#I type too fast for that shit my thumbs are flying

[mrchiipchrome]

Misophonia

W.C.- 2.7k

Happy birthday to meeeeee

——————

It was no secret in the world of women’s football that you and Kyra Cooney-Cross were everyone’s unofficial little sisters. The younger of the two, you, had been moved up from the Arsenal academy at the same time that Kyra joined, and the unfamiliarity of the new team that you were suddenly thrown into made you two bond fast. Really fast.

Within 5 minutes of meeting the other, you had managed to plan at least 4 pranks to perform on the girls. Through Kyra, you also became much closer to the aussies of the team, just a sort of natural consequence of hanging around the Aussie all day. She was like your older, but just as mature as you, sister.

By month 3 of knowing each other, you and Kyra had managed to find every single button to press to make the other go completely mad. For Kyra, the main thing that set her off was when you tapped your feet against the floor repeatedly. For you it was whenever anyone made any type of noise with their mouths, with the obvious exception of speaking.

It just made you so irrationally mad, especially when someone was chewing all up in your ear, the sound so revolting that you often shouted for them to get away. Most of the team had learned their lessons already and knew not to even try to chew loudly near you, as you’d put your headphones on and ignore them for most of the day.

Kyra however, being the annoying little shit (lovingly) that she was, continued to do it every single second that she could, her favourite being when she knew that you couldn’t do anything about it, like in meetings.

She’d sit in the seat right behind you, leaning her head forward so that her chin would rest against your shoulder, and start to snack loudly on a granola bar or smacking her gum. The only thing you could do was sit there and take it, clenching your fist and wondering what it was you’d send in the text to Mini later that evening.

When Kyra would get told off by her team mom later that night she always looked at you, moving her thumb over her throat, telling you that you were dead.

But yet she kept on doing it, and you kept on telling Mini, it happened so often in fact that you too created a special bond with the older woman, her becoming a somewhat mother to you too. You always joined in on their facetime calls, Harper greatly appreciating you too.

Mini liked that Kyra had someone to goof around with at Arsenal, even if it did happen to be a 16 year old kid.

And as much as you liked and worked well with Kyra, not a single adult at Arsenal thought it was a good idea for you two to live with each other, no matter how much you begged and pleaded with them. Instead you were sent to live with Beth and Viv, whilst Kyra got her own apartment. That didn’t stop you from having sleepovers once a week however.

—------

Kyra breathing loudly directly beside your ear is the first thing you notice as you wake up from your nap in the community room at Arsenal, all groggy and confused, yet already annoyed by the girl’s incessant need to irritate you.

“Man, get the fuck out my ear!” Your voice is all scratchy and deep as you shout at the other girl, annoyance at her actions showing clearly on your face. More than a few heads snap up to look in your direction, quickly looking away when they notice the situation you find yourself in, many of them already knowing what the Aussie was doing.

“Awe is wittle baby Y/n a bit cranky from their nap?” Kyra antagonizes, trying to fuel the fire that was sure to start if she continued.

“You do remember that I know where you live? I can easily smother you in your sleep.” The girl’s knew to separate the two of you when the threats started flying, knowing that it could end with you two on the floor, wrestling or trying to strangle the other.

Alessia put her arm around a smiling Kyra’s waist, pulling her away from you even as she continued to breathe loudly, annoying you all the way from across the room. Viv sat down next to you on the bean bag, looking slightly irritated at your little outburst. She knew it wasn’t really your fault, but you’d been working with her on how to regulate your feelings.

“Y/n, we don’t threaten our friends, even when they’re being annoying. How about you go and apologise to Kyra and we’ll go get you some ice cream?” The dutchie was one of your many adoptive mothers in the squad, one of the more prominent ones as she knew exactly the pressure put on you as a young superstar in the making. She just wanted to help, often doing so by coming over with dinner for you and Kyra when you have your sleepovers, making sure that you didn’t trash your diets too much.

Looking down to the floor as you walk over to the older girl, she smiles at you mischievously like she knew exactly what it was you were doing. She knew that you’d been forced by your mom to apologize to her and she was enjoying the process of you going through all the stages of grief before getting to her.

Looking her in the eye, she sees the playful hate in your gaze, she already knew that you didn’t hate her but instead having to apologize for something that she caused.

“I’m sorry Kyra” Lowering your voice, she sees you look down at her in amusement. “I hope you know that I’m only doing this for the ice cream.” The Australian gasps in mock shock at your statement, but mostly at the fact that you’re allowed to get ice cream when she isn’t.

“VIV?! Why is Y/n getting ice cream and not me?” She catches the attention of the entire team with her bold accusation, most if not all of them rolling their eyes at her actions.

“Because Y/n doesn’t start fights, and she’s apologizing for threatening you.” Viv joins the others in rolling their eyes, taking hold of your shoulders as you make your way over to her, pulling you into a side hug.

With your backs to the young Aussie, neither of you notice the way she’s rushing towards you two, ready to absolutely throw herself onto you. She comes in with an awkward angle, her legs wrapping around both you and Vic’s waists, her arms locking around your necks, nearly choking you both out. Her head slots into the space between you and Viv’s heads.

Luckily enough for every Arsenal women’s fan ever, there’s a photographer there to capture the looks of absolute horror on you and the Dutch woman’s face and the unignorable grin on the Australian’s.

“Kyra Cooney-Cross get off right this second or I swear to god I will contact Katrina personally.” Viv comes off more than a little threatening, her voice deadly calm as she speaks to the younger girl. Kyra frowns playfully and slides down you and Viv’s excessively tall bodies, her feet touching the floor after a few seconds.

“What do they feed you dutchies? You need to stop being so tall, it’s annoying.” The short girl looks at you angrily when you pat her head like she was some sort of dog, waiting for a treat. She slaps your hand away when it comes down to pet her again and the only response she gets is a shrug from you as Viv drags you away to her car.

Only minutes later Kyra’s phone pings with a notification from instagram, seeing the ‘yourinstagram tagged you in a post’ had her stressing out. When she looked at the story you had tagged her in, she couldn’t help but roll her eyes, it was a selfie of you and Viv with ice creams in your hands, you with the biggest smile ever on your face and Viv looking slightly fed up with you.

The caption you’d typed out was ‘revenge is best served cold, right @/kyracooneyx’, she reposted your story to her own, typing out a simple ‘I hate you’. But with your quick thinking and amazing humor, you quickly reply with your own story, a caption reading ‘tell that to the ice cream you didn’t get’.

Kyra couldn’t even lie and say that it wasn’t funny, the little giggle she let out an indicator of how she enjoyed the little back and forth.

————————————————

Everyone in the team agreed that the decision to put you and Kyra in the same car on the road-trip across the country was a bad idea. They knew that it would be torture, Kyra would chew in your ear, or simply just breathe loudly next to you, making you really fucking irritated. You would constantly touch her, poking at her like you weren’t afraid of losing your fingers.

The unfortunate person having to sit next to you and Kyra during the entire ride this time was none other than Alessia Russo, someone who really just wanted to sleep the entire 8 hour ride and skip your bullshit, obviously that didn’t happen.

“WHO LET KYRA HAVE SNACKS? I’m going to kill you.” Alessia sat to your left, rubbing her temples at the already growing headache, Kyra sat to your right, a sucker in her mouth and three loud crinkly bags of crisps in her lap. You were in the middle seat, a frankly uncomfortable seat seeing as you were the tallest in the entire car, knees bent inwards trying to fit your long legs between the seats.

“Yeah, Viv did you not ban snacks so that this wouldn’t happen?” Beth questions the forward, who meets Kyra’s guilty gaze in the rearview mirror, looking at her sternly. Viv sighs like she knew it would happen before reaching her hand back and asking for Kyra’s snacks. When she begrudgingly hands them over, you look at her with a huge grin on your face.

“Thank you pa, you’re my hero, saving me from the evil supervillain ready to chew in my ear.” Viv gets a little embarrassed and emotional at you calling her pa, the Dutch name for father you had nicknamed her was something you only called her in private.

“Aww Vivi, did you get a bit embarrassed?” Beth teases her girlfriend gently, tugging lightly at her dark red cheek. It was lucky you’d stopped at a red light, otherwise Viv would’ve probably crashed the car.

All of a sudden, when you’re distracted by Beth and Viv interacting, you hear a couple of loud chews of what sounds like at least 6 sticks of gum. The way you recoil is almost instant, throwing your body into Alessia’s open arms, the woman glaring at Kyra for doing that, AGAIN. Alessia liked cuddling you though so it wasn’t all that bad.

She definitely can’t complain when you fall asleep in less than 5 minutes either, though having to give Kyra a stare down as she tried to tickle your sides definitely wasn’t a highlight of her day.

Within 25 minutes of your departure from the training grounds, Kyra was already complaining about needing to pee, only answering with a shrug and a simple ‘I didn’t need to go then’ when asked why she didn’t go at home.

Viv sighs as she stops at the gas station in the middle of nowhere, Alessia waking you up so that you too could go to the toilet.

“Oh for fucks sake Kyra, you don’t need all that candy. I swear I’m more of an adult than you are.” You told the Australian girl as you came into the gas station, moving towards the bathroom. It looked like you could get every STD possible from simply being in there.

When you exited it was with a grossed out expression, that was until you spotted the slushy machines lined up against the wall. You lit up like a child on christmas morning when you spotted it, quickly filling a cup whilst you commanded her to get you a sprite, the cashier taking a quick peek at you bouncing up and down in anticipation of your drink.

After you paid, you instructed Kyra to pour about half the sprite into the slushy cup, letting her taste it after she’d promised on her mothers life not to make any sound.

“That’s delicious, where did you learn to do that?” She questions you, moving to buy her own slushy and sprite.

“I don’t know, I just did it once and it tasted great. Now you better hurry up because I think Viv is going to kill us if we’re not in the car soon.” With that, Kyra hurries up.

You’re both in the car in record time, all the actual adults in the car’s eyes widening at the half full slushy glasses in your hands.

Only a few minutes later, both you and Kyra are in full on sugar rush mode, singing along with the song on the radio loudly, swaying in your seats as you pretend you’re on the big stage somewhere. They’re all pleasantly surprised when you belt out the riff to Keyshia Cole’s Love, it being legitimately good.

As were Alessia’s instagram followers, the girl posting a video of you singing like you’d just had your heart broken, well that was until you were interrupted by Kyra snacking loudly right next to your ear.

“LOOOOOOVE NEVER KNEW WHAT I WAS MISS- KYRA GET THE FUCK OUT MY EAR.” She does look a little sheepish as she does it this time, pretty clearly not even registering that she was chewing with her mouth open.

Though she doesn’t stay sheepish for long, just like you don’t stay mad for long, because ‘I want it that way’ by the backstreet boys suddenly came on the radio, and that was always you and Kyra’s karaoke song.

It only took you a few more songs for the sugar crash to hit, you and Kyra suddenly going from duetting on songs to snoring loudly in the backseat.

Luckily enough for everyone in the car you managed to stay asleep through the whole ride, only waking up a few times to tell Kyra to ‘get the fuck out my ear’.

Literally everyone is confused when you turn up to the camping site, half asleep and clinging to Kyra tightly, Beth soon taking you from the younger girl so that she could start helping to set up the tents.

“They didn’t cause too much trouble, did they? I know how they can be.” Kim comes up to stand beside Beth, who shakes her head diligently.

“No, they slept most of the ride, they were both drinking some slushy and then had a sugar crash after singing for half an hour.” Beth smiles at you tenderly, the motherly affection clearly something she’d picked up from her own mother.

“Aw well that’s good then.” Kim says quietly, noticing you drooling slightly with your eyes half open, looking like those orange cats you always showed her.

———————

“Kyra if you don’t get the fuck out my ear I will kill you.” It wasn’t even her fault that she was sniffly, she’d caught something from Harper at camp and when you asked if you could come over for your sleepover, she didn’t hesitate.

She looked at you sadly, like she was heartbroken by your insensitive words. It makes you sad to see her like that, so you quickly bring her into your arms, asking for forgiveness.

“I’m so sorry Ky Ky, how about I make you some soup yk feel better?” She nodded wholeheartedly at your words, sitting on the counter as you made your famous soup.

And even though you had to keep yourself from being angry at her every single second, you wouldn’t trade being at Kyra’s home cooking for her for anything.

#woso #alessia russo #woso x reader #alessia russo x reader #arsenal wfc #kyra cooney cross x reader #kyra cooney cross #vivianne miedema x reader #beth mead x reader #vivianne miedema #beth mead

[shxyss1n1st3rr3ads]

6. A super long one that wasn't intended

[an~]: hii. this is my first post on here and of course its going to be about Bucky. anyways enjoy.

pairing- buckyxreader type- bestfriend2lover warning- you a dumb bitch in this and bucky couldn't take it.

You couldn't explain how it happened, especially when it all happened so fast. At one moment you were walking up three stories of stairs with one of the last boxes you had to get from the moving truck downstairs. And the next you were falling. Your back smacking against the wooden stairs. Legs bendings in weird ways, and hands are throbbing from trying to stop the fall.

 You were just moving into your first apartment after staying with Bucky at the tower for a while. You truly felt so bad for burdening him and the other Avengers, so you wanted to do the move all by yourself. But having them around, especially Bucky, they wouldn't let you do it alone. 

Bucky told you not to go and grab the boxes because he could grab the last two in one trip. He was already frustrated with you because you decided not to call him to help you move, even though he told you to do so. He always hated when ya did too much. He wanted to make your life easier for you, but that was hard when you are so stubborn. 

You were almost to the top step when the box suddenly just felt so heavy. Your left leg was mid air when your right knee turned to jelly and gave out from beneath you. The box filled with pots and pans flew upward while you fell downward. The next two minutes consists of a shit ton of banging from not only the pans that went flying, but from your body hitting every step and landing on the second floor platform.

Thankfully you didn't hit your head too much going down, but there was a huge throbbing pain in your thigh and back.

Within two seconds of final silence from the fall of everything, you hear footsteps booming in your direction from the upper floor. 

“YN?!” You hear Bucky slam the door open and he runs towards you. “YN? What the fuck? Where are you?” He yells. You started to groan as you tried to move to get up. Dying of embarrassment isn't in the plan. Then again, neither was this. 

“Did you jus- Fuck.” His voice sounds like he was the one in pain. You could feel his eyes from the top of the stairs. He damn near flew down the stairs and flung himself to his knees to stop you from moving any further. 

“Stay put…I told you not to…fucking shit…You should have waited-” He mumbles more to himself as he runs his hands over your arms and head checking for any pain. “Where does it hurt?” His face had such a deep frown in it. All you wanted to do is rub your thumb over it like you usually do.

“Leg n back, Buck.” You grunt out. Your hand holds your skirt down so he doesn't see anything he doesn't want too. It felt like you were out of breath. He quickly nods and looks down at your legs. That's when you both notice a piece of the wooden stair was jammed in the side of your thigh. It wasn't crazy big, but it wasn't small either. It was maybe the size of your finger? Not sure, you could barely look. Your skirt did a damn good job covering that up. He quickly lifts it a bit and notices the small pool of blood forming around my leg. Your eyes slowly looked up to his face, and you could've sworn your heart stopped for a second. His face was so dark, you didn't really recognize him. Your eyes caught onto his hands shaking on his thighs has he is comprehending what the fuck just happened. 

If only you just listened. 

“Buck, I'll be fine. Just help me up…”

“Shut up.” He rumbles. You saying something must've snapped something in him because he suddenly reaches above his head with his fleshed arm and he pulls on his shirt until it is completely off. You couldn't help but to blush at the sudden nakedness. With both of his hands he rips the seam apart, making a huge cloth. He then reaches down and wraps the shirt above the wound and he ties it off. Before you could say anything else, he then reaches around you and lifts you in one big swoop. It throws you so far off guard. Nobody just picks me up like that. Not a big girl like you… Your cheeks are on fire. 

You peep over at his face as he continues to walk back up the stairs. I couldn't help but to cringe and tuck my face into his neck at the memories of what literally just happened. You feel his head lean against yours, almost tucking you further into him. 

“I've got you.” He says softly. He kicks open the ajar door and heads right to the bathroom. He walks over to the bigger part of the counter and sets you there. He then turns on the sink that was to your right, then leaves the room. You didn't know what to think right now. Your leg was throbbing like crazy, making your whole leg shake. You back ached, so you leaned against the wall some. But also your heart was racing so fast, and you knew it was because of Bucky.

You hear him ripping open some boxes, most likely looking for something. Two more boxes later and he comes back with the advanced professional first aid kit that he insisted on you having and a sewing kit. 

He sets them on the other side of the sink and he opens them. He also grabs some paper towel that you have on the bathroom counter. He takes some and lets some of the water run on the corner. 

He looks up through his lashes at you and walks over. You naturally spread your legs a bit and let him get in between. He inspects the damage, and not without giving some more rumble and grumble. He starts dabbing around the piece of wood, cleaning up some of the blood. You couldn't help but flinch when he would press too hard.

“I have to pull it out.” He gives you a look of sympathy. 

“No no, I got it, Buck. You've helped me enough.” You try to dismiss him. You just wanted the embarrassment to stop. You probably looked like a hot ass mess, and you just wanted to clean yourself up. 

Bucky then cuffs the side of your neck and jaw, he pushes your head up to look at his frowning face. His metal hand is not letting you go anywhere. 

“Let me take it out.” he says with a little huff in between each word. He was also trying to console you at the same time. He could only imagine the pain.

“It's Karma, I should've just let you grab the boxes…” You try to laugh it off, but you couldn't when he comes quickly down and plants his lips on yours. It surprised the heck out of you and set off sparks in ya tummy. Your mind was racing and you couldn't help but to want more. You struggle to pull away as his hand has a good grip on you. 

He grabs hold of the piece of wood with his other hand making you whine in the kiss. He thrusts forward as a reaction and kisses you deeper wanting you to hold still.. Then without a second thought he pulls his hand away along with the piece of wood, and drops it in the trash next to the counter. He  takes his whole hand and covers the wound while putting a lot of pressure on it. The sudden movement caused you to pull him closer as well. You didn't want your lips to disconnect, even though you knew he did it as a distraction. He pulls his lips away and he trails his lips down your neck leaving love kisses all over.

“Its done.” He whispers in your ear, then he kitty licks your earlobe making goosebumps run down your neck.

“O-okay.” You murmured. Now you just wanted to run away and hide. He pulls his face back a bit to get a better look at your face, but you just kept your face down. Your face was burning like hell's furnace. You didn't want him to see how affected you were by his kiss.

At this point you both were thinking two different things. You thought he did it just to distract you from pulling out the wood, and he is over here thinking, “I finally fucking kissed her”

So Bucky was confused at your shyness. You were never shy around him, at least that he could tell. Did he mess up everything? 

His metal hand was still softly caressing your face, so his thumb went under your face and lifted it up so you could actually look at him. He didn't expect to see your face all fucked out. You've had dirty thoughts ever since his lips left yours. Your golden cheeks were now tinted red and your eyes looked as if you were far far away in your thoughts.

“YN?” he choked out. You blinked a couple of times. 

“Are you done?” You ask dryly. Bucky looks at your wound and back at you.

“I don't think you need stitches, just some skin glue.” His voice was rough, and he realized his pants were also struggling because they were now so tight. He clears his throat and grabs the first aid kit. He then finishes his job by cleaning the area and putting the glue on. 

You couldn't help but to watch him so intently. Waiting for him to be done. He was no longer between your legs because you were squeezing your thighs so hard. 

“Now I'm done. “ He sighs. 

“You forgot to kiss it better.” You blurt out in a whispered tone. Bucky just stares back at you…’did you really just say that?’ 

His flesh hand grabs your calf and runs his fingers down until he grabs your ankle. His eyes never leave yours as he starts trailing little ghostly kisses on your leg. As he watches you, he looks out for any sign on uncomfortness. He kisses where lightly laced with tongue, as it touches you ever so slightly. Your breathing gets thicker as he gets higher up. 

Your body moves faster than your mind and you reach out to him, wanting him to get up and cover you in his body warmth. And it was like he read your mind, because he was instantly up in your embrace again. But you weren't kissing. Instead just enjoying each other in a comfortable silence. 

“I'm sorry, I just need to aga-” He couldn't even finish his own sentence he leans back down and he connects his lips right back to yours. You both couldn't contain your energy this time. You wanted to stand up, to do something to get deeper into him. But he made sure that you stayed right where you were and he did most of the work. Of course. His tongue went in and devoured you from the inside out. His arms around you and his fingers digging into your soft squishy body. As seconds go by it gets more and more heated. You bring your hand to the front of his pants and give him a good squeeze, which causes him to malfunction damn near. Instead of nipping your bottom lip like he wanted too, he bit down on it, groaning out. 

“Shit.” He sucks on your body lip, tasting the iron. 

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK , “YN? Bucky? Are you there?” Steve calls out. “Why are there pans all over the place?”

#bucky barnes #winter soldier #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #avenger #the avengers #angst #fluff #kiss

[writingfics-passingtime]

Hi JJ!! After avoiding it for almost 2 and a half years, the dreaded virus finally got me 😷

I know someone has only asked you about headcanons once, so feel totally free to say no! But might you have any Bucky headcanons or thoughts?

Hi anon !!! oh NO im so sorry to hear the dreaded plague caught you 🤧 I’m honoured you’ve come to me in this time 😂

JJ’s Bucky headcanons and thoughts:

Understandably, this man’s 1940’s confidence has waned a little bit. You might get glimpses of that vintage suave solider, but self-doubt has creeped in so it’ll take longer for Bucky to be sure it’s okay to initiate any kind of physical affection.

He’s kinda sweet, and begrudgingly shy about doing things like holding your hand or slipping an arm around your waist. He’d more likely offer you his arm as you’re walking down the street together, like he would’ve back then, but then stammer and remember that people didn’t do that much now.

He’d need lots of reassurance in the beginning. However, once you break past his insecurity he’d have a hard time keeping his hands off of you.

Seriously any excuse to pull you close, wrap his arms around your waist, rest his chin on your shoulder, the man will do it. He loves coming up behind you when you’re working or cooking and distracting you with stubbly nips to your ear, or some kind of whisper that makes you flinch and giggle.

When Bucky finds out you’re ticklish, he’s shy about it at first. If you’d had asked him why he may have blamed the metal arm, but he quickly finds that getting into play-wrestling-matches-turned-tickle-fights is an easy way be his playful self with you.

Bucky can be downright devious, trapping you under a leg or an arm or half his body to win and/or prove a point.

However, most of the time it would be more rough and tumble. Lots of chases. Short chases, mind you (let’s not forget he’s a super soldier), because he doesn’t just let you win. Not since you insisted you can handle yourself - which was in an entirely different context but he loves to use it against you.

Dating Bucky Barnes would include hands sneaking under your hoodie to grab at your sides when you teased him about anything, or wiggling fingers jammed under your arms when he catches you teaching him an incorrect pop culture reference. Also, lots and lots of warm nights wrapped up, draped over and under each other, nuzzling your nose against the bare skin of his neck until his grin is about to break into a laugh so he flips you onto your back and returns the favour.

This was fun to think about, thank you for your question !! I may be craving some warm, playful protagonists right now 😂

Feel better soon, lovely 💜

#Answered #thanks anon! #bucky headcanons #Bucky tickle headcanons #Bucky tickle #this man needs some gentle love #but someone who makes him go 🙄 #all the people this man loves exasperate him AT LEAST a teensy bit so it’s only fitting #on a side note why is tumblr mobile browser edit suite the worst thing ever #there’s no autocorrect ??? #I type too fast for that shit my thumbs are flying #I NEED AUTOCORRECT #Bucky x you #lol

[buckysbabygorl]

Hello! Idk if you’re currently accepting requests right now and if you aren’t, feel free to ignore or delete this! If you are, I would like to request a fluff oneshot with the reader (who possesses the ability to fly with wings) is practicing with their ability outside of the avengers compound one afternoon and standing in the field is Bucky, just watching them with pure adoration. 🥺

I APOLOGIZE IN ADVANCE FOR THE LENGTH OF THIS REQUEST 😭

Flight Risk

Word Count: 1.7k

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Masterlist

~

“MOTHER FUCKER!”

Y/N fell once again as she took lift off.

At least she had manage a few feet this time.

Holy hell was this hard.

She looked to the clouds from her position in the grass, admiring the fluffy clusters above her. When she was younger, her mother told her they were made of the fallen feathers of angel wings, accumulating in soft mounds throughout the sky.

She reached to touch the end of her own wings, though they weren’t white, she liked to think that’s what the clouds above her felt like.

She knew they didn’t, in fact they didn’t feel like anything. Just cold, moist. Or so she had been told. She hadn’t felt them herself yet.

Her wings hadn’t been operational that long ago: DNA splicing experimentation and strenuous surgery had only produced these miraculous appendages on a  whim, she had been the only successful subject. There could have been more, but thankfully the Avengers stepped in once hearing that Zola’s previous experimentation had influenced a small group of mad scientists to use similar technologies. Kidnapping thousands of travellers throughout the decades and only recently been finding themselves successful in their results. They attempted to give people gills, fins, horns, hooves... and in Y/N’s case, wings.

They couldn’t send Y/N back into society; they knew she wouldn’t be accepted or be able to live a normal life. She was free to return to civillian life if she chose, but the team made her aware that she was more than welcome to join them.

So she did.

She surprisingly had proved herself to be a usefull asset, wings aside. She was strong, fast, cunning, high above the rest (both literally and metaphorically). She was a superhero now.

But unfortunately, she had no capabality of flying.

“I can teach you,” Sam said, “It’s not that difficult.”

“Your wings don’t count,” Y/N said, “Yours are mechnical. Mine are natural.”

“Well, as natural as science experiments can be.” Bruce said.

“Shut it,” she teased.

Technology aside, Sam had seemed like the only one with somewhat similar experiences to teach her some minor details.

He gave her the basics, but she was alone now.

Huffing, she lifted herself from the ground and dusted her clothes off. She shook out her wings, adjusting her shirt so that they didn’t bunch at the shoulders.

“Come on, you got this. Just bend, brace, expand, flap--”

She tried again, shooting up with wings narrowed. She then unfurled them as she rose higher into the air, but as another gust of wind came she found herself faltering and tumbling back down.

Bucky took out his earbuds as he jogged by. He hadn’t noticed her before, adjusting to the early morning hadn’t left him very observant of his surroundings. He watched as her wings spread, her eyes on the sky above. He couldn’t help but chuckle as she struggled to stay up, frustration scrunching her face.

“You okay? He called out.

She rested her hands on her knees, looking up at the voice. A small smile breaking her thoughts as she realized who it was.

“Yeah.” She called back.

He jogged to her place in the open field, slowing as he neared her and stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Flight practice?” He asked.

“Not really,” she said as she crossed her legs, “It’s more ‘breaking for impact’ practice at this point.”

He laughed softly, bending to sit beside her as she checked her knees for scrapes.

“I take it Sam didn’t really give you the best advice.” He said, reaching out to run his thumb over a small bruise on her shin.

She sighed, “Well his heart’s in the right place but--we’ve got different mechanics. I don’t think he can relate to this. Not that many people can...”

She ran the back of her hand along the length of her wings, flicking upwards as she reached their soft end point.

Bucky admired the light brown color of her wings, reminding him of the sparrows that sometimes stopped on the windowsill of his bedroom. 

He was never really subtle with his staring, Sam had actually labelled it as his biggest problem. She wasn’t an exception to that; he often found his eyes chasing after her as she exited rooms, her expansive wings encompassing her figure. 

“One day she’s gonna catch you staring,” Sam warned, “you better hope she doesn’t kick your ass. She could get the wrong idea...”

Bucky didn’t like that her phrased it that way; as if he was gawking at her. He wasn’t looking at her like she was some freak, or a circus sideshow. It was more like... admiration.

She was beautiful.

He thought she was beautiful.

If anyone had taken a glimpse into his mind, it would be easy to understand that he wasn’t looking only because the wings were breathtaking, he felt she was too.

“Can I?” He asked.

His hand was held out in a loose open palm, just above the bed of feathers.

She nodded, and he ran his knuckles slowly along the length in the same way she had before.

They tickled slightly, the nerve endings in his fingers seemed to buzz. His hand shook slightly as he flicked upwards at the point, and she giggled quietly.

“It tickles when you do it.” She said.

He smiled, “Same here.”

He gently picked at blades of grass that had stuck to her wings,  “How long have you been out here?”

She looked up at the sun, noting its change in height.

“A few hours I think. I didn’t want anyone to see.”

“Well, sorry for the intrusion then.” 

She shrugged, “It’s alright. I like having you around.”

A blush creeped up his cheeks, and he ducked his head more, pretending to really focus on pulling out grass.

“So--uh, where do you think you’re going wrong?”

She chuckled at his bluntness, only further embarrassing Bucky.

“I don’t know. In my lift off I can’t make it stick. It just doesn’t feel natural.”

“Alright”, Bucky wasn’t sure how to help her, it wasn’t like he had any personal experience himself. “Well, what does feel natural?”

“What do you mean?”

He leaned back to lie on the grass, hands cradling his head as he looked up.

“I guess--I mean, when you look at birds, they just start flapping. That’s natural for them. Humans don’t fly; Sam’s wings are mechanical…”

Y/N realized early on in their relationship that Bucky had a tendency to ramble; though he liked when others were “to the point”, he lacked that quality himself. But she knew if she was patient, he’d get there eventually. And truthfully, she quite enjoyed listening to his tangents.

“...so Sam’s advice is based off what the wings are designed to do. Maybe you need to try testing it out the natural way. Move your wings in a way that feels right. Does that make sense?”

No, it didn’t.

But she smiled anyway, “Kind of. Like, don’t think about it and see where my body takes me?”

He chuckled, “That’s a weird way to phrase it, but yeah, something like that.”

Suddenly she stood up, making Bucky jump slightly.

She was no longer looking at him, only closing her eyes and expanding her wings.

He liked that she was a “0 to 100” type of person, out of nowhere she’d get an idea and then it was all action.

She let the wind ripple through her feathers, and she tried to gauge the current off her wings.

Don’t think about it… what feels right?

She couldn’t put it into words; but as she focused on her surroundings, feeling the breeze… some kind of instinct came over her.

Wait…

Bucky intently watched as she inhaled; steading herself as her wings unfurled.

Wait…

As the sun gleamed behind her, leaving him completely consumed in her shadow. 

It was breathtaking.

Her eyes snapped open.

Now.

The sudden flap of her wings threw Bucky back, the hard beat shooting her upwards and leaving him in the grass.

Each stride she took was with purpose, and before they knew it she was flying higher than she ever had before.

Bucky stood, laughing and smiling in awe as she soared along the current.

The wind roared in her ears, so loud she could barely hear her own laughter.

She was amazed, she was flying.

She let the wind pull her, ducking her wings and shooting off in another direction.

Bucky spun around in circles as she flew around him, trying to catch her figure against the blinding sunlight.

He was dizzy, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

“Jesus Christ,” he said to himself. He cupped his hands over his mouth to amplify his voice, “You’re flying!” He screamed.

“I’m fucking flying!” She screamed back.

Just wait ‘til Sam saw this.

But then she got cocky, dipping further than she should’ve.

She caught a draft that clipped her wing.

It was too late to catch herself before she was fluttering to the ground.

“Shit!” She screamed.

“Shit.” Bucky muttered.

He started running in her direction, arms reaching out like he was catching a football.

“I’ve got you,” he cried, “I’ve got you!”

He caught her just in time, bracing for impact as they both crashed into the ground.

Hair windswept and cheeks red, Y/N screamed out in happiness.

“Oh my god, did you see that? Did you see me?”

He couldn’t help but laugh and shake his head as she dramatically recounted the experience, his arms firmly holding her against him.

“And then I was like whoosh and the wind came and it was like AHH and then--”

She was cut off by his lips on hers.

His lips were soft, his touch surprisingly gentle for such a gruff man…

Her eyes closed and she pressed further into him, deepening the kiss.

He pulled away, leaving her more shocked than the flight had.

“I’m sorry,” He started, “It’s just--”

He looked into her eyes, unable to explain it all. How could he? She was just...

“--I think you’re amazing.”

She smiled back at him, “Oh I’ll show you amazing.”

Her hands wrapped around his collar as she pulled him back in for another kiss.

Bucky would have to remind himself to interrupt flight practice more often...

~

I hope you enjoyed @halietigges this request was so fun to make!

Taglist: @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @dumb-ass-writer @cuddlycalcifer @babyblue-07 @babybluereads @lonewolf471 @emmabarnes @niiight-dreamerrrr @julipmoon @fandomsfallnomore @elliee1497 @godspeedlover @sexwithhiddlesbatch @annestine @shower-me-with-roses @yougottalovefandoms @rebekahdawkins

#marvel #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #tiktok #bucky barnes imagine #fatws #bucky #tfatws #buckysbabygorl requests #buckysbabygorl masterlist

[mandospace]

Din Djarin Kinktober 2021 Day Six: Deep-throating (Din Djarin x F!Reader Smut)

Summary: The sixth day of my Din Djarin Kinktober 2021 featuring deep-throating the Mandalorian.

Word Count: 1,659

Warnings: SMUT! IF YOU ARE UNDER 18, DNI! Oral sex (m receiving), deep throating, slight praise, strong language, uhh I think that’s it? Let me know if I missed anything.

A/N: Yay, it’s Day Six! Apparently I really like writing about going doing on Din because I wrote this so fast. I guess I just really want to go down on him lol. I hope you all like it and if you’d like to be added to my tag list, let me know!

MASTERLIST

Din Djarin Kinktober 2021 Masterlist

“Let me take care of you, baby,” you whispered next to Din’s helmeted face, arms wrapping around him from behind as your hands sensually slid down his armored chest.

Din felt so tired. It was the type of tiredness that was bone deep, that not even a good night’s rest would fix. He had been running himself ragged the past few weeks, trying to catch as many quarries as possible so that when he returned to Karga, his next payday would be substantial enough to take a break. A real break where he could fly the two of you to some distant and remote planet and relax for a few days without having to worry about hunting for a quarry or your next meal. Din had never been one to stop or take a vacation, but ever since you stepped into his life he was slowly learning how to enjoy the moments of peace and quiet. You were teaching him that self-care was important and that it was okay to slow down once in a while.

Old habits die hard, you suppose.

“M’fine,” he grunted through the helmet, trying to hide how nice your hands felt sliding up and down his torso. Your hands trailed up his side and around to his back, worming their way under his cowl and armor. “Really.”

“Doesn’t feel like you’re fine,” you retort, fingers working on a knot in his neck that was insistent on staying no matter how many times you worked it out. You dug your thumbs into the tight cords of muscle, slowly untying the knot. “I can tell how wound up you are under all that armor.”

Din sighed. “Well, I guess I am a little sore.”

You grinned in victory and squeezed his shoulders. “Sit down and let me take care of you.” Guiding him to the pilot’s seat in the cockpit, you pushed down on his pauldrons and willed him to relax into the old leather. He sat with a groan and laid his head back against the seat, too exhausted to keep his head upright.

“There we go,” you coo, hands making their way down his strong arms. You pull the worn leather gloves from his hands and interlace his fingers with your own. Bringing one hand up to your lips, you place a gentle kiss over his bruised knuckles. “Let me take care of you, baby.”

Din hums in agreement, eyes falling closed behind his visor. Your hands felt like magic as they danced across his body, slowly pulling away each protective layer of armor before setting it aside in a neat pile. With every piece, your lips would place a tender kiss to the newly revealed area.

Your touch was so soothing as you made your way around his body that Din had begun to doze off in the pilot’s chair. There was just something about you that made Din want to slow down and enjoy life—as long as it was with you. You made him want to stop and look at the pretty sunsets, to smell the roses and all of that other cheesy romantic shit. You alone had turned the hardened and feared Mandalorian into a giant ball of—

“What are you doing?” Din’s eyes snapped open at the feeling of your small hand wiggling its way into the fly of his flight suit. You looked up at him sheepishly—caught in the act—before continuing to pull his soft cock from his pants. Something dangerous flashed across your expression before returning back to the sweet face he loved and adored.

“Getting you to relax,” you gave him a shy smile and wrapped your small hand around his soft cock. Your fingers were slightly cold from being stuck in the freezing ship all day and Din let out a hiss at the sensation. Before his trained eyes could even catch it, you had dipped your head down and gave a little kitten-lick to the tip of his cock, returning to your previous position of gazing up at your helmeted Mandalorian.

Din could feel his cock swiftly stiffening and he let out a loud groan. Your hand lazily pumped his cock until it grew to its impressive size. His head lolled forward so that his chin was pressed to his chest, giving him the perfect view of you between his legs. You leaned forward and gave him another lick. “You’re going to be the death of me, pretty girl.”

You wrapped your lips around the hot tip of his cock, humming at both his statement and the taste of him on your tongue. You pulled off of him and flashed him a winning smile. “At least it will be a pleasant one.”

Din moaned and fisted his fingers through your hair, pulling you down onto his aching cock. You languidly licked up his length from base to tip, swirling your tongue around the head of him before pulling back just enough to spit on his throbbing length. Din let out a vicious snarl and pulled you back onto him, jaw dropping open in ecstasy.

Working your mouth open, you started to bob down his length, taking more of him each time. At every upstroke of your mouth, you made sure to give extra attention to the head of his cock that was now steadily leaking pre-cum. You flicked your tongue against the slit of him, savoring his taste before diving back down.

Din groaned and panted and writhed in his seat, trying to stay still enough and not push you too hard. He could steadily feel you taking him more and more with each downward stroke—the head of his cock eventually nudging the back of your throat. You held him there and nestled your nose in the curls at the base of his cock, breathing in his potent scent before pulling off him with a gasp. Tears welled in the corner of your lust-filled eyes and spit dribbled down your chin—Din thought that he had never seen such a prettier sight.

“Fuck,” Din grunted, his fingers tangling themselves in your locks when you take him further this time. He could feel your throat constricting around his hard length in protest—your gag reflex trying to push him out. Before it became too much for you, he pulled you off him once more. He gave you a moment to catch your breath, his thumb swiping away some of the drool on your chin. “You don’t have to take me so deep, pretty. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“M’fine,” you gulped, voice raspy from sucking his cock. You shifted on your knees to get closer to him and took him in your small hand, steadily pumping him. “I want you to use me.”

“Don’t go saying things you don’t mean, mesh’la,” Din warned, his thumb moving up to brush away your tears.

A look of defiance flashed in your eyes. “Fuck my throat, Din.” You duck back down to his cock and lick a long stripe up the underside of him. Din could’ve sworn he went cross-eyed with lust at the look of determination you gave him. “I mean it.”

A snarl ripped through Din’s chest and he pulled you back onto his aching length, sliding down into your throat. You set a fast and hard pace as you took him down your throat—the sloppy sucking and wet sounds of your mouth on his cock filling the cockpit.

Din could feel his balls begin to tighten at his impending orgasm—the wet slide of your mouth around his cock beginning to be too much. He lurched forward and let out a growl as both hands fisted in your hair to keep you still. His hips began to thrust upwards and into your mouth, shoving his cock down your throat at a fast and hard pace. Din glanced down at the sight below him—you on your knees with your lips wrapped around his cock, tears in your eyes while you gaze up at him wantonly as you let him fuck your throat. Din’s visor fogged up with his humid breath and obscured his vision of you.

Unacceptable.

One hand left your hair and reached for his helmet, ripping it off and throwing it to the floor with a clank. His eyes were wild and the pupils were blown with lust as he gazed down at you. His free hand cupped your jaw, feeling the muscle straining from being held open for so long. His touch traveled down your neck before clasping around your throat—he could feel his cock sliding down your throat with every thrust of his hips.

All of a sudden it became too much—he came down your throat without so much as a warning. You sat there though and took all he gave you, your eyes never leaving his while he shuddered in the chair from his release. Once the initial waves of his orgasm had passed, he pulled you off his soft cock and grabbed your waist, pulling you up into his lap.

His breathing was shaky and his eyes were wild but he cupped your face tenderly, tilting his forehead to meet yours in a Keldabe kiss. The two of you stayed there for a moment or two, basking in each other’s presence before he pulled away. His thumb brushed over your puffy lips, swollen from taking him for so long. A dribble of his cum sat at the corner of your mouth so he swiped it away, pushing it past your lips and into your mouth. You licked his thumb clean, moaning around the digit as you did so. Din shuddered when you released his thumb with a wet pop.

“You did good, mesh’la,” he praised, dropping his forehead to yours once more. “Did so good for me.”

“Do you feel relaxed?” you question, turning your head to press your lips to his palm.

“I’m the most relaxed I’ve ever been, pretty girl.”

~~~~

Tag List: @dincrypt @din-is-a-real-mando @coonflix @daryldixonstorm @mysticalpersontaco @simp-clown @mando831 @bfences @dinbucky @infuriatinglyoptimistic @hayley-the-comet @janebby @dindjarins04 @samantha1sodone​​ @i-m-sherlocked-twice

** if there is a strike through your name it is because I am unable to tag you **

#mandospace kinktober #din djarin kinktober #mando kinktober #mandalorian kinktober #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x y/n #din djarin smut #din djarin oneshot #din djarin one shot #din djarin imagine #din djarin fanfic #din djarin drabble #din djarin fan fic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fan fiction #mando x you #mando x reader #mando x y/n #mando smut #mando imagine #mando oneshot #mando one shot #mando drabble #mando fanfic #mando fan fic #mando fanfiction #mando fan fiction #mandalorian x you #mandalorian x reader

[sxdmoonchxld]

Operation: Pop The Cherry | JJK

Jungkook x Virgin!Reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: rough bathroom sex, college au, unprotected sex, teasing, fingering, Jungkook has a virgin kink if you couldn’t tell by he title, lowkey sadistic JK, Gay BFF Jimin, mentions of alcohol and weed, brief mention of homophobia. bIG diCK Jungkook, more belly bulging, and I forgot what else

Word Count: 6.1k

Summary: Against you better judgement and thank to your best friend Jimin. You somehow agreed to let a stranger on campus known as the Cherry Popper, too well..pop your cherry.

Alternatively: You're a virgin. Jungkook has a fetish/kink for fucking virgins.

A/N: I guess i’ll keep putting this note until i stop reposting my old stories. I use to be lizardsocial, and this fic was previously called Game. You may still be able to find it somewhere on tumblr. I edited this fic heavily and it’s honestly a new story, but there are still some elements from the fic it used to be still in there. Unedited so please let me know of any mistakes or typos. Like, comment, reblog, let me know what you think. Enjoy!

_________________________________________

Bass boosted pop music seeped through the dense walls of the energetic room. Strobing bright colored beams danced to the rhythm of the music in mesmerizing synchrony. The musty odor of marijuana, booze, and sex-saturated air shrouded the room in a turbid veil, covering the sea of drunken undulating bodies packed in the cramped living room.  Empty beer cans and other various booze bottles mixed with burnt-out blunts accompanied the young adults. You groaned with irritation and disgust. You didn't want to be here, but to your chagrin, you had a promise to keep.

It wasn't a secret that the college nightlife was unquestionably not your type of 'scene.' You quite frequently elected to willingly engage most of your time in your freshman dorm, wrapped in your weighted burrito blanket. A nightstand stockpiled with all your favorite snacks, lights dimmed low, and lavender incense burning, filling your room with the aroma of relaxation. The perfect setting to binge-watch your favorite show for the umpteenth time, the shifting distorted brightness of your computer screen, projecting the scenes against your face. 

It's kind of funny how you got yourself into this mess in the first place. The one time you decide to take the chance and branch away from the alternate antisocial hermit, your personality had adopted as its own had come back to bite you in the ass. You admit, lately, you've been neglecting your best friend. Your reasonings generally varying from the classic 'oh I was sleep' to deliberately silencing your phone, not wanting to hear the constant shrill ringing of the default ringtone. You loved Jimin, you truly did, but you could only take so much of his eccentric mashup of bubblegum and rainbow sparkles that was his personality. Eventually, guilt began eating away at you piece by piece until you ultimately caved in and invited your friend over for an impromptu movie night in your dorm room. 

Not even 30 minutes into the movie, one that you had been dying to see, might you add, Jimin commenced his drunk and high chattering. He had already started 'pre-gaming' before he came over; Six shots of straight Vodka and 2 blunts. Every day you prayed for this man's liver and brain function; with how much he drank and smoke, you would think he needed it to function. 

"Oh! Oh! Bitttch. Did I tell you about that football player, I fucckked last week!" Jimin started slurring on certain words. You noticed his eyes were glossy and glazed over. 

"No, you didn't, Chim." You sighed, completely giving up trying to watch the movie. You would have to watch it on your alone time. 

"Reeaally?" Jimin slurred, a goofy grin uplifting his lips.

"Yes, really. You haven't told me." Amusement lightly coated your voice. 

"Welll, his name is T-tae, Tae-tae something. Hold on, it's coming to me." Jimin said, rubbing the sides of his temples, trying to remember the guys' name. 

"Taehyung! That's it!" Jimin shrieked, snapping his fingers in victory.

You looked at him startled. You remember Taehyung from high school. You didn't recall him being at this college, though. Well, it wasn't like you paid attention to many things outside your bubble anyway.

"Wasn't he homophobic as fuck in high school?" You asked, genuinely interested.

"Yeah, he was. Buttt I guess he was trying to cover up, that he was actually on the DL." Jimin smiled, whispering the last part.

"DL? What's that mean?" You inquired

Jimin looked at you with a look of betrayal. "It means he's on the down-low, meaning he didn't want anyone to know he's gay. Girrl, I'm too crossfaded to be explaining this to you."

You chuckled, " My bad, Chim. So was it good?"

"Fuck, no! Dick was straight trash. The only thing that saved him a little was that his dick was huge." Jimin said, wiping away a pretend tear from the corner of his eye. 

You laughed boisterously at that. If Jimin wasn't so adamant about becoming a professional dancer. He could seriously take up a career in comedy.

"Speaking of dick. When are you gonna get some?" Jimin asked, turning his body to face you completely. As you looked at him, you noticed his eyes seemed a bit clearer, and his face wasn't as red as earlier. Not only did Jimin drink like a fish and smoke like a chimney. He was somehow able to sober just as fast.

"Oh my god, Jimin. Please don't sta-"

"Mmm, no missy," Jimin said, wagging his finger in your face.

"Don't you hear it?" He said, cupping his hand around his ear as if he was straining to hear something.

"Hear what?" You replied, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms against your chest.

"The cobwebs and tumbleweed living in your cunt."

"Jimin!" You shrieked, slapping the arm closest to you.

"Don't Jimin me! You know it's true, I swear you're gonna be a 40-year-old virgin, and by the time you finally make the decision to have sex, it'll be too late!" Jimin yelled, stumbling to stand up from the couch.

"First off, ouch. I won't be a 40-year-old virgin. That's very insulting. Second, I do plan to lose it soon. I just haven't found the time or the right guy." You said, looking down at your feet shyly. You did want to lose your virginity, but with being an introvert with a mix of social anxiety and just a dash of seasonal depression for added flavor. It was hard even to get out of bed sometimes. Much less going out and trying to find someone to do the do with.

"Oh! Well, if that's all, then I got you covered, babe. Time? Next week Friday at Jihyo's dorm. As for the right guy, I know a dude. He has like a kink for that kind of thing." Jimin answered nonchalantly, now scrolling through his phone, probably on his social media page.

You looked at Jimin, head tilted to the side, confused. "What kind of thing?"

"Oh, you know fucking virgins and shit. Popping their cherries." He said, popping his "P's."

You sputtered, exasperated. What the fuck. You didn't kink shame, that was for losers, but he can't seriously expect you to do something like that.

"What the actual fuck. Jimin, are you serious?"  

"Deadly." He said, looking you square in your eyes. His tone of voice haven dropped an octave lower.

"Jimin no. I-i can't."

"Jimin, yes! Err, I mean _____ yes, you can! Come on, it's a once in a lifetime experience. Plus, it's not like he's a total stranger. I've known him since he was 8 years old. I use to babysit the little shit head." Jimin said, waving his hand in the air, trying to swat away a rogue fly.

"Wow, Chim. You know, now that you put it like it makes me feel a lot better about the situation." You said tone dripped in sarcasm

"Really?" Jimin squealed, a delighted twinkling in his eye.

"Of course not! Don't be stupid!" Offended, you gawked at Jimin. You swear sometimes he could be so dimwitted.

"Come on, please? At least meet him, and if the vibe is not right, then you can leave no harm done." Jimin pleaded, his attention back on you. Was it crazy that you were actually thinking about agreeing to this? Jimin did have a point. It was sort of a once in a lifetime opportunity. He did know the guy, and if you didn't like the vibe, then you could just bounce, right? Right?

Sighing in defeat, your hands dragged down your face and turned towards a pouting Jimin. Grabbing at his deflated shoulders, you shook her lightly, and with urgency in your voice, you spoke, "Alright goddammit! I'll do it, but you have to stay by my side the whole time, no running off, you understand!" 

You watched Jimin's face quirk into a sly smirk. You swore you could see the cogs in his brain churning. Damn, you were going to regret this. You had the tendency to make deals when pressured. Most of the time, those agreements ended up backfiring on you, confining you in the proverbial rock and a hard place. 

"Yay! Operation: Pop _____ Cherry has commenced. Okay, so will meet at the auditorium on the art campus. From there we will walk to Jihyo's dorm, it's only five minutes. Promise me you'll actually show up and won't flake on me." A complacent expression rested arrogantly on Jimin's features, a single pinky finger extended towards you. 

"Don't give this situation a not-so-secret code name. And I can't believe I'm saying this but, I promise." You agreed, interlocking pinky fingers, yours thumbs coming up to press against one another.

"So I'll meet you at the location Friday, don't be late, and wear something sexy. No granny clothes." he chirped, making his way to your front door.

"Wait! You're leaving already?" you frowned, looking at the clock on your wall. He's only been here for an hour, and 30 mins of it were spent persuading you to hurry up and lose your virginity. You didn't even get to finish the movie together.

"Sorry babe, but I have a dick appointment." he shrugged, putting his arms through the sleeves of his jacket.

"Can you at least tell me the name of the guy who's supposed to fuck me?" you huffed, honestly you were done for tonight. As soon as Jimin left, you were heading straight for bed.

"Oh yeah, how could I forget." Jimin slaps the center of his forehead. "He's a real cutie. I would fuck him if he wasn't as straight as an arrow." Jimin looks off to a far wall, eyeing it with jealousy.

"Just tell me his name, please." You pleaded. Oh yeah, that's definitely a headache forming. You could feel it already. Jimin snaps out of his daydreaming and spins his body towards you.

"Jungkook."

Time skip to a week later, and precisely as you suspected, what a mistake that whole conversation was. Now here you were at this fucking dorm party with people you didn't know or care to get to know. Jimin had left you as soon as he saw his next piece of ass. Restlessly you hauled down the short black dress that insisted on riding up your ass, the soles of your feet protesting in the slim heeled shoes. Floundering your way into the packed building, you couldn't help but query where Jungkook was. Jimin was supposed to get around to send you a picture of the mystery man, but that never happened. Funny how now was the best time you decided to question why exactly Jimin was your best friend.

"Well damn, the pictures Jimin sent me doesn't do you justice at all. You're fucking hot." You recoiled from the closeness of the voice, the heated breath sending chills skittering down your spine, and the hairs on the back of your neck ramrod straight. Heat spurred to your face when you whisked around to meet an absolutely gorgeous guy. Like unfairly gorgeous guy. You stared wide-eyed, taking in his chiseled facial features, paired with wide doe eyes and bunny smile decorating his face. Somehow, someway he's mastered looked soft and sexy at the same damn time. And fuck was that a dangerous combination for your pussy. Your heart too, but more so your cunt.

"U-uh, thanks? Who are you exactly?" You watch as he recoils back from your with a look of apprehension on his face.

"A-are you not ____?" he stutters cutely. You think you can see the beginnings of a blush burning his cheeks. You nod your head once to confirm his question. He stared at you a minute longer before you see the recognition spark in his chocolate orbs.

"Jimin didn't send you my picture did he?" Shaking his head with his eyes close, you get the courage the scan his face a bit more. Yeah. He's definitely blushing.

"Sorry. I guess seeing you here, I thought Jimin would have...prepared you better." Shaking your head from side to side because your words refused to come out. You watched as he backed up a bit further from your personal space and thrust his right hand out to you. 

"The name's Jungkook, or J.K. Whatever suits your taste."

With clammy hands, you taking his outstretched hand marveled at how it almost covers your hand. Now that he's moved back from you, you now had to chance to see how tall he really was. Maybe about 6 to 7 inches taller. You look down at his feet and eye his combat boot, perhaps a little shorter but still taller. And big, yeah, definitely bigger. His oversized black jacket did little to hide the broadness of his shoulders and chest. You let your eyes travel down the length of his body. You bet he's hiding some killer abs under his shirt. And holy fuck, his thighs.

"You like what you see, baby girl?" Teasing, he's teasing but God, if his voice didn't make you pussy throbbing pathetically. Whimpering slightly, you let out a meek "Yes." God, you hope he didn't hear that.

Much to your dismay, he did, hear you. How he heard you with the music as loud as it was, was a mystery to you. But you watched his pupils dilate, and his nostrils flare slightly. Jungkook tucks his bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes rake up and down your scantily clad body. His heated stare scrutinized across your body, intrigue exerting over him, as he analyzed the way the snug-fitting dress molded to the curves of your shape. He could tell you didn't do this often. His dick twitched in his jeans with enthusiasm. 

It's the increase in pressure of your hand that makes you realize you're still holding his hand. You go to retract your hand from his. However, yelp shrilly as he tugs you closer to his body. Both hands now resting on his chest, and his wrapped around your waist. Fuck, you could feel the warmth and coarseness of his hands through your thin dress. A spontaneous tremor racked your body. The heat-transmitting from his frame mixed with the floral yet musky undertone of his cologne made you somewhat featherbrained.

"Fuck, you're so soft." You squeak as he squeezes your waistline, pulling you even closer against his body. You were now putty in his hands.

"Jimin told you my....preferences, right?" his voice caressed your ear. Just a slight movement or subtle twitch, and his lips would be on your skin.

"Y-yeah, he did." It should be an embarrassment how frail and breathless you sounded, but that didn't matter.

Jungkook hid his smile behind your ear. This was just too easy. Just how he liked it. He almost felt bad- almost. He was gonna ruin you utterly and completely, mold the shape of cock in the walls of your pussy. His name spilling from your lips, voice going hoarse by how loud he would make you scream. Fuck he couldn't wait. He's had virgin's before, a lot of them. That's his whole M.O. The cherry popper, virgin fucker, whatever. Jungkook's heard all the names in the book. But there's just something about you, you just had an air of genuine innocence, and he couldn't wait to defile it. 

Jungkook pulls his head back, enough to where his eyes can trail over the bared skin of your neck, and the sprinkling of perspiration sparkling off the bright strobing lights, no doubt from nervousness. His tongue traced over his thin upper lip, watching the droplets of sweat spiral down the curve of your neck. He wanted to taste you. 

"Alright, then." He jerks his body away from you. You're no longer touching his chest, but his hands are still on your waist. 

"Let's enjoy the party before the fun really begins. Every done body shots before?" Jungkook spoke casually, undeterred by the way you recoiled back or the look of stupor on your face.

"W-what? B-body shots, why?" you squeaked, failing to keep from stuttering over your words. Is this how it's supposed to go? Is this normal? You're bewildered, and just a bit perturbed. Were you just imagining that sexual tension that was going on just moments ago? For sure, you thought Jungkook was gonna throw you over his shoulders and haul you off to the nearest unoccupied bedroom or bathroom. At that instant, you didn't care. 

Jungkook regarded the war of emotions wage across your features, merriment and strobing lights twinkling in his eyes. Fuck, you were cute, so desperate staring up at him with a pout on your face a puppy dog eyes. He could honestly just take you back to the closest room and fuck the shit out of you. But he wanted to play with his prey, a bit more. The wait made it that much more satisfying.

"Don't pout too much, baby girl or I may not be able to contain myself. Follow me. The table is this way."

Jungkook didn't indulge in answering any of your questions you rambled off at him, delighted to see you trailing on his heels like a lost pup. Jungkook directed you further into the dorm, and like a dog on a leash, you followed. In the center of a sparse room sat a scraped up black table. You observed the area. It was devoid of many people. The several that were present made no recognition of your proximity in their intoxicated state.

"So who's first?" Jungkook asked, setting the bottle of tequila, rim salt, and limes down on the table.

"U-uh, I don't know. I guess it doesn't matter." You shrugged hesitantly. You were way out of your element here.

"Perfect then, you first." Jungkook should be ashamed by how excited he was at getting to sample your skin. It looked smooth, felt soft when he had you in his arms, and would no doubt probably taste as sweet as it seemed. You nodded in docility, wandering over to crawl on top of the table, being attentive to your dress. You lay flattened against the table, shiverings racking your body as he began pouring a trail of salt between your cleavage. 

He poured himself a shot in the depression of your throat and tore the lime in half with his bare hands. Smirking at how you flinched when he thumped the liquor bottle down beside your head. Jungkook pushed the other half of the unevenly split lime towards your lips, a silent gesture to take the lime in your mouth. Jungkook watched as your lips curled gently around the hull of the green citrus. A flare of lust stirred in his loins at the action. He couldn't wait to see your lips stretched around the head of his cock. He observed your eyes clamped closed as he began dropping his head forward to your chest. It was adorable and innocent. He noted the way your lips slackened around the citrus in your mouth, your chest heaving in speed, the closer his tongue trailed to your neck.

You tasted splendid, just as sweet as he thought. The salt on your skin did nothing to deter your natural flavor. If anything, it enhanced your sweetness, rendering your skin damn near mouth-watering. Jungkook's ears perked at the breathless moans slipping past the fruit perched against your lips, drawn out by the repeated pass of the wet, pink appendage lapping at the salt line between the valley of your breast. Committing your muffled moans to memory, he lapped persistently at the collection of salt and tequila in the hollow at the base of your neck.

You face flammed in embarrassment as panting moans effortlessly tumbled from your mouth. Who knew your chest and neck was such an erogenous spot. Despite your shame, you couldn't stop wriggling, shifting your thighs together for some form of friction to sate the rising arousal dampening your panties. You yelped at the sensation of blunt teeth nibbling at your skin before soft lips came to suck at the shallow indentations. Fluffy hair with an undercut came into your line of vision as Jungkook lifted his head up to your lips. Your heart stammered tortuously against your ribs, flirtatious eyes stared lidded with searing lust, his head advanced closer to your lips. Your eyes fluttered closed, lips puckering against the bitter hull of the lime.

Jungkook closed the distance, slanting his mouth over the lime, blocking his contact with yours. He sucked against the sour fruit, acidity puckering his lips, residual tartness flowing to your cracked lips. Jungkook withdrew from your mouth, taking the drained lime hull with it. Your saccharine moans were heaven to his ears. It had awoken something inside him, fueled his fire in knowing that possibly no one had ever heard such a sweet sound. He wanted more, craved more. 

"Have you ever been kissed before, sweetheart?" Your eyes followed the movement of his tongue, poking out to moistening his lips. 

"Yeah, once in like 3rd grade." Who hasn't snuck behind a tree or hid underneath the dark coverings of playground equipment to lock lips with a childhood crush?

He grinned salaciously, body moving to rest between your spread legs. Oh, now he was really excited. Your lips were practically untouched. Just another part of your body to claim first. You jumped when palms pressed flat against the revealed skin of your thigh. Gently, Jungkook rubbed lazy circles on your skin, never lowering or furthering than the hem of your dress. He felt you wiggle beneath his hands, observed your eyes, glimpsing―darting about, should you concentrate on his face, or his hand, uncertainty was etched on your face.

"Amazing." He groaned, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks, before grinning again. His face inched closer to yours, his lips but a breath apart, warmth flickered against your lips as he talked, level and smooth. " Well, how about I become your second?

And then his lips were on you, the soft muscle mangled itself to your lips, tentative and sluggish to give you a chance to register his mouth slanted upon yours. Jungkook chuckled against your lips at your unresponsiveness. He guesses you were a little shell shocked. It only takes a few more stagnant seconds before you're shyly reciprocating his kiss. Delicate, shaky movements highlighted your inexperience. Increasingly, Jungkook increased the pressure behind lips, his hands spreading to enclose around your waist, dragging you closer against him. One of Jungkook's hands removed from your waist to bury itself in your hair, gently his fingernails scratched against your scalp, an airy moan was his reward. 

Hands completely abandoning your midsection, one gripped the meat of your thigh, pulling you to the edge of the table, flush against the tent of his denim jean encased manhood, the other embedded in your strands pulled sharply on your roots, a loud gasp tearing from you. Jungkook took that opportunity to advance his tongue into your gaped mouth. His tongue wrapped itself around yours, briefly wrestling for dominance before easily pinning your tongue in submission. His hips ground against yours, the heat of your covered core teased him through his jeans. 

He thoroughly explored your mouth, swallowing the now copious cries leaving your mouth. Reluctantly, Jungkook tore himself from your kiss-swollen lips. The ravished looked suited you perfectly. You looked beautiful, thighs brazenly spread, eyes glazed over in lust, your sticky chest heaving from the length of the shared kiss. Even in the dim lights, he could make out the taunt pebbling of your nipples. 

Your mouth gaped wide, flapping about like a fish out of water, trying despairingly to draw air into your lungs. Your first kiss definitely didn't compare to this much. Your wide eyes flicked between Jungkook and the floor, your bottom lip tucked firmly between your teeth, feeling shy as he just stares at you. Releasing your teeth from your lips, you timidly touched your mouth, admiring how plump they've gotten from the intense liplock.

Wordlessly Jungkook hitched you over his shoulder, winded with a grunt as his defined shoulder blades dug into your stomach and what sounded like a growled vibrate up into you. You squirmed lightly in his hold, scared he was going to drop you, and secondly, your panty-clad ass on display for the party-goers, not that anyone was looking. 

You watched the continuous panels of hardwood floor move beneath you as Jungkook carried you to an unknown destination. You couldn't believe you were really doing this. Were you actually going to have sex with a complete stranger? Someone who was known for explicitly fucking virgins. Realistically, you should be ashamed, yet, you conceded full control to him without a second thought. What did that say about you? About your character? Would you now be labeled as 'easy' or a 'hoe' after all this was done? What was going to happen between you and Jungkook? 

The flick of a switch stirred from your thoughts. You shield your eyes with your hand at the bright lights pouring into the room, or rather a bathroom. Jungkook loved the confusion marring your features. He wouldn't fuck you in his bedroom just yet. That was a privilege you would have to earn, no matter how intrigued he had become with you. There's always humiliation to be had in the corruption of innocence, and fucking you in the bathroom was a good start. He planned on making you watch him as he destroyed your body, popping your cherry, stretching your tight virginal hole to accommodate his length, and claimed it as his own. Jungkook shuddered at the thought, his possessive nature taking a turn for the worst. 

Impatiently Jungkook sat you on top of the bathroom sink counter, his lips smashed against yours, the previous tenderness was gone, vanished into a puff of smoke. Teeth banged, and tongues flailed recklessly against each other in the heat of passion, with you struggling to keep up with the demands of his dominating kiss. Thick fingers trailed beneath the hem of your dress, tickling the expanse of your thighs. Jungkook wasted no time in shifting your slick soaked panties to the side, a warm digit gliding effortlessly through your damn folds.

"Fuck, you're already so wet. You're enjoying this a little too much, baby girl." Jungkook growled, panting against your lips. His finger breached your sex, you tensed deftly around the foreigner intrusion, stretching your weeping walls. 

"Ah, Jungkook." You cried listlessly, rocking your hips against his stilled finger. He felt so good inside you, and it was just his finger. Maybe this experience wouldn't be as bad as you heard. Now you couldn't wait to see what his cock felt like embedded deep within your pussy. Jungkook pumped slowly, eventually introducing a second finger to help loosen you up more. You were gonna be a tight fit, very tight, but that just made it even better. You hissed at the slight burn as he began scissoring his fingers apart with each withdrawal. Your hands wrapped around his neck as you buried your head against his broad chest, your mellifluous moans suppressed by the fabric of his shirt. 

"G-go faster, please." You begged, your body adjusting and quickly becoming frustrated by the snail's pace his fingers were pumping. You bucked your hips against his hands, hoping he would ease the growing discomfort boiling in your stomach. 

"Have you ever had an orgasm before, babe?" You nodded eagerly at his question, whining as you bucked against his hand again.

"Oh, really? Who gave it to you." Slow, he was going too slow you wanted, no you needed more friction, more stimulation from him.

"M-me. I-i did." Jungkook loved how you stuttered, it stroked his ego and filled him with arrogance to know it was him, and only that was capable of making you stumble over your words.

"Mmm, and how did you do it? Did you rub this little clit of yours raw?" You cried louder when his thumb flicked at your clit, the stimulation further drawing the appendage from its hood.

"Or did you fuck this tight hole, with these tiny fingers of yours?" At those words, a loud, choked moan, even muffled by your face in his chest, echoed throughout the white bathroom. Jungkook had gone deeper inside, almost to the third knuckle. Another moan left your lips as he twisted his fingers inside you, his palm now facing upwards.

"Though you and I bought know they couldn't possibly reach deep enough to touch the spot you really want." It's euphoric, no better yet orgasmic, the sheer shock of electric pleasure that zaps through your body when he finds the spongy bundle of nerves. Your body jerked heavily, legs go to snap close, only to be stopped by his broad body between your thighs.

He chuckles softly, stroking your thigh with his other hand. Jungkook shifts his head down, bringing his mouth closer to your ear. He exhales quietly, warm air tinged with tequila and lime caresses the light hairs on you around your ear. " I found it, huh?"

You whimper, rubbing your head up and down against his chest.

"You want me to speed up the pace, sweetheart?" Jungkook's voice is delicate now, so gentle. But you're confused, overwhelmed, and scared. It's never felt like this when you did it yourself. Your not sure if you could handle the feeling, so you don't provide an answer to Jungkook's question.

"Don't ignore me ____, that's not nice manners. I'll ask again." You clench around his fingers as Jungkook inches just a bit deeper. 

"Do you. Want me. To go faster?" With each pause, he arches his fingers in a 'come here' motion, pressing deeply against your bundle of nerves, the sensation of having to pee accompanied with each thrust.

 "Y-yes, faster, more. Pl-lease." Fuck, you sounded so pretty begging for him if he wasn't addicted before. You had him sprung now. Jungkook buried his face in the crook of your neck, the sharp smell of tequila and salt still lingering on your skin. He sucked at the junction where your shoulder and neck met. You bucked harder against his fingers, your juices now dripping to coat his palm is sticky cream.

"If you wanted more. Why didn't you just ask?" Jungkook said deviously. Confused, you felt withdraw his sticky digits, walls gripping to stop their departure. Without warning, Jungkook flipped you over onto the counter, your knees buckled at the sudden change in position. Your faced burning at your displayed state, droplets of your essence dribbled from your pussy, slicking up your inner thighs. You yelped as Jungkook grasped at the length of your hair, pulling back pointedly, your neck craned back to observe him addressing you in the mirror.

"You've been wondrous for me ____. Such a sweet girl." He expressed, his empty hand disappearing behind your perked ass to fiddle with the groin of his pants. 

"Truly, you have. Your response and reactions to my touch have really gotten me riled up. It's been a while since I've tittered on the edge of losing control." You wheezed, starting to panic as you felt the thick head of his cock slap teasingly against your slicked throbbing hole. Oh, God, he's huge. Jungkook's cock might just tear you apart. You shifted your hips forward, pressing against the cold marble of the bathroom counters door.

"I-i don't think, I can t-take it Jungkook, you're too b-big. It's my first-time, r-remember?” Your stuttering worse now, but you're scared.

Jungkook pulls your hips back with the hand the was grasping his length, the side of your hip now coated in his pre-cum. His hand lays flat in the crease of your back, forcing you into a perfect arch. 

"You can take it, all of it. And don't worry, of course, I remembered your fragility. I'll go slow, I promise." You plead silently with your eye contact through the mirror. 

"You ready?" You nod once an advert your eyes down to the sink.

Your mouth shakily falls agape as he slowly began pushing the head of his cock into you. It burns, but not as bad as you had anticipated. You take the chance to look back up into the mirror, adamant about giving Jungkook a thankful smile for his gentleness. That vision that greets looks like it jumped right off the page of your favorite erotic story. 

Jungkook's got his head thrown back, the edge of his t-shirt clenched tightly between his teeth, your eyes trail the drip of sweat that follows the curve of his jawline. You have a clear view of his abs all the way down to the v-cut of his hip, to the happy trail that leads to a neatly trimmed bush of pubic hair. You clench tightly around him, efficiently aroused by the view. You feel his cock throbbed heavily inside you, even getting bigger if possible.

"You like that, sweet girl? You like seeing me struggling to contain myself because you're so tightly around me. This little pussy trying to milk me for all I can give you." You love it. You feel powerful in a way. Do you really feel that good around him?

"Yes." Jungkook draws out the 'S.' 

"You feel amazing, so warm and wet. I wished you could see how coated in white you've got me, and I'm not even all the way in yet."

You scream soundless as he bucks into you, shoving in half of his length. It doesn't hurt anymore. You just feel stuffed full. Lifting a trembling hand, you take the chance a feel the lower part. You noticed swelling that wasn't there before, intrigued; you push down against it, moaning in shock you realize it's Jungkook's cock. 

"Yeah, baby girl, that's all me, well, most of me. You ready to take the rest?"

"Yes! Please!" That's the clearest you've been all night. You don't get an answer as Jungkook immediately picks up his pacing, thrusting into you faster. He wastes no time pumping deeply into your tight pussy, his tip smashing against the entrance to your cervix as you pant and grit your teeth in slight discomfort, overshadowed by pleasure. The burning sensation is back as he fucks in deeper with each brutal and swift stroke. But you don't care cause it still feels amazing. You can hear yourself, sloppy and soaking wet, echoing throughout the bathroom. You're drooling down his pistoning cock. You can feel it dripping down your inner thighs. Your head jerks violently against your shoulders, to weak support your head from his menacing thrust. 

Tightened vocal cords released strained shrieks of praise; from your mouth, drool dripping from your lips, into the sticky cleavage of your breast, and sweat coated your skin. The coil in your stomach was quickly tightening, never had you felt anything so deep inside you. If you ever had sex with anyone else, they would never compare to Jungkook.  You were fucked both figuratively and literally.

Jungkook pulled you further from off the sink, the new position allowing him even deeper. You clawed at the marble tops underneath your fingers, your eyes rolling in the back of your head. That sensation of having to pee is back again.

"J-K, I-m. I have to-," You don't get to finish as the band in your stomach snapped. Silently you announced your release; if it wasn't for the new wave of cum coating his cock, or the fluttering tightness of your walls, Jungkook might have missed your orgasm. He wasn't far behind you. The constant clenching of your ridged walls around his cock, had him reaching his limit sooner than he would like. Jungkook had half a mind to pull out but decided to gamble his odds. You're the first person he's fucked raw in a while, and with three deep thrusts later, he was shooting his hot seed right against your cervix. 

Breathing heavily, Jungkook lets you fall against the sink, observing as you crumpled against the sink countertop. Pride swelled his chest as he watched his seed bubble out of your well-used hole. He's never contemplated going farther with the virgins he fucked. He wouldn't make any hasty decisions now though there were still a lot of things he wanted to do with you. He would sleep on it and revisit the idea in the morning.

"So would you say, Operation: Pop Your Cherry was a success?"

You giggled, winded, still having difficulty catching your breath. You straighten up against the bathroom counter, the majority of your weight still resting on the object as you had yet to regain the feeling in your legs.

"Jimin and his stupid code names. I swear when I get a hold ass, he's dead." You warned already preparing your revenge on your best friend. You stare at Jungkook in the eyes through the mirror, smile a bit goofy, you say.

"Operation: Pop My Cherry. Mission complete."

#bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook #bts oneshot #bts smut reactions #bts #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #bts college au #jungkook college au #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #ao3 #jungkook x reader

[redorich]

for the hermit canyon, i humbly request:

Etho messing with Karl and maybe like, Lazarbeam or Fundy, by pretending he’s moth man.

Quackity stalks through the woods, blissfully unaware of its other inhabitants-- not that he would care, if he knew. No, tonight, under the full moon (because it's romantic) he makes his move.

The Hermit, as Quackity is completely sure of, is a beautiful young woman with long flowing hair as white as snow. Because she is a creature of untold power and beauty, fairy tale logic obviously applies. Therefore, if Quackity can steal her clothes, she will have no choice but to marry him and they will live happily ever after as big booty bitches in love.

Nodding to himself, Quackity feels assured in his logic. He's wearing his favorite assless chaps, his best pair of knockoff Yeezys, and no shirt. He is ready for what is to come.

---

Karl lurks deep in the forest, illuminated only by the moon. He leans against a tree, taking care not to disturb his outfit-- he is camouflaged as a bush. Dangling strips of green and brown fabric cover his body, and his limbs are completely hidden in the costume so long as he stands still. It's a daunting task, standing still in the dark, dangerous woods at night. Nevertheless, Karl knows that this is what he must do.

"Triclops Mothman, my beloved," he whispers into the night. He will find Mothman, and he will marry Mothman. There is no alternative.

---

Far away from both Karl and Quackity, though still in the same spruce forest, Sapnap angrily prowls. Well, he'd describe it as a prowl. Truthfully, it's more of a pouty stomp. He knows that this forest has had multiple "Hermit sightings", and Sapnap wants-- no, needs what he's after.

"Hermit!" he screams into the night. "Come out and fight me, you little bitch! Man on man!"

To emphasize his point, he bangs a pot and a pan against each other several times. Sapnap is getting his revenge for that little ravager prank, one way or another.

---

Deep within the canyon walls, the Hermit complex looks like an overturned anthill with all its activity. It's Halloween night come early.

"I'm not wearing a dress," Etho insists.

Grian whines, "But Etho, I made it just for you! It matches Stress's outfit."

Stress, upon hearing her name, looks up from her book and waves. Cleo is currently fiddling with the thick mane of synthetic white hair Stress is wearing, styling the wig into a princess-y type braid.

"I'll say it again," Cleo says, looking very intently into Etho's eyes, "I could take your place."

"No," Etho sighs. "If what Puffy said about these guys is true, you'd probably bite someone's face off by the end of the night."

"You're no fun," Cleo huffs, but acquiesces.

"At least put on the wig," Grian demands.

Grian and Etho have a staring contest for a solid ninety seconds before Etho snaps his fingers in front of Grian's face, causing him to flinch and blink. "You cheater--!"

"I'll wear the wig," Etho interrupts Grian. Instantaneously, Grian loses his outraged moue.

Cleo sighs. "They're the same wig, right? Do I have to braid Etho's hair, too?"

"I think I'll be fine with my new flowing, luscious locks," Etho says with a humorous crinkle to his eyes.

They all laugh as Etho dramatically flips his fake hair, whipping himself in the face with it in the process. He also receives a thumbs up from Joe, who is in the process of searching for his contact lenses because "Herobrine doesn't wear glasses", according to Bdubs.

Night falls, and the Hermits are prepared. They hope their victims aren't.

---

Quackity catches a glimpse of silver-white after so long searching in the woods. With a little gasp, he eagerly pursues it. His beautiful maiden, ethereal and distant like the moon, darts between trees and leaps across creeks like she is flying, like her feet barely touch the ground.

He follows her to a clearing, but when he bursts through the brush into the open space, she is nowhere to be found.

“Mi rey!” he wails, “Fantasma hermosa! Come to papi!”

Etho, hiding in a tree about five feet away, has no clue what any of those words mean. He affects a terrible falsetto and throws his voice. “Hello, Quackity.”

Quackity jumps, looking around wildly for his beautiful girlboss queen. “Hermit?! You know my name?”

“Of course, Quackity,” Etho says, hefting a large rock in his hand. “Come closer, I have a cask of Amontillado we can share.”

Quackity turns toward Etho's voice just fast enough to catch a glimpse of the Hermit's mask, his (fake) long white hair, his decidedly not female appearance. Quackity looks the Hermit up and down. Etho has never felt more Perceived.

"What's a place like you doing in a guy like this?" Quackity says, flirtatiousness dripping from his voice.

Etho eyes the man's assless chaps with distaste from his crouched perch in a tree. Quick as lightning, he chucks the heavy rock in his hand at Quackity's head, knocking him out instantly.

Etho jumps down from his tree with a huffed sigh. "Well," he says, grabbing Quackity by the ankle and dragging him, "time to get to work."

---

"Pspspsps," Karl whispers, "heeeere Mothman..."

The sound of a twig snapping to his right makes Karl freeze, then turn ever so slowly. There's no one there. Karl holds his breath for what feels like an eternity, but is eventually forced to admit that the noise was probably just an animal. Surely, a creature of Mothman's size would make more noise when he walks, given the weight of his strong legs.

"Mothman," Karl says. "I wrote you a poem!"

Joe, who was up until this point hiding behind trees and ominously snapping twigs, feels a twinge of morbid curiosity. As a poet, he absolutely has to know what Karl considers an adequate love poem for Mothman.

With red cheeks, Karl professes his love:

"Your feelers make me feel so sweet

Your hindwings set my heart aflame

Fern-like antennae make me melt

And Mothman, you're to blame."

Despite himself, Joe is a little bit impressed. It almost makes him feel bad about what he's about to do-- almost.

A soft eerie glow seeps into the forest, catching Karl's eye. He investigates, creeping forward until he turns around a tree and sees glowing white eyes. He screams, but there is no sound, and the forest has disappeared. Only those eyes remain, and they too flicker out of existence.

There is a dim corridor ahead of him, narrow and lit by redstone torches. At the end, there is an iron door. He runs to the exit, but as soon as his hand touches the door it disappears and he is engulfed by swirling purple-- like a Nether portal, but so much more terrifying.

The purple is gone and he can just barely make out the menacing image of a man with glowing white eyes T-posing in the blackness. Karl opens his eyes and wakes up on the forest floor, prone and sore.

"Right," he mutters breathlessly to himself, "Mothman is not interested."

---

"--YOU BITCH ASS PUNK, I'M GONNA RIP YOUR LEGS OFF AND STICK 'EM ON YOUR HEAD!" Sapnap screams, banging the only pot he owns against a non-stick frying pan he stole from George.

"Well, that's not very nice, innit?" says a feminine voice. Sapnap looks left, right, behind him, up in the trees... then down.

Big brown eyes peer up at him through white bangs. A displeased pout set into a moon-pale face attached to an equally moon-pale woman chastises him without words.

"...You're the Hermit?" Sapnap says disbelievingly. He has his doubts that someone as small and pretty as this woman could wrangle a ravager onto his front lawn.

"You wanted a fight," she huffs. "And for the record, you totally had it coming, with Pamela's Revenge-- remember, the rava--"

"Yes, I know the ravager was named Pamela's Revenge! There were like eight hundred million death messages in chat about it, you jackass!" Sapnap snaps, trying to cover up his unease. It's not that he's hesitant to hit her because she's a girl; he would deck the shit out of Niki or Puffy with absolutely no provocation whatsoever. It's just that... she looks soft. Like a non-combatant. It would be too easy, too cruel--

Stress punches Sapnap in the jaw with a wicked right hook. "Stealing is wrong," she says.

While Sapnap is dazed and quite possibly mildly concussed, Stress follows up with a brutal kick to the shin. Sapnap makes a genuine effort to fight back, and he’s no slouch, but he’s been taken so thoroughly off guard that the best he can do with his head spinning as it is is to swing with a wild haymaker and hope it hits.

His fist makes contact with something soft and squishy. He hears a grunt, but Stress shoves him over onto the ground and dumps a bucket of glitter over his head. It burns his eyes, but more importantly it burns his pride. He doesn’t remember at what point he dropped his pot and pan (he must have at some point, because he punched the Hermit with an empty fist), but he’s angry enough to open his watery eyes through the magenta glitter and snatch George’s frying pan up off the forest floor, hurling it at the Hermit with devastating accuracy. She yelps, blocking with her forearm at the last moment.

“Knew I shoulda let Etho...” Sapnap hears the Hermit mutter. What’s an Etho?

Stress irritably bonks Sapnap on the head with the pan he threw at her. He goes limp like a ragdoll, and Stress sets about maneuvering his body into a sitting position leaned against a tree so she can do his makeup while he sleeps.

“Hope I don’t poke his eye out!” she says. “Ah well, he’s got two anyway. Now, should I go for a cute, summery look, or a dark evening look?”

---

In Atrium 1 of the Hermit Canyon complex, Puffy laughs loud and clear, clutching her paper cup tightly so she doesn’t spill her fruit punch. "No,” she chokes out, “he didn’t.”

Cub, holding a similar paper cup, waves his hand in a vague gesture. “Yep. That’s Etho for you. You know, one time he got Doc to run around with a snowman head on, eating spider eyes?”

“Oh man,” Puffy sighs, wiping a tear of laughter from the corner of her eye. “I’m so glad I snitched on Karl, Quackity, and Sapnap. I can’t wait to see their reactions!”

Cub grins evilly. “Stress got pictures before she left.”

Puffy gasps, stars in her eyes. “I’ll bake you a whole cake if you get me a copy.”

“I’ll bake Cub a whole cake if he gives them to me instead,” Grian interjects from across the room. “I don’t need them, I just want to take them from you.”

“Nooooo!” Puffy wails melodramatically. “Grian, please spare me!”

“Five diamond blocks,” Grian makes his demand.

Puffy continues to fake-sob, pretending not to notice Scar sneaking up on Grian until Scar drops an anvil on Grian’s head, like a Looney Tunes episode but slightly to the left. While Grian is distracted, Cub slips the pictures to Puffy, who puts them in her inventory without looking.

Etho walks into the Atrium, now dressed as his normal self, including his natural hair, which looks like an angry wet cat perched atop his head, just the way he likes it. Everyone cheers.

“So, how’d it go with Quackity?” Puffy asks with a smirk.

“Well...” Etho says.

---

Quackity wakes up with the sun in his eyes. In front of him is the public Nether portal, and standing right in front of it is a wide-eyed Sam, staring directly at him. Quackity looks down.

He’s naked, covered in half-dried honey, and tied to a pole like the world’s sexiest flag. And he’s got the world’s worst hangover-- it feels like he’s been hit in the head with a large rock.

“Not again,” he groans.

“...This happens often?” Sam asks.

“If I had a nickel for every time something like this has happened,” Quackity says, wiggling his way out of the ropes tying him to the pole, “I’d have enough money to go buy myself a pair of pants.”

Sam averts his eyes to the sky, abruptly aware of exactly why Quackity would feel the need to buy a pair of pants.

“Damn it,” Quackity says. “Those were my favorite pair of assless chaps.”

“Were they now,” Sam says numbly. The sky is quite blue today, it’s rather beautiful.

Quackity huffs in aggravation, finally having freed himself from his binds. “Yeah, they just don’t make ‘em like they used to, you know?”

“Not really, no,” Sam says slowly. “I wouldn’t know much about-- assless chaps.”

The naked man shrugs. Haltingly, Sam unclasps his cape, pulling it off his shoulders and offering it to Quackity.

“Nah,” Quackity says, “I’ll just streak.”

“Please don’t,” Sam says with pain in his eyes.

#mcyt #hc x dsmp #hermit canyon au #quackity #karl jacobs #sapnap #grian #ethoslab #stressmonster #zombiecleo #captain puffy #joe hills #goodtimeswithscar #cubfan135 #awesamdude #me.cpp #me.txt

[multiplefandomsblog]

request; I am lusting for the emo boy 👉👈 Could I get something where the reader gives him a bj after he had a stressful day

warnings; bj, deep-throating, cussing, cum-eating, shuichi is receiving, reader is gender-neutral.

note; im trying to think of a song to go with this hold up- (yes thats all i have for my note, im running out of things to say-)

OH SHIT YES!!! SANGRIA?? BY EASY LIFE??? ARLO PARKS??? OR GET YOU BY DANIEL CAESER!!!!!

wc; 2k+

Slapping the screen of his work computer shut, the sudden and loud noise kept him awake for just a little longer. Shuichi brought both of his cold hands to his face, rubbing the eye bags that had formed as a result of his overworking and lack of sleep.

“God…” It took him everything he had to not yell into his slightly trembling hands. His fingers tangled themselves in his hair as he stood up from the chair that had made his backside ache, breathing out the pent-up stress he had cultivated throughout the… He checked his watch, drooping eyes barely able to read the hands of the miniature clock. 

—The twelve hours of sitting down, typing in and submitting in files, piled onto files regarding a tough case. He’d be lying if he wasn’t at least a little used to this shit work ethic. 

The first thought his mind allowed him to possess after draining his brain completely out of energy, had been, ‘S/o...-, I hope they didn’t forget to eat today.’ He hadn’t gotten the chance to monitor you, nor text or call you; his phone, to kick off the day, hadn’t charged properly the day before, leaving his phone with 3%. The moment he had tried to text you mid-way through his extended work period, his phone had given up on him, leaving him frustrated and worried. 

Sighing, he quickly packed up his things, ready to leave the suffocating, but honestly quite nicely designed office— to see you. He was so close to just falling asleep on the nice, cold surface of his computer, but the thought of you waking up to an empty bed had his heart, crumbling over something he hadn’t done yet. And hadn’t planned to do, either. 

Exiting the office, he called a taxi as he was too deprived of sleep to safely drive.

---------------------------------------------------------—

Hearing the door open, you immediately rushed to the front door, almost slipping on the waxy surface of the wood floor against your fuzzy socks. 

Pulling back, your eyes held a different emotion as you gazed into Shuichi’s tired but loving orbs; your eyes no longer contained the same soul-crushing worry for him. Instead, they had held a needy lust. Could you blame yourself? It had been twelve hours. Shuichi let out a quiet startled noise as you started dragging him to the couch, he did nothing but let you; too tired to ask what you were doing despite having the sneaking suspicion he already knew. No one can overlook a stare like that; you’d have to be blind to. 

Pushing him onto the couch with little effort, he watched with intrigued eyes as you got to your knees and sat in between his knees, your own gaze locking onto his as you lowered yourself to the point where you had to crane your neck to properly see his pretty, flushed face. 

Golden eyes flashed in need, small whines spilling from his trembling lips as he slightly parted his thighs for you to drag your fingers further up into. “You worked all day, Shuichi… C’mon, just a taste?” You looked up at him, doe eyes pleading and tongue swiping across your bottom lip entrancingly, as Shuichi’s golden eyes followed the glistening muscle. He could already imagine your tongue swirling around the tip of his— 

“A-a little… A little taste. Please.” Ten hours of neglect, and the craving for his musk only augmented with each agonizing second that passed by. His eyes widened at the sultry tone you equipped; had he really worked so long to the point you were on your knees for him? “I...”

Yes, yes he had. It had been twelve hours, and you were worried sick. Not only that, the poor boy looked so tense and stressed, it had given you the urge to just strap him to the bed and force him to sleep, and nothing else. Knowing him, he wouldn’t have allowed himself the proper amount of hours of sleep, and food he needed to stay alive.

A part of him didn’t want to take advantage of your state, but a part of him already knew you wouldn’t let up until you got what you wanted; it’s not like he detested the idea of getting sucked off. “O-okay.”

He let out a small gasp as he felt you suddenly play with the zipper of his pants, your fingers ‘accidentally’ brushing against the growing erection he hadn’t noticed he had. You watched him carefully, fighting the urge to laugh as he arched his back against the couch; you didn’t want to embarrass him, you simply wanted to help him de-stress. 

Deciding you’d focus more on him than your own sadistic desires, you quickly halted your teasing and zipped open his fly, wasting no time to reach down the waistband of his navy blue boxers and pin-striped pants, erupting a gasp from him as he hadn’t been expecting it to escalate so fast.

Gingerly, you pulled out the hardening cock that seemed to twitch in your hold, only causing you to smile at the cute reaction. Though Shuichi’s facial expression had been incomparable to his cock. You had barely down anything to him, and his whole entire face flushed red, a hand already clamped over his mouth that concealed the lip he had been chewing at so aggressively. 

Stroking your thumb over the pretty pink tip of his cock, you cooed at it, already finding yourself craning your neck down to kiss the tip of it, causing Shuichi to jolt up from the light but impactive pressure on the tip of his cock. He found himself getting more alert, differing from his previous state of mind where he had barely been able to register what had been happening at the door.

Tired, lolling eyes from earlier converted into wide, lustfully lidded golden eyes that bore into your own coloured irises. The only difference between the two pairs of eyes had been the soft domineering gaze you set upon the boy who seemed to be putty in your hands and mouth. 

Winking at him, you felt confidence grow in you as you heard him slightly whimper and wine through the futile coverage of his hand over his mouth, and so, with suave, you slid the eager cock into your mouth, tapping it over your lips and tongue before deciding to suck the entire thing in, in one go. The near-scream Shuichi emitted definitely helped you take the entirety of him inside your mouth. 

You let out a small hiccup as you felt him throbbing in your throat, eyes wide and nose deep in the base of his shaft as your lips had almost been able to kiss the base of his cock. Keyword; almost.

With tear-filled eyes, you moaned onto his cock that only seemed to fit in half of your mouth before you started gagging. The small choked gasps from your side seemed to be in earshot of Shuichi, as he reached down to check on you- his hand was caught mid-way as you took a deep breath through your nose and fit the rest of his length down your throat. At this point, tears had been falling down your face uncontrollably, and you had been too busy massaging the base of his cock and balls to try and wipe them off.

“S-S/o— Y-you shouldn’t- F-fuck, I’m already so close, please don’t stop…!” He whined in a broken voice, head spinning and eyes rolling to the back of his head as he practically heaved out pants against the couch behind him. You felt your own thighs tremble as you heard him lose character, cussing; something you didn’t know he’d ever do. It sounded foreign in his voice, but was it strange that you actually liked how it sounded?

Moans and pleas spilled out of his drooling mouth like a running faucet; he noticed it only seemed to egg you on, in which, he wasn’t sure he liked or feared. He was highly certain he wouldn’t be able to last long—the thought hit him like an 80-pound brick as you dragged your tongue on the sensitive underside of his cock. “Hhnn- Ah—!” He let out an embarrassingly high moan, though he didn’t seem to care enough to tend to the humiliation, as he had currently been occupying his mind with the fact you had been sucking him off and sucking him off good.

His neck and thighs twitched as he writhed, not able to hold back the urge to pull your hair as he felt like he was going to lose it if he didn’t. Reaching down quickly, he yanked your hair upwards, in a force that didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would. It seems, even during moments like these he was always gentle with you. 

Rewarding him for the action, you hummed muffled praises he couldn’t hear, but could definitely feel the effect of it against his cock. Vibrations shot up from between his legs to up the trail of his spine, sending shockwaves of pleasure through his entire body. 

You felt his clammy hand that had kept hold of your hair, push you down onto his length roughly, causing you to stifle a surprised choke as you felt his tip hit the very back of your throat. “S-Shui—” You couldn’t even say half his name properly. 

With tears streaming down your face, you shut yourself up and took it, bobbing your head up and down faster—to which he rewarded you with shaky, blissful sobs. God, did you wish you could see his expression right now. 

At the thought, your slightly red eyes darted up to his face, which seemed to be staring right back at you with his own tear-brimmed gaze. “S-S/o...!” He whined out, a few stray tears falling as he felt his climax approach him. Throwing his head back, you lost sight of his flushed, slobbering face as he rested the back of his neck against the couch. 

“Close..! Close! Hah- Hnngg! Please, I need to- to—!” Shuichi cut himself off, mouth contorting into an ‘O’ shape as he tensed his thighs underneath your clawed grip, feeling his well-deserved orgasm finally hit him. You suctioned your mouth around his length especially hard, eyes squeezing shut as you felt him pulsating against the walls of your sore throat.

You could feel the milky white, nearly translucent cum shoot down your throat and, as you usually do, you let it slip down your throat with no complaints—and it wasn’t as if you could try spitting it out; Shuichi’s cock had been so far down your throat, he had been practically been shooting it directly down your throat, giving you no chance to swallow. 

You felt his cock shudder, twitch and go flaccid in your mouth; so with a final drag of your lips, you trapped any leftover semen within the insides of your lips and licked whatever had escaped the bindings of your aching mouth. Shuichi remained heaving against the couch, his hand that had previously been holding onto your hair with a death-grip, weakened and dropped to the side of your face.

Bringing his head back down from the thrown back position on the couch, he stared down at you who had still been seated between his legs, your cheek resting against his thigh as you watched him with a soft and infatuated gaze. After such a feat, to look at him like that; he felt like he was on cloud 9. He truly wondered what he had done to deserve a blow job like that, and someone like you to give him such a thing after neglecting you for twelve hours, he felt terrible for you yet also fortunate to have you. His gaze, despite still fucked-out and slightly mind-blown, held worry for you. 

With his already red face going even more crimson, he brought his hand down to the side of your head to stroke your face tenderly. Still heaving out pants, he stuttered out quiet words of gratification, “... T-thank you. For that.” To which you only grinned cheekily at, head turning to gently nibble and kiss at the inside of his thigh, causing a small yelp to erupt from him. 

Your hand gripped onto his thigh, making sure to immobilize him and his squirming as you sucked a hickey onto his thigh. “Hh-!” Shuichi could only whimper at the pressure, his free hand going up to wipe away the tears that formed from earlier, and the ones that had been forming currently. 

#mod chia #notsfw #shuichi saihara #shuichi oneshots #shuichi smut #shuichi headcanons #shuichi fluff #drv3 shuichi #drv3 shuichi x reader #danganronpa #danganronpa imagines #danganronpa oneshot #danganronpa fluff #danganronpa smut #danganronpa v3 #danganronpa v3 oneshots #danganronpa headcanons #dr3 shuichi #drv3 x reader #danganronpa fanfiction #shuichi saihara x reader #shuichi saihara headcanons #Shuichi saihara x reader fluff #Shuichi saihara fluff #shuichi saihara smut #I AM #so fucking tired #but hey #its so worth it #shaishfds

[mrsnegan]

hey angelface! im back to request again 😅 if you don’t mind. could you do a smutty fic with Negan pretending like he isn’t jealous of some random guy from readers job???

[Sweetheart, your request did things to me, damn. 😅 Here's my fic for you, all dirty and full of jealous and possessive Negan. Working in an office myself didn't make it any easier, haha.]

Warnings: smut, swearing, body fluids, choking, daddy kink, squirting, rough sex, jealous and possessive Negan

Just this one email and you're ready for the weekend, you think to yourself, typing away on your keyboard. Clients could be a pain in the ass and from time to time you feel the need to stay after your colleagues already called it quits.

With the last word appearing on your screen, you hear the door to the office space opening. Negan greets you with his million dollar smile, stepping inside.

"Hey baby girl, thought I would come by to kitnap you for the weekend."

You chuckle at his words, smiling back lovingly.

"Hey. Sounds perfect to me. Just a second and I'm ready."

With a few clicks you turn off your computer, then motion to tidy up your desk a bit.

Negan, leaning against the wall beside your workplace, watches you while you put away the chocolate candy your colleague Zack got for you some hours ago.

"He can't stop gifting you things, can he?" he comments and you grin at him over your shoulder.

"He's just being nice, babe. I like to buy him some cookies from time to time, he buys me some chocolate in return."

You grab your coat and purse, ready to leave work for the long-awaited weekend.

"There's no need to be jealous", you add, walking past him towards the door. "You coming?"

He's in front of you with only a few quick steps, pressing his lips against yours hungrily. When he pulls back again, his eyes are two black orbs, swallowing your surprised gaze.

"Jealous, me?" he asks mischievously. "Nah. I show you jealous."

He turns you around, so you switch positions with him, facing the empty office instead of the door. He walks you backwards with eyes never leaving yours.

"What are you-"

"Is this his desk?" He points towards Zack's workplace with his head, only a few feet away from yours. You nod shortly, your heart beating fast.

Negan lifts you up like you're weighing nothing, sitting you down on your colleague's desk.

"Now, I'm gonna tell you what will happen. I will make you cum over and over again on this idiot's desk, soaking his stuff with your juices. Then I will fuck you, hard, and paint you with my cum. You're mine and mine alone, understood?"

You can't believe what he's about to do, though you practically soak your panties at his words. This is so damn wrong, leaving you absolutely speachless but aroused nonetheless. Thinking straight isn't possible with him standing between your thighs this close, so you just nod at him, biting your lip in the process.

"Need you to say it, baby girl, loud and clear", he prompts, not at all satisfied with your reaction.

"Y-yes, Daddy", you stammer out of breath, feeling his hands on your covered thighs, dangerously close to your center.

"That's a good girl, knows her place very well", he compliments, making you clench around nothing. God, he could turn you to jelly with just a few words.

Without further ado he pops open the button of your jeans, followed by the zipper. You claw at the edge of the desk while he pulls down your trousers, helping you out of them before tossing them on the chair beside him. In his current position, he comes face to face with your panties.

"Hmm, is this a wet spot, baby girl? 'This turning you on?"

The moan leaves your lips without your consent when his mouth closes around your covered center.

"It sure as shit tastes like one", he comments, getting rid of your panties as well. You welcome his fingers, first one, then two, and talented mouth, moaning his name and a litany of curses while he brings you to the brink of an orgasm. He pulls away as soon as he feels your walls flutter around his fingers.

"Want to cum?" he mocks you, looking up at you from his knealing position.

"Please", you beg out of breath. "Please Daddy."

"You have no shame, baby girl, wanting to cum on his desk." He says this as if it hasn't been his idea all along, dragging you into the dark abyss of lust with him, making you want to crave everything he throws at you.

His fingers return to your channel, fucking into you with more force and speed while he sucks your pearl into his hungry mouth. That does it for you. You cum screaming his name, drenching his hand, the edge of the desk and the carpet below with your juices.

"Shit, told you, you will cum soaking everything", Negan hollers between your legs. You slump down against the monitors behind you, but he doesn't let you catch your breath. His fingers return, he even adds a third one, his thumb pressing down on your clit without mercy.

"Fuck, Negan, I..." But it's too late, another orgasm rushes through you, gushing out around his fingers, leaving you a panting mess.

His kisses against your thighs are gentle and loving, the contrast of how he just fingerfucked you.

"Good fucking girl", he praises, straightning himself. "Do you want more?"

"Yeah", you whimper, eyes closed out of shame and excitement.

"Look at me", he prompts hoarsly.

You comply and are greeted with the sight of him pulling his cock out, coating his hard length with your juices which still drip down his fingers.

"He could never make you feel this way, baby girl. He sure as shit is the one who is jealous because he must know how utterly good you're taken care of. And he will definitely smell it when he comes here on Monday."

Your cheeks feel hot with embarrassment, you can't even get around the thought of returning here and working with Zack as if nothing of this ever happened. You will forever be reminded of your depraved act. And you enjoy every second of it.

It doesn't take long for him to enter you in one swift motion, setting a fast pace, his hands all over your body. You moan against his mouth while trying to anchor yourself with a tight grip around his shoulders.

He fucks into you with fast and precise strokes, the desk under you shakes with every push and pull, pencils and papers in disarray from your motions.

Sloppy kisses are followed by his tongue trailing down your neck, leaving a wet path and you panting with desire, the only thing leading your thoughts and actions.

His hands rip your blouse apart, buttons flying everywhere while he frees your right breast to suck on your erect nipple.

"You feel so good around me, so wet and tight. You wanna cum on my cock, baby girl?"

"Y-yes, Daddy, fuck...harder please."

His grin turns borderline evil with your request. He grabs your hips more securely, pistoning in and out of your tight heat. You scream for him, your sounds music to his ears.

"Daddy...", you groan.

"What is it, baby girl?" he asks out of breath, his movements not faltering once.

"Choke me, please", you beg, quieter than before.

"You dirty fucking girl", he comments with a big grin. His left hand travels from your hips around your throat, choking you lightly.

Your eyes roll back at his touch and the ongoing thrusts. When he tightens his grip on you, you moan breathlessly.

"Fucking shit...gonna cum so fucking hard, fuck...", Negan moans, frantically driving himself into you over and over and over again until you feel him twitching inside of you. As soon as he pumps the first line of cum into you, he triggers your own wave of high, but ruins it when he pulls out, his words from earlier seemingly forgotten. He jerks himself off with his right hand, painting your pussy with his release. All the while he doesn't let go of your throat, a possessive gesture without any doubt.

Your heart threatens to jump out of your chest, your eyes furiously scanning his face. You don't take it kindly if he ruins your orgasm, so your hand travels down your body, fingers harshly rubbing your clit, his seed working as a lubricant to your advantage.

"Dirty girl", he says smirking, but letting you touch yourself, pressing his forehead against yours, hand still around your throat, choking you lightly.

"Kneel down", you pant against his lips when he loosens his grip a bit. He does as you say, letting go of your throat entirely. The oxygen flooding your lungs and you rubbing your clit faster and faster, finally pushes you over the edge. You cum violently, squirting into Negan's waiting mouth who tastes your release gladly, drinking you down without any hint of discomfort.

Long moments of heavy breathing and gentle caresses follow before Negan stands up again, grabbing your jeans from the chair.

"Shit, baby girl, that's why I love you so much. You're not only feeling and tasting divine, you're as fucking crazy as I am."

You grin at him, still trying to calm your pulse. "Let's get out of here", you respond, "I want you to draw me a nice bath after this filth."

"I will, but I know you like being drenched like this, don't deny it. You're my dirty girl, mine alone."

"Says the one that isn't jealous at all", you retort.

He just smirks at you, his eyes giving away everything you need to know.

---

Taglist: @iluvneganandjamie @happysgal @negans-attagirl

#negan x reader #negan #negan smut #negan x you #jeffrey dean morgan #negan fic #negan fanfiction #jealousy

[itsthestutterforme]

I Reject You (Ransom Drysdale)

Summary: Ransom has a friends with benefits relationship with Y/N recently learned that she is pregnant with Ransom's pup but rejects him as the father because of how he treated her when they were together.

Notes: GIF is not mine, slight smut, fluff, A/B/O dynamics, mentions of human trafficking, mentions of depression, implied sexual assault (if any of these trigger you, please do not read. Take care of yourselves.)

--

Here you are exactly where you promised yourself you weren't going. As soon as you saw Ransom sitting in your office chair, you knew where this was headed. He picked you up from your job and drove straight to his house.

Your body shakes when he lazily thrusts into your soaked cunt as you both are laying down on your side. Leaning your head against his collarbone, your mouth falls open when he rubs your clit when his thumb.

You follow his hips when he pulls out of you, leaving just the tip in before drilling into you hard and fast. "You are such a slut for my dick aren't you? No matter how many times you say you never want to see me again. You. Are. Mine. Omega." He whispers into you ear and you were starting to see stars.

A sharp gasp leaves your lips as you cum for the fifth time today. His knot pops open and his seed decorated your walls. He pulls out of you and you lay on your back, mustering up the strength to get up but he grabs your chin roughly so you could look at him.

"No one can make you cum like I can. No one." You pull away from his grip and swing your legs over the edge of the bed. You curse at your body for trembling. You needed to get out of there and quick before he notices something is off.

You noticed a different abouf a week ago and went to the doctor. Only to find out that you were pregnant by no other than Ransom Drysdale. The trust fund playboy. There's no way you were going to tell him the baby was his. You needed to end whatever this is and you needed to end it now.

"You smell different," he says, trailing his nose along the curve of your neck. "Is your heat starting?" He asks and you choose not to say anything. What is there to say to a man that calls you a cumslut one second and is worried about your well being, the next?

You stand on wobbly legs and slide on your underwear while in search for the rest of your clothing. "When I talk to you, I expect you to speak." He says, standing from the bed and you jump into your dress pants. When you reach for you blouse, he rips from the your hand and tosses it across the room.

Attempting to get the blouse, a growl emits deep in his chest and you still your movements. You don't meet his eyes but you could feel the anger blossoming in his gaze. He grabs your throat sharply and lowered his head until his blue eyes met yours.

"Speak, Omega." Chills rolls down your spine at his command. "There's nothing to talk to you about." "You could have just said that. You didn't have to ignore me." "I didn't peg you as the sensitive type, Drysdale." You snark, and he allows you to pull his hand away from your throat.

"You're not going to shower before you go like you normally do? What, am I that bad of a person?" "There's nothing normal about this, Ransom. And to answer your question, yes, you are." You walk across the room and button up your blouse.

"What's up with you? You've been acting bitchy all day." "Wow, you talk like you're a ray of sunshine." "You know what, you want me to speak. Fine, I'll speak. Don't talk like you give a shit about me because you and I both know you don't. The only thing you care about is getting your rocks off like a horny little bitch."

Oh your hormones are going to get you in trouble. The omega in you was trembling with fear of what Ransom was going to do to you. He snarls and before you could even think about running, he turns you around and shoves into the nearest wall. His eyes glowing a dreadful crimson as he growled in your face.

"You got a death wish, omega? Who the fuck do you think you're talking to." He snarls and you instinctively expose you neck to him. Your arm maternally drapes over your stomach protectively and he noticed. His eyes lost their glow and he stares down at your stomach with wide eyes.

He takes a few steps back and you could hear his anxious heart pattering in his chest. "Is it mine?" "No," you answer a little too quickly and he raises his eyebrow questionigly. "You're lying," he says, taking a step toward you with his eyes glazing over your mating gland.

"Absolutely not," you snap and he takes another step towards you. "Stop, Ransom. Please don't," you whimper as he blew warm air over your sensitive gland. Something else stirred inside of you that wasn't your omega part of you. It was something more dominant and heavy.

Your hand comes up and in between your neck and his face. Your gripped his face and shoved him as hard as you could with surprising strength. You sent him flying across the room. He initially landed on the bed and bounced off to land in the corner.

A deep, protective roar erupted from your chest and something happened that you dreaded for most of your life. Your eyes were glowing. Your eyes didn't shine a normal golden color. They glowed like a broken mixture between crimson and ogate from an unspeakable past trauma.

"What the hell are you?" He asks as your eyes restore to normal. "Baby," he adds, his features softened. "Stay away from me. And stay away from my pup." You threaten, before sliding on your shoes and walking out the door. You wave down a taxi who drives you back to your house.

"Hey, I stopped by your job and saw you- Y/N, are you okay?" Your mom asks as her eyes settle on your trembling frame. "He found out." You croak, she motions you to sit on the couch and you comply. "He found out about the baby?" She asks. "He found out," you repeat, watching as she realizes what you really meant.

"He saw your eyes?" She asks with disbelief. "He tried to forcefully claim me and I bellowed at him to protect my pup." "What are you going to do? Do you want to leave?" She asks, running a comforting hand down your arm. "I have no idea, Mom. I don't get it. I thought I wasn't able to get pregnant."

"This is a blessing, honey." She says and you shake your head. "It would have been a blessing if the father was a decent human being, but he's not, Mom. He treats me.." you trail off and your mother purrs sadly, resting your face on the sides of hers. "He's a terrible person, Mom. But I need him and I fucking hate it."

"I know, honey. We don't need to figure everything out right now. Take a deep breath." You take a deep breath and a series of sobs escape your lips. You're screwed and everyone knows it.

**

Ransom bounces his leg nervously in his Beemer as he parks outside of Y/N's house. He could smell her, she's in deress and she's feeling an immense amount of sadness. He doesn't even know what he's doing there. It's not like his presence would help anything. She hated him and he doesn't blame her.

He would always call you names and insult your intelligence to keep you rilde up so he wouldn't know how it was to be loved by you. He started to fall for you when you would talk back against his misogynistic tendencies. He loved how your nose crinkled just before you were about to snap on him.

You have guts and you stood your ground, regardless if you were an omega or not. He respected that about you. But now he wanted to show you that he was willing to change for you and that he treated you like shit because he was scared of what your love could to him.

But he knew you. You would tell him to fuck off and leave because that is what he was good at. He had a plan to get you to trust him, but if that doesn't work. He has no idea what to do with himself. With a deep breath, he hops out of his Beemer and stalks towards the front door.

He knocks firmly and he heard footsteps ascending to the door. His heart races in his chest but he swallows it down. The door opens and he meets the gaze of a very angry mother. "How dare you come here?" "I need to see her," "I think you've done enough."

"She's carrying my pup, I can't just leave her." Ransom's explains, desperate to be given the benefit of the doubt. "I've heard terrible stories about you. You trust fund, prick. My daughter made a mistake and I'm sure she'll learn from it without your help." She snaps.

"Did she say that?" "She did," "You're a terrible liar. Just like your daughter." He sighs when she growls defensively at him. "What happened to her? To her eyes?" He asks. "Please, I want to be in her life. She makes my heart tingle and that scares the hell out of me, so I tried to push her away by.."

"By treating her like trash. You have no idea how to deal with women, do you?" She asks and he shakes his with defeat.

"Come in," she says with a sigh. Ransom walks into the house much smaller than he's used to. That's what a family house looks like. The entire living room is the size of his walk in closet. But he understands why Y/N would call it home. "Stay here, I'll be right back." Y/N's mom says before disappearing down the hall.

He sits down on the side of the couch where your scent is the strongest. His eyes fall to the shut door closest to the kitchen. Your scent dripped from the room and it took everything in him not to burst in there and pull you into his arms.

Y/N's mom returns with a thin stack of newspapers. The looked to be a few years old by the font and the faded lettering in some places. The newspaper crinkles in his hands as he read the headline on the first page.

HUMAN TRAFFICKING VICTIM FOUND AFTER 7 YEARS. Below the headline was a picture of a young girl with bruises litering her face as she pulled the blanket close to her.

The most heart wrenching part about the picture was how hollow her eyes looked. It was like looking into a dark tunnel with no light at the end of it. Whatever she experienced ruined whatever childhood she had left. Ransom's eyes scan over the article and flipped through the rest of the pages, growing angrier the more he read.

"How long ago was this?" Ransom asks. "Five years ago. She was twelve when she was taken." Ransom shakes his head with disbelief and sets the newspaper on the table in front of him. "Can I see her, please?" He asks desperately.

"She hasn't moved since she came back from your house a week ago. She barely talks and eats. Hopefully you have better luck than I do." She says, motioning for the door.

Ransom stands up and opens the door within a few strides. Goosebumps littered his skin when he inhales Y/N's miserable musk. Tears threatened his eyes but he wiped them away quickly. She already been through hell and Ransom made it worse by treating her the way he was. She deserved better than him.

"Y/N?" Ransom starts but Y/N doesn't move a muscle. Her bed covers were draped over her entire body, leaving a small opening above her head so she could breathe. Her breathing was barely audible, she could easily be mistaken as dead. The room was dim from the closed curtain and lack of light.

Not knowing what to say, he decides he was going to stay there with her. Maybe.. hopefully.. his prescence is enough to comfort her because he has no idea how to do that as he was never comforted as a child. He was just told to suck it up and stop being a baby. He's a Drysdale. And Drysdale's aren't weak.

He shrugs off his peacoat and pulled off his cable knit sweater. He stepped a little closer to admire her nest but notice the lack of his scent. He drapes his cable knit over the headboard of her bed. Not wanting to push his luck, he walked away from the bed and slid down the wall a distance away from you.

He smiles when he hears you purr softly in your sleep as you notice his scent. "Baby, I'm going to stay here with you, if that's okay." Ransom says and you continued to purr. Guess that wasn't a terrible sign.

Later that night, Ransom left your house to grab a week's worth of clothes plus an assortment of clothes you could add to her you. You still haven't said anything but your vile scent of shame and sadness has lessened.

When Ransom came back, Y/N's mom offered him the guest room but Ransom claimed it was too far from her. So she pumped up an air mattress for him. He's spent every day in the room with Y/N without saying a word. One day, Ransom came back with sushi for lunch to see you out of bed.

You froze when you saw him down the hallway after closing the door to the bathroom. "You came back earlier than I expected," you say and a sigh of relief leaves his lips. You both stay in your spots and stare at each other, waiting for someone to make the first move.

"I'm not good at comforting people. But I am good at telling people what I know. And I know that I feel like absolutely shit for how I treated you. And I know what happened to you when you were younger. Why your eyes are the way they are." He starts. "The fact that you can stand up for other people despite your past makes you strong. A strong mate and a strong mother." He adds.

He sets the sushi on the counter and you shove your hands into the pockets of your sweatpants. "We're not meant to be parents, Ransom. This could be the worst thing that could happen to us." She explains. "Or the best thing. I don't know about you, but I've been looking for a change. And then I met you and that was the change I was looking for." He explains.

You eye him suspiciously, unsure of where this verbal affection came from. "Why are you saying these things? Did my mom put you up to this? I told her I would be fine." You say, walking down the hall and into your room. "She didn't put me up to this. And no, you're not fine." He says, leaning against your door frame.

"Baby, we're in this together." "I don't trust it. I don't trust you. I've seen what you're capable of and the way you treat people. And I will be damned if I let you treat my pup like that."

"Your pup?" "My pup," you repeat, placing a hand on your stomach. His gaze falls on your stomach and he nods to himself like he's making a decision in his mind.

"Mark me," he says, taking off his pea coat, cable knit sweater and tank top underneath that. He sets on the air mattress and nears you slowly. "What? No." "I'll honor the bond. I'll be yours and only yours. I won't mark you unless you want me to. Just please, mark me."

"This is insane," you start and takes your hand to place on his cheek. He inhales the scent of your pulse point on your wrist before placing your hand on his mating gland. You shake your head no and he sits down, pulling you into his lap and burying your face into his neck.

Your inner omega takes over and you wrap your arms around his neck. "Alpha," you whimper. "Oh, omega. I'm so sorry, baby." He whispers. He stares up at the ceiling as he tries to hold back his tears but it was no use. He always thought that he was fucked up because Linda never showed him any affection as a kid.

But to hear about what you experienced as a kid. The fact that you had nothing and you had your will and autonomy stripped from you. Ransom's autonomy was the only thing he felt like he truly had. He rubbed circles on your neck and you sigh into his. He learned that from a Google search he did but you didn't know that.

You pull away from his neck and cupped his cheeks, pressing a warm kiss on his soft lips. You were desperate for each other's touch, but it wasn't in a sexual way.

It was more like a tending to an internal scratch. Your eyes fluttered closed and he lifted your chin to deepen the kiss. Your tear stained cheeks rubbed against his and his tongue swiped against your lip, begging for access.

You glady give him the access he needed and his happy hummed vibrated your chest. He pulled away slowly and held you gaze before exposing his neck to you. You couldn't believe your eyes. The Ransom Drysdale was exposing his neck to you. Submitting to you. Maybe he wasn't bluffing after all.

You ghost your fingers over his mating gland and he sighs at the touch. You look to him and he nods, encouraging you to continue. Your tongue darted out to moisturize your dry lips and press a kiss to the sensitive skin. You purr as you inhale his musk of honey and crackers, his favorite childhood snack.

."Y/N, please." Giving him one last look before sinking your teeth into his neck, his mouth falls open and you bite down harder until you could taste the metallic drops of his blood.

You lick away the droplets of blood escaping the wound before pulling away. You lick away the blood from your lips and expose your neck to him but he gripped your chin and shook his head.

"You have to want it." He says sincerely. You barely recognize the Ransom in front of you. His ogate eyes dilate as they met your Y/E/C eyes. And in that moment you realize that Ransom was just as broken as you were. He truly was yours.

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale #knives out #slight smut #fluff #chrisevans

[buckyjamess-archive]

𝓻𝓸𝓼𝓲𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓲 ❁ 𝓫𝓾𝓬𝓴𝔂 𝓫𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓮𝓼

chapter seventeen • a/n: thank the sudden burst of inspiration for these chapters coming out so fast. Feedback is appreciated! • wordcount: 1.5k+ • warnings: kids, parenthood, nothing more?

summary

going through  rough years after losing your husband, you try to raise your daughter the best you can. With the help from the wilson's you make the best of it but the road is bumpy when sam introduces you to his friend.

masterlist

F O U R M O N T H S L A T E R

"I'm running a little late today, so I won't be home in time but I asked Steve to be there to open up–" a heavy sigh "for the love of god, try to be nice buck, that's all I'm asking, okay? Also, can you let me know if you're staying for dinner so I can pick up something extra on my way back– thank you. Okay..bye, love you." 

love you. Bucky never expected to keep hearing those words falling from your lips but he does– after every call, every voicemail, every goodbye and see you soon. It makes him smile yet he doesn't deserve those two words. 

you had assured him that morning after that you would always love him no matter what; that he's still the father of yet another gift in your life. The best months of your life after a shit show of years prior– you'd always love Bucky even if he broke your heart in a million pieces, he seemed to be the only one to put it back together..or steve. Steve did a pretty good job of glueing shattered parts of your heart back together.

It angered bucky. Coincidentally; Steve rogers marriage came to an end not two weeks after you'd moved into your own little place with the kids and for a split second Bucky had wondered if nothing ever happened between you and Steve during the time he suspected something. But he believed you. Nothing had happened, never and though Bucky still had to get used to Steve being around more and more each day, he knew he could trust the blonde. 

You seem happy with Steve and unlike you and him, things between Steve went slow, taking time. No moving in three weeks after or by each other's side everyday and you certainly didn't let the man straight into Rosie and JJ's life.

A break..of sorts and maybe he'd gotten his hopes up and believed it actually could get better with time; get back together and be that little family again but as time passed by, it became all too clear– you really didn't plan on getting with him again and Bucky couldn't even blame you.

But you still let him into your life, let him be a part of your life. A part of Rosie's life..of JJ. You let Rosie stay with him whenever she wanted to, let her stay the night or a couple of days until the girl wanted to get back home again. Got to see his son nearly everyday and have him all weekends. 'I'd never take away your kids, buck'

Invitations to stay for dinner or spend the evening or to tag along with one of your day outs– all too eager to spend all the time he could with what once was his family,  even if it meant spending time with Steve.

You still took care of bucky, you still loved bucky because the man who broke your heart made you believe in love again, pulled you out of your shell after years of wanting to be alone. Took care of you during your darkest days, stayed by your side when you needed him the most. Gave Rosie a father figure she never had the opportunity to get, gave you another little soul to take care of. Bucky Barnes stole, bruised and broke your heart and till this day manages to glue it back together. 

It took you a while to forgive him, you're still not sure if you actually have. With the loan you got from your new part time job at the store around the corner, you managed to get yourself a small two bedroom apartment not too far away from bucky– following most classes from your new study online and still being able to be there for your babies; if you were being honest, life was good. 

The family wilson being back in your life being the icing on the cake. Sam being to eager to apologise for everything he'd said and done although 'I told you so'– first flight to Brooklyn and before you knew it the family stood in your apartment, unpacked boxes and painted rooms as if their lives depended on it; be there for you like they were after riley– family. Hailey even spent the better part of her summer in Brooklyn by your side to catch up while in all honesty, she got tired of her dad and needed some time alone.

Life was surprisingly good after everything.

"Dad?" 

Snapping out of his daydream, Bucky looks up and meets the eyes of the little girl in the rear view mirror. The braid bucky had managed to braid that morning an untangled mess, hanging from her shoulder. Left overs of a chocolate cookie still visible on the corner of her mouth. Yellow shirt covered in dirt, paint and what else she'd been playing in and with at school.

Bucky hums and types a quick text to you, telling you he'd stay over for dinner "What's up?" 

"Can alpine come with me sometime?" Rosie asks seriously, a hint of hope in her voice. 

"I wish he could sweetheart but mom's not allowed to have any pets," Bucky chuckles "He misses mommy, right?" 

"I don't know, he can't talk silly." 

"Really then why does alpine talk to me every night?" Bucky quips back "he tells me how you steal the last cookies from the cookie jar." 

"That was JJ– when are mommy, me and JJ coming back home, I want my own bedroom again." 

Bucky clears his throat and quickly gazes to the little boy fast asleep in his carpet on the backseat and back to Rosie, Bucky swallows the lump in his throat. 

You tried to explain it all but the 4 year old never seemed to be able to understand any of it; the two times Christmas, two birthdays not working.

"I don't know princess," Bucky admits "whenever mommy is ready." 

which is never

Heavy footsteps echo against the grey stone walls of the short hallway,  doors with small white numbers glued onto the wood– Steve isn't much taller or shorter, maybe a bit broader but nothing to be afraid of and yet bucky finds himself tiny next to the man, intimidated to say the least- black leather jacket over a simple grey shirt clung around his biceps, long legs...intimidating but with the softest facial features, christ bucky didn't have any reason to feel this way around someone You deemed important. 

If anything, Steve was as awkward as him.

Twirling around the hallway, her pink and purple colored bag bouncing up and down her back and her messy braid flying through the air, Rosie stills at the sight of the men walking their way 

"You're late." 

"I know, kid," Steve chuckles lowly "tried to be faster." 

"Well, you should be faster next time." Rosie simply states. 

Steve nods his head towards bucky with a slight smile which bucky returns and without another word, Steve twirls the keys out of his pocket and unlocks the door with the faint 9 on it. 

Rosie storms in, nearly tripping over her own feet as she pulls her backpack off and throws it in the corner with all other shoes, bags and umbrellas. 

The man nods again as Bucky pushes the stroller with JJ through the door. The familiar smell of you lingering in the air and fills his nostrils. He ignores the footsteps behind him. Bucky pushes his son further into the kitchen where he picks JJ out and sets the little man on the floor. Bucky's not even able to say another word, his son zooming off on all fours, going straight to the box filled with toys near the couch in the living room. 

"I was told to hand you the keys." Bucky's eyes shoot up to Steve, your keys dangling between his thumb and index finger– Steve clears his throat. 

Casually folding the stroller back before standing up straight, bucky nods and holds his hand out. 

Your keys, not Steve's. Great, he's not at that base yet.

"y/n asked if you wanted to bathe the kids," Steve clears his throat once again and shifts his weight from one foot to the other "so she can start with dinner when she's back." 

"Yeah, sure." Bucky mumbles almost inaudibly, calm and collected, through his stomach drops as Steve nods and strides his way to your bedroom and comes back out with a black overnight bag hanging from his shoulder; rogers printed on the fabric. 

so, he's at that base already

"So, yeah– I should head back out. Work and all." Steve breathes out a laugh. 

Placing both hands on his sides, Steve looks back to the living room where Rosie and JJ crawled and played around the coffee table. 

"Bye rosie," Steve waves awkwardly and with no answer back, he looks back at bucky with a slight smile and nervous chuckle "kids, right." 

"Yeah," Bucky deadpans, not batting an eye at the men in front of him "kids." 

Bucky doesn't have the right to feel jealous, he screwed things up and not you but he still loves you with all his heart and he'll be damned if he didn't at least try to gain back your trust and maybe even woo you back in his life– Steve stands in the way of just that.

Taglist: @farfromshawn @Nicollettemarie @wooya1224 @felicityofbakerstreet @agentmstark @sierrax023 @lilyevanswhore @qhbr2013 @buckybarnesobsessed @themaddies-obx @aloserwithoutacause @aanngie @sebby-staan @sweetth1ng @starrystarkey93 @libidinexx @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @gasly-kvyat @brown-bi-beautiful @peter-laufeyson @im-squished @meshlababy @lindseyrae20 @cb97skies @qwccrr @ssprayberrythings @yougottalovefandoms @jbcalway @realgaytrash @natyvwe @poetryazenth @winterberryfox @ahahafudge @okiegirl24 @0moondoodler0 @why-wait-4-eventually

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #rosie and i*

[dramaqueeenamby]

𝙎𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝗈𝖿 𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲 | seven

Parings: CEO!Chris Hemsworth x Stripper!OC // Words: 7.8K // Type: Series // Taglist: Yes/No (Inbox me to be tagged or removed) Warnings: Sexual harassment, racial themes, discussions pertaining to child death, miscarriage, alcohol/drug use, and suicide attempts. Angst.

A/N: I'm so sorry for the inexcusable delay in updates. This chapter is hella long and perhaps should have been split into two, but I promised ya'll some answers in the last chapter, so here they are!

“What is that haircut?”

“Why are you zooming in?”

Kaya said nothing, continuing to pinch her fingers to gain a closer look, her smile widening by the second. “Holy shit, you weren’t kidding. “

Chris rolled his eyes. “All children go through phases.”

“This is beyond a phase, my friend. Don’t even get me started on the outfit.” As she erupted in yet another fit of giggles, he took advantage of the opportunity to snatch the iPad away from her.

“Go to sleep.”

Quieting herself down, she wiped at her eyes. “No. Come on. I’m enjoying this, and like you said, you were a dumb kid. How were you supposed to know these photos would haunt you till’ the end of time?”

“Only if they get out.”

“Don’t tempt me with a good time, sir.”

Chris closed the app and looked over at her. “What about you?”

Kaya’s brow lifted. “What about me?”

“What about your phases?”

She snorted. “Absolutely not.” He continued to stare her down, prompting her to cave, a surprising move even for her. Kaya’s tenacity was typically much stronger than that. “Fine.”

She grabbed her phone and unlocked it, opening Google Photos and scrolling mindlessly. She knew that any horrifically embarrassing snapshots would be from as far back as her library went. The older the photo, the higher the likelihood she would regret ever caving.

It took roughly two minutes for her to locate a set, her eyes shutting and a small moan leaving her partially closed mouth.

He smirked. “Found it?”

“Shut up.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“You’re going to make me regret this, aren’t you?”

“Without a doubt.”

She couldn’t help it. She laughed. “At least you’re honest.” Blowing out a breath, she issued a formal forewarning. “In my defense, I was young and dumb.”

“How is that diff—fine, I will reserve my judgment.”

“Liar.” When he said nothing else, she took another deep breath and gradually pulled her phone away from her breast, twisting her wrist so that he could see the screen. “I give you, thebaddestputa69.”

She watched the corner of his lips lift upward as he fought off a smile in favor of a smirk. “Hotmail or aol?” Her surprise at his knowledge of the fallen email servers must have shown because he commented, “I’m old, not ancient.”

She matched his smirk and leaned over to whisper. “Hotmail. Definitely hotmail.”

“AIM username?”

“Come on, the same as my email. I wasn’t creative enough to have multiple aliases.”

He chuckled, grabbing her phone to examine the photo. “I certainly do not miss the peace sign era.”

“I’m pretty sure I used that same pose in all of my photos back then.”

He gestured to the plastered graphic that read ‘jealousy is a disease, get well soon’. “With the same masterful level of editing, I’m sure.”

“But of course, blingee and picnik were a staple.”

A comfortable silence befell them as he returned her phone, and she quickly swiped up to close the app. Kaya was grateful that he didn’t swipe right or left, something she was expecting him to do, if she was being completely honest with herself.

Kaya yawned and naturally laid her head on his shoulder as she reached over to grab the book she was reading when they somehow got on the topic of rebellious and wild phases of days of past.

“Are we th—”

“Finish that sentence, and I will personally throw you out of this damn plane myself.”

Kaya looked over at him, eyebrows furrowed, and mouth pronounced. “It’s a legitimate question.”

“No, it was a legitimate question. However, it stopped being one when you asked me the fifth time.”

“I’m just trying to keep the conversation going. Damn.”

“No, you’re just trying to pester me.”

“Look, it’s obvious you don’t want to hear me talk anymore, so I’m just going to shut my mouth for the remainder of the flight.” He snorted. “What?”

“We both know that’s not possible.” He finally broke his gaze from his phone as he looked over with that knowing smirk that she despised. “You always have to have the last word.”

“That is not true.”

“Kaya, you’re like a child.”

“Keep it up, and you’ll be the one who’s personally tossed from this jet.”

“See what I mean.”

Groaning, she threw her hands up and shook the book in her right hand. “This is the second book in this series.”

“And?”

“And I started the series when we were still on the taxi.”

He shrugged. “Read slower.”

“Chris!”

He laughed, reaching to place his hand on her thigh as she sighed while banging her head back against the headrest. “Relax.”

“Don’t you think if I could, I would?”

“You were doing great five minutes ago.”

“That was in the past.”

“Next time, we’re taking separate jets.”

She didn’t know why but hearing him refer to future happenings both excited and saddened her, for more reasons than one. She cleared her throat. “This is a work trip, right?” He looked down at her as she placed the book down on the ground and held onto his bicep. “You know, something for your company.”

He studied her for a moment and looked up, closing his eyes as he laid his head back against the headrest. “I have the cover of this month’s GQ Italia.”

“Fancy,” she remarked, still unsatisfied with his answer-non answer. “So, I was right. This is a work thing.”

Chris thought about what she said, what she asked, as well as his response before he replied. “They offered to contract a photographer in LA.”

Brows scrunched, she had to ask, now more confused than she was just a few minutes ago. “So why go to them?”

His silence only irked her, the seconds dragging into minutes, which felt like hours. Frustrated and impatient, she called his name again. “Chris-”

“Jesus,” was all she heard before his lips were on hers, palm of his hand pressed against her cheek. Everything else after that was a sensual blur. His other hand moved to her hip, pulling her onto his lap, never once breaking their kiss. She placed her hands on his shoulders, giving a light squeeze, inching her body closer to his, close enough to feel the heat that always emanated over him.

And then, it was over.

Eyes fluttering and breath staggering, she nearly whined when he ran his thumb over her swollen bottom lip.

“This isn’t work for me.”

----

“This is our room?”

Chris looked up and chuckled, watching Kaya spin around the middle, eyes soaking in their suite. He placed her bag near the closet while crossing his arms and leaning against the wall.

“It is.”

Kaya nodded and grabbed the bottom of her sweatshirt, tugging it over her head. She extended her arm out and turned around, lifting a brow. “And we have maid service, correct?”

He eyed her. “Of course.”

Kaya smirked and let the garment fall to the floor.

Chris chuckled. “You wanna explain that?”

“What?” She played innocent, fingers toying with the waistband of her joggers as she began to shimmy out of them. “Staying in a fancy hotel where I don’t have t0 clean up after myself?” She walked toward him, moving to grab her suitcase so that she could find her next outfit. “Granted, we have the maid service at home, but—” Both Christopher and Kaya paused at her statement, equally surprised by how easily it flowed, but more so with the statement itself.

Defense immediately kicked in and Kaya cleared her throat. “I mean, ya know, your place.” She refused to make eye contact that exceeded ten seconds, grabbing the handle of her suitcase and dragging it in the direction of what looked like the bathroom.

“Dibs.”

Her feet weren’t moving fast enough for her liking. In fact, they were slow enough that Chris was somehow able to cross the room and grab her by her arm. She looked up, managing to remain calm while inwardly panicking.

God, please don’t let him ask anything.

“Don’t take too long.”

She swallowed. “Why?”

Her grip on the handle tightened when he moved his hand to her face, the back of it brushing against her cheek. Had he been paying close enough attention, he would have noticed the way she shivered at his touch.

“You want dinner, don’t you?”

-----

“This isn’t exactly what I meant.”

Kaya looked up from her pizza, pausing mid chew. “What? Pizza in Italy? This is goals.”

He intended to take her to a fine restaurant, one where only the elite could afford to dine. Instead, she requested pizza delivered to their room. Kaya never ceased to surprise him. “And why are you eating pizza with a fork?”

She shrugged, adjusting the thin strap of her shirt. “Because pizza is messy, and my life's already messy enough. I avoid when I can.”

Chris didn’t say anything, simply watching her eat. She caught his gaze and looked away. If she could, she’d go back in time and stop herself from ever saying what she did. It’d ruined everything. He’d been acting different around her since, and she hated that. She also hated that she hated it.

Since when did she give a flying fuck about what people thought of her? Let alone him.

It was out of character for her, and she didn’t like it.

She didn’t like it at all.

Similarly, Chris also found it difficult to focus on anything other than the encounter from earlier, but not for the reasons Kaya thought.

Not even close.

“So, what’s the agenda for this trip?”

He chuckled and brought the champagne to his lips. “And ruin the surprise?”

Her eyes narrowed as she replaced the fork with her fingers so that she could eat the crust piece by piece. “What surprise?”

“What kind of question is that? Who gives away a surprise?”

“Are you capable of ever just answering my questions with a straight answer?”

He pretended to think. “I could.”

“But?”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“You and fun? Never realized they were synonymous.”

“I’d like to think we have fun.”

“We have sex. Really, really, great sex.”

“You don’t consider that fun?”

“Fun isn’t a strong enough word to describe it.” He lifted a brow, and she scoffed, tossing a red pepper packet in his direction. “Stop it. I am trying to have a mature conversation here.”

“Not quite sure how possible that is when both parties are inebriated.”

“Bullshit. You know damn well neither one of us is drunk. You haven’t seen me drunk. Hell, I haven’t seen me drunk in a while.”

The way her tone changed toward the end of her sentence garnered his interest. “Why not?”

She looked at him, her smile faltering as she nervously cleared her throat. “I—uh—I get really bad migraines, and Excedrin is the only thing that works for me.” Telling him the truth, well, a fraction of the truth, felt strange yet relieving, probably because she’d spent so much of her life hiding and lying that the truth was unfamiliar territory. “Needless to say, meds and alcohol? Never really a good combo.”

“You’re drinking now.”

“I haven’t taken any medicine yet.”

“Maybe you won’t have to.”

She smiled sadly. “I will.” A beat. “It’s all I have.” Kaya snatched another piece of her crust and swallowed fully before explaining. “That’s why my sleep schedule, if you can even call it that, is so fucked up.”

He thought about it. “Excedrin has caffeine.”

“An insane amount.”

“It helps your migraines—”

“And keeps me up in return.” When he grew quiet, she offered. “Trust me. The insomnia is much better than the pain.”

“I’m sorry.”

She grimaced, eyes darting in either direction. “Why?”

He sighed and ran his hands all over his face. “That’s why you get so upset when I wake you up.”

“I wouldn’t say upset.”

“You threatened to slit my throat in my sleep.”

“Okay, maybe I was a little upset,” she confessed, and they shared a laugh before his tone grew serious again.

“I’ll be mindful of that.” Head tilted to the side, a sign she was still confused, he continued. “So that you can sleep.”

She smiled teasingly, abandoning the last bit of her food, and pushing her plate to the side. “Is that consideration I hear?”

“It is.”

The way he was looking at her, the lack of typical sarcasm in his tone, it was both welcoming and conflicting. Crawling across the floor, she moved his plate to the side and climbed into his lap.

Hands on his shoulders, she lowered her voice and whispered into his ear. “Well, I’m up right now.”

He made a sound and brought his hands to her hips. “You are.” Her eyes shut when his lips moved to her shoulder. “You should get some sleep.”

Immediately, she coiled back and glared. “Are you serious right now?” He laughed, which only upset her further as he stood up, her legs locking around his waist. “It’s been at least 8 hours.”

“You keeping a timer or something?”

“Look.” She waited for him to place her on the bed before she grabbed the bottom of his shirt and tugging so that he laid back on the mattress. She quickly climbed on top of him. “If there’s one thing I know about us, we are ideal intimate partners. Our sexual chemistry is astronomical.”

His eyes drank her in. “Is that it?”

“Is what it?”

His voice lowered. “Is that all you think we have?”

At that moment, Kaya realized a couple of things. This was wrong. She was suddenly very much uncomfortable. And this was a mistake. This was why she didn’t tell the truth. It meant putting yourself at risk for being vulnerable.

She was never good with that.

Clearing her throat, she climbed off him and flashed a crafty smile. “I’m gonna go shower.” She couldn’t handle seeing his face, so she turned around, purposely pretending she had to look around the room to search for her luggage.

“You should know I hate sleeping with blankets.” Kaya needed to redirect the conversation to another topic. This was becoming all too much for her.

He sat up and rolled his shoulders. “So, strip the bed? Got it.”

“Absolutely not. I could freeze.”

“You just said—”

Kaya stood by the door that led to the living room area and smiled sadly. “I’m a hot ass mess, Chris.” A beat. “The sooner you accept that, the better.”

-------

We need to talk when you get a chance. Please?

No matter how many times she looked at the phone, a new incoming gray message never appeared. She waited and waited, even scrolling up only for it to bounce back with no change.

She missed Nia. She missed their banter. She missed making tik toks with her. And she especially missed the advice giving, of which she could desperately use right about now.

Something was happening between them. With her and Chris. Of which she didn’t know, nor did she understand. It drove her mad because it was a new experience, one where she didn’t feel as though she always had to walk on eggshells.

Being with Chris….

“God.” She ran her hand over her face. What the hell was she doing? She wasn’t with Chris. Not like that, anyway. This was a business transaction. They were both using each other for selfish purposes.

Maybe it was the sex. Nia always warned her that behind every sexual encounter, there was at least some trace of feelings.

Kaya always thought that was bullshit.

Now….now she wasn’t so sure.

“You alright?”

She looked up from her chair and saw Chris walk in. She chewed the inside of her cheek as he sat down in the chair opposite of her. Kaya took in his wardrobe, so casual and laid back. She’d never seen him in denim before, but he looked good.

She didn’t even know the photographer, but she was a fan. A billionaire in Levi’s? Iconic.

“How does it feel to dress like us common folk?”

“Poor.” He winked as she glared. “We should be done soon.”

“Don’t rush on my part. The snacks here are delicious, and who knows, I could play dress up.” She wiggled her brows and straightened when there was a knock on the door.

“Sorry to interrupt,” the photographer spoke up and offered Kaya a friendly smile. “You’re Kaya, yes? I’m Elena.”

Kaya was surprised by the fact that this woman was both speaking to her and actually knew who she was, so her response was delayed. “Yes. It’s nice to meet you.” She offered her hand and noticed the woman was staring at her. Welp. It was nice while it lasted. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“I’m sorry,” she apologized but continued to stare. “It’s just...has anyone ever told you that you have amazing bone structure?”

Kaya sputtered. “Not unless they wanted something from me.”

Elena smiled. “Well, I suppose this is no different.”

“I don’t understand,” Kaya asked, looking over at Chris. He was surprisingly quiet.

“How about we get some shots of the both of you?”

She immediately protested. “Oh no. I—I’m just here for moral support.”

“You did say you wanted to play dress up,” he reminded. She glared. Of course he would choose to speak up now.

She turned her narrowed eyes on him and harshly whispered. “Not while being photographed.”

He placed his hand over hers. “Relax.”

Kaya remembered that they weren’t alone and therefore, had to keep up the act. Even if it was starting to feel less and less like acting.

“I’m used to people watching, not photographing.” He lifted a brow. Laughing, she slapped his chest and took a deep breath. She looked over at Elena. “Will I at least get to see them before you pick which ones to use? If any.”

“Of course.”

Kaya caved. “Fine.” He kissed the top of her head and mouthed a thank you. “You owe me.”

“Sure, I do,” he dismissed, slapping her on her ass as Elena grabbed her to drag her away.

“Time to make magic.”

-----

It was a bad idea, one of many that had occurred, Kaya realized.

When she joked about wanting to play dress—up, she didn’t think that it would actually happen. She didn’t think that she’d become involved in his shoot. Kaya especially didn’t expect to have as much….fun as she did.

And she hated that, too. The fact that she managed to smile and laugh more in one setting than she had in, hell, longer than she could remember. She didn’t like it. She didn’t like it at all.

She really, really didn’t like the way Chris looked at her every time she walked onto set in a new look, and there were a couple of them. The way he focused on her, eyes taking in every bit of her form, all the way down from her shoes up to her hair. Like he didn’t want to look away. Like he couldn’t look away. She despised the way he held her when they were photographed together, often being the reason for her smile or laughter with his comments that he whispered into her ear, sneaking in a kiss against her temple or holding her against him.

It was all so domestic and sweet, and it made no sense.

He was starting to make no sense.

And she especially didn’t understand why she was putting off leaving the bathroom, having sat on the toilet for at least 15 minutes.

As if on cue, two loud knocks on the door pulled her from her thoughts.

“I’m coming, damnit.”

“That’s what you said last time. Come on, Kaya.” She was both surprised and annoyed that it was Chris. She expected it to be members of the glam team that he’d hired to help her prepare for the GQ function he was invited to, and of course, she was forced to accompany him. Turns out he wasn’t just chosen for the cover. He was man of the year. “We’re going to be late.”

“Maybe you should just leave me behind,” she muttered.

“Maybe I can just kick this damn door down,” he countered.

“Then you’ll have to pay for the damages.”

“Then I’ll buy the damn hotel,” he shot back testily. “I’m not going to ask you again, Kaya.”

She scowled and rolled her neck. Kaya knew he was being serious. The bastard could buy his way out of anything.

If only….

Blowing out a deep breath, she swallowed and stood, holding up her dress. It was undoubtedly beautiful, gold, a slit in the middle of her chest and on her left leg exposing more skin than she would have thought appropriate. Her curls were styled in a fancy updo, and her makeup was equally as bold as her dress, finalized with a red lip. She knew that she looked good, and that’s what scared her.

Chris had been looking at her like that all day, and she couldn’t keep handling it.

If she could even consider it handling. Managing was perhaps a better term. Poorly managing was the perfect term.

Kaya ripped open the door and plastered on a fake smile. “Happy?”

And there it was, his eyes widened and softened as he gave her a onceover. “And don’t tell me I look beautiful, cause’ I already know it.”

Kaya figured if she said it for him, she wouldn’t have to deal with the weird and uncomfortable knotting in her stomach that she experienced every time he complimented her.

And it worked, he said nothing, only helping to hold up her dress as they walked to the SUV that would escort them. In the car, she was also pleasantly surprised that he didn’t attempt to make small talk with her during the drive. She was certain, however, that it was because he took at least three different work calls during that time.

She made drafted Tik Toks in the meantime.

When they finally arrived, Kaya nearly ran out of the car right then and there.

“Is that a red carpet?” Her mouth dropped. “What the hell? You said nothing about having to walk a damn carpet that is red.”

He chuckled. Kaya realized his hand was on the exposed portion of her thigh. “Stay close to me, and I’ll take care of you. You’ll be fine.”

Kaya was used to having eyes on her, but that didn’t mean she liked it, especially when it didn’t involve money being thrown her way. “I don’t have to say anything, do I?”

He squeezed her thigh. “You’ll most likely receive compliments.”

“I can handle that,” she spoke more to herself than him. “Just long as no one asks if I prefer cats over dogs or whatever shit they ask.”

He laughed quietly and looked at her. “You ready?”

No. “Yes.”

Chris climbed out the car first so that he could help her out of the vehicle, and as soon as she stepped out, she cursed to herself. There were so many damn people. People taking photographs. People being photographed. People helping both the people the photographed and the photographers. And then there was her. She felt so out of place.

If he wasn’t already holding her hand, she would have grabbed for his.

Kaya used her left hand to hold up her dress, while making sure that she stayed close to Chris who led the way, smiling for the camera while sparing her glances every so often to assess her level of comfort.

Kaya played along, evoking a smile as she posed with him for a few photos. That’s when it started again. Like the photoshoot from a few hours ago, she found herself feeling less forced and more comfortable. Like, it was natural.

Like it was real.

Kaya was eventually allowed to stand to the side as he gave a few interviews, some in English, most in Italian. She’d meant to ask him earlier when the hell he learned to speak so many languages. This was the third she’d learned of. She had a feeling at least one or two journalists asked about her, because he would look in her direction and shoot a wink or something of the sort.

Her smile was a natural reaction.

The process was less daunting than she anticipated, not that she’d ever admit that to him. It was once they moved inside that Kaya realized they’d yet to reach the hard part. That hardest part was “socializing” with the guests, many of which were white, spicy white at best. She spotted some minorities but found that they were just as distant as the rest.

The vim of the event was welcoming, however, which confused Kaya to some extent. She simplified it down to the event was nice, the people were trash, and Chris was both an ass and a gentleman for forcing her to come.

He’d introduced her to a few people, most of which spoke poor English. That, she could acknowledge, was nice. Not the strained English, but his obvious concern for her wellbeing. He was going out of his way to make her feel as comfortable as he could.

It was also irritating because it resurfaced those damn knots.

They were seated at a table, and he was texting someone when she leaned over and tugged on his sleeve. Kaya also took a moment to appreciate how nice he looked. The man was something sinful in a suit. “I think I know him.”

He looked up, immediately locking his phone. “Who?”

She gestured with her chin. “The guy over there talking to the girl with the green dress. But don’t look at them.”

His eyes lifted to the ceiling. Right before he proceeded to look right in that direction.

She laughed despite her irritation. “What did I literally just fucking say?”

“I’ll never understand why people want to do something without actually doing it. I don’t have the time.” She shook her head. He was so impatient. “And how do you know him?”

She lifted a brow. He asked with a newfound sense of urgency. If she didn’t know any better, she would have guessed it came from a place of jealousy.

Kaya studied the stranger across the room again when her eyes widened. “I know. He’s that actor from that porn movie we watched.”

“We don’t watch porn, Kaya. We make it.”

“Stop it.” She leaned closer, hating that her smile contrasted the frustration she felt with how vulgar he was speaking in such a public setting. “And you know the movie where they…..ya know, basically the whole time, and he kept asking in that godawful delivery, are you lost, baby girl?”

Her equally terrible impression caused him to laugh quietly. “I think that is him.”

“I told you.” She spoke a little louder than she would have liked due to her excitement at being correct. “He looks better on screen.”

Chris glanced over at him once more and scoffed. “He’s scrawny.”

“Sir, not everyone is like you and built like a fucking tanker.”

“Not my problem.”

Kaya rolled her eyes and gathered her dress. “I’ll be back. I have to use the restroom.” She stood and leaned over, arms around him from behind as she whispered. “Try not to be too much of a dick while I’m gone, okay?”

He turned to look at her. “And where’s the fun in that?”

Turns out finding the bathroom was a harder task than she’d anticipated. She’d asked one of the servers while maneuvering through the crowd, but it also turned out that Kaya wasn’t the best with directions. She did find it, though.

Eventually.

Kaya was navigating her way back to Chris when she was stopped by a man in a suit along the way.

He was of average height, average build, and average attraction. She was immediately annoyed.

“Hi,” Kaya greeted with a tight smile.

“Hello,” he smiled. Add in average dental health. “You are very beautiful.”

Kaya realized he didn’t have an accent, either. American, most likely. “Uhh, thank you.” When she moved to walk past him, he blocked her. “Sir, I really should—”

“How much?”

Her eyes darted to either side. “I’m sorry?”

“Money is no issue, as I’m sure you can see, and I’d like you for a week.” He stepped closer, bringing his hand to trail it down her arm. “Longer even, perhaps.”

“Sir, I have no idea what you are talking about, and please do not touch me.” It wasn’t so much of a request as much as it was a demand. “Now, I really should—”

“You’re not American.” Kaya continued to be confused as hell when his eyes lit up with excitement. “That explains why you look so exotic.” Confusion easily morphed into rage as she finally caught on to what he was referring to. “I bet you feel di—”

“You’re disgusting,” she hissed, pulling away from him. “I am not a fucking prostitute—”

“Call it what you want, girl,” he dismissed. “I don’t judge. I can pay you well.”

“Go fuck yourself, you sick son of a bitch,” she cursed, turning away when he grabbed her arm. “Let me go.”

“You think that you’re special?” He’d taken on another tone, one that conveyed his anger at being rejected. “The fuckin’ stall I just pissed in is worth more than you, bitch.”

Kaya refused to allow him to see her cry, but she’d be lying if she tried to say that his words didn’t sting, especially his next verbal attack.

“You can slap on that expensive dress and let Hemsworth make you feel special, but I know, you know, and everyone else in this fucking place knows that you’re nothing but a cheap, illegal whore—” Panic arose when he moved his hand to the exposed skin of her thigh, squeezing tightly. His hand started to inch upward when Kaya acted on instinct. He cursed aloud while Kaya gasped as she realized that she’d silenced him with her fist dead square in the middle of his face. “You fucking bitch!”

Shock and fear took over as Kaya gathered the bottom of her dress and ran, as much as the gown and her heels would allow, that is. Certain he was going to chase her for retribution, she consistently looked back, unaware that she needed to be just as aware of what was in front as what was behind.

She shrieked and immediately went to pull herself away from the strong body she’d collided with.

“Kaya.” Refocusing her attention, she looked up and realized it was Chris. “Where the hell—” He stopped amid his statement when he took in her appearance and realized that she was crying. “What happened?”

“Nothing.” Kaya looked down, speaking more to herself than him. Not that it mattered. He was judging based on what he saw instead of what she said. He’d learned by now that her words rarely matched the truth. “Let’s just go—”

“Kaya,” he repeated, softer. Chris brought his hands to her face, forcing her to meet his gaze as he asked again, slowly. “What happened?” A strike of anger flashed in his blue eyes. “Did someone touch you?”

“No,” she answered, quickly. Too quickly.

The anger escalated exponentially. “Who? Tell me.”

Kaya could have slapped herself. She wasn’t helping the situation. She was making it worse. “It doesn’t matter, I hit him, and now he’s probably going to sue you—”

“Where is he?” Chris was looking behind her, eyes flaming. He was livid. “Show me. Now.”

“No.” Speaking was becoming an increasing challenge, especially against the backdrop of overwhelming emotions. Everything she’d been feeling, preventing herself from feeling, and afraid to acknowledge was gradually bubbling to the surface. “Just—just let me go back to the hotel. I’m messing everything up for you.”

He calmed for a second, realizing what was happening. Chris was unfamiliar with this side of her. Unfamiliar with seeing her so vulnerable. “What?”

Kaya suddenly realized that her eyes were burning again. She was fighting back tears. “I’ll give you back the money for the day, it’s—it’s fine, you’re better off without me here—”

Her offer to pay him incensed Chris. This wasn’t about the money. It stopped being about the money a long time ago, even if he hadn’t realized that until today. “I don’t want the fucking money, Kaya.”

She shook her head and closed her eyes. “Don’t—don’t say that.”

“Why? It’s the truth.”

“Please,” she plead. Control over her emotions was a battle she’d all but lost at that point. Her words, she was certain, would be next.

He raised his voice. Chris sensed, saw that she was uncomfortable, but he also realized that this was what she needed. A push. “Why?”

“Because this all about the fucking money, okay?” She matched his volume, accepting that her tears were going to fall no matter how much she willed them not to. She’d lost the war. “It has to be about the money, because if it isn’t then that means you care, and—you can’t, alright?”

He studied her, wondering if she realized this conversation was difficult for him too. He brought his hand to the side of her face. “Why is it so impossible for you to accept that I fucking care about you?”

She looked up, glistening eyes and wavering voice. “Because then I have to admit that I care about you too, and I can’t do that.” She spoke to herself, as if vocalizing it would cement a decision that was already out of her hands. “I won’t do it.”

“Why?” He pressed. Chris brought his other hand to the other side of her face, cupping it and moving closer. He gave zero fucks about where they were and who could have possibly overheard. “Why are you fighting this so hard?”

She pulled herself away from him, back colliding against the wall as she blurted, “because all I do is hurt the people I care about alright?” In that moment, Kaya realized she was so far gone that the point of return was no longer an option. Her mouth trembled as she struggled to form her next sentence, listing off names with her fingers as props. “Mami, Papi, Nia. Hell, my own brother is dead because of me.” A beat. “I’ll only hurt you, and I care about you too much to do that.”

“Kaya—"

A newfound heaviness started to weigh upon her chest, another blockade to her speech. “I’m standing here in a dress I can’t afford, a building I can’t even fucking pronounce, and with a man I don’t deserve.”

His voice lowered. “Did you ever think that maybe, just maybe, I don’t deserve you?” Kaya looked at him, her eyes softening before she squinted, her face scrunching up in obvious pain.

He took note of this. As invested as Chris was in finally getting Kaya to open up about how she really felt, her wellbeing would always be his primary concern.

“Kaya.” He placed his hands on her waist, steadying her. “What’s wrong?”

“I—” She blinked several times, blinding lights obscuring her vision. “I—can’t—" Kaya felt the firmness of his chest, inhaled the scent of his cologne, and heard her name on his lips before everything faded to black.

-----

She awoke on her side, body clutched against a pillow, and a thin sheet covering half her body. Never one to take her time returning to her senses, she forced herself to sit up, eyes still scrunched from the sleep.

Looking down she realized she was dressed in only one of Chris’s dress shirts, her dress discarded.

Memory returned as Kaya replayed the events that transpired prior to her slumber. The photoshoot. The party. The asshole.

Chris.

“I don’t care. Tell them to send it in the mail or something.”

She recognized his voice traveling from the living room area, prompting her to swing her legs over the bed, her toes submerging into the soft carpet. She’d never been in such a fine hotel where the carpeting probably cost more than six months’ worth of rent on her one-bedroom apartment.

“Evans, I don’t give a flying fuck about any of that right now. You can handle it. I don’t care.”

Kaya contemplated remaining where she was, eavesdropping without being detected. She quickly decided against it. She’d done enough.

Her feet carried her out of the room, and she stood in the doorway where she saw he was standing against the massive window that provided a breathtaking overview of the city.

Again, she considered leaving him be, but he either had exceptional peripheral vision or caught her reflection in the window because he spun around. Kaya’s eyebrows furrowed when she realized he was still dressed in his suit, with the expectation of the jacket and dress shirt which were both discarded, leaving the white undershirt.

Uncomfortable with the way he was looking at her, more concern than that, she settled onto the sofa, pulling a decorative pillow to her chest as she crossed her legs.

“I have to go,” he spoke briefly before pulling the phone from his ear and hanging up.

Kaya swallowed. He’d yet to speak, so she took the opportunity to do so. “Still don’t believe me when I said I’m a hot mess?”

“What happened tonight, Kaya?”

“Which part?” She knew that playing coy wasn’t the best route, but she was forever stubborn and would fight until she had nothing left. “Where I ruined your evening, assaulted a millionaire, told you one of my deepest secrets, or fainted in your arms? There’s a lot.”

“All of it.”

She looked away and licked her lips. Kaya felt cornered, absolutely trapped. Emotionally. She’d always assumed being physically stuck would feel far more suffocating and frightening. She was wrong.

Kaya considered her options, though far and few in between. She could deflect. She was a master at that. She could redirect blame onto him. Call him out on even making her go on the trip, for not telling her ahead of time what to expect, maybe throw in a few insults. And lastly, the most frightening of them all, she could be honest.

That was the scariest of them all.

“I lied to you.” The words spilled out before she realized it, but Kaya accepted the fact that she was tired. There was only so much she could carry, and she’d reached her limits. “My—my parents aren’t dead. They still live in the same house in Parlier that I grew up in with Denes. He’s—he was my brother.” It felt strange talking about, verbalizing what she’d quietly struggled with for so many years. And yet, there was a peace that accompanied the release. “He was such a beautiful little boy, but….different. He didn’t talk much, life skills were….hard for him, and he had these fixations on certain things. He didn’t like change.”

“Kaya, you don’t—”

“When I was eleven, and he was eight, my parents found out they were pregnant. They’d been trying for so long….they were so happy.” She roughly wiped at her face to do away with the silent tears that fell. The crying, however, was inevitable. “One day, they had a checkup appointment, and the babysitter fell through, so they asked me to watch Denes.” She nodded slowly, reverting to the same rush of emotions she felt that day. “I was so….mad, because my friend had just gotten Guitar Hero, and I was supposed to walk down to her house so we could play it.” To that day, Kaya felt a strong surge of rage whenever she ran across a throwback picture or read an article referring to that game. It was a trigger.

“My parents promised that I could go when they returned, but I just couldn’t wait.” Her nose turned up with disgust, disgust directed 100% inward. “I just had to go play that stupid fucking game.”

“Denes loved birds. They were one of his fixations. They think—they think he saw one outside our living room window or something and walked outside to see if he could catch it because, of course, I forgot to lock the front door.” She stared off into space before closing her eyes. “I had just walked into my friend’s house when I heard someone scream like I’ve never heard a scream before.” Kaya tugged the pillow closer to her chest and lowered her head. “I ran back so fast because I thought—I thought I could help him. I thought I could save him.” Her voice cracked. “—But there was so much blood, and he was so hurt—he died in the middle of the street, bleeding, terrified, and it was all my fault.”

Chris closed his eyes and shook his head. “Kaya—”

“They never found the driver,” she added quietly, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “The shock of it all……it was too much for my mom, and she miscarried.” Kaya laughed, but there wasn’t a trace of humor. “I spiraled after Denes passed. Everything bad and terrible I could get myself into, I did. I—I skipped class, I partied, I drank, I tried drugs.” She scoffed. “I lost my virginity when I was thirteen to some guy whose name I still don’t know because I was so drunk.” She leaned back into the sofa, staring at the intricate pattern of the rug. “I just—at the time, I thought if I did enough, I could make my parents hate me, because it’s what I deserved. But for everything I tried, they kept giving me chance after chance.”

“So, then I attempted suicide, twice, and I couldn’t even do that right.��� She groaned and wiped at her eyes again. The cuffs of the shirt were nearly soaked. “I realized that God or the universe or whomever clearly wanted me to suffer and to live with my guilt, but in the midst of trying to punish myself, I failed to realize that all I’d done was cause my parents more pain.”

“Day of my high school graduation, I woke up at the crack of dawn to pack up my bags, told my parents that I was going out with some friends, but I’d be home by 7—and I haven’t seen or spoken with them since.”

She clapped and lifted her hands. “And there you have it. You’ve now seen me naked; you’ve seen me cry, and now you know that I’m a murderer—”

“You’re not a murderer, Kaya,” he was finally able to complete his sentence, still very much in shock over what she’d disclosed. “And what happened to your brother wasn’t your fault.”

Chris watched her demeanor soften, shifting from her previous facetious tone to a more somber tone. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“I’m saying it because it’s the truth. You were a child.”

She shrugged sadly. “So was he.”

“That still doesn’t make it your fault.”

She turned away from where he sat across from her. She hadn’t even realized he’d moved from his initial position by the window. Untangling her legs, she moved the pillow to the side and stood in front of him. “Why are you so nice to me? You should be running for the hills.”

Chris brought his hands to her waist and pulled her in between his spread legs. “Why do you keep asking questions you already know the answers to?”

“Even after everything I’ve done?” She whispered, emotion betraying her for the umpteenth time that day. “You—you still—you still feel….like that about me?”

“You’re stubborn, impulsive, argumentative, flippant, and undoubtedly one of the most complicated women I’ve ever met.” He slowly stood up, never once breaking eye contact as he cupped her face, fingers brushing away the dampness of her flushed cheeks. “And yet, seeing you smile is the highlight of my day.”

She chuckled and nervously cleared her throat. “So, was today subpar? Like, medium light? Half-light? It all went downhill after 12pm.”

He shook his head and kissed her forehead. “You are, in fact, a hot mess.”

Her fingers grasped at his sleeves. “I really am sorry about ruining your evening.”

“You didn’t ruin my evening, Kaya.” He brought his hand to her hair, pushing back the tendrils that had fallen from her updo. “Thank you for opening to me. I know that wasn’t easy.”

“It’s a lot easier opening up my legs,” she muttered, watching as he closed his eyes. “I’m sorry—you’re right. It’s—it’s not easy, and I don’t like talking about….feelings.” Her eyes lifted as she chewed on her bottom lip. “But, I do have feelings for you.” She shut her eyes and licked her top lip. “And there’s something else I need to tell you.”

His gaze softened. “Anything.”

It was so simple, the opportunity was available, the setting was perfect. She’d already told him the hardest part, now all she had to do was tell him the rest. The problem though, was that what she’d shared hadn’t changed much. It only helped him to understand her better. It would potentially improve their relationship.

This would destroy it.

She cleared her throat again. “If you tell anyone I’m capable of crying, I will smother you in your sleep.”

He chuckled and kissed her temple. “It’s late. I’m going to shower.” He studied her. “Try not to get into any more trouble, yeah?”

She smiled softly. “I make no promises.”

He gave her side a gentle squeeze before yawning as he walked back into the bedroom. Finally alone, she fell back onto the sofa and hugged the pillow against her body. Kaya felt both disgust and frustration. If there was a perfect moment to tell him, that was it, and now it was gone.

She was running out of time

-------

TAGS: @islandvamp @toni9 @destinyg237 @tashawar @valkryienymph @letsshamelessqueen-m @missyperle @kpizzletrash @brittyevans @mani-lifes @amorestevens @periodtcevans @hello-therree @shegoesbyarose @lettytheletdown @yanniebunnie @iwrite4poc @nycoledon @fangurlingismyforte @babe-im-bi @amirra88 @cocoamoonmalfoy @goldenrosexx @liquorlaughslove @ljstraightnochaser @jurneesjourney @bestyums-ever84 @notacamelthatsmywife @champagnesugamama @cest-la69vie @yanniebunny5151 @goldenrosexx​

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#chris hemsworth #chris hemsworth fanfiction #chris hemsworth fandom #chris hemsworth fanfic #chris hemsworth x black!reader #chris hemsworth x black!oc #chris hemsworth x woc!oc #series: seasons of love

[sadachmesarthim]

towers for your honeycomb chap 2: more meany pants tony

part one

content: tony’s being a dick again, mention of Peter’s Family Problems, confined spaces, smoking, @carelessannie​ is a character and Has A Boyfriend That Is a Real Person I Know, tony calls peter a turtle, crying

word count: 1.5k  //   square filled: locked in a closet!

song for this chapter here -> that’s not a good excuse - eli. 

It was late, it was cold... mid-December nights were usually slow, but not no-car-in-sight-for-hours slow. Peter didn't handle any of those well on their own, but all three?

Working with Tony the entire time didn't do much to help, either.

They'd clocked on together, they'd be clocking off together - it was his worst nightmare. There wasn't anything to do, either - they'd already finished half of the closing list and every single chore. Annie had FaceTimed her boyfriend after finishing her chem homework - hell - the girls'd made a snowman outside the front of the stand, for fuck's sake!

Time was barely crawling. It made Peter irritable - apparently, it made Tony irritable, too.

⁘|||⁘

Annie hung up her FaceTime call with Sebastian, excited at the prospect of food. She turned, ready to take orders from the three that were now in front of her. "Okay - Panda Express - what is he bringing us?"

Courtney piped up first. "I'll just do another of what you're doing, A." She went back to her phone, more interested in her boy of the week than the rest of the conversation.

Annie typed it into her texts, looking back toward the boys. "You two - what is he getting you?" Tony spoke next. "I'll do the same thing. I'm easy." Peter scoffed a bit at that, covering it poorly with a cough. Annie shot him a look. Don't start shit. 

"Peter, anything?" She knew him too well to ask. "Nah babe, I'm gonna eat at home."

That suddenly got Tony's attention. "What, you're not eating? We still have two hours left, and you look like you're about to fall over." Perfect Parker timing, his stomach growled - audibly enough to justify Tony's comment.

Peter shoved past him, making his way toward the back. He didn't want to engage - he wanted to- to- to text Resa, pour himself into some chores, maybe dive into a snowdrift - literally anything but continue the conversation.

Tony on the other hand... he didn't know when to stop. "What's your deal, Parker? The man is bringing us food, on his own dime. You really gonna be rude enough to refuse?"

Peter closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing. "It doesn't matter what my deal is, Tony - maybe I just don't like Panda. Maybe I don't want something that heavy on my stomach. Maybe my mom has food waiting for me at home. You don't know shit - so why don't you just leave it alone?" Mmm a bit harsh, Parker, take it down a notch.

Tony scoffed. "We both know you don’t have anything waiting for you, anywhere, Parker. Quit talkin' big and just accept the generosity."

Both Courtney and Annie gasped at that one. It was common knowledge around the stand that Peter's home life was off-limits. Hell, everyone's was - leave your shit at the door applied to everyone else's shit too. Apparently, Tony didn't get the memo.

"Okay, nope. I'm not listening to this conversation. Both of you, fridge!" Courtney - taller and stronger than both of them - grabbed the boys, practically tossing them into the walk-in. The door slammed behind them, something jamming it from the outside.

Her voice was muffled, but they both understood - they weren't getting out until they figured this out. They'd been fighting off and on for months, and it was causing serious issues in the stand. The girls were uncomfortable - sure, it was fine if they were separated during shifts, but that couldn't go on forever.

This just happened to be everyone’s final straw.

Peter pressed his forehead into the door, not wanting to face the other man. This wasn't exactly how he'd planned on spending his evening - and now that he found himself here, he was going to do everything he could to avoid avoid avoid any further confrontation. 

His mouth hadn’t caught the memo. 

“That’s two.” Shut the fuck up. 

He couldn’t see them, but he could practically hear Tony’s eyebrows hit his hairline. “Two what?” He was still seated, from what Peter could tell. At least he wasn’t about to get his ass beat.

“Two apologies you owe me. Me and the girls. For being rude, and talking shit in the stand.” God damn it Peter, shut your mouth!

Tony scoffed. “You’re still on about that? Come on, Parker, can’t you just let it go?” 

He tried. Peter tried really, really hard to hold himself back, he did. But it just... it wasn’t like him, to take shit like this. To allow someone like- like- like Tony Stark to make his life a living hell. Mob connections be damned, he wasn’t going to take it anymore. It was exhausting, and Peter was tired of coming to work every day dreading his shift. 

He got up, turning to face Tony. He might’ve been shorter than him normally, but with Tony sat on the foot-tall milk crate, there was quite a difference. It was childish, but it made him feel like he had the upper hand. 

“You- you- you can’t keep pushing me around like this, Tony. You’ve been a dick to me for months, and I’m sick of it. All I wanted was one stupid, little apology, and you can’t even give me that! 

“I left you alone! I tried to make our shifts together easy, I stayed out of your way! I begged Courtney to never schedule us or rotate us together. Do you know how difficult that is?? Especially in a stand this size, Tony, it’s nearly impossible.” He was near tears at this point, voice close to breaking. 

“And then you have the audacity to come here, in my stand, and talk about my- my family - which was not fucking okay, by the way. It just- it’s so cruel, Tony! I’m done!

“I tried to be nice, I really did. But you make it so fucking difficult. So forgive me for not being able to just let it go.” 

⁘|||⁘

Peter was always an ugly crier. Snotty, red eyes, uncontrollable shaking. 

He was also an angry crier. The two tended not to mesh well. 

It didn’t help that people tended to not take him seriously anyway. He was small, entirely not intimidating. Couldn’t hurt a fly. The second you get him even remotely upset, and he bursts into tears? 

He wasn’t expecting sympathy from Tony. 

⁘|||⁘

He was done sobbing by this point, but the damage was done. 

He’d thoroughly embarassed himself in front of the man he’d just... just demanded so much from. It wasn’t his lowest moment, but it was close. Nice going, P.

Peter was convinced he couldn’t be locked in the fridge with anyone wor-

There was a hand on his shoulder. 

His head shot up, grabbing Tony by the wrist. “Don’t touch me!” It came out louder than he’d intended, and the look of fear written on Tony’s face did make him feel a bit bad. Peter hadn’t let go. “Just- don’t- just ask first, fuck.” 

He released his grip, turning to dig his head back into his arms. He’d tucked himself into the far corner, drawing his knees up around him so he could get as far from the door as possible. He wanted to sink himself straight into the floor, mesh with the concrete, never show his face at work again - 

But there Tony was, looking down at him like he was a startled puppy. 

He plopped himself down next to Peter, facing in toward the center of the fridge. He tilted his head, making contact with Peter’s left knee. “Would you look at me?” Gentle.

Peter sniffled, trying to clear his nose. He knew he wasn’t the most presentable right now - wet spots soaking both of his sleeves, nose probably bright & cherry-tinged. He shifted, just barely peeking past his forearms. 

“There we go.” Peter sniffled again. 

Tony looked like there was a war going on inside him. Peter’d never spent this long looking at him - certainly never this long at his eyes. There was so much to them, so much hurt and understanding he’d never seen before. So much he recognized.

Tony was drawing circles into his shin, now, steady movement bringing him back to the present. “Come on, little turtle, come outta that shell for me.” 

Peter’s eyebrows drew together. “’m not a turtle.” 

Tony laughed. “What, then? Hermit crab? Clownfish? What else hides when it’s upset?” It was a sad attempt at breaking the tension, and he knew it. 

Peter wasn’t phased by it, either. His glare stuck. 

“Okay, fine. I’m sorry. No animal nicknames. I got it.” He smiled as his hands came away from Peter’s body, pulling up in a defensive position. “Plain ‘ole human insults, then, promise.” 

Peter let out a huff. “How hard was that?” 

“Was what?” 

“You said sorry.” Oh. 

“I... I guess I did.” Tony’s hands came down. He pushed himself to his feet, crossing toward the door. “Consider it an accident.” His entire demeanor had shifted - he was back to his normal, standoff-ish self. 

Whoever Peter’d spent the last couple of minutes with was gone. 

“N- Tony I-” 

“Forget it, Peter. Seriously.” He pushed at the handle of the fridge door, thankful it was free to open. He bypassed the girls, grabbing the rest of his shit and tearing out the door. The cigarette barely lit with how fast he made the trek to his truck, lighter burning the side of his thumb. 

When did he get so soft? 

Fuck.

tag list: @longlivestarker​ @bluestarker​ xoxo​

#sfsummerbingo21 #starkerfestivalsevents #starker #peter parker/tony stark #peter parker x tony stark #.mine #.fic #i wrote all of this save the last bit of dialogue a week ago #i just couldn't find a place to end it #i found a place apparently #coffee shop au #more enemies babey

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

The Perfect Bad Boy (Pt. 12 of 18)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader

Word count: 3 K

Summary: Working as a lifeguard in the Hawkins Community Pool, you try to fit in after moving from New York. Things were going pretty well when you notice you've been under someone's stare. Billy Hargrove, Hawkins' bad boy, has been staring at you since day one. You never intended to have anything to do with him, judging by the reputation he has. But Billy won't leave you alone, determined to show you his feelings are different this time...

As if your heart flooding you with confusing feelings wasn't enough, there are weird, strange animals lurking in the woods... But those have to be just part of the wild live of the woods surrounding Hawkins... Right?

<- Previous part (11)

Next part (13) ->

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

×

Apparition

A wave of courses leave Diane's lips when you're done telling her what happened yesterday. She tells you Robert is a lawyer, and if Neil ever shows up again, she won't save up money to sue his ass off. You couldn't agree more. But after the tense moment has passed, the three of you seat on the kitchen table, ready for a different kind of tension.

“Alright. Now, aunt. We're actually here for something else.” You start, clearing your throat and trying not to show that you're nervous about it. It's not that you're changing your mind, but you're aware of the big decision you're taking. And you're scared it won't work in the end, but still, you want to do it, to know how it would be to live with Billy. Well, with Maxine too. You're trying not to overthink, but to just give this crazy idea a chance.

“What is it?” She squints her eyes, flying from Billy and back at you.

“You tell her.” You elbow Billy, who looks at you with wide eyes. “It was your idea.” You lower your voice.

“But she's your aunt.” He complains.

“Alright, kids. What's going on?” Diane raises her voice, tapping on the table. “Should I be worried? I heard some rumors and–”

“No. It's... Good news.” You assure her, taking a deep breath before–

“I asked her to come to live with me.” Billy bursts out, and you don't know why but you feel so damn nervous about it, so you hold his hand. It's a funny feeling, one that you never felt. You never introduced any of the guys you dated to your parents. The only two guys you dated before. You did tell their names to Diane, but that was it. A short time after the relationship was over anyway, so it was never a thing. But this... This is huge.

“Well, that's... That's a big step you're taking." Diane doesn't seem mad, and you remember she's nothing like your parents. She understands you, supports you, and it makes you feel better, confident. And if you mess up, she will be right here to help you up. “Are you both sure about it?”

You both nod at the same time. “I came up with the idea.” Billy starts. ”We have the same plans about the routine when summer is over and the classes are back.” He moves your holding hands over the table, his thumb caressing the back of your hand. “I own my house, so it just makes sense since (Y/N) plans on staying in Hawkins.” He makes a pause. “As do I. And you wouldn't have to pay rent anymore.”

“It's not this part that matters. I came to live here because I wouldn't leave (Y/N) alone and I have no trouble driving to the clinic. What matters is what you guys are feeling. Living together is a big step. You'll be around each other all day, you'll get to know each other a lot better and fights will happen.” She's using the mom's voice, and it's so cute. You can't even remember how many times you wished she was your real mother. How many times you called her, in tears, sobbing, asking why she wasn't the one to put you into this world. But it doesn't really matter now, because it's Diane, it always has been, who was a mother to you. It's to her you run to when you need advice, and she's the one you're nervous about telling this decision. Your parents won't know about this, they don't have to. But Diane? She has to. You own her this much. “And you can't just break apart when the first disagreement hits.”

“We won't,” Billy speaks up before you can, tightening his grip on your hand a little. Turning your head, you look at him, those blue eyes reassuring you about all this, and a smile comes to your lips. “I love (Y/N). I think you, as her mother figure should know that.”

This takes you by surprise. You never thought Billy would be the one to act like this. He's still impressing you, every passing day...

“Then you already said the three big words to each other,” Diane states, but your eyes are locked on Billy's.

“We did,” you assure her, suddenly aware of the public, what makes you blush. “I really wanna do this, aunt.”

“I know, honey. I'll give you my permission then.”

“What?” You gasp, laughing a little. “I wasn't asking for permission. I was just... Letting you know.” Raising an eyebrow, you give her a smirk.

“I give permission.” Diane crosses her arms, leaning back on her chair.

“I don't–”

“Let's just start packing up your things.” Billy cuts you off, and you wonder if he's trying to get into your aunt's good side. He pulls you off the chair and you have no choice but to follow him.

You still have an hour before you have to get to the pool, so you start working. Diane helps until she has to go too, telling you she'll call the house owner from the clinic and let him know you'll be moving out.

As you put all your clothes and personal stuff into the three pieces of baggage you have, you feel it becoming real. Yesterday you were both a little high from the commotion, but now... You're actually doing it. You and Billy are emptying out your wardrobe and drawers, and the few stuff you have around the bedroom. You make a few trips to his car and back, making sure nothing is left behind.

“You don't have much stuff besides clothes,” Billy says as you both stand by the door frame, looking at the now empty bedroom.

“No. Actually, most of the clothes I have now I bought in Indianapolis. When I left New York I had nothing but a backpack.” You can't help but smile at the memory. You felt like a teenager that day, running away. It was the first time on a plane, but the whole flight was a blur. You could only think that you were finally free, to do what you wanted with your life.

“Ready to go? We can drop your things off before driving to the pool.”

“Yup. Let's go.”

The short ride back to his place is silent since you're a little lost in your own head. You don't know why, but the fear you once had of falling for Billy hits again. What if this is a mistake? What if it's way too soon to do this and this is what will break you apart. ‘We're bound to break.’ The sentence hits you like a brick, and you can't help but nervously run a hand through your hair, looking at the landscape outside the window.

“(Y/N),” Billy calls, and when you turn your face to look at him, you notice you're already here. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I... I just...”

“Did you change your mind?” His voice sounds weak, still deep and strong but... Weak. Fearful.

“No, I just... I don't want to ruin what we have. Guess I'm a little scared.” Shrugging your shoulders, you take a deep breath, stretching your arm and touching the back of his neck. “Aren't you? Not even a little bit?”

“Yes. I'm scared you'll open your eyes and realize the asshole I am and walk away.” Billy opens the door and steps out of the car.

“Shit,” you mumble, doing the same. “Billy, wait.” You raise your voice, eyes on his back as he goes to the front door. He's still affected by what happened yesterday, and it seems that the only thing that's making him happy is the fact that you're here. “Won't you help me carry these things inside?”

You smile when he stops, biting your lips when he turns on his heels and comes back.

You have your eyes on the clock since you couldn't help start putting things in their places. The room is a mess because of the bad idea of laying everything on the bed and only then start looking for places. You're thankful that he has some space in his wardrobe, but you'll need a new one, bigger. When you're tired of dealing with the clothes, you leave him to it and move to his bathroom. And there's definitely no space in the cabinet. You sit on the floor, looking at your things, and at the space you have to put them.

“It won't fit,” you complaim, considering putting everything on a box under the bed.

“What won't fit?” Billy asks from the bedroom, but he soon comes to your aid. “Ok, let me see.” He offers his hand and you take it, pulling yourself up. “You have... Three different types of shampoo.”

“Yes,” you mutter, leaning on the door frame. “One is for when my hair is dry, the other–”

“Two types of hair conditioner.” He's having way too much fun today, you can tell by the tone of his voice there's a smile hidden.

“I couldn't choose the scent I liked more.” You have no idea why you're explaining this to him.

“And... Two types of tampons.”

“For goodness sake, Billy!” You yell, felling your whole face burning. In an insanely fast move, you take the boxes from his hand, putting them away from his sight. The smile on his face makes you want to punch him.

“Chill, princess.” Grabbing the shampoo and hair conditioner, he gets back to his feet. “We can put those in the shower organizer.”

“Mhmm.” Looking down, you're still trying to swallow the embarrassment, drumming your fingers on the wall.

“You're so cute when you're blushing, strawberry,” Billy says as he comes out of the shower box, a smirk on his lips.

“I thought you said I looked like a tomato last time.” Giggling, you step back, running from his embrace.

“Yeah, but strawberries are cute.” He moves fast, a strong arm encircling your waist and pulling you close, making you collide against his chest. “Like you.”

“Did you know that when two women live together, their cycles are likely to get in sync?” It's your time to tease now, so you make sure to give him a wicked smile.

“And?” He furrows his eyebrows.

“You'll have two girls PMSing at the same time.” You can't help but laugh at his face, as he tries to understand what you just said. “Now, are you changing your mind, baby?” Keeping your voice soft, you peck his lips.

“Billy, where–” Max swings the door open, but her words are cut short, and when you look at her, you see the reason why. There are still some clothes scattered around. “What the hell is all this?”

“Uhm...” You forgot to tell Maxine.

“(Y/N) lives here now,” Billy says, embracing your waist from behind when you turn around to face Max.

You're nervous to read her expression, but it's blank. She doesn't believe it. What if she doesn't want you here? “A-are you happy about it?”

“Are you kidding? I'll have someone else in this house to talk to other than this shithead.” Her face breaks into a smile, and you're so damn relieved. “You're really serious this time, aren't you, Billy?”

“Yeah.” He mumbles, his mouth is dangerously close to your ear.

“Well, I'll leave you two alone before I'm grossed out.” Max rolls her eyes and leaves.

Taking a deep breath, you turn around, Billy's arms never letting go of you. “So... We're dating for less than twenty-four hours and we're already living together. We're both completely crazy, Hargrove.”

“I don't see a problem with that.” Billy crushes his lips on yours, and you laugh through the kiss. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you stumble backwards as he pushes you, tasting the lips you dreamed about for so long. A groan gets caught on your throat when your hip hits his dresser before your back hits the wall, which makes you laugh again.

“Ouch!” You exclaim, faking an angry face that soon enough fades away. You wonder if you'll ever get over the sensation Billy provokes. The nervousness, the butterflies on your stomach... You slide your arms down from his neck, so you're touching his chest. You guess it's ok now, right? To look at him and want to touch him. And you're kinda upset his wearing a shirt.

“Sorry. Just can't believe I can kiss you now.”

“It's not a big deal, Billy.” Biting your lip, you look at the clock he has on the dresser beside you. “We gotta go though. Or else we'll be late again.” When you turn to look at him, his face is different. It's the same from last night, full of pain and suffering. You're about to ask what happened when you realize you gave him a good sight of your bruised cheek. Red and purple, with the scratch from Neil's ring. Your eyes fall on his wounds too, on the apple of his cheek, his lower lip and above his left eyebrow. “Baby–”

“I'm sorry, (Y/N)–”

“I'm not,” you whisper, cupping his face with your hands. “I'll say it again: I'd face a hundred Neils for you. Without thinking twice. I love you, baby.”

Slowly, a smile comes to his lips. “I like it when you call me baby.”

“Well, baby...” Pushing him away, you gesture at the clock. “We gotta go.”

•

You somehow managed to get to the Community Pool right on time, despite being way too playful on your way there. The fact that you're holding hands until you have to split up at the lockers gets some attention. You change into the red swimsuit before putting on the sunblock, seated on one of the benches. You're putting your hair up on a ponytail when you hear a whistle, which makes you jump, heartbeat increasing.

“No running on my watch!” You hear Billy's yell, and you can't help but laugh. The kids are terrified of him.

You're playing with the tips of your hair when you leave the locker, making the way to the chair to start the day. Knowing there's a funfair to go to makes you want the day to pass real quick. You've never been to anything like that, and it'll be good to have something new and different to do.

“(Y/N).” Someone calls and you stop, turning on your heels to see who is it. All the joy melts when you see David, walking over you. “Been a while. How are you?”

“I'm great. You?” You ask just to be polite.

“Perplexed to know you're still hanging out with Hargrove. I even heard these rumors that you're–”

“Pregnant?” You cut him off, sighing. “Yeah. But I'm not. I fainted because of heat exhaustion, that's all.“ You give a step back, turning your head at the kid's pool, trying to make him notice you're not interested in talking. You'd work for twenty-four hours non stop if it means you won't have to talk to David.

“The hell is that on your face?” He raises his voice, and you suddenly remember the bruise and cut on your cheek. You forgot the damn thing. But you hate the way he talks, as if he had any right to. David's eyebrows are furrowed, an angry expression on his face.

“It's–”

“Did he do that to you?” David looks and gestures at something behind you, and you know who it is. A second later you feel Billy behind you and you immediately feel better. “He's beat up too. What the hell–”

“We got into a fight but that not your business,” Billy says, his voice especially deep and low. Like an unspoken threat.

“You should see the other guy,” you mutter, and a small smile involuntary comes to your lips.

“(Y/N), if this asshole did that you can tell me. I can–”

“David, stop it. Billy didn't hurt me and I don't have to tell you anything.” You can feel Billy getting tense.

“What do you expect me to think when you're still hanging around this asshole and then you show up with your face all screwed up? But if you want to be his whore, be my guest, (Y/N), good luck with that.”

“Now you stepped over the line,” Billy shouts, stepping forward, burning with anger. But you know this will end badly for him since he's an employee here and David is a client. If you were anywhere else, you wouldn't lift a finger.

“Let it go, baby.” You raise your voice, moving to stand between your boyfriend and David.

“I told you I'd break his nose the next time.”

“I know, but it's not worth it.” You keep a hand on Billy's chest, but you turn to face David. “Listen up, buddy. I couldn't care less about what you think you know. We're not friends, so the next time you want to come and talk to me as if we were anything else than two people who happen to live in the same town, don't. I have a boyfriend who looks after me, I have real friends and an aunt who looks after me. I don't need you.” You keep a straight face as if the words had no meaning at all. David looks like he was hit by a train, embarrassed because he knows there are people nearby, listening. You have been noticing most of the people here don't like him very much. Can't possibly understand why. “And next time you do anything like this, I won't stop Billy.” Leaning closer, you whisper: “I might even help him beat you up a little.”

He doesn't say anything else. He just walks away, leaving the pool. You turn around to look at Billy, as he follows David with his eyes until he's gone before looking down at you. “Damn, (Y/N).”

“Damn indeed.” Smiling, you chose to ignore the public for a while, tiptoeing to kiss him. Billy wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you up. God, you can feel dozens of eyes on your back. And you don't care one bit.

“Look what we have here.” Monica's voice is what makes you pull away, being put down again. “This must mean something good, I hope.”

“Guess,” you say, winking at her. But Monica's face changed and you know why.

Her eyes fly from you to Billy then back at you. “You guys ok? Got into a fight or something?”

“I'll explain everything later. We're still going to get ready for the funfair at your place, right?”

“Yup. All our girl friends. No boys allowed.” She points a finger at Billy. Despite the light tone of her voice, you can tell she's worried.

“No boys allowed,” you repeat, tiptoeing once more to place a quick kiss on his lips. “Now, let's get to work.”

•

At the end of the day, you're utterly bored. But there are still two hours to go. The pools are almost empty, compared to the number of people you have here daily. People are excited about the fair and left soon to meet up with their friends, and it only makes you more excited by the minute. So you're not on your post, you're seated on the middle step of Billy's chair, in between his legs, using his sunglasses, hoping the hours will pass by faster.

But honestly, you're already done for today. “This is the worse workday ever,” you mutter, breathing out. “We could actually leave. Anthony isn't even here.” You complain, staring at a small group of teenagers across the pool.

“Let's go then.” He lightly kicks your arm.

“What?”

“Let's go.” You get up when you feel him moving, giggling as he jumps to the ground and takes your hand.

You don't even bother to change, you just get your stuff and run to the car. You're a breathless mess when he speeds away, feeling like a teenager again, running from school.

Maxine is perplexed to see both of you home so soon, and she mumbles something about expecting something like this from Billy but not from you. It just makes you laugh harder. You quickly put the rest of your clothes in their new places before you decide to chill until it's time to go. Well, you'll go to Mon's earlier and he'll meet you there.

You can't believe you're so excited about this. Maybe you're just happy about everything and it's channeling to the fair. But it'll also be the first time you and Billy will go out as boyfriend and girlfriend. Maybe it's silly to think like that, but you think it's ok to be silly for a while. You're drinking a glass of cold water by the sink, looking at the street through the window. Hawkins is beautiful, and you can't help but wonder, imagine, what it could be from now on. You mean, you still got college to go through, but you want to know what will come next. You know what you want, but you still need to know what Billy wants. But it's not the time to think about it yet. You still have a good amount of summer ahead.

Running a hand through your hair, you go back to the living room, a smile forcing its way to your lips when you see Billy on the bench press, lifting the bar over his head. “Looking good, baby,” you tell him, getting one of his famous smirks, the same that once had you hating him for a while.

“Good to know you're enjoying the view, princess.”

Your eyes suddenly fall on your glass, still half full, as an idea crosses your head. Slowly, you walk over the bench until you're right next to him, looking down. “What if I...” You turn the glass just a little bit, threatening to spill the water on his chest.

Billy doesn't stop though, raising an eyebrow at you. “You won't do it.” He says, way too confident.

“Uhum...” You mumble right before fulfilling the threat and throwing water on him.

“What the–”

Bursting into laughter, you run on the moment you see him getting up. “Can't believe you did that.” He exclaims, and you're about to reach the hall when you're grabbed from behind, an arm around your waist, lifting you up. “Give me that!” He tries to grab the glass and you struggle to keep it out of his reach.

“Stop it!” You shout in between laughs, almost losing your breath since he's holding exactly on your ticklish spot. You gasp when you feel a bunch of water on your face. “It's glass, careful.”

“You have no idea what you started.” He yells, still trying to throw what's left of the water on you.

“What's all the yelling about?” Max's voice startles both of you, and when Billy moves, his feet slips and you're suddenly pulled down with him, falling on your butt. Your laughter clouds whatever Max is saying as you just stand there, on the floor. “You're crazy, you two.” She mumbles before heading back into her room.

“I–” You're interrupted by someone blasting the horn outside, and you know it's Monica. “That's my ride,” you tell him, pushing your body up to a sitting position, looking down at Billy. “See you there?”

“I miss you already.” One of his hands comes to caress your cheek, and you bend down to place a quick kiss on his lips.

After taking the bag with your outfit for the night, you meet up with Monica on the sidewalk. She's obviously excited about the fair, and so are you. The sun is down already, and the first signs of the night are already here.

“Hanging out at Billy's, huh?” She asks as she drives away.

“Yeah...” You can't wait to tell her, but you'll wait until Billy is with you. She'll freak out, you're sure. “Things are going unbelievably well between us.”

“I can see that.” Monica gives you a look, winking. “Candace and Alice will come a little later so we'll have some time to talk. And little lady, you have a lot to talk about.”

Smiling at her, you nod, turning your head to look at the landscape outside the window. The woods fly past you, the darkness already taking over under the trees. Something moves, and you move in your seat too, trying to see what it is. You're about to tell Monica when a strange feeling builds up on your stomach, and you squint your eyes, trying to see better.

That thing is as fast as the car, easily keeping up. Then you see another one, a little slower, but still unnaturally fast. Clenching your hands into fists, you quickly notice this is not the first time you see something like this. The low light, that somehow still finds it's a way through the leaves, gives you a sudden glimpse of their skin. And just as you thought, as you hoped not to be, it's naked. Like a dark, slick skin. The face is shapeless as if it didn't have one.

Terrified, you look away, focusing on the road ahead.

“(Y/N)? Are you alright?” Monica's voice sounds distant, low.

“Yeah.” You breathe out, nodding, and clearing your throat. “I'm ok.” Forcing a smile, you say it more to yourself than to her.

This gotta be a mistake. You're probably... You don't know. Imagining it? But James saw it, the same damn thing... Whatever it is, it's not in your head. It's real. Giving another look at the woods, you look for the animals, but they're gone. You should feel relieved, but you don't. You have to tell Billy about it and then the police. Someone has to do something, find out what this... Thing is. What if it starts attacking people? What if it leaves the woods and starts going into town?

Taking a deep breath, you run a hand through your hair. You'll try to keep it together for tonight. But tomorrow, you'll do something. You have to.

×

@chloe-skywalker @dpaccione @dreamin-of-dacre @funeral-7 @uncookspaget @youhavemyfantasticbeasts @halloweenbitch2764 @redlovett @multific @shinydixon @nikkixostan

#imagine billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove #billy stranger things #stranger things imagine #imagine stranger things

[artichokedoesnttrustyou]

Yes Mr. Stark, No Mr. Stark

Starker Kink Exchange prompt (That’s super late) @starkerkink

Gift for tumblr user @blankblankityblank 

Prompt: Peter or Tony finds out something that the other did and get very angry, so they punish the other. 

Tags: 18+, Explicit, Dominance, D/S, Masturbation, Edging, Whipping *

Edit 1: I am so sorry this took me so long to write. I just noticed that you requested spanking and not whipping so I'm also sorry about that. This is my first Starker fic, also first age gap fic. 

Edit 2: This has been sitting in my drafts since mid October and I’ve just been so afraid to post. Anyway it’s February almost March and I feel like shit for not giving it to you yet. So I hope you do like it. 

Ao3

MINORS DNI

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Peter was sprawled out on his shared king size bed. Hand on dick teasing himself he moaned in frustration. In need, in want. He wanted more than what his hand could provide. The tv was on, it was playing sex videos from Porn Hub. Peter had F.R.I.D.A.Y. turn it all the way up so it would feel as though he was there in the room with the actors. He had his eyes shut as he imagined the actor dom speaking to him. 

He was holding a vibrator that he was using to tease himself. The toy vibrated his inside sending small shocks through his body, he continued to push it in and out of himself. 

But between the porn star moans and the slick hand rubbing against his dick it didn’t make him feel what he wanted.

He was horny with no helpful outlet. The dom in the video wasn't doing "it" enough for him. No raspy deep voice ringing in his ears telling him what he could and couldn't do. No structure, no guidelines, no rules, expectations or consequences.... No fun. None of it was real or had his heart racing.

“Sir, Mr. Stark has arrived,” the computer generated voice of F.R.I.D.A.Y. came through. Peter could hardly hear her over the loud moans coming from the tv. A few seconds passed before it registered to Peter what she said to him. ‘Mr. Stark was back!’ Peter jumped up immediately from the news. 

“Oh fuck!” He exclaimed as he scrambled off the bed to find his discarded underpants that were thrown off along with his other clothes 20 minutes prior. 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y turn off the tv,” Peter commanded as he pulled up the stretchy material to cover up his genitals. The room was suddenly quiet as he threw on the remainder of his clothing. Quickly he kicked the vibrator under the bed and rubbed his oily well lubed hands onto the bed sheets just as the door was opening.

“Hey babe,” he was greeted by Tony who wore a black suit with his tie already loose and ready to be pulled off.

“Hey!” Peter greeted back already back in bed under the sheets.

Tony looked around, a bit skeptical about what his boyfriend was doing. The room was quiet, his boyfriend was fully clothed in the room, the lights were slightly dim, and Peter’s hair was sticking up in odd places and visibly damp from where Tony’s stood.

“What were you doing?” Tony asked a small smile threatening to appear on his face. 

“Me? Oh I was,” Peter paused, his brain not coming up with anything on the fly. His eyes darted over to the tv. “I was watching tv.” 

“Tv?” Tony questioned gesturing to the off screen. “The tv that’s currently turned off?”

“Yep. Just boring old tv. I was done watching it,” Peter spoke. He made sure to keep his voice leveled. Well not too leveled or Tony would totally know something was up. He watched as Tony went to the closet and stripped himself of his clothing. 

“Maybe we can watch something together?” Tony calls over his shoulder. Peter was half way listening. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Tony's muscular back. And watching as the sun kissed skin managed to hug tightly against Tony’s muscular back making Peter wish he could run his tongue against-

“Are you listening?”

“Huh?” Peter blinked back into reality. Tony was now closer to the bed, having changed into pajama pants and a black tee. 

“I said, maybe we can watch together.”

Peters eyes went wide. “Um no, we can do anything else!”

This caused Tony to lift an eyebrow.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m just excited to see you.”

“Friday turn on the tv.”

The tv turned on and the adult film that Peter was watching a view minutes ago flickered onto the tv. The sound was still raging loud and the moan from the male bounced around the room. Tony grabbed the remote and turned it down. 

“Never heard of this show, what's it called?” Tony asked as he sat the remote back down on the nightstand. “Is it ‘Lying Little Boys’?” His voice dropped a bit, real deep that it sent an electrical jolt down Peter’s spine and straight to his dick. Which by the way had gone flaccid but now twitching to be touched.

“I honestly just watch for the plot. You know the shitty acting and stuff like that. The porn was just an, uh, a second thought. Ya know?” Peter went on a little rant not paying much attention to Tony anymore but more to his own words. Tony nodded his head as if he was listening to Peter, but he wasn’t. Instead Tony was looking for evidence for what Peter was actually doing.

He pulled back the sheets that were strategically bunched up near Peter's waist. Underneath was Peter in tight black jeans, which was weird since Peter was supposedly “watching tv” and he’d feel uncomfortable laying in bed in jeans. 

Also not to mention the lube in between Peters legs. 

“Hm?” Tony tutted, waving the lube in front of Peters face. “Just for plot you say?” 

Peter’s face began to heat up from sudden embarrassment as he became very still. 

“No response little one?”

“Well uh,” Peter started unsure what to say. His words were gone and even if they were able to spill from his mouth he’d stutter out some pathetic explanation as to why there so happened to be sexual pleasure lube in bed with him.

“Play room, stripped except  for your underwear, and kneeling,” is all Tony said before Peter rolled himself out of bed and out the room.

...

Peter rushed up the steps of Mr. Stark's place at a fast walking pace. He hurried to the play room that Mr. Stark had instructed him to go just a few moments ago. He kinda fucked up. Well no, he's totally fucked up. He pulled on the hem of his shirt and quickly tugged it over his head and off of his body, leaving him cold, a shiver going down his spine. He kicked off his shoes and peeled his tight black jeans off of his body. He stood in the center of the room in his socks and underwear. Mr. Stark did say to strip. But Mr. Stark usually wants him completely nude, what's different now? He did lie straight to the others face, maybe that's what changed? Wait but if he isn't completely nude does this mean that this would be strictly punishment? Peter didn't want strictly punishment he also wanted fun.

Peter rubbed his fingers through his hair in deep thought. He was slightly panicking and he really needed to breathe. Just breathe.

He took a breath in and shook his arms out to try to calm down. 

A quick look to the door and Peter slipped out of his socks before folding them neatly in a pile and kneeling in the middle of the room.

He didn’t hear the door open but he did hear the soft click of it shutting behind Tony. Peter strained to try to hear where Mr. Stark would walk. Would it be to him or maybe to one of the many toys located around the room. 

“Stand up,” Tony said as he held wrist cuffs in his hands. As he strapped them on to Peter he talked. “You and I both know you’re not supposed to be touching what’s not yours without permission right?”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes sir,” Peter fixed himself. Tony hummed as he brought Peter over to the huge black X that was over by the wall. It was mantled to the garnet red wall, leaving Peter no space to run away once his wrists were connected to the top of the X. He parted his legs to be shoulder length apart as he has done so many times before. 

He felt Mr. Stark get close to him. Really close. His chest pressed firmly against Peters back, his mouth only inches away from Peters ear. It made his body cave, he wanted more, and during this whole interaction his hornyness never left him. 

“Traffic light,” Tony asked him softly into his ear. His breath sending shivers through Peter and all he wanted to do was reach out and touch his lover, his master. 

“Green,” Peter replied. 

And suddenly the warmth of Tony's body was gone. Way too quick for Peter's liking. 

The first lash was never hard, Tony always made sure that the first was a warning. It landed right across his perfect little bubble butt. Peter let out a breath that he didn't know he was holding. A quick gasp as the next his his lower back with more sting to it. 

A constant flow in between the center of his shoulder blades. A criss cross type of pattern until a small squeak exited the boy's mouth that he was trying so hard to keep in. This went on for what seemed like forever. Each strike sent Peter deeper and deeper into submission as the pain started to increase. He was so lost in a haze that it took Peter a few seconds to realize that Mr. Stark had stopped. 

He looked upon the nice rosey red skin, running his hand down feeling the heat radiate off of well beaten skin. 

“Light?” Tony asked Peter and in response got green. 

“Now,” Tony started as he wrapped his arm around Peter's waist to reach his dick, he felt that the member was still half hard. “Let’s get you down and start on some real fun.”

...

“Did you have fun earlier,” Tony asked Peter as they now stood in the middle of the room. He pushed back a few strays of hair that was covering Peters face.

The shorter boy nodded his head in response.

“Verbal answers are the best answers,” Tony sang a little, rubbing his thumb over Peters lips. “Did you have fun earlier before I came in?”

“Yes I did.”

“Good.”

The fingers pressed firmly against Peters mouth And in a matter of seconds slipped right in. Peter loved objects in his mouth and sucking on fingers as well as other things brought him joy. 

“Mmm, you seem hungry would you like to suck on something more than my fingers?” Tony asked. 

“Oh please sir,” he mumbled out through the fingers.

Tony chuckles, “alright go ahead.”

He sank to the floor, the fingers out of his mouth now and in any other situation they would be missed but Peter already had his mouth set on something bigger. Something better. 

His fingers touching softly upon the dark plaid pajamas pants that Tony wore. He tugged it down as well as Tony’s boxers to reveal Tony’s semi hard member. 

He wrapped his fingers around it giving it a good few pumps before shoving it into his mouth.

Dick in mouth Peter hummed as he felt Tony’s hands comb his hair. Soft touches at first until Peter tried to pull back. 

“Have I told you that you have an amazing mouth?” Tony comments as his grip became tighter in Peters hair. It was like a handle that he used to forcefully fuck into Peters mouth. 

Peter allowed his mouth to go slack, the member going farther in. And if Peter didn’t think about it, he was able to not gag as the dick hits the back of his throat. 

But soon he needed to breathe, having not yet mastered how to breathe and suck dick at the same time. 

The wet sounds of the dick sloshing around in Peters mouth adding to the slight gagging that happened randomly turned Peter on so much. The taste of salty slime faintly on his tongue. The rough thrust from Mr. Stark. The grunts that fell from Mr. Stark as well as the almost unbearable pain of having his hair pulled. Oh yes, Peter loved all of it. 

And then it was gone.

Mr. Stark stepped back. Looking down at Peter who took this moment to catch his breath. Tony noticed a few stray tears coming from Peters eyes but he didn’t miss the smile that was also plastered upon his cute pink lips. 

“I wanna fuck you” Tony says quickly and disheveled. This caught Peters attention. To be fucked my Mr. Stark today?! But he touched himself without permission? This wasn’t adding up in his head but Mr. Stark was already walking to a drawer to get a condom and lube, and he himself was already getting on his feet to lean over the table he was instructed to go. 

He waited for a bit, quite impatiently. He was horny. Even though his dick didn’t truly show it, Peter could feel it. He needed release. And as he waited impatiently he became to rub himself against the wood he was bent over. It didn’t do much, hardly no where close to anything Peter wanted but that didn’t stop him from rubbing. Not to mention the small amount of cloth that surrounded his dick took away most of the friction he wanted. 

Sharp pain to the middle of his right ass cheek sent Peter to the tip of his toes. 

“Do you need another lesson in not touching what's not yours?” Tony's voice came from behind him. Peter wouldn’t have been able to see him even if Tony’s hand wasn't around the back of his neck stopping him from standing up straight. 

“Ah! No sir! I’m sorry sir.”

Tony aimed for the other cheek and enjoyed the small bounce of Peters ass from the sudden impact. “That’s twice you’ve done this.”

“I’m sorry sir,” Peter repeated while he pushed his ass in the air and gave it a little wiggle. 

“Oh I don’t believe you are. But that’s ok, we’ll fix that.”

A small sound of disappointment was heard from Peter and all Tony could picture is his baby’s face scrunched up in a small pleading pout. He pulled Peter up and placed a kiss on his cheek.

“Stop being whiny,” he says as he kisses him again.

“Mm, yes sir.” 

After laying Peter back down Tony opened up the lube he had brought over. Pouring some onto his fingers and Peters crack, he began to push in two fingers. 

It was fairly easy for Tony to finger the other. Way too easy.

Fingers still in ass Tony grabbed Peters hair and tugged forcing a whine through Peters lips. 

“Something you wanna say boy?”

Peter gnawed softly upon his bottom lip. “No sir not really.”

In quick movements Peter was suddenly on his back looking up at Mr. Stark and the ceiling.

A smack landed upon Peters cheek. And he almost reached up to touch his face. But he caught himself.

He focused his eyes back onto Tony who was looking at him expectantly.

“That’s number three. Would you like to try again?”

Peter nodded his head unsure if he should talk. It’s been a while since he’s gotten to strike three. 

“Tell me.”

“I kicked the toy under the bed before you walked in.”

“Thank you for telling me. Are you well stretched?”

“Yes sir.”

Tony exited Peter's view. The sounds of metal dangling, best described to be chains, reached Peters ears before Tony came back into view. 

"I'm going to restrain your hands so you don't continue to touch yourself," Mr. Stark explained as he began to bring Peter’s arms together and above his head. He connected the chains to the cuffs that Peter still wore and then to an undisclosed area that Peter wasn't quite sure on. 

Once done, Tony returned to his previous position at the end of the table. He grabbed Peters hips and pulled him until his ass was on the edge.

Lining himself up he pushed himself into Peters ass. Pushing in slowly for caution just in case Peter wasn’t as stretched as Peter said he was. 

“Mmm,” he moaned once he entered completely. "I’m going to enjoy this," he smiles, making eye contact with Peter.

His thrusts began to go faster, both enjoying the friction. 

Reaching down Tony started to rub Peters dick. 

Other than his shouts of pure bliss he watches as Peter begins to twitch beneath Tony’s touch. 

But soon in the middle of his own blist Tony started to notice that Peter was also close to orgasming so he removed his hand and forced more on his humping. 

The room was filled with yes’s and fuck’s as Tony soon reached his climaxed. 

Tony pulls out, catching his breath. He looked at Peter who had the most wanting look in his eyes. Tony pulled off the condom and discarded it in the trash can across the room. 

He came back and looked down at Peter before bringing his hand down Peters stomach. 

“Do you want attention now?” Tony asks.

“Yes, please yes.”

That’s all Tony needed to hear.

His hand on Peters dick jacking him up and down. The sweetest moans escaping Peter's mouth. 

He loved doing this. Knowing that he was the one giving Peters the pleasure that Peter wanted. He just needed to remind Peter of their dynamic. 

Peters toes began to curl meaning he was getting close to his orgasm.

And then Tony stopped. He pulled back his hands and momentarily discontinued all physical contact with Peter.

“No, no,” Peter begs. The words falling from his lips without him even thinking. 

“Huh? What was that?” Tony asks, lifting an eyebrow. He walked around the table until he was by Peters head, looking down and over him. They looked at each other. Well Tony looked at Peter, and Peter squeezed his eyes shut as he pulled on the bondage that kept his hands away from touching himself. 

“S- sir,” Peter begs.

“Yes Peter?”

“Please.” 

“Please? Are you asking me to continue?” Tony asks. “But I thought I was ‘sir’? Am I not?”

Peter frantically nods his head.

“Please sir, yes sir. It’s up to you.”

He ran his hand over Peters nipples, twisting them a little to force a few grunts and pitiful whines from the other. A smile forming on Tony's face.

“Will you tell me if you are close to orgasm?” Tony asks.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, that was one.”

Tony reached for the lube while he walked back to the other end of the table, Peter watching his every move. He poured a bit more onto his hand and then firmly grabbed Peters dick again. 

“Mmm fuck,” Peter mumbles out. 

He moved his hips up toward Tonys hand basically fucking it. He squeezed his eyes shut as his body tenses. All he wanted was to get off. 

“Sir, i'm close, can I please come?”

“No.”

A word that Peter most definitely did not like one bit. And he felt Tony's hand disappear from around his dick.

“Nooo,” he whines knowing full well he wasn't going to win this interaction. If Tony said no then Tony said no. That's how it works. 

“Please?” he begs again softly. 

Tony leaned down and casually kissed Peter's stomach. “No.”

A whine escaped his mouth and he once again tugs on his restraints. 

A small chuckle escaped Tony's mouth as he watched the other tug on the strains in a totterly like tantrum. Soon enough Peter settled down and looked at Tony with the world's biggest brown eyes. Full of lust and want and willing to do anything that Tony would say, Tony like that.

“What number are we on?” Tony asks, joking with Peter. 

“Sir it was two” Peter pants arching his body towards Tony's touch. But to his dismay Tony kept his hand just inches from having contact. 

“Are you sure it's two? It doesn't feel like it's two. I think we're just on one”

“But-” Peter's voice crack with complete despair which made Tony smile. 

“Just kidding. One more time, can you do that for me?” 

“Yes, yes I can,” Peter nods. Tony waited until Peter relaxed on the table once more before applying more lube onto his hand. 

This time he made sure to have a firm grip on Peters dick as he made the hand motions of going up and down. 

And soon enough Peter was on edge again. 

“S-sir,” Peter starts, mumbling the word over and over as if it's the only thing he can say.    

“Hmm?” 

“I’m close, I’m so close. Can I-?” he was cut off by his own moan. 

Tony didn’t say anything, instead he kept his motions going. Listening to Peters begs and moans, gosh Peter was so sensitive it was amazing.

“Go ahead,” Peter heard Tony say. In a matter of minutes he felt the knot that was in his stomach finally release and all the happy feels starts to rush around him. Tony kept jacking him off as Peter released in his hand. 

Tony leaned down and placed a kiss onto Peters check. “Good job honey” he whispers. 

...

3508 Words

I hope you liked it. I didn't incorporate after care, please don't ask why.

*I know I’m missing tags however idk what they are so please tell me what is missing

#starker #starker nff #nff #peter parker #tony stark #iron man #spiderman #marvel #minors dni

[ashes-and-ashes]

"fuck you" , "fuck me yourself, you coward" with wolfstar please?

Slytherin!Sirius au.

~

He finds Sirius in the hallway, all jet black hair and haughty eyes and that emerald tie slung casually around his neck like some goddamn medal of honour. The curtains were thrown back from the windows, the silvery light from the almost-full moon illuminating everything in narrow slats, streaks of stardust on the blocks of stone.

Remus curses - his ribs still ache from the Changing, pain stabbing through him every time he took a breath. He’s pretty sure the bandages on his back had slipped down as well, the cuts on his skin stinging with every step he took.

“Fuck,” he breathes, softly. The only other way to Gryffindor Tower was using the main staircase - a solid 10 flights of stairs in a dizzying spiral. He imagines it in his head - dragging himself up nearly a hundred flights of stairs, the throbbing in his ribs intensifying with every step, his shoulders aching and back screaming -

Remus grits his teeth, tries not to think about it. With a grimace he turns around, preparing himself for the long hike back up and praying Sirius didn’t see him.

Then again, when were his prayers ever answered? He barely made it five steps before he heard the rustle of fabric and Remus knew Sirius saw him.

Sirius Black, the Slytherin Heir to the Black fortune. He was about as big of a prick as his title would suggest - all cocky arrogance and careless swagger, the type of person who let secrets drop like rain. He remembers first year, eleven years old, walking into the Great Hall and hearing Sirius’ cold voice, the sniggers of his fellow classmates. He’s obviously Muggle born. No pureblood wizard would look that deformed.

Six years. Six years of taunting, of getting shoved into walls and laughed at. Mudblood.

He’s heard stories, of course, all the ones about how he’d mastered the curriculum at eleven and was the youngest and best member on the Slytherin Quidditch team, the long list of conquests he’s had over the six years at Hogwarts.

He’s heard the other stories, too; the ones about the scars on his back and the nights he spent missing from Slytherin dorms.

Remus grits his teeth, hoping Sirius wouldn’t say anything. He stares at the end of the hallway with a sigh - it seemed to stretch out forever, an impossible trek considering the boy in front of him.

He’s not even looking at Sirius but he can still hear the smirk on his voice, that insufferable smirk that made him want to punch him in that perfect face -

“What are you doing so late?”

Remus stiffens, tries to keep the exhaustion off his face. “I could ask you the same question.” He winces - his voice is hoarse from a night of screaming, the metallic tang of blood coating his tongue. Gingerly, he probes at the mess of chewed flesh on his cheek; he must have bitten through when he was Shifting.

Sirius laughs. Even that sounded practiced, Remus thinks - too easy, too smooth.

“I asked first,” Sirius says casually. He’s sitting on the floor against the wall, one leg stretched out in front of him. The moonlight sharpened his features - all high cheekbones and dark hair and the edge of his jaw, the pale skin of his neck disappearing into his robes. Remus’s eyes follow the smooth skin, catching on the edge of a silvery scar curling behind his ear.

Sirius’ smile sharpens. “Seeing something you like, Lupin?”

Remus shoots him a flat look - the same one he gave anyone who asked about his scars. “Are you asking out of genuine interest?”

Sirius doesn’t respond. He stretches out on the floor, arms braced on the wall behind him. Remus sways slightly on his feet; one of the bandages has definitely come loose, the torn edges of his broken skin screaming in protest.

“I should go,” he says. “I need to get to the tower.”

Sirius’ eyebrows fly up, his silver eyes glinting in the moonlight. “You still haven’t told me why you’re up this late.”

Remus doesn’t bother to mask his expression into anything but the annoyance he felt, turning an irratated glare on Sirius’ smirking face. “Well, you haven’t told me shit either. Call it a night and let me sleep, okay?”

“Ah,” Sirius says. He grins, the shadows and the light combining to give an eerie look of a Cheshire Cat. “See, I’m self-destructive - everyone knows that. So it really shouldn’t matter why I’m out so late. You on the other hand - I guess it’s more interesting why Saint Lupin is breaking curfew than why poor old me is.”

“I’m not a saint,” Remus says. Sirius’ grin widens.

“You’re certainly not a devil.”

“Like you?” Remus says, mockingly.

“Now you get it.”

“Please.” Remus rolls his eyes. He’d never been able to have a conversation with Sirius for longer than 5 minutes without getting some sort of blinding headache. “Spare your melodramatic bullshit.”

“Melodramatic - “ Sirius cuts himself off, the humor disappearing from his face so fast Remus glances over his shoulder. “What - “

“You’re hurt,” Sirius says. It wasn’t a question.

“I’m not - “ Remus starts but Siruus ignores him. He pushes himself up off the ground - his hand is on Remus’ shoulder, thumb digging into the tear there and Remus just barely manages to swallow down his scream.

“Fuck,” he hisses - Sirius face is curiously blank. “What the fuck was that for - “

Sirius’ hand is at his robes in an instant and Remus wasn’t fast enough to stop him from yanking the soft fabric off his shoulders, the cool night air washing over his skin. He’s wearing his shirt underneath (Thank God, he thinks) but he can tell from the dampness on his spine that a lot of blood must have leaked through.

Sirius’ hand brushes over the deepest of the gashes on his front and this time Remus can’t stop the choked noise he makes. Sirius’ face is still empty; Remus stares at the purpling bruises on his arms and tries to get his pounding heart under control.

He bends to retrieve his fallen cloak and regrets it - the movement makes the wounds on his back tear even more and he muffles his groan with his hand. Sirius is there in a heartbeat, his knuckles white where he gripped the fabric, hard enough that Remus thought it might tear, one hand still pressed against the cut on Remus’ stomach.

“Who did this?” Sirius asks, his tone deadly calm. Remus notices the slight tremble in his hands and forces himself to step backwards away from Sirius’ warm touch.

“None of your business,” he replies shortly.

Sirius lets out a startled laugh, cracking at the edges. “None of my - “ he begins, then cuts himself off. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“I’m not, actually.”

Sirius traces the lines of blood spreading across Remus’ back, his eyes hollow and so far away. “Tell me,” he says, his voice soft.

Remus swallows. Irrational anger surges through him, at Sirius, acting like a goddamn saint as if he wasn’t a fucking asshole -

“What do you care?” he says, voice cutting.

Sirius blinks, and Remus can practically see the walls snapping down in his eyes. “Do I need to have a reason?”

Remus grits his teeth. “Who hurt you, Sirius?”

Sirius flinches back as if Remus had physically struck him, a mixture of shock and terror and anger warring over his face. The emotion is gone in an instant; Sirius’ face goes dead, as if he had shoved his feelings deep inside of him, something slicing and cutting up his insides.

“How did you know?” he asks.

Remus forces a bitter laugh. “I’ve seen scars. Yours are intentional. Someone’s out too much effort into making them hurt.”

“No one - “

Remus scoffs. “Straight lines and smooth edges? Perfectly round burn scars?”

“When have you seen - “

“We’ve both been here six years, Sirius. Guess we’re both deformed after all.”

Sirius blinks. “Fuck you.”

“Fuck me yourself, coward,” Remus spits.

Sirius just smirks. “Maybe I will.”

“I’m sure your mother will be proud of you.”

Sirius flinches back, and somewhere Remus winces at how easy it was to hurt him. He can’t bring himself to care - he’s tired and in pain and full of burning, irrational rage.

“Let me go,” he says, snatching his ribs from Sirius’ shaking hands, turning and limping down the corridor.

It’s only when he’s in bed later that night does he realize that he’s never met another person as scarred as he was.

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