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#JESUS FUCKING CHRIST THIS TOOK ME TWO HOURS
a66-1 · 3 days
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yo what about grumpy simon meets somehow grumpier reader !! maybe at a pub with the lads and she’s with her girls!! just two intimidating idiots <3
Yes!! this is so me as a human lmao..
Grumpy!Simon x Grumpy!Reader
a/n: yay!! second ask!! sorry it took so long, writers block and finals are kicking my ass rn.
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You take a seat at the crowded pub, grumbling into a glass of wine. You've downed two drinks in, what, a couple minutes? Christ, how you're friends have more self control than you blows your mind.
Your friends sit around you, sipping from an assortment of drinks, laughing and talking about. Being the quiet friend definitely has its perks when your friend group is chatty, you get all the tea.
Danny's boyfriend cheated. Again.
Lauren's family is arguing two months too early already for the holidays.
Kadence's dogs are being the death of her and her small apartment.
You were never one to drop how you feel to your whole friend group, or even share more than what happened a couple hours ago. I mean, that's already too much information.
A natural grump. The grinch, Lauren called you. I mean come on, not to be one of those guys, but, your smile is so pretty!
You stand to excuse yourself, to grab another drink. I mean, technically, you should be getting water, but another bourbon sounds real fucking nice..
"Hey can I get..." You trail off when you notice a tall man come up next to you, and order exactly what you were ordering. Rude.
"Bourbon. On the rocks." The guy muttered, throwing down cash to pay for the drink. I rolled my eyes and glanced to the bartender.
"Bourbon too, please. On the rocks." You gave the guy a snide look, and sat down to wait for your drink. The guy cranes his neck up to watch whatever football game was going on, enamored with a bunch of men getting handsy on a flagged play.
"You could've been nicer and waited your turn, asshat." You grumbled, sorta for yourself, and a little for him. He chuckled, turning.
"Me? An asshat? Okay, Ms. I'm-Nice-To-Everyone, get some balls." He shrugged you off, and kept his eyes glued to the TV.
"I didn't say- Jesus, you're a fucking grump." You scoff, before realizing you sound just like Lauren right now.. The guy huffs, and turns to you, and lowers his head to be level with yours.
"I'm the grump? You're the one groveling over a little shove." He rolled his eyes. You mutter under your breath and move a seat away, waiting for your drink with a hand under your chin. You grab you drink when it came, and you moved back to your table.
"Lauren?" You mumble, sipping your drink. She curiously turns to you.
"Yeah?"
"Am I an asshole?" You ask, shoulders slumping.
Lauren stifles a laugh, and nods slightly. "When you're in one of your moods, yeah. Why?"
You groan, rubbing your eyes. "I think I met my match.."
anndddd yeah. a little dabble. inspo has been down. Please request more!
thanks babes...
-a661
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scoonsalicious · 2 days
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Unwanted: Chapter 25, Unprotected - Pt. 4
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, medical procedures, Pocket getting called out on her shit, deep discussions, mentions of drug use and anonymous sex.
Word Count: 2.7k
Previously On...: You woke up in the hospital to some quite... surprising news.
A/N: LET THE HEALING SORT OF BEGIN! I AM READY FOR IT.
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43
Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc
A few hours later, you were discharged with antibiotics to stave off any potential infection and over-the counter iron tablets to help replenish all the blood you’d lost. The car ride back to the safehouse was awkward in its heavy silence, the only words spoken between you and Bucky were when you asked to stop at the local pharmacy to buy out their stock of hydrogen peroxide. You’d need to tackle those blood stains in your bedroom before they had time to fully set.
As you walked in the door to the apartment, Bucky on your heels, you took in the space as he would be seeing it for the very first time– it was an absolute mess, with clothes strewn about, fast food wrappers and empty liquor bottles littering every available surface. You watched his eyes as they raked over the mess, pausing to linger on the empty condom wrappers your last Bad Decision had left on the coffee table, next to the remnants of the coke you two had done.
“What the fuck is this?” he asked. “Did someone break in and trash the place while you were in the hospital?”
You grabbed a discarded bra from the back of an armchair, where Bad Decision #... something, had tossed it in his hurry to get at you. “Wasn’t exactly expecting company,” you grumbled defensively. 
Bucky laughed nervously. “What, so you’ve just been having random sex and getting drunk everyday?” The look he gave you was desperate, as though begging you to contradict him, to tell him it was all some sort of joke you were playing on him, but you just stood there in silence, not meeting his eyes.
“Jesus Christ, Pocket, this isn’t you,” Bucky exhaled. “None of this is who you are. What have you been doing  to yourself?”
“No,” you scoffed, “this is who you made me, Barnes. So, if you have a problem with what I’ve become, you’ve only got yourself to blame.” You opened your arms wide to encompass the entire apartment, and by extension, the evidence of your downward spiral. “Welcome to the consequences of your own actions!”
“Fuck.” Bucky ran a tired hand down his face after a moment of stunned silence. “I did do this to you, didn’t I? God, I’m so sorry, Pocket. If I could take it back, I would. I know that’s just more empty words, and you’re probably sick of hearing them, but it’s the truth. Hurting you is the biggest regret of my life.”
“Yet, you keep doing it,” you said, sighing heavily. You flopped down on the couch, exhausted and sore. The nurse had warned you there’d be residual cramping, and had insisted that regular ibuprofen would take care of it, but you’d already had six-hundred milligrams and were still aching. You wondered briefly if you had any oxy left from the club, but decided that getting high in front of Bucky was probably not the smartest move you could make right now, so you opted to deal.
Bucky walked over and made a move like he was about to sit down next to you, but something caught his eye. Bending over, he ran a finger through the white powder residue on the coffee table, bringing it to his tongue to taste.
“Shit,” he said, making a face. “Pocket, is this cocaine?!”
“What are you, McGruff the Crime Dog?” you asked sarcastically, before realizing the reference was probably completely wasted on him. He just continued to stare at you expectantly. “So what if it is?” You asked with a shrug. 
“Since when do you do coke?” Bucky asked incredulously. You really didn’t like the way he was looking at you at the moment. Like he had opened the fridge, looking for a carton of milk, but instead found a giraffe in a three-piece suit.
“Since I ran out of oxy,” you said nonchalantly. “And molly.”
A change came over Bucky’s features, and you watched them go hard, judging. “You’ve been doing all this– the drinking, the drugs, sleeping around with god knows who, while you’ve been pregnant?! What? It wasn’t enough to kill our baby, you had to try to kill yourself in the process? Do you know how absolutely fucking stupid you’re being?!” He was shouting at you now, the anger he’d been holding at bay since the hospital coming out in full force. 
You stood back up, taking in a shuddering breath. You hadn’t expected him to blow up at you so unexpectedly. “I didn’t know,” you said softly, voice trembling. “I didn’t know I was pregnant.”
“Would it have made a fucking difference?” he roared. “You already admitted you would have aborted it if you had known! Can you honestly say you wouldn’t have risked the baby’s health– your health– even if you did know?”
You didn’t have an answer to that. “I don’t know,” you whispered.
“Pocket,” the anger seemed to leave Bucky almost as quickly as it had come, “if you hadn’t gotten medical attention right when you did, you could have died. You could have bled out, gone into septic shock. This miscarriage could have fucking killed you. Do you know what that would have done to me? To Sam and Steve? Nat, Wanda, Pepper? What it would have done to fucking Tony?” You were hit with a sudden wave of guilt. In your spiral, you hadn’t considered for a moment what your actions would have meant to the people who loved you. You only cared about forgetting your own pain. 
“When you were getting dressed to come home, I asked the nurse what could have caused the miscarriage. One of the things she mentioned was heavy drug use, but I didn’t pay it any attention. I thought ‘no, not my Pocket, she’s too smart to do something so incredibly dumb; has to be something else.’ But here you are, throwing your entire life away. And for what? Some cheap thrills? And now, you’ve gone and lost a baby and you don’t even care!”
It was too much. His words were getting to be too much, and you were dangerously close to losing it. “Of course I fucking care!” you sobbed, the damn breaking and setting free a flood of tears you’d been pretending weren’t just waiting to spill. “I had our baby– ours, yours and mine– and I fucking lost it because I needed to forget how much pain I was in! How much you fucking made me hurt! It’s been almost two months and I still want to die when I think about you with her. I want to fucking die.”
Bucky’s arms were around you as you collapsed into him, gasping for air between choking sobs. “I close my eyes, and it’s all I can see,” you wailed. “I’ve fucked so many men trying to forget about you, to feel anything besides despair, but all they do is remind me of what I’m missing, what I lost. All the drinking, the drugs, all the sex– I just wanted to forget, to have a few minutes where I could pretend my life wasn’t ruined, that the best thing I ever had hadn’t been stolen away from me!”
Bucky held you tighter, rubbing soothing patterns into your back in an attempt to calm you. “And I just keep losing,” you cried. “I lost you, I lost our baby, I lost Chloe.”
If Bucky wondered who Chloe was, he knew it wasn’t the right time to ask. “Hey,” he said, tilting your chin up so you were looking at him and wiping the tears from your cheeks, “you haven’t lost me. I’m still right here. I know I fucked up. I don’t expect you to forgive me; I don’t deserve it, but I’m always going to be here, no matter what. And, okay, you lost this baby. But that doesn’t mean you won’t have a chance for another.”
“I don’t want someone else’s baby,” you told him, wiping at the tears that just wouldn’t stop coming, and choosing to completely ignore the fact that you’d lost him in every way that actually mattered. “This was the only chance for our baby, and I destroyed it! It’s the universe’s way of telling me I’m not supposed to be a mother.”
“Why the fuck would you think that?” Bucky asked accusingly. “What makes you think you wouldn’t be an amazing mom?”
You let out a hard laugh through your tears. “What the fuck do I know about being a mother?” you asked him bitterly. “It’s not like I had a shining example of one growing up. All I know how to do is push people away. To make them not love me.” That was the sick truth, your exhausted brain and broken heart were telling you in the moment: your biological father, your mother, Bucky. All of them had turned from you, had pulled their love at the first opportunity. A logical part of your brain would have known this wasn’t the case, and that you had so many more people who did love you, but you weren’t running on logic right now.
“Stop,” Bucky begged, voice cracking. “That’s not true. Sweetheart, that’s not true. You are so damn easy to love, I fell for you immediately. I know you don’t believe it, but I never stopped loving you. I’m never gonna stop loving you.”
“Then why, Bucky?” you cried, clinging to him, desperate for an answer that made sense. “Why did you do this to me?”
Bucky pulled you down onto the couch with him, cradling you in his lap. He gently rocked you back and forth. “Because I’m broken, sweets. I’m broken, and I’m stupid, and I let my anger get the best of me. I was so convinced that you were too good for me, that I didn’t deserve you, that I sabotaged us to prove myself right. But none of that is worth seeing you like this. None of that was worth putting you through all the hurt I did. And I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. Nothing I say can undo it. Nothing I do is gonna change what happened, fix the damage I did to you. All I can do is show you that it’s never gonna happen again, whether or not you ever end up forgivin’ me. There’s never gonna be another girl for me, and if you never want me again, that’s okay; I’ll understand. I deserve it and I’ll learn to live with it, but it’s not gonna change how I feel. You’ll be the last girl I’ll ever make love to, even if you decide you never wanna give me another chance.”
You weren’t sure what to say to that. Simply because you weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to give him another chance. But that reminded you– there was something you wanted to address with him.
“I’m sorry,” you told him softly. 
Bucky narrowed his eyes at you with a tilt of his head. “What are you sorry about, doll? I’m the one who should be spending the rest of their life apologizin’ to you.”
You turned away from him. “I’m sorry about what Hydra did to you,” you said. When he didn’t say anything, you went on: “I, uh, asked Sam,” you continued. “About what you’d told me with the sparring and how you get… excited.” You felt him still beneath you, but didn’t want to lose your nerve. “I’m sorry that I doubted that they put you through that kind of abuse, and I’m so sorry it happened to you. And… I’m– I’m sorry I didn’t make you feel like I was a safe person you could share that part of your past with.”
Bucky let out an agonizingly slow breath. “Sweets,” he began, “it was never about feeling like you weren’t a safe place for me to be open about it. Not once.”
You took in a shuddering breath, hating that you were making this moment, in a way, about you. “But… you told Steve, and Sam and– and… her. But you didn’t tell me.” You risked a glance at him, afraid he was going to be angry at you, but all you saw was patience in his eyes. “I must have said or done something that made you feel like you couldn’t share it with me, and whatever that was, I’m sorry.”
Bucky shook his head sadly and rubbed his human hand up and down your back. “No, baby.” He exhaled. “It was never like that. I didn’t tell you, because I was ashamed.”
You raised your eyes and gave him a questioning look.
“I could tell Sam, and Steve, and even Carthage, because I didn’t give a shit if they thought I was… fucked up… sexually. It didn’t matter what they thought about it, because, well, I wasn’t trying to impress them, to make them want me, want to be with me. But you?” He brought his vibranium hand up to cup your face, turning it so you were looking at him. “I didn’t want you lookin’ at me and thinkin’ that I was broken, that I didn’t… didn’t work right in the way I wanted you the most. I’d never be able to stand it. I was just so ashamed and embarrassed; and I couldn’t stand the thought of you lookin’ at me the way I looked at myself.”
“Barnes,” you offered with a small, small smile, “I have never, not once, even considered you were broken, sexually. Not before I found out, and certainly not after. In fact, I’ve spent the last two months desperately trying to make myself forget just how not fucked up you are in that department.”
Bucky cleared his throat. “Just, uh, outta curiosity, sweets, how many attempts at forgetting are we talking about here?”
You scrunched up your mouth. “You seriously want to know how many guys I’ve fucked since we broke up, Barnes?”
Bucky shrugged his shoulders in a completely failed attempt at seeming nonchalant. “Like I said, just curious. What are we talking… like, two? Three?”
You snorted. Multiply that by ten, you thought. “You really don’t want to know, Barnes. Trust me.”
“Jesus Christ,” he moaned. “More than three?!”
You shrugged awkwardly. “It’s really not any of your business, Bucky.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck,” he said. “Yeah, yeah, I know it’s not. I just can’t stand the fucking thought of someone else putting their hands on you,” he said through clenched teeth. 
You raised a brow and gave him a sarcastic look. “Hypocrite much?” you asked, though there was no bite behind your words. 
Bucky lowered his head, not meeting your gaze. “Givin’ me a taste of my own medicine, huh, doll? Well, can’t say it’s not fucking bitter, or that I don’t deserve it.”
“I didn’t do it with the purpose of hurting you,” you told him, feeling your tears start to build again. “I did it to get over you. To forget you.”
He brushed a tear from your lashes. “Did it work, doll?” he asked, voice low. “Did you forget? Are you over it?”
You hadn’t. Of course you fucking hadn’t. But you didn’t want him knowing that. Not fully; it was enough though, knowing that he’d felt even a fraction of the jealousy you’d felt. “Hard to say,” you told him, instead. “Maybe the twenty-ninth time’ll be the charm.”
Bucky spluttered and gasped for breath. “TWENTY-NINTH TIME?!? Are you telling me you’ve fucked twenty-eight pieces of shit since you’ve been down here?!” Almost as soon as his frustration burst from him itself, it had died out. “Not my business,” he said, though you could tell he was struggling. 
You’d had enough tormenting him for the night, so you snuggled further into his chest. “Not a single one of them made me forget for a second,” you told him, tilting your head up to look into his eyes. Bucky chuffed and leaned down to kiss the top of your head, and for the first time in months, you felt a hint of the safety you used to feel with him. It was small, but it was there, a tiny ember in a fire you’d feared had long died out. With a rattling sigh, you rested your head against his chest as he continued to rock you, and soon, you were lulled asleep to the sound of his steady, familiar, beloved heartbeat.
<- Previous Part / Next Chapter ->
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leo-bandito · 2 months
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something something gman tommy something something gordon in stasis. you know how it is.
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releasedfromthedream · 9 months
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made devil's food cake and i think my arms are fr about to fall off
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ohhhhhhhhhh my goddddddddd and now the fucking t*ble t*nnis guy is passive aggressively up my ass : \
#work stuff#silver jelly#'i've noticed editing has slowed down...' first of all ;;; i was editing the 3.5k words of incomprehensible nonsense because you all#won't hire real writers for almost TWO HOURS on friday. i skipped Yesterday. you sent that message at 10 AM when i HAD one of those#fucking awful awful articles on my roster for today. so that's what;;;; 1 work day unaccounted for? fuck off#secondly; you assholes REFUSE to tell me how much you're expecting from me; you just fucking yell at us when we're not going#'fast enough' when you WON'T EVEN TELL ME WHAT THAT MEANS#this is an internal fucking site and we have REAL clients with REAL ACTUAL deadlines ;;; this is not !!!!!!!!!!!!!! a priority to me!!!!!!!#thirdly; ;;;; i took this project AS A FAVOR to someone who's on maternity leave. i did not even want it. she fucking told me 'ohhh you're#the only one i trust' when there's ... literally ;;; another editor on this who is her best friend from childhood or whatever .#like manipulating me; basically; into taking this project (and she didn't even need to; i wanted the hours anyway)#STILL; ;;; it's not something i picked; it's not something i even particularly wanted to do !!!!!#and it's endless shit;; every god damn week it's some version of 'is everything okay? you're slowing down?' like yeah bro i got other work!#jesus fucking CHRIST i just cannot !!!!!#i sent a message in the chat i straight up said 'i try to do one of these a day but i don't feel like it's enough so please tell me what#your expectations are' and if he dodges i'm saying 'an approximate number would be really helpful' like fuck dude i don't CARE if#you tell me you need 10 of these by the end of the week -- i can maybe even make that happen but this isn't fucking working !!!!#@god please get me out of here holy shit .
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eddiesxangel · 5 months
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Redemption| Eddie Munson x Reader
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Summary: Eddie is forced to work community hours for a petty crime at a retirement home; what he didn’t expect was the pretty girl at the front desk, you. This is so self-indulgent don't come for me
Word count: 3.8k
Cw: mutual pining, male masturbation, Perv!Eddie, Dom!Eddie/ Sub!reader, unprotected sex, corruption kink? breeding kink, sex at work. (Briefly proofread)
An: after 85 years I finally got around to finishing this! It’s not where I thought it would go originally bc it was just suppose to be a fluff piece but the horny gremlin took over
Boredom wasn't even a way to describe how you were feeling. The phones were dead, the day had been dragging on, and it was not even 12:00pm. The residents of the home were also not doing you any favours. Having to repeat yourself about six times in a row at the top of your lungs was starting to get old; your day had just not been going the way you wanted. Any other day, you'd be happy to help, happy to repeat yourself, but today was not one of those days. You were irritated and annoyed; your work bestie was off today, so you couldn't even complain to her about your shit day.
 A sigh of relief fills you when the phone rings, a rare occasion, but today has been so slow you were begging for something to do.
 "Sunny Acres Retirement Home! How may I help you?"  your customer service voice was overly sweet, too sweet. However you can't seem to turn it off, being the people pleaser that you are. 
"Jesus Christ'' You hear mumbled from the other end of the line. 
"Hello? How can I help you?" you roll your eyes, having to repeat yourself, but keep up the chipper act.
 "Yeah, listen, I was assigned to do community hours at this place, and I need to talk to a manager." Damn, this guy had an attitude. 
"Yeah! Sure thing. Can I get your name, please?"
 "Seriously?" 
What the fuck crawled up this guy's ass?
"It's company policy, Sir." You rolled your eyes again, not wanting to deal with more bullshit.
"Eddie"  
"One moment, Eddie, I'll transfer your call." You put him on hold and transferred him to the manager with a good luck warning. 
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The next day, you were in much better spirits; your work bestie was with you, it was casual Friday, and you were allowed to wear jeans instead of business casual attire.
It was around 1:00pm when you saw Chief Hopper walk in accompanied by someone you had not recognized. 
"Hey Hopps," you greet him with a smile.
"Hey, you." He said with a smile.
You and Chief Hopper had a friendly relationship because you're close friends with his girlfriend's oldest, Jonathan.  
"To what do we owe the pleasure?"
"Brought in another delinquent for you to roughhouse into shape" he steps out of the way.
Your giggle dies as you lock eyes with the prettiest boy you've ever seen. 
"This is Edward; he is here to complete two hundred hours of community service, and he will be starting today."
"It's Eddie," you hear him mumble under his breath. 
Oh so this is the jackass you spoke to on the phone yesterday... a really cute jackass.
He looked to be around your age, but you didn't recognize him. You'd only been in town since the second half of senior year, hating your parents for making your move to a new school so close to graduating. You have been in Hawkins  six years now you're here working 9-5 as a receptionist at Sunny Acres Retirement Home.
"Nice to meet you, Eddie." You introduce yourself and proceed to call the manager to let her know he is here. Once Hopper leaves and your manager shows him around, you immediately call your best friend, Robin's, extension.
"Get over here now! We have a code, hottie," you whisper into the phone. Whenever you see a cute person enter the building, whether it be adult grandchildren, paramedics, or firefighters, you always let one another know when there is one on the premises. No less than two minutes later, she approaches your desk.
"Where are they?"
" There," you point to the dining room directly across from your desk as he is being given a tour of the building.
"Eddie Munson?!" she half yells before covering her mouth. 
"You know him?" you ask excitedly.
"Know him? He's the town freak," she scoffs.
"I'm sure he is a freak, alright?" You wiggle your brows at her." 
"I'm serious! He's bad news." 
"Clearly, he is doing community service hours." 
"Seriously? That is what you're into?" she giggles.
"I don't know? There is something about him?" You bite your lip as you check him out from afar. He turns back to walk towards you, and you quickly look away, not wanting to be caught.
You've always been into bad boys, but your golden retriever, good girl image, always scared them away.
Eddie notices you staring at him because you're not very subtle.  He isn't mad that he caught you staring because he felt that you were checking him out rather than judging him. Unlike your co-worker standing beside you...
Just his luck, he recognized Robin from high school. She was always neutral towards him and didn't say much, but he knew how the people in this town operated. She would turn you against him in no time.
"Buckley." He nodded.
"Munson," she mimicked back.
You watched the scene play out, hoping she would introduce you. Wrong. She goes straight in for the kill.
"My friend thinks you're cute." She points her thumb at you, and you immediately slap her shoulder as a gut reaction.
"Robin?!" you scold her. Mortified about what she admitted to him just to break an awkward silence, you feel like you want the ground to swallow you whole. 
Eddie gives you a cocky smirk before the manager comes back to continue with the tour. 
"Why do you hate me? Did I do something?  Are you punishing me?" you whine. 
"You know I just blurt out things when I get uncomfortable!" 
All you can do is roll your eyes, you loved the girl, but she could be really dense. 
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Eddie couldn't stop thinking about your brief interaction all night. Was Robin telling the truth? Did you really think he was cute? Or was she teasing? He hoped that she had grown up since high school and was telling the truth because he also thought you were cute, like really, really cute. He hadn't seen you before, and Hawkins was a small town; he must have known you from somewhere? He wraps his brain around any memories of your face, but he comes up empty. He had to find out more about you. He needed to know you. Something about you infatuated him so much. He thought about how your body looked in the adorable outfit you had on. He thought about what was under the outfit to... Maybe being forced to volunteer his time at Sunny Acres wouldn't be the worst thing that happened to him after all...
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The next day, you were assigned to show Eddie some of the duties he was to do for the residents. Talk to them, run bingo, help them with their phone if the line was giving them any trouble, or their TV if they put in the wrong input, serve them beverages, and get to know them and keep them company. A lot of them don't have families or anyone to come visit them. The staff are their family. That was the main reason you stayed at this job for so long. 
Eddie was quiet the whole orientation. The tension from yesterday was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Small talk was not your strong suit; you dreaded it, but you also really wanted to talk with Eddie, so you went for it.
"So what did they book you for? Steal candy from a kid on the playground?" trying to make light of the situation. 
"Murder," he deadpans to you.
"Ha ha. Nice try. They don't give community hours to murderers." you couldn't keep your eyes on the task in front of you.
He was dead silent, but you could feel his eyes burning into you.
"Okay, don't tell me; I'll just keep guessing until you do." you gave a cheeky smile, trying to lighten the mood. 
Another eye roll was shot your way, but you swore you saw a glint of something behind those eyes. 
"So what was it? Trespassing? Vandalism? shoplifting? Public intoxication? Speeding?" you raise a brow at him.
 Eddie just smirked and shook his head as you interrogated him. Your bubbly personality was nothing compared to his. He noticed how you would light up the room when you walked in. The residents of the home adored you, and he could see why. You were one of the prettiest girls he had ever seen; your eyes sparkled, and he loved how you styled yourself. He wasn't used to being so infatuated by someone so cutesy. He noticed you wore a lot of pink and has yet to see you in anything black. He thought of what you would look like with black underwear... then he snapped back out of his thoughts. He tried to think of something less sexy, but as he was trying to do so, your top slipped down when you went to reach for the deck of cards across from you. He caught a glimpse of the frilly light yellow bra you had on under your top.
Eddie noticed the room was getting hotter, or was that just him? You made him nervous; he didn't want to embarrass himself in front of you more than he already has. He felt shame that we had to be waltzed in here by the chief of police, never mind what offence he committed. So he stayed quiet, not wanting the next thing to come out of his mouth to be offensive or crass. So he kept quiet, not saying anything or indulging in the conversation more than he had to.
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Another week went by, and you still hardly spoke to Eddie. Work was unbelievably slow yet again. you thought that would give you a chance to speak with Eddie, but you hardly had time to see him because the residents kept hogging him. That was until your manager asked for you to help with the Bingo because everyone decided to show up today. Eddie was in charge of rolling and placing, and you were in charge of announcing and checking.
This was it, this was your chance to speak to him...
"How do you like it here so far?"
"It's fine I guess." He mumbled. 
"Everyone really loves you." You smiled.  
Eddie gave you a look that said what the fuck?
“No really! … Do you not like it here?” What you were really asking was do you not like being around me?
"Don't you get it? How can I serve these snotty rich people when all they do is look down on someone like me?"
"Eddie, are you blind? The residents love you." 
Eddie scoffs at your confession. "I'm serious! When you are gone, Pat always asks where you are! And Linda always refers to you as her boyfriend, and I overheard Martha and June arguing over who got to braid your hair next. You're a real ladies' man around here," You giggle. 
"A ladies man you say?" his mood slowly changes as he smirks at you. That made you blush, the heat rose to your cheeks as you looked away bashfully. He was just so pretty… and the way he looked at you like how he is now is making you so shy.
"Yeah, I'm kinda jealous of Linda, if I'm honest." You flirt. You feel like your stomach was in your ass by the time you finished the sentence.
-
"What's the next number! come on!" Bob yelled from the table. You had completely forgotten about the game.
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Small glances were stolen throughout the following weeks.  You would feel the heat rise to your cheeks every time he caught you, and you couldn't tell if he found it endearing or annoying. You never got a response out of Eddie after your admission to being jealous over an eighty-three-year-old.
Eddie definitely thought it was endearing and he can't seem to get you out of his head. He would think about you when he was alone in his room at night. He would think about how you always smelled like marshmallows, how your hair looked so cute with the little bow you put in it occasionally, or how you tease him by wearing those short skirts with stockings underneath. He knew you were teasing him. Everyone else bought the Goodie Two Shoes act, but not Eddie. He saw right through it, and he was fed up. He felt like if he didn't have you, he would actually explode.
Eddie had been watching you from afar this whole time. He would sneak around your desk, finding things he could take home with him as a keepsake. Like little doodles you would leave out, or the pen you were using, or your lip balm. The best was when you left your purse out, and he got a chance to take the travel-size perfume that was lying there on top of everything. There was a reason he got booked for defacing public property and not theft. Theft he was good at.
Eddie sprayed his pillow with your perfume and then used your lip balm that smelled and tasted like strawberries, fuck, everything about you was so sweet: your personality, looks and smell, even your fucking lip balm. He thought about how his lips were touching the thing that touched yours as he applied it to his own, and his dick got hard. Then he thought about how your strawberry lips would look around his hard cock.
You were taking over Eddie's senses as he began to tug at his cock. He thought about how he would love to flip up your skirt and fucking you in one of the empty rooms. His imagination ran wild. He thought about your voice, how your tits would look bouncing in that frilly yellow bra he got a peek at. He wanted you in every position, especially under him. He knew you would be the perfect little sub for him. He needed you to be; he was so close to cumming. He thought about you crying from how much you needed his cock to fill you. He thought about how good you would look and feel swallowing his cock. He needed to take what he thought, no needed to believe, was your virgin pussy.
Eddie came so hard that night, the first night he indulged in his fantasies of you with your smell lingering in the air of his room. The mix of your sent with his was too much. He needed you, and he would do anything to try and get you.
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"Ok, I can't take this anymore, you need to talk to him." Robin shook her head. 
"And say what?" 
"Yo Munson, come here!" 
"Robin!" You scolded.  
As Eddie approached, you felt your heart rate go up; you could hear the blood pumping in your ears. What on earth was she going to say now? 
"Okay, I can't take watching you two dance around one another any longer." "She thinks you're cute. Okay..." Robin gestured to you. "Do you think she is cute?"
Eddie didn’t say anything, he just slowly nodded his head.
The tension broke when the shrill of phone ring broke you out of your trance and shook you a little. You just stared at the phone and Robin butted in.
“I’ll take it, you take your lunch” she gave you a wink and you looked to Eddie.
“I could eat.” and he wasn't talking about the chicken they were serving for lunch.
You felt your stomach do a flip-flip; you heard the insinuation in his tone.
"Um, uh- yeah. Okay." You cleared your throat and went to find an empty room for some privacy.
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You guided Eddie up to the eighth floor. There were a lot of vacant rooms up there, and hardly anyone went in the west wing since no one was living there yet. The elevator ride up was silent; you felt an awkwardness, like Eddie was looking into your soul even though he wasn't even looking at you... The elevator dinged, and Eddie let you step out first, guiding him to the privacy he yearned for.
809 Eddie read on the door as you fumbled with the lock and key. Finally, you opened the lock and guided him inside. The room was completely empty; it echoed a little as your footsteps filled it.
"So..." You started but Eddie had no time for talking. He wanted you and he wanted you now.
Eddie surprised you by cupping your face and kissing you passionately. No one had ever kissed you like this before; it was strong and hard but also careful.
"You have no idea what you do to me, sweetheart." He spoke into your mouth. The kissing got more and more sensual. You ran your hands up his middle before you knew what was happening he quickly turned you around and pressed you up against the wall.
"You think it's cute? Teasing me for weeks with your sweet little outfits?" Eddie's hand was wrapped around your mouth to keep you quiet as his fingers explored you meat of your ass.
"Mmmmmph" You were so scared someone would find you in the empty suite, but it also turned you on more than expected.
"What was that sweetheart? I didn't quite catch that?" His fingers found the waistband of your stockings and pulled them and your panties down with one swift motion. His hand loosened its grip on your jaw so you could speak.
"N-no," You whimpered. This was turning you on way more than it should. You thought you would come up here to talk; maybe he would ask you out on a date. You never thought you would be fucking!
"I don't believe you."
You felt your skirt flipped up and a cool breeze on your wet pussy.
"Tell me, sweetheart, has anyone ever filled this pussy?" Eddie asked as he ran a single finger through your wet folds.
"Yes," You admit shakily. You gripped Eddie's wrist of the hand that was clamped around your throat.
Eddie can't say he was surprised that you’ve had men before him. You were beautiful, smart, funny, adorable. It's too bad you had to be with them before he got a taste.
"What a shame you've had to suffer through that before meeting me, babydoll."
"Why is that?" you ask bravely.
Eddie chuckled darkly... "Because baby, I'm about to ruin you for all men."
That made you gulp. You can't believe you were about to fuck your crush in the middle of the work day. You didn't do stuff like this! you were a good girl, a rule follower.
Before you could think anymore about the consequences, Eddie, he slipped his throbbing cock into your needy pussy.
"Holy fuck!" You screamed, and Eddie's hand clamped back down over your mouth to keep you quiet.
Just when Eddie didn't think you could get any hotter, the curse word you let slip from your mouth made his cock twitch inside of you.
"Fuck me, you stretch me out so good," You whine, and Eddie thinks he will bust a nut right then and there. His perfect little angel had the mouth of a whore.
"Yes, you like that, don't you, you dirty little slut." Eddie jerked his hips up into you. It was sharp and hard and hit that delicious spot inside you each time. “You wanna be my good girl? Or my bad girl?”
“Good- oh fuck- good girl. I want to be your good girl!”
“That shut the fuck up and take it like I know you can”
"oh my god, you're so big." Your eyes rolled back into your head as he became more controlled with his rhythm. His hands gripped your hip, and he wrapped his hand in your hair, yanking your head back like he was riding you.
The view Eddie had was your ass bounced off his cock was making his head spin. He knew you would hand a perfect pussy. It was his now and only his.
"This pussy is mine now, understand? Im going to fill this pussy so good you won't know what to do for days. The only thing you're going to be thinking of is me and my fat cock."
All you could do was moan in response. "Yea you like that you dirty little whore. You like that I own this pussy now…” Eddie slowed down, he rolled his hips slowly into your pussy and he swore he saw the light “You have everyone convinced you're a goodgirl but all you are is a cumslut. Tell me how much you want my cum coating your walls"
"I want it so bad!" you cried.
You've never had a dick like this before. Eddie was right, he's ruined you for all men and he hadn't even made you cum... yet. You had full faith that he was able to do so because you could feel it. The warm fuzzy feeling was bubbling up in your core. Eddie had picked up the pace at your omission, and fuck if he wasn’t hitting your g spot with each delicious stroke of his cock hitting your walls.
"Fuck I'm going to cum!" You scream, all caution thrown to the wind, you'd forgotten where you were. The only thing you could think of was Eddie and his delicious cock.
"Fuck yes, babydoll. Come on this cock." Eddie's hand let go of your hair and wrapped it around your throat, pulling you flush to his body.
"More" You whisper.
"Greedy greedy girl."
"Please" You begged. You needed him to touch you.
"There is my good girl." His hand that had gripped your hip slid down and started playing with your swollen clit and your legs almost gave out.
"Next time, I'm keeping my word, and I'm going to eat this pretty little pussy." Eddie growled.
That did it for you; your inner walls squeezed, and you felt your orgasm rush through you. Eddie trusted in you as your body convulsed around him.
"Fuck you're so fucking tight," Eddie grits through his teeth, and he fights off his impending orgasm. He doesn't want this moment to end, he wants it to last forever. What if this is the last chance he has to feel your pussy wrapped around him?
"Please, Eddie, I want your cum! I want your cum so fucking bad, my pussy needs it."
That did it for Eddie, he let go and his hot seed was being shot into you with a roar.
After minutes of silence and heavy breathing, Eddie bent down and pulled up your panties and stockings for you, trapping his cum with it. You turn slowly, afraid to look him in the eyes, but Eddie doesn't allow it. He brings your cin up, guiding your eyes to look into his.
"Don't shy away from me now, babydoll. You're going to go back down to the lobby and finish the rest of your work day knowing my cum is going to be seeping through your pretty little panties, ok?" He ordered, and you dumbly nodded your head, still fucked out by the amazing dick you just received.
"Good girl" Eddie patted your ass, and you walked to the elevator with wobbly legs. Eddie laughed and held you stand straight before letting go before you reached the first floor.
You returned from your break fifteen minutes later than allotted, but Robin covered for you. You couldn't even look her in the eyes, and she knew you got freaky with the freak of Hawkins.
2K notes · View notes
bigfatbimbo · 2 months
Note
Soooo.. You have Girldick Lute, Boycunt Lucifer but what if we had Boycunt Vox? Since he can switch his head with newer models, what if he could do that with his dick too?
-Chronically online
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a/n — SHUT YOUR FACE. I don’t care that this probably isn’t plausible just don’t think too hard about it and it’s hot as fuck. Anyways… boypussy.
warnings — boycunt, obviously, dom reader, sub vox, small use of y/n, gn reader but small use of ‘mommy’
summary — Vox switches out parts of himself after new updates all the time. Surely that power can be used to your advantage, right?
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“You want me to what?” Vox nearly chocked oh his coffee and gazed over at you like you’d just proposed changing the color the sky on command.
“You heard me,” You smile over at him, clearly amused at his baffled expression, “Work your magic.”
The idea was simple, he’d switched out his head very easily for new updates, so surely the same could be done for other, more intimate parts.
From his expression, you figured two things; one, it was that simple and two, he was embarrassed at the idea.
Of course, it wasn’t the perfect environment to suggest switching out his dick for a pussy. You were in his workspace, alone in his large office. He sat his chair with his usual cup of pure black coffee. You leaned up against his desk and awaited a response.
“My dear,” he chuckled to himself, eyeing you with emphasized suspicion, “I don’t think you know what your suggesting—“
He waved his hand around to signify your silly idea, and laughed some more. Although he seemed relatively dismissive of the idea, his screen at brightened a good ten times since the offer, and his laughter was more awkward than amused.
“C’mon Vox. What are you, scared?” You poked, hoping to convince him to give the idea a second chance, “Think you can’t handle it?”
“Stop it,” Vox warned, rolling his eyes and turning away from you in his chair.
You get up off of his desk and walk up to the side of his chair, “And the idea of me having a way to fuck you better is appealing, is it not?”
That earned his silence. He took a long sip of his coffee, and after a moment’s consideration, he huffed.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
And he got to work pretty fast from, what you could tell. Of course, the subject wasn’t touched upon for just short of two weeks. You had actually forgotten about it for a while, in fact.
Vox, on the other hand, had not. He had been thinking about it a lot. So much, he’d started working on the little project you suggested, and finished it.
He was just waiting for the perfect moment to bring it up to you again. So at the end of a long work day, he heads home where you lounge on the couch and ask your usual inquiries about his day.
‘How was work?’ ‘It was fine. So-and-so pissed me off again.’ ‘What are you thinking for dinner?’ A normal, everyday, tame conversation like that took place. However, it took almost an hour after that for Vox to finally shallow his pride and tell you the news.
“You know, I worked on that little project you were talking about last week.” He was leaning back on the couch with a beer in his hands, your legs folded over his as you lay comfortably.
“Wait, do you mean—“ you say up with a start, smile spreading across your face, “Oh shit, Vox. Did you finish it? “
Vox simply scoffed, “Please, at Voxtech, are we not known for our innovative technology? And with my genius—“
“Shut up,” You claim over to him, switching positions so that his back was against the long side of the couch, “Let’s get these pants off of you, jesus christ.”
“Fuck, I—“ The new parts were already throwing Vox off, as he felt a small wetness form on the crotch of his underwear as you straddled him, “Eager, are we? How about on an actual bed instead, hm?”
“Damn, you’re right.” You admit, getting off of him before quickly pulling him up and dragging him by his hand towards the bedroom.
“I know.”
God, you couldn’t wait to fuck that smug attitude out of him. See, you have more than one advantage, other than having general experience with putting Vox in his place.
See, that poor baby has never had his pussy played with, but you were going to change that. God, he didn’t know what was coming.
On your way towards the bed, you can’t help but slam Vox against a few walls, kissing hungrily, pulling at each others clothing.
Finally, half naked you push him onto to bed, hand falling to palm his underwear only to find it already damp.
“Aw, baby. Wet already?” You smirk down at him knowingly. He hisses a response quietly, but you’re more focused on exposing his new parts.
When you finally claw his underwear off, you take a second to admire it; Vox’s perfectly carved pussy, quite literally made for you. All for you.
“Fuck, you did a good job,” you admire, grazing his softly glistening lips with your fingers. He sucks in a breath.
“Yeah, of course I did,” he mutters because gasping when you press your finger softly to his entrance.
“Drop the attitude, sweetheart,” You say, snapping your fingers back up and forcing him into his mouth. He lets out a muffled groan but subsides and begins to suck, anyways.
“You forget you’ve never done this before, baby. Don’t worry, i’m gonna make you feel good.” You coo, forcing another of your fingers into his mouth, getting them nice and wet.
“Good, good boy,” You coo down at him, slipping your fingers out of his mouth and inching them down his body, teasing his entrance softly before finally pushing your pointer finger in.
His breathe wavers, looking at you somewhat dazed. You swirl your finger around slightly, movement causing a dull aching for more in his cunt. Despite his minds protests, he lets out a whine.
“Yeah, I know baby. I know,” You lean down and kiss his neck, sucking on the soft skin as you push another finger into his tight pussy.
He bites his lip, mind clouding up as your fingers pushed in and out of his slick folds. At last, a third digit was pushed inside him, making him moan needily as you finger fucked him.
You toyed with his clit, drawing out a long whine from him, pool forming on the bed below you. You began to finger fuck him fast, forcing your fingers in him aggressively.
”Oh god,” he whines, “Oh f—fff—fuck. That feels good,” he leans back into the mattress and lets out another moan and you speed up.
Your fingers slammed against him as the walls of his soaked pussy clench around you, “You look so stunning. You look fucking gorgeous having your pretty clit played with.”
The words come out as whispers into his neck, as you continue coating his exposed skin in dozens of hickeys.
He shut his eyes at that comment and let out a drawn out whine. He fully gave into your hands as his own came up to the side of his screen.
“You’re so good, sweetheart. Such a good boy. Tell me if anything hurts, m’kay baby?” You drone on sweetly, as if you weren’t roughly abusing his pussy with your fingers.
He whimpers, glitching out slightly, before grinding down on your hands. You continue like that for a while, pulling out moans of pleasure and curses from Vox while you harshly rammed your fingers further into his pussy.
However, after another few minutes you pull out with no warning.
“F—fff—fuck. Why’d you stop?” Vox whines and looked down out at with an outraged look on his face.
“Sweetheart, did you think I was going to let you cum yet? I’m even close to being done with you. And besides,” You draw your fingers up to your mouth make a show of sucking his cum off of them, “I’m still hungry.”
Your words very much implied what was going to happen next, and Vox felt himself get, if even possible, wetter at the thought.
“Fuck,” he didn’t think he could wait any longer, “Oh my god, please.” He spread his legs open to you, exposing his drooly, glistening cunt to you and inviting you in.
You take him up on the offer, diving your head down and close to the pussy. You kiss and suck a trail of skin in his inner thigh, making Vox hiss in complaint.
“Stop teasing! Fuck—zzch— fuck please, I’m ready,” he whined.
You click your tongue, “How impatient,” but your mouth waters slightly looking at his open folds, and you grow less patient yourself.
“Well maybe— Nngh!” Whatever retort he was about to make is cut off when he feels your tongue shoot into him.
He makes a loud noise of approval and you lap him up eagerly, drinking his fluids up like you were starved. His legs wrap around your head instinctively and he grips the sheets for support.
Your tongue explores his folds, licking deeply into him, and sucking on his puffy clit. If his brain already felt fuzzy but from the fingering, then it was completely mush now.
“Oh my fuck—ckk—y/n. Faster, y/n, deeper” he moaned your name like prayer as his whole body started to shake
The lights flickered around you, Vox’s screen glitched out to the point where you wouldn’t be able to see him clearly if your face wasn’t buried in his pussy.
His nails tore the sheets and dig into the mattress, but he didn’t know. He simply squirmed under your tongue and moaned at every hit against his clit.
Every now and then, a zap of electricity would sting your tongue. However, it didn’t slow you down, instead making your move faster. As you desperately lapped up every ounce of Vox’s cum and sucked on his pretty swollen clit, he cried out, feeling his climax build.
“Fuck, y/n. Mommy—“ He buffered incoherently, “mommy ‘m close.” He whined and squirmed, unable to sit still under the stimulation.
You slammed his hips back onto the bed, and he yelped. Finally, your tongue left his cunt for one single moment to deliver two words, “Do it.”
You didn’t wait to dive back into his cunt, just as he barely waited for the action to release all over your tongue. He let out one final cry while he did it, and whimpered slightly when you finally pulled away.
It’s then when you notice the lights around you were completely off, as well as the lights in the next room. Vox lays fucked out on the bed, face completely blue with ‘error’ on the screen.
Shit, you think, just from being eaten out? A swell of triumph overtakes you. You really tongue fucked him into oblivion. It’d be a lie to say you weren’t a little disappointed, as you were planning to break the strap out next.
Oh well. Placing one finally kiss on Vox’s forehead, you begin to clean up.
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a/n — This is probably like very incredibly undeniably similar to that boycunt Lucifer fic… because I didn’t go back and read it before this so…
yeah longtime reader, apologies. Not too proud of this one to be honest, even though I was excited to do it. Two words, ‘good enough.’
edit — also tagging @rosiethevoxobesser and @chronically1online because you two seemed excited and also deviously responsible for this fic your welcome
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violette-hue · 1 year
Text
Jealous
Summary: Steve really doesn't like the person you're interviewing, so afterwards he fucks you sensleess.
Trigger Warning(s): unprotected sex, cursing, degradation, slight forcing, mentions of breeding kink, not proof read, maybe some typos
Word Count: 3.4k
A/N: Happy early birthday @ceo-of-daichi ! Possessive Steve is the best Steve~ (P.S. - I drank some tea for the flu in hops that it'll make me feel better, so the last half of this was written with a drowsy mind).
**Minors and ageless blogs do not interact. 18+ only**
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“You’re interviewing him?”
You turned to look at your boyfriend as you buttoned up your blouse. You cocked a brow at the tone of his implication. You had been getting ready for a meeting for an interview that was to be done in an hour when he stalked into the room.
Ever since Steve had found out you were interviewing Loki for his part in the literal destruction of New York City, he had been making comments here and there on why this was a bad idea. Maybe he was right, but you were just over the moon Loki had even agreed to do an interview with you.
"Babe, I don't really see what's the problem," you responded nonchalantly, taking your time to button up the last few buttons. To show some boobage or to not. You chewed on the inside of your lip in thought.
Steve scoffed. "Are you kidding me? He just tried to take over New York City, causing millions in destruction. He's dangerous."
"Dangerous." You repeated. "Everyone is dangerous, Steve, even The Avengers. Besides, there's going to be, like, a bunch of police guys there guarding him. I actually think they might be S.H.I.E.L.D. agents."
You watched as the muscles on Steve's arm flexed as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"
"Jesus Christ, Steve--"
"Language--"
"Why don't you just come with me? Brood in the corner like my silent protector."
It was silent for a few heartbeats, and you thought Steve might laugh in your face. Instead, he shook his head, a ghost of a smile on his lips.
"Fine," Steve said, leaning back against the door frame. "Button up your shirt again, I missed the show."
You giggled and rolled your eyes, but obeyed. You unbuttoned your blouse, then buttoned it back up again slower this time, giving a good show.
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You walked into the interview room: Loki's cell. He was held behind some type of glass box, the floors some sort of dark, holographic tile. The room was bare, housing only a dozen or so S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. Loki had escaped once from a cell similar to this, the chances of him escaping again were likely. These agents wouldn't be able to do much to stop it.
You stepped towards the glass, stopping a foot or two from the cell. Loki was already standing, and as he stalked towards you, he made sure to trail his eyes over your body.
"Did you get all dressed up for me?" Loki drawled, a smirk tugging on the corners of his lips.
You rolled your eyes and pulled out the small recorder that was tucked into the waistband of your tight skirt. "I hate to bruise your ego, but it's actually a job requirement," you responded, tripling checking the recorder had enough charge. You had checked the decent sized black rectangle before you left the apartment and then on your way over here. A nervous habit and the constant feeling that something would go wrong.
"An enjoyable job requirement. For me," Loki commented.
You heard a low growl come from Steve and felt the warmth from his chest as he stepped closer to you.
"Oh," Loki hummed. "A displeasure to see you Mr. America." Loki took a few steps closer. "Did they send you in to keep guard, too?"
"No," Steve answered roughly. "And it's Captain."
"Yes, so sorry. Mr. Captain." Loki smiled wide, clearly enjoying making your boyfriend irritable.
You couldn't help but giggle and look down. Loki was charming and funny. Too bad he was an absolute menace to society.
"Mr. Laufeyson--" you started, pressing the record button.
"Oh, I like the sound of that," Loki purred.
"--I want to make you aware that from this point forward, I'll be recording or conversation for the interview you agreed to."
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The door that lead to Loki's cell closed with a loud thud and you walked down the quiet hallways in silence. Steve hadn't said much since speaking up before the interview, and you had this gut feeling that something was wrong. You stole a glance toward him and frowned. He was brooding, his brows knitted together with irritation. Even as pissed as he looked, he still looked so beautiful, like he was carved by the hands of a goddess.
"Stop staring at me," Steve said sharply.
You frowned at the roughness in his voice. "You're angry."
"I'm not."
You moved your gaze back to the labyrinth you were walking through, deciding to stay quiet. It was no use trying to talk to Steve when he got in these moods. His walls would come up and anything you'd say would just bounce right back at you. You'd just have to wait until you got home.
The next few minutes were filled with the sounds of your shoes echoing off the dark floors. At this point, you weren't even sure where you were going, and you were hoping that Steve would guide you in the right direction. But he stopped, causing you to stop with him.
"What--?"
"I told you, you shouldn't have done that interview with him," Steve hissed.
You turned towards him, your brows furrowed with confusion. You opened you mouth, but closed it as soon as Steve continued.
"The whole time--the whole fucking time--he was doing nothing but flirting with you. Commenting on your clothes, commenting on your hair, commenting on your hips--"
"I do have nice 'birthing hips,'" you interjected playfully.
Steve backed you up against a wall, his hand slamming against the tile above your head. "That's not the fucking point," he growled, his face inches from yours.
"Language," you breathed. Your thighs instinctively rubbed together at the close proximity of your bodies. With just a slight arc of your back, your aching breasts would be flush against his chest. You mentally kicked yourself. Now wasn't the time to have your head in the gutter. Not when Steve was finally addressing the situation at hand.
"You looked like you were enjoying the flirting, too," he spat. "Did you?"
You were at a loss for words. Of course you enjoyed the playful flirting. You enjoyed the senseless comments just to irritate Steve and the below the belt jabs just to get a response out of him. How could you not? Steve was always so tense, so worried about his image in public that it came home with him. He didn't know how to let loose, how to just be Steve Rogers instead of Captain America.
"Yes," you finally answered. "I enjoyed it. A lot."
Steve pushed himself off the wall and ran a hand through his perfectly combed hair. "Fuck--" He took a deep breath and looked at you, then looked away. He seemed to be having an internal battle with himself.
"I liked the way you reacted to it," you continued bashfully, looking down. "Y'know, this--" You quickly gestured with a hand to Steve and stepped away from the wall.
You felt stupid at the disclosure, but you didn't want Steve to think you enjoyed the flirting because of who it was coming from. You liked the way Steve would place a subtle hand on your hip or gently brush back your hair whenever Loki would make a sly remark. Steve wasn't the possessive type, and you enjoyed it. But you also didn't know him being possessive would do these things to you. Your breasts felt heavier, your nipples pebbled, and your core ached with a neediness you had never felt before.
"This..." Steve trailed off. He gave a breathy chuckle and shook his head. "You're mine."
You blinked, taking a shallow breath. You needed to hear him say that again, needed to hear him say that while he was in you.
Steve shook his head again and backed you up against the wall once more. "You're mine." He buried his head in the crook of your neck and gave you a rough kiss against the sensitive skin. "Mine."
"I'm yours," you whispered, digging your fingers into his shoulders. You tilted your head back, exposing more of your neck for Steve to explore.
He pushed a knee between your legs and pried them open as much as your skirt would allow. His thick, muscled thigh rest on your lower thighs. If only you could hike this skirt up more, you thought, you'd be able to get some friction on your core. Your hips bucked and you licked your lips.
Were you really going to do this right here in the hallway? Steve tangled a hand in your hair and tugged roughly, eliciting a soft moan from your lips. To hell with this being a public space, you wanted Steve now. Your hands trailed down the blue button up he was wearing down to the gold buckle of his brown leather belt. You groaned in frustration, the belt lodged deep within the buckle.
"Steve Rogers and very horny girlfriend," echoed Fury's voice through the PA system. "Go fuck in your own house before I have you arrested."
Your hand froze, as did the rest of your body. How could you have forgotten you were in a public S.H.I.E.L.D. hallway with dozens of cameras? Nick Fury was practically watching the beginning of a porno. You moved your hands away from Steve's belt buckle and fixed your skirt. He stepped away from you, fixing his shirt. That's when you noticed his smirk. Had he planned all this? Realization hit you like a semi truck. Fury had exposed you all over the speakers. Speakers that sounded everywhere. Everywhere like in Loki's cell. After all the shameless flirting, Steve had proven to Loki that you were his.
You frowned. How could Steve have done this? It wasn't like him at all to dangle you like some prize.
"Real fucking mature, Steven."
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"What's wrong, angel? You haven't spoken to me the whole ride home."
"Can it Steven," you snapped, tossing your purse on the kitchen counter. "You used me back there."
Steve scoffed. "Did I make a little scene in that hallway knowing Fury would say something? Maybe, sure. Did I know that Loki would hear? Yes. But, Angel, what was I supposed to do when you liked his flirting?"
You whirled on the ball of your foot toward Steve and pointed a finger at him. "You tricked me! I thought you were finally showing--I don't know, this dominant and possessive side? And I thought it was genuine, not some fucking show!"
Steve gave a heavy sigh. "Angel--"
"Don't fucking 'Angel' me, Steven." You pointed at him again, this time poking his chest. "I wanted to fuck you in that hallway. I was ready to fuck you in that hallway."
Steve grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you closer to him. "I was more than ready to fuck you in that hallway, too," he said, his voice a tad more gentle. "I would have fucked you against the glass of Loki's cell to claim you." A hot shiver ran down your spine and fluttered in your core. "I would have fucked my cum deep inside you until it ran down your legs for everyone to see. Especially him."
Your breath caught in your throat and the anger that was once boiling over in your blood had now dispersed. What replaced it was a deeply rooted lust that burned to your very core. Your blood, your body was on fire and the only way to sate it was to rip the clothes from your body and ride Steve until dawn.
"Do you want that, Angel?" Steve ran a hand down your arm and gently turned you around. His hand ran over your abdomen, his fingers catching in the buttons of your blouse. Your back was now flush against his chest and you felt something hard against your lower back. You breathed a shaky sigh of anticipation as he untucked the shirt from the tight skirt. His fingers worked to free the buttons and you shivered at the tension it caused your body.
You could only nod as the last button was freed, your chest nearly exposed. Your nipples hardened further at the coolness of your shared apartment, your lace bralette doing nothing to keep you warm.
He ran his hands up your bare stomach, then to the bottom of your bralette. His fingers dipped under the black, Lacey fabric and caressed the bottoms of your breasts. Another shaky sigh passed your lips and you rest your head back against shoulder. The feeling of his fingers sliding and squeezing your tender breasts, pinching and rolling your nipples between his fingers had you squirming for more. Wonton mews fluttered through your lips and your own hands rest over his, begging to handle you more rough.
Warm, wet kisses trailed along your neck to the outmost corner of your jaw. Your skin tingled where his lips met your flesh, tingled and buzzed until you felt as if you were going to explode. Steve had never handled you like this, had never been so passionate with you before.
Sex had always been mostly simple with Steve. Standard missionary was the go-to, with the occasional cowgirl. Everything else was…uncharted territory. Of course, you didn’t mind the simplicity, but this…this was amazing.
You pushed your bottom against his hard bulge and whined softly. “Steve,” you mewled. “I need more—please.”
Steve paused his ministrations on your breasts, his breath shaky against your neck. He slid his hands out of your lacy bralette, pausing at the bottom. In an instant, his fingers were digging into the lace, ripping the fragile fabric in two. Goosebumps pimpled over your breasts as the cold air of your apartment enveloped you skin. You gasped softly, the sudden show of aggression catching you off guard. His hands found place at the hem of your skirt, pushing the tight professional ware down your ass.
“What do you need, sweetheart?” Steve asked, his voice an octave lower.
You shakily stepped out of the skirt now pooled at your feet, now only standing in your opened blouse and a simple black thong. You shrugged the blouse to the floor, the remnants of your bralette falling with it. You turned around to face Steve in your nakedness.
“I need you,” you answered timidly, your gaze on the floor. “I need you inside me.” It was weird to tell him what you needed, having never spoken to each other during sex other than the occasional “you like that?” But you felt brave and…sexy. You took the smallest step closer, your fingers teasing the button of his jeans.
Steve let out a shaky breath, his hands gripping your hips tightly. You managed to undo the button one-handed and drag the zipper of his pants down, your fingers brushing against his clothed cock. You felt him twitch slightly, and you couldn't help the smile that tugged on your lips. He must be so hard, probably harder than he's ever been.
"Do you need me, too?" you asked, your hand fingering the hem of his boxers. Where was this braveness coming from? You slipped your hand inside his underwear, gently grabbing his cock. Your thumb swiped along the head of his penis, smearing his pre-cum.
Steve swallowed hard, and you could see the effort it took for him to bring his hand to caress your cheek. "I want you to suck my cock," Steve grunted.
Your thumb stopped its ministrations and you pulled your hand from his boxers. "No." You stepped back, looking Steve up and down.
Steve cocked his head to the side, his brows furrowed. "'No'?" he repeated. He took a step towards you, and you took a step back, your lower back brushing against the kitchen island counter. Steve shook his head and pulled up the shirt he wore. Understandably, you were quite distracted by his chest and the dark hairs leading down to--
You let out a small yelp as Steve grabbed you by the backs of your knees and placed you on the counter. He forced your legs apart, running a finger over the thin g-string covering your heated mess. A finger pushed the thin fabric aside and delved inside your needy cunt. His finger flexed and curled almost instantly, and you let out a loud moan.
"You sound so needy," he growled, pulling his finger out. He rubbed his thumb and forefinger together, spreading your juices. "Is it me that's got you like this? Or him?" He shook his head, disgust shining through his features. "Slut."
You winced at the word, at the harshness of it. Did he really mean that? "Steve," you started, "of course it's you--" You were cut off with a loud moan pushing through your lips as Steve inserted two fingers inside you. His fingers curled once more, and with it your toes.
"This pussy belongs to me," he pumped his fingers inside you, his other hand pushing down his boxers and pants. "Your pussy belongs to me."
Without a warning, Steve's fingers abandoned your needy core, and in its place was his cock. The thickness stretched you out, and the head of his penis hit against your puffy walls. He pulled out quickly, then bottomed out inside you once more. His hands gripped your hips roughly, his thrusts just as rough. You cried out each time, nearly feeling him in your stomach. It was too much, but not enough at the same time. You had never been fucked like this before, and you relished in it. Relished in the way Steve's balls slapped against you with a wet snap. Relished in the way Steve made a mess of you--your wetness dripping down to the counter.
"I belong to you," you whimpered, back arching. Your hands gripped his thick biceps, your nails digging into his flesh.
Steve's thrusts faltered and he finally looked at you. He pulled you flush to his chest, your bare breasts against him. He gripped your chin and looked deep into your eyes. "Say it again."
You were caught aback, never having seen Steve so vulnerable before. You moved your hands up to rest on his shoulders. "I'm yours, Steve. Body and soul."
It was as if a switch had been pressed in Steve. One minute you were on the counter and the next you were bouncing against the wall. Steve thrust up into you, his cock never leaving the warmth of your pussy. His grip on your hips was ironclad as he fucking you on the wall. You screamed in bliss and in pain. You'd never been explored like this--Steve had never explored you like this. His cock was hitting places you didn't even know existed or felt good. He shifted his position, thrusting into you at a different angle and you saw stars. Tears leaked from the corner of your eyes as your orgasm washed through your body. Your legs wrapped around his torso, your ankles locking around each other.
Steve fucked you through your orgasm, sweat lining the both of your bodies. Your hands tangled in his hair and tugged lightly, another cry emanating from your lips. You ground your hips down against him, your clit rubbing against his pelvis. You could feel another orgasm coming, could feel the tension in your body rise. Your fingers tightened on the strands of Steve's hair as another orgasm was nearing its peak. Your back arched as your body trembled with another orgasm, your legs shaking. Steve's thrusts faltered and he groaned loudly. His cock twitched inside you as he pushed himself as deep as he could in your battered cunt. He allowed himself to spill his seed within you, and you both stayed in that position for quite some time. Even when you felt his cock soften within you, you stayed like that, each breathing hard.
"Steve?" you breathed, untangling your fingers from his hair.
"Hmm?" he answered. His head rest on your shoulder, his breath fanning against your neck.
"Did you really mean that? That you'd fuck me in front of Loki?"
Steve lifted his head and looked at you. "Well, maybe not in front of someone--"
"But like," you paused timidly, "in public?"
Steve chuckled. "I wouldn't mind, angel. We can try it one day."
5K notes · View notes
ourautumn86 · 1 year
Note
gonna need an abby version of your ‘sexting ellie williams’ fics bc god am i obsessed with that woman
a/n; you ask and you shall receive
sexting with gf! abby! ♡
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pt2
cw; +18 content! minors dni!, sexting, drinking (reader is in a party and drunk), description of a video of reader touching herself, abby being as cocky as ever, top! abby, bottom! reader, fingering, praising, oral sex (r receiving), cum eating, making out, allusions of sex with strap…
3:24 AM
abs
abssssss
abbyyyyy
sht abayuyyy
abby groaned as her phone buzzed nonstop, reaching for it and squinting her eyes at the screen’s light. she took a peak at the hour. holy fuck. 3AM?
baby? what the hell? why are you up this late?
partyyyy
u’re at a party rn? bfr
yessss. owen’s
i’m gonna kill him. why did he let you drink this much?
i’m not deinkkk
you’re definitely drunk, doll. i’m gonna go get you, alright? stay put wherever u are and don’t move.
no no lsten, i have something impurtabt to telll u
what is it?
ik i’m drunk rn but in gunna marry you
you’re gonna marry me?
abby was laughing at your texts. yes, she was worried you had been drinking, but you were at owen’s and you were safe. and it was so fucking fun to watch you try and type correctly.
yes
i’m marryin u
even if you r meanb
me? when have i been mean to you baby?
rn
right now?
yeahh, ‘cause tou’re sooooj beautiful
all i fan think about are your lips rn
why r u not heyre?
okay. you’re really drunk, baby, why don’t you wait for me and we talk about this when i get there, hm?
no.
u r gonna take sooooiii long
you’ve pretty eyesX
they look so good when u go down on me
abby’s eyes widened, and her whole body seemed to burn. shit.
yeah? they look good princess?
mmmh
want u
and you’re so far away rn it’s nor fair
that was a fucking lie. abby was already on the road to get there. shit. she loved it when you went all needy on her. and when you were drunk? you had no filter. always screaming and moaning so loud she sometimes would have to muzzle you to not have the neighbors knocking on her door.
oh baby, why don’t you come here and sit on my face? my tongue will say sorry for me
your cheeks flushed, and your cunt throbbed. you loved it when she’d make you sit on her face, her tongue unrelenting on fucking you over and over again until you wouldn’t cum anymore. you needed her. and you needed her right now. the bathroom you had gone in felt suddenly too hot and your panties too sticky. you hissed when your fingers pushed in them, feeling just how wet you had become for her. you couldn’t help but plunge a finger inside your tight hole. of course, your fingers weren’t as near as largue and thick as abby’s, but you needed something until she’d get there and do it for you.
csn i tell u s secret?
ofc princess, what is it?
i’m fucking my pussy rn
jesus christ. abby almost hit the breaks. almost crashed when you send her a video of —now— two of your fingers fucking inside your tight and squelching walls. she could hear your little whimpers and pants.
couldnt wair abymore
i need you so bad abby pkease
shit. writing with only one hand and drunk wasn’t that easy. you were whimpering and moaning as you fingered yourself on the bathroom of owen’s party. you thanked god the music was loud enough to muffle your sounds, ‘cause you surely couldn’t swallow them back inside.
abby was exceeding the speed limit to get there, practically parking on top of owen’s lawn as she jumped out of the car, running towards the house.
where.
bathroom
she didn’t even say hi to owen as she passed right through him, her blood boiling as she ran upstairs and swung the door open. you hadn’t even locked it. fucking hell.
abby almost went down on her knees when she saw you sitting on the toilet’s lid with a hand buried in between your thighs and your phone on the other, your chat open and showing on the screen. your senses came back to you as you heard the lock turning, and you moaned when you saw her.
did i say almost? abby had never been quicker to kneel down, her strong arms pushing your legs on top of her shoulders to move your hand away and, after cleaning up your fingers with her tongue, hurriedly burying her face in your cunt. your back arched, and you let out a scream that made her groan, lapping at your juices. you were so fucking wet…
“fuck, abby!” you cried out when she plunged her own fingers deep inside your cunt, easily finding your g spot.
she cooed. “my princess was just feeling needy. weren’t you, baby? poor thing. so horny for me couldn’t wait until i could get here. sending me a video of touching your tight little cunt just to tease me, didn’t you?” you whimpered, bucking your hips against her touch, your back arching.
“please abby… your mouth.” you begged.
“you want my mouth baby? want me to eat this soaked pretty pussy of yours?” you nodded, pleading for it, and she followed, her tongue meeting your clit and making you moan. “so fucking loud…” she groaned, starting to devour you to get out of you more or those pleasured sounds. she was starving. and you were falling apart, melting under her tongue.
“abby!” you screamed when her tongue fucked inside of you, her arms tugging from you to get closer, her nose nudging your clit. the alcohol made you feel dizzy, and the pleasure only seemed to grow and grow. you could feel it shocking through your body, her grunts making your body gave into her. you needed her.
“fuck, you look so fucking beautiful. need you bouncing on my cock baby.” you whimpered, nodding.
“yes please, abby, please, need you to fuck me.” you were a babbling mess, her tongue teasing you and making you squirm. she adored making you tremble, seeing you get more and more desperate for her to make you cum.
“yeah? need me to fuck you sweet girl? need me to to fuck your brains out?” you nodded, moaning, your chest heaving harshly, your thighs shaking at the sides of her head, your back arched when her fingers, three this time, plunged inside of you, abusing your g spot and making you see stars. “i will princess. but first you’re gonna cum on my tongue, isn’t that right?” your hands found her hair, tugging when she sucked down on your sensitive and puffy clit. “yeah, of course you are. you are squeezing my fingers so tight, fuck… you always take them so well baby. such a fucking good girl for me. can’t wait to see you taking my cock.“ you could feel the warmth on your stomach grow and grow.
“abby, i’m gonna…! i’m cumming!” you cried out, and she only fingered you faster, harder. it was imposible to describe. this feeling. her.
“go ahead baby, let me clean you all up.” she smirked, and with a last thrust and lick at your clit you were falling apart, making her groan when you pushed her face harder against your gushing cunt. you whited out.
she helped you ride it as your moans broke, your hips stuttering and your creamy white and salt cum painted her fingers. she moaned against you, cleaning it with her tongue and humming at the taste. there was nothing she loved more than giving you head.
once you’d calmed down and your breathing had evened out, she pulled her fingers out to push them inside her mouth. you whined as you watched her, with lips swollen and chin soaked in your juices.
“let’s get out of here.” she said, and you nodded, not before kissing her so deeply you left her as drunk and dizzy as you felt.
yeah. she was definitely gonna marry you.
….
LORD. that was filthy asf. i’m sorry… or nah.🤭
hope you enjoyed. remember to support your writers! <3
abby anderson masterlist! <3
xxx
2K notes · View notes
immoralkombat · 7 months
Text
feeling(s)
Kenshi has been blind for maybe an hour or two.
Johnny looks over at him with sympathy. He's not sure what he could possibly do or say to make things seem any less bleak for him. The man was just trying to get his family's heirloom back and now, after months of training and dedication, one of his five senses is gone permanently through no fault of his own. If Johnny were in Kenshi's position, he's sure he'd be feeling just as desolate, if not more so.
Kung Lao is sitting in the far corner, talking to Baraka. He seems genuinely fascinated by Tarkat as a disease. Were Johnny not in the same situation as them, he would find that particular conversation topic a bit morbid. Right now, it's really all they have to talk about. They've already exhausted all the small talk options you normally go through when first meeting someone. They might as well start talking about the disease that'll eventually kill Baraka.
The salve on the cloth seems to have worked a little, because at least Kenshi isn't moaning in pain every few seconds anymore. Not that it makes things significantly more cheerful, but it does help the atmosphere a bit.
Johnny taps on his knees as he sits, eyes darting between looking at Kung Lao and Kenshi. He's kind of in between where the two have sat themselves, a visual and metaphorical median between the two ways one could possibly react to getting imprisoned by a sorcerer that's almost 100% going to kill you. (To be fair, there isn't much that connects the points of "casually talking about a stranger's terminal illness with them as though you're both standing by the office water cooler talking about whatever hit TV show is airing these days" and "rocking back in forth in the corner about how a different terminally ill stranger took your eyes and you have nothing left in this world." Johnny supposes the best middle point is "looking anxiously between your two co-workers and not saying anything because Jesus Christ, what the fuck are you supposed to say in this situation besides aforementioned terminal illness.")
He really wishes that Kenshi still had his eyes, because every time he looked at Johnny, it always seemed to make everything feel okay.
Johnny thinks for a second and then scoots closer to Kenshi. It's only once he accidentally bumps up against Kenshi's foot and scares the living shit out of everyone in the cell that he realizes he probably should've given an audible cue that he was going to be approaching the newly blind guy.
After Kenshi's done having a mini panic attack over the sudden Hollywood A-lister jumpscare he's gotten, Johnny looks at him and asks, quietly, "Do you want to hold Sento for a bit?"
Kenshi turns to face him and even underneath the newly christened blindfold, Johnny can tell that Kenshi is looking at him with the most surprised and reverent eyes in the universe. The kind of look that you'd get and say "fuck this stupid sword, I'd pay $3 million just to get this guy to look at me like that again."
Kenshi's mouth opens as though he's going to say something, but it shuts again before any words or sounds can come out. He opts to nod in response and Johnny takes the scabbard from off his back, holds it in his hands gently and passes it to Kenshi. Their fingertips graze one another, a way to indicate that the blind man is in the right spot. The touch sends crackles of electricity through Johnny and he wonders if Kenshi feels them too.
It's like the tattoos on Kenshi's hands are swirling around him, colors dancing in front of his eyes. It's more beautiful than any lame fucking Disney movie ever could be.
The yakuza's voice is hoarse as he says "Thanks." It's so small that Johnny can almost see it breaking in the air. He wants to put his hand on Kenshi's and tell him that things will be okay, that he's going to pay for a sight companion, any kind of corrective surgeries he wants, whatever it takes. He wants to tell him that he's still just as strong and fierce and goddamn handsome now as he was before. He wants to kiss him so fucking badly it makes his entire being ache.
He settles for saying "You're welcome," and then sitting next to Kenshi in silence.
He watches the way that he holds Sento in his hands, feels every single nick in the scabbard, every single imperfection. It's the first time in Johnny's life that he's ever wanted to be a sword and, if he keeps hanging out with Kenshi after this, (which he hopes he can), it almost certainly won't be the last.
Johnny wishes that Mileena had taken Kenshi's tear ducts with her after she'd stabbed his eyes out, because the short sad sobs that wrack through his body are almost too much to bear witness to. When he cries, it moves through his entire being. It sends a shockwave from his gut upward, makes him lurch his shoulders forward and hug himself.
"H-Hey, what's wrong?" Johnny asks. He knows it's a stupid fucking question, obviously everyone knows what's wrong, most of all the guy it happened to. But it's all he can think to ask as he watches Kenshi continue to awkwardly jerk alongside his cries.
Kenshi's head turns to face Johnny. From beyond the thin red cloth that covers his eye sockets, Johnny can feel them boring into him.
"Cage, could I touch you? I want to remember what your face looks like."
If Johnny were operating on his full mental capacity, he would probably explode at this question. He would become the fireworks they popped last night at the banquet over their heads as they feasted. He would be attached to one end of a fuse with Li Mei holding the other end, readying herself to spark it and send him to the stratosphere.
"Y-Yeah, of course you can, Ken-doll. Just make sure not to damage the goods - people pay good money for this mug to show up on their big screens."
The smugness in his voice would normally earn him a "tch" or a groan, (or an eye roll), from Kenshi. Hearing him chuckle under his breath makes his heart soar.
He turns his face toward him and waits, but no touch comes. His eyes close, he anticipates the electricity to come back... and instead he hears Kenshi clearing his throat awkwardly.
Johnny opens his eyes and finds that Kenshi's still got his hands on Sento. He tries not to be jealous of the sword again, but as with any other time he's tried not to be jealous of someone or something that has what he wants, he fails miserably.
"Could you get closer, Cage?"
"Not the first time I'm hearing that question, won't be the last. How close you need me, handsome?"
The words come out before he can even process them. Jesus Christ, is he really that much of a disaster that he can just openly call a guy he's been crushing on for at least a month handsome without even thinking about it? He's a fucking mess. His wife left him and now he doesn't know how to act. She was gonna be the only person he'd ever be able to trick into loving him and now she was gone.
"I'm going to turn, and I suggest you do the same. I want to be facing you. You can sit with your legs touching mine if it helps."
Great, now Kenshi has a colorful blindfold that also serves as a perfect swatch for the shade of red Johnny's face turns every time the man says something that's totally fucking normal for two people that are acquainted with one another.
Johnny does as he's told, because if there's one thing he's good at, it's taking directions. (Ignoring literally every single major motion picture he's ever been in, every statement he's ever made to the press after consulting his legal teams and public consultants, and generally living life up until this point.)
His knees knock against Kenshi's and it takes him aback for a second, how giddy and childish the butterflies he feels in his stomach are. Getting to know Kenshi was so simple. He wishes he had just taken a second and been less of a dickwad back when they'd first met, because maybe then it'd be easier for him to grow a pair of cajones and tell Kenshi that he doesn't spend a single night without thinking about how much he wants to trace the tattoos on his hands and arms. Maybe if he had just given Sento over, it'd be easier to admit that the low rumble of Kenshi's voice does something to stir up the pool of heat in his stomach that he thought had been long since gone after getting married to Cristal. Maybe if he hadn't tied Kenshi to one of his kitchen chairs, it'd be easier to ask him if kissing washed-up celebrities was something he'd be interested in doing.
"I'll put my hand out, you lean forward to match it."
Kenshi's palm is extended and it takes every ounce of willpower in Johnny's aching body to not press his lips against it. He leans forward until his cheek is lightly touching the yakuza's hand.
He must be hearing things, because he swears he hears Kenshi's breath hitch when they make contact for the first time. Nah, surely not. Must've been the wind.
If Kenshi's senses are heightened because of the loss of his vision, then Johnny's senses are heightened because of the gain of his touch. He purses his lips together to stop from letting out some sort of obscene sound as he feels Kenshi's hand slowly smooth over his cheek. He thanks whatever fucked up Gods exist other than Liu Kang that he finally got on that moisturizing routine that he learned off of TikTok three months ago.
As Kenshi's hand slowly feels out every angle and curve of Johnny's face, his thoughts rush a mile a minute. He wonders if he should've done a closer shave today - maybe his stubble is gonna be too sharp and it'll hurt Kenshi and leave him with little cuts or rug burn on his pretty perfect wrap-around-my-throat-please hands. He wonders if his nose is too big. He wonders if he maybe should've invested in hair plugs after that one weird SNL dropout made a comment about his weird square hairline back when he guest starred on the Comedy Central roast of Megan Fox. He wonders if his eyes are too small or too large or too close together or too far apart. He wonders if he should smile so Kenshi can feel his dimples.
"Yep, it all feels just like how I remember it. Although the stubble has gotten a little longer."
That is certainly not the answer he was expecting to hear.
His voice is small, barely there, as he chokes out his question. "You remember what I look like?"
Kenshi nods. "I do."
Johnny goes to open his mouth to ask, "Then why did you ask to touch it if you already knew?"
But then Kenshi's fingers are on his lips, tracing them with the reverence he'd have holding Sento, and for a moment, Johnny finally thinks he's better than that stupid fucking sword. His smile has the same curves, the same edges. The only difference is that Kenshi can't accidentally hurt himself this way. (He can, however, accidentally hurt Johnny. But even that would be better than the alternative, he thinks.)
Kenshi's thumb is on his bottom lip, the rest of his hand now holding Johnny's chin. If he tilts it up even one degree, Johnny thinks it'll be over for him, that he'll be kissing Kenshi before he can even think to stop himself. He'd always had poor impulse control - why else would he have spent $3 million on a fucking sword to hang up in his living room?
"These are the same, too. I'm glad you weren't hurt in the fight, Cage."
Johnny feels so fucking overwhelmed. He wants to ask so many things. First of all, what does "these are the same, too" mean? Second, why does he care about the guy who bought his fucking family heirloom and refuses to give it back? Third, why does he insist on calling him Cage like one day he won't end up calling him Johnny and breaking his heart? Fourth, what in the goddamn fuck does he mean about Johnny's fucking lips being the goddamn motherfucking same?!
Johnny decides to play it up like he always does. "Well, 'course. Gotta keep my pretty mouth. It's what makes the big bucks. I wouldn't be the same without it."
Kenshi smirks, and thank Liu Kang's weird god siblings that he's blind right now, because Johnny is beet red, mouth agape, with his eyebrows raised (and he's fairly certain that something else also rises).
"That's true. You would not be the same without that infamous mouth." Kenshi accents the compliment(?) with a playful slap to Johnny's cheek, and then his hand is withdrawn entirely, leaving an empty ghost where he should still be holding Johnny's face in his hands.
He bites back the urge to immediately ask if Kenshi wants to know just how infamous the mouth is, and settles for clearing his throat and moving back to sitting against the wall next to Kenshi.
He looks over at him after he's gotten calmed down. His heart is still jackhammering against his ribs, but as long as Kenshi can't feel his pulse, he doesn't have to know. Kenshi seems to sense Johnny's eyes on him because he turns to face him, red blindfold all that stands between the gaping holes where Kenshi's eyes used to be and Johnny's gaze full of adoration.
The yakuza grabs Sento from his lap and hands it back to Johnny.
"Thank you. I appreciate you letting me hold it. And I appreciate your help in grounding me back to reality."
Johnny nods, taking Sento back and putting it where it so wrongfully deserves to be, strapped against Johnny's sore fucking back.
"No problem. Lemme know whenever you get the urge to feel out what an Adonis looks like, I'm happy to oblige." His comment is a means to an end. He plays up the egoism to ignore the shock that courses through him as Kenshi's fingertips touch his one last time.
He resolves then and there to give Sento back as soon as they escape from here, and they will escape.
This cannot be the last time he feels Kenshi's hands on him.
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Baraka whispers, about as well as he can without lips or an inside voice, "Do they not realize how much they yearn for one another?"
Kung Lao shakes his head, putting a hand on Baraka's shoulder and immediately regretting it once he feels a spike tear into his palm. "They've just gotta be stupid about it for a bit longer. They'll figure it out."
"Surely their pining has to cause some sort of agony for you as well, does it not, Earthrealmer?" Baraka looks genuinely confused, or as close to it as he can get from what Kung Lao can tell.
Kung Lao hangs his head, sighing languidly. "Of course it does. But what else am I gonna do about it? Tell them? They're not gonna believe me. Trust me, they've got to figure it out on their own time, or they never will."
And as he sees Johnny's hand inch closer to Kenshi's, finally overlapping the tattoos and interlocking their fingers, Kung Lao thinks that maybe the agony won't last much longer.
584 notes · View notes
livyjh · 7 months
Text
Slumber Party
Co-written with @fhatbhabie
Best friend’s dad!Joel x Plus size!Virgin!Reader
Rating: EXPLICIT 18+
Word count: 4.8k
Summary: you and a couple other friends stay at Sarah Miller’s for a sleepover. Sarah’s father, Joel, overhears something, you spill something, and eventually Joel sweetly takes your purity.
A/N: we wrote this up in like two hours in a frenzy of Joel x virgin reader madness. We love to see it, right??
Warnings: smut (duh), filler OC friends of reader and Sarah, reader is literally so clueless and innocent when it comes to anything sexual, soft!Joel, AGE GAP (reader is 22/23 and Joel is like 50), mentions of drinking alcohol/being intoxicated, wet t-shirt 👀, Joel is low key kind of a perv 🤷🏼, fem gendered terms used for reader, use of condom for once, loss of virginity, nipple play, I think that’s it??
Joel Miller Masterlist
****************************************************
“Should we get wine for the sleepover?” You asked Sarah.
“Heather and Kayla are gonna bring some. Dad would kill me if he saw me coming home with alcohol.” She rolled her eyes.
“But you're 23… You're old enough.”
“You know how my dad is. Still thinks I’m a virgin and that I’ve never had a boyfriend before.”
“Thought you told him everything?”
Sarah shrugged. “2 things I don’t talk to my dad about and that’s booze and boys. Much less when I mix those things together.” You both giggled. You paid for the snacks and other things you had picked out for the night and tossed all the bags in the trunk of your car.
“I got some fun things we could do too.” Sarah smirked.
“Jesus… Like what?”
“You’re gonna have to wait and see.” She smirked and let out an evil laugh.
“Think I’m just gonna go home...” you mumbled, making her laugh.
***
You walked into the house with Sarah, helping her bring in the snacks and things you bought.
“Dad, we’re back!” Sarah yelled out. You heard heavy footsteps walk down and he walked into the kitchen. Joel Miller. Your best friend’s dad and the one man you somehow can’t ever stop looking at with heart eyes… like the damn emoji.
“Hey, baby girl. Get everythin’ you girls needed?” His thick Texan accent was smooth as fucking honey to your ears. Made your heart and stomach flutter when you heard it, along with a different feeling that you couldn’t really explain… because you didn’t even know where the feeling came from.
“Yep. Heather and Kayla should be here shortly so we’ll be in my room.”
“Why don’t you girls take the livin’ room?”
“Because we’re gonna be sharing our deepest, darkest secrets.” She teased, making Joel laugh. Jesus Christ… his laugh. Definitely made that unknown feeling grow stronger.
The sound of the doorbell pulled you out of your thoughts. Sarah walked over and opened the door, leaving you and Joel alone in the kitchen.
“How have you been, Mr. Miller?” You asked sweetly.
“Good darlin’ how about you?”
“Good, just working.” You shrugged.
“Must be workin’ an awful lot. Haven’t seen much of you around.”
“Yeah trying to save up to move out of my moms. Maybe even get a place with Sarah.”
Joel nodded. “Yeah, she mentioned it. You know if you ever need anythin’ you can just let me know darlin. I don’t mind helpin.”
You blush when he calls you darlin. “Thank you, Mr. Miller.” You gave him a sweet smile and walked up to Sarah’s room.
“I’m gonna go change into my pajamas.” You smiled at the girls and grabbed your overnight bag.
You stepped into the bathroom and slipped on a white tank top with a pair of hot pink pajama shorts that hugged your ass perfectly. Granted tonight you didn’t care about looks but it was your favorite pajama set and your most comfortable. You walked back into Sarah’s room and sat down in the circle everyone was sitting in on the floor.
“Here.” Kayla handed you a glass of red wine. You took a small sip, letting out a groan when the bitter taste hits your tongue.
After almost 2 bottles of wine later is when the game started. The classic game of Truth or Dare.
“Okay okay, Kayla, truth or dare?” Heather asks.
“Mmmm dare.” Kayla replies.
Heather thought for a second. “I dare you to ask your most recent Tinder match for a dick pic.” She smirked.
“God you’re such a perv, Heather.” Sarah laughed.
Kayla pulled out her phone and did what Heather said. Seconds later her phone went off and she pulled up the text and started blushing.
“Fuck, I might end up meeting with this man…” she mumbled.
“You slut, let me see!” Heather yelled out, making Kayla turn her phone around and show everyone. You felt your chest tighten at the sight of the picture. It wasn’t long, but it was thick. So thick that his hand didn't fully wrap around it.
“Is… Is it supposed to look like that…?” You whispered.
“You’ve never seen a dick before?” Heather asked.
“Umm, okay who’s next?” You called out, trying to quickly change the subject.
“Y/N. Truth or dare?” Kayla asked, looking at you with a smirk. This can’t be good.
“Truth...”
“Is it true that you’re still a virgin?” She says; a little too loudly.
You felt heat rise quickly to your cheeks, almost making them the color of your shorts.
“Yes...” you mumbled into your glass of wine.
“No way! You’re fucking joking.” Sarah said.
“No, it’s true...” you said, a little embarrassed.
“Are you just waiting, or…?” Sarah raised a brow.
“Not really. Not waiting for marriage or anything, I just haven’t found the right guy I wanna do it with…”
“I bet you there’s plenty of guys that wanna do it with you.” Heather added.
“Yeah, but the only reason they want to is ‘cause they wanna bang a big girl. I don’t wanna lose my virginity to some sleeze ball like that.” You took a sip and let out a sigh. “Plus I have no idea what I’m doing when it comes to that.”
“Babe, I can teach you.” Heather smirked, making you all burst into laughter.
***
After you all finished the third bottle of wine, everyone fell asleep. You woke up and looked over at the clock Sarah had on her bedside table and saw it was a little past 1am. You stretched your body out and got up slowly and quietly, moving around the sleeping girls on the floor. You walked down to the kitchen and turned on the sink, filling a glass of water.
“Everythin’ okay?” Joel said, making you jump.
“Christ… You scared me, Mr. Miller.”
He let out a small chuckle. “Sorry darlin, didn’t mean to. You okay, though?”
“Yeah, just thirsty.” You said, giving him a small smile. You bring the glass to your lips, sipping at the cold water. It felt so good going down your throat that you couldn’t help but gulp it down as fast as you could.
The water spills over the sides of the glass and drips down your chin and onto your thin tank top. You quickly lower the glass and wipe your face, then look down at your wet chest. Joel’s eyes follow yours.
The water wet the center of the shirt, really showing the cleavage underneath. From the cold temperature of the water, your nipples quickly hardened and started to poke out under the tank top. Joel groans in his throat, causing you to look up at him.
His eyes are focused on your chest, strong jaw clenching and unclenching. He gulps and then his eyes meet yours. “You- you got another shirt you can change into?” He asks, voice an octave deeper.
“Yeah… it’s upstairs.” You bite your lip as you look up at him through your lashes. There was that feeling again… the one you couldn’t identify. It was somewhere in your pelvis.
“Why don’t you take that off? Don’t want you gettin’ too cold.” Joel glances down at your cleavage once more.
That sent fire through your body and blood straight between your legs. You squeezed your thighs together, barely holding back a moan that dared to escape. “O- okay.” You nod.
You couldn’t help but agree, the way his eyes were on you… the way it was making you feel… you don’t know why, but you want him to touch you. Everywhere.
You set the almost empty glass on the counter and reach for the hem of your tank top. Your fingers fiddle with it for a moment before you slowly lift it up, revealing your belly and then your breasts until it was all the way off.
Joel made another choked sound in his throat, staring at your lips for a long second before his eyes drifted back down to your chest. You feel like you should be uncomfortable. Like you shouldn’t want him to see your naked torso right now, but it’s not how you feel.
“I hear one of the girls ask if you were a virgin earlier?” His voice was soft as his eyes went up to meet yours again.
You nod.
“Didn’t hear your answer.” Joel shifts his weight to his other leg.
“Y- yes. It was… yes.” You breathe.
“Can’t believe that. Pretty girl like you…” he takes a deep breath and steps closer. “If it were me… I’d treat you real good. Take it as slow as you wanted.”
Your heart starts beating faster and you could almost feel the warmth coming off the older man’s body. You can feel your heart beating between your legs too. That was new.
“Mr. Miller… I-“ you swallow thickly. “W- would you… teach me?”
“Teach you what?” He pauses. “Need to hear you say it, honey.”
“Teach me how… to have sex. To- to feel good… like that.” You raise your brows just slightly.
“More’n happy to, darlin.” He smirks, just barely. “You comfortable comin up to my room?” He gently tucks a piece of hair behind your ear.
“Yes, Mr. Miller.” You smile.
He smiles back and nods his head towards the stairs, encouraging you to follow him.
Once you’re in his room, you’re overtaken by the pure smell and essence of Joel.
The door closes and you spin around to look at him, top half still bare, wet tank top in hand.
He stands there for a moment, not moving in just yet.
You’ve only just noticed he’s wearing gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt. You could… see things… through the sweatpants. It made your stomach twist in the best way.
“Have a seat, honey.” He motions to the bed, letting you sit before he starts to walk over. He plops down next to you, taking your tank top from your hands and tossing it onto the chair against the wall.
“Mind if I touch?” Joel hovers a hand over your thigh.
“Y- yeah. That’s fine.” You nod, breath a little shaky.
He rests his large hand on your upper thigh, the warmth of it making you gasp softly.
“Now, if at any point you wanna stop, just say so. Okay?”
“Okay.” You smile at him.
“So… you’ve never done anything?” He asks, thumb rubbing up and down on your leg.
You shake your head. “Well, I’ve like, done heavy making out before but that’s it.”
“You ever do anything by yourself?”
“By myself?”
“Yeah. Masturbate.” He looks up and down your body throughout the conversation.
“Oh… um, no. I mean, I’ve kinda tried but I don’t really know what I’m doing.” You admit, blushing hard.
He smiles. “That’s okay, sweetie. I’ll teach you anything you wanna know.”
You nod. “Can we start with the basics?”
“Of course.”
“Now the most important part, especially for your first time, is the foreplay.” Joel brings up the hand on your thigh, turns it over, and runs the back of it over your breast, his knuckles brushing against your nipple.
You shiver slightly. “F- foreplay?”
“Gettin you warmed up. If you’re not warmed up, it’s not gonna feel good.” He moves his hand up, pushing your hair over the back of your shoulder and moving his palm down your back and to the top of your ass.
“What’s the best way to do that?”
“Depends on the person. I like to start with kissing and touching.”
“Okay.” You breathe.
“Can I kiss you, baby doll?” He leans in just slightly.
“Yes, Mr. Miller.”
He laughs softly. “Call me Joel if you want to.”
“Okay.” You smile and the next thing you know, you’re both closing your eyes and leaning in.
His lips press to yours gently and you instinctively wrap your arms around the back of his neck. Both of his hands find the sides of your waist and pull you in closer as he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth.
You whimper as he barely bites your lower lip before releasing it. His left hand moves up to cup your right breast, making you giggle.
“What’s so funny?” He laughs along.
“Just tickled a little.” You smile.
He laughs again before leaning in once more. As you start to kiss repeatedly, making out with each other, he palms at your breast, thumb brushing over your nipple.
Whatever he was doing, it was making you feel like you had to pee. You’ve had a similar feeling before, but you could never figure out the cause of it.
You squeeze your thighs together, something Joel notices. “Does that feel good?”
“Really good.” You assure him.
“May I?” Joel moves his hands down to your shorts, slipping his fingers into the waistband.
“Yeah.” You move your arms behind you to support yourself as you lift your hips and he takes off your shorts.
“Mm. Look at those. Very cute.” Joel smiles when he looks at your panties.
They’re white, with small bundles of pink flowers scattered across the fabric, and edges that were slightly frilly.
“Thanks.”
“‘Course. C’mere.” He stands and motions to the bed. “Lay down.”
You do as you’re told, turning and moving up the bed to lay down, resting your head on one of the pillows. “Like this?”
“That’s perfect.” He nods.
“Um, Mr. Miller?” You feel nervousness churn in your stomach.
“What?”
“I think I would like it if you took some of your clothes off too.”
He grins. “Of course.” He reaches down to the bottom of his shirt and pulls it up and off over his head before letting it drop to the floor.
You look down at his sweatpants and notice that the bulge there has grown and tented the pants slightly.
“These too?” He asks, hooking his thumbs into the gray waistband.
“Yeah.” You nod.
He smiles and slips the sweatpants down over his hips and thighs, stepping out of them when they hit the ground.
You can’t help but look at his dick in his boxer briefs. It looks big, you think. Not that you really had anything to compare it to. Had to be longer than the one from Kayla’s phone earlier. And about the same thickness you’d guess.
Joel lays down in the bed, facing you, so close that his chest is touching your arm. It’s so warm. He’s so warm.
He leans in closer, kissing your cheek. Then another kiss at the base of your jaw. Then another below your ear and a few more down your neck.
You squeeze your thighs together again as he trails kisses down the center of your chest. You watch him as he does this, his lips brushing over your left breast until his mouth surrounds your nipple.
He presses an especially wet kiss to it before his tongue peeks out and flicks the pink bud. You gasp at the feeling, something tightening in your core.
“How’s that feel?” He asks, making sure he’s taking care of you.
“Kinda weird I guess. But- but good. Like, really good.”
“Alright.” He nods and swirls his tongue around your nipple as his hand moves to the lower part of your belly. He starts to gently rub his hand back and forth over it as it slowly gets lower, stopping at the top of your panties.
He suddenly sucks your nipple into his mouth and you reach up to grab his hair, your eyes rolling back in your head.
His hand, laid flat, moves down further, over the fabric of your underwear until his fingers are gently cupping your sex.
You’re ready to start squirming at this point. You don’t know what you need. Just… “more.” You whine.
“More what?” Joel looks up at you.
“I- I don’t know.” You frown.
“Alright, baby, don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.” He promises.
You nod in return and he leans back down to your breast, sucking your nipple once more. You gasp when his fingers press against your slit through your panties, just noticing how wet they were.
“You’re soaked, honey.” He smiles up at you, his middle and ring finger rubbing up and down the slick spot on your underwear.
“W- what’s that mean?” You ask shyly.
“Means I’m doin my job right.” He explains.
You lick your lips and nod, watching as he moves his fingers up to your waistband. He watches your face as he slips his hand underneath the white fabric, calloused fingertips brushing over a special spot that makes you buck your hips.
“What was that?” You whine quietly.
“That’s your clit. Has a lotta nerves. That’s your best friend.” He smiles and then looks down, following your gaze.
He moves his middle finger over your clit again and you gasp.
“We’ll come back to her.” Joel smiles up at you before his finger is dipping lower, pressing against your entrance.
“Ever had anything inside?” He asks.
You shake your head.
“Alright. I’m gonna go slow. You tell me if you want me to go faster.”
“Okay.” You bite your lip.
He starts to insert a digit inside of you, slow, like he promised.
It feels… well, it’s certainly not bad. Not yet. You’ve heard though that the deeper something gets, the more it hurts.
He’s in to the first knuckle when you start to feel a slight stretch. It’s not painful, but you can tell that things are tight down there. You have no idea how you’d get a penis in there.
You clench your pussy around his finger as he starts to move it again.
“Relax, honey.” He coos.
You relax your muscles and spread your legs further. He keeps pushing until he’s to the second knuckle and then he stops to let you adjust.
“How’s it feel?” He asks.
“Like… pressure.”
“Doesn’t hurt?”
“No.” You smile.
“Good.” He grins back at you.
He starts to pull his finger out. You begin, “What are you- oh!” Then he cuts you off when he starts to push his finger back inside.
He does it again, and again, beginning to slowly thrust the digit in and out of you.
“That’s feels r- really good, Mr. Miller.” You sigh with pleasure.
“Good, baby. It’s s’posed to… I’m gonna keep pushing a little deeper each time, but you let me know if it starts to hurt, okay?” He raises a brow at you.
“Yes, Joel.” You smile, using his first name for the first time.
“Good girl.” He smiles back.
He keeps moving his hand back and forth, slowly getting deeper with each thrust. Eventually, he’s got his middle finger fully engulfed by your swollen pussy.
“It doesn’t hurt yet.” You explain.
“Good. I’m gonna do two fingers now, k?”
You nod, giving him permission.
He withdraws his middle finger and then lines up again with his ring finger next to it. He starts to push in and you immediately feel the stretch this time. Even at the first knuckles.
“Okay that- that feels like more.”
“Hurts?”
“No.” You shake your head.
He keeps pushing to the second knuckles, letting you adjust again.
“Starting to hurt. Just a little.” You explain.
“Alright. Trust me on this, you can stretch out. Just gotta work at it a little.”
“Okay.” You nod.
“You’re- I mean, Jesus, you’re plenty wet. Soakin my fingers down here.”
You blush again.
“That’s a good thing, darlin.” He smiles and starts to pull his fingers out before pushing them in to the second knuckles again.
He does this for a few seconds and he was right, the pain was starting to fade and turn into pleasure.
Before you know it, you’re asking him to go faster, Joel speeding his fingers up. Something is building inside you, a feeling you’ve never experienced before. But, god, it felt fucking amazing.
He’s able to get two full fingers inside you now as he’s thrusting them at a quick pace. His thumb moves to press against your clit and you almost scream at the way it feels.
“Baby, you gotta be quiet. Don’t wanna wake up the girls.” He says in a hushed voice.
You nod, biting back another sound. He leans in to kiss you, swallowing your moans as you feel yourself get closer to exploding. You knew what an orgasm was… you’ve just never had one.
“Joel-“ you cry against his lips. “Feels- ohhh fuck… it’s gonna happen.” You gasp.
“Alright, honey. I’ve got you. Don’t worry. You just enjoy it.” He breathes the words before kissing you again.
The shockwave finally hits you, sending your brain and body into a frenzy. Your legs shake and your hips buck, you’re moaning into Joel’s mouth helplessly, feeling liquid spread over his fingers and into your panties. You’re almost sobbing as Joel continues, eventually starting to slow his hand down.
He pulls back so you can breathe as hard as you need to, cunt still pulsing as he takes his fingers out of you. “You okay, darlin?”
You take a deep breath and nod. “Y- yeah. That felt really good.” You whine.
“You like feeling full like that?”
You nod frantically.
He laughs a little, nodding as he helps you pull off your now completely soaked panties. He throws them behind him, them landing somewhere on the floor next to the bed.
He rolls onto his back and removes his own underwear before reaching into his nightstand drawer and pulling out a condom. When he gets on his knees and moves between your legs, his cock bounces and drips down onto the bed.
“Is it gonna hurt?” You stare at his groin.
“Maybe at first. But don’t worry, honey, we’ll do the same thing. Take it nice and slow until you adjust.” He smiles and opens the condom, rolling it onto his hardness.
He tosses the wrapper aside and positions himself above you, leaning down to kiss you as one of his hands guides him to your entrance.
The head of his cock slides up and down through your wet folds, making loud wet noises. You blush a bit at how filthy it sounds. But it turns you on even more.
When his cock brushes over your clit, you reach for his shoulders to ground yourself and keep from being too loud.
All at once, it hit you. You were dangerously close to losing your virginity.
He senses your nervousness and looks up at you. “Hey, we can still stop. Don’t have to go through with it.” He hums against your lips.
“No, I want to. I want it to be you, Joel.” You kiss him.
He kisses back happily and then he’s pushing into you. You gently bite his bottom lip as you whine. He’s going so slow and it feels so good, so full.
“J- Joel…” you breathe against his lips, forehead pressed to his.
He pauses, almost halfway in. “Can I work you open, baby?”
You let out a shaky breath, hips rolling against his. “Yeah.”
He groans as he pulls out of you until the head of his cock catches your lips, then he’s pushing back in. He goes a bit deeper every time, still moving nice and slow so that you don’t hurt too much.
With each thrust in, you breathe a soft moan into his mouth. He’s swallowing your noises like it’s his last meal, his hand moving up from between your legs to cradle your face as he kisses you.
“You’re so-“ he groans. “You feel so good.”
“Y- you do too.” You whimper. “Please… go all the way in.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
He lets out a low moan as he pushes all the way inside now, sheathing his cock in your tight cunt.
It does hurt a little, but you’re so aroused you couldn’t care less. The pain and pleasure mix is making you dizzy. He pulls most of the way out before pushing all the way back in. You gasp at the feeling and dig your nails into his shoulders, clawing at the skin there. It only encouraged him.
He began to speed up, letting out little grunts as he thrusted. You kept making out all the while, swallowing each other's noises and trying not to be too loud.
After a few minutes, Joel’s hips were slapping against your thighs, the sound of it filling the room. He hooks his arms under your knees and lifts them up, getting even deeper as he keeps his fast pace.
“Ohh fuck. M- more. I- I need more, Joel.” You cry against his lips.
He reaches down and starts rubbing circles against your clit and that’s exactly what you needed.
You’re gasping for air as his hips start to stutter. “Baby I’m getting close.” He groans.
“M- me too.” You whine.
He rubs your clit even faster and then you’re tipping over the edge. You stifle a scream as you kiss him, orgasm hitting you like a train.
That’s all it takes to finish Joel off and he cums, thrusting especially hard as he did so.
You’re both panting, holding onto each other tight as he slows down. He pulls out of you and you whine at the loss.
After removing and tying the condom, he puts it in the little trash can next to the bed and lays down next to you.
His fingers trace up and down your side, his lips pressing kisses to your lips and cheeks as your breathing evens out. “Congratulations.” He whispers.
“Hm?” You hum against his lips.
“You lost your virginity.” He smiles.
“Yeah.” You laugh.
“You still feeling good about it?” He pulls back enough to look into your eyes.
You nod. “It was perfect.”
“Good.” He grins. “As much as I want you to sleep in here with me… I don’t know if you want your friends finding out about-“
“It’s okay.” You smile. “Can we just cuddle for a little bit before I go back to Sarah’s room?”
“Of course.” He nods and pulls you close. “I did have a question…”
“What?”
“Can I keep those panties of yours?” He blushes a little.
You grin, happy not to be the nervous one for a moment. “Yeah.”
**
The next morning you and the girls were downstairs enjoying breakfast when Joel walked down dressed and ready for work.
“Mornin girls.” He called out, smiling.
“Good morning Mr. Miller.” Everyone but Sarah called out in unison, making him chuckle. You got up from your seat and took your empty plate to the kitchen.
“Still have my number right?” Joel whispered.
“Yeah I do...”
“Feel free to send me a text any… time.” He whispered, giving you a wink. You tried so hard not to giggle and smile like a stupid school girl but you felt the heat rush to your cheeks, not really helping trying to hide your emotions.
“Didn't know you knew how to text.” You teased.
He looked around and saw the girls were still sitting at the table talking away. He leaned down to where you could feel his lips brushing against your ear. “There's a lot of things you don't know about me, baby doll.”
It felt like someone had poured ice down your shirt. Chills went up and down your spine and thankfully the new t-shirt you had on was a lot thicker than the tank top from last night, so Joel couldn't see how hard your nipples got just by the words he whispered to you.
He placed a soft kiss on your temple and made his way out to the dining room with you not far behind.
“Alright, I'm out. Shouldn't be home too late.” He said as he kissed the top of Sarah’s head.
“I'll be here.” She smiled.
“Bye, girls.” He waved as he walked towards the front door.
“Bye Mr. Miller.” You and the other two girls said in unison. He glanced back up at you one last time and made his way out of the house.
“God your dad’s so hot…” Heather muttered, making you all laugh and Sarah groan in disgust.
Joel tossed his work belt in the bed of his truck and made his way up front. He pulled out your panties from last night that he had tucked into the pocket of his jeans and wrapped them around his rear view mirror. He leaned back into his seat and chuckled at the sight of your pure innocent panties in his truck reminding him that he was the one that took away your innocence and purity. He fucking loved it.
He heard his phone go off in the seat next to him. He picked it up and saw your name pop up.
You: so when's the next lesson?
____________________________________________
Tag list: @evyiione @chyannealaniz @cesspitoflove @supersingle @dizzyforyou @jrosie25 @blackfemalenerd @bongsrconfusing @milly-louise
1K notes · View notes
buckysbabygorl · 1 year
Text
Punching Bag (Bucky Angst)
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Summary: As much as Bucky can't stand Y/N, he's tired of her taking all the blows on the field. They have to come up with a plan.
Word Count: N/A
“Get your hands off me.”
She shoved him away, as best she could given her state.
“I can do it myself.”
She took the med kit from his hands, in her drunken stupor she stumbled to the dining table, fumbling with the latches on the case.
Bucky was tired. All he wanted to do was sleep after a long—god awful---day and put the mission behind him.
He dropped his mission bag at the doorway.
“All you’re going to do is make it worse. I don’t need you waking up tomorrow complaining about your drunken hack job.”
She glared at him, pulling out supplies.
“Sober or not, I can stitch myself up fine. Just because I’m not an army vet doesn’t mean I don’t know basic field medics.”
She mumbled something more under her breath; probably dick or asshole, some of her common artillery when insulting him.
He didn’t need this. He really didn’t need this right now. Today had been hard, and for Bucky that was saying something. Whether it was being back in Russia, during its coldest and iciest period of the season; or being stuck with the person he loathed the most, he wasn’t sure what had triggered him.
But he was on edge and exhausted, and he wanted this night to end.
Then she had to go and get stabbed of all things, and now this dark hour was dragging on and on and on...
It was then Bucky realized that this sad excuse of a safe house would not give him enough space from her. It was a bachelor style apartment, something small enough that would never catch the eye of enemies, tucked away in an complex that was filled with much more shady individuals that them. There was a kitchenette, a dining table with two chairs, and a couch that pulled out. There was also a rickety old rocking chair, which looked far from comfortable.
This night wouldn't get any shorter.
“Ow.”
She stabbed her self softly with the needle, swaying slightly as she tried to stablize herself.
“Jesus Christ," Bucky said, "did you even wash your hands?”
“Fuck you.” She retorted.
His jaw tensed as he stopped himself from raising his hands, he wanted to tear his hair out strand by strand.
Why was she always so fucking argumentative?
“Would you stop saying that?”
He strode across the room, kneeling in front of her chair and grabbed her arm.
She attempted to pull away from him, which was stupid to do with a needle in hand.
“Let go.” She demanded.
She pulled back, hard, and Bucky gripped her forearm.
“Will you just—enough.” His voice stern and commanding.
She halted, slightly hazey and swaying. But she stopped.
Bucky let out a frustrated sigh.
“For once, can you just shut up and listen? For five seconds, can you do that?”
She blinked slowly at him, pursing her lips.
He recognized that look in her eye; it was always followed by a sly grin, a tilt of her head that said “what are you gonna do about it, Sergeant?”
This time, she slumped back into her chair. She relaxed her arm and used the other to shove the kit towards him.
“Fine. Do your worst. I don’t give a shit if you leave a scar.”
He waited a moment, to see if she’d say something more or change her mind, maybe smack his hand away one more time.
But she didn’t.
So Bucky picked up the needle and went to work.
She didn’t look at him while he stitched her up, remaining in her dead stare as she looked straight at the wall.
She winced a few times but said nothing.
After a few minutes, the quiet made Bucky’s skin itch.
“Why did you jump at her, anyways? I had it covered.”
Y/N closed her eyes, inhaling through gritted teeth.
Responding wasn’t worth the effort, so she shrugged.
“Really? You’re not going to say anything?” He asked.
She groaned. “Does it matter? Not like I can do anything about it now.”
He shook his head, continuing as if he hadn’t heard her. “--And downing a bottle of tequila won’t make you feel better.”
She bit the palm of her hand as he worked his way along her side.
Her breaths stuttered as she inhaled.
“Hurts less.” She mumbled.
He paused a moment.
He remembered what that felt like. How much these kind of things could hurt you. He could imagine the pain she was going through, he could see it in her face. But he tried to ignore it. He was still mad at her.
“I don’t get you. You do this every time, you’re not invincible you know—”
She slammed her hand on the table.
“I know that! Jesus, you tell me every time—AH!”
She pulled away from him, hurting herself as he had tightened a stitch.
He looked up as his hands steadied her, and his voice softened.
“Y/N, sit still...”
Her head was turned away from him, but he could still see the corner of her eye and the downturn of her lip.
He hadn’t realized she’d been crying.
He tilted his head down, biting on the inside of his cheek. Best to just get this over with.
“Just… sit still. I’m almost done.”
They fell into silence again. The winter snow was building up on the safe house windows, the wind pounding against the panes.
He tried to shut it out. But it was either listen to the howling storm or rehash the scenario in his brain.
Her voice came over his ear piece, she told him to watch his six; that agents were entering through the south wing of the building. He ignored her, he had it covered.
She must’ve taken his silence the wrong way; she figured he was in danger. She was like that, she’d assume the worst and abandon her post to cover. Fuck, why did she have to do that…
“Did you get a hold of Sam?”
Surprised by her question, Bucky looked up from his hands. She still wouldn’t turn to face him.
“Called him while I was walking back. Said he can get a jet in a 4 am. With the storm it’s hard to get here—”
She winced again. He groaned.
“Stop moving.”
She awed at the ceiling and clenched her hand into a fist.
“My god, would it kill you to have some sympathy?”
He tied off the suture and snipped the thread.
“I don’t have sympathy for idiocy.”
She scoffed, “Fuck you.”
Which she had said for the umpteenth time today.
He decided to ignore it. But he was still fuming, still angry at her… why, why would she do that?
He should’ve watched his six, he knew he should’ve.
They came up behind him, 4 out of the 6 agents had decided to cover his wing.
He was holding his own, but the one was smart. Patient. Waiting while the others hammered Bucky with brute force to deliver a fatal blow. She had been aiming for his right side, probably trying to stab between his right ribs or his into his spine…
“You know, normal people say thank you.” He nodded to her left side, where 10 stitches sat neatly in line.
“I could say the same thing to you.” Her words were icy, she nearly spat them at him.
Bucky scoffed. “Why should I thank you? I had it covered, you jumped in and now I have to patch your drunk-ass up—”
“I did it because it’s instinct. I saw my partner outnumbered and I saved your ass. Sorry it’s an inconvenience to you because I’m not a goddamn super soldier.”
The slam of his hand on the table made her jump, and her eyes went wide at the thought that he might actually make her shut up for once.
"You can't throw yourself in a fight where you'll get more hurt than I will."
His eyes faltered when he looked at her, "We... we talked about this Y/N--"
Silence fell between them again.
She fumbled with the bottle cap on the table, and Bucky stood still at her side.
He didn't know what more to say, and she didn't know how to respond.
Because he was right, they had talked about this before many times.
There were never tender moments between the two, but the closest they'd ever gotten to something like that was usually Y/N's recovery. They were paired together more often than not; aside from them loathing one another, they were extremely compatible.
But each time they teamed up, something like this happened.
Y/N would get stabbed, she'd get shot, she'd break a bone or two, she'd pick a fight that was out of her depths.
He'd get mad and so would she, then a day or two would pass and he'd watch her struggle with something. Whether it was taking the stairs, or doing her physio, or getting back into training...
Somehow they'd end up alone and they fell back into this same conversation.
You can't always put yourself at risk for me, I know you're skilled but there's situations where you need to be more careful.
She'd sit with it, and usually come back with the same response.
I know you're capable of taking more than most people, but it doesn't mean you get to be a punching bag. If my partner is in trouble, I'm going to step in.
There was never a solution made, because he was the immovable object and she was the unstoppable force.
In short, they were both too stubborn and too proud.
Normally, she wouldn't bring it up. But feeling brave, or drunk enough to be brave, she did.
"We're going around in circles, Barnes."
She didn't look up from the table, but he continued to stare.
"We can't fight about this every single time we go on a mission. We've requested to be separated, and that's not happening. So tell me what the fuck you want me to do, because I'm not just gonna take a seat every time it gets ugly."
He sighed, "What I'd like you to do is not be an idiot out there--"
"Hm," She took another drink, "And I'd like you to stop being an asshole."
His jaw clenched again. Every time with this girl...
"Do you not see where I'm coming from?" He gestured to her ribs, "Look at you, Y/N. How many scars is that now? From our missions alone?"
She shook her head, fiddling with the cap.
"I don't know Barnes, that's not the point."
She did know, it was nine now.
"The point is I'm not going to change my mind and neither are you. So figure it out with me instead of fighting me every chance you get. Pick a different fucking solution."
It seemed Bucky couldn't stop sighing, he wanted to walk away from this night and be done with it. But he knew they'd be back in this position a month from now, and a month after that, and so on.
So, begrudgingly, Bucky sat down at the table.
"Fine. If you won't stop being reckless--"
"--And you won't stop being a dick--"
He pointed at her, "Okay first. Stop doing that. I get you're frustrated but you swear at me a lot. I hate it. It feels like you try to pick a fight."
She went to speak, but all she could think of were insults involving curse words. He'd proven his point.
Her lip curled in a scowl, "Fine."
He nodded. "Okay."
She shifted to sit with her arms crossed on the table, eyes flicking up to him.
"Stop telling me I'm an idiot. And stop saying I'm reckless. You think it's reckless 'cause I'm not Steve or Thor, or whoever else was enhnaced on the team... just because I'm not like you guys doesn't mean I'm being stupid when I'm out there."
God, he wanted to fight her on that.
Different capabilities meant different actions in certain situations, at least in his eyes.
But he kept it to himself, at least they were starting to work on something.
"Okay..." He drew out the word, subtly saying he wasn't okay with it, but Y/N didn't care.
He could think what he wanted, but he didn't get to throw it in her face every time he wanted.
"I can't control what you do on the field." Bucky started, "You make your own calls and you... you know what you're doing out there."
Y/N smirked at the look of pain on Bucky's face, she know he hated to admit it. But she was damn good at her job.
"--but if there's a situation that I think you need to stay out of, respect me when I ask."
"What if I think I can handle it?" She questioned.
He lifted his hand off the table slightly, halting her to let him finish.
"If I need you, I'll tell you."
She rolled her eyes, "So I'm supposed to wait until my coach puts me in?"
His fists balled in frustration. "No, I'm saying be there but..."
He leaned back in his chair, looking up to the ceiling.
"I don't know, maybe we have a call sign when we both need each other."
He said that to appease her, he didn't think there would ever be a time he'd need her, but maybe she would need him. And at least it would keep her from jumping in and getting sliced to bits.
She snorted, "What, like a safe word?"
He huffed slightly, "I guess so, yeah."
That seemed to be enough conversation for her, as she stumbled out of her chair and clambered over to the musty pull out couch in the corner. She was still nursing that damn bottle in the crook of her arm.
Bucky sat, somewhat surprised that that was the end of it.
"I'm tired." She mumbled as she slipped onto the mattress, kicking her go-bag onto the ground.
I guess I'll take the floor, Bucky thought.
He raised his hands in an exaggerated shrug, his words laced with contempt. "Any thoughts on the safe word?"
Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose, already feeling the early effects of a hang over.
"Yeah," she muttered, "Punching bag."
Bucky waited for more from her, but after a few moments of silence, her snoring began and he accepted that as the end of their conversation.
It wasn't much, but it was a start.
He accepted his place in the awful rocking chair, but not before picking the bottle of tequila out from beneath her.
He took one final look at his patch up of her ribs, before settling into his seat, eagerly waiting for Sam's arrival.
~
They didn't speak more of their truce after that night, but there had been an unspoken agreement on both ends to keep their promise.
They'd be less hostile towards one another; and they'd work their roles independently during missions unless someone asked for help.
And, oddly enough, their "safe word" popped up more and more with each mission. It was easier than saying the words "I need your help", because both were so stuck in their pride to ever admit that. But "punching bag" worked just fine.
In fact, they had gotten so comfortable using it during their duo missions, that it became an oddity to the rest of the Avengers in team missions.
"Barnes, what's your location?"
"Intersection of Francis Street and Main."
"I'm west of Francis by one block. Alice Street. Punching bag."
Within less than a minute, he was there.
It was rare for Bucky to use it, but every so often he had.
One time, it had been used because Bucky's metal arm had adhered to the FOD magnetic sweepers of their combatant's tank.
Y/N had laughed when she arrived, but never brought it up afterwards.
That was another thing, an interesting development so to speak. In its month's of usage, "Punching bag" somehow became "come, no questions asked."
Sam, Joaquin and Sharon had all taken notice of this new addition to their lingo; but decided not to press it. Ever since it had been implemented, the two were actually getting along. Sam would argue they were somewhat friendly with one another.
It was a peaceful three months since their Russia mission, and the team was going to ride it out as long as they could.
~
Bucky felt numb. Which was bad, because usually that led to an anger spiral or a drawn out dissociation episode. Neither were good options for him.
It was a bad day. A really fucking bad day.
He had called his therapist, but at the fourth call with no answer, he had assumed she was asleep.
Of course she was, it was 2 in the morning.
Bucky tried to remember what she had taught him; their so-called "game plan" when things went south.
He didn't want to listen to music, he had tried going for a walk, he had tried using that dumb journal she recommened he'd buy but he couldn't write anything down.
Call someone, she had said, your line of work has a select few that understand what you're going through. And those select few happen to be your friends, you can lean on them . That's what they're there for.
He had hovered over Sam's contact for—about—15 minutes. But he didn't want to.
Some nagging feeling in the forefront of his mind pulled him back, to lean towards someone else.
He scrolled down, clicked the contact, and sent a quick message.
Punching bag.
And then he waited.
-
Bucky had left his location on in their group comms chat, and Y/N was surprised to see that he was in his own apartment.
Her mind jumped to an intruder holding Bucky hostage in his own home; or him being kidnapped, leaving his phone behind and it was the last message he had been able to send before being taken away.
She got paranoid like that. She was working it out in therapy, or whatever.
Bucky rarely used their safe word, which she resented him for, but when he did she knew it was serious.
She was there in 10 minutes.
Bucky heard shuffling outside his door; as stealthy as she was, he had the fortune of super-soldier hearing.
Then she gave their call sign, an additional one that was in early development. One knock, a pause, then four knocks.
You're, one syllable, an id-i-ot, four syllables
He'd respond back with two hard knocks to signal it was clear; two syllables for "fuck you".
Apparently their old habits died hard.
He had left the door unlocked, and she entered slowly.
With a quick scan of the room, she deemed the coast was clear. Even more surprising considering the text she had received less than 15 minutes ago.
She looked at him with question, "Our safe word is usually for emergencies, y'know."
He nodded, but said nothing.
She pursed her lips, more confused but coming in regardless.
"...Alright."
She slipped off her coat and kicked off her boots. She found it odd to see him on the floor, then noticing the pillow and blankets laid out on the hardwood, she realized that's how Bucky slept.
Late at night, she put two and two together; he'd tried to sleep and couldn't.
She folded her coat and sat down across from him.
She stayed silent, patiently waiting for him.
He continued to say nothing.
She waited for a few minutes longer, prompting him to give some sort of explanation for his text.
But again, nothing.
She clapped her hands once on her knees, and stood up. Bucky panicked, fearing she would leave---
"You got back at 10, right?" She asked.
Bucky was taken aback by her knowledge of his returning home, but nodded after his pause.
She hummed, "Okay. Have you eaten?"
"Uh--" Bucky thought for a moment, realizing he hadn't. "--No."
She nodded. It was a start.
"Okay. Then uh---I'm gonna get you some food."
After digging through the cabinets whilst Bucky sat on the floor, she mustered her supplies; butter, cheese, and bread.
Grilled cheese wasn't the fanciest of meals but considering the situation, it would have to do. Besides, she didn't know how to cook anything else.
5 minutes later, a plate plopped down in front of him, and she sat cross-legged as she started on her sandwich.
He watched her for a moment, before she looked up at him with a mouthful.
"Don't let good eatings go to waste Barnes," she wiped crumbs from her lips, "I put my blood, sweat and tears into this meal."
Shockingly, even to himself, Bucky laughed. And then he ate.
"I would've added onion," She said, "But you don't seem to have... many ingredients in your fridge, Buck."
He was surprised at her wanting to use onion, and even more surprised at her usage of his first name. But he let the latter slide.
"Onion?" He questioned.
She sent an odd look back at him, "What? You've never had onion in your grilled cheese?"
When he shook his head no, she went into a ramble.
"My god, you're missing out. I'll tell you this; one time, my Pops went into this diner, you see--"
Bucky felt himself smile as she went on, telling a story of her grandpa recommending the restaurant make it a special of the day, "grilled cheese with onion", and how it had been such a hit with the locals, that they gave her grandpa a free grilled cheese every day from that day on. Which was how she knew how to make it.
She told more stories about her grandpa, then about her family, and Bucky realized he'd never heard more about her in one sitting. In fact, he realized he had known nothing about her personal life the entire time they had been working alongside eachother.
He sat happily listening, grilled cheese in hand, and even took her up on seconds as she continued to talk.
Y/N figured that, sometimes, that's what someone needs. To fill the silence, to feel the normal, especially on days that were less than good.
And eventually, the other person would start talking too.
People need distraction. Sometimes they need to talk, they need advice, or they need help and action. But when someone needs you, and they can't find the words, talking of nothingness can be the best thing.
Y/N could be good at that, something Bucky never knew about her. And, something Bucky never knew he liked.
A silence fell over them, but not like before. Not the tense words-unsaid sort. But comfortable. She washed dishes and he sat on the floor.
She flicked her hands at the sink before drying them, Bucky wondered if she did that all the time.
"So," She said, "do you want to talk about it?"
The question might have been jarring to others, but to him it wasn't. Bucky just shrugged.
"I don't think so."
He didn't need to, he thought. This was enough.
She nodded. "Okay. Do you want me to go?"
He was shaking his head before he knew it, and she smirked.
Not the spiteful one she used to adorn with him, but more of a cheeky one. One a friend might give to another.
"Alright. Do you want me to stay?"
He picked at his ratty blanket he had tucked beside him.
"Kinda." He thought before adding, "If you don't mind."
She checked her watch, "I've got nowhere to be."
She said something about a deck of cards, and went to search his house, which for some reason he didn't mind.
She found a deck, Bucky hadn't known he owned one.
"So, I'm gonna teach you how to play King's Corners, kick your ass at King's corners, and then we're gonna talk about this bed situation which is unacceptable..." she trailed off in her teasing, and Bucky found himself laughing more.
She did teach him how to play, and he ended up kicking her ass, which she claimed was beginner’s luck.
She stayed all night.
More nights like that began to happen, sometimes Bucky spoke and sometimes he didn't.
Sometimes they fought, most times they didn't.
The fights happened less and less. The all-nighters happened more and more.
And Bucky noticed more things he liked. More than her grilled cheese, more than her comfortable ramblings, and soon he found there were more things he liked than not.
She trusted Bucky to hold his own on the field, and he tried not to be as protective of her, letting her choose her own actions. They found out that was what he was afterall, and she realized she had been too.
She had been staying longer and longer. The next thing they knew, she wasn't leaving at all.
~
@dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable
@dumb-ass-3
@cuddlycalcifer @babyblue-07 @babybluereads @lonewolf471 @agni-l @niiight-dreamerrrr @julipmoon @fandomsfallnomore @elliee1497 @godspeedlover @sexwithhiddlesbatch @annestine @shower-me-with-roses @yougottalovefandoms @rebekahdawkins @gentlybarnes @emmabarnes
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cultofdixon · 28 days
Text
A little pain with your pleasure
Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Adrenaline is a crazy natural drug and you’re driving them crazy with how calm you are • SFW/Small Angst • TW: Stab wounds
Requested by: Anon
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“What you got there?”
Glenn’s voice not only startled the poor guy but even cut through Daryl’s thoughts that he forgot for a split second what he had in his hand.
“A Walkman. Found one on a past run”
“Oh, neat. Did you find some cassettes for it? I think there’s like a box of them in the warden’s office but those could also be confessional tapes and I don’t think I wanna know about why a prisoner ended up in prison”
“Me neither. It’s for Y/N. I found some cassettes with it when I found it. Queen, Elton John,…I think there was a Micheal Jackson one. I don’t know.” Daryl scratches the side of his face as he thought about another cassette before shrugging it off. “It was broken when I found it and Sasha helped me fix it for her.”
“Well ain’t that awful sweet of you” Glenn smirks bringing himself to sit across from him on the picnic table. Daryl instantly glaring at the man knowing where he could be going. “I wanna be there when you give it to her. I know she’ll be super excited getting that from you”
“The fuck you mean by that?” Daryl snapped slightly as Glenn shrugged with a smirk. “Speaking of Y/N. Have you seen her?”
“I was actually gonna ask you the same thing. She said if she decided on a 3-Day run that she would help me with the south fence repair when she came back” Glenn sighs running his hand through his hair. “Think she’s out for a week?”
“Mm. Better not. She promised me she’d help with the snares”
“Oh she promised you but didn’t promise me? Obviously she likes a certain someone more than me” He really didn’t catch the hint that Daryl hated the teasing and the glare made him realize he should stop before he’s tossed into a walker. “Okay fine. Mind helping me with the fence and I’ll help you with the snares”
Daryl sighs, nodding picking up the Walkman and going to put it away before helping Glenn with the fence.
After a while, the fence was done, and the two split into the nearby woods to check the snares at a faster pace compared to doing it together. Even if Daryl would’ve spent hours in the woods if it meant being with Y/N.
Daryl made his way toward the snares closer to the front gates, liking to go from the furthest to the closest snares so he could head right in when he’s done. But he was also going to check Glenn’s work on setting up the traps back up. He suddenly halted when he heard footsteps, causing him to ready his crossbow for a walker but relaxed when the bloodied dirty figure came into view.
“Jesus Christ”
“What?” Y/N laughs nervously. “Is there something on my face?”
“Yeah blood and dirt” Daryl scoffs bringing himself close, resting his hand on her cheek brushing off some of the dirt from her cheek. “The fuck happen on your run?”
“Oh that’s a great story so—-“
“Y/N!” Glenn shouted her name while also making it clear of his presence coming up behind Daryl and eventually to his side. “What took you so long getting back?!”
“Well it’s uh a short story—-“
“Glenn I just asked them about the run. Did yea finish the snares on your side?”
“Yeah I did, now Y/N?”
“Yeah…how was the run?”
“Well I got stabbed in the back” Her expression tensed watching the two start their lines of questioning. But every chance she tried to correct she kept getting cut off.
“What do you mean you got stabbed in the back?”
“Let me start with how it hap—“
“Where is this guy? I thought you went on the run alone”
“I did go alone Im trying—-“
“This guy is dead meat if he tries to come after yea. Plenty of fighters here” Daryl stated as Glenn nods in agreement.
“Who would turn on you? Maybe it was—-“
“SHUT UP!” Y/N shouted, resulting in a wince that definitely confused the two. But her face returned to the discomfort it had before running into Daryl. “I got literally stabbed in the damn back” she turned to show the two the knife that was embedded deep in her shoulder.
No more words were said. All Daryl did was smack Glenn forcing him in the direction of the gates to get them opened. Y/N frowns watching him bring himself to her back to feel around the wound before, without warning, rip her flannel open and forced her to take it off.
“You owe me!”
“Just wait til we get inside. Hershel is gonna want to see it and he’s gonna have to cut your shirt anyway”
“Doesn’t mean you had to rip my favorite flannel!” Y/N shouted as Daryl watched her back tense and the knife shift.
“Stop shouting and let’s get yea inside” Daryl scoffs taking her pack from her and directing her back to the prison.
While Hershel stitched her up, Y/N was telling them the story of how it happened. How this stranger that passed the 3 questions decided to just turn on her and try to kill her for her stuff. It wasn’t a pretty scene and given how Y/N felt about killing people, she was only late in her return because she didn’t want to come back feeling the way that she did. That part she didn’t tell them. She just fibbed by saying she lost the car she had. After being patched up, Y/N made her way back to her cell in need of clean clothes and a shirt that isn’t in pieces.
“Hey”
Y/N stopped right before her cell to acknowledge Daryl. “Hey”
“Your back feelin’ any better?”
“Having stitches suck” She laughs it off, no longer wincing from her back. “Maybe next time I’ll bring you on the run”
“I’ll keep yea safe” Daryl murmurs, leaning against the metal doors as Y/N brought herself close leaning with him.
“Next time the knife will be in your back” She jokes receiving a breathy chuckle in response. “You know I’m kidding…I’ll always have your back out there Dar” she whispers as she brought her lips to his cheek keeping her hand planted on his chest. “Thanks for worrying about me”
Before she pulled away too far, Daryl gently grabbed her waist pulling her into him. He admired her features for a moment then planted his lips firmly onto hers. Y/N was taken back but relaxed almost instantly, bringing her arms around his neck keeping him close.
When they parted, Daryl pulled away a little while taking the torn shirt from her hands.
“I’ve got a surprise for yea. But I also have a shirt…we just. Need to go to my cell for both”
Y/N couldn’t contain her smile as she took his free hand. “Lead the way Dixon”
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houseofripley · 2 months
Text
Hotel Hell - Part Two
Rhea Ripley x Fem!Reader
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WARNINGS: SMUT, 18+, Fighting, Shoving, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, MAKEUP SEX
WORD COUNT: 3,812
A/N: omg i am sorry this took me years to finish, life has been busy but it should calm down soon. i got such a good request the other day and i haven't gotten it off my mind so i will start that tmrw if i have time. also i proofread this at 2am so please ignore any mistakes lol
“The Brutalization Chamber? You want to know what The Brutalization Chamber is?” The Irish man laughed out, his eyebrows raising once you turned your gaze towards him. 
An expression of curiosity displayed on your face as you repeated the name of the supposed ‘chamber’. It was obvious to the man that you wanted to know more.
The man began making his way down the stairs, “No offense sweetheart…but I don’t really think this is the place for a girl li-” He tried to speak before being cut off.
What the hell is that supposed to mean?
“I don’t really care what you think sir, I want you to show me what's down there.” You chirped out, following the male down the flight of stairs, your hand hovering over your aching ribs.
“Well shit, if you insist,” The guy chuckled out, “Feisty, she’ll like you.” He muttered under his breath as he opened the door. 
She’ll like you…was he talking about the same ‘she’ you had spent your night with? The same woman who just got done unleashing pure cruelty onto you? The same woman who disappeared into this exact building moments ago?
“Name’s Finn by the way,” He mentioned, “It’s just us, the big boss is probably around here somewhere as well.” Finn spoke as you scanned the room looking for ‘the big boss’.
Grimy was the only way to portray the room. Rope lights scattered across the ceiling, some were dim while others flickered. There were freezing concrete walls with cracks littered all over. A red neon sign displaying the letters ‘TBC’. A blood stained ring sat taking up a quarter of the room. Various pieces of gym equipment and punching bags were compressed into a room off to the side. 
“So…just a gym?” You questioned the man, there was no sign of Rhea.
“Nah, it’s a little more than just a gym love…think of it as a fight club. A fight club with a fuck ton of money involved.” Finn stated leading into a room the size of a walk-in closet, the room seemingly being a pathetic excuse of a nurses office. 
You leaned against the door frame while Finn babbled on as he started unpacking his bag, “People come to us in desperate need for money. They’re entered into our roster, put in the ring and bet on. If they win their match they get fifty percent of all bets placed. Bunch of sick wealthy men love wasting their fortune on this shit.”
“Don’t you think this is just a tad bit illegal?” You chuckled, sending a small wave of pain to your ribs.
“Eh I don’t worry about that too often,” Finn shrugged, digging around his duffle. “Rhea’s not too worried about the legalities when there's this much money involved, she can pay her way out of damn near anything.”
Rhea.
Despite your pain you perked up at the mention of Rhea’s name although you stayed silent.
“Rhea would like you, you’re quiet but there's just something about you, like there’s a fire inside you.” Finn mentioned, pointing at you. “I would introduce you to her but earlier this afternoon one of her top guys lost her like seven thousand. She stormed off to god knows where. Another one of her main guys has a big match in about half an hour. Going up against some new kid we’ve never seen so I’m sure she’s busy worrying her ass off.”
You heard a scoff echo from the main room as footsteps approached. “Jesus fucking christ Finn! Do you ever shut your goddamn mouth?” You heard Rhea sarcastically laugh trying to cover her anger.
You slowly turned to face Rhea, examining her tensed jaw and narrowed eyes. Reality had finally washed over you. The weight of Rhea’s actions flooded into your brain. You couldn’t figure out if you felt more betrayal or anger in the moment.
“Ah! Rhea mate!” Finn exclaimed, trying to divert from Rhea’s critiques. “I was just telling this young lady how much you’d like her…I never caught her name though.” 
Your face turned to the ground as you tried to mutter out your name. “We’ve met.” Rhea butted in, her voice was fully flat-devoid of any sign of emotion. That’s when the regret hit you. 
You shouldn't have come here.
“I should leave…it seems you guys have a busy night.” You muttered quietly. Rhea took a firm grasp on your forearm, “That can wait, let’s go have a chat.” Rhea said as her head motioned towards what you assumed to be her office.
“No, I-I can come back another time, I really don’t want to be a bother.” You barely managed to stutter out while Rhea’s middle and pointer finger of her opposite hand guided your chin up, forcing you to look at her. “I said let’s go have a chat.” Rhea commanded, her grip on your arm tightening. 
You reluctantly followed the woman as she dragged you in the direction of her office. You knew you were in for it big time.
“You are a fucking insane bitch! What could have possibly made you think it was okay to fucking show up to this place?!” Rhea lashed out at you the moment the latches of her door clicked together. She dropped your arm before shoving you towards the other side of the room. You had been lucky enough to catch your balance as you were just inches away from barreling into the concrete walls.
“I just wanted to learn more! I wanted to figure you out Rhea! Can you blame me for wanting to figure out why you’re so angry and cruel every time I see you?” You said loudly, your voice filled with hurt.
“That doesn't give you the goddamn right to follow me to where I work! You don’t fucking get it, these people I work with are dangerous and I don’t want you getting caught up in this bullshit!” Rhea retorted out as her breaths began picking up speed.
“What makes you think I’m so incompetent that I’m incapable of being around danger?! You put me in danger nearly every fucking time I see you! ” Your hands flew around as you yelled at the woman, tears accumulating in your eyes. 
Rhea began inching towards you, a look of irritation covering her face. “I don’t fucking put you in danger!”
“Yes you fucking do! You have no idea how many bruises you’ve left me with. The other month you choked me till I passed out, yet you didn’t stop fucking me to check if I was okay! For fucks sake Rhea, an hour ago you left me bleeding and collapsed to the floor!!” All hell had broken loose between the two of you as your tears started escaping from you.
“You told me you could take it! I don’t get why you’re bitching and moaning all of the sudden.” Rhea continued arguing.
Your fist crashed down onto Rhea’s nearby desk, “I can take it rough, but you can’t keep disappearing after being borderline torturous! You’re so damn immature!!” Your screaming matched showed no signs of stopping anytime soon.
“I’m immature? You’re the one that followed me to my job and is throwing a tantrum right now!” Rhea’s voice thundered around the room. 
“You don’t get it Rhea! I’m a fucking person and you dont give a shit about me! Why don’t you fucking care?!” You yelled through broken sobs as you started unleashing your sadness and anger onto Rhea, pushing and beating on her chest. 
Rhea made no attempt to stop you. She made no moves, just allowing you to inflict your pain onto her. 
Once your hands had dropped to your sides in exhaustion and your breaths became heavier as you tried calming yourself down Rhea quietly mumbled, “I do care…”
“But you don’t…” You looked up at her with wide eyes, lifting your shirt. You exposed your aching torso displaying your cut up skin, dried blood pooled around your laceration and the letters of Rhea’s name carved into your skin. “Someone who cares doesn't do this and run away.” You quietly said, your voice strained from the screaming match.
The regret in her eyes was apparent as she darted her eyes away from you. The realization she had gone too far had hit her hard, feeling as if she was being crashed into by an eighteen-wheeler. 
Her vulnerability was short lived, Rhea quickly repressed her display of emotion, replacing it with her regular cold and emotionless stare. She had to put on her tough guy attitude. It was her only safety blanket. Emotions are for the weak, Rhea could never be weak.
“You get worse every time I see you, something has to change Rhea…” You breathed out, trying to articulate your speech as you lowered your shirt back down. “If you can’t fix this behavior I’m done.” 
“You know you don’t mean that.” Rhea sighed as she ran her hand through her black hair. She didn’t want to lose you but she could never admit that. “I need to think about…everything. Just give me a some t-” 
Rhea was cut off by a deep voice from outside the door. “Ten minutes till the bell Rhea.” Rhea rolled her eyes and made her way to the door, “Just give me some fucking time Damian! And go get a roll of gauze from Finn. Quickly.” Rhea demanded after opening the door just a sliver. 
You clenched your jaw as you sensed Rhea’s levels of anger were once again rising. The last thing you wanted was to end up back at square one with her. You couldn’t handle another argument with her. Not tonight at least. 
The pair of you stood in silence as you waited for the man to return. Once he had arrived he opened the door, handing Rhea the roll of fabric. His eyes curiously examining you through the crack in the door. 
“I’ll be out in a minute…” Rhea aggressively muttered before closing the door. She mumbled your name under her breath before walking to her desk.
 “You’re lucky Finn showed up early, only God knows what could have happened to you if one of the other guys showed up before him.” Rhea grunted as she unlocked a drawer and began rummaging through the mess inside. 
What is it about her?
“Why such a dark line of work? What made you choose this of all things?” You questioned, you were terrified to set her off but on the other hand you wanted to push for answers from her. It was the only way to get your foot into the door of her life.
Rhea stumbled her way towards you avoiding eye contact, a tube of antibacterial gel in her hand as she shrugged. “Not something you choose. You’re born into it and can’t escape it, you just have to accept it and make the best out of it.” She mumbled while she lifted your shirt up. 
Rhea applied a small glob of the antibacterial gel to her finger while she lowered herself to her knees, becoming face to face with your shredded skin. The woman began dabbing the gel onto your skin causing  you to let out a small hiss from the pain.
Once she finished applying all of the gel she wiped the residue from her fingers onto her pant leg and grabbed the roll of gauze. Rhea cleared her throat before speaking up, “Just stay in here for a while, I can take you home after this match.”
“I’m perfectly capable of walking home by myself, Rhea.” You stated, watching Rhea carefully wrap the gauze around your waist.
“I’m walking you home and that’s final.” Rhea stood her ground, “Seriously though, just stay in here. I’ll be back.”
You weren’t planning on fighting about this with her, deciding to keep your mouth shut you let her take the win. “Fine, whatever.” You gave in as Rhea tied a knot in the gauze to hold it in place. 
“Shouldn’t be more than twenty minutes.” Was all Rhea had said as she stood up. Nothing else left her lips as she exited the room. 
No apology?
You groaned as you sat down in Rhea’s large chair. You blankly stared at the wall for several minutes before your mind started to wander. Exploring anything that popped into your head. Places, things, people, Rhea. 
If you were being honest with yourself you were doubting the woman's ability to change her ways. You assumed she would most likely be this way her whole life, although you prayed she had it in herself to change. She had the potential to be great if she would put her pride aside.
It wasn't long until the cheers of the crowd on the opposite side of the door had started drowning out your thoughts. 
You wanted to catch a glimpse of the madness. You stood up from the large chair, your feet scuffing the ground as you strolled to the door
You cracked the door open, taking a peek of the ring surrounded by a flock of rowdy men that were yelling. The large man you made eye contact with earlier was in the ring brutalizing a much smaller guy who couldn’t even be older than twenty-five. He was putting on one hell of a fight but it was clear he stood no chance.
Rhea was the only woman there, she was stood right against the ring watching intensely. She had caught your image in the corner of her eyes. Her face turned in your direction, she tilted her head as if she was asking you what the hell you were doing.
You mouthed the word sorry to her before quickly closing the door. 
Fifteen excruciatingly boring minutes had passed, the cheers had dispersed into muffled conversations. Rhea had finally arrived back in her office. She seemed content which you enjoyed. 
“You ready to go?” Rhea asked, you answered with a simple nod.
As the two of you made your way out of the building Rhea exchanged goodbyes with some of the strange men.
The entire walk was silent, the both of you reflecting on the weird night you had been through together. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, it was almost peaceful. Having Rhea in your presence when she was somewhat calm was pleasant. You wanted to hold onto this peacefulness for the rest of your life.
It took you by surprise when Rhea insisted on taking you directly to your door instead of just dropping you off in the front of the large building and ditching. 
“You didn’t need to take me all the way up here.” You quietly mumbled as you unlocked the door to your apartment. “Lot’s of bad people around this time of night.” Rhea muttered as your door swung open. 
You turned around to face the woman, her eyes peering over your head, scanning the entry of your apartment. “There’s bad people around all times of the day. I’m used to it.” You said quietly, her eyes returning to you.
An awkward silence filled the air as the both of you gazed upon each other. Rhea began rubbing her neck, “Uh…I should go. I’m gonna go.” She feebly stated before turning away from you, quickly walking down the hall. She had stormed off before you could even speak up.
Still no apology?
Multiple days had passed. Rhea had made no contact yet. You spent a concerning amount of time just staring at Rhea’s contact in your phone, debating if you should press the call button. Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.
She’d call if she cared enough.
It felt as if life had paused, your days seemed empty. The busy streets of New York City felt devoid of any livelihood. The live music that took place at work sounded muffled. The flavor of your favorite foods had been stripped away. Once colorful flowers sold down at the street market now sat dull.
Days just painfully repeated. 
Tonight you had the night off, your only plans were to stare out the window of your bedroom and pray for a text from Rhea. 
You sat criss-cross at the edge of your bed twiddling your thumbs, your mind seemingly empty as you stared into the windows of the skyscraper across the street when the sound of a knock echoed down your short hall.
Groaning in annoyance as you got up you began making your way to the door, chewing the inside of your cheek as your feet shuffled below you. 
You weren't sure who you were expecting to be in the hall but it completely caught you by surprise when you swung the door open to see the dark haired woman waiting for you.
Without a word Rhea launched herself onto your lips, the force causing you to be pushed back a few inches.
Jesus Christ.
This felt like more than just a kiss, it had an intense amount of passion intertwined into it. Rhea’s hands gripped onto your waist as you backed into the apartment, her foot kicking the door behind her closed.
She had never kissed you in this way before. Before tonight you had only received measly pecks while the two of you had sex. It was never emotional.
Rhea slowly pulled away from your lips, both of your breaths were heavy as she finally spoke, “Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Finally.
“God, I’ve treated you like shit and I have been such a dick. It’s been the only thing on my mind. You don’t deserve that, It’s not okay.” Rhea began rambling as you stared into each other's eyes. “I get it if you never want to see me again but please just give me a chance, I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll get my temperament under control, I’ll go to therapy, whatever you say I will do it.”
“Rhea-” You whispered, trying to calm her down but she continued her rant. 
“I want to know you, more than just your body. I wanna know everything, The good, the bad, the boring…I wanna know what pisses you off and what makes you cry. I don’t know why I kept you a stranger for so long and I’m sorry for that.”
You led Rhea into your small living room as you listened to her rambling. You took a seat in your chaiser lounge and ushered her to sit in front of you as her speech continued on. “I don’t know why I ran away…I think it's cause I didn't want to hurt you. But I did hurt you, so badly. I don’t want to run away anymore, I had no right to ever hurt you the way I did, just for me to leave you alone right after. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever done and I’ll never forgive myself for it. It’s just that I-”
“Rhea!” You slightly raised your voice causing Rhea to finally close her mouth. You leaned closer to her, placing a quick and gentle kiss on her lips. “You’re okay, don’t worry.” You comforted the woman, softly chuckling.
“I didn’t interrupt your night did I?” Rhea asked, slightly nervous as she scootched up closer to you. You shook your head no as a smile creeped on your face.
It didn’t take long for the two of you to end up in a heated makeout session, your hands roaming over one another's clothing. Rhea groaned your name against your lips before pulling back just a few centimeters. 
“Please let me show you how sorry I am.” She practically pleaded, her eyes full of desperation, “Yes please” you quietly giggled, your eyes adoring the woman's face. The second Rhea heard the word yes echo from your mouth her lips went straight for your neck, causing a whimper to escape from you. 
Rhea took her time as she kissed upon your neck, carefully leaving soft love bites every so often, marking the skin a flushed pink shade. Her lips only leaving your skin as she pulled off your sweater before she began peckering kisses against your collarbones.
Her hands crept behind your back, unclasping your bra and pulling it from your chest. Your fingers grazed upon Rhea’s tense shoulders as she left a path of kisses down your torso.
As Rhea’s face reached the base of your stomach, her eyes fixated on your face as if she was asking for your blessing. You gave her a nod before lifting your hips into the air, allowing her to slide your sweatpants off your legs. 
 “Rhea, please,” You whined out while Rhea’s fingers toyed with the seam of your panties. Rhea grinned to herself as she slowly shed the final layer of clothing off your body. 
The woman wasted no time connecting her mouth to your heat, causing you to let out a breathy moan. “So fucking beautiful…” Rhea praised against your skin.
Truthfully, her tongue felt like heaven as it worked its way around your wetness. Rhea didn't want to rush you. This wasn't for her, she just wanted to make sure you knew she had the ability in her to change for the better.
Your breaths picked up their pace as Rhea’s hand inched its way closer to your core. Her ring and middle finger traced a circle around the perimeter of your entrance before slowly being pushed into you.
“Shit,” You whined out, your back arching as both Rhea’s tongue and digits worked their magic on you. Although you enjoyed roughhousing with the woman, you undoubtedly appreciated the amount of care Rhea was putting into you.
You were a whimpering mess under Rhea’s touch, and she loved every small sound that escaped from your mouth.
“More! Please, I can take it!” You begged for more of her. Rhea obliged, sliding her pointer finger into your tightness causing you to roll your eyes back as her fingers filled your insides.
“That’s it baby,” Rhea preached quietly when your hips began to rock against her fingers, your moans filling the room. “Such a good girl for me.” She added on before her tongue got back to sailing over your clit, her fingers picking up their pace.
Your legs tightened around Rhea’s head as your orgasm quickly approached. “C’mon sweet girl, let go.” Rhea’s encouraging words were muffled, your walls clenched around her curling fingers. 
“Fuck Rhea!” You squealed out as the knot that filled your stomach released onto Rhea’s fingers. Your hips twitched into the air as the fingers inside of you helped you ride out your climax. 
Rhea was grinning ear-to-ear as she slowly pulled her fingers out of your hole. She groaned in pleasure, licking her fingers clean. 
She soon brought her face to meet yours, her plumped lips giving your jaw a kiss before whispering in your ear.
“How’s that for an apology, hm?”
Chapter Taglist: @babybatlover @whiteleoqueen @luvvleah @lovingperson1
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Note
I saw the requests for fics were open I just need to ask if it's ok to put one in and if it's ok to have an x reader even if platonic bc honestly I'm in a mood lol and I am craving LER ALASTOR idk why and I love your fics and you are a great writer
Author's note: EVERYTHING I NEEDED WAS AN IDEA AND WHEN YOU POSTED THAT ONE PROMPT I WENT
I KNOW WHAT I GOT TO DO NOW.
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"Good night"
Summary: You were struggling to sleep that night, so in defeat, decided to just give up and stay up all night. Sadly for you, Alastor didn't exactly approved your idea.
Warnings: Swearing.
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Bags under your eyes would appear if you didn't go to sleep, and you knew it pretty well. It sucks, really sucks, but laying down on your bed doing nothing and being unable to finally take a good night of sleep sucks the double of those two combined.
As much as the TV wasn't that entertaining, it was enough to keep you awake and slightly less bored.
3AM, still nothing. You took a nap on the couch, but then woke up again. Did you actually took a nap? Or did you brain just turned off? Not sure, not bothered enough to care.
But, suddenly, something else finally got your eyes off of the screen.
"And what are you doing down here so late?"
The sudden voice made you stop on your tracks, jump even, as it came right after hours of silence.
"Jesus fucking Christ Alastor, I almost had a heart attack!" You took a deep breath, calming yourself down. "I'm just watching TV."
Alastor looks to the TV with the corner of his eyes, squeezing them slightly to show his displeasure. "Those things can be quite unhealthy at this time, my dear. Why don't you just turn this off and go to sleep?"
"Because I don't wanna and I can't sleep." You didn't even wanted to sound abrupt, but your filters slowly disappear when you grow more and more tired.
"Now that's just rude." Replied, not offended at all but rather keeping this in his mind for later. "Can't sleep, you say? Well, I have a solution for that." He added with a confident grin.
"...does it include hitting my head onto a wall to knock me out or something?"
Alastor stared at you with a blank face, blinking a few times. "Two solutions."
You rolled your eyes and finally sat, raising an eyebrow. "What solution?"
Alastor lets out a snicker, and with a single snap of his fingers, both of you are back on your room. You fell on your bed a bit too aggressively, but it's not like he cares.
"We only need to get rid of that energy of yours. I'm sure it'll be as easy as pie, you're already almost falling asleep."
"Uh... okay... and what's your plan, exactly?"
Your question made him look at you mischievously, which startled you and already made you let your guard up.
"Alastor-"
But before you could react, something pinched your side right behind you. As you looked, it was one of Alastor's little creatures. Is that a little man? A doll? A little demon? A pet? Whatever this thing is, made you flinch with a single touch.
And just like Alastor could spawn one of those, getting more of them needed the exact same effort.
"What are those??"
"Oh, I never really gave them names, so call them whatever you want. They're also harmless."
Three of them surrounded you, poking your upperbody in different spots while giggling.
"H-Hey! Gehehet off!" They may be weird but also looked weirdly adorable, what made you hesitated on pushing them away. "Thehehey're tick-"
But you stopped yourself right away. It got the other demon's attention, since your fit of giggles was definitely not the cause of the sudden hold up.
"Did you just interrupted yourself?" He asked teasingly, leaning towards you with a more bratty smile.
"Whahahat?! Nohohoho!"
Alastor shrugged, throwing his staff lightly from one hand to another. "If that's the case, I must have misunderstood. After all, there's no reason for you to not say 'tickle'." His head turned back to you, curiously. "Correct?"
As they keep tickling you, you ended up falling on the bed, rolling back and fourth as a poor attempt to escape. "ShuhUHUHUT UP!"
The deer chuckled at your reaction to it. "Oh, I'm not the one who should! Your volume may wake up someone in the hotel."
"Thehehen STOHOP!"
Your words entered his ear and leaved the other, or even worse, didn't even entered in any at the first place, as everything he did was look at his nails.
"I can't, I already promised to help. It is getting you tired after all-"
"FUHUHUHUCK!!"
Your tone suddenly increased in a... huge volume. More than he expected, what startled the guy. Wanting or not, if anyone wakes up he'll end up getting in trouble aswell, so he's thinking twice about his plans.
However, something is off for him. Once you lay down, you didn't got up again nor tried to. It definitely isn't bothering you as much as it looks like, and this fact did not make it worse for himself. More likely to be the opposite, as an encouragement.
The inner conflict was agonizing to keep, and Alastor's eyes show that. With a sigh mixed with a humming, he snaps his fingers, finally sparing you from the shadows.
Your laughter slowly died down, and without realizing, your face shifts to one of disappointment.
"Hah... heh... what..?"
The taller one sits by your side, avoiding visual contact but, for some reason, not the physical one.
Before you could react, Alastor quickly recomposed himself, looking at you with a cheeky grin once again while his own hand touches your stomach.
"It is unfair for me to get punished because of your sensitivity, so I'll try something lighter this time."
The demon's fingers began to scratch, but not hurt, tickling you in a slow yet surprisingly effective way. You grabbed his wrist, but didn't have the courage to take it off as you knew it would come to an end if you did.
Your chuckles, snorts, cackles, any noises you would make, would spread the room as long as he wanted, and the silence would only return once you're finally asleep.
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k4ulitzs · 5 months
Text
For me? ~ Tom kaulitz
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fluff.
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I sat cross-legged on the bed in one of the compact rooms inside the tourbus. Gently pressing my concealer into my skin with a sponge. Making sure my makeup looked good for tonight. I looked in the mirror at my finished and perfectly blended concealer before I picked up my mascara, and untwisting the wand. Before I could apply it, I hear heavy footsteps trudging my way.
"baby?" tom whispers, poking himself through the door, his expression softening once he saw me. Raising an eyebrow, "yeah?" I responded, smiling at him. "what colour are you wearing tonight?" he said, his voice low. I wondered why he asked me, cause it wasn't usual of him to do so.
For tonight, I had found the perfect dress. It was a thigh high, perhaps higher, skin tight red dress with long lace see-through sleeves, and a dip in the back, as does the front, obviously showing my cleavage. It fit me perfectly, though I was unsure if tom would approve.
"red, why?" I turned my head to the side slightly, squinting one eye a little.
He gave a knowing smirk, me still not clicking in what he was up to, so I went along with it. "no reason, your makeup looks beautiful, by the way." he smirks, speaking in a now seductive tone. He moved, slipping out the door. I let out a sigh, unsure of what all that was about, and I continued my makeup.
About half an hour of me, Bill, Gustav and Georg waiting, all sat on the sofa, our patience slipping for tom. He always dressed nice though, so it often took him a while to pick out an outfit.
"jesus fucking christ, what are you doing tom?!" bill huffed, making it clear that it was not only me getting pissed at how slow tom was being. "tom, can you please hurry u-" my words were soon cut short when he suddenly opened the bedroom door, and walked out. Holy shit.
I looked him up and down, he was dressed in red. Just like I told him what colour I was dressing in. Red baggy shirt, with baggy jeans, a red hoodie, which he had unzipped, his long dreads tied up into a ponytail as usual, his lip ring shining in the light, and a red cap to finish off the matching theme. Everyone else sighed, finally getting up off the sofa and walking towards the door, and walking out, leaving me and Tom standing, our gazes inking into eachothers. Surprised that he had not disapproved of my outfit.
He let out a soft giggle, his hands in his pockets and his head lowering as he did, clearly blushing as I could see a pink tint form on his cheeks. I let out a small 'awe', and it's true, I was really in awe. "baby? All this for me?" I smile, it atleast reaching my cheeks, feeling them grow warm.
He looked up, those beautiful pools of brown melting into my eyes. "yeah schatz, all for you."
He takes a few steps towards me, his hands snaking around my waist and pulling me closer. He rested his forehead against mine before giving the tip of my nose a bunch of small kisses, leaving me giggling. His lips landed on mine, fitting together in a passionate kiss.
We both pulled back a little, noses still touching. "I love you." I whisper, watching his lips curve up into a smirk. "I love you too baby." he responds with the same amount of love in his voice as I did mine.
We stay in eachothers embrace, only to jump in fright from bills voice calling us.
"hurry up you two! You can stare at eachother later!"
~
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Hope you liked this🙏🏼 English is not my first language so there might be mistakes😭 luv u, feel free to leave any requests!! <3
Please know that this is inspired!! This original concept is not mine. cr goes to 'evieskiesss' <3
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