'And there’s fantasy, there’s fallacy' My first sub!Michael fic. Written for clarounette, for her prompt from the Autumn Extravaganza: ‘Prison AU: Michael is a criminal in prison, and James is his guard. You can take it from here wherever you want.’ Thanks to significantowl and kageillusionz for betaing for me. <3 On LiveJournal & AO3. Preview below.
Michael had been stripped of his jumpsuit and laid completely bare on the narrow bed. James had removed his shirt, leaving him in only a simple, white tank top, and undone his pants before securing Michael to the bed. The air of the room had been cool against his skin, a contrast to James’ hands which sparked warmth wherever they touched and teased, preparing and opening Michael, just barely on the edge of pleasure and pain.
Michael closed his eyes, the cold metal of the cuffs tight against his wrists, straining against the frame of the bed which groaned with each of James’ thrusts. His hands gripped Michael’s hips, potentially leaving bruises that would last for days, as he held him in place. For several minutes the only sound was that of skin slapping against skin— James’ thrusts rough and relentless—and Michael’s shallow panting. One of James’ hands came up, snaking around Michael’s neck and squeezing tightly.
"Eyes open," he commanded.
I’ve cleaned up and posted some of my Johnny/Paul ficlets from tumblr to AO3. I decided to post them in a set with the previously posted ficlet ‘Just to hear him play’ The entire set is called ‘Currency of love’ and I’ll add more ficlets as I write them.
It was the reason he kept coming back.
Paul comes home and takes care of Johnny.
Johnny knows Paul will come home to him eventually. He can and will wait. Paul has other plans.
Mallory keeps her promise.
James tugged at his jacket, buttoning it up and watching the buttons strain against the holes. He huffed, pulling at the jacket again to force the buttons to their normal place.
"What’s wrong?" Michael asked.
"The jacket’s not fitting right. Maybe it shrunk?"
"Maybe, but I doubt it."
James turned to him, frowning as he let go of the jacket. Michael walked over and unbuttoned it, careful not to strain the fabric or buttons any more than they’d already had.
"You look fine without it buttoned," he said, rubbing his hand over James’ stomach.
James put his hand on Michael’s.
"What’s wrong?" Michael asked.
"I know I said I want to go and I do, but… I’m there to be your arm candy and I just… I look… silly," James replied.
"You look wonderful. You’re not just my arm candy. You’re my pregnant fiancé and I love you. And if you’d rather not go, that’s fine. I can go alone. I won’t hold it against you, if you’ve changed your mind."
James nodded. Michael pulled him into a hug, holding him close.
James woke up early all on his own the day of the premiere. Tried to force himself back to sleep and when that failed quietly climbed out of bed, leaving Michael to sleep.
A half hour later, Michael found him in the main room mid-yoga pose.
"James," he said.
"Hmm…" James replied, staying in the pose.
"Are you okay?"
James stood normally from the pose as Michael walked over to him.
"Have you had breakfast yet?" he asked, wrapping his arms around James and holding him close.
"No, I was waiting for you," James replied, wrapping his arms around Michael’s waist and ducking his head under Michael’s chin.
Michael rubbed his hand along James’ back and kissed the top of his head.
Here’s the Cherik family fic I’ve been working on. Warning: It is mpreg.
Admittedly, he’d been a bit lax when it came to his own workouts lately. But he’d been busy making phone calls and making plans for the school, the future they all wanted, a safe haven for others like them. So maybe he had put on a bit of weight and maybe he’d been more prone to snacking lately, but long phone calls and hours spent designing new wings and turning rooms into classrooms and dorms left him little time for a proper lunch. It didn’t mean he was fat. Nor was he currently sulking. He’d just wanted to be alone after overhearing Sean and Alex discussing how fat he’d gotten recently. He was not fat, thank you very much. He nibbled at one of the cookies he kept in his desk drawer, the sweet treat doing nothing to help his mood.
"Charles?" Erik asked, peeking into the room.
Charles motioned him in, hand over his mouth as he finished chewing and brushed the crumbs from his lips.
"Everything okay?" Erik asked.
"Do you think I’ve put on weight?"
"Is this a trick question?"
Erik walked over to Charles, standing over him as he spoke.
"Maybe a little bit, but it’s the good kind of weight gain. You look healthy."
He leaned down and kissed Charles, gently patting his stomach.
"Did something happen?"
"I… overheard Sean and Alex talking about me. They may have suggested I was… fat."
"You are not fat. Ignore them. If you’d like, I can talk to them."
"No. I’m just being… I’m sorry."
"No need to be sorry. I love you, no matter what. Remember that."
Two days before their trip to Scotland, James and Michael had one more doctor’s appointment. While waiting for Dr. Griffon, James sat upon the exam table, rubbing at his stomach, the action not the same soothing motion he found himself normally doing throughout the day.
"You okay?" Michael asked, reaching over to place his hand on James’ hand and keep him from rubbing too roughly.
"Yeah. I think my body finally realized I’d gained weight without its permission and is retaliating."
"That’s normal. Your body is adjusting," Dr. Griffon said, as he entered the room, James’ chart held in his hand.
"Even the itching?"
"Yes. There are creams you can buy that help with the itching and stretch marks."
"Good to know. Thank you."
Dr. Griffon nodded.
"So, any other concerns?" he asked.
"Nope. Only want to make sure they’re okay before the trip."
Here’s my Secret Mutant entry, now that Author/Artist reveals are open!
Charles tried to be cheerful, think of happy things, tried not to dwell on the fact that it’d been over a year since he’d last had the use of his legs, since Raven had left, since he’d last seen or heard from Erik. The letter he’d received last Christmas still sat in the top drawer of his desk, read too many times, Charles foolishly hoping for different words to appear on the page. He’d finally stopped reading it sometime back in February or maybe it’d been March. A part of Charles hoped no letter would come this year. There was nothing more for Erik to say to him. Maybe then his heart would finally get the memo and let him move on. That was the downside to telepathy. Nothing to be done for a broken heart.
"Charles," Hank said.
"Yes, sorry," Charles said, coming out of his head.
They were on set, wet and muddy. Michael saw him across the way, sitting in a ditch smiling at the person he’d been sitting next to and laughing. Michael’d been on his own, wishing he could go join them, could use the conversation and company. Looked to the director, who was already turning his attention back to them. When he looked back, James was looking his way and offered a smile as the director told them they’d do another take.
When James had called asking Michael to meet him for drinks, Michael’d said yes. He missed James, had been a few weeks (nearly a month) since he’d last seen him. Though he maybe shouldn’t have mentioned his Christmas plans or lack thereof.
"Oh come on, Mike. You can’t spend Christmas alone," James said.
"I’ll be fine. Really," Michael replied.
"I won’t take no for an answer. You have to come over."
"To Christmas, with you and your wife and son."
"You’re my best friend, which makes you practically family. Anne-Marie won’t mind and Brendan will be happy to see you. You always know how to entertain him."
"As fun as that sounds, I’ll be fine."
"And what are you going to do? Stay home alone? Go to the pub?"