#not like fifty shade of gray type smut

[bakugosbratx]

NSFW 18+ The Assistant— AU Levi Ackerman x Fem! Reader

Warning: 18+ Content. Smut, degrading, cursing, punishment, dom levi, sub reader, bondage, bdsm, some angst, toxic relationship, spanking, cheating, etc.

Words: 3, 673

Check out my other works here

A/N: Me and my irl moot @idfkwtfgof came up with this idea so I decided to write it out. Enjoy this fifty shades of gray moment. I’ve been working on this for over a month 🙃 I’m sorry it took me forever.

Tags: @idfkwtfgof @awilddreamerwrites @peachsenpie

You take a deep breath as you approached the double doors in front of you. Your heart pounded against your rib cage. The silent hallways seemed to be echoing the thumps. Anyone in your position would be nervous too if they had to meet with the CEO of the Ackerman Industries. He was not one to enjoy much company nor request it. His gaze alone could intimidate the strongest of people and you are no different.

Fist resting on the wooden door in front of you, you hesitate, but close your eyes and knock anyway. You did not hear a response as you patiently wait. Instead, the door swings open to be met with the CEO himself, Levi Ackerman. Not a word was spoken, but he ushered you inside his huge office.

Scurrying, you slightly jump as you heard the huge door slam. You are in Levi’s office. Only businessmen and women are allowed in here. You feel not even worthy to be stepping on the same floor these successful people walk on. It could also be the fact that the office seemed spotless. For someone as busy as the CEO, he sure did know how to make a stack of papers seem neat in a stack.

“Sit.” Levi instructed as he strolled over to his desk chair and doing the said action. You looked around the room. Behind Levi is a wall of windows to overlook the city of New York. His desk his a beautiful dark brown that was so clean that you could see your reflection. Along with seeing your reflection, you can see —and feel— Levi starring at you. Meeting his silver orbs, you gulp.

“Do you know why I called you in here, Y/N?” Levi questioned, his tone remaining calm as always. Somehow, this intimidated you even more.

“No, sir, I don’t.” You admit. In all honesty, you are not sure why Levi called you into his office. He waited until almost everyone has gone home for the evening to set up this meeting. You have felt nauseous all day about it. Receiving an email from the CEO was enough to make anyone’s breath hitch, but to have a meeting — alone — with him is enough to make one soil themselves.

“I want to offer you a promotion,” Levi explained, his gaze hardening. “That is, if you want it?”

This is way better news than you expected. Levi has employees for a reason. He always calls the shots since it is his million dollar company, but why get his hands dirty when he can pay people to do it for him? Since no one is allowed in his office without special permission, this seemed a bit off.

“What does the job intel?”

“Well, my company is expanding even larger than anticipated this year. I need a personal assistant. Examining the work you have put in over the years, I decided you are cut out for the job. What do you say?”

You take a moment to contemplate his words. The offer is amazing and would definitely look great on your resume, but working so close to the CEO of the company is quite intimidating. Any bad habits you have developed better end swiftly or else it’s your job on the line. Levi is not afraid to terminate anyone not fit for the job.

“I’ll take it.” You smile, the words flowing out before you could even think any further.

“You start tomorrow. I expect you in my office 8am sharp. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re dismissed.”

Standing up, you straighten out your black pencil skirt and head your way towards the door. Levi’s eyes did not once leave your figure. The way you naturally sway your hips as you walk and the way the skirt hugged your hips just right. His eyes are enjoying the desires most men have yet when you turned to look over your shoulder, his eyes where focused on his paperwork.

You went home that night, excited to tell your significant other about your promotion. He did not even blink an eye in your direction. Instead, he is pissed that you are home later than normal.

“Babe—“

“Where the hell have you been?” He hissed.

“I-I was called into the CEO’s office. I got a promotion!” You stammered, nervous under your boyfriend’s glare. He always made you feel small and his anger tends to send you over the edge. This is one of those many times.

“Why would he have you in there this late? Do you think I’m really that fucking stupid?” He scoffed, shaking his head.

“Babe, I’m being serious. I would never lie to you.” You argued.

“And how do I know that?” He countered. “How am I certain that you aren’t cheating on me? Or even hurt? Are your damn thumbs broken, Y/N? Can’t keep me updated ‘bout what’s going on? I was worried sick about you.”

You let out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry, babe. I’ll do better.”

Your boyfriend walked over to you, embracing your body into a tight hug. You had so much more to say, but to prevent any further escalation of an argument, you apologized and kept your mouth shut.

The next morning arrived. You woke up extra early to have time to do your hair and makeup, dressed in your nicest attire, and wear the most expensive of jewelry. Since you are going to be around the CEO for now on, you cannot show up to work appearing sluggish. You gave yourself one last look in the mirror, your boyfriend leaning against the doorframe.

“Dressed quite nicely, huh?” He spoke, meeting your eyes through the mirror. You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat.

“I have to be.”

He stayed silent for a moment, his orbs tracing your figure. He hated when you showed confidence. It killed him inside and knowing that other men saw your beauty as well made his blood boil. He just has to ruin it.

“For the circus? Your makeup looks awful and your hair is tremendous.” He scoffed.

You bit your bottom lip. Tears welled in your eyes, but you prevented them from falling. You refuse to let him ruin your confidence. You are a strong woman and his insecurities shouldn’t be placed upon you. It is not your baggage to carry.

You meet his eyes again through the mirror. You feel your confidence crumble beneath you, but you remain strong. Turning around, you brush past him as you stroll out of the bathroom. You ignored him calling your name and demanding you to return. All he could do is watch as you left without even saying goodbye.

You arrived to the business earlier than expected. You have checked your hair and makeup more than once in the car review mirror. You are not necessarily even wanting Levi’s approval, — though he is quite handsome — you just want to look presentable. He is your boss, after all. He is not afraid to fire anyone on the spot. You are no exception.

Inhaling a sharp breath, you knock on Levi’s office door. You hear his approval to come inside and welcome yourself inside. You were not even receive a glance as you closed the door behind you. Levi’s gray orbs never left his monitor screen. You gulp nervously as you proceed towards his desk.

“I stopped to get some coffee. I brought you a tea,” you lay his cup on his desk, “just how you like it.”

He nods, still typing away. This did not help your anxiety at all. Is he regretting his decision making you his assistant? Are you disturbing him? Is he contemplating firing you? Your stomach turned at the thought.

The sound of the printer disturbed your nuisance thoughts. Levi grabbed the piece of paper and placed it on top of a neat stack. He stands up, finally looking at you.

“I have a meeting to attend to in an hour. I need these documents assorted in alphabetical order before then.”

Your eyes fall to the tall stack of papers. You definitely need more than an hour to get through them all. By Levi’s facial expression, you knew he was serious. Levi always looked serious.

“Yes, sir,” you grab the stack and meet his a gaze again, “I’ll get it done swiftly.”

“Good. I’m counting on you. Sit over there.” He orders, glancing at the couches and coffee table in the middle of his office. Maybe it is just your nerves, but his workspace seems bigger than remembered. This did not help your anxiety.

You began getting to work. You thought you are doing well on time, but time seemed to have passed you by. Levi is now towering over you, his unsatisfied silver orbs glaring down at you. You hesitate, but force yourself to meet them.

“Thought you said you would have this done?” Levi recalls.

“I-I’m really sorry, s-sir.” You stammered, expecting the worse.

“Sorry doesn’t sort the papers, Y/N.” He scolds, his silver eyes only being shown through slits.

“I—“

“We will discuss this after my meeting. Until then, I want my office spotless.” Levi continues, cutting you off. He begins walking towards the door and pauses once he reaches for the handle. “Oh and Y/N?”

You look up, meeting the CEO’s annoyed orbs. “Yes, sir?”

“You’re on strike one.” Levi warns. You did not even have a chance to ask questions as his office door slams shut behind him, leaving you alone to sulk in your thoughts.

You tidied up Levi’s office like he requested of you. Every paper went into its appropriate home, cushions are straightened out, rug is vacuumed, and you are currently dusting. This man is a clean freak by nature so there was not much to do. Still, your nerves were pulsating. This is only day one and you are not on Levi’s good side. You are becoming worrisome as your job is now potentially on the line.

The door opening made you jump. You can feel Levi’s silver orbs on you as you dust his bookshelf. He did not disturb you, though, as he proceeded towards his desk and went to work like nothing happened. Curiosity is begging you to speak, but you remain silent and complete your task.

You gather the cleaning supplies and place them back into the small closet. Returning on the guest side of Levi’s desk, he does not even look up from his monitor.

“I’m finished cleaning, sir.”

Levi did not say anything. Instead, he stood up and went to the window. His fingers grazed along the exterior which collected dust on the tips. He studied it for a moment. Your heart stopped as your breath hitched. You did not mean to forget the windows, but they look so clean already. They truly do not need much more cleaning.

“Seems like you missed a spot.” He remarks, turning to face you.

“I-I’m so sorry, sir. I thought—“

“Your cleaning is lamentable. Back to dusting. Now.” He demands, cleaning the dust off of his fingers with his handkerchief.

“Yes, sir.” You reply, gathering the cleaning supplies once again. You sprayed the windows and clean every inch of them until lunch time. Levi was sure to inspect your work before releasing you to go get something to eat.

“You’re dismissed.” He finally speaks. You are quick to collect your belongings leave his office. You stroll the long hallway to the elevator. You are finally alone with your thoughts and honestly, they were overwhelming. This job is very nerve racking and it’s only your first day. You are not making the best of impressions on your boss.

Digging in your purse, you check your cellphone. You have several missed calls and texts from your significant other. A pit in your stomach began to drown your appetite. You know this is going to cause a major fight between you two. A fight you did not want to participate in.

Reluctantly, you call your boyfriend back. He picks up on the second ring.

“Where the fuck have you been?” He hissed, sending chills down your spine. The elevator doors open and you head towards the cafeteria.

“Working. I can’t be on my phone while I’m—“

“So work is more important than me?” He interrupts.

“What? No. That’s not it at all.” You argued, picking up a bag of chips and a drink from the dispensers before checking out.

“Then answer my damn calls, Y/N!”

“I can’t when I’m at work!” You exclaimed. You hand the cashier money before mouthing the words ‘thank you.’ She gave you a worried look, but you disregarded it. This is not the first time that have heard a heated conversation between you and your boyfriend.

You go find an empty table to eat by yourself. The bickering between your boyfriend did not end on a good note as the other line went dead. You slammed your phone back into your purse and forced yourself to eat your chips. You did not even want them. Your relationship is falling through the cracks, you are failing at your job, and you are on the verge of losing what is left of your sanity.

Time really slipped away while you fumed in anger because you are now late to returning to Levi’s office. Tears prickled in your eyes. This is not good at all. Levi is going to be furious. Even possibly firing you.

You raced to his office. You did not even take the elevator as it will take far too long to get to his office. You are panting by the time you arrive and sweat droplets formed at the top of your forehead. Your hands began to shake as your hand rested on the handle. You need to go in there, but your body did not want to move. Your boyfriend is already pissed. You did not want to deal with your furious boss.

Sighing, you forced yourself to go inside. “I am so sorry.” You blurt out as you enter inside. Levi is giving you a disapproving look.

“Take a seat, Y/N. We need to have a talk.”

Following your boss’ orders, you sit in the chair parallel to his. You begin to tremble as you expect the worse. Levi’s glare does not help you feel any less uneasy either. His silver orbs are staring deep into your soul and making you feel small.

“You know you’re on strike three.” Levi begins. You gulp.

“I know, sir. I’m very sorry. I’ll accept any punishment you have in mind for me.” You sigh, trying to remain brave. Levi can see right through it, though. His gaze hardens and he makes his way around to your side of the desk. He folds his arms but does not remove his gaze from you once.

“What punishment do you think you deserve?” Levi ask, hoping you have the same answer in mind as him.

“I-I’m not sure. I’ll take anything. It’s what I deserve.” You admit, a flustered feeling coming across you. Levi studied your features, clicking his tongue.

“Bend over the desk.”

“What?” You whispered, not sure if you heard your boss correctly. He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. His intimidating glare pierced through you.

“Talking to that lame ass boyfriend of yours must have you goin deaf. I said bend over my desk.” Levi instructs, letting go of your chin once you catch his drift. You do as your told, bending over his desk. You are uncertain what he is planning to do, but the removal of your skirt gave you a pretty good idea. Your cheeks felt hot as your bare ass is now exposed to Levi’s viewing.

“Lace panties, huh? You planned on being put in this position later?” Levi chuckles, his digits playing with the strap of your thong. You bit your bottom lip, not knowing what to say. A hard smack to your bare ass caused you to release a moan.

“I asked you a question. It’s only polite to answer, brat.”

“Yes. It was for my boyfriend.” You confess in embarrassment for more reasons than one.

“Oh, I see. Your toxic little relationship is in need of fixing, but the only thing you have to offer is your pretty little pussy.” Levi analyzes, rubbing his hand on your ass before delivering another slap. You wince in pain, but you mentally screamed for more. You wanted Levi to continue spanking you.

“That’s not it, sir.” You mumbled. His hand landed down on your sore ass once more while the other hand finds refuge in your hair. He pulls it, tightly, bending your head back.

“What really gets me is this mouth of yours. I suggest you use it to tell the truth before I stuff it.” Levi growls lowly in your ear, letting go of your hair to return behind you.

Another slap was delivered. Little melodies of moans escaped your lips that you attempted to conceal. Levi did not comment on it as he proceed with the punishment. Your cunt dripped with your slick. It is begging to be touched, fucked, anything Levi desires really.

A few slaps and a very red ass later, Levi’s digits founder their way inside your soaked cunt. “Someone enjoyed themselves, hm?” He teased, curling his fingers in you. You shuffle a bit, enjoying the sensation he is giving you. The removal of his fingers made you whine in a needy tone.

“I did, Levi. Please fuck me.” You cry, wanting his cock already. He chuckled at your begging, his hand rubbing your red ass then hitting it again.

“On your knees. Now.” Levi demands. You happily oblige before him. He pats your head in approval. “Good girl. You do know how to listen.”

Levi begins unbuckling his black belt. You are practically foaming at the mouth as he slides the leather out of each loop. He sets it on the desk before proceeding to unbuckle his pants, releasing his hard cock for you to pleasure. Your eyes light up at the sight. The tip of his erection is at your lips, ready for you to move forward. Your tongue teases his sensitive head before you let each inch slide in-and-out of your saliva filled mouth.

“Yeah, like that, baby.” Levi praises as you deep throat his length. You choke some, but continue taking all of his cock. Your tongue spends time playing with the veins in his cock while his head relaxes in your throat.

“The cock hungry slut having a hard time deep throating all my cock?” Levi mocks as you pull it out to catch your breath. A string of saliva connected your lips and his cock together as your lust filled orbs met his.

“Not a chance.” You grin, placing his dick back in your mouth. Levi groans in delight as you repeat the same patterns as before. His cock twitches inside your mouth as pre-cum leaks from the tip and down your throat. You gladly swallow it as his cock becomes overwhelmed, releasing his semen onto your tongue. Not a drop was spilled as you milked his cock for all he had to offer.

Pulling away, Levi praises you again. “Such a good little slut you are. Time we give your pussy some attention, huh?”

“Yes, please, sir.” You beg, eagerly. He taps his desk.

“Bend over my desk.” He commands. Following orders, you bend over his desk like before. You arched your back so your ass and pussy is more accessible for Levi. He spreads your legs out more so your weeping cunt is fully exposed. The cold air sent chills down your spine. Levi is already hard again as he stares at your pussy.

Aligning himself, the tip of his cock enters your dripping hole, sliding in perfectly. You moan as he thrust a rough rhythm. His hips slap against your ass and his hands cling onto your hips. You tightly hang onto his desk as he pick up the pace. You sob out pleas for more.

“Better quiet down. Don’t want your coworkers hearing me fuck you like the whore you are now do we?”

You did not even care. You wanted Levi and you wanted him bad. Groans and profanities filled the room from you two as Levi hits all the right spots. You babble incoherent sentences as you start to climax again on Levi’s girth. Your walls clenched on his size and released when he re-enters himself. This does not stop Levi, though, as he chases after his own high.

“Already cumming again, slut?” Levi teases as he is slowly losing himself inside you. He hit your ass again while his dick twitches. “Ask permission next time.”

“I’m sorry, sir.” You cry out, not wanting him to stop. He pulls on your hair again, bending down to whisper in your ear.

“I’m going to fill you up so much that you have to hide it from your boyfriend.”

“Please Levi.” You beg, not even caring anymore. You wanted Levi. You have wanted him for a long time and the feeling is mutual on his end. That is why he hired you, after all.

Levi’s cock could not withstand the pressure anymore. Releasing into the depths of your cunt, he huffs profanities as every drop enters inside of you. You gladly take it as you breathe heavily. He finally pulls out, leaving you a cum filled mess. Giving your ass a gentle tap so you will get up.

“You are dismissed for the day.” Levi grumbled as he situated himself and you did the same. You straightened out your outfit and fixed your hair. You will fix your makeup in the restroom. You proceeded to exit your boss’ office when he called out to you. “Oh, and Y/N?”

“Yes?” You purred, looking over your shoulder.

“Let your boyfriend know you’re my slut now.”

©bakugosbratx

All Rights Reserved

#bratx request #bratx writes #levi ackerman #levi smut #levi ackerman smut #daddy ackerman #snk levi #snk anime #aot smut #aot x reader #aot requests #levi x reader #levi attack on titan #levi x y/n #levi x fem!reader #attack on titan #aot imagines

[safarigirlsp]

You’ve said you don’t read OC but I’d like to ask your OC reqs if you have any?? Why don’t you like OC? I like it better because it’s hard for me to picture myself in things.

This is just my personal preference and taste and not meant as any criticism of any kind.

I honestly don’t have any OC recs. Not because they’re not quality, just because I haven’t read anything with OC to speak of. I know that @desiraypark and @mariesackler write some with OC characters though! They might also know some other people.

To answer your question, it’s just my preference, but I don’t personally care for reading OC content. Same for Reylo content and it’s honestly for the same reason.

Most things in fanfiction are more about evoking an emotion rather than a deep story. They’re centered around angst, fluff, or smut etc rather than an immersive story, at least in the way I personally enjoy stories. If I’m going to read things that evoke those emotions, I’m selfish and I want to feel it about me.

Also, many of the stories that are more story centric are not really the type of story I would seek out for the story’s sake. Ex. Man falls in love with woman and makes her dream come true sort of thing. Again, that sort of thing is fun for me to picture about me, but I find it less engaging for me to picture about someone else lol. That’s not exclusive to fanfiction. That applies to my reading choices in novels as well. I seek out action and adventure primarily.

There are a few bad ass stories out there that I would still read if they were OC just for the sake of the story, but those are rare for me. The few that I can think of are by @babbushka @direnightshade and @in-silks-and-flesh-and-leather and they all involve detailed AUs with action, adventure, suspense, or horror. They’re reader insert anyway, so it’s a moot point.

There are two exceptions to this. I do read two Reylo stories that are long chaptered fics. I’m not tagging their author here because I don’t want her to think I’m saying anything negative lol. But, her stories are absolutely fantastic and involved, and her writing is top tier. The Heartbreak Prince and Like the Rifle, both by the same author. Selfishly though, I still would prefer they were reader insert lol. I would highly recommend them to you if you’re not turned off by Reylo.

I have a pretty good visual imagination and I just insert myself over Rey, or any other OC when I do read OC, and read it as me and/or reader insert anyway 🤣.

No offense to OCs or Reylos either and nothing specific to that ship.

I have inserted myself into books ranging from Harry Potter to Pride and Prejudice to Fifty Shades of Gray to The Da Vinci Code to The Count of Monte Cristo to Timeline, and pretty much everything else I’ve ever read. It’s just how it works in my head lol.

[simpicicle]

50 Shades Of Grey: Dumpster Fire

Welcome to my first Tumblr book review. :)

2.3/5

I could say nice things about this book, but why would I?

I went into this book with sour feelings, and I'm not surprised my opinion hasn't changed.

Plain and simple, Fifty Shades Of Grey doesn't fulfill its hype. It doesn't feel like a book that has sold over 100 million copies. It still feels like a fanfiction written on FanFiction.Net. It's not polished, beyond repetitive, and has poor sentence structuring.

For the love of Pete, did she even have an editor!?

And, in all honesty, apart of me wanted to like this book. But, in the end, I shouldn't have placed so much hope into this sorry excuse for a dramatic, sensual, twisted, love-story.

Where do I begin?

Let's start with our favorite girl, Anastasia Steele. Oh, how I despised reading from her POV. Reading her thoughts was a NIGHTMARE. She's so childish, she reminds of a teenager with zero life experience, she wasn’t sheltered by Ray or Carla. From what we know she had a very normal childhood, she didn’t have strict parents. There’s no explanation of why she acts like a confused and horny teenager! She’s not blissfully ignorant, she’s annoyingly ignorant and immature.

And don't even get me started on her subconscious and inner goddess. It’s the most infuriating thing to have James try and make Ana quirky with two people (?) in her head with more well-developed personalities than she has. It was exhausting having to be in her head for 514 pages.

If you were to take Christian Grey away from Anastasia, she would be the blandest character besides Kate. I understand that Christian helps Ana become more open, but c’mon! She was a human being before he came along, she must’ve had some type of personality! She’s hardly a person outside of him.

As someone who gets insecure about the dumbest stuff, I related to Ana in the first few pages about being self-conscious of her looks. But, MY GOD, does it get ridiculous. It gets to the point of being unrealistic, how can you make a woman being insecure unrealistic?  

SHE CAN'T DESCRIBE HER VAGINA WITHOUT SAYING, "DOWN THERE" OR "SEX", THE ONLY DESCRIPTIVE WORD SHE USES IS CLITORIS, HONEY YOU'RE IN YOUR TWENTIES.

Her pettiness towards Kate and Elliot was honestly the stupidest thing I've read. She constantly says they need to "get a room", or says something about it being gross that they're all over each other. She's a jealous jerk to her best friend. Ana can't be happy for Kate because she has what Ana wants.

Case in point, she's immature, ditzy and annoying.

Now, to go in on Mr. Fifty Shades himself.

Christian has gone through a lot in his life, however that never excuses anything he did/wants to do. The abuse is a big part of his character so it was hard to not feel some type of sympathy for this mess of a human being.

Now, with that out of the way, let's go ham.

Christian Grey is a narcissistic, controlling, pompous, big-dicked STALKER. By golly, I've never disliked a book character more than I have Mr. Grey.

He's honestly just as (if not more) stupid than Ana. His need for having control over EVERY SINGLE THING Ana does is annoying and, quite frankly, worrying. The need for control in one's life is something we all strive to have, but controlling someone else's life? Not a good sign, pal.

Every time he would say "I'm going to take you in (location)." I would lose seven years of my life. The way he brings up that he wants sex, is.. well, not normal? He either scolds Ana for not following the rules of the contract (which she never sign) and then feels bad about it, and starts laying on the "charm" and touches her, OR he just starts to make-out with her and undressing her without really asking until Ana is naked.

Look, I have nothing against BDSM or the community, but this crap Christian wants to do isn't cute, and isn't portrayed in a way (I think) is consenting and healthy. Grey says he NEEDS to do this or he won't be able to live and be happy, even after knowing Ana doesn't feel comfortable he pushes it onto her anyway.

Tampon scene. Ana doesn't know what's happening, and even though he NEVER takes his eyes off of her, he apparently can't see she's freaked out.

He threatens sex like a weapon. It's an unhealthy way of seeing sex, and I hope no one takes what Grey does as the norm.

His need to force-feed Ana is unnerving and made me uncomfortable, I know he wants her healthy and well served. But, let her drink Twinings English Breakfast tea in peace!

His climaxes are immature and, honestly, funny. "OH, ANA!" There, I said it.

Now, enough of our MC's. Let's get down to what we all care about.

~Sexy Time~

Which is undoubtedly, some of the WORST sexual encounters I've ever read. They're all extremely juvenile, and I did feel like I was reading some sixteen-year-olds Harry Styles smut from the depths of Wattpad. It was sloppy and boring, you could feel no excitement through James' words. And definitely not through Ana's feelings -- "Oh my..", "His hands go down there." "Holy crap." yeah, thanks, Ana.

Christian and Anastasia's need for fonduing is honestly, tiring, not in a good way. Like, do you guys literally wanna do anything else? Like maybe talk about why Ana is so blind and clearly doesn't know basic human anatomy? Or that Christian uses sex to stop Ana from talking or doing something he doesn't like? No? Just more poorly written sex? Okay.. cool.

I don't think Christian and Ana are a good couple, their personalities don't compliment each other well, and since there are four books after this, I'm assuming this doesn't matter and there are more of the same problems within those books as well (can't wait).

At the end of this book (last thirty, or so pages), I started to see a change within their relationship that was refreshing, but at the same time, I wasn't able to enjoy it because of everything that had come before it. I had already disliked Christian so his growth was lackluster for me. It was upsetting to see two characters I had been following for over three hundred pages now, finally start to have some type of positive encounters when I was already so fed up with them.

If it would've been sooner on, I might be typing up a completely different review right now. But, I'm not. So clearly, it wasn't very impactful. I want to see them both happy and in a healthy relationship, but heck, it's hard to see it.

Side characters

How do I even begin? They're all so dull and lacking.

If they weren't in this book, nothing would really change. Besides Kate and (maybe) Jose.

Out of all the side characters, the only ones who we're KIND OF fleshed out were Ana's mom and stepdad (Ray). The rest were lifeless place holders who didn't add anything to the main plot.

I found Christian's family boring and just your average Gilmore Girl rich family, they weren't strange like their son, but normal and sweet to Ana. But, still very empty and needed better building.

Taylor is cool though.

Ana's family (Carla, Bob, and Ray) were fine, I guess? They weren't the worse (looking at you Mia), but they left something to be desired. The whole underlying Twilight plot was heavy with Ana's parents and it was honestly hilarious.

Now, finally, let's talk about the ending. It sucked.

The fact it was first a fanfiction shows most at the end because it's so rushed and abrupt, I was lying in bed with a dumbfounded look, disappointed that this twisted story didn't at least, have a fulfilling ending.

That's about all I can bring myself to say about this book. Remember this is only my opinion so if you're one of the millions who loved this book, good for you! And no shade towards you.

Favorite phrase: "We aim to please, Mr. Gray/Miss Steele." Favorite repetitive word: Bewildered/Bewildering: Thirteen Favorite character: Ray Steele. Dude doesn't say much but cares for his daughter. Top tier.

#fifty shades of grey #50 shades of grey #book review #i hated it #christian grey #anastasia steele #i spent actual time on this #first review #taylor is my idol

[jesbakescookies]

Birds and Bees

This was supposed to be a random one-shot but as I was writing it, I realized I was writing the Negan from my fanfiction Rear Window. 

So please consider this a prequel one-shot to Rear Window. It's okay if you haven't read it, but I thought that those of you who have, might enjoy thinking of this as the time before Negan knew Kayla.

AU one-shot, no zombies. It contains cussing and smut, as well as a healthy dose of Negan humor.

This was a prompt from a friend. "Negan teaches sex-Ed.”

Thanks for the idea @lovesjdm! I hope you and @soythedemonqueen enjoy it!

I don't own the Walking Dead etc. I just play with it, like an overgrown child.

"Alright, alright. I want asscheeks in seats." Negan hollered, smacking a yardstick against the large desk in front of the class.

Handing a pile of paperwork to the boy in the first seat, Negan instructed, "Everybody take one and pass it along. This is reading material. Do not draw dicks on it. Do not write little love notes to your moon faced girlfriends and do not make any goddamn paper airplanes or so help me, you'll be running laps until your grandkids have gray ball hair. You got me, Stephens?"

"Yes, sir."

"That's what I like to hear." Negan drawled, slumping down in the rolling deskchair at the front of class. "Now you little pud pullers are in for a treat today. We have a special guest speaker and I want you clowns to behave."

"Who?" A kid in the center asked after raising his hand.

"Nurse Andrews is going to stop by for some... educational instruction." Negan rasped, a smile twitching at his lips at the idea of it. The new principal had mandated all Sex-Ed classes be taught by Co-Ed instructors, meaning Negan and Nurse McNiceTitties would be chatting about the birds and the bees to a bunch of fifteen year olds.

After class, if Negan got his way, he'd put a very large instructional manual on the subject matter, straight in her inbox. Hell, maybe even in her outbox, if she was a dirty girl.

"Now I don't want any damn shenanigans today." He instructed, raising his hand to count off all the ways the idiots could fuck up his chances of landing the hottest piece of ass at school, since the librarian transferred from Tolleson. Sarah was last fall's conquest and he was still avoiding the stage-four clinger like the clap. Negan was hoping the cute little nurse would provide him with much needed release, without all the strings.

Scanning the room, he stared down the biggest pains in his ass, while listing off his shit list.

"Number one, no dick or boob jokes. I'm the only one here funny enough, to pull that shit off, so don't-even-try-it. Number two, do not and I repeat, do not use the example condoms given to you, as water balloons."

The group broke into laughter, until Negan scowled deeply and slid a silencing glare over the room. Truthfully, he found that shit, funny-as-fuck. However, seeing as the last incident, ended with the principal reaming him a new asshole, Negan wanted to dodge that shitfest if at all possible.

"If I see a bunch of rubbers busted across campus, I will make you wish your parents double bagged it, before they went twenty toes. I will shut that shit down. Are we clear?"

A round of affirmative nods and grunted yeahs, echoed across the room. Moments later, a tap on the door announced his latest obsessions arrival and had him rising to open the door. Turning back to the classroom of twenty-five male students, he threatened, "Do not embarrass me."

After waiting for the group to nod in agreement, Negan opened the door with a wide grin. "Well, if it ain't my favorite medical professional."

Leaning against the doorframe with crossed arms, Negan blocked her from entering and let his hooded eyes trail down the sexy little things body. The woman was more than a foot shorter than Negan, the loose bun she wound her red hair in, giving her a couple more inches.

'Not as many as I'll give her later.' He thought with a smirk.

Her ginger complexion wasn't unhealthy, having more of a peach tone than a ghostly white and her rosy lips and sculpted brows fit her heart shaped face perfectly. She wore a pale grey cardigan and tight black skirt that showed of her curvy hips and shapely calves. The sexy secretary look had Negan's dick twitching and balls aching to slap against that apple shaped ass, he swore he could bounce a quarter off it.

Rolling her pretty blue eyes, the petite redhead murmured, "Am I allowed to come inside or am I teaching in the hall?"

"Oh I'll let you come inside, dollface. Hell, maybe even outside, if you're the adventurous type."

Sighing in frustration, Nurse Andrews brushed passed him, leaving behind the tantalizing smell of something sweet and mouth watering. While greeting the students, the redhead wrote her name on the chalkboard.

"Hello, class. Most of you have met me in the recent weeks but I'll go ahead and introduce myself, for those of you who haven't. I'm Ms. Andrews and along with your physical education teacher, I will be providing you with valuable information. This information is very important for you and your future well being, so I'd like all of you to pay attention and take this course very seriously."

"Damn, you sound so strict." Negan murmured next to her, a grin curling his lips as she blushed under his gaze. Licking the corner of his lip, Negan added, "I never would've guessed, but I like it. Very… naughty schoolmarm."

Rolling her eyes again, the school nurse wandered further down the chalkboard away from him and wrote down a list of topics for the day. Negan stood nearby, his head cocking slightly to the side as she bent over to finish the long list. He could see the barest lace edge of a pair of thigh high stockings, the sight causing his needy dick to throb.

'Fuckin hell.' He growled inwardly at the idea of bending her over the desk and pushing the little skirt over her curved ass, exposing the nylons and what promised to be a tight kitten.

"Okay, where would you like to start?" Ms. Andrews asked, interrupting his filthy fantasy, her jewel toned eyes rising to his.

"Oh, I got a couple ideas." He drawled, before biting his lip in thought.

Clearing her throat awkwardly, she offered, "I suppose I can start then, since you're so… overwhelmed. Everyone turn to page fifteen in your Health Sciences textbook. We're going to talk about the female anatomy."

"I think I should take this one, Ms. Andrews. I'm an expert in this subject."

"More than an actual female?"

"You have... no idea."

"Be that as it may, I will be taking over this part of the course." She informed, her eyebrow cocking haughtily. The expression made his throat bob, as he swallowed thickly, the challenge in her eyes causing his blood pressure to rise.

"If you say so, nurse."

Pursing her lips, she turned to the students and began her detailed explanation of the human female anatomy. The words were scientific and medical in natural but every time one slipped from her pretty pink lips, Negan had the urge to taste the part spoken about.

"The areola…"

All he could think about, was the shade of pink her perky nipples probably were and if they'd taste as sweet as she smelled. Watching her shift her weight, from pointy heel to pointy heel, Negan felt his mouth dry, as her calves flexed deliciously. He wanted to throw them over his shoulders and bite them, while giving her 'what for' on the teacher lounge table.

"Negan." Her voice broke his dazed stare from the delicate bones above her fuck-me heels and realized it was his turn to speak. Clearing his throat, he took the textbook from her and flipped to the male anatomy chapter.

"Page fifty five." He instructed hoarsely, leaning against the front of the desk, his long legs outstretched and crossed at the ankle. "I know all of you perverts are well versed in your gear by now, but we're going to gross you out by telling you what exactly is inside that dried apricot of yours."

"Jesus." He heard her mutter under her breath, her arms crossing with a huff.

Flashing her a wide grin, Negan began reading the paragraph of the vessels in the testicles and the human erection. Droning on with the required information, he ended the bland speech by slapping the book shut and asking, "Any questions about your tool bag?"

"No." They all answered emphatically.

"Great. We all know how boners are made. Now onto the good stuff, right?"

The school nurse touched his arm and whispered, "Maybe I should do this next part."

"Why do you say that?" Negan drawled, his lips tugging at the corner, as she flushed under his hooded stare.

Huffing out a breath of frustration, she murmured, "Because these kids don't need to learn how to be promiscuous. They need educational information on being safe and the results of not doing so."

"Please say promiscuous again but slower and softer like." He rasped, his eyes darkening as she stared incredulously at him.

"Negan." She growled, the sound turning him on more than anything else, ever before.

"Okay, okay, Nurse Ratched, take all the fun out of it." He grumbled, gesturing towards the group of horny teenagers. "They're all yours."

Negan could barely control the chuckle bubbling up in his chest, as she seemed to flounder at the attention. She coughed into her hand and cleared her throat, while picking up the textbook.

"Please uh… turn to page ninety, Chapter Fifteen…. Sexual Intercourse."

Wiping a heavy hand across his mouth, Negan hid the grin giving away his total, utter amusement at her sudden shyness. Noticing his barely suppressed humor at the situation, Ms Andrews barreled full steam ahead.

"Wait, so… like you can get stuff from a blow job?" Stephens asked with a furrowed brow.

Negan snorted at the question and replied, "Think about it this way. Say you're with a girl, who'd been with someone with a vicious case of nut scabbies. She was cool with it, or hey, maybe not and that's why she kicked his scabby ass to the curb. If she'd bobbed the bishop head, she could be carrying a unpleasant surprise on those pretty glossed lips. Then along comes you, a bumbling idiot looking to stick your meat thermometer somewhere. That hot little mouth could leave more than cherry chapstick on your sack."

Ms. Andrews rolled her eyes at his description and added, "What your teacher so elegantly put, oral sex can lead to the transference of sexual transmitted diseases from mouth to genitalia and vice versa."

"Yeah, that's what I said." Negan drawled, flashing her a smirk. "Now some things can be cured with some knob butter."

"Medical intervention.

"But a lot can't be." Negan ignored her input. "You could be stuck with a lifetime of itchy balls and weeping dicks. So… as much as it blows to wear condoms while getting a blow, at least your dick won't fall off afterwards."

"Wearing a condom during oral sex is the best way to avoid contracting contagious venereal diseases." She translated into adult.

"That's what I said." Negan repeated, his lip twitching as she let out a long frustrated sigh.

"So like, if a girl like… does it a lot it's bad right?" A messy haired teen asked after the awkward descriptions of types of fornication.

"Man, I told you. Stacy's a slut." His friend added with a grin.

Whistling sharply at the latest barrage of inappropriate statements, Negan growled, "What did I tell you about talking shit, Jeffreys? After school detention tomorrow."

"What? That's not fair!"

"You know what else isn't fair, this world subjecting others to idiots like you. So shut your trap, stop bad mouthing people or I'll have to call your mommy." Negan threatened, his eyebrows raised in challenge.

Scoffing loudly, the kid countered, "Pfft. She won't care. She hates Stacy."

"Oh… you thought." Negan chuckled gruffly, while taking a seat on the teen's desk casually.

Leaning closer he spoke quietly and calmly, "See I'm not going to rat on you kid... No, no… I'm going to ask her out. You know, wine and dine her. Show her a good time. I know she's been lookin'. Maybe I'll take her to that Italian restaurant she's always telling me about at our parent teacher meetings. She's a real looker, your mom… Hey, maybe I could be your new stepdad. Would you like that, son?"  

The kid became paler and paler as Negan spoke, his fingers gripping the pencil in his hand until it snapped. Glancing down at it, Negan returned his narrowed eyes to the horrified teen. "Or, you could stop being a royal case of crotch rot and stop talking shit about people."

Nodding numbly, the kid sank in his seat with dread still roiling in his stomach. Negan stood up and returned to the nurse's side, flashing her a smile. He noticed she looked a tad flustered, her eyes wider and brighter. He could tell she was both impressed and hot for his performance.

"You like that darlin'." He rasped lowly, his lip twitching as she seemed to startle at his question.

"T-that was inappropriate."

"But it was awesome." He drawled, winking at her. "Alright, you slack jawed idiots. Let's talk about how to protect your johnson from foreign invaders. This is a prophylactic. Also known as, a contraceptive, condom, rubber, jimmy hat, meat sack, dick shrinkwrap, raincoat and my personal favorite, boner bag. These guys are the first line of defense when it comes to STDs and pregnancy."

"But they aren't one hundred percent effective." The redhead added, stepping forward to speak the stats that she had memorized. Negan smirked as she prattled off on the chances of catching unattractive diseases and teen pregnancy. After the kids seemed thoroughly horrified at the graphic descriptions of revolting and decidedly, boner killing horror shows, Negan took the reigns on the demonstration.

"Okay, so… you decided not to wait. The moments right, your partners down with it." He drawled, feeling surprisingly embarrassed to handle a banana in front of the sexy school nurse. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her covering a smile, as he had his own moment of performance anxiety. Clearing his throat roughly, Negan instructed, "don't bite the wrapper, you're bound to tear it and there's no love, without the glove."

A low chuckle had his neck heating up and sweat to prickling at his temples. Negan wasn't someone who blushed at attention, but as he unrolled the stupid condom over the very impressive banana, he was as red as a Mormon in a whorehouse.

"There." He grunted, holding the defiled piece of fruit up in the air. "The big guy is ready for some fun with Ms. Chiquita."

"That's if you still want to and your partner does. You can always change your mind." She added, her eyes scanning the group. "There's no shame and shouldn't ever be any anger if someone changes their mind."

Negan nodded with the statement and leaned against the desk with thickly crossed arms. "Good point, Ms. Andrews. Let's talk about the word 'no'."

Looking over the teen boys, he spoke evenly and firmly. "The word no, means stop what you are doing and listen to what they are saying. No does not mean maybe. No does not mean try harder. It does not mean you have a reason to be angry with or hurt someone for saying it. No.. means.. no."

Staring them down with narrowed eyes, Negan drawled, "I want you to think about how it would feel to find out a woman in your life, maybe your mother or your sister, hell maybe your great aunt Linda… think about how it would be, to find out someone didn't listen to them when they said no. Think about how that would hurt them, how unfair and disgusting it would be for your loved one to be abused and disregarded like that. Think about it when you get pissed off because your partner changed their mind. You do not force someone to do something, they do not want. Do you understand me?"

The room was quiet for a long moment as the serious conversation sunk in. Negan scanned the room looking for anyone not paying attention or blowing off the speech but saw none.

"Understood?"

"Yeah." Was mumbled throughout the room.

"Excellent. Now we're going to watch a brief video about the miracle of childbirth. It should ruin sex for you until you're thirty." Negan drawled, shoving the ancient VHS tape in the equally ancient VCR.

After hitting play and turning the lights off, both Negan and Ms. Andrews headed to the back of the room. Slumping into one of the desks, Negan folded his arms across the top and kept his eyes on the trouble makers of the class. He felt the nurse staring at him but made sure to wait to acknowledge it. When she began to fidget, Negan rasped, "I know, I know. I'm inappropriate but the topic is one that pisses me the fuck off, so scare tactics were necessary."

"I was going to say I was impressed at your handling of it." She replied softly.

"That's not the only thing you'd be impressed at my handling of." He murmured with a grin.

Rolling her pretty eyes, the redhead muttered, "Do you have to always do that?"

"I know, I know. Bragging is unappealing but in my defense, I am really fucking awesome at handling my-."

"Stop. I wasn't talking about that. You always sexualize everything."

"That's because you turn this delicious shade of pink." Negan flirted.

"Shush." 

"Did you just shush me?"

"Yes, so... shush already." Her lips were pouty and pink, the quirk in the corner, telling him she was entertained but fighting the urge to admit it.

Chuckling under his breath, Negan leaned closer and murmured, "Doll, you couldn't shush me if you sat on my face. Actually I'd like to see you try that out. Who knows maybe it'll work. What'd ya say?"

"I say you're incorrigible."

"You love it."

"I love when you shut your mouth."

"So you want me to what, just sit here and look pretty?" He drawled, giving her his most cheeky smile. Rolling her eyes, she retorted, "sounds about right."

"So you think I'm attractive then." He smiled cockily.

"I think you're annoying."

"Annoyingly attractive." He quipped, bumping her with his elbow. "Stop pretending you weren't watching me fruit roll-up that banana without imagining me-."

"Stop." She growled, her eyes flashing to his. "You're being inappropriate."

"Yep."

"Do you ever shut up?"

"Nope."

"You should have that checked out."

"Well, that is a fine fucking idea." He drawled lowly, his mouth hovering near her ear. "Would you mind giving me a physical? You know, for scientific purposes."

Scoffing loud enough to have the boys heads turning back, the woman's cheeks turned that delectable shade he loved.

Clicking his tongue, Negan winked at her and whispered, "You're disrupting class, Ms. Andrews. I'll see you in after school detention."

"Pfft. Stuff it." She quipped, her eyes narrowing but the dimple in her cheek told him she was smirking under that scowl.

"Glad-fucking-ly." He rasped, his grit painting a vivid picture of just how much he wanted to. Flicking her eyes to his, the fiery redhead started to speak, but was interrupted, as the group of monsters set on destroying all of Negan's hard work, erupted into horror filled screams. Clenching his teeth, he glared at the screen as the bun was grotesquely expelled from the oven.

"Cock blockers." He muttered, slumping down, as the school nurse rose to turn the lights back on and stop the tape. Negan sulked for a moment, his dick ready to stage a revolt from the shear amount of heavy lifting it kept doing all afternoon.

'Easy big guy. Soon.' He grunted, while rising to his feet.

The class went much to be expected, red faced teenagers and exaggerated gagging sounds when discussing the menstruation cycle. Negan confiscated two notes and three crudely drawn dick pics, which he made sure to pocket because they were hilarious and he had a collection already. Don't fucking judge a man for his hobbies. Eventually he gave two teens detention for asking if the nurse could give them a demonstration of proper female condom usage.

Negan leaned against the desk watching the petite woman erase the chalkboard, her ass swishing with every swipe of her hand. He chewed his lip to contain the groan when she bent over to pick up a paper airplane.

"Fucking assholes." Negan grunted at the sight.

The chuckle she released extinguished his irritation at the little animals disobeying him, but the pointy paper flying towards his face had him growling again. Smacking it away, he wagged a finger at her. "You could've poked my eye out."

"Don't be a baby."

"You should know better as a medical professional." Negan drawled, watching her pack her bag up.

Snorting, she glanced at him and retorted, "Well as a medical professional, I diagnosis you as being full of shit."

Huffing out a laugh, Negan swaggered towards her, his eyes trailing down her body. "That's some foul language for a lady."

Biting her lip, she watched him approach with wary eyes. "I should go."

"Why's that? You got somewhere to be?"

"I have stuff to do."

"Like what?" He asked, reaching out to tuck a wild strand of red hair behind her ear. Negan watched the flush rise up her cheeks, highlighting the sprinkle of freckles across her nose.

"Paperwork."

"Well, fuck. Why didn't you say so, that's sounds really fucking important." He deadpanned, flashing her cocky grin.

"Shush." She muttered at his teasing, her lips pursed to keep the smile from her face.

"You know what I told you about shushing me." He rasped, leaning closer to get another whiff of her delectable smell.

"Stop being a pervert." She huffed, while trying to leave the classroom. Negan could tell she didn't want to leave but was embarrassed at the conversation. Grasping her wrist loosely, Negan drawled, "It's part of my charm."

"It's not very charming."

"Yet you like me."

"I don't like you."

"I find me attractive."

"So."

"So you do?"

"Jesus, obviously your good looking." She growled, pulling at his grasp but only barely. "It's your mouth that's the turn off. Now let me go."

"Doll, you haven't even let me use my mouth on you. Believe me, it is not a turn off." He drawled, reeling her closer to murmur into her ear. "Let me show you, just how good I am with my mouth."

Negan watched her swallow thickly, her eyes flicking to his before dropping to his lips. Swiping his tongue across the bottom one, Negan could see her resolve crumbling as his thumb stroked the delicate skin below her wrist.

"Come on, sweetheart." He rasped, tugging her closer to brush his lips against her temple. "You know you want to."

"What happened to no means no." She muttered, her eyes still glued to his mouth.

"You haven't said no." He replied, a smirk tugging at his lips when she rolled her eyes. "Keep rolling those pretty little peepers of yours and their bound to roll right out of your pretty little head."

"So you think I'm pretty?" She mocked him for his pestering earlier.

"I think you're fucking gorgeous." Negan drawled, reeling her into his chest and cupping her face. "and I think you want me to kiss you, as bad as I want too."

He watched her lick her lip, subconsciously readying herself for what was about to happen. Leaning forward, Negan kissed her softly, plucking at her soft pink lips as she began to sink into his chest and hands. Soon the kiss deepened and he got to taste every sweet corner of her pliable mouth.

Pulling away for a breath, Negan drawled, "You still need to go do paperwork?"

"What paperwork?" she rasped, her eyes dark and mouth swollen.

"Exact-fucking-ly." He growled, nipping her bottom lip before pulling away. Smirking when she pouted at his sudden retreat, Negan wandered to the classroom door and flipped the lock to make sure they weren't interrupted by some nosy asshole. Negan wasn't going to let the opportunity pass and he sure as fuck wasn't going to let some moron wander in an ruin his chances of burying his bone in the hottest piece of ass in the tri-county area.

As he headed back towards her, Negan took in her heavy breathing and flushed skin. She was more than gorgeous, she was beautiful and the longer Negan looked her over the more he began to notice.

"You really are beautiful, you know that?" he rasped, the grit in his voice causing shivers to run through her body.

"I.."

"You're a typical woman huh? Don't know how hot you are."

"I just don't see myself that way."

"Well let me show you how fucking attractive I think you are." he growled, his hands laying heavily on her hips as they shuffled towards the desk.

Backing her up against the table top, Negan couldn't stop his hands from gripping every square inch within reaching distance. Her ass filled one hand, as the other cupped her face and neck. He rolled his hips against her, pressing her into the hard surface.

"Goddamn, you are so sexy." He growled as her hands yanked him closer by a handful of shirt.

"We shouldn't do this here."

"No, we shouldn't." He rumbled, his mouth dipping to her neck as he kissed and sucked a hot path along the skin. "But we're going to and we're going to enjoy the fuck out of it."

Slowly unbuttoning the sweater she wore, Negan groaned as he found the lacy camisole below it. The silky fabric barely hid the soft curves of her breasts, the delicate bra underneath pushing them up and together. Dipping his face into the warm cleavage, he licked and sucked on the exposed curves.

"I want to die face down in this titties." He growled, nipping the flesh as her sweater and cami was shed. His hands stroked her skin and massaged her hips and ass, nothing was enough. Negan wanted to touch everything and everywhere, all at once.

"Negan." She moaned as his hand pulled her bra down enough to tongue at her exposed nipple.

"Yeah, baby girl." He growled, brushing his teeth across the puckered skin. "You like it when I touch you?"

"Yes." She hissed as he tugged on her nipple sharply.

"Good girl." He drawled, before ordering, "Turn around."

The little redhead seemed confused at first but surprisingly followed his directions. Humming at the sight of her pale back and the tight skirt that still highlighted her decadent ass, Negan gripped both her hips and pulled her flush against his groin.

"You want this, darlin'?"

"Yeah." She moaned as he ground his dick against her center from behind. "Enough talking about it."

"You telling me to shush again, doll?"

Glancing over her shoulder she murmured, "Maybe, what'll you do if I am?"

"Fuck." Negan rasped, snapping his hips against her, while pressing her into the hard surface. Dipping his head into the curve of her neck, Negan kissed and nipped his way to her ear before whispering, "I think I'm going to have to show you how talented my mouth is. Maybe you'll stop telling me to shut up."

Pulling the chair over, Negan took a seat to bring him at eye level to her ass and hips. Glancing over her shoulder with wide eyes, she muttered, "What're you doing?"

Negan smirked as he slowly pushed her skirt up and over her ass, exposing the fuck-hot thigh highs and garters he knew lie below. The soft curve of her ass was covered in lacy panties that had him practically drooling at the sight of the damp fabric.

"Fucking hell." He growled, leaning forward to take a bite out of the soft flesh. The squeak she emitted at the sharp nip had him laugh gruffly, his teeth flashing bright as she scowled back at him.

"Aww, don't be like that darlin'."

"Are you going to just tease me or are you-." her words were choked on when he grabbed her panties and tore them off leaving her stockings and garter in place.

"Hey!" she exclaimed before moaning lowly as he brushed his thumbs across her wet core. Negan growled deeply as the pads of his fingers slid effortlessly through the wet lips.

"Goddamn, sweetheart. You. Are. Soaked."

"Fuck." She gasped as his tongue took a long swipe up her center, as he spread her open.

"That's very unladylike." He rumbled behind her with a chuckle, his eyes taking in the flushed skin and trembling thighs.

"Does anything about this seem very ladylike right now?" She asked, squirming in front of him waiting for more.

"Touché." He grunted before diving in face first into the tastiest pussy he'd ever had. Twirling his tongue through the quivering lips, Negan sucked a delicious pattern over her hood, while plunging a finger inside her clenching walls.

Her moans urged him on, his eyes flicking up her body to see her face pressed into the desk with clenched eyes and parted mouth. He growled deeply as she ground back into his mouth, her body begging for him to make it cum.

"Like that?" he rasped, while inserting two fingers into the tight little core begging for more. Plunging them in and out, while sucking on her swollen clit, Negan listened to her moan and sigh, her eyes fluttering open to watch him from over her shoulder.

"Do you?" he asked again, licking her arousal from his lips as he worked her over with his fingers.

Nodding she murmured, "Yes."

"You wanna cum on my loud mouth huh?" 

"Yes." She moaned, her head thrown back as he sucked her clit deep into his mouth, while fingering her quickly. "Please."

Growling like a wild animal, Negan kept his pace hard and fast as she began to shudder and shake below his mouth. Soon she pushing back onto his fingers, grinding her pussy against his face greedily. He couldn't get enough of her taste and scent, the man rutting his face into her folds deeper and hard.

"Oh fuck." She moaned, her head thrown back as she came long and hard all over his tongue and lips. He felt her walls fluttering and squeezing his plunging fingers as he continued to lick and suck her sensitive hood and clit.

When all that was left were spasms and mewling, Negan gave her core one more long flat tongue swipe, before smirking at her flustered, sweaty state.

Slowly he unbuckled his pants, his hands moving efficiently and precisely, as she watched him with hazy eyes.

"You like that baby?" he asked, stroking his impossibly hard dick, while looking over the wet core still dripping in front of him.

"Yeah."

"You want me to put this inside you?"

Panting at his question, the redhead nodded shyly at the question but wiggled her hips enticingly. Humming deeply at the sight, Negan stroked his cock with a tight fist before reaching into the desk to grab a condom. After rolling it down, Negan drawled, "You wanna sit on my lap, nurse?"

Smirking, she began to turn around but Negan grabbed her hips and growled, "Stay like that."

Lowering her onto his lap, while she faced away, Negan watched his dick slowly slid inside her. Gripping her hips, Negan set an easy pace of her tight ass rising and falling onto his lap. Stroking a hand up her spine, Negan plucked the hooks of her bra, allowing the material to fall from her chest. Sliding his hands up her waist, Negan circled them to cup her soft breasts, squeezing them and plucking at her nipples as she rose and fell onto his dick.

Negan bit into her shoulder as she continued to grind on his lap, circling her hips as he lost himself inside the feel of her.

"Fuck, doll." He growled his mouth sucking on the sweet flesh behind her ear, his breath hot and heavy against her neck. "You feel so amazing."

"Negan." She gasped, her hand raising to clutch a handful of the hair at the back of his neck.

"You gonna cum on my dick, sweetheart?" he asked, his hips rolling off the seat to impale her deeper, while he slid one hand to stroke her clit and his other to twist her perky tit. "Fuck I can feel you. You're so damn close." 

"I wanna." She moaned, her hips squirming under the weight of his heavy arm as he flicked her hood with two fingers.

"I'll take care of you, baby." Negan cooed, before rising to pin her to the desktop in front of her. Grasping her hips, Negan began rocking his hips into her sopping core until his pace became quick and sharp. The snap of flesh against flesh was almost drowned out by the heavy panting they both expelled, but nothing suppressed the screech of the table legs moving across the worn linoleum. Negan growled as she squeezed and clutched at him, her nails clawing at his thighs and forearms.

"Taking it so good, baby." He purred, his hips snapping into her ass while she moaned. "Now cum."

The sight of her head thrown back and her ass arched to let him sink as far as humanly possible, had Negan breathless. He watched with seized lungs as the beautiful woman below him came with a long string of curse words belonging to a sailor. Nothing had ever been so hot and no one had ever cum so hard on his dick before. Negan was blown away by the pure unadulterated lust he saw in her eyes when she peered at him over her flushed sweaty shoulder.

"Fu-ck." He grunted as her lips flexed and quivered around his dick, the deep hollow almost refusing his retreat with every thrust. "Damn, doll. Your kitten won't let go."

"Sit." She rasped huskily, her hands pushing against his hips.

Negan obeyed, if only because his legs felt like they were about to buckle under the weight of his aching dick. As he did, he watched the woman removing her skirt, leaving her in nothing but a garter, stockings and high heels, turn around to face him. Negan let his eyes drift over her scantily clad body, his pupils probably dilated to the point of no return, as he focused on the cleft between her damp thighs.

"That answer one of my questions." He grumbled, his lip pulled between his teeth, as she swayed her curvy shape towards him. The swish of her hips and bounce of her breasts had to be the sexiest thing Negan had ever seen.

"Which was?"

"If you were a real redhead." He replied, flashing her the cheeky grin he knew pulled her trigger.

Biting that plump bottom lip, he would kill for, to suck on, she murmured, "And that's a good thing?"

"Fuck yes it is." He growled, pulling her onto his lap to get closer to the hot little fire crotch.

Negan's eyes rolled back in his skull, as she sunk onto his aching dick, the tight lips engulfing him like a second skin. His hands move long soft sweeps across her body, rough fingertips tracing every curve and dip to her body. He couldn't get enough of the otherworldly material that claimed to be her skin. He'd never felt anything so seductive, as her muscles moving under his palms, as she rolled and rocked her tight light body onto his.

Negan groaned when she began rising and falling with a quicker pace, her hands raking through his hair to grabbed two handfuls at the back of his skull. Pulling it, the fiery woman in his lap kissed him deeply, while circling and grinding her hips against his. All he could do was clutch onto her ass and tits while she had another orgasm from riding his dick. He swallowed her guttural moans as he plunged into her with more force and focus.

After a particularly tight clench from the delectable body atop his, Negan's control broke. Throwing his head back, a forceful moan was torn from his throat, as he rocked his hips off the chair and into the tight little nurse pistoning on his lap. He could feel her quivering and trembling around his dick and under his hands. Pressing his face into her neck, Negan swirled and rolled his hips into her spread thighs, his dick pulsing and throbbing into the hot core. He couldn't see for a solid minute, his vision black from hyperventilating like some virgin sinking his first boner.

Stroking her skin, Negan cupped her breasts and kissed her neck and jaw. He could feel her sinking into his touch, the softness of her surrounding him as she nuzzled into his neck.

'Could fucking get used to this.' He thought while squeezing her ass with both hands as he placed open mouth kisses along her cleavage and neck.

"That's the most thorough check up I've had all year, Nurse Andrews." He muttered, a smile breaking out as she rolled her pretty blue eyes at him.

Combing a hand through his mussed hair, the little redhead replied, "We've slept together, Negan. I think you can drop the formality now."

"Sounds fucking good to me, darlin'." he drawled, smirking up at her. "So… when can we do this again, Lucille?"

"Who said anything about this happenin' again?" She quipped.

"Oh, doll…. Didn't I tell you? You're my girl now."

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12761404/1/Birds-and-Bees

#The Walking Dead #twd fanfiction #fanfiction #AU fanfiction #negan #negan x oc #negans thirst squad #negans-network #prequel #rear window #sex ed #one shot #smut #coach negan

[inside-of-a-fangirls-mind]

Easy Peasy

Brief Summary: Tony Stark catches you watching Magic Mike and decides to give you a little show himself. 

Words:  3,108

Warnings: Smut and Fluff? Kinda if you squint. 

Pairing: Tony Stark X Female!Reader

A gasp escaped your lips, your eyes glued to the TV. A blush spreading across your cheeks as you watched the sexy scene play out before you. Of course, you had to be watching Magic Mike. Natasha had told you it was a great movie but shouldn't watch it around Tony.Tony your boyfriend of nearly two years, who constantly has you involved in things you shouldn't be involved in. Like the Avengers, and all of SHIELDS business. No secrets right? And through it all the raid on New York, the Winter Soldier mishap, and even Ultron (Who makes a murder bot anyway?) you two have stayed together and stayed happy.

Another hot scene had you fanning yourself as you sat on the couch, in the living room you and Tony shared on his floor. You almost felt like sliding your hand into your (F/C) PJs pants and pleasuring yourself since Tony was still in the lab. But somehow you managed to hold out a little long. The beat of the music coming from the TV and the way the strippers moved their bodies was such a turn on. And you could feel that warm heat pooling between your thighs as you shifted.

Just as you were about to give up and pleasure yourself, your boyfriend walks in the door with a thing of roses. But you can't pull your eyes away from the TV.Tony, of course, notices this, normally you'd jump up and embrace him. This time you didn't and he was a bit jealous. He set the roses down and walked over to see what you were watching. As soon as he saw Magic Mike playing he starred at you, shocked. You were never the type of girl to do this or watch such things. That's what he was for, making his own mini (not- abusive, and kinda sweet) version of fifty shades of gray. Awakening your inner goddess, and well he loved doing it. Without a second thought, he stood in front of the TV, hands firmly placed on his hips.

"What do you think you are doing (Name)?" He huffed, clearly unpleased. Why would you want to watch a bunch of fake strippers instead of being with your boyfriend? Which of course meant hot sex.

"Tony." You whined, leaning forward to push him out of the way of the TV. You didn't care what you were doing, the way they moved their hips was mesmerizing. Even the sexiness that was Tony couldn't compete with this.

He was a little hurt as she pushed him out of the way, did she really want the movie more than him? He was never the jealous type until you came along. He never wanted to share you and now that's basically what it felt like he was doing. Moving back in front of the TV he glared at her.

"I'm here you know, I took off from the lab early just to see you. I went and got you roses too, to say I'm sorry for all the time in the lab. And now, now you're choosing some movie over me? Your boyfriend?" His voice was laced with poison and honey. "This fake movie, with fake strippers. That's not even what real strip clubs look like! Let alone the strippers! How can you even like that?" You glared at him a moment, but you felt a little bad. Tony did get off early for you, and the flowers. Hell, he even stopped watching porn for you, unless it was with you. 

"Tony it's just a movie. And I just wanna finish it. That's all." But it was clear it was much more than that.He rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his Arc Rector.

"Those dance moves aren't even hard you know. Even Steve could do them." You chuckled softly knowing you wouldn't get to finish it tonight.

"Steve? Well yeah, probably he's super buff and super flexible. He wouldn't have trouble doing it."

"Clint could too." He huffed before glancing across the room. Clearly, he was jealous, and probably mad at the fact he put Steve striping into your head.

"Of course Clint could. Have you seen the way he trains with Nat? Or his arm strength." You hum looking over your lover, finally seeing the jealousy in him.

"I could too." He muttered under his breath, hoping you didn't hear it. He knew he wasn't as flexible as Steve or as strong. And Clint was a close second, but they couldn't be that hard right?

A laugh rolled off your lips at that. "No, Tony, you couldn't." You didn't mean it in a bad way, but you knew his body. He once even pulled a leg muscle from a position you guys were trying. He couldn't do half, if any, of the dances they do in Magic Mike. Not that it bothered you, he was great at other things.

"I so could," he glanced at the TV before nodding "Easy Peasy." You, of course, raised your eyebrow to this. The idea of him moving his hips in such sinful ways just for you.Well, that got you wet, and now he had your full attention. Even though you knew he wouldn't do it, it was a hot thought. You stood up moving to go turn off the movie before you felt his arms round your waist, stopping you."I don't think so (Name)" He growled seductively, pressing his hips against you roughly. He was easily semi hard and very protective at the moment.You let out a small groan, feeling his body against yours. You were so sensitive from trying to sit through that movie, you forgot about your own desire. 

"Tony I just wanna turn off the movie."

"No." He growled again but it was rough, more like a command. A smirk forming on his lips as he stood you up properly and ran his hand up your chest before down to cup your crotch. You back firmly pressed against his chest.You let out a loud gasp, clearly able to feel his fingers through the thin material of your (F/C) Pj bottoms. 

"Tony.." You whisper softly, your hips slightly swaying into his.That earned a small hiss from him, you knew those sexy hip-hugging pants weren't helping his erection. Even though he tried to keep you still, you turned in his arms and kissed him. Once your lips were on his he lost it, his hands desperately roaming your body trying to pull you closer. Your hands slid down his chest going straight for the button on his pants. He grabbed your hands with a smirk on his lips, which were currently pressed against your neck.

"Baby, I'm hot just like an oven.." He whispered into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You made this playboy get that hot? "I need some lovin'," He whispered after a few seconds.He was not doing what you thought he was. You pulled back and looked at him to see if he was really serious about this. "And Baby, I can't hold it much longer, It's getting stronger and stronger." He hummed out softly, oh he was so going to ass an ass cause of the movie. "And when I get that feeling, I want sexual healing, sexual healing." He sang softly before lightly rolling his hips into yours.You let out a soft moan before chuckling softly. 

"Tony stop playing around and let me have you." You huffed softly before he ran his hands over your hips.

"JARVIS, play my track." He spoke to the ceiling before setting you softly on the couch. As sure as you were sitting there Marvin Gaye; Sexual Healing started playing. 

You chuckled quite loudly looking up at Tony with an amused look."What now Tony? You gonna dance for me?" You teased before rolling your eyes. You honestly knew he wouldn't ever do anything to make a fool of himself. It wasn't who he was, and well you kinda wished he would be silly to you.

"I am, actually. Easy Peasy." He smirked before swaying his hips softly to the beat. He took his white blazer in his hands softly sliding it off his shoulders before flipping it back on. "Just enjoy." He purred before sliding his hands down, hooking his thumbs on the belt loops of his jeans. Circling his hips to the beat of the music, a small hip thrust between each circle.You could feel your cheeks heating up, you honestly couldn't believe what you were seeing. Tony, The Tony Stark, giving you a private strip show. 

You fidgeted on the couch, unable to sit still. You looked at him, clearly undressing him as he went on.Your looks only encouraged him more, cause as nervous as he was, he knew you would enjoy this. He finally shimmed his blazer off, tugging on his shirt before lifting it up a little. You obviously couldn't help yourself as you let out a little cheer for him. That made his cheeks go pink, slowly pulling his shirt off and throwing it to you.

"Woooh! Take it off!" You cheered your boyfriend on, no matter how embarrassed you clearly were. Tony smiled widely before sliding his hands over his hips, slowly popping the button on his jeans. His eyes would slowly crawl over your body, oh how he wanted to quit this stupid show and take you. But he wouldn't he needed to prove no one is better than him, besides you of course.You felt like you would start drooling any moment. You bit your lip trying to hold back a moan, as you watched him palm at himself through his jeans. His head tipping back with a moan of your name rolling off your lips. You stood up walking over to him, leaning in and kissing him roughly. You didn't wanna play this game anymore, you wanted him now!He chuckled and interlocked your fingers with his before pulling away from the kiss. 

"No Touching (Name), or you won't get any tonight." He whispered huskily in your ear. You were trembling, just wanting his hands all over your body. A soft whimper falling from your lips as he once again sat you on that dreaded couch. You wanted to protest but he wouldn't have any of it. But instead of stepping back to the spot he was in, he kicked your legs apart softly standing between them. His hands caressing your face before running into your hair as his circle and thrust his hips so close to you.

Shaky hands slide up his thighs, you were wondering if he would stop you but he didn't. You trailed your fingers over the top of his somewhat exposed boxers before slowly pulling the zipper down. But as soon as you were going to touch him, he pulled away and stepped back into his spot slowly working his pants off his hips. His hands tugging on his boxers before pulling them back up.You cursed under your breath, he was really drawing this out. 

"Tony, please.." You whined softly before he smirks, his eyes dark and full of lust.

"Please, what Sweet Cheeks~" He purred his hand rubbing himself softly through his boxers, keeping direct eye contact with you the whole time. He knew what you wanted, he wanted it as well.

"Get over here and let me have you!" You begged softly, hating the fact that he was working you up so much. But the need in your voice clearly affected him, he couldn't think straight any longer.

"Come here Kitten~" He purred holding out his hands to you, you jumped up before even taking his hands. A chuckle passed through his part lips before he kissed you roughly, backing you up into the wall. His hips firmly pressed into yours, causing you to gasp loudly into the kiss. Giving him time to slip his tongue in, slowly twirling around yours.God, he had such a talented tongue, and hands which were currently pushing your PJs bottoms off your hips. 

"Mmm," He moaned into your mouth, his fingertips stroking along your silk laced panties. Okay, maybe you were going to surprise him when he finally got home. In your defense, you haven't had sex in about a month and you so wanted him to want you."You got new panties? Just for me (Name)?" He smirks breaking the kiss before his hands slid your shirt up and over your head. "Mmm, I like it." His dark eyes, frighten and excited you all at once. You have never seen him like this before, but you loved it. His kissed down your chest, his hands resting in the small of your back pulling you closer to his lips as he got onto his knees.You gasp running your fingers through his short hair as his tongue traveling along the top of your silk panties. 

"T-tony." You moaned softly, tugging on his hair lightly. He growled seductively before easily sliding your panties over to push a finger into you, a soft groan coming from him.

"My god (Name) you are so wet." He panted softly, pumping his finger in and out of your quickly. Your breath caught in your throat as your head tipped back against the wall. Legs trembling turning to jello as your boyfriend worked on you.Soon even he couldn't hold back at he pulled his finger out licking it off slowly. "Always so tasty." He bites his lip as he slides your panties down your legs, god your legs were such a turn on to him. You still had your head back against the wall, eyes closed and whimper for more. You expected to feel his hands lifting on thigh over his shoulder and his tongue on your clit. But instead, he surprised you with removing his boxers and quickly standing putting your leg around his hip as he rammed into you. 

Both your mouths flying open, moaning loudly. He knew he wouldn't be lasting long, not after drawing it out so long. But to make sure you would finish with him, he slides his hand to roughly rub at your clit to the rhythm of his thrusts.Moan after moan slipped out of your mouth and into his ear as your nails dragged up and down his back. Leaving scratches and red marks with every swipe, which caused his hips to thrust harder. Reaching over to the small end table beside you for balance, you both quickly knocked it over. The rough thrust he was giving you easily vibrated the wall knocking over quite a few pictures.But neither of you cared, you could always clean later, right now you two danced on the edge of release. His thrust easily got sloppy and you could feel that familiar coil in your lower stomach heating up. 

"Tony, god! Ah! TONY!" You cried out as he finally pounded against that sweet spot inside you. Your legs were shaking violently, instead of giving you the chance to catch your balance he scooped up your other leg wrapping it around his waist.Sometimes you forgot how strong your boyfriend really was, he could easily lift you and throw you about, despite your weight. Intertwining your fingers into his hair once more, you yanked him into a rough kiss. Tongues battling for dominance as he roughly gave a few more thrusts into you. Your muscles clenching and tightening around him, letting out a cry of pure pleasure as he took you to heaven and back. 

With a few rougher, sloppy thrust he was seeing stars behind his closed eyes lids, groaning out your name. You both worked your hips lazily through your orgasms before panting roughly. Tony head buried in your neck, your head tipped back against the wall. Your chest rapidly pounding against each other, sweat covering every inch of your bodies.Despite his legs feeling as if they would give out any second he slowly carried you into the bedroom, careful to avoid the mess you both made. He laid you down on the bed, crawling in beside you still panting.

"You tell... anyone. I did that... our sex tape.. will go viral.." He panted softly, curling his body into yours. All you could do is nod as you were breathless. You smiled at him before chuckling softly. "What's so. funny?" He looked at your curiously, unsure why you were chuckling.

"You were better than the strippers on that movie, and I want another show." You managed to say all in one breath before your cheeks heated up. He smirks softly and kisses her quickly. His arms snaking around your body, pulling you to lay on him. You happily put your head on his chest, fingers softly touching the corners of his Arc Reactor.

"I want a show too." He whispered before closing his eyes, running a hand through your wet hair softly. All you did was a nod and slowly drift off on his chest.

~The Next Morning~

Steve and Natasha had begun to worry when Bruce told them Tony hasn’t been in the lab all morning. And the fact that you weren't bopping around the tower with your cheery attitude. They didn't know what could have happened, but Bruce remembered hearing a lot of crashes last night. Clearly thinking the worst they rushed up to Tony floor.

Once they saw the mess everywhere, they were afraid something had really happened. Steve rushed to look around before stopping in the doorway of the bedroom, his cheeks going flush. Natasha and Bruce ran to his side before Tony smirked at them and put his finger to his lips.You were still curled up on his chest with a thin blanket draped over both of your guys lower halves. But the part of your chest that wasn't pressed tight against Tony's side was in clear view of the other three Avengers.

Natasha chuckled softly before taking both of the blushing boys back to the elevator. "What the hell did they do to their apartment last night.." Steve mumbled before Bruce leaned over and whispered into his ear as his face paled. Natasha kept a smirk on her face, oh she was going to tease you forever now.

If you have any request don’t hesitate to send them :)

#Tony Stark x Reader #Tony stark #Tony stark smut #Reader insert #tony stark imagine #tony stark fanfiction #avengers imagine #smut #stark smut #tony stark x reader smut #lemon

[gldngrl7]

Karamel Fic: Edging Toward Synchronicity (3/8)

Title: Edging Towards Synchronicity

Author: gldngr7

Rating: Explicit

Began: March 11, 2017

Chapters:8

 Feedback:  Encouragement and constructive criticisms are always welcome.  Flames are destroyed with my freeze breath.  Intentional Anti hate is taken as encouragement and a challenge to up my game.

 Author’s Notes:

I’m not even kidding around anymore.  This story is about a journey to intimacy and that intimacy includes heavy elements of BDSM, Dominance/submission, and Daddy-kink.  If you know you’re not into that or interested in seeing more, walk away now.  Kid gloves are off, folks.

Dedicated to my fam member @mon-kai-el and dirty bitches squad (aka The Dark Side) whose dirty talk showed me that I could take the kid gloves off.  Stay thirsty, my friend.

For those of you who care…there is in fact a plot.  And it moves forward and everything!

PSA:  If there are any Babysubs out there who read this and think, ‘this is me’ and you don’t know what to do.  If you want to talk, message me.  It’s important that you know this:  THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH YOU!  Not a damn thing, and don’t ever let anyone tell you differently.

Tagging: @mon-kai-el, @actualpuppychriswood, @pwettypwita, @contygold86, @karamelizedlove, @kelbottumbles, @starcrossed-comets, @emarasmoak, @fangirlintheforest, @ships-sailing-in-the-night, @lostin-the-desert

       Oh, I know you're feeling insane

            Tell me something that I can explain, oh

                 I'll hit the lights and you lock the doors

                     Tell me all of the things that you couldn't before

       Don't walk away, don't roll your eyes

             They say love is pain, well darling, let's hurt tonight

                    If this love is pain, well darling, let's hurt, oh tonight

 --OneRepublic – “Let’s Hurt Tonight”

Chapter 3/8

The ear-splitting whistle of the teakettle cuts through the comfortable silence between them, causing Mon-El to recoil noticeably and kick starting Kara’s drive to tend to his psychological wounds.  Rushing back to the kitchen, she steeps two bags of chamomile, while adding several lumps of sugar to his cup.  She stirs his tea until the cubes lose their shape and become a grainy sludge at the bottom of the mug.

When Kara hands the steaming mug to Mon-El, he takes an immediate swig without regard to its boiling temperature, seeking the sweet comfort of sugar to combat the acrid taste that lingers on the back of his tongue. Thankfully, the bitter tang is already somewhat diminished, so the blast of sugar hitting his taste buds helps to erase the bizarre and unwelcome flavor.

He downs the cup in three gulps and takes it to the sink to rinse it out. “I think you’re right,” he says. “I think I’m going to take a hot shower and maybe call it a night.  It’s been a long day.”

Kara nods, sliding up onto one of the stools that sits under the kitchen island and takes a sip of her tea.  “It’s not every day a person becomes a superhero,” she comments after swallowing the hot liquid.  “It’s going to get harder for a while,” she continues.  “I just want you to be prepared.  My first few months weren’t exactly smooth sailing.  I made more than a few mistakes, and the media—Cat—covered them all.  But the people can be forgiving when you show them that your heart is in the right place. Just know that…I’m here for you for…whatever you need.”

Mon-El considers her words, her advice, and recognizing that she’s talking about more than just weathering the trials and tribulations of being a superhero.  He wonders just how long he can compartmentalize the increasing amounts of stimuli racing through his brain, without seeking help.  Curling his hand into his fist, he knocks his knuckles against the wooden surface of the kitchen island.  “I’ll keep that in mind,” he promises.  “Here’s to hoping they take it easy on me.  Gods know I’m nowhere near your league.  I’m not half the person you are, Kara.”

He walks away, leaving her speechless, her heart plummeting with sadness. Logically, she understands that survivor’s guilt can wreak havoc on a person’s self-worth—having had a singular experience with her own version of it.  And in the beginning of their acquaintance, she had steadfastly refused to look beyond the fear that driving his survival instincts to see the good in him, buried deep though it was.

He is from Daxam, a culture that raised the act of deliberate ignorance to an art form so duteous it made the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel look like a kindergartner’s finger painting.  He grew up inside all of that, within the court of the Crown Prince no less—the belly of the beast—and, so in the beginning she expected arrogance, entitlement, and stubborn resistance to the assimilation to an entirely new culture. And while it’s true that the dregs of that existed, she sees now that letting go of one’s culture and the throwing off of one’s upbringing is an undertaking much more easily discussed than accomplished.  Even after thirteen years, Kara herself has yet to accomplish the feat.

Kara mentally castigates herself.  She could begin by ceasing to refer to the Prince’s Court as ‘the belly of the beast’ even if only in her own head. That is merely the Kryptonian gossip of her hazy childhood memories talking, and already those types of thoughts have translated into action.  Daxam and Krypton are long gone, and it is time both of them put their pasts in the rearview mirror.  For Kara that means letting go of the things she learned about Daxam in her formative years so that she can stop associating them with the man she loves.  As his lover—his mate—she must stop punishing him for any actions long past from which he clearly wishes to disassociate.

For Mon-El, putting his past away will be a much more visceral experience, she fears.  She will have to use every tool in her shed to help him through it, if his breakdown this evening was any indication.  Finishing her cup of tea, an idea strikes while she’s rinsing out the mug and setting it out to dry.  She hears the music from the radio in her…their…bathroom turn on, and Kara whispers her gratitude to Rao because the extra noise should serve her purpose.

Digging into her purse, she retrieves her phone and flips through her recent calls before pressing ‘send’.  Eliza’s warm voice answers on the first ring as though she has been awaiting Kara’s call.

“Kara, honey, is everything all right?” she asks, and Kara cringes when she checks her watch and sees how late it is.  It must worry her mother when the phone rings this late.

“I’m sorry,” she winces, “I wasn’t paying attention to the time.”

“It’s fine,” Eliza replies.  “As long as you’re okay.”  Kara is practically invulnerable to harm and still her adoptive mother worries for her. She cringes at the realization and thinks that if Eliza gets this worried about Kara, then thoughts of Alex’s well-being must keep her up nights. Almost by instinct, Kara’s hand drifts down her belly, and she marvels at the mere concept of being a mother and what that might mean.  Tossing and turning each night over imaginary scenarios of her child in danger?  Could she handle it?  Was she strong enough for that?

“Honey, are you still there?”

“Still here,” she answers, quickly shaking off thoughts that are too premature to be entertained seriously.  “I was hoping I could talk to you about something.”

“Is it about what we talked about before?  Have you—“

“Not yet,” she interjects.  “It’s about the other thing.”

“Ah,” her mother sighs.

“I asked Mon-El to move in with me,” she begins.  Kara cringes slightly.  She hasn’t taken a moment to consider what her mother might think of her recent decision to cohabitate with her boyfriend.  “I don’t think it has been good for him, living in the DEO.  As long as he was there he was never going to make this place his home.  Not when he has to live under a curfew and be treated like a threat,” she rationalizes, providing reasons that she hopes her mother will be able to find acceptable from a logical standpoint.

“And because you love him,” her mother counters, taking Kara by surprise. “Because that’s the only reason that matters, honey.”

“Yes, of course,” Kara replies.  As if she could fool her astute mother otherwise!  Just as Eliza had understood Mon-El’s masked interest in Kara during their Thanksgiving get-together, Eliza had probably comprehended the depth of Kara’s feelings long before she had.  Confessing her feelings aloud now, for the first time, makes them seem somehow more real and raises the stakes even higher.  “But something happened when we got back to the loft tonight.  He had a...” Kara grasps for the right word that doesn’t make it sound like the man she loves needs a padded cell, before recalling the word she heard Eliza use on multiple occasions when discussing her.  “An episode,” she says.  “He was back there…seeing things.”

“First of all…are you okay?” Eliza asks anxiously.  “Did he say anything or do anything to hurt you?”

“No,” Kara denies.  “Of course not.”

“Good.  People don’t know what’s happening when they have trauma-induced flashbacks.  It’s a fugue state, Kara.  It’s so real, he could lash out to protect himself or say things…not intended for you.”

“I’m fine,” she assures her mother.  “I’m worried about him though.”

“Of course you are.”

“It’s just that…I told him that I could help…that I know what to do. But the truth is, I don’t.  I remember being where he is but not how it got better.  Not really. I just remember you and Alex being there…all the time.”  Kara’s emotions en masse well within her: fear for Mon-El, anxiety over being what he needs, being enough, and gratitude that she has someone to talk to who has walked this path before.

“I knew when we adopted you that, with your history, re-entry would be difficult for you.  I talked to specialists and read books about dealing with post-traumatic stress.”

“What should I do?”  Kara breathes, a lump rising in her throat.

“Don’t push him to talk about it,” Eliza answers.

“Okay,” she says, disappointed.  “We’ll call that strike one.”

“It’s okay,” her mother reassures her.  “Don’t push him to talk, but let him know, in no uncertain terms, that you are there to listen if he does want to talk,” she advises.  “When he opens up…try to avoid making promises like ‘it’s going to be okay’. Being ‘okay’ isn’t always what people with survivor’s guilt want—not right away.  They often see the guilt and the reflection as something they deserve for having the audacity to survive.  Try to avoid casting judgments on his actions.  It’s a rare individual who can be their best self when under that kind of duress.  Most of us wouldn’t hold up under scrutiny in the kind of situation he faced, without warning and without the mental training or acclimation to that kind of stress.”

Kara’s mind races as she commits her mother’s words of advice to memory. “But it sounds like it’s my job…to do nothing?”

“Oh that’s not true, honey.  Do things with him you normally do together.  Encourage him to socialize, to be active.  Find activities that work for both of you.  Building camaraderie can work wonders.  Why do you think I always made Alex take you with her when she went to hang out with her friends?  Or that time I signed you up for soccer, so you could be part of a team.”

“That was a disaster!”  Kara exclaimed.  “I broke Jenny Sauer’s nose, and she had to miss the eighth grade dance.”

“That little snot had it coming,” Eliza snaps protectively. “After the mean things she said to you, she’s lucky I didn’t break her nose!”

“Mom!”  Kara gawps, shocked by her adoptive mother’s uncharacteristic outburst.

“I’m sorry, but that girl brought it on herself,” Eliza defensively justifies.

“She was offsides, and it was just trash talk. She didn’t mean anything by it.”

“A mother doesn’t distinguish.  The point is, Kara, that you began building a life again, to make attachments here beyond Jeremiah, Alex, and myself.  I remember that you started sleeping better after that.”

“I remember too,” Kara echoes, her mouth lifting in a half smile. There’s a moment of silence on the line that lasts long enough for Kara to wonder if the call has dropped.

“It takes a toll, honey,” her mother finally says, her tone one of uneasy warning.  “You should be aware of what you’re getting into.  In many ways…leading them out of the dark is just as hard on us as it is on them.  But you can’t give up,” she cautions.  “He won’t get better overnight—that will never happen—but if you keep being there for him, keep loving him, eventually you’ll look up one day and realize he hasn’t had a flashback in a while or didn’t flinch during the last thunderstorm, and it will feel like it happened overnight. You have to be patient,” Eliza added. “And know that there will be setbacks.”

“It was so scary,” she admits, letting down her guard a little bit more.  “It was like he wasn’t really here with me.  I didn’t think I would be able to reach him.”

“But you did, and that’s what matters.  He’s been repressing for a long time.  You never really did that.  For you…there was always the thousand-yard stare—the haunted look in your eyes—right from the start.  But when you had episodes you were nearly impossible to reach.  I’m afraid I didn’t provide enough of a connection for you, enough of a lure to draw you back to reality.”

“That’s not true,” Kara claims, catching the strains of hurt in Eliza’s voice and wishing to alleviate it.

“It’s all right, Kara,” Eliza reassures.  “I was under no delusions then.  We got there eventually, but we had to survive the worst of the fallout first.  Unlike our situation, you have the advantage with Mon-El, honey.  He would do anything for you, if you only ask.  I have no doubt that includes trying his hardest to get well.”

“I just hope that doesn’t hurt more than help.”

“When you fall in love with someone, Kara, their pains become your pains and their joy, your joy.  The joy part is easy,” Eliza finishes, leaving Kara to draw her own conclusion about the painful parts of a relationship.

“I’m beginning to see that,” Kara acknowledges.  “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate all of your advice.”

“Anytime, honey.  What’s a mother for?” she breezes with a chuckle as though happy just to be of help.

“Mom?”

“Yes, Kara?”

“We’re still getting there.  More and more all the time.”

“I love you, Kara,” she says softly.

“I love you, too.  Talk to you soon.”  She finishes exchanging her farewells with her mother and ends the call.  She plugs her phone into the charger on the back wall of the kitchen counter for the night, then wonders what to do next.

  ****

 The tea helped to relieve the bitter taste that resided in the back of his mouth from the onset of his vivid waking nightmare.  But it did nothing to ease the lingering tension that still plagues his larger muscle groups.  His thighs and upper back twitch and tremble in unpredictable intervals. He’s anxious to escape the laser-like scrutiny Kara focuses upon him, as though she expects him to shatter to pieces at any moment.

Perhaps he might, and he silently prays to every god he’s ever heard of that if it does happen, it won’t happen in front of her.

“But she’s the one you’ll need!”  Ral groans, frustrated.  “You’re going to want her to be there when you break.”

Mon-El closes the bathroom door behind him and turns to find Ral sitting on the counter, his legs dangling a foot from the ground.  Mon-El opens his mouth to speak and then throws a glance at the door.  There’s a radio-box on the counter; he’s heard Kara listen to the box when she showers sometimes.  Mon-El examines the device and finds the power symbol so prevalent on the technical devices of Earth and presses the accompanying button.  The radio-box blares to life, playing a song by someone named Ariana that he recognizes from the larger radio-box at the bar.  It used to play a lot – back before the attack by Cadmus – on Friday nights when spirits were high and patrons wanted to dance. Mon-El turns the volume up two more notches.

“Yeah, her super hearing won’t be able to cut through that,” Ral smirks.

“She doesn’t eavesdrop,” Mon-El tells Ral…and himself.  “Now…why?”

“Why, what?”  Ral rejoins. His eyes widen, his eyebrows climbing his forehead, perhaps a little too comically for the tension of the situation.

“You said I’d want her there.  Why?”  Mon-El demanded through clenched teeth.

Ral shrugs.  “I don’t know.”

“You don’t--?  I thought...”

“You thought…what?  That I know everything?  Don’t be an idiot; I’m not Bask sitting on the throne of Val-Or.  I don’t know all, Brother.  I know what you know.”

“But you said...” Mon-El trails off, his mind trying to weave his conscious mind through the maze created by his subconscious.

“You don’t want to go there, my friend.  Not yet,” Ral warns.  “It’s best if these things happen on their own timeline.  Stick with what you already know.”

“Like the waking nightmare?”

“It’s really begun now,” the hallucination declares, his face growing sadder.  Ral shrugs, resigned.  “You can avoid sleep if you like.  It’s up to you.  But the memories will come anyway now.  A dam has been breached.  Let’s pray to the gods what comes next is a slow leak and not a flash flood.”

“Memories?”  Mon-El asks, his brow creasing with confusion.  “That’s not how it happened.”

“Isn’t it?”  Ral answers cryptically.

“But you put me in the pod,” Mon-El reminds his step-brother.  “You put me into the pod and then went back for her. To be with her.”

“Hmmm,” Ral hums, his answer refusing to commit one way or another to Mon-El’s assertion.  “I did say that, didn’t I?”

Mon-El swallows, trying not to choke on the emotion that threatens to overwhelm.  “Was there ever a girl?” he asks.

“Maybe,” Ral answers.  “Probably? But if there was…I never made it back for her.”

“Gods,” he moans, dropping his chin to his chest as his mind flashes to the memory of Ral’s death.  He could see it, hear it, and smell it as if he was there, but it is still too unreal to be believed, like a mirage that fades away when he gets too close.

“You won’t feel it yet,” Ral promises, placing a hand on Mon-El’s shoulder as he leans against the counter.  “But now you know.”

“Why?”  Mon-El inquires.  “Why have you hidden this truth from me?”

“Because…sometimes truths are meant to be delivered in their own time. When they’re ready to be heard and not a moment before.”

“Truths?” Mon-El ponders, a sliver of fear lancing his heart.

“A single truth would be so simple, wouldn’t it?”  Ral answers with a question, his hand gripping at Mon-El’s shoulder as if it’s tethering him to the same plane of existence.  “And you and I both know that life is rarely simple, no matter how much we try to change ourselves to make it so.”

“Why can’t I just…go on?” Mon-El asks, rubbing his temples.  His head hurts, pounding like the clang of metal on metal.  “What’s wrong with forgetting that day?”

“Because then there will always be a part of you missing.  Whether you remember everything or not, even now it’s shaping who you are…who you’re becoming.  As much as you tell yourself that the man who pulled that car from the edge of a bridge exists because of Kara, that’s not entirely true.  And soon you’ll know why.  But don’t worry about when it will happen.  I’ll make sure it happens at the right place at the right time. Leave it to me.”

Ral vaporizes the second Mon-El blinks – there one second and gone the next. “Great,” he sighs, unable to shake off the overwhelming feeling of encroaching doom.  It’s just him and The Weeknd in the bathroom now.

He’s spent too long here without taking the shower he claimed he was after when he excused himself from her stifling scrutiny.  Opening the glass door of the shower, he spins the dial for hot water until it will turn no more and waits for steam to fill the chamber while he disrobes.  His clothing comes off piece by piece, his body moving like that of a weary old man as though he’s aged a century in the last day.

The buzz of the electricity he absorbed in the early hours of this morning, which had sustained him throughout the day, has long since dissipated, perhaps in part due to the waking nightmare…memory, he relived.  He feels his body’s need to rest pressing in on him with all of the inevitable inescapability of a stasis sleep taken before a deep space jump.  He can no longer afford to avoid sleep.  If Ral is correct, the memories and visions will come whether he sleeps or not, and he’d rather avoid being in the thick of things when they do.  Sleep it is, but first the shower to help him ease the tension wreaking havoc on his body.

Stepping under the spray, Mon-El feels the heat of the water but not the sting. How he misses the sting!  The feeling of water beating down on him, hot enough to turn his skin the color of the Daxam sunrise.  Breathing the steam deeply into his lungs, he savors the heated exhale of it, feeling more cleansed with each breath.  But still the muscles of his back, along his spine and shoulders, twitch in an annoying manner as though he is a rebellious puppet on strings that refuses to dance to its master’s tune.

After being shot during his incarceration by Cadmus he’d felt like this, albeit to a lesser extent.  His blood had pumped through him so fast, soaked up by his jeans, that it set his heart to racing.  For hours after they had made their escape and were returned to the DEO, he’d shivered without feeling cold, teeth chattering while his wounded leg twitching painfully.  Adrenaline, the physician had said, explaining that during traumatic experiences the system floods with the chemical, telling the body it’s in danger and attempting to provide it with the physiological tools needed to protect itself. Even once safety is reached, the chemical remains in the blood, oftentimes for hours, even days afterwards. It also has the added ‘benefit’ of searing memories of traumatic events into the mind like a slaver’s brand upon the skin, making them easier to recall and in greater, richer detail.

Taking a few minutes, he soaps up one of Kara’s fluffy, frilly sponges and hits all the important spots with the suds, until he feels quite overtaken by foam.  This isn’t the utilitarian all-in-one soap provided in the showers at the DEO, he is certain from its purple hue when in the bottle – so he refrains from lathering his hair.  He could take care of that tomorrow.  Ready to rinse, Mon-El shifts until the pulsing stream of water beats down upon the top of his scalp, where the dull throb of his headache stubbornly refuses to be shaken loose.

Water easily defeats the delicate bubbles, sending them retreating down the hard exterior of his body and legs until they’re circling the drain at his feet.  After a moment, he drops his chin to his chest so that the scorching stream of water funnels at the base of his skull and to his neck before planing down his powerfully built back.

Senses still on heightened alert, Mon-El hears the bathroom door click open over the sound of the radio blaring Justin Bieber’s ‘Let Me Love You’, feels the breeze of cooler air entering the room.  He keeps perfectly still as she opens the glass door the bare minimum to admit her and slips inside the shower stall.  The space wouldn’t be enough for the both of them were there any concerns in regards to personal space.  Luckily for them, there are not.

“Hey,” he says, acknowledging her presence without turning around.  Her hands brush against his hips with a feather light touch, an entreaty, before gliding up his back to rest on his shoulders.

“I thought I’d join you,” her voice whispers.  “You don’t mind, do you?”  Kara leans into him so close the front of her legs brush against the back of his thighs.  Her belly lays flush against the compact muscles of his ass as she places open-mouthed kisses on the tension-riddled path of his spine.

“How could I mind this?”  Mon-El pushes away from the wall and presses his back more firmly against hers, wrapping his other arm around until it lands on the back of her thigh. He turns his head to the side until he can almost feel her breath on his cheek.

With her lightest stroke, caressing him is like caressing granite. Even in the face of her loving touch, every part of him is unyielding, and Kara knows that’s not because he wants it that way.  “You’re so tense,” she observes.

“I know,” he says, disturbed because the hot shower has seemingly had no effect on the state of his body.  “I’m sorry.  It must be from the...”

“Can I help you?” she asks, tentatively.  “Will you let me help you?”

“How?” he sighs, unsure that anything can help at this stage.  He wonders if he’ll ever be able to relax again or if this apparent state of heightened alert is his new normal.

Taking hold of his wrist, she removes his hand from her thigh and directs it elsewhere.  “Place your hands on the wall,” she instructs.

“Am I under arrest, officer?” he jokes.

After a delicate snort that brings a smile to his face, she says, “You’ve been watching too many cop shows.”

Mon-El does as she instructs, admittedly a novelty when they’re both naked, unsure of what to expect.  The feeling of her thumbs digging into his trapezius muscles was nowhere on his list of possibilities – but it should have been at the very top. Her x-ray vision is unable to discern individual muscles, and yet she’s able to locate the knots beneath his impenetrable skin with pinpoint accuracy.  The pressure she applies would crumple titanium, but instead it’s slowly loosening the knots of restrained emotion, to which his muscles seem desperate to cling.

“Gods, Kara,” he moans, the dissipation of tension feeling so good and her hands on him feeling even better.  In fact, it feels so good he can’t keep the words, “Don’t stop,” from slipping out.

“I won’t,” she promises.  Proving her vow, her thumbs move lower, to his middle back, applying their heavenly pressure to his lats.  “Is this helping?” she asks, hopefully.  Even without looking, he can practically see her biting down on her lower lip in that way she does when she isn’t certain about something.

Mon-El’s breath catches as she finds a particularly nasty ball of tension and goes to town on it.  “You have no idea,” he groans, relishing the pain she provides, as if it’s resurrecting him from the stupor he’s been in for the last half hour.  “Harder,” he begs.

“Really?” she clarifies.

“Yes, harder.”  When she complies, his breathing shifts to a heavy pant, and he bites down on his lower lip with a grimace.  He’s going to bruise, at least for a few hours, but he doesn’t mind in the slightest. She spends a few minutes working her way back up his back to his shoulders before spearing her hands into his hair and massaging his scalp from the top of his head to the junction point at the base of his skull.  When her hands glide down his now relaxed back, signaling that she is done, Mon-El declares, “Kara Zor-El, have I told you lately that you are a goddess?”

Peppering his tended back with kisses, Kara slides her hands around his waist and upward until they come to a rest on his chest, over his heart.  Mon-El removes one hand from the wall to cover them, lacing their fingers together.

Kara’s unoccupied hand drifts down from his chest, past his abdomen until her fingers find the light trail of fur that leads exactly where she wants to go – but doesn’t.  She caresses his shoulder blade with the tip of her nose and brief brushes of her lips before placing a series of open-mouthed kisses there.  “Would you like me to take care of the front now?” she asks, delicately twirling her fingers through the hair on his lower belly.

Her innuendo—her presence—has his body stirring at the speed of light.  His cock twitches in anticipation, already at half-staff since shortly after she joined him. “So what are you waiting for?” he inquires, his voice lowering to a rich challenge.

“You know,” she replies.

Mon-El reaches for the hand on his lower belly, grasping it as he spins around to face her and places her hand on his shoulder.  Grabbing her hips, he tugs her flush against his body and backs her up until she is sandwiched between the hard planes of his body and the cool tiles of the shower.  His lips swoop down upon hers, taking, drinking, mining for the taste of her, before she has even a chance to protest.  Not that she ever would.

Kara melts into him, her knees losing their will to hold her up. She would slide down the wall into a heap on the tile floor, were his body not trapping her right where she is. With a mind of their own, her hands grip at any part of his shoulders and back she can reach, fingernails searching for purchase as his tongue and lips transfer their focus to the long, sensitive column of her neck.  As if he has every right…he takes her breath away.

His hips tilt slowly, torturously against her belly as he lays ruthless siege to her neck, his cock seeking her wet heat but settling for the satiny softness of her skin instead.  One of Kara’s legs steals around his, her ankle hooking around the back of his calf and traveling up and up until her knee is draped over his hip, opening herself up to him.  Heat races through her, lighting a white-hot blaze under her skin, burning through her self-control like a wildfire.  This has been her endgame all along when she’d decided to join him in the shower, but she hadn’t intended to dissolve into a jellied mass of need and desire quite so soon.  She should know better by now.  “Mon-El,” she gasps, instinctively canting her hips against his, seeking fulfillment.

He knows what brought her here – why she slipped into his shower and interrupted his solitude.  She is afraid for him.  Fears what might happen if she should leave him alone to his thoughts and ruminations, and he can’t say he’s not a little bit afraid as well.  With some degree of difficulty, he tears his lips from the soft divot of flesh where her chest and neck converge.

He leans his forehead against hers, cupping the back of her head with both hands.  “Tell me why you came in here, Kara?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“To distract me?”  Mon-El pulls back, seeking eye contact.  Kara obliges him by tilting her head further back, slackening her neck so that the weight of her head is cradled completely in his hands.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” she confirms.  “But if you want to, I’m always here to listen.  I’m here for you…in any way that you need me. I just wanted to remind you that you’re not in this alone.”  Her own fingers slide up his chest until they frame both sides of his face.

“By offering me your body?”  His head tilts to the side, finding this tactic curious.

“By being what you need,” she counters.  “Aren’t you always worried about being what I need?  If I’m your mate, shouldn’t I do the same, Mon-El?”

He shakes his head slightly.  “Kara, I’ve always wanted to be what you need.  It’s what I work so hard for…but you should know…I have no idea what I’m doing.  I don’t know what it was like on Krypton, but couples on Daxam didn’t have those sorts of relationships.  We were latched to people to consolidate power and gain influence – for most, it was a business arrangement and nothing more.  When we chose to mate with someone, outside of a latching union, it was usually merely a physical bonding.  Neither was based in…based in...”

“Intimacy?”

“Yeah…that.”

Kara’s forehead gathers together, a deep crinkle appearing between her eyebrows.  Part of her wants to place some distance between them, afraid of the answer to the question on the tip of her tongue, but there’s nowhere for her to go.  “Does it bother you?  The intimacy between us?”

“Kara,” he sighs.  “How can you ask me that?  Do I seem dissatisfied to you?  I tell you this only to help you understand.  My culture compartmentalizes these things.  When a man needs the kind of thing you’re suggesting, he doesn’t go to his latch-mate…he finds someone else…someone willing…to use.”

A dark shadow crosses her eyes, and they squint into hard ice-like chips of blue.  “Well, if you found someone else to use, I would kill you.  So that’s never going to happen.  It may have been that way on Daxam, but on Krypton, and on Earth it’s the opposite. Here we promise ‘for better or for worse’.”

Mon-El’s eyes widen.  He’s seen enough of Earth’s entertainment programs to recognize those words and their inherent meaning.  They speak of mating and of choosing a more permanent bond with implications of expanding the familial unit, but he’s never dared dream that she would bind herself to him in such a way.  “Isn’t that from the Earth commitment pledge?”  The question spills out before he can stop it.

Kara’s face freezes.  Isn’t this what they have been talking about all this time?  Choosing and mating?  Isn’t that where it’s all been leading?  Doubt floods her, and her eyes dart away from his.

It’s not easy to miss the uncertainty filling her eyes, and it occurs to Mon-El that while he hasn’t dared to hope for more than what lay between them, her mind has already gone there and planted that seed.  He rushes to assuage her doubt in hopes of putting it to rest. “I just never thought you would want that…with me.”

“Mon-El!” she chastises, unable to believe the abhorrence laced throughout his words and their tone.  Abhorrence for himself.  She knows this, the survivor’s guilt talking—she’s experienced it enough herself to recognize it—but still it hurts her to see it.  “Don’t ever say that!” she instructs.

 “Kara, there are things you don’t know about me.  There are things I don’t know about me.  Tonight, I remembered for the first time that my stepbrother died right in front of me.”

“Sometimes the mind blocks out what it isn’t ready to handle,” she explains.

“Yes, but…what else have I forgotten?  How can I ask you to pledge yourself to me when there are so many unknowns?”

“I know enough,” she insists.

But she doesn’t know enough, Mon-El thinks, not by a long shot.  How does he tell her that he has regular conversations with a dead man?  How does he tell her the truth about who he is, about what his father did to him? How does he tell her the thing about him that made his peculiarity merely tolerated among his people – all but Ral?  How can he bear to see the inevitable disgust in her eyes?

He wishes he could forget those things, block them out like the too-horrible-to-be-recalled circumstances of Ral’s death.  He would gladly trade every last horrific memory of the Fall of Daxam in exchange for forgetting the thing he would cut from himself if he could. “You say that now, but you hated everything about Daxam when we first met.  Everything about the kind of life I led back there.  You should know…I wasn’t just a bystander in that life.  I was a blissful participant—blissfully ignorant, maybe—but blissful nonetheless.  What if...”

“Would you go back if you could?” she questions, almost an interrogation. His mouth opens and closes in surprise, having not expected that question. “Well…would you?”

He considers carefully the almost intentional aimlessness of the life he had there and the emptiness it fostered inside of him.  His duties, the expectations placed upon him that had nothing to do with his desires, as though what he needed meant nothing at all.  He is still building a life here, and there are more than a few bricks missing, but with Kara he feels a solid foundation beneath his feet for the first time in his life.  But for all of its absent pieces, the blanks waiting to be filled in, he is happier here than he ever could have imagined being on Daxam.  Contentment is a feeling for which he has no frame of reference before arriving on Earth and falling for Kara.  “No,” he declares confidently.  “I would never go back to that life.  Even if I could.  My life is right here,” he says, stroking her cheek.

Lifting up she captures his lips with hers, as Mon-El reciprocates with equal fervor; soft lips meeting firm pressure with fiery intent.  The forgotten shower water, slowly losing heat throughout their conversation, finally gives up the last dregs of its tepid warmth turning cold against their skin.  Not uncomfortable but neither is it conducive to their activities.  Blindly, Mon-El reaches behind him, his hand fumbling for the spigot before finally turning it until the water drips to a halt. Reluctantly, Kara drags her contented lips from his, her breath coming in shaky gasp.  “Show me,” she demands, a hint of challenge in her voice.  “Let me be what you need.  Tell me what you need.”

“Just you,” he says.  “No games tonight, okay?”

Kara nods in agreement, reading the vulnerability in his eyes. “No games.  Just us.”

Grabbing the backs of her thighs he lifts her until her legs drape of their own accord around his hips, her ankles locking together as her arms encircle his neck.  Mon-El pushes open the shower door with his foot, lips and tongue tasting hers as he maneuvers them from the crowded room and to the bed.

TBC

 ****

#karamel fic #hanging on letting go series