenging expression and reached out to take the can from you, “You’ve sorta got a fuckin’ attitude on you, don’t you?”
“No more than you seem to have.” You brushed some hair behind your ear, giving a small smile as he began to cover his beard with shaving cream, “Females with an attitude intimidate you, or something?”
He ran his hand over his beard, his eyes shifting to you, giving you an almost dangerous look, and you decided at that moment maybe you should choose your words more carefully, he was still some who was unpredictable in his actions. His eyes narrowed as they continued to burn into yours as he handed the can back to you.
“No. I’ve always had a fuckin’ thing for the ones with an attitude.. They were always more fun to break.” He said, clearing his throat.
You turned quickly to bring the can back to the table, happy to get away from his gaze for another moment, mainly because you didn’t want him to see you blushing, yet again. It was beginning to get ridiculous. You took in a breath and walked back in from of him, opening up the razor slowly as you stood beside him, your nervousness growing again once you realized you were going to get extra up close and personal with him. You knew it wasn’t that you were were fearful of him harming you, it was for the fact that it would be would no secret to him now that you were weakened by his charming nature.
You stood there for a moment, overlooking his features before you finally reached out, placing your free hand on his head. He complied easily enough, tilting his head to the side as your brought down the razor, being careful not to cut him as you slid it down his cheek, listening to the scraping of it against his skin. He often shifted his eyes, looking at you out the corner of them. Once the first stroke was done, you were a little more confident in what you were doing.
“Shit, that was easy enough, huh?” He said as you wiped the razor on the rag, before bringing it back up to his skin again.
“Yeah, you’re still alive. I’d say I’m not doing too bad.” You smirked.
“Tell me something about your fuckin’ self, darlin’. You got yourself a man.. Or a fuckin’ woman? Can’t imagine something as pretty as you is single.” He said shifted his eyes over to you once, again giving you another sly grin.
You shook your head slowly, trying to keep your concentration as the razor glided across his skin again, “No. I was with someone, but that was a very long time ago.”
Negan hummed softly, giving you that dangerous look again. It had become apparent now that, that look made you susceptible to becoming very hot and bothered. The thought of throwing your leg over him and taking a seat brushed across your mind, you wondered how he would react. You bit the inside of your cheek roughly for letting these intruding thoughts keep popping into your mind. You finally finished with one side of his face, you looked down at his legs that were splayed out, blocking you.
You looked at him timidly, “Could you uh- your legs.”
“Sure fuckin’ thing, sweetheart.” He said clearing his throat as he sat up straight in the chair.
You moved in front of him, noting mentally that you were in the perfect position to straddle him for real now. You closed your eyes briefly. These thoughts didn’t seem like they were ever gonna stop, and you weren’t sure that you really wanted them to. You leaned forward, your hands sliding into his hair again, the sound of the razor over his skin filling the room. You followed his gaze and he made no effort to hide the fact that his eyes were locked onto your cleavage, his teeth brushing over his bottom lip. As if you weren’t hot enough over him already, the sight of lust in his eyes as he stared at your full breasts through the thin shirt you were wearing surely did it for you. You gave a small, mischievous smirk to yourself and leaned down a little further, making it seem like you wanted to be extra precise in shaving him, but in reality, you were teasing him, but of course he knew it. He raised his eyes up to you, meeting yours again. It was a dark, hungered look in his eyes and you could see his jaw flaring as he clenched his teeth tightly. You had to look away from him again, it was more intense than any stare he had given you yet, and you could feel your core clenching around nothing as your arousal began to meet it’s peak. At this point, you weren’t sure who was driving who crazy. The sexual tension in the room was no secret. It was a heavy, aching feeling.
As you got to the last bit of hair, you tried to shave it quickly. As you stood over him, your breast still in his face, you could feel the warmth of his fingertips as they brushed lightly over your legs. You swallowed hard as they rested lightly on the outside of your jeans. He was testing you to see how far you’d let him go, and at this point you were a practically a puddle beneath him, willing to let him do whatever he wanted, but trying - and failing - to keep that a secret. Once you finally finished, you backed up slowly from him, folding the razor back down and walked over to the table to set it down, grabbing another clean rag to hand to him.
He took it and wipe off the remnants of the shaving cream.
“You’re all done.” You said, exhaling, “Is that all you needed?”
He finished wiping his face and tossed the rag back onto the table before looking at you again, “That’s not all I fuckin’ need, darlin’.”
You were both locked in a staring competition now. Neither of you looked away, and you getting up the courage to not shy away from him this time as the sexual tension in the room seemed to boil over. You inhaled deeply, unwavering as you took one step towards him.
“What is it?” You said. You stood firm, but your voice was shaking.
He reached out again, letting a hand wrap around your thigh this time, running to your back, and down to grab your ass. A silent sign escaping your lips. Every nerve in your body seemed like it was on fire, and once Negan sensed that you were just as starved for some contact as he was. He wasted no time in yanking you down to him. You gasped quickly as the sudden jerk of your body as he brought you down to his lips, kissing you hungrily as his tongue darted between your lips. You held onto the back of the chair, finally getting to fulfill your though of straddling him as you threw one leg over him, settling down into his lap. You could feel how hard he was as his cock pressed against your already soaked slit through your jeans. You let out another sigh as his tongue continued to explore your mouth, both his hands now gripping your ass firmly. Your first instinct was to grind into him, and before you knew it, your hips were rolling against his doing your best to make contact with his member trying to relieve some of the ache you felt deep in your core. He seemed to take note of how desperate you were to feel something. He brushed his hands back over your thighs, unbuttoning your pants quickly. You gritted your teeth when a hand found it’s way inside, teasing your wetness with his fingers, your hips involuntarily bucking into his hand, causing a finger to slide inside of you, making you moan. He brought a free hand up to wrap around your neck. You could see the pure lust on his face as he watched you ride his fingers.
“Shit, I missed that goddamn feeling.” He growled seductively, he buried his face into your chest, biting and pulling at your shirt with his teeth, moving up to your neck to suck at the delicate skin. You knew him leaving marks would be a bad idea, but at the moment you didn’t care and you wanted him to mark you everywhere. Your hands fiddled with the button on his pants, finally getting them open as you reached into his jeans to stroke his hard cock. He grunted eagerly as he let the hand on your neck slide down to your breasts, squeezing them through the fabric of your shirt.
“Get this shit off, baby.” He ordered, tugging at your shirt roughly.
You complied immediately, lifting it over your head to throw it to the floor. He brought his hands around you, unhooking your bra with little effort, letting it fall from your body as he stuck his head into your breasts, grasping at them with his free hand, biting and sucking at your nipples as you continued to ride his fingers. By this point, his fingers were coated in your juices, he thumbed at your clit roughly.
You let your hand work up and down the shaft of his cock, moaning softly each time his fingers sunk deeper inside of you with each strike you made, but you wanted him inside of you, you wanted him to fuck you mercilessly while you writhed beneath him. Your free hand tangled in his hair as his face was still buried firmly in your breasts, your hips rocking vigorously on his fingers. He finally lifted his head back up, kissing you roughly, biting your bottom lip.
“You ever fucked in a jail cell before?” He purred seductively in your ear.
He said it as if it was a question, but you both knew it wasn’t. He was telling you what he was going to do to you, and you were more than willing to let him have his way.
“There’s a first time for everything.” You breathed back as he pulled his fingers from you, leaving you aching even more than you were and whimpering for his touch again as he left you with an empty feeling.
You released his cock, wrapping you arms around his neck as his strong arms held you close to him as he stood up, your legs wrapped around his waist as he carried you back to his cell. It was dimly lit inside of it, you didn’t even notice the cot that sat against the wall until he threw you onto it. You pulled yourself up as he stood in for of you, sliding his pants down to his hips, just enough to release his cock. You licked your lips as you watched him, finally getting a good view of just how big he was. Your hands trailed down to the front of your jeans, teasing your sensitive slit through them.
“Get on your knees.” He growled, walking forward to wrap your hair around his fist, you sighed as you propped yourself onto your knees, preparing yourself for what was next. With his fist in your hair he guided you towards him, your mouth opening for him as his cock slipped inside. You could taste the precome that had beaded on the head of his member, dragging your tongue over the tip, lapping it up immediately. He groaned, tilting his head down as his grip tightened on you, you let your lips wrap tightly around his shaft as your head bobbed up and down on him, taking in as much of his cock as you could until you could feel yourself on the verge of gagging, but you wanted to impress him, so you pushed the thought away as you shoved your own head down on his cock even further. response, he let out a moan, bucking his hips into your mouth, you could feel his cock in the back of your throat now, and you were surprised at the amount of control he had. For someone who hadn’t been with an actual woman in a while, you expected him to fuck your throat until it was raw - something you weren’t completely opposed to.
“Jesus Christ, darlin’.” He groaned, forcing his hips against your mouth, causing you to cough, but you didn’t stop sucking him, you let your tongue work up and down his length each time you bobbed your head up and down, doing your best to drive him crazy. You brought your hand up, swirling your tongue around his head, popping it in and out of your mouth lazily, letting your hand pump him, causing more precome to bead out of him. He let out a throaty grunt and pushed you off of him.
You smiled, biting your lip as he looked down at you, his eyes narrowed in a seductive expression as he leaned down, curling his fingers over the top of your jeans, ripping them off of you. You breathed heavily as he did so, not sure how much longer your could hold out. He pushed you back further on the bed as he grasped your legs, raising them to his shoulders as he nestled himself between your legs, kissing and biting hard at your thighs, making you yelp at the feeling, pain mixed with pleasure. You knew it was going to leave bruising tomorrow. He licked your slit through your panties, he was already getting to taste you as your had completely soaked through them, thanks to how turned on he had gotten you before sex was even thought of between the two of you. You laid your head back on the cot, reveling in the feeling of having someone’s tongue on you in such an intimate way again. You had almost forgotten how it felt, and when Negan did it, it felt even better than you had ever remembered it feeling. He brought his finger up to play with your clit through your panties, making you suck in sharp breathes, you were close to begging him. He pulled them to the side, dragging his finger up and down your folds, letting them slide in and out of you, creating a wet sound. Your back arched, his tongue pressed firmly again your clit as he lapped up your juices, his fingers thrusting in and out of you.
“Oh my God.” You moaned as you felt his tongue slide into you. You pulled his hair roughly, strands of it wrapped around your fingers.
“Is that what you fuckin’ like, baby?” He said, biting your wet lips.
“Yes.” You whimpered, you had bent completely to his will and were a mess beneath him, and craving his cock inside of you.
You pulled up on his hair, silently letting him know to come back up to you, “I want you, Negan.”
He leaned forward, kissing and biting his way back up your body, you gripped the sheets, loving the way your skin felt between his teeth. Your legs wrapped around him tightly once his face met yours, yours lips crashing into each other as he grinded against you. You could feel his throbbing cock teasing your aching pussy as he slipped the head in briefly, pulling back out. You whined in protest, bringing your hands back up to dig your nails into his skin, he let out a growl, wrapping his hands around your neck.
“You want this fuckin’ cock, babydoll?” He purred into your ear, nipping at your neck as he drug his teeth across your skin.
“Yes.. Please!” You answered back, letting your legs tighten around him even more.
He gave you a devilish smile as he pushed himself into you, letting all of his length slide into you at once, you lifted your hips up to his, feeling so much pleasure as he filled you up completely. You laid your head back, breathing deeply as he started with a few slow pumps into you, your walls already clenching themselves around his cock.
“I don’t think I’ve ever had a pussy this goddamn tight, darlin’.” He growled, bucking his hips against you, forcing himself deeper in, causing to to cry out. Your nails sinking further into his skin. He was going to have a few marks of his own after you were finished. He squeezed your neck, creating a delightful sensation as he started to grind himself in and out of you vigorously, the sound of wet skin smacking against each other accompanied with your moans. You bit down on your lip quickly, remembering Olivia upstairs.
“She’s gonna hear us.” You squeaked as he continued ramming himself into you, grunting into your ear.
“You’re just gonna have to be fuckin’ quiet, baby.” He said seductively, putting his other hand over your mouth to keep you quiet.
He slammed his hips into you violently, making you cry out, your voice soften by the cover of his hand as his cock hit the back of your walls. He kept it up for a while, your legs seeming to wrap around him tighter with each thrust, his cock now completely slick with your wetness as he slide in and out with ease. You were glad that his hand was covering your mouth, your moans became louder and more frequent as he had his way with you. You finally released the grip you had on him, a thought coming to your mind.
“Take me from behind. Fuck me hard.” You begged him, turning your body slightly.
He widened his eyes, smiling and he bit your lip, “Turn the fuck over, sweetheart.”
You gave him a nod, turning yourself over on the cot as you bent yourself down as far as you could, sticking your backside into the air for him. You felt a hard slap on your ass, forcing you to jerk away from him, but also wanting him to keep it up. He placed his hands on your ass, pulling you back against him as he slid into you with ease again, he gave your ass another had slap, making you moan again. You clamped a hand over your mouth, realizing the moan was louder than it should have been. He brought his hand down as he thrust into you, holding your own hand against your mouth.
“Easy, babydoll. You don’t wanna get us fuckin’ caught do you?” He smirked, slamming his hips into you again. The pleasure overtaking you, causing you to collapse into the cot as you shook your head.
You finally lifted your head back up, wanting to take some control of your own as you pushed yourself back into him, causing him to slip out of you. You turned around to face him as he stood there, looking at you confused for a moment. You narrowed your eyes at him.
“I wanna ride you.” You said bluntly, clenching your legs together as you were still feeling aftershocks of pleasure.
“Goddamn, you’re full of surprises, aren’t you, darlin’?” He smirked as he sat down, leaning back into the wall, stroking himself as you crawled to him, throwing your legs at his side as you lowered yourself down onto his cock. You gritted your teeth, making sure to keep your voice down as much as you could. You rocked your hips against his, just like you had done on the chair. You could feel his cock throbbing inside of you, only making you more eager to ride him. His hands cupped around your breasts, giving them a generous squeeze as he brought his mouth down to let his tongue swirl around your nipples. You buried your face in his neck to dull your moans. He smelled amazing and you kissed his neck, sucking the skin as he tugged at your nipple with his teeth. You bucked your hips hard against him. He moved his hands down to your hips to guide your rhythm how he wanted, still managing to maintain control even with you on top. You were starting to come to your peak, you could feel the build up of the orgasm and you already knew that it was going to be intense. You continued to thrust your hips against his, his cock slid in and out of you. You slammed yourself down onto it, causing a loud grunt to escape Negan’s lips as he clenched his jaw, giving you a dangerous stare. He continued to slam you down into his hips, only bringing you closer and closer to the edge until you were spilling over it.
“Shit, I gonna come!” You cried as you felt your walls grip around him even tighter than they had before, you could feel how wet you were making his dick as you climaxed. You buried your head further into his neck as you couldn’t help but scream, luckily it was muffled against his skin.
“That’s it, darlin’, fuckin’ come for me.” He groaned as you continued to ride him throughout your orgasm, desperately wanting him to finish with you. His grunts were becoming louder as he went into an animalistic state, forcing you down as hard as he could onto his cock.
“Motherfucker.” He growled, his fingers gripping around your waist tightly. You breathed heavily as you kept up your pace, but knowing you were already spent.
“Negan.” You moaned back in his ear.
He bucked his hips against yours for a few more times and you knew he was close. He kissed you hard on the mouth, his tongue forcing it’s way in.
He gave one last groan before he pulled you up roughly off of him, “Fuck, darlin’.” He threw you down onto the cot, quickly lifted himself above you as he stroked his cock a few times before you felt the warmth of the spurts as he came on your chest and abdomen, stroking himself dry. You let out a breath as a leaned down to you, both arms outstretched to hold his weight above you as he kissed you roughly once more. You both took a minute to catch your breathe and gather your thoughts. That had really just happened, and you were more satisfied than you had been in a long time. Negan lifted himself up off the cot as he pulled his pants back up. You sat up slowly on the edge of the cot, looking around for something to clean yourself up with, and before you could get up, he was handing you a rag and your clothes.
You scoffed as you took them, “Trying to get rid of me that quick?”
He rolled his eyes, “Fuck no, darlin’. I’d let you fuckin’ stay, but our dear Olivia is probably getting fuckin’ suspicious.”
You sighed as you wiped off your body, “Yeah, you’re probably right.” After you were cleaned up, you put your clothes on quickly as you got up to gather your things. Negan leaned against the bars of the cell, a satisfied grin on his face.
“Please fuckin’ tell me I’m gonna see if if you again, darlin’.” He said, sticking his arms through the bars again.
You looks back at him and smiled as you stuffed the razor back into your pocket and picked up the bucket of now cold water, “I have a feeling that I’ll be trading jobs with Olivia. If she’s not gonna reap the benefits of it, then I will.” You bit your lip as you closed the door to the cell, turning the key to lock it and stuffed the key back down into your pocket quickly, “It’s just a damn shame I have to lock you back up.”
“They couldn’t fuckin’ handle it if I was on the loose, baby.” He said, giving you a wicked smirk.
You blushed, looking at the ground momentarily, before you gave him a flirty look, “You really are an animal, Negan.”
“I’m a man of my fuckin’ word.” He shrugged, giving you an ‘I told you so’ look.
You nodded, “Well, as a man of your word, how about don’t mention to Rick I was down here when you see him? He’d probably put me off the job.”
He inhaled and ran his tongue over his lips, “Usually I’d fuckin’ say no. I get real fuckin’ pleasure from making Rick’s life difficult, but for that amazing pussy you just gave me - that I definitely want again - my lips are sealed, darlin’.”
“Good.” You smiled. You started to walk forward, but his outstretched arm caught you quickly. You looked over at him, “What?”
“You forgetting something?” He smiled as he pulled you to him to kiss you hard one last time through the bars. He pulled back to look down at you, “By the way, I’m fuckin’ keeping these.” He said as he reached down into his pocket, pulling his arm back up to show you your balled up panties in his hand.
You giggled, your face turning red, “They’re all yours, Negan. Keep it as a souvenir.”
“I’m thinking you fuckin’ sneak down here tomorrow, babydoll.”
You looked up at him one more time, a mischievous look on your face, “I had planned on it.”
He gave you an approving nod as you both kissed once more. He reluctantly let you go, and watched you walk back up that rickety staircase until you were completely out of his sight.
Do you know that feeling when you want to be close to someone? When you want to hold their hand or sit next to them. To cuddle and watch a movie, or talk about your thoughts for hours. When you just want to be close but not in a sexual or romantic way. You don’t see yourself wanting to date or kiss them. Being around them, it’s enough. You just want to have their attention.
Okay, so after reading @sir-scandalous ‘s Abuse AU (or something like that, I believe?) I have feelings and thought god dammit, so lets get down to it. I’ve mixed it with an AU I’ve been drafting for a fic as well, which is Mute!Lance/Highschooler!Lance and Cafe owner!Shiro. (Lance is 17, Shiro is 19)
Lance has an abusive father with anger issues, and at the age of 9, Lance suffered severe damage to his vocal chords after a bad bout with his father strangling him. So he is no longer able to talk, which makes it even worse for him because he can no longer voice for help when he needs to, which his father fully knows and abuses this fact.
Lance is taking the long way hope one day, wanting as much alone time to himself before facing whats at home, and he discovers a new cafe opened just several blocks away from his neighborhood. The big banner over it reading The Noir Lion, and the smell of freshly baked blueberry muffins made his stomach growl painfully.So, he decides to head in and take a seat at a semi closed off booth area.
Because his other employees are busy cooking and tending to others, Shiro himself dusts himself off and grabs a black waiter apron to wrap around his waist to go and get Lance’s order. He asks the usual way and waits for an answer, to which Lance starts to get nervous and anxious over because damn, it was too crowded today and this handsome gentleman was expecting an answer and oh damn, his phone almost slipped from his fingers. Good job. Shiro notices the boys growing anxiety and holds out a hand, telling him to take it easy and go slow, with whatever he was doing. Lance nodded, smiling small, and took a deep breath, before typing out his reply on his phones notepad.
Shiro wondered why the boy couldn’t talk, but he wouldn’t pry, instead giving him a nod and gentle smile before going to get Lance a muffin and a cup of coco on the house because the boy looked so sad and stressed. So when Lance is about to leave he tries to pay for the coco too, but Shiro refuses it and tells him to come back anytime. Later on when Shiro goes to clean the table, he sees ten dollars, to which he simply pockets to save and give back.
This continues on for a whole month, Shiro learning of Lance’s inability to speak, and always saving Lance’s money he leaves behind rather then putting it in the register. Lance starts developing a crush on Shiro after two months and starting to actually flirt with gestures, brush of finger tips and cheesy as hell pick up lines on his phone. Shiro always makes time to sit with Lances on each of his visits now, and even invites him to a private back room where the employees go for lunch, when Lances come in overly stressed, breathing hard or crying. Lances never outright admits his abusive household, but Shiro already has strong suspicions, but doesn’t force anything yet.
Just imagine Lance, instead of going home right away, he goes to Shiro’s cafe and shows him his progress in grades and trophies in swimming and track competitions, and Shiro always smiling brightly and occasionally giving Lance a hug when the boy was ready for such contact.
Then imagine Lance’s father finding out where Lance has been going and getting upset at not knowing, so he goes over one time and publicly humiliates Lance in front of a half filled cafe and Shiro, but Shiro is having none of that and despite Lance’s dad being somewhat bigger than him, Shiro is still hella strong enough to grab the man by the arm and manhandle him out of there and away from Lance, defending his dignity all the while. Lance is in tears for both Shiro defending him and because he was now scared to go home. Shiro invites Lance to stay the night at his place, and until closing time teaches Lance how to make buttercream roses on cakes and how to make his favorite blueberry muffin as distraction.
The first year was absolutely unbearable. Every time I saw or heard your name, I fell apart. I couldn’t listen to music without my throat swelling up. The aching pain in my heart was constant. Everything reminded me of you. I thought drinking heavily with my anti-anxiety medication would help me cope. It didn’t. I don’t remember much. It was all a blur of careless laughter followed by intense moments of sobbing and self-harm.
The second year, it started getting slightly better. I taught myself how to play our favorite song even though I knew you’d never hear me play it. I quit using anti-anxiety meds and hard liquor. I still had days when I refused to believe I would never see or touch you again, but I was starting to grow accustomed to letting go. I had a lot of dreams about you. They began turning into nightmares as my brain finally allowed itself to process and accept how toxic we were for each other in the end.
The third year, I still have dreams about you. I forget most of them, but the ones I remember make me think and dream about you for a week straight. I’ll think of an inside joke sometimes and just laugh while shaking my head. I don’t feel like dying anymore when I hear your name, our songs, or when I see our favorite movies on TV. I still wish you a happy birthday even though you’ll never hear it or realize I even remembered or cared.
I’m finally accepting you’ll always be a part of me, so I’d better stop hurting myself over it and move on.
How to Motivate Yourself When You Just Don’t Feel Like it
I was feeling particularly unmotivated lately—unwilling to
take my own advice, tired from work and cleaning at home, and wanting to use my
weekend simply to relax. So, I decided to do Camp NaNoWriMo the night before it
started. Now we are on day #2 and I’m hoping I can keep up with my daily goals.
I’m sure a lot of you are in the same boat OR you just want
to get back into writing full-force. Here
are a few ways to motivate yourself when you’re just not feeling it:
Why did you
originally start writing?
Ask yourself what you like about writing a novel. I used to
turn to writing as a form of relaxation, so I need to remind myself of that
from time to time. It’s exciting to get lost in your own world and it’s good to
put other responsibilities aside for an hour or two. Try to rediscover your
love of writing or remind yourself why it makes you so happy. Keep it fun!
What are your goals?
I know my goal is to finish this novel by the end of the
month (first draft). I try to visualize myself at the end of the month sitting
on top of something I can be proud of. I know it will need a lot of work, but I’ll
have something I can mess with. I’ll have some fully formed ideas. I try to
keep that in mind when I become unmotivated. I want to finish this story and I
want to have another novel under my belt. Try to remind yourself of your goals.
You can always move
on to something else
If you’re not feeling your story and you’ve been at it for a
long time, you don’t have to continue! A lot of people don’t have that option
when working on a NaNoWriMo project, but you do have the option to take your
story in a new direction. Don’t get stuck on a scene that’s not exciting for
you, move on to something else.
Figure out why you’re
not excited about your story
Most of the time, I realize that I haven’t fleshed out a
scene enough OR I’m just not interested in writing that scene at all. There
will be highs and lows in your novel, but you should be excited about almost
all of the scenes you write. If you’re not, your readers won’t be either.
Pinpoint why a particular scene or character, etc. is not motivating you in any
way and try to find a way to fix it. Change the setting or consider cutting a
Dream cast your novel
This has helped me immensely with my new project. Before
Camp NaNoWriMo started, I casted each character in my head and that’s helped me
flesh out a lot of my story so far. It might sound like a silly idea, but it
can really help you visualize scenes in a clearer way.
Summary: You were already having a bad day, and then in walks Mr. Perfect and his best friend’s puppy. Oh, and he needs you to hurry because he’s got a blind date tonight, and he’s really nervous.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word Count: 2,993
Author’s Note: Do you know how long this has been in my drafts? Anyways, here’s more fluff. Sorry I’ve been the Ebeneezer Scrooge of fluff, but I can’t help it that I’m a cynical, angsty bitch who likes to make people suffer.
There were certain rules to being a veterinary technician.
Number one, waterproof mascara and eyeliner always! When the customer cries, you cry. Number two, carry a lint roller on you at all times; it’s best to get the pocket-sized one, because Mr. Twinkles sheds a lot! Number three, iron your scrubs! And it’s probably best to keep an extra pair in your car, because Mrs. Comier’s Jack Russell likes to pee on people.
Even though you knew these rules by heart, and you followed them every single day of your work-life, today was an exception. It was just one of those days that absolutely nothing- no matter how hard you tried- was going right. You were covered in fluffy cat hairs, Mrs. Comier’s Jack Russell peed on your leg twice, and you had run out of waterproof mascara; so when Mr. Langley brought in his thirteen year old Labrador to put her down, he cried, and so you cried, and in the end you looked like the raccoon that liked to sneak into the office dumpsters at closing.
Yes, friends, this au is 100% what you’re thinking. FLEXIBLE AF LANCE AND THIRSTY AF SHIRO
Starting with a bit of angst. Shiro is an ex marine (I will NEVER let go of this hc in my modern aus deal with it), who lost his hand (hand. not entire arm. just the hand) in battle. This au isn’t far in the future, so there are no fancy advanced prosthetics. The healing process was long and painful, not to mention extremely emotionally and mentally taxing.
Once he he’s actually healthy enough, both mentally and physically, to have enough energy for things other than treatment, the first thing he wants to do is to try and build more muscle mass, like he used to have. He liked being buff, and he still is, but less than he used to be. Both he and his therapist think it’ll be good for strengthening his positive body image, too.
Shiro asks his doctor (Allura) what form of exercise can she recommend at this stage, and she says Yoga. He’s skeptical at first, but what can he already lose if he goes to one session, right?
The hospital actually holds a class for patients, and Allura said the instructor is well experienced with amputees (amongst other conditions).
Shiro’s brain for the entire first minute upon meeting Lance: OH NO HE’S HOT THIS WAS A MISTAKE
No backing out tho he’s already been spotted and Lance is questioning him about his exact conditions so he can know best what he can safely instruct him to do and what he can’t.
Shiro’s brain continues to die the entire time, but he manages some answers anyway. Finally, Lance has enough, plus the rest of the group arrives and the session starts.
Lance tells them to close their eyes, but whenever Shiro does, he the only thing he has left to focus on is Lance’s voice (which is the point) and he gets super flustered because it’s so smooth? and pleasant? and kinda sexy?? and he can’t help but want that voice to whisper to him sensually and- NOPE, gotta open his eyes.
The rest of the class is a little harder, for two major reasons.
For once, the exercises are actually more demanding than he expected. He always thought he was pretty stretchy, but heavens, is a human body even supposed to bend this far?
Which brings us to the next difficulty. Lance’s body is more than capable of bending that far, and it’s driving him insane.
Despite how stressful it was trying not to stare at his ass too much and generally not turn into a tomato, the session was actually… really great. Shiro feels better when he walks out, more relaxed somehow, even though his heart still speeds up when he remembers Lance doing that one pose.
Lance asks him to hang back for a moment to talk to him and Shiro is all Oh No He Noticed Me Staring but nope. Lance just wanted to ask how he feels and if anything made his arm hurt really bad etc. He also excessively complimented his natural flexibility, saying he’ll be able to do “all sorts of things” soon enough. Shiro is really unsure, but it almost seems like Lance smirked while saying that? Nah, he must be just imagining things because of his developing crush.
The next few sessions aren’t very different. Supposedly, anyway. After basing his level and current capabilities, Lance decided that Shiro could use more personal guidance, including LOTS of touching to correct his pose. Lance, being a professional, always asks for permission to touch him first, which somehow only makes it that much worse, because Shiro wants Lance to touch him. So so bad. Shiro is literally dying. These pants are tight and they will not hide a boner. He’s suffering. Someone help him.
There’s no help, and Poor Shiro has to constantly deal with gentle touches and low purrs because god forbid anyone makes a loud noise in the middle of yoga class. It goes on for a couple of weeks until one day he gets a most peculiar text from Lance.
(They exchanged numbers because Shiro wanted to add a third yoga session to his weekly schedule but the hospital only held the classes twice a week, and Lance gives him his number in case he has any questions. Of course, barely any Yoga advice was exchanged. )
Lance’s text: Uggghhh I can’t do this anymore! Allura, I know he’s your patient and all and he’s “”“"healing”“”“ and stuff but I can’t hold back anymore I just can’t. He’s too hot. I know I promised to hold back BUT THIS IS IT I’M ASKING HIM OUT
Shaking, Shiro texts back, asking who Lance is talking about.
Lance doesn’t text back for like half an hour and Shiro starts seriously freaking out when he gets a long ass text from Lance, where he apologizes for being so unprofessional and confessing his crush etc.
Shiro could almost cry from relief, because a few minutes ago he thought he might’ve lost all chances with Lance but now… He has more than a slight chance. He calls Lance and confesses his own crush and they both laugh and maybe it’s a little awkward because what do you even say in a situation like this but eventually they manage to schedule a date.
They take it slow, let things develop naturally. Lance gives Shiro all the time and space he needs, since it’s the first time he’s tried dating since he lost his hand. Takes a little trial and error, but one day, a few months later, Shiro finds out just how far Lance can bend.
“I made the decision to spend time on my own and figure out who I am. When you take the other person out of the scenario and you’re walking through life on your own, you end up figuring out what you actually like without anyone else’s input. I’m not too worried about whether I meet someone. I’m going to be happy either way."
This is the first draft, I might so a full rewrite of it eventually and post it on AO3, but for now have some Ironhawk fluffiness.
Tony Stark was a genius
practically from birth, put in the spotlight by both association and skill.
Nobody was surprised when the rich boy started sleeping around with college
kids years older than he was.
Tony remembers being 4
years old, circuit board grasped in tiny fingers. He remembers his father’s arm
around his shoulder.
He remembers being 6 an
engine on the counter, and his father’s hand on his shoulder, a smile on his
face. He remembers Jarvis, and a lot of hugs.
Then he remembers
boarding school. Remembers kids’ years older than him who only ever reached out
to remind him that he was weakest among them. He remembers teachers who sneered
when he corrected them.
He remembers Christmas
break and the first hug he’d had in months. He remembers every Christmas break
after that and the warmth of Jarvis arms.
He remembers Obie’s hand
on his shoulder the day his parents died. He remembers thinking that he would
never get a hug from Jarvis again.
He remembers having sex
for the first time, he didn’t know her name, heck he barely knew his own name.
But he remembered the feel of her skin against his.
He remembers the day he
realized people only touched him when they wanted something. With women it was
either sex or money, with Obie it was new weapons, and more professional
behavior. He remembers realizing that he didn’t particularly care what they
wanted if he got even a second of contact.
He remembers the day he
realized that Rhodey didn’t hug him with intent. He remembers the day Rhodey
shipped out for the first time.
He remembers a string of
one night stands and the feeling of flesh on flesh. The feeling of warmth.
He remembers the day he
returned from Afghanistan and realized that with the open vulnerability sitting
in his chest sex wasn’t an option anymore.
He remembers dancing
with Pepper. Remembers holding her in his arms. He remembers letting her go
when she asked him to.
He remembers killing
Obie, remembers knowing the man had tried to kill him. He remembers mourning
the side hugs, and encouraging pats on the shoulder.
He remembers the day the
Avengers agreed to move in.
are all of their rooms ready? The passive surveillance is all set up so they
don’t get uncomfortable? And Steve’s is all retro? Natasha has the memory foam
bed right? She said she liked memory foam. Do you think they’ll like it?”
Tony babbles, he hasn’t slept in three days, ever since they agreed to move in.
He had to get everything ready.
“Of course, Sir.
All of that has been completed. I am sure they will love it.” Jarvis
assures him. Tony nods, trying to settle, hands flying up to fix the mess his
hair has become. “Good, good, do I need to shave? I should shave.” He
heads for the elevator, fingers tracing over the messy ages of his beard.
“Sir, this is not a
date I do not believe shaving is necessary.” Jarvis cuts in, halting Tony
on his path to the elevator. “Also, your guests are here.”
Jarvis why didn’t you tell me? Take me down to the lobby to get them.” He
spends the elevator ride trying to fix his hair, it doesn’t seem to have done
“Hello Mr. Stark,
thank you for inviting us.” Steve says, hefting his duffle bag up on his
“It’s no problem,
and please Cap, call me Tony.” He says, gesturing for them to board the
“Still, nice of you
to open your home to us.” Natasha says, smiling at him. Her eyes are
searching though. Most likely for a motive.
“It’s not just my
home now, it’s yours too.” He says, shrugging. Natasha elbows Clint in the
least subtle way possible, and Tony watches, mildly impressed as he manages to
keep hold of his boxes.
“Oh yeah, thanks
dude.” Clint says, peeking out from behind a stack of boxes with Natasha’s
careful script on them. “Okay, Natasha, you’re on floor 74. Clint you get
75, they do connect at multiple points and you can feel free to share
space.” Tony says, hitting the necessary buttons and gesturing to the eye
scanner. “Steve, you’re on 76, and I’m saving 77 for your friend.”
“Tony, we don’t
need whole floors.” Steve protests. Looking at his duffle bag Tony
suspects that is true, he’ll need to buy the man some clothes and things.
“Speak for yourself Rogers.” Clint says, elbowing the super
soldier in the side. It probably hurt his elbow more than it did Steve, but it
gets his point across. Tony elects to ignore both of them.
“Brucie-bear, you have 78, although the hulk room expands
into 79. I put your lab on your floor because I figured it would be more
“Thor gets 79, since he’ll be here the least he shouldn’t
mind the loss of space. Common areas are on floor 80, and the penthouse is
obviously mine. 81 through 84 are set up for Sam Wilson, guests, more guests,
and Rhodey respectively.” Tony explains. “If you need anything from Jarvis you
will have to enter the elevator or a common area, as I have set your rooms to
passive surveillance only to avoid any discomfort you may feel.” The elevator
stops and the doors slide open to reveal Natasha’s floor.
“No Jarvis beyond this point, but there is a top of the line
security system so please try not to break any windows.” Tony says, stepping
aside, Clint gets off the elevator while Natasha picks up her own stack of
boxes and follows him.
It takes an hour to get everyone settled in. Steve thanks
him profusely, and talks about how his floor is too much. Bruce thanks him
quietly and disappears into his rooms. Natasha calls him kitten in Russian and
smiles at him before disappearing into her rooms with a comment about dress
“Stark!” Clint is bouncing on the balls of his feet when
Tony knocks on his door to check on him. “Stark! You built me an archery range
on my floor? You are the absolute best!” For a moment, it looks like he’s going
to hug him, and then there’s a warm weight of Clint’s hand on his shoulder for
half a second. “God, I am never leaving this tower.”
“Glad you like it.” Tony says, trying to ignore how warm his
shoulder feels. Trying to ignore how his heart is beating against his ribs.
It’s been almost three months since he’s seen Rhodey, and therefore three months
since someone has touched him in a friendly way. It feels better than flying in
the suit ever does.
He’s not surprised with the lack of physical contact from
the others. They were busy moving in, and he knows they all have their own
hang-ups. It’s really not a big deal. He’s working on new armor for Steve now
anyways, so maybe he can get a hug or something after.
“Stop kidding yourself Stark.” He grumbles, glaring at his
reflection in the mirror. There are dark circles under his eyes, it’s probably
time he actually gets some sleep. “They won’t want you. Not a team player,
remember? Fucking talking to yourself in the bathroom mirror, no wonder you
only have three friends.” He sleeps until well into the next afternoon, and
then disappears into his lab.
“Sir, Captain Rogers is asking for you. He says the team
wants to do dinner tonight in the common room.” Jarvis informs him.
“They want me to come?” He asks, there’s no one here but
Jarvis and still the caution creeps into his voice. He can’t help but hide hope
behind an air of nonchalance.
“Of course, Sir.” Jarvis says. Steve had asked him to tell
Tony to come, they clearly wanted him there.
“Tell Cap I’ll be there.” He says, hiding a smile in his work.
He goes to team dinner, and the next one, and training. He
tries to live off of awkward brushes of hands, and sharp kicks for practice. He
reminds himself that just because they are here, doesn’t mean they’ll like him.
They don’t owe him hugs.
Tony was fine, really. Completely, and totally fine.
He finishes the first round of upgrade and eagerly calls
them to the lab.
“I made things!” He says, a new quiver clutched in his
hands. He’s practically vibrating with excitement, hugs are a relatively normal
part of gratitude he could get a hug.
“Is that a quiver?” Clint asks, Tony hits the button on the
side there’s a noise as the arrow head is attached. “Shit automated, what a
beaut.” Tony blushes, handing it over. Clint snatches up his bow, practically
running for the range. No hug. Tony turns to Natasha.
“Upgraded widow bites with stun, knock out, kill, and Thor
settings.” He offers, holding them out to her, she grins at him, taking them
from his hands.
“Thanks Stark.” She winks at him as she stalks out of the
room. “These will be so useful.” She doesn’t hug him on the way out.
“Steve, new body armor. Less ab plating more protection.” He
explains, holding up the new and improved suit. “Also, less zippers, that look
was so nineties Steve you don’t understand.” Steve smiles at him.
“No, I don’t, but I appreciate the new suit all the same.”
He says, Tony beams at him. Steve claps a hand on his shoulder as he leaves.
Tony tries to pretend the warmth is enough. Revels in the feeling from that
small touch. It’s not enough, maybe if he makes them more gear.
“You look tired Tones, maybe you should get some rest, you
can show me Hulk’s gift tomorrow.” Bruce offers, he’s so kind. If Tony looked
bad enough he might help him to bed, hold onto him. It would be nice.
“Yeah, I’m going to go to bed.” He mumbles, the pattern continues.
Tony remains cold, and untouched. They
fight bad guys, they eat dinner, and nobody hugs Tony.
The suit was gone, ripped off in the battle. He was beaten
up, a little bloody but still standing when the witch landed in front of him,
lobbing a ball of what he presumed was magic at his chest.
“Let’s see how the world likes you when your deepest desires
spill from your lips. How will they feel knowing how perverted you are?” They
asked, Tony’s jaw ticks as he clenches it shut. The witch disappears.
“Your darkest desire, huh Stark?” Clint teases. “Can’t be
too bad. Want to sleep with a man? Want to kill someone on the team? Want to
kill one of the villains we fight?” Tony’s vibrating with frustration,
desperately trying to remain silent.
“Clint, stop.” Natasha scolds. “Your desires aren’t you as a
person, no matter how dark we won’t blame you.” She assures him, standing on
the rubble strewn street. Tony turns wide eyes to Steve and Bruce.
“We won’t.” They assure him. He relaxes his shoulders
slightly, his mouth parting against his will.
“I want a hug. Please, I just, I just want a hug.” He begs,
face flushing with embarrassment. It’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
Tony’s head drops, eyes tearing up. “I understand. I know it’s weak, I’m
“A freaking hug is your darkest desire?” Clint blurts out,
taking a step towards him. Tony nods miserably. “A goddamn hug? How are you so
good?” Tony finds himself wrapped in strong arms a moment later. “A goddamn
hug.” Clint grumbles.
“I know it’s weak, and stupid. I’m sorry.” Tony whispers, he
knows he should pull back, but he lets himself slump against Clint’s shoulder.
Let’s himself be held.
“Shut up. You’re goddamn perfect. Your darkest desire is a
hug Tony. That’s so ridiculously pleasant.” Clint grumbles, nuzzling into
“It’s so dumb, you guys don’t owe me anything, I can’t
expect hugs. I shouldn’t have. Got my hopes up, cause I’m dumb.” Tony mumbles,
hands clenched in the back of Clint’s shirt. “You can let go now, I won’t be a
“Nope, we’re going back to the tower, and cuddling.” He’s
surprised the others haven’t gotten over their shock and come to join the hug
yet. “God, how did I not know you wanted hugs, I could have offered non-stop
cuddles.” Clint laments. Natasha seems to have gotten over her shock, and she
practically sprints over, leaping at them. Tony flinches just before she makes
contact wrapping them both in a hug.
“Do not be afraid.” She grumbles. He doesn’t look at her,
face still buried in Clint’s shoulder.
“I shouldn’t have assumed you’d want to hug me. Shouldn’t
have asked. Don’t deserve it.” Tony mumbles. “Can’t expect hugs as payment. No
buying people’s love.” The words come out like a mantra. She whacks the back of
“You assumed I wouldn’t want to hug you idiot, not that I
would. There is no harm in asking.” She scolds. Clint nods, puffing a breath of
air into Tony’s hair.
“Didn’t want any of you to feel obligated.” He mumbles.
Clint’s grip tightens, and he feels Steve and Bruce joining the fray, a warm
line of skin across his shoulders and lower back.
“No, Tony. We don’t feel obligated.” Clint assures him.
“Just guilty that we missed out on giving you something you need.”
“Don’t need hugs, I’m fine.” Tony grumbles, but he still
hasn’t made any move to pull away.
“Shut up.” Natasha grumbles, Bruce nods in agreement, half
asleep from the Hulk out. “You need hugs. Don’t worry, we’re happy to provide.”
She steps on Steve’s foot when he doesn’t say anything in agreement.
“Of course, Tony, you’re our teammate, and our friend.”
Steve says, pulling back slightly. The hug starts to pull apart then, leaving
only Clint with Tony wrapped around him like a koala.
“I should let go now.” Tony mumbles, releasing his grip on
Clint’s shirt. Clint frowns, they need to get back to the tower, but how to
best do that without letting go, he slides his hand around Tony’s waist, hand
resting on his hip.
“This okay?” He asks, squeezing gently. Tony nods with such
ferocity Clint worries he’ll get whiplash. “Good, let’s get you home for some
more cuddles.” Tony nods agreeably.
“Thanks Clint.” He mumbles. “You’re my favorite.” He’s not
sure Clint heard, words buried in the archer’s shoulder. The walk home is warm,
pleasant, and absolutely terrifying.
They’re almost to the tower before the panic starts to set
in, fears arising that this was all just a show, and that once they get inside
he’ll be back to feeling cold and alone in a crowded house. Even if it wasn’t a
show, he’s clingy, he knows it. They’ll get sick of him.
“To the couch.” Clint announces, pushing Tony down on the
cushions, and lying on top of him. The panic recedes. He’s warm, he’s safe he
can enjoy this.
Tony is worried that they’ll get tired of how clingy he is,
so he has a plan. He gets one hour with them every day and then he needs to
either work or sleep. As long as he leaves the room before they get tired of
him. It’s a good plan.
“Tony, won’t you hang out for a movie after breakfast?”
Clint asks, sliding an arm around his shoulder. Movies are normally at least 2
hours long, which puts him over the hour limit on snuggle time.
“I’d love to.” He admits, “But, I need to work on the suit.”
He leans into Clint’s grasp anyways. “I really should work.”
“Yeah.” Clint says. “You can do that after we watch a movie
though, right?” Watching movies and cuddling is normal, so maybe he can do two
hours a day, and it will be okay.
“Right.” Tony agrees. “I can do that.” Clint might not even
want to cuddle anyways. Which would mean it wouldn’t count as part of his hour,
it only counts if there’s cuddling, right?
“Awesome, I could use a couple hours of snuggling.” Clint
cheers, dragging Tony into the den. Well, if it’s Clint’s idea then he can’t
accuse Tony of being clingy right. “You’re so warm, perfect for snuggling.”
Tony nods absently.
“You sure?” Tony asks.
He doesn’t make it back to the lab after the movie, Clint
slides in another disc and they stay curled up on the couch for hours. As much
as Tony wants to say no, wants to make sure Clint doesn’t get tired of his
clinginess, he can’t. He can’t say no, not when Clint’s arms are warm around
him. He just holds on, waiting for the touching to die down.
He spends months waiting for Natasha to stop hugging him
every time she sees him, or Steve to stop awkwardly hugging him when he makes
new things. He waits for Bruce to stop inviting him to yoga, and helping him
with positions. He waits for Thor to stop greeting him with tight hugs that
lift his feet off the ground. He waits for Clint to stop inviting him to
He waits for months until he realizes he’s not waiting
anymore. He waits until he realizes they aren’t going anywhere.
I just want to take a moment and talk about how much I love Victor Nikiforov and how he’s just such a refreshing character. I know everyone and their dog has done a post like this already but I’ve been crying over this lovable goof for months and this had been sitting in my drafts for too long now anyway and also I’m avoiding my textbooks AND THIS SORTA TURNED INTO A CHARACTER ANALYSIS I’M SORRY.
So as far back as the PV, there were assumptions flying around that Victor would end up being an antagonist of some sort. That either he was using Yuuri for his own gain, or was just straight up evil. Laughable now, of course, but the reason those rumors were prevalent was because we see it so often. How easy was it to think that Victor was “helping” Yuuri only to further his own goals in the end? We’ve seen this common mentor-betrays-student trope before and it’s no wonder that early on fans were afraid of this even as the show progressed. And honestly? This would have made for some great drama—for Victor to turn out to not be such a nice guy and for him to eventually become someone Yuuri had to defeat in competition. However the show did not go down that route at all. It turns out that yeah, Victor is actually just a really nice guy who cares a great deal about Yuuri and the people around him. He doesn’t show up in Hasetsu with any evil ulterior motives—he just wants to get to know Yuuri and help him take his skating to the next level, and maybe find inspiration (and love) along the way.
Also how could a man with a heart-shaped smile be evil???
Summary: Your’s and Bucky’s relationship is kept a secret, although it made the sex incredibly hot, not being able to hold your hand or taking you out on public dates took a toll on Bucky.
Warnings: angst, light smut (fingers and oral -reader receiving-)
A/N: I just really wanted to write a super angsty fic. I hope you enjoy it! Not my best fic but this has been sitting unfinished in my drafts for months now and I really wanted to finish it and get it out there. Not every fic is perfect and I accept that, I hope you guys do, too :)
The bass of the music shook the walls of the tower as people danced and drank, grinding on each other while swooning over the Avengers. Sam’s birthday party was in full swing and instead out enjoying the festivities you were stuck in your bedroom with Bucky. For once, you wished you were anywhere but there. You were having a fight.
Bucky had spent the first half of the party watching your entanglement with one of Sam’s friend, Alex. Bucky watched as the two of you danced, hugged, held hands, and occasionally snuggle on the couch. Bucky finally snapped when Alex dropped his head down and placed a tender kiss on your lips.
Summary: “You’re a big girl now, right Alexis? You should know that your grandpa Alex has something called Alzheimer’s. It means he forgets sometimes.”
Alex Summers and Sean Cassidy were out at a diner for lunch. The young men hadn’t seen each other in a while and decided to meet and catch up over their favorite greasy food. They got a booth next to a big window, and Sean reclined with a contented sigh. That boy could get comfortable anywhere.
“Hello and welcome to Sally’s Diner. I’m Y/N, what can I get you today?” Alex looked up at their waitress, his eyes trailing up from the skirt of her uniform to her face. She was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.
“Your number would be nice, sweetheart.” Sean said, not missing a beat. Alex shot a glare at his friend, throat tightening. He had no right to be mad at Sean, he had no claim to this gorgeous stranger. All the same, he was annoyed.
“Sorry sweet talker, I don’t give my number out until you’ve at least ordered. After that, we’ll see.” She glanced at Alex, giving him a sweet smile. His heart thumped faster.
Feb. 9 - Alternate Universe – Soulmate AU, 2.4K (everyone has their soulmate’s
first thought about them on their skin – both still in NHL - coda of sorts to Dot Your Ts and Cross Your Is)
“You’re in a good mood today,” Jack comments, as
slides in next to Tater in the nook.
“Mhm,” Tater hums and chews his sandwich. “I find soulmate,” he says, like he’s
commenting on the weather.
Snowy and Thirdy look up from their breakfast, and Marty nearly snorts out his
cereal. Guy pats him on the back a little harder than necessary.
“You found your soulmate, Tater?” Poots asks carefully. “Like, the one who said
‘You’re tall and hot, I want to die,’ that
Almost everyone’s seen that particular marking in the locker room, and though
no one actually voiced it, a large majority of the team had covered up their
jealousy with chirps. Who doesn’t want a confidence booster like that as a soulmark? Tater simply nods,
and Thirdy flies up, excited.