#X-tra Naked
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Next Door to Love
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (Neighbor AU)
Word Count: 3,188
Summary: When you made the move to the city you never expected your new neighbor to be so sweet and helpful...or hot.
Author's Note: Because why not! Moving in across the hall from Bucky would be a dream, one I'd like to live out please and ty haha! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy!🥰
Warnings: fun and flirty, teasing and tension, a curse or two or three, Bucky is impatient and cocky in the best way!
Last week
Your tired, fuzzy slipper clad feet drag along the floor as you trudge toward the door across the hall. You’re hoping someone is home. Someone who has sugar. Anyone.
You let out a quick exhale and lift your chin before rapping your knuckles against the wood. A frown starts to mar your forehead when you hear a sleepy mumble come from inside the apartment.
Shit, fuck, shit you woke him up. It’s a guy. Of course it is…because you don’t look like you just rolled off your mattress that still has no bedframe and tripped over twenty-five unopened boxes…etc, etc.
The door swings open revealing said guy…a hot-as-fuck guy. Naked, except for his unbuttoned jeans.
Oh hi neighbor.
Before you can stop it, your gaze instantly drops to the dark trail of hair below his bellybutton, framed by a set of abs that you could dry your laundry on.
You reel yourself in and lift your eyes to his which does nothing to help your declining focus. His hair is perfectly mussed from sleep, his chiseled jaw shadowed with dark stubble and his incredible blue eyes lined by dark lashes.
His hands are planted on either side of the door frame and with every passing second you’re mesmerized by flexing muscles in his chest and arms.
He drags a lazy hand through his unkept hair and smiles. Knowingly. Smugly.
“Can I help you doll?”
“Um…hi. I’m sorry if I woke you…it’s just…I moved in yesterday and haven’t gone shopping yet and I have no sugar. I need my coffee.”
“So you’re my new neighbor,” he croons. “Lucky me.”
You audibly swallow and hold up your coffee cup pleadingly.
“I’ll take care of ya doll.”
With a wink he holds up one long finger.
“Come on in and make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back with that sugar.”
He spins on his heel and walks toward what you’re guessing is the kitchen and it should be considering your apartments are mirror images of each other.
You step inside and stand by the door to wait. You hear him rummaging around and then hear a crash followed by grumbled curses.
Before you can react the cutest white cat saunters out of the kitchen, looking quite proud with his fluffy tail held high and blue eyes unblinking.
“That’s Alpine,” he yells from the other room. “Don’t let his cuteness fool you. He’s a menace!”
You let your laughter ring out and then kneel down to give Alpine some scratches. The cat instantly warms up to you and presses himself against your leg, purring loudly.
“Ah, of course he likes you.”
You look up at the sound of your neighbors voice and reluctantly give up petting Alpine to take the offering of sugar.
“Thank you….?”
“Bucky,” he finishes for you. “Name’s Bucky.”
“Thanks Bucky,” you say with a smile and then introduce yourself.
You look back down at the cat that is now circling between Bucky’s bare feet. “And Alpine really is cute. I can’t imagine he’s a menace.”
“Just wait until you get to know him,” Bucky says. “Can I get you anything else doll?”
“No. Thank you and again I’m sorry if I woke you.”
“No problem at all. I had a late night at the office and I was just being lazy. If you need anything else just come by. Anytime.”
His lips turn up in a boyish grin and he winks again.
You can feel his eyes on you as you turn and walk out into the hall and toward your apartment. Just as you push your door open you look over your shoulder and catch him staring, his teeth dug deep into his bottom lip.
The knock at your door startles you from your unpacking trance and from your spot on the floor, surrounded by open boxes and a mess of things, you ask, “who is it?”
“It’s Bucky…and I have food.”
Your smile is impossible to hide and you shout back, “come in!”
Bucky appears in the doorway with a pizza box.
“Hiya doll face,” he chimes. “I figured you’d need some fuel.”
You drag yourself out of the mess on the floor and hop up onto the edge of the counter.
“Thanks Bucky. I really appreciate it, but you’re spoiling me. What is it now…the third time this week you’re feeding me?”
He hands you a slice and then stands there, watching while you take a bite.
“And why not? You need to eat and I love to eat, might as well do it together!”
You laugh through your bite. “Then what motivated you to help with my furniture?”
He shrugs and grabs a slice of pizza, shoving half into his mouth before he answers.
“Perfect opportunity to show off my muscles.”
He waggles his brows suggestively and flexes a bicep.
“Double win for me,” you admit, licking your lips. “How will I ever repay you.”
He remains quiet for several moments while he studies you then asks, “how about a real dinner?”
“Pizza is the realest dinner there is!” you state with a mouthful.
“Let me take you out. For something other than pizza.”
“Are you asking me on a date?”
“Would you say yes if I were?”
Your legs swing back and forth at the knee as you finish your bite and then place your slice of pizza down. You reach over the box and grab the marker you left out on the counter, placing it between your lips.
Watching him from under your lashes, you take his arm and roll up the sleeve of his Henley and when your fingertips make contact with the sensitive skin on his underside of his forearm you can feel his muscles tighten.
Your mouth curves around the marker at his reaction and you pluck it from between your lips and start writing on his skin.
“Now you’ve got my number. Text me and we’ll pick a date for our date.”
“Thank you,” he says, leaning in close and dropping his eyes to your mouth.
Your lips part with your small gasp of air and when his thumb lifts to brush along the corner of your mouth you let out a rush of air.
“Sauce,” he states before he licks his finger clean, his gaze locked on yours.
You nod as he steps back and pulls out his phone to dial your number on his arm. Your phone rings and he says, “and now you’ve got mine.”
You spend the rest of your weekend unpacking and doing errands, running into Bucky only once in a frantic rush of laundry. He offers to help but you know if you let him you’ll become distracted and never get anything done. The two of you text back and forth, deciding on Saturday for your official date. No pizza involved.
The next morning you get another text from him.
“Morning doll face. Don’t forget an umbrella. Gonna rain later today.”
“Are you the weather man now?” you message back, smiling at your phone.
“Nah. Just a friendly neighbor.”
“Did you tell everyone in the building about the rain and remind them to bring an umbrella.”
“Just you…”
“Thanks, but I’m already half way to work sans umbrella.”
“Damn it. I knew I should have texted earlier. Now if you get caught in the rain it’ll be all my fault.”
“Hardly! I should have checked the weather. Can’t rely on you for everything can I?”
He sends a wink face.
“Is it Saturday yet?”
“Still only Monday morning. What’s Saturday?”
“Don’t tease me doll. I’ve been looking forward to this date since you showed up at my door lookin’ for sugar.”
“Have a good day Bucky.”
“You too doll…stay dry.”
You’re only two blocks from your apartment building when the sky opens up and the rain comes down in buckets. By the time you reach the doors you’re soaked through and cursing at yourself for forgetting an umbrella.
The door attendant lets you in with a sympathetic smile and as you’re sloshing past him and toward the elevator you hear Bucky’s voice.
“Oh doll. Look at you.”
He tugs his mail from the box and slams it shut, rushing toward you and taking your arm.
“Soaked,” you say sadly.
“I can see that,” he muses with a twitch of his perfect lips. “Come on, let’s get you upstairs and dry.”
The elevator doors open and you step inside with a shiver. He immediately starts to pull your jacket from your shoulders.
“What are you doing?” you ask without stopping him.
“You have to get out of this jacket. I’m sure your shirt is….”
He stops speaking when his eyes catch sight of your white button down, soaked through so that you can see the lace of your bra outlined against the fabric.
“Fuck,” he mutters, dragging his eyes back to your face. “Here.”
He shrugs off his damp jacket and then takes off his suit jacket and drapes it over your shoulders.
“But it’ll get all wet,” you protest.
“Don’t care. You can’t walk out of the elevator like that.”
His jaw is set in a hard line as his fingers work over the scruff that lines it. The elevator dings at your floor and he takes your hand, leading you out and checking the hallway.
“Why are you looking around like that?” you ask.
He turns back to you and tugs you closer. “I don’t wanna anyone seeing you.”
“Why not?”
“Because then I’ll have to kill them,” he states.
“Someone is acting a little jealous,” you giggle.
“Yeah well…we haven’t even had our first date yet. Can’t have someone looking at what’s about to be mine.”
“Yours,” you breathe out, not even realizing you’re now standing in front of your apartment door.
With shaky fingers you start to remove his suit jacket but before you can he stops you with a hand on your wrist.
“Don’t doll. Just keep it for now.”
“But we’re at the door. I’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, but if you take that off then I have to see you in your wet shirt again. And I’m not sure I’ll be able to control myself if I do.”
“Control yourself how?” you ask in a breathy whisper.
He responds with a pained groan before his mouth meets yours and he has you pressed against the door.
Even though your shirt is soaked through and your skin is cold you can feel the warmth of his body seep into yours. You wrap your arms around his neck to steady yourself and he lifts one hand to cup the back of your neck, tilting your head and deepening the kiss.
Your scrape your nails along his broad shoulders and he moans out your name.
“Fuck, I love having your hands on me.”
The desperation in his voice has you arching into him and you drop your head against the door, giving him access to trail his lips down your neck. Your fingers slide into his hair and tug at the soft strands. He growls into your skin and scrapes his teeth over your pulse point making you gasp his name.
“Oh I like that,” you whisper.
He does it again.
“You’re going to like everything I do to you doll face.”
His lips graze yours and he swallows your whimper, crowding you closer to the door before muttering out a curse and letting you both take a breath.
“Is it Saturday yet?” he asks, still breathless.
“Still Monday,” you answer, feeling just the same.
“Right,” he says, planting his hands on the door above your head and dropping his head forward.
A door down the hall opens and he pauses, straightening his body to hide your own. You both smile at the older lady who walks by with a questioning look.
When Bucky’s eyes return to you they drop to where he spread his jacket open to put his hands on you, your shirt sticking to your wet skin even more now.
He stares before reluctantly dragging his eyes up and taking the sides of the material and pulling them tightly around you.
You tremble.
“Still cold?” he asks, his eyes soft with worry.
“Hardly,” you answer and lean up to kiss the corner of his mouth.
“See you later Bucky.”
“I’m counting on it doll.”
You spend the rest of the week juggling your time between work, texting Bucky and sleeping. You’ve only seen him once since Monday evening and that was for five minutes when he caught you coming home again but this time he had his friend Steve with him and there was no chance for any kissing.
Saturday morning rolls around and you wake up to a text from him.
“It is finally Saturday or am I dreaming?”
“It’s really Saturday!”
“Thank fuck! Can we start our date now?”
“No…I have to do girly things and prepare.”
“What kinds of things….?”
“I’ll see you tonight Buck.”
You can almost hear his groan through the phone.
“I’ll be at your door at 7 sharp.”
Bucky knocks on your apartment door at exactly the same time your phone clock hits 7:00pm. You grin at your best friend Nat before she gets up and walks toward the door.
“Oh girl. He’s hot!” a muffled voice says from the other side.
It isn’t yours so Bucky assumes it’s your friend.
“He’s at least a nine.”
Bucky scoffs, muttering, “a nine?” quietly to himself.
“Hey, I can hear you in there. Are you gonna open the door?” he asks the unknown voice.
The door swings open to reveal a red head who looks him over with two scrutinizing green eyes.
“Hi,” he smiles, holding out his hand. “I’m Bu…”
“Bucky,” she finishes. “I know who you are…question is…do you know who I am?”
“You must be Natasha,” Bucky answers with a smug smile.
“That’s right and I’m a black belt in jiu jitsu so you do anything I don’t like and I will end you.”
Bucky’s eyes light up and he watches Nat as she moves toward the kitchen.
“You almost ready doll face,” he yells, not taking his eyes off Nat in case she goes for a knife.
“I’m right here,” you say.
Bucky turns to find you standing right in front of him. His mouth drops open as his eyes sweep you up and down.
“This is where you say she looks amazing,” Nat admonishes from the kitchen, dangerously close to the knife rack.
However, Bucky’s eyes never leave you and when he steps into your space and wraps you in his arms, pulling you into his chest, you let out a squeal of delight.
“You look fucking gorgeous,” he says, loud enough for Nat to hear, then whispers, only for your ears, “I want to rip this dress off you.”
Your lips spread into a sly smile. “We made the right choice Nat.”
“Of course we did,” she chimes. “Now go. I’ll lock up.”
“I’m so ready,” he says, ushering you toward the door, but not before turning to Nat, still in the kitchen eyeing him warily, and asking, “I’m good with a nine, but just out of curiosity, what did I lose a point for?”
“You’re really gonna make me say it in front of you?” Nat asks.
“I wanna hear it too Nat,” you say, raising an expectant and skeptical brow.
“You didn’t shave.”
He runs the free hand, the one not wrapped around your waist, over his jaw.
“I didn’t get any complaints earlier this week,” Bucky says, eyes now sparkling with mischief.
“He’s right Nat,” you add. “I like it.”
Nat rolls her eyes and shoos you away.
Once you’re safely in the elevator and away from prying eyes Bucky invades your space, plastering you against the cool metal wall and caging you there with his large body.
“It almost killed me to not be kissing you for the past five minutes,” he says against your lips.
When you press into him and slide your body along his it sucks the breath right out of his lungs and fills them with something else. Need.
The kiss pulls a throaty groan from him and his belt buckle digs into your skin, the muscles hidden beneath his clothes, pressing and flexing over the thin material of your dress.
The elevator door dings and begins to slide open, causing you to give his chest a gentle shove.
“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” he asks as he lifts a finger and traces your swollen lips.
“That would suck,” you reply. “I kind of like having you as a neighbor.”
After a delicious dinner at a roof top restaurant down town, Bucky walks you along the street, hand in hand, as you listen and laugh to his childhood stories about growing up in Brooklyn.
“Where are we going now?” you ask.
“It’s a surprise,” he says as he twirls you into his side and presses his fingers under your chin to steal a kiss.
As you get closer to your destination the bright lights sparkle and the smell of the ocean is carried on the warm breeze.
“Which bridge is that?” you ask with awe.
“The Brooklyn Bridge,” he tells you and grabs your hand to pull you along. “Come on. I have something to show you.”
When you reach the top of the look out he slides an arm around your waist and pulls your back to his chest.
“This is so beautiful Bucky,” you whisper.
He kisses your cheek and takes your chin between his fingers, turning your face up to his. “I always thought it was the most beautiful thing in the city…but not anymore.”
You’re thankful for his strong arms holding you up and after a sweet kiss you enjoy the view in comfortable silence for a few more minutes but his hands start to wander, soft and sure, and with each passing touch your body aches for more.
His warm breath fans across your neck and his arm moves lower until his hand grasps your hip and he pulls you back to feel the hardness between his legs.
You suck in a breath and fight the urge to move against him.
With a curse he pulls away and grabs your hand, dragging you toward the park under the bridge. The only lights come from the lit-up buildings across the street and when he finds a hidden spot he backs you against the cold stone but you’re too hot to care.
“Bucky,” you whisper as your hands roam over his broad chest.
His mouth brushes yours before he gently nips at your bottom lip.
“I can’t even keep my fucking hands off you long enough to bring you home,” he murmurs.
His fingers find the hem of your dress and he slides them under, slowly teasing the fabric higher until his hand brushes over the wetness on your panties.
“Please, Bucky,” you pant.
“Fuck, I love hearing you say my name like that,” he growls. “I need to get you home so I can hear you scream it for me.”
@hiddles-rose @littleseasiren @randomfandompenguin @blackwidownat2814 @goldylions @buckysdollforlife @lizette50
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x you#neighbor!bucky#bucky barnes fanfictionn#bucky barnes x y/n#neighbor!bucky barnes#neighbor au#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x female reader#sebastian stan x reader#bucky x reader#neighbor!bucky x reader
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€uro Tra$h Series: Dipped in $ugar (Part 3 - final)
Pairing: Billy Butcher x You (Reader) || Rating: Explicit || Word Count: 1.9k || Link to Part 1 and Link to Part 2 (Not necessary to read to understand Part 3, but here if you want more! Timeline for this work is Season 1 btw).
Summary: Just morning sex with Butcher lol.
Author’s Note: Wrote this shorter cuz I meant to get this out a long while ago, whoops! You can let me know how it was! Likes, dislikes, etc. I love and appreciate feedback in the comments. This 3-part scenario is now complete. @a-rogue-tiddy-bot thought you might want to be tagged!
Warnings: swearing, teasing, vaginal fingering, implied p in v sex, sugar daddy / daddy kink (the name daddy is used 1 time, and a lil talk of those dynamics), age gap (implied, not specified), little bit of praise, begging
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You woke up gradually, each of your senses gathering intel on your surroundings to remind you of where you were. Sunlight streamed through the tiny crack in the motel’s curtains, glinting off the weapon on the table. The bed sheets by your nose still had the scent of laundry detergent despite last night’s action. The faint snoring of the man behind you matched the warm body cuddled up to your backside, and the arm under your neck that you were using as a pillow. You could feel the heat radiating off Billy’s chest and the weight of his other arm hanging over your midsection, as well as something not-so-soft pressing against your butt.
You stretched your hand back to stroke his neck. “Billy?” you whispered.
No response.
“Billy,” you said louder, lightly tugging on his hair.
He hummed, keeping his eyes closed.
You took a breath, then gave an experimental shift backwards into his crotch.
“Oi. Morning sunshine,” he mumbled into your hair, his hand already cupping between your legs.
You giggled at how that got his attention. “Morning, Billy.”
“When’d you put these on?” he complained softly, playing with the waistband of your bottoms.
“When I got up in the middle of the night.”
If you thought Butcher’s regular deep voice was sexy, you were wholly unprepared to face this gravelly tone as he woke up. Especially when it was demanding your naked body again.
“Well fucking take ‘em off, will ya?”
Billy hardly gave you a moment to comply before shoving his hand in your underwear. He immediately found your clit, but his touch was gentle, and worked tantalizingly slow, tracing lazy circles. Your legs didn’t need much coaxing to open up as Billy eagerly pushed his own thigh between them and hooked yours around it while planting soft kisses to your neck. His beard tickled your jawline, and you sighed contentedly, melting into the sensation with a slight turn of your head toward him. You closed your eyes.
If this was how snug morning sex with Billy could be, you hoped he would let you linger more frequently. You guessed being half asleep was why his demeanor had taken a sharp left turn and a whole 180 flip to be so…calm. Not that you ever minded his roughness. But this right now was a different experience, and it was nice. You were used to trying to help Butcher relax as much as possible during your visits, but there is only so many times a guy can fuck the stress out of his system before needing to face his stressors head-on, like a well-adjusted adult. You knew an unstable, emotionally unavailable man when you saw one; Butcher didn’t have time for that. His mind was always preoccupied, his actions always in a hustle to return to whatever was demanding his attention before you arrived. Hence, why you were surprised he wasn’t already fucking you into the mattress and sending you on your way.
Instead, Billy’s fingers continued to tease your slick entrance delicately; it was almost unbelievable they were the same fingers that brought you to a searing climax some hours ago.
“Even first thing in the morning, so wet and ready,” Billy whispered in your ear.
You could hear the smirk in his voice, driving you to push your hips against him to address your growing need for more friction. But Billy seemed satisfied taking his time playing with you, his breathing even as his lips ghosted across the smooth skin of your shoulder.
A cross between a groan and a whimper slipped off your tongue. You were getting impatient already. “I need more, Daddy.”
“Need more what, luv?” Billy took hardly a second to push your underwear farther down your legs until it was off, and run his hand back up your bare skin.
“More of you,” you answered, reaching behind to grab his increasingly hard length. Hot and heavy in your palm, you started to touch him too, rubbing slowly from base to tip.
“Oh, you’ll get more, baby.”
You inhaled sharply. Billy rarely called you baby. Shit, you thought. Since when had he picked up on the effect that word had on you when it was uttered by him? You could give less of a shit when your other sugar daddies called you the pet name. But Billy dropping it so casually right now while he toyed with your arousal? You were in for it this morning.
“My baby can be such a greedy girl,” he chuckled.
My baby. My. Baby. My.
This time you visibly shivered, your shoulders rattling against his chest, but you tried to cover it up by twisting your head back at the same time to steal a kiss from his lips. He allowed it, nipping at your lower lip, then removed his arm from under you and propped himself up on it. Butcher was at the perfect level now to hover right above your ear.
“Did ya know that’s why I say you’re my favorite?”
His fingers were back on your clit, the pressure still light, but he quickened his pace.
“Why?” you asked, dumbly, his teasing clearly too distracting for your mind to keep up with the conversation, as well as provide any stimulation for him. Your hand on his length had already slowed to a pathetic, arrhythmic rate. You blushed at the realization when he — rather politely — removed your useless hand from his crotch and placed it under his own to touch yourself with as he continued his ministrations on your wetting pussy.
“Because you’re greedy, luv. And I know it’s not for my money.”
A pitifully needy noise slipped out from deep in your throat as Billy’s mouth connected to the soft spot under your ear, tongue flicking at the lobe, before he bit it — harder than you anticipated.
“You get that everywhere, with however many daddies you have.”
You drew in a deep breath in an attempt to steady your loudly beating heart. Was there a tinge of spite in his voice? You didn’t have time to analyze. Billy flipped you around to face him, swiftly replacing the hands on your core with his length dragging through your folds. You gasped, gripping at his shoulders, trying not to stare down at the delicious sight of his big hand around his even bigger member, its head leaking precum into your slit.
“Nah, I know,” Billy growled. Your eyes snapped up to meet his dark, lust-filled gaze. “You’re just greedy for my cock.”
You shrieked at the sudden intrusion, then swore at him. Finally he had dipped into your dripping cunt. Except this fucker switched back to using his fingers.
“Billy— Billy, please,” you cried out, not even sure what you were begging for. You were greedy for his cock, yes. You were just as desperate for your fucking release. Also, you wanted to wipe that smug smile off his handsome face.
“Let me hear you,” he insisted, two digits pushing in and out of your center. “Tell me, why are you my favorite fuck?”
You willed your mind and mouth to cooperate in forming sentences. “Because I’m greedy.”
The quick response earned you a third digit stretching you out, causing you to bite down on your lip.
“For…?”
Again, you forced yourself to concentrate, despite the lewd noises echoing below you and the feeling of climax in the pit of your stomach hungry to break free.
“For your cock,” you breathed out. “I’m so greedy for your cock.”
Billy curled his fingers to hit that spot you loved, and you felt your tether to reality loosen.
“So sweet of you to say, darlin’.” The stillness in his tone matched the precision of his palm now rubbing tight circles on your clit. "Is that what you want now? You want my cock in your tight little pussy?"
Your head drooped forward, thudding against his firm chest, your hands still clawing at his arms for some sense of stability while you grinded down on him, desperately chasing your high. He was stringing you out for all you were worth and you were so, so close, you didn’t care how pathetic you sounded. "Yes, yes! Please— I want it so bad,” you panted.
“Next time, baby, look at me when you speak. Maybe then you'll get exactly what you want.”
With one last stroke of his hand, your orgasm hit hard, much more intense than the two last night combined, and twice as pleasurable. You saw stars with your eyes sealed shut while your pussy clenched with a vice grip around Billy, as strong as your nails dug into his skin. He made you the most writhing, sweaty mess you’d been in months, yet you didn’t — couldn’t — even make a sound, sans the quiet gushing of your juices thoroughly coating him.
You had no idea how many minutes passed before you came back down to Earth in Butcher’s arms and opened your eyes to see him peering down at you gingerly. He pecked your forehead, and you did the same to his neck, collarbone, and chest.
“Fuck, I’m glad you stayed last night, luv.”
“Me too,” you squeaked out.
“You alrigh’?” Billy asked, wiping the tears that had formed at the corners of your eyes.
You nodded, then laughed. “Pretty sure I blacked out.”
“Thought so, too,” he replied, a small, satisfied grin appearing.
You rolled your eyes and playfully pushed him away. Then for the first time all morning, you got a good look at him. His thick, dark brown hair could definitely be characterized as a bed head, and you aimlessly combed through it a few times. Your gaze drifted downwards to the red scratches you had just gifted him, and you gently brushed over them with the pad of your thumb. A little farther down you carefully studied the still-fresh bruises and past-lingering scars across his broad torso.
Your turn to inquire. “Are you alright?”
“Never better,” Billy said, a little too quickly.
“I mean from last night.” You traced an imaginary line connecting the marks on his body, to make your point clear. “What happened?”
Butcher shifted his body, but his face remained hardened. “Even MM needs a reminder every once in a while. Captain’s gotta run a tight ship,” he said matter-of-factly. “Job’s stressful, night didn’t go as planned, he took it out on me, but he knows when I’m right.”
You nodded, as if deliberately sidestepping the question about his injuries to explain the one part of his night you were present for was an acceptable enough answer. However, after a restful night’s sleep and an active morning that left you plenty clear-headed, you felt a bit more bold. You didn’t care if it wasn’t a sugar baby’s place to know his job. If he wasn’t ready to discuss the elephant in the room this second, you were at least going to let him know he wouldn’t get away with avoiding it for long.
“Fine, if you want to dance around it. You don’t have to tell me right now why you were gone four hours longer than you expected, or came back with this,” you nudged his taped up hand, “or that,” you gestured toward the semi-automatic on the table, “but at the very least, you should introduce me to your colleagues.”
The flashback of you laying on the bed, thankfully fully clothed, when they stormed in last night flashed through your memory. “You know, the guys who weren’t sure that this is legal,” you added. “Want them to know it’s all good.”
There was a beat of silence, until Billy relented, and you were genuinely surprised at the lack of pushback. “Fine.”
With his hand on your hip, he rolled you over onto your other side, back into a spooning position, with your ass pulled against him.
“You’ll meet the boys with my cum dripping down your thighs.”
#Billy Butcher#billy butcher x reader#billy butcher smut#billy butcher fanfic#billy butcher x you#the boys#the boys fanfic#the boys smut#amazon the boys#the boys tv#Karl urban#beyoursbbfic
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annie leonhart (of course) or maybe aruani in general
For a change from the other asks, I'll do Annie. And since this is the entire list, i wanna challenge myself to keep my answers brief
Also this makes a good reference point for more detailed asks
A = Aftercare | How do they take care of their partner after a session? How do they prefer to be taken care of?
Naked-cuddles and light praise (though she won't admit it)
B = Bondage | Do they like to be tied up or do the tying? Do they like rope, handcuffs or something else?
Rope (only on occasion). Held down (Yes!)
C = Collar | Do they like collars? Leashes? Or other symbols of ownership?
Not on herself. Likes leaving marks on Armin
D = Dominance | Are they more of a Dominant or a submissive? Switch?
85% bottom 15% switch
E = Edgeplay | How do they feel about edgeplay?
Not into danger. Though total trust is there
F = Feelings | How do they feel about their kinks? Do they make them feel euphoric, safe, shameful, etc?
Shameful then safe (over time)
G = Garments | Do they have any particular clothing kinks? (Thigh highs, leather, lingerie, costumes, etc…)
Rolled up sleeves and band rings
H = Heated | How do they feel about angry sex? Hate sex?
Leaves her drained if directed at her
I = Importance | How important are their kinks to them? Would they be satisfied with a partner who doesn’t share them?
Not a deal breaker
J = Just Kidding | How do they handle discussing or confessing their kinks?
Deny, deny, deny!
K = Kinks | What are their kinks?
Praise, semi-clothed sex, and submission of control
L = Limits | What are their soft and hard limits?
Soft: sensory deprivation (takes a shitton of trust)
Hard: degradation
M = Masturbation | Would they ever masturbate with a partner?
Yes!
N = Noise | What sort of things do they say? What sounds do they make?
Very loud and whines a lot
O = Orgies | Have they or would they ever have sex with multiple partners?
Not really
P = Porn | Do they like porn? Would they ever make a video with their partner?
Canon-verse: wouldn't mind a couple of pictures
Q = Questions | How curious are they about other kinks? Do they have some they’d like to explore?
Shame of her wants and desires is strong
R = Roleplay | Do they enjoy roleplaying?
Somewhat
S = Safeword | What is their safeword? What do they do when the safeword gets called?
The usual: no and stop. Nothing requiring actual safewords.
T = Tickling | Do they like sensory play? What kind?
Some heat play (cold fingers, rings, or ice)
U = Undermined | How do they handle brats? Are they the brat?
One of the few occasions Annie tops
V = Vengeance | Tell us about their punishments - the ones they give or take.
Receiving: either overstimulation or edging
W = Whipping | Do they like impact play? What kinds?
Generally rough sex with a solid grip on hair, hand around jaw or neck, mild ass/cunt slapping (it's a whole other question whether Armin will do it)
X = X-Tra | What’s another kinky fun fact about them?
Surprisingly low stamina for sex (mostly mental) physically can keep going if he's gentle enough afterwards
Y = Yes, Sir | Do they identify with a title or role like Dom or Sir, or Slave or Kitten?
I can see the appeal of "kitten" on occasion. ("Daddy kink" is purely a joke in my book)
Z = Zzz… | Would they ever participate in sleep play with their partner?
Full on sex, no
Waking up to it/waking up the other: yes
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Shabba Ranks - Slow & Sexy ft. Johnny Gill - (1992)
🎙️ARTIST: Shabba Ranks & Johnny Gill📣TITLE: Slow & Sexy💿ALBUM: X-tra Naked📆RELEASED: (1992)
Firebarzzz Quotes
« Slow and Sexy » de Shabba Ranks a été produit par Jimmy Jam & Terry Lewis & Clifton Dillon .
Lyrics
[Intro: Shabba Ranks & Johnny Gill]Sha-boot heal!A Shabba, the world thrill!And Johnny GillAll girls!X-tra Naked!Strip me, strip meTake it off
[Hook: Shabba Ranks]Wanna see me naked,…
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Con diritto di esposizione lungo le strade dei tratturi
Mostra personale di Petro Ryaska
Advisor curator: Maria Lanko - The Naked Room Gallery
Petro Ryaska participant MAXXI Fontecchio Residence Program
MAXXI Fontecchio Residency Program è un progetto realizzato in collaborazione con il Comune di Fontecchio e la Fondazione Imago Mundi con il sostegno del Ministero dei Beni Culturali
ore 16.30 (circa), 1 marzo 2023, borgo di Fontecchio
Al luogo della mostra si verrà condotti dopo l’evento precedente
"Arbitrarietà" dell'artista per il diritto all’esibizione. Narrativo-effimero, poetico, storico paesaggio della valle del fiume Aterno. Con il diritto di esposizione lungo le strade del tratturo sono delle azioni dell'autore in continuazione alle sue precedenti azioni artistiche legali, in particolare i lavori come "Parlerò", "Costituzione della performance", e i temi del manifesto del villaggio, trauma storico, paesaggio storico, arte nelle mani delle autorità (imperi) del passato e di oggi. Questa mostra, invece, presenterà perfomance-quadri e la poesia "Constitution of Stone", un'azione dalla Terrazza di Anna-Maria de Torre, diversi video sul tema "Constitution of Stone".
L'opera d'arte che ho creato per la residenza del MAXXI a Fontecchio è il risultato della mia ricerca di 4 mesi, tra novembre 2022 e marzo 2023. La mia ricerca si basa sul trovare un documento legale sugli aspetti legali dei diritti umani nella storia di Fontecchio, della regione Abruzzo, l’Italia in generale. Con una specializzazione in antropologia sociale, le mie aspirazioni sono tentativi di natura socialmente protettiva attraverso l’immaginazione di immagini ed esperienze storiche dell'Abruzzo e dell'Italia nel suo insieme. In particolare, il progetto di ricerca ha tenuto conto di eventi quali la Guerra Sociale in Abruzzo (90 a.C.), Diritti in cambio della pace, Rivoluzione costituzionale, Un anno e un giorno - l'aria di città rende liberi - Movimento Comunale (X-XIII sec.). Si richiama l'attenzione sulle criticità della storia: l'alleanza tra memoria e potere; la creazione del potere di domani attraverso l'invenzione di ieri; memoria collettiva e quella in cui la memoria collettiva coincideva con la memoria della nobiltà (potere).
I miei tentativi di ricerca sul lavoro di conservazione del patrimonio culturale. La ricerca di Lucie Maulsby è buona: How to Look at Architecture: An Autonomous Discipline with a Language That Exists and Quotes Itself. Cioè, "lasciare i monumenti architettonici al loro posto permette di sentire il contesto in cui sono stati creati", il patrimonio architettonico culturale è testimone della storia. In particolare, rispetto ai valori della Convenzione di Faro, in uno degli incontri che si sono svolti nel borgo di Fontecchio nel recente passato, ci sollecitano a una maggiore comprensione del patrimonio culturale narrativo, sia materiale che immateriale.
Il mio dialogo artistico con l'esperienza dell'arte della storia italiana, ovvero l'arbitrarietà dell'artista-scultore di epoca romanica. O l'opera di Masaccio "Pagamento del tributo" in cui "singole parti significative sono liberamente collocate nel paesaggio". Affreschi degli artisti Uccello e Michelangelo: "Creazione di Adamo". Leonardo da Vinci: scritti segreti in codice e poesia. La scultura del lottatore Borghese di Agasia di Efeso è continuata nella scultura di Palmoli Soldiers in Motion. Basandosi sull'antica cultura della fisicità.
La soluzione artistica del progetto è stata fortemente influenzata dal contesto naturalistico, in particolare dall'impronta dei frequenti terremoti in Abruzzo e in particolare nel paese di Fontecchio.
(eng)
With the right of exposure along the roads of sheep trails
Personal exhibition of Petro Ryaska
TNR advisor curator: Maria Lanko
Petro Ryaska participant MAXXI Fontecchio Residence Program. MAXXI Fontecchio Residency Program is a project realized in cooperation with the Municipality of Fontecchio and Fondazione Imago Mundi with the support of the Italian Ministry of Culture.
March 1, 2023, Fontecchio village. To the place of the exhibition will be conducted after the previous event.
"Arbitrariness" of the artist for the right to the exhibition. Narrative-ephemeral, poetic, historical landscape of the Aterno river valley. With the right of exposition along the roads of sheep path are the actions of the author in continuation of his legal artistic actions, in particular such as "I will speak", "Constitution of performance", and the themes of the manifesto of the village, historical trauma, historical landscape, art in the hands of the authorities (empires) of the past and today's... In particular, this exhibition will present perfomance-convases and poetry "Constitution of Stone", an action from Anna-Maria's Terrace de Torre, several videos with the theme "Constitution of Stone".
The artwork I created on the MAXXI Fontecchio residency is the result of my 4 months research between November 2022 and March 2023. My search is to find a legal document on the legal aspects of human for human rights in the history of Fontecchio, the Abruzzo region, Italy in general. With a major in social anthropology, my aspirations are attempts of a socially protective nature through historical images and historical experiences of Abbruzzo and Italy as a whole. In particular, the research project took into account such events as the Social War in Abruzzo (90 BC), Right in exchange for peace, Constitutional revolution, One year and one day - the city air makes free, Communal movement (X-XIII centuries ). Attention is drawn to critical issues in history: the alliance between memory and power; The creation of the power of tomorrow through the invention of yesterday; Collective memory and that when collective memory coincided with the memory of the nobility (power).
My attempts to research cultural heritage conservation work. Lucie Maulsby's research is good: How to Look at Architecture: An Autonomous Discipline with a Language That Exists and Quotes Itself. That is, "leaving architectural monuments in their place allows you to feel the content in which they were created", cultural architectural heritage is a witness of history. In particular, the values of the Faro Convention, one of the meetings that took place in the village of Fontecchio in the recent past, prompts us to a greater understanding of cultural heritage, both tangible and intangible, narrative.
My artistic dialogue with the experience of the art of Italian history, namely the arbitrariness of the artist-sculptor of the Romanesque era. Or Masaccio's work "The Miracle with the Denarius" in which "individual meaningful parts are freely placed in the landscape." Frescoes by artists Uccello and Michelangelo: "Creation of Adam". Leonardo da Vinci: coded secret writings and poetry. The sculpture Borghese wrestler Agassius of Ephesus is continued in Palmoli's sculpture Soldiers in Motion. Relying on the ancient culture of physicality.
The artistic solution of the project was greatly influenced by the context of nature, in particular the stamp of frequent earthquakes in the Abbruzzo region and in particular in the village of Fontecchio.
(укр)
«З правом експозиції вздовж доріг овечих стежок»
Персональна подія Петра Ряски
TNR advisor curator: Марія Ланько
Petro Ryaska participant MAXXI Fontecchio Residence Program. MAXXI Fontecchio Residency Program is a project realized in cooperation with the Municipality of Fontecchio and Fondazione Imago Mundi with the support of the Italian Ministry of Culture.
1 березня, 2023 року, село Фонтеккьо. До місця виставки буде проведено після попередньої події.
«Свавілля» художника на право на експозицію. Наративно-ефемерний, поетичний, історичний пейзаж долини річки Атерно. З правом експозиції вздовж доріг овечих стежок є діями автора у продовження його правових мистецьких акцій зокрема таких, як «Я буду говорити», «Конституція перформансу», та тем маніфесту села, історичної травми, історичного пейзажу, мистецтва в руках влади (імперій) минулого та сьогоднішнього… Зокрема на даній виставці будуть презентовані полотна-діяння та поезія «Конституція каменю», акція з тераси де Торре Анни-Марії, декілька відео з темою «Конституція каменю».
Створене мною мистецтво на MAXXI Фонтеккьо резиденції є результатом мого 4-х місячного дослідження в період з листопаду, 2022 року по березень, 2023 року. Мій пошук знайти правовий документ з правових аспектів людини за права людини в історії Фонтеккьо, регіону Абруццо, Італії загалом та історії мистецтв Італії. З керунком соціальної антропології мої прагнення є спробами соціально-захисного характеру через історичні образи та історичний досвід Аббруццо та Італії в цілому. Зокрема в проекті-дослідженні було враховані такі події, як Соціальна війна в Абруццо (90 р до н.е), Право в обмін на мир, Конституційна революція, Рік і один день - міське повітря робить вільним, Комунальний рух (Х-ХІІІ ст). Звертається увага на критичні питання з історії: Альянс між пам’яттю та владою; Створення владою завтрашнього дня через винайдення вчорашнього; Колективна пам'ять та те коли колективна пам'ять збігалися з пам’яттю знаті (влади).
Мої спроби дослідити працю зі збереження культурної спадщини. Хорошими є дослідження Люсі Молсбі: «Як дивитися на архітектуру: автономна дисципліна з мовою, що існує сама в собі й цитує сама себе». Тобто «залишенням архітектурних пам'яток на своєму місці дозволяє відчути контент в якому їх було створено», культурна архітектурна спадщина є свідком історії. Зокрема цінності Конвенсії Фаро одна із зустрічей котрої відбулась у селі Фонтеккьо в недавньому минулому, спонукає нас до більшого розуміння культурної спадщини, як матеріальної так і нематеріальної, наративної.
Мій художній діалог з досвідом мистецтва історії Італії, а саме свавілля художника-скульптора романської епохи. Або праця Мазаччо «Чудо з динарієм» в котрій «окремі смислові частини вільно розміщені у пейзажі». Фрески художників Учелло та Мікеланджело: «Створення Адама». Леонардо да Вінчі: закодовані тайнописи та поезія. Скульптура Борге́зький боре́ць Агасія Ефеського продовжена у скульптурі Пальмолі солдат у русі. Опора на античну культуру тілесності.
На художнє вирішення проекту дуже вплинув контекст природи, зокрема печатка подій частих землетрусів в Аббруццо регіоні та зокрема в селі Фонтеккьо.
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今日の一枚 レコード編 SHABBA RANKS X-TRA NAKED この一枚も#jamaicaの#gregoryisaacs から買ったと思う。イギリスに戻ってPubで#dj やった時かけたら馬鹿ウケだった。 Garrard 301 #作品の産まれる環境 #shabbaranks #xtranaked #analog#レコード#garrad401#garrard301#orfton #vynalrecords #vynal#musicoftheday #motd#louisterai #アキュフェーズ#真空管アンプ #tannoystirling #オーディオのある生活 #audiophile #audio https://www.instagram.com/p/Cj-YP7zSG-l/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
#jamaicaの#gregoryisaacs#dj#作品の産まれる環境#shabbaranks#xtranaked#analog#レコード#garrad401#garrard301#orfton#vynalrecords#vynal#musicoftheday#motd#louisterai#アキュフェーズ#真空管アンプ#tannoystirling#オーディオのある生活#audiophile#audio
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VIRGINIA MAESTRO..tras ver a ARAMUSA cuando celebre ni 46 cumple (lo hice el 25_11_17 q presentó JAMIROQUAI en MADRID su último CD AUTO-MATON y q debutó con CD EMERGENCY ON PLANET EARTH) en la sala SIROCO (tras haber estado bebiendo en el bar LA CASTA de la calle CRISTO)..me fui con sus amigas BISEXUALES o LESBIANAS al FULANITA DE TAL q está junto al BUHO REAL ..después fui andando para coger el BUS BUHO y pase x la sede del PP junto a la cual está el LOOK GOOD NAKED
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Steely & Clevie & Shabba Ranks Get Sampled On New @TaiAyshaMami X @Saweetie Single!
Steely & Clevie & Shabba Ranks Get Sampled On New @TaiAyshaMami X @Saweetie Single!
Ting-A-Ling-A-Ling, a new song is in, sampling some sounds from a 90s Dancehall Riddim! Model/Recording Artist Tai’Aysha made her debut today with the single, “One Night Ting“. The single features an appearance by Saweetie, and was co-produced by the legendary Stephen “Di Genius” McGregor! While there is high hopes that this will be a hit for Tai’Aysha, we’re here for the sample! Dancehall heads…
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#13thstreetpromo#13thstreetpromotions#blog#Cleveland Browne#dancehall#dancehall music#Gi-Gi Riddim#jamaica#music#Saweetie#Shabba Ranks#Steely and Clevie#Stephen Di Genius McGregor#Stephen McGregor#Tai-Aysha#Ting A Ling#video#wordpress#Wycliffe Johnson#X-tra Naked
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Missed Them
Pairing: Zoya Nazyalensky x reader x Nikolai Lantsov
Summary: The Queen and Prince return home...
Smut!
A/N: This was the smutty prompt that I was initially gonna write for poly Zoyalai, and I’m considering it a part 2 to “Invitation” which you can read here
You watched with eager eyes as the royal coach rolled through the palace gates, the banner of the Nazyalensky dragon trailing from its roof. Zoya and Nikolai had been away for two weeks, attending the celebration of Hringkälla in Djerholm. You’d been asked to stay behind, your status as a consort not welcome in Fjerda. But your lovers were home now, and you’d missed them greatly.
Servants and advisors were gathered on the palace steps to welcome their Queen and Prince home, and when they exited the coach, all bowed and curtsied. All save for you, who ran down the steps and into Zoya’s open arms. “My love,” she said, her arms tight around you. “We missed you so much.” Nikolai hugged you next, when his wife had released you. “We did. But Saints, you’d have hated it there. Women aren’t allowed to drink, did you know that?”
You laughed, gratefully accepting your lover’s kisses and embraces, your heart feeling content after weeks. While they were away, you yearned for Nikolai and Zoya; their presence, their touch, their comfort, and the more intimate comforts they brought you. Zoya had draped an arm over your shoulder, keeping you tucked into her side, and you nosed at her neck, your breath tickling her skin.
“Zoya,” you nearly whined. “Zoya, Nikolai, I…” The Prince chuckled, taking your hand in his. He’d sensed your desire, your need for them as soon as he’d seen you running toward them. There was your joy upon seeing them, your happiness that they were home, but there was lust there too. And while Nikolai was eager to have you in his arms again after two weeks, he was just as eager to get you in bed.
“I think someone’s needy, isn’t that right, dearest?” You nodded, and Zoya smiled wickedly. “I think you’re right, love. Come, Y/N, I think we should head upstairs.” You nodded eagerly, and the Queen led you and Nikolai into the palace, ignoring the pointed and questioning stares of her advisors. If she wanted to lock the three of you in your rooms, then she was more than entitled to do so.
“Ensure we are not disturbed,” Zoya said to the guards at the door, ushering you inside. She locked the door behind her before turning to face you. The Queen wore a traveling gown of deep blue, and you couldn’t help but admire her beauty. Zoya took you in her arms and kissed you deeply, her hands finding the ties of your dress and pulling them loose, allowing her to push the garment from your shoulders.
“Zoya,” you sighed, letting out a soft moan when Nikolai came behind you, kissing a path down your neck. “Nikolai, yes.” “We missed you so much, beautiful,” the Prince praised, unlacing your corset and removing it while Zoya pushed your slip from your waist. “Your perfect body, your sweet voice, all of you.” The Queen nodded, breaking the kiss so she could strip. You watched with rapt attention as she removed her gown, pulling the garment over her head, leaving her in only a silk chemise.
“Please,” you breathed, unsure of what exactly you were asking for. “Please, Zoya, I want… I need…” “Shh, I know, love. We’ll take care of you.” Nikolai began removing his clothes, though he was unwilling to remove his body from yours, which made the endeavor a bit more difficult than it needed to be, but in a few moments you were all naked, skin flushed, full of want.
Nikolai guided you to the bed, sitting against the headboard with you leaning back against his chest, head on his shoulder. Zoya stalked over to you, lust in her eyes, kneeling on the mattress before you. “Look at you, beautiful girl,” she said, her words making you shudder. “Spread your legs for me, love. I want to see your perfect cunt.” You obeyed, for who would disobey a Queen, and Zoya moaned.
“So wet for us, Kolya,” she said, and Nikolai trailed a hand from your waist to between your legs, feeling how aroused you were. “Saints, beautiful, how long have you been this pent up? Since we left?” You nodded, and the Prince smirked, kissing your temple. “I know, sweetheart. But we’re home now, and we’ll take care of you.” Slowly, Zoya maneuvered to lie on her stomach between your legs, her face inches from your core. “Do you want this?” she asked, and you nodded your consent.
The Queen moved forward, licking a stripe over your pussy, which made you moan. Zoya knew precisely where and how to stimulate to have you seeing stars. She sucked on your clit, pushed her tongue into your dripping hole, playing you like a well tuned violin, and oh, the music you made. When you looked at her, Zoya’s eyes flashed silver, and you moaned, gripping Nikolai’s hand, turning your face into his neck. His cock was hard, pressing against your back, but this was about you.
“Yes, there, please, don’t stop!” you cried, among a string of moans and expletives. “Zoya, please, don’t stop, yes!” The Queen obeyed, continuing her ministrations while your other loves whispered in your ear. “You’re so beautiful like this, lapushka, writhing on Zoya’s tongue. Saints, you’re so perfect, so lovely in my arms. Do you have any idea how much we desire you? How hard it is to keep our hands off of you?”
Zoya moaned against your cunt, the taste of your arousal acting like an aphrodisiac, her own arousal doubling by the second. “So good, Y/N,” she praised. “You taste so good.” With a few more licks to your clit, you were coming, crying Zoya’s name, squeezing Nikolai’s hands. Zoya ate you out through your high, and when she lifted her head, she was smiling. The Queen crawled up your body, sealing her lips over yours when she reached your face. “That was well worth waiting two weeks for,” she said, and you whimpered, needing more, needing Nikolai.
Without having to be asked or told, Nikolai gently moved from his place behind you, easing you onto the mattress. The Prince knelt between your still spread thighs, taking his aching cock in hand, stroking himself lightly. “Sweet girl, are you ready for me?” “Yes, Kolya, please.” Zoya moved to your side, stroking your hair gently, making your heart swell with love. Nikolai aligned himself and gently thrust into you, a strained moan leaving his lips.
There hadn’t been any time for intimacy while in Fjerdan, and even if there had been, Zoya hadn’t wanted to. There had been guards stationed outside their rooms, a clear sign that despite their new peace, the Fjerdans didn’t trust them. Their own palace guards were one thing, but unfamiliar Fjerdans? Another entirely. So Nikolai was rather keyed up himself, and he hoped he could pleasure you enough before he met his own end.
“Fuck, malyshka, you’re so tight.” Nikolai’s thrusts were gentle yet deep, the head of his cock brushing that place within you that never failed to have you wailing your lovers’ names. His hair fell into his face, and you reached up to brush it aside. Nikolai leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours, moaning against your mouth. “Kolya, yes, don't stop, please!” “Never, Y/N, never.” Zoya was trailing her hands over your chest, tweaking your nipples and kneading your breasts, only adding to the pleasure you felt.
You felt like you were floating, the only sensations you could focus on being Nikolai’s cock within you and Zoya’s gentle touch, yet you wanted more. You wanted to tip over that edge; the edge that only your lovers could take you over. “Z-Zoya,” you stammered as Nikolai reached down to rub your clit. “Yes, my love? What do you need?” Her voice was soft and gentle, and you thought you could cry for wanting her.
“I want to taste you, please.” The Queen moaned. This was a position the three of you often found yourselves in: you on your back, Nikolai fucking you, and Zoya riding your face, facing her husband. After a moment’s thought, Zoya rose to her knees, straddling your head, bringing one hand to rest on her thigh. “Tap if you need to stop, okay?” “Yes, Zoya, please! Your need was palpable, she didn’t need the dragon’s eye to see that.
With your consent, she lowered herself onto your face, moaning when you attached your lips to her clit, sucking and flicking your tongue over the bundle of nerves. Zoya reached forward and cupped Nikolai’s cheek, pulling him into a hungry kiss. The Prince responded fervently, snapping his hips against yours as he kissed his wife. The room was full of the sounds of moans and cries of pleasure, skin against skin, the slight creaking of the bed frame. The guards stationed outside your rooms were used to such noises, paid well for their discretion, the Fjerdans were not.
Each of you were drawing closer to your peaks; the first to meet theirs being Zoya. The Queen had begun rocking her hips against your face, chasing her orgasm desperately. It crashed over her like a wave, and you moaned against her as she came. When she’d come down from the high, Zoya knelt by your side, kissing your forehead and stroking your hair. “You’re doing so well, Y/N, so well for us. Are you close, love? Are you going to come?”
“Y-yes!” you cried, the knot in your belly growing ever tighter. “Fuck, right there, yes!” “Come, Y/N,” Nikolai rasped. “Fuck, I’ll come with you!” You arched your back as you came, and an instant later, you felt Nikolai spill within you. Zoya kissed you gently, and when she pulled back, the Prince’s lips took her place. He slowly pulled out of you, lying at your side and pulling you into his arms as he did.
“Quite a welcome home, don’t you think?” Nikolai said, and you managed a weak laugh, too blissed out and tired for much else. Zoya kissed you again and entered the en suite bathroom, filling the tub with steaming water. The tub was a new addition, big enough to hold three of you without water sloshing everywhere. Nikolai carried you into the bathroom and sunk into the water with you still in his arms. Zoya joined you sitting at her husband’s side, an arm around his shoulders.
After a few moments, Nikolai began washing you with infinite care, gently lathering your limbs and body with soap while Zoya tended to herself. Then, they switched. Nikolai eased you into Zoya’s arms so he could bathe himself. The Queen dipped your head back, wetting your hair before massaging your shampoo into your tresses. “Eyes open, darling,” she gently chastised when she caught you dozing. “You can sleep soon, but we need to get you clean first.”
Your routine varied depending on who was the most fucked out, who had been the center of attention, but each of you were washed clean and tended to all the same. When the water cooled, Zoya lifted you from the tub, perching you on the counter. She dried your hair while Nikolai rubbed lotion into your skin, whispering praises of your beauty as he did. When you were dry and dressed, they dried and clothed themselves, carrying you back into the bedroom.
You were settled into bed between your lovers, blankets tucked around your shoulders, head on Zoya’s chest, Nikolai’s body spooning you from behind. It was only midday, but what could you say? Your lovers had worn you out. “I love you,” you whispered, feeling your eyelids droop. “Kolya, Zoyachka, I love you.” “And I love you, darling.” “I love you too, milaya.” Kisses were pressed to your skin as you drifted off, and you hoped no more invitations would call your lovers away from you, at least for a while.
#poly!zoyalai#zoyalai#zoya nazyalensky x reader x nikolai lantsov#shadow and bone fanfiction#nikolai lanstov x reader#nikolai lantsov x you#shadow and bone reader insert#zoya nazyalensky x reader#zoya nazyalensky x you#nikolai x zoya#zoya x nikolai#nikolai lantsov x zoya nazyalensky#zoya nazyalensky x nikolai lantsov
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Here’s my “shopping” fic for the @xfficchallenges challenge! Set after “The Goldberg Variation”.
Also tagging @today-in-fic
Ready
Mulder has never put much thought into grocery shopping. In and out in under twenty minutes, buying whatever he could grab the quickest and happy as long as he had orange juice and sunflower seeds. That’s him. Until today, that is. He’s standing in the produce department, leaning over his cart, staring at Scully. Yes, they’re grocery shopping. Together. Sharing a cart and all. What are the odds of that?
They got back from their latest case in Chicago where they left one Henry Weems to his luck. Their own running out, he thought, as they didn’t get to sit next to each other on the plane. They found each other after, Scully rubbing her eyes tiredly and Mulder wondering whether she’d used a stranger’s shoulder as a pillow.
She didn’t have her car and so he offered her a ride. Good partner that he is. Until she remembered that she needed to go grocery shopping. Right now? Yes, right now. That is why he’s in the produce department, between the carrots and the apples, one half of a pair.
Scully is squeezing the tomatoes, scrutinizing them. He’s never seen her like this, in a grocery store. What an odd, strangely intimate moment to observe. He’s seen her naked, scared and hurt, but seeing her bagging tomatoes and licking her lips while doing so is a sight he’s unaccustomed to and wildly unprepared for. As if noticing his stares, Scully turns to him and carefully puts the bag of tomatoes in the cart. Their cart.
“You have to check them,” she says, giving him a side glance, “for ripeness.” She wanders off, knowing he will follow. As he does, one wheel spinning wildly, squeaking madly, he can’t help but wonder one thing:
Are they - him and Scully - ripe, too?
They make it through the aisles, a maze built out of products, barely speaking a word. From the outside, they must look like they do this every week. Exhausted couple goes grocery shopping before the weekend. Mulder looks around, sees other men like him, women like Scully, variations of them both. But are they a couple? Is this why he’s here?
“Don’t you need anything?” Scully asks him as she puts a bag of flour into the cart. He stares into it, sees the small empty corner that he figures must be reserved for his purchases.
“Uhm,” he says, staring at the shelves. What is he supposed to do with flour? He briefly considers buying a bag anyway, just to make Scully happy, but decides against it. They move on, Scully occasionally stopping to load their cart. Mulder makes eye-contact with a father of two small children, who fight over what cereal to buy. He gives him a small nod in acknowledgment and grabs a box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch for himself.
“Look,” he says to Scully, “I’m buying something.” He half expects her to give him a lecture about how cereal is just sugar and wheat, both of which are not good for him. Instead, she gives him a smile and says, “we need milk.”
We.
Not “you need milk”, not “I need milk”. It’s “we need milk”. Mulder quickly glances around, looking for witnesses. Did anyone else hear her say it? She said “we”! In his euphoria, he almost loses Scully. He quickly makes his way through the aisle, wanting to catch up with her. His cart crashes into someone else’s and he gets a dirty look. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except the fact that they need milk.
He’s beginning to think they are as a ripe as the tomatoes Scully bought. Or even overripe.
Scully buys rice, pasta, yogurt and all kinds of reasonable food Mulder hasn’t had in his cupboards for years. If ever. He buys eggs and fresh orange juice, his purchases slowly tipping over to her side of the cart. Scully hands him two bags of sunflower seeds and he takes them from her, his fingers brushing hers in a silent thank you.
He’s lost all sense of time and space. They’re closer to the exit now – he thinks. Only a few aisles remain. Scully dashes into one and he follows, staring at shelves of feminine hygiene products. They’ve come a long way from fruits and vegetables to tampons. Mulder moves on slowly and finds himself in front of condoms. He stares at the colorful selection in front of him. Blue, green, yellow – condoms that glow. It’s been a long time since he’s had to even think about buying a box of condoms.
“Mulder?”
“Hm?” Scully is next to him, her eyes darting between him and the condom selection.
“I’m done here,” she says, the words drawn out. “Do you need… these?” He can’t look at her. She’s pointing at one of the boxes that reads “x-tra large”, waiting for his answer.
“Do I need these?” He parrots back and dares to look at her. Now he definitely feels like a tomato. Ripe or not, he knows they’re a matching color.
“How would I-,” but she stops herself. They’re almost there. He can hear the incessant beep-beep of the checkout counter. “You don’t need them,” she says, meeting his eyes.
“I don’t.”
Scully shakes her head. “Unless you have plans this weekend that don’t include me.”
“No plans,” he interrupts her. “No plans other than… this.” He makes a hand gesture towards the shopping cart. He can no longer say which items are hers and which are his. He’s beginning to realize that Scully never planned to keep them apart. They’ve been inching towards the inevitable since New Year’s Eve and his half-drugged, tender kiss. Maybe even before that. Ripe, he thinks again. They really are.
“Then we don’t need them.” The “we” is back and he likes this “we” - and its implications - even better.
“Or we could try out the glowing ones.” He beams at her. Not because of his joke. Well, not entirely. It’s because he understands now. He gets to go home with her. He gets to be with her. In every way.
"Maybe next time,” she says. “Ready?”
“I am,” he says, swallowing hard. Scully puts her hand on the cart next to his. They push it towards the checkout together, their pinkies touching in a gentle promise.
#xfficchallenges#i wrote this!#it is DONE#not exactly the way i wanted it#but i still like it okay#hope you guys like!#msr#xf fanfic#my writing#my fic
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on why sexual dimorphism and phrenology are not the same thing
since @guccigramsci so kindly requested that i do this, here’s a quick little analysis on why understanding that sexes are different does not make radfems racist!
to begin, i’m going to define sexual dimorphism and phrenology, so anyone coming into this with a blind eye can understand this and follow along.
sexual dimorphism: the condition in which two sexes of the same species exhibit different characteristics beyond the differences in their sexual organs.
phrenology: the detailed study of the shape and size of the cranium as a supposed indication of character and mental abilities.
so i’m going to begin by dispelling the myth that sexual dimorphism and phrenology are the same thing, since they’re not. sexual dimorphism in humans shows a clear difference between male and female bodies (not accounting for intersex individuals). what’s really cool about humans is that, while we are a species that abides by sexual dimorphism, our structures aren’t too different at all! they’re still more than enough to be noticeable, however.
humans, for the vast majority of us, differ in the following ways:
1. males have narrower hips while females have wider ones. the female pelvis is larger than the male pelvis, which is more compact and narrower. the male pelvis is also less tilted than the female pelvis. (sources: b, e, f, g, k)
2. males are larger than females (in both weight and height). (sources: a, g)
3. females have more breast tissue than males. they are nearly the same, save from the fact that females develop means for the production of milk. (sources: h, i)
4. the fat distributions in males and females are vastly different. females naturally hold more body fat than males, as female bodies account for the care of a growing baby while males do not. females and males also store fat in different areas. females often will store fat in the butt, hips, and thighs, while males will often store fat in the stomach. (sources: c, d)
5. the skulls of males and female are different. females have a more rounded forehead and more rounded eye sockets. males have squarer jawlines, while females have more pointed ones. female skulls are lighter than male skulls. (sources: a, j, k)
sources for these claims: a, b, c, d, e, f, g, h, i, j, k
sometimes, there are outliers! there are outliers in every species, after all. but statistically speaking, these are some of the ways in which males and females differ biologically due to sexual dimorphism. (again, humans are on the lower end of the spectrum of abiding by it, but we still do!)
my arguments: acknowledging sexual dimorphism as a biological fact is not the same as acknowledging phrenology as a biological fact. acknowledging sexual dimorphism as a biological fact also does not make a person racist.
1. sexual dimorphism, while not as extreme in humans as it is in other species, has been proven to exist in humans (look at all of the sources above). while this can be shown in the differences between male and female skulls, that is not only not the only evidence for sexual dimorphism, but it also is based in biology and not a pseudoscience.
2. male and female is a biological reality. sex is a biological reality. gender is not. race is not. @guccigramsci seems to be claiming that race is a biological reality (X), but to claim that women of color have different bone structures than white women is often the same racist logic that TRAs will use to claim that trans women are women, since black women are women. in my claim that race is a social construct, i am saying that the differences between people within the same race have the same variance as the differences of people between different races (X). oftentimes, people will claim that you can tell someone’s race by their skull alone, but that is not entirely true. some anatomical features are more commonly found among certain races, but that does not make said anatomical feature a certainty for that race.
“...can you really determine race from a jawbone? Probably not. Forensic anthropologists try to infer the ancestry, gender, and age of human remains by measuring their dimensions and observing their features with the naked eye. ...researchers have compiled a number of mandibular traits... that they think differ slightly between races. ...Racial classification is an inexact science, if that’s even the right word for it. Forensic anthropologists never make definitive ancestry pronouncements. They say a bone is “consistent with” European ancestry or “likely” of Asian ancestry. ...the discipline has its roots in the pseudoscientific 19th-century practice of using skull measurements to prove Caucasion intellectual superiority.”
3. race is a social construct, not a biological one. "If separate racial or ethnic groups actually existed, we would expect to find “trademark” alleles and other genetic features that are characteristic of a single group but not present in any others. However, the 2002 Stanford study found that only 7.4% of over 4000 alleles were specific to one geographical region. Furthermore, even when region-specific alleles did appear, they only occurred in about 1% of the people from that region—hardly enough to be any kind of trademark. Thus, there is no evidence that the groups we commonly call “races” have distinct, unifying genetic identities.” (i’ve already cited this source above but this section in particular is incredibly important).
“In one example that demonstrated genetic differences were not fixed along racial lines, the full genomes of James Watson and Craig Venter, two famous American scientists of European ancestry, were compared to that of a Korean scientist, Seong-Jin Kim. It turned out that Watson... and Venter shared fewer variations in their genetic sequences than they each shared with Kim.”
4. phrenology (the claim that you can tell a person’s personality by seeing what the bumps in their skull are) and sexual dimorphism (observing the differences between secondary-sex characteristics in males and females) are not comparable. (X - this source shows the difference between craniology and phrenology, and even straight up says that race is an indefinite science and sex is not)
in conclusion: i’m not a nazi you dork ass loser lmao
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Pierced (Part 2)
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Summary: You let Peter take a closer look of your new piercings
Word Count: 1546
Warning: Smut
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On the way up to your hotel room, Peter ran to his own quickly so he could change out of his wet swim trunks and so that you could change as well.
Now you sat waiting for Peter in your pajama shorts and tank top, which you conveniently forgot to wear a bra with so you could see the piercing through it.
You were buzzing with nerves and excitement as you waited for him in anticipation, not quite believing what you said to him. You felt your heart leap when you heard the rather frantic knocks on your hotel door, and you quickly jumped up to answer it, seeing a nervous Peter in sweatpants and a t-shirt. You pulled him into the room, letting the door shut before anyone could spot him outside the room if they had been happening to walk by.
"H-hi." He stuttered out breathlessly, smiling nervously as he shifted on his feet.
You smiled back. "Hey Pete." You said sweetly, a slightly teasing tone underlying your words.
"So...um- h-how is this- uh- how are we doing this." He cleared his throat awkwardly, a dark blush covering his cheeks as his eyes drifted down to your chest.
Your heart jumped at how nervous he was, finding it completely endearing. "Well." You started. "When you hit a home run you don't go straight to second base you..." You trailed off, waiting for him to complete the thought.
His eyebrows shot up in realization, "...Y-you go to first?" He phrased as a question and you silently nodded. "S-so I can kiss you?"
You laughed lightly, "I asked you up here to go a little farther than kissing, so yes Pete we can kiss." You grasped his wrist and pulled him with you to your bed and the two of you sat down on the side next to each other, knees touching.
You placed a hand on his shoulder in attempt to calm him down, since he was fidgeting so much. "Relax Peter, it's just me."
"That just makes me more nervous." He mumbled quietly.
You couldn't help but blush at his words. You slowly moved your hand to the back of his neck, gently playing with his brown curls. The two of you sat in a tense silence, eyes flicking between each other's eyes and lips, before you finally leaned in.
You pressed your lips against his tentatively, his own responding to yours clumsily.
Admittedly it was a very awkward, very teenage kind of kiss. Both of you weren't very experienced in this area and it showed, but nevertheless it was perfect. Because it was with Peter and no one else.
Your lips continued to move with each other, finally finding an okay rhythm that didn't have your noses and teeth bumping every two seconds. His hand came up to gently cradle your jaw, his thumb gently brushing your cheek and you sighed blissfully into the kiss.
Neither of you had any clue as to how long you had been kissing but you eventually pulled away, Peter's lips following yours before you pulled away completely.
"Now, although I wish we could continue doing that, it wasn't the only reason I invited you up here." You said, biting your lip.
Peter swallowed nervously. "Um- before we continue, I-I just wanna say that I really really really like you."
"That's good." You smiled. "Because I really really really like you too." You said with a giggle, making Peter sigh in relief as he grinned back.
You moved farther onto the bed, sitting criss cross, Peter following your movements as he sat the same way across from you now, close enough so your knees touched each others.
You watched how his eyes continued to flick from your face to your chest, waiting for you to do or say something.
"I guess it's now or never." You chuckled nervously to yourself, your hands gripping the bottom of your tank top. "So uh- you ready?" He silently nodded, not trusting his own voice.
Peter held his breath and unconsciously leaned in as you slowly started to pull your tank top upwards, revealing more and more skin. You stopped for a second as you were just under your breasts, gauging his reaction and also preparing yourself to get half naked in front of the boy you've had a crush on for a while. After a second you finally tugged the tank top completely off, throwing it onto the ground.
Peter's eyes were wide as they were trained on your breasts. He was redder than ever and he was sure he forgot how to breath. He shifted slightly as he felt himself harden. You had two straight barbells in your nipples, with two shiny white rhinestones on either end of the barbell.
"...They're r-really pretty." He said, voice coming out higher pitched than he would have liked.
"Thank you." You giggled.
Peter's fingers twitched as he thought about touching them. "Um..c-can I..." He trailed off.
"Touch?" You finished for him.
"Y-yeah." He nodded. "It won't like... hurt, right?"
You shook your head. "No, they're healed. They're um- they're actually more sensitive now that I got them done, so it'll feel good." You said, biting your lip as he nodded in response.
You watched as he shifted again and raised his hand, leaning closer to you. You chose to watch his face, feeling as his thumb lightly brushed over your nipple lightly, making your breath hitch.
He bit his lip, focusing all of his attention to your breast. He then lightly touched it with his pointer and middle finger before feeling a little more courageous, tugging lightly on the bar.
You hadn't expected him to pull on the jewelry making a whimper fall past your lips. His eyes snapped up to your face, and he pulled his hand back. "S-sorry, did I hurt you?"
You quickly shook your head, "No, it was good, d-do it again."
Peter's eyes lit up and he returned his hand to your breast, beginning to play with the jewelry and your nipple again.
You felt your body heat up at the pleasure as you felt yourself getting wetter and wetter by the second. Peter watched in awe as your head tilted back and eyes fluttered shut as quiet moans left your lips, and he suddenly wanted more of you.
"C-come here." He said quietly, lightly pulling on one of your legs with his free hand.
You understood what he meant and uncrossed your legs, Peter following suit to make room on his lap so you could straddle his legs.
His lips latched onto your neck and began leaving wet kisses in their wake, as you tilted your head to the side. Peter brought up his other hand to play with your neglected nipple. You whimpered louder this time at the feeling of his lips and how sensitive your nipples felt as he continued to pull and lightly rub them. You could feel how hard he was as you were now seated on his lap and it made you bite your lip to hold back another wanton moan.
He kissed down your neck and over your collar bones until he reached the space between your breasts. Peter looked up at you admiring how much pleasure you seemed to be in and he couldn't help but feel prideful knowing that it was because of him. He glanced back down at your chest and felt an urge to wrap his lips around one of your nipples.
So he did just that.
Peter's lips ghosted over your breast until he reached the nipple and he quickly replaced his hand with his mouth.
"Fuck Peter!" You moaned again, pressing yourself down on his cock, pulling a groan from him. His free hand went down to grip your hip, to get you to move against him more to which you easily complied.
Your hands tugged on his hair as you felt his tongue swirl around your nipple and flick at the jewelry. Both of you moaning as you sped up your hips against him. "Holy fuck Peter, that feels so good." You moaned out in a high pitched voice.
Peter looked up at you again and quickly unlatched his lips from your nipple and muttered. "You look so pretty (N/N), you're such a pretty girl." You whimpered at his praise, and grinded against him faster as he reattached his lips onto your nipple, and you felt a knot forming in your stomach.
"I-I think I'm gonna cum Pete." His grip tightened on your hip as he guided your movements better, lips and his free hand still stimulating both nipples. And you could tell that he loved the piercings.
Peter groaned louder, hinting that he wasn't too far behind cumming either, but just as you were about to fall over the edge you both heard three knocks from your hotel door.
"Room check." You both heard being said from the other side by one of the chaperoning teachers.
The two of you stopped immediately, Peter pulling away and looking up at you with frightened eyes as you looked down at him with the same expression.
"Shit." You both hissed.
~~~
A/N: Sorry for cockblocking Peter and Y/N
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Permanent Taglist:
@Spiderdudeparker @peterparkers-waffles @smexylemony @ultimategalaxyprogram @xxxxdelenaxxxx @chonisberonica @meaningoflifeisfandoms @aegis-s-s @Just-random-stuff-18 @etherealhollandd @yourwonderbelle @roi-yang @ironspiderstark @runningoutofwordstosay @retroparkers @marvelismylifffe @marvelhoeingismyhobby @thebadtruth @loud-binch @cosmicparkerr @thechickvic @magiclolipopqueen @httpmcrvel @parkeroffline @yang-seubinnie @lou-la-lou @all-of-the-fandom-trash @lovesaweed @your-1up-girl @kels-xoxo @spidermxnstan @zicoskokoro @tastyarreaga @etudaire-writes @heartbeats-wildly @stuffandstuff-stuff @ixchel-9275 @tra-gicx @drama-llama-04
@marvelrreigns @sargentjamesbarnes @capsassx3000 @xximaweirdoxx @r-wooooosh @swagsoulpenguin @sunflowerhollland @littlegreenpill @pastelpinkbubbles @tomxdaya @hiss-undying-fidelity @mama-jeonghan @hell-yeah-peter-parker @tommyhollandaisesauce @importantfireeaglefish @megabobtastic
Peter Parker Taglist:
@i-alyssa @justkeepdreaminganddreaming @alyssaaaas-stuff @desia2
Pierced Taglist:
@deansbbysblog @eridanuswave @carry-on-my-wayward-spiderboy
#peter parker#peter parker smut#peter parker x reader#peter parker x y/n#peter parker x you#spiderman x reader#spiderman#tom holland#tom holland smut#tom holland x reader#peter parker imagine#spiderman smut#spiderman x y/n#spiderman x you#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland imagine#tom holland x y/n#tom holland x you#peter parker fanfiction#spiderman imagine
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