#bisexuals have been done dirty for way to long. it’s time to change that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

prolix-yuy · 1 year

Note

I have never, ever asked anyone for an ask before so I don't know any of the rules for these things. For the pairing, can we ask for a pairing like Marcus Pike x Jack Daniels x Reader (cause Double Agents is a Mood™️ and a Vibe™️) or like either of those Singular x Reader.

And it's ME, so obviously I have to choose "CHAOS and order" as the topic. Chaos is my middle name after all.

Also please feel free to make this as explicit as possible. I mean, as you'd like.

If I did this wrong and I should change something let me know because like I said I've never done this before, so it is to YOU - Tumblr Crush Bestie - that I am losing my ask virginity. Seems fitting! 😉

Aynsley. Oh Aynsley. You come into my house and ask for filth? For chaos? To be as EXPLICIT AS POSSIBLE?

I am happy to provide, my dear Tumblr Crush Bestie!

Sorry it's taken so gosh-darn long, these three were taking their sweet time figuring out the threesome twister game. I hope you enjoy!

Two Truths and a Lie

Pairing: Jack "Whiskey" Daniels x F!Reader x Marcus Pike

Summary: If you said you didn't want what these two men have in store, you'd be a liar.

Word Count: 6.3k (YOU'RE WELCOME)

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, descriptions of male and female bodies, m/m dynamics, mmf dynamics, breast play, biting, oral sex (m and f receiving), handjobs, brief rimming, use of anal plug, anal sex (m receiving), face sitting, PiV sex, everyone's bisexual, aftercare, dirty talking because I'm a slut for it.

Notes: I've been teasing this for so long and it's finally arrived! And I'm embodying the 'chaos' in the request by barely editing this. Should I have? Maybe. Will I deny us any of the filth these three get into? Absolutely not. Enjoy my lovelies!

The first time you lied you didn’t even know what you were doing. Barely speaking full sentences and you pushed a boy over in the playground. He was loud, mean, and you were so full of emotions your little body had to retaliate. But when the teacher came over and asked what happened, you lied.

“He fell.”

The boy was too embarrassed to admit it was you, ushered away by the teacher. And you basked in a new feeling that would grow to be your constant companion: the elation of getting away with it.

Now, much later in life, you’d perfected lying. You lied like you breathed. Tells well hidden, truths spread like jam on burnt bread, just enough to hide the taste. You didn’t want to be punished, or caught. It wasn’t about waiting for someone to call you out. Lying was a language you spoke fluently and without equal, and was a competition with only yourself as audience.

Take tonight, for example. You’d lied to your friends that you didn’t feel well enough to go out. You’d lied to the bartender about why you were here. You’d even lied to the Uber driver, who could care less why you were coming to a swank hotel bar this late at night. But that’s three unsuspecting participants and three more tallies on the invisible scoreboard.

The truth, not that you’d ever say it, was that you were bored. Endlessly, achingly bored. If you had to listen to one more pregnancy story, or upcoming wedding plans, or theorize on whatever show everyone was watching this time, you might actually scream. So tonight you forewent the Mexican restaurant your friends love and came here.

The bar is lush in a way that makes you salivate. Burgundy velvet chairs flank dark leather Chesterfield couches, artfully arranged to create the illusion of privacy underneath the cathedral ceilings. Royal blue and black brocade wallpaper flanks you as you approach the bar, black walnut wrapped around a towering wall of liquor. The stools glint gold as you slide onto one, balancing delicately. It’s not until you put in your drink order and settle back that you see them.

Once you do, you’re not sure how they escaped your observation. Two men seated at a high top overlooking city lights, casually sipping from rocks glasses. One is clean shaven, short haired and neatly dressed. Corporate attire - a tidy suit, tie, crisp white shirt. His face is soft in the table’s candlelight, eyes crinkled in the corners enough to know he enjoys himself without reservation.

The other man holds some of the same features - large hands swirling alcohol in his tumbler, dark hair and eyes, a broad build - but the similarities end with the confidence he’s exuding. His outfit is more cowboy chic, dark jeans and a gray suit jacket over a light pink shirt with a peek of suspenders under the lapel. His boots hook over a stool rung, tilted back as his companion leans forward. The smirk painting his face paired with his teasing eyes quirks a smile of your own. Definitely cocksure, and possibly for good reason if those tight jeans were anything to go by.

Then the cowboy reaches across the table and pinches the other man’s chin between his thick fingers, a softer look gracing his face. The other man flushes a light pink, eyes casting down as his smile turns bashful.

Suddenly you’re too hot, snapping your gaze back to your drink.

Not for you.

Not that you’d assumed either of them would turn their attention your way. They were both your type in a room with surprisingly few options, but the night is young, and your drink has barely been touched. You lift it to your lips for a small sip, letting the liquor burn in the way good sex can light you aflame (an experience you’d been low on lately) when a voice murmurs at your shoulder.

“Drinking alone?”

The blushing companion is now at your elbow, respectful but close enough that it makes your skin tingle. He leans on the bar, nodding once to the bartender with a smile before redirecting his attention back to your purposefully neutral expression.

“For now,” you reply cryptically, taking a sip of your drink as you peek at him over the rim. His smile widens, a glint of teeth between soft, kissable lips. Shouldn’t have been fantasizing about a conquest tonight, now you’re too keyed in to a man who’s out of your league in several ways.

“Would you like some company while you wait? My partner and I have a table,” he says as two glasses slide into his grasp. You shrug.

“My friends will be here soon.”

Liar.

“Of course. One drink.”

“Only one.”

Liar.

“As the lady wishes.”

One drink turns into two, your wits still about you but your attention pleasingly bewitched by the couple. Marcus, the one who approached, is an FBI agent specializing in art crimes, which you unabashedly question him about while the cowboy smirks in your periphery.

“You can tell the difference between a fake and an original on sight?”

Marcus chuckles into the rim of his glass, tongue peeking out to stop an errant drop.

“Only the very bad ones. The good ones need analysis, imaging, carbon dating. But it’s amazing to see how far someone will go.”

His knee knocks into yours and remains there.

The cowboy’s name is Jack Daniels, which makes you scoff until he raises an eyebrow at you. He even works at a distillery, though he was a field agent in a past life. That’s how he and Marcus met, the mention exchanging fondness that makes you gaze into your own drink for distraction. He orders a round of Statesman as proof of his fine taste, and you have to agree it’s much better than the whiskey most men offer you as though you know nothing of liquor.

He lifts his boot to catch on the low rung of your stool, opening the span of his thighs to you. If you didn’t know better you would think these two were…

“We have a question for you, darlin,” Jack says when the drinks run dry, pinning you with a smirk. You straighten your spine, chin lifted to pre-empt your refusal.

You didn’t want to see what these men might offer.

Liar.

“Marcus saw you come in and thought you were about the prettiest thing he’d laid eyes on. But I’m a little more discerning. I like women to be smarter than me.” You roll your eyes but he keeps on running that smooth Southern drawl. “Which you are. Clearly. So I’m gonna ask you this for the both of us, and it only goes for the both of us. Package deal.”

Your eyes dart between Jack and Marcus, observing their drastically different postures. Marcus is nervous, hands folded tightly in front of him, eyes locked on them as he worries at his lower lip. Jack, on the other hand, is a man negotiating a deal and has all the confidence in the world, though he’s tuned in to Marcus’ discomfort. You wonder briefly if this is how they work best, Jack taking the lead. The thought blares heat across your chest.

“What would you like to ask?” you reply cooly, even though your heart hammers so loud you’re sure they can hear it. It’s under control until Jack’s eyes flick down to your hand worrying at your glass. His gaze flits up - caught.

“We’d like to invite you up to our room,” Jack says simply, leaning back in his seat. Marcus finally tears his eyes from his hands and watches for your reaction. You smirk at them both.

“For a nightcap?” you ask innocently, but the dark humor that spreads over Jack’s face shakes your resolve.

“No, darlin, we’d like to invite you into our bed. If that’s favorable to you, of course,” Jack says, the game ping-ponging between you as Marcus watches.

“I assumed I wasn’t your type,” you stall, interrogating yourself about the offer. Did you want to let them lead you away from here?

You’re definitely not bored anymore. If anything you’re aching at the thought.

“You are,” Marcus interjects, pulling your attention from Jack’s intense stare. His face is open, eager, kind. He seems like the kind of man who wears soft sweaters and asks you how your day was and actually listens. What a pair they make.

“I’d like to have an idea of what I’m getting myself into before agreeing to anything,” you say, but your voice is getting shakier by the minute. Marcus slides his hand across the table, fingertips lightly grazing the back of your hand. It’s grounding, comforting.

Electric.

“Safety for everyone, of course. Protection all around,” Jack says, speaking in a low voice that urges you to lean forward. It gives him the opportunity to graze his fingers along your thigh in a featherlight touch that burns you with arousal. “Marcus likes it when I take charge, but you’re our guest so whatever your comfort level is, we’ll respect. If you’d like to take a break or end it at any time, we stop.”

Then Jack leans in and destroys the final barriers between you and your decision.

“We both like to eat pussy, and will make you cum several times before fucking you. Marcus likes to be inside while I fuck him, but I’d like to feel you squeeze around me too. I won’t leave marks if you ask, but I like to use my mouth, and my teeth. Marcus wants to kiss you, often, and very thoroughly. He might be quiet now, but he’s vocal as hell when you get him riled up. I’m likely to never shut up unless my mouth’s busy.”

Your breath is coming in quick pants now, Marcus’ fingers sliding along the back of your hand to open your fist and slip inside. Jack’s heavy hand on your thigh feels like all that’s keeping you held to the earth. Sensing your hesitation, Marcus leans in and breathes into your ear.

“Would you like that, sweetheart?”

You don’t hear your agreement over the rushing in your ears, but their twin smiles of satisfaction confirm it.

Staring into the mirror and psyching yourself up to leave the bathroom, you adjust your lingerie for the eighth time. Mauve lace clings to your breasts, your hips, just opaque enough to be pretty instead of lewd. In this moment you wish it was more exciting, more daring for these men who offered you a spot in their bed. How tame you must seem after all the bravado you showed in the bar.

You’re not ready for this.

Liar.

Gathering up your last bit of courage, you saunter into the hotel bedroom. You’d left Jack and Marcus there fully clothed, knowing smiles and the beginnings of flirty touches the last thing you’d seen. Now, you’re treated to a much more mouthwatering sight.

Jack is seated on the edge of the bed, jacket discarded and suspenders loose by his thighs. His shirt is messy and untucked, one final button around his stomach holding on for dear life after all the others abandoned their posts. His pants are open, and as you come to a stop you’re treated to Marcus’ deep groan as he swallows Jack’s cock to the base. His throat works as Jack tips his head back and sighs, hips gyrating a fraction against Marcus’ eager mouth.

Fuck, it’s hot and drives a spike of arousal straight to your cunt. Marcus’ strong back, bare and rippling across Jack’s lap, begs for your fingers to dig into his meaty shoulders. You catch him palming at his crotch, big brown eyes opening to look up at Jack. He’s rewarded with thick fingers carding through his short brown hair, pulling back to breathe heavily on the tip of Jack’s cock before descending again.

“Gorgeous, isn’t he?” Jack rasps when you realize you’ve been staring too long. His hand extends to you, and for a moment you think it’s better to leave them to it. They clearly have history, and chemistry. You don’t belong here.

Liar.

You slide your hand into Jack’s, letting him lead you to sit beside him. Sinking into his side, he gives you the perfect view to look down at Marcus’ thorough deep-throating. His eyes drag up, and the hand gripping Jack’s thigh now comes to rest on yours. He’s firm but gentle, kneading the flesh there.

“I’d like to kiss you, sweetheart,” Jack whispers into the shell of your ear, dragging his lips just to your neck to press a featherlight kiss. You’re hesitant, but he lets you breathe against his mouth before leaning forward just enough to press your lips together. The wet mouth noises Marcus is choking out below you are a strange soundtrack to the sweetness of Jack’s kiss. He plies you with a few more, fuller, more forceful, before dragging his tongue over the seam of your lips. You part eagerly for him, meeting his full stroke with your quicker tongue. Jack groans into your mouth, the beginning of a smile curling against the corner of your lips.

“Now him,” he says, leaning back and guiding your head down to Marcus. He slips off Jack’s wet cock, jutting thick and proud, and rises on his knees to take your head in his hands. There’s less hesitation here; you melt fully into Marcus’ kiss. Jack was right, Marcus kisses thoroughly, patiently, diving deep before pulling back to let you breathe. It builds a fire under your skin, your nails digging into his shoulders.

Distantly you feel Jack’s thick fingers unclasp your bra, then his hands - callused in places that made you wonder if he was a real cowboy once - guide you to lay back on the bed. You part from Marcus with a small sigh, but Jack follows you down, the scrape of his mustache on your throat as he slips his thumb over your kiss-swollen lips. Settling on your back, Marcus’ hands slide under your knees and soon the smooth expanse of his back surges under your calves.

“Look at this,” Marcus hums, stroking down your thighs. Jack hums in agreement as he slips your bra off, the cool air tightening your nipples. “Anything you don’t like, sweetheart?” Jack’s mouth distracts you as he blows across the swell of your breast, making your back arch at the sensation.

“No teeth,” you say, finally hazarding a look down your body at the men driving you to madness. Jack looks visibly disappointed, which makes you tug at his well-coiffed locks. “For him, not you.” Marcus breaks into a smile and honest-to-goodness chuckles between your legs, and Jack winks up at you before a slip of pink tongue wraps around your nipple. Any further instruction is wiped from your mind as you arch into the clever heat of his mouth, paired with the squeeze of his other hand around your neglected breast. His teeth graze your nipple, hips rolling involuntarily before getting pressed firmly into the bed.

“Can’t wait to taste this,” Marcus murmurs, and two fingers slide underneath the gusset of your panties, knuckles dragging through your folds. He leaves open-mouthed kisses below your bellybutton, dragging his nose down to smell you through the thin lace. You want so desperately to focus but so many hands pulling you apart so effortlessly has your eyes rolling up into your head and your body writhing.

Finally, Marcus licks a wide path along your lacy slit as Jack rolls your nipple between his fingers and you keen out a desperate moan.

“Oh, baby, sounds like someone needs you to make her cum,” Jack teases into your neck, sliding his hand down and into your panties to tease your aching clit. Marcus is still licking along the lace, pressing his tongue at your entrance just enough that their touches light up every nerve carrying pleasure to your lust-soaked brain.

“Let me take these off you and get you all over my face,” Marcus purrs, lifting your hips to drag the last scrap of clothing off your body. They’re both still half-clothed and looking at you like a goddess draped across the bed, and it almost makes you balk.

Liar. It makes you even more excited.

Jack removes his fingers, sucking them into his mouth with a low hum while Marcus noses your inner thigh. You can’t stop your legs from trembling, but Marcus’ firm grip steadies you as he finally licks a slow path through your folds.

“Oh fuck,” you gasp, arching into the pillows as Jack presses your hips back on the bed.

“He’s good, ain’t he? Wicked tongue on him, and I swear he’s half fish, never needs to come up for air,” Jack teases, pressing his body against your side and stroking through Marcus’ short hair. He nips at your earlobe as Marcus begins lapping rhythmically at your entrance, his nose firm on your clit and his jaw bobbing against you. The waves of his tongue, the jolt of that hawkish nose, the dark pride simmering in his eyes as he watches you, all burn under your skin. Your orgasm is fast approaching, nipples tight and aching. Sliding your thumb over one, you coax the honey-sweet ache of arousal out against Marcus’ tongue. Jack notices and joins you, stroking his rougher ones over the sensitive buds. His cock ruts lazily against your hip, and you slide your hand around him to pump him in time with your rolling hips.

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re so good,” he praises, sinking his teeth into the top of your breast just hard enough that prickles of pain pull you away from your heady arousal. It slams back into you the moment he releases the sensitive flesh, laving his tongue over the indents his teeth left behind.

“C’mon baby, that’s it, you’re so close,” Marcus encourages between your legs, lips barely leaving before doubling down. His whole head rocks against your cunt, long licks and drags of his lips and nose and chin through your messy sex. He must be coated in you, thick and tangy across his clean-shaven face. If Jack did the same, he’d carry you in that perfectly groomed mustache.

That image, Jack with his mustache dripping with your release, tightens your core as Marcus urges your hips to roll against him, chasing your orgasm frantically as he growls into your cunt.

“Give it to me, baby, cum on my face, I know you have it right there for me, fucking give it to me. Cum on me. Cum on me now,” he orders, and with Jack’s whispered “He’s been so good, cum for him sweetheart,” you’re tightening around Marcus’ head and shaking through a fucking full-body orgasm. Faintly you hear Marcus chanting, “Yes, yes, that’s it baby, that’s it,” and Jack purring a diatribe of, “Good girl, you’re cumming so good for us, look at that, fucking gorgeous.” The room fades around the edges, the boys all you can focus on. Marcus’ eyes are shining with triumph, wiping his face as he beams up between your legs. Jack hovers over you, pride and sinful promise in his smile.

“That was a very good one, Marcus. Gonna give me a run for my money,” he says, stroking your cheek as you try to come back to the real world from your sky-high journey. The comforting warmth at your side fades as Jack sits up on the bed, tugging Marcus by his hair. Blearily you watch them kiss, tongues peeking out from their pressed lips as Jack tastes you on Marcus. He reaches down and deftly unbuttons Marcus’ pants, shoving everything down to reveal his weeping cock. Jack’s palms it, nodding to Marcus who leans over just enough to spit on his own cock before Jack gives him a few slow, firm strokes. You can tell how much Marcus is affected, mouth dropping into an O as his eyes drifting shut. Jack indulges him a few passes more before pulling a condom out of his pocket.

“Fill her up, pretty boy, she’s been so patient.”

You prop yourself up on shaky elbows as Marcus rolls the condom on, hazy gaze kindling the remains of your orgasm into a new possibility. He slots his hips between your thighs, crawling up your body to kiss you with the remains of your taste on his tongue. Jack stole most of it, but you can still relish in your tang.

“I want to fuck you, baby, can I? I’ll stretch you out good first,” he asks against your lips, the head of his cock resting just on your mound. He fists it and draws circles on your clit with the tip, your spine pulling tight up under him.

“Yes, Marcus, want you inside me,” you gasp, but before he fits his perfect cock inside he pumps two gloriously thick fingers into your cunt, stroking at your velvet soaked walls before curling them wickedly.

“So tight. Fuck, Jack, you’re gonna love this,” Marcus husks, scissoring his fingers and swirling his thumb over your sensitive clit.

“Want to show her what you’ve been hiding, handsome?” Jack asks innocently, but you see goosebumps raise along Marcus’ arms and shoulders when the cowboy nips at his ear, winking at you. “Reach back here, darlin’, and feel,” Jack instructs as you follow the path of his hand around Marcus’ hip. He guides you to the smooth base of the plug in Marcus’ ass, making him shudder when you press your fingers against it.

“He’s been waiting all night for this, would you let me fuck him while he fucks you?” Jack asks. You trace a finger around Marcus’ stretched hole and he drops his head to your shoulder with a choked groan.

“You want that, Marcus? Want to fill me while Jack fills you?” His stuttering breath warms your neck as he nods. Reaching back, you prop yourself up with a couple pillows so you can better watch, your hands cupping Marcus’ face as Jack slowly works the plug out of him. When his mouth drops open you stroke your thumb along his bottom lip, pulling his attention from any discomfort back to you. Marcus empties out a sigh when Jack pulls the sensible black plug from him and places it on the bedside table. He returns with a slim bottle of lube that he dribbles onto his fingers.

“Now Marcus, I want you to put the tip in her and get yourself good and hard while I slide into your pert little ass. Once I’m in and you’re settled I’ll set the pace. Don’t want you hurting yourself.” The gentle instruction warms your skin as Jack smooths his hands over Marcus’ back and sides. He nods and you stroke your fingers through his hair reassuringly.

“You’re gonna feel so good inside me,” you say, circling your hips against his cock as he fists himself again.

“You’re beautiful,” Marcus whispers, and as he wedges just the tip of his thick cock inside you he presses open-mouthed kisses to your neck and shoulder. The shallow stretch makes your toes curl, one of Jack’s hands massaging your calf as his mouth smacks against Marcus’ spine.

“Ready?” he asks one last time.

“Yes, Jack, please…”

The litany of moans and gasps Marcus litters onto your skin lights your arousal further aflame as Jack curses and pushes in. You’re enraptured by the concentration on his face, the tick of his jaw and swipes of his tongue over his lower lip as he thrusts shallowly into Marcus’ tight channel. You can feel every jolt in your cunt when he presses Marcus just a little further forward, burying himself just a little deeper inside you. It’s slow as cold molasses and driving Marcus to bliss. When he begins backing up against Jack you stroke his back, and Jack’s larger hand covers yours.

“Fuck, feel so full,” Marcus manages to say, and Jack leans over to kiss along his shoulders. Your mouth is already at the juncture of his neck, and Jack meets your lips with his own. Marcus turns his head enough to kiss you behind your ear, and to catch the hinge of Jack’s sharp jaw with a scrape of teeth.

“Okay sweethearts, I’m gonna fuck you now. Slow to start. Get our rhythm.” Jack then pulls back and thrusts forward hard enough to bury the rest of Marcus’ length inside you.

“Oh fuck,” you gasp, Marcus already being guided back out before Jack fucks him back into you. “Oh holy shit, ohhhh fuck, yes, please, oh fuck it’s so good,” you moan brokenly, Marcus cupping your cheek and pressing his mouth to yours. You open for him, his tongue plunging into you as he pounds your cunt over and over again. The wet slaps are offset by the slick squelches of Jack’s cock fucking into Marcus, timing his thrusts just right to let you both feel every ridge and vein inside and around you.

“Fuck, you both are so fucking hot,” Jack grits out, one hand gripping your hip, the other Marcus’, as he set a faster pace. Marcus drops to his elbows and rolls his hips harder, snapping into you and back onto Jack. The quiet moans he was hiding before erupt into full-throated shouts, which Jack muffles by shoving his fingers into Marcus’ mouth. He drools around them, and when his glazed eyes meet yours you lick the back of Jack’s knuckles and over Marcus’ lips.

“Filthy girl, knew you were,” Jack pants. “You close, handsome?”

Marcus nods frantically, eyebrows pinching and fisting the sheets as he speeds up from Jack’s rhythm to chase his orgasm. Jack chuckles before folding over you both, crushing Marcus to your chest.

“I’ve got you, baby boy.” With that Jack pounds into you both, Marcus buried so deep you can feel Jack’s thrusts nudge him against your g-spot. You grip their hair, Jack’s eyes locking with yours as he growls through each thrust.

“Call him a good boy, sweetheart.”

“Fuck, Marcus, you’re so good for me, feel so good inside. Cum for me like a good boy, Marcus.”

That’s all it takes, and Marcus is howling into your neck as Jack grinds deep. His cock pulses heavily inside you, the force of his orgasm shivering through his limbs as they lock and release. Finally he lets go, slumping his full weight onto your chest. Jack kisses the back of his neck, fingers stroking down his arms and soothing him through the aftershocks.

“You’ve got a way with him, darlin’, he rarely cums that hard,” Jack coos, sliding his arms around Marcus to guide him off. Rolling him to his back, Jack peppers Marcus’ face with soft kisses as he weakly throws an arm around Jack’s back. His other hand searches for yours, twining your fingers together as he blinks sleepily between you both.

“Shit, that was amazing,” he croaks, sending Jack to the bathroom for a glass of water and to dispose of the condoms. “C’mere, wanna hold you,” he adds, tugging you to curl up against his side. His hands roam your back, nose pressed against your forehead as his rapid heartbeat begins to slow. It’s oddly romantic, happy to give and receive this moment of comfort. But you’re sure it’s the end of the night, and you’ll be fine going back home soon.

Liar.

“Now darlin’, as good of a time as it looks like you were having, I don’t think you came,” Jack says once Marcus has had a good long drink and settled back into the pillows.

“I had plenty of fun,” you say lazily, stroking Marcus’ chest as it rises and falls. Jack tuts and shakes his head, moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Told you I wanted to eat your pussy too. Come sit on my face and let me give you another. Then, if you’re not too tired out, I’ll have you sit on my cock too.”

Heat races over your body, and Marcus unwinds you from his arms.

“Go on, gorgeous, Jack’s tongue is a treat you should never turn down,” he teases. “I’ll be along as soon as I catch my breath.”

Sitting up, you scoot closer to Jack as a strange nervousness settles in. Marcus is so open and easy to read, while Jack’s expressions always seem veiled behind a layer of showmanship and bravado. You find yourself worrying that you won’t be enough for him, for what he wants.

“What’s going through that pretty head of yours?” Jack interrupts your racing thoughts as he strokes his palm up your thigh. You shake your head, forcing a smile on.

“Nothing,” you say, your voice catching in your throat. Jack chews on his lower lip for a moment, then wraps his arms around your waist and guides you onto his lap. Straddling him, you hover as he pets your hips, smooths your back, and noses your neck with a gentle kiss along your collarbone.

“If it’s nerves, honey, then know that I have been looking forward to tasting, and fucking you all night. I want your tits in my mouth, your pussy, your tongue. I want to devour you, you’re so delicious.” He guides your hips down to press against his cock, hard and hot as he slips the soft skin against your wet folds. “You cannot possibly disappoint me, I could cum from your voice alone.”

“Jack…” you breathe, and he leans back, pulling you along with him. Once flat on his back he guides your nipple into his mouth, humming indulgently as he teases the bud with his fast tongue and harsh sucks. You arch into his mouth, the length of his cock grinding against your clit. Switching to the other one, he nips lightly and chuckles when you jolt against him. His large hands paw at your ass, spreading your cheeks and kneading at the supple flesh. He cracks his hand against one with a sharp slap, soothing it with a stroke after. You’re dripping on him now, grinding along his length.

“Perfect, sweetheart, now climb up and put that hot little pussy on my face,” he orders, and all self-consciousness drips away as you climb up his body. Before you settle around his shoulders he taps your hip and guides you to swing around so you’re facing his neglected cock, hovering over his greedy mouth.

“Want your hand around my cock while I eat you out,” he says before pulling you down on his face.

No matter the thorough fucking you just endured, Jack’s thick tongue sends a shudder up your spine, needing to grab his wrists. He hums into your folds, faster flicks than Marcus against your clit.

“I’m gonna drink you down, darlin’,” he purrs into your cunt, canting your hips so he can better seal his pouty lips around your clit. Falling forward, you loosely stroke Jack’s aching cock, throbbing with need after being denied his orgasm. Letting a dribble of spit drip onto his length, you slick him up to take a tighter grip. When your fingers glance over the ridge of his head his stomach tightens, hips rocking up to meet your strokes.

“Your cock is gorgeous, Jack,” you praise, leaning down to place a soft kiss on the tip. The groan he lets out vibrates against your sex, eliciting your own pleasured sigh as he slips his tongue inside you.

“He’s very good at using it,” Marcus says just next to your shoulder, sliding off the bed to kneel between Jack’s knees. He replaces your hand on Jack’s cock, urging you to sit back up on Jack’s face. He worships your breasts with soft sucks and nibbles, working you both up higher and higher. You can feel Jack’s movements getting sloppier, distracted gasps bursting between your legs when he takes a moment to bask in his own pleasure. You weave your hands into Marcus’ hair, scratching along his scalp as he kisses his way up your neck and back to your waiting mouth.

“Mmm, sweetheart he’s not gonna last much longer, and I know he wants to cum in you too. Let me wrap him up and then you can fuck his cock.” Marcus takes a moment to tear open a condom as you shuffle down Jack’s body. His mouth leaves you with a parting lick to your back entrance, the ticklish sensation making you giggle and scratch your nails down his flexing stomach. When you’re hovering over his cock, Marcus’ hand on the base guiding Jack in, he sits up behind you.

“Most beautiful thing I’ll ever get to experience,” Jack murmurs, plastering his chest to your back and wrapping his arms around you. He guides you down as Marcus steadies him in, filling you so differently but so completely.

“Fuck, Jack, you feel amazing,” you croon, head thrown back against his shoulder. Marcus lifts up on his knees to kiss Jack, clever fingers petting at your clit as you lift up just enough to let Jack feel the drag of your tight cunt, then back down to his base to elicit a wanton groan.

“Darlin’, you feel like heaven. Don’t know how Marcus didn’t bust immediately.” Marcus nips his Adam’s apple and switches to mouthing at your throat, both of their lips dancing along the expanse of your sweat-slicked skin. Sandwiched between them, the slide of their bodies against yours is addictive, intoxicating, endless in the pleasure it brings. Your cunt clenches around Jack, and he chuckles darkly in your ear before snapping his hips up into you.

“There’s my good girl, so tight around me. I’m gonna fuck you as hard and long as I can, but fuck me if you don’t feel like the best thing I’ve ever put my cock in.” Jack grabs the back of Marcus’ head and pulls him back to meet eyes. “Lick her clit, pretty boy.”

You didn’t think your arousal could climb any higher, but looking down to see Jack’s length sliding in and out of you paired with Marcus sinking down to lick a stripe from the base of Jack’s cock to your clit almost kills you. Marcus’ boyish smile would be your gravestone if you didn’t remember to breathe.

“Holy fuck,” you choke out as he lays out his thick pink tongue to stroke over and over along your joined bodies.

“Damn right, you’re doing so good for us Marcus,” Jack grits out, pulling you down on his fat cock so you don’t bounce away from Marcus’ talented tongue.

“Could do better,” Marcus says thoughtfully, reaching for the bottle of lube. Slicking up his fingers, he slides his hand down to tease Jack’s rim.

“Fuck, baby, you know how I like that,” Jack groans, bringing a wicked smile to Marcus’ face. Kissing your mound, Jack tenses hard under you with a broken gasp. “Fuckfuckfuckfuck, yes baby, that’s fucking perfect, you keep your fingers right there while I cum in her. Just like that, sweet boy.”

Leaning down you grab Marcus by the jaw and devour him, teeth clacking briefly as you fill his mouth with your tongue. He whimpers below you before you part, lips spit-slicked and slacked.

“Gonna cum, sweetheart, Marcus you better…” Jack threatens but Marcus is already latching his mouth onto your clit, sucking hard and fast while his fingers flex inside Jack. The relentless grind against your g-spot, the ruthless pressure on your clit, the overwhelming ache that can’t build anymore before it needs to go somewhere washes over you, and you cum with a wail on these two gorgeous men. Jack follows as your walls flutter around him, with a litany of, “That’s it baby, your pussy’s so fucking good, I’m…oh shit, I’m cumming, M-Marcus baby don’t stop, don’t you fucking stop, oh shiiiiii…” You faintly wonder if Marcus came again before a spurt of hot cum against your calf answers your question.

The silence that follows, filled with gasps and panting and weak hands on skin, is the moment you dread. It’s the last moment before the peace and quiet in your mind fades, urging you to gather up your clothes and go before you say something or do something that will ruin this. But with Marcus wrapping his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder, and Jack pressed against your back, you have no place to go.

“Thank you, darlin’, that was the most fun I’ve had in a long time, wouldn’t you agree?” Jack says, pressing a line of kisses from behind your ear to the curve of your shoulder. Marcus leans back and thumbs your chin, tired eyes and a loose smile.

“Definitely. Can we take care of you now, sweetheart?”

Your eyebrows must have pulled up into a frown, because Marcus chuckles just a little and cradles your head.

“What, you thought we’d fuck you and make you leave?” he teases, and you have to school your face carefully. You didn’t expect them to be this caring, or kind.

Liar.

Then you didn’t expect them to want more than your body once they were through.

Liar.

Then what did you expect?

Marcus thankfully speaks, similar to that that soothing way Jack enticed you here.

“Well then, I’m going to take you into the shower to clean you up, and Jack’s gonna make the bed and join us after. Once we’re clean and hydrated, I’m going to put on The Thin Man and we’re going to get into bed together. If you’re not comfortable spending the night, I understand. But I - we - want you to. Not just because tomorrow morning I want to wake you up with both of our heads between your legs.” Jack slides out of you and holds you in his arms, nuzzling into the back of your neck.

“I don’t…” you try to say, both men waiting patiently. “I didn’t expect this. I don’t know what to do now.”

Liar.

You know exactly what to do.

Stay.

Marcus’ lopsided smile and Jack’s pressed into your skin are promises you never asked for, but would gladly accept.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ve got you.”

END

#jack whiskey daniels x reader x marcus pike #marcus pike x reader x jack whiskey daniels #jack whiskey daniels x reader #jack daniels x female reader #jack daniels x reader #agent whiskey x reader #whiskey x reader #marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x reader #prolix fics

374 notes · View notes

whiskeynwriting · 1 year

Text

Sloth

Dieter Bravo x Female Reader

◆

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) drug use, dirty talk, praise kink, tiny daddy kink, oral (m receiving), handjob, light nipple play, rimming, mentions of bisexuality, unprotected vaginal sex, cumplay, established relationship, fluffies

◆

A/N: co-written with @phnyx beta-read by her and @fishingforpike can’t stop won’t stop lmao

For some reason I find myself feeling incredibly iffy on this one, and I never feel this way. It could be because there’s a new element in here that I’ve never written before, or the fact that this one is a little shorter than “Pride and Envy” and “Gluttony”. Either way, I hope you enjoy my lovelies <3 don’t hesitate to let me know your thoughts

◆

Sintober Masterlist

Join My Taglist!

◆

It isn’t unusual for him to be this stubborn, nor is it for him to be so self-absorbed. But in a certain sense, you were attracted to it; and in that same sense, you hated yourself for it. How can a human live in a state of perfect balance while being in such disarray?

When you came back, you walked directly into a cloud of smoke; not exactly a rare occurrence, nor an unpleasant one. Dieter had basically hot-boxed the room, and you could care less. It’s not like it’s your house. The two of you were staying out of state for a movie he was shooting, this luxury hotel being your home until he was done with his work here. And since your job was remote, setting up shop with your laptop at cafes became your regular routine.

He’d glanced up briefly when you walked in, giving you a barely-there nod before his brown eyes returned to the magazine in his hands, likely browsing some gossipy cover. He was tired, you didn’t have to know him to know that. While lounging on the couch, he usually wore his signature pajamas, the exact outfit he slipped into every time he came back from set. Those loose, striped pj pants, that long, pukish-green robe, and a purple short-sleeved shirt. But he must not have done his laundry last night, because today, he’s wearing something different, and wearing much less.

“You were never good at these.” You tease him, sliding your tongue along the edge of the paper.

“Yeah…” He sighs, leaning further back. “Don’t know why, though.”

Dieter had always been good at rolling joints, he just liked to watch you do it. Or rather, he liked to watch your little fingers work, your tongue sliding along the paper shortly afterwards. You have a knack for it, he’ll give you that.

After changing into some comfier clothes, you sat on the ground between the coffee table and couch, leaning against the cushions. Dieter was lying sideways, wearing that fluffy, dark brown coat that makes him look like a giant teddy bear, and he wasn’t wearing anything underneath it. The edges of it hang off his sides, draping onto the couch. The only other thing he’s wearing besides his jewelry is an incredibly old pair of dark gray boxers, short enough for you to see his teeny elephant tattoo. Reaching out, you gently poke it, tracing it with your fingernail. And it makes him giggle.

“Quit it.” He says playfully, smiling. He’s so ticklish.

But you still sigh, aggravated with him. You’d been asking him for attention, any kind of sexual or romantic touch, but he didn’t seem to be in the mood today. Now, don’t get him wrong, Dieter was just as sex crazed as he always was; he could never get enough. If he had the energy, he’d fuck you on the couch right now. It’s the fact that he’s so incredibly tired from his day, so exhausted that he’s unwilling to even try. Dieter had so many talents and knowing how to please you was definitely one of them. But on his lazier days, he just didn’t feel like using them.

“Dieter, please.” You beg, whining beside him as you hand him the joint.

Happily, he takes it, immediately lifting it to his lips with the lighter already lit in his other hand. His lips connect once on the bud resting on his lower lip, inhaling deeply.

“Aren’t you happy to see me?” It comes out as a small whimper, even though you don’t mean it to. But it makes him look over at you, furrowing his eyebrows slightly.

The joint held between Dieter’s lips continues smoking from the end, now setting down the lighter he’d just used. With a heavy sigh and a small grunt, he changes his positioning, now sitting up to address you.

“Of course I am.” He reassures you in that gravely baritone; oh, he really is so tired today, isn’t he?

Giving him your best innocent eyes, you then ask, “Then why don’t you want me?”

It’s the funniest thing, you being aroused by him right now. You came home to a completely baked, slightly buzzed, entirely soft Dieter. The man looked like he hadn’t showered since he’d been home nor washed his clothes in days. His hair is a mess, his outfit is ridiculous, and his surroundings couldn’t be messier. But to you, this was Dieter. Chaotic, lazy, disheveled Dieter. He’s your baby boy, your puppy dog, your big teddy bear. And even though he didn’t always take care of himself, he always made sure to take care of you.

“Oh kitten,” Dieter lifts a hand to run it over his face, releasing another heavy groan of a sigh. “I’m too tired. Don’t you know aallll I do in a day?”

He looks down to see you pouting, and you’re not faking it, either. “Sweetie,” He continues softly, “I had four fittings today, I’m exhausted! A star like me needs his time to relax, not do anything.” He waves a flimsy hand in the air, taking another puff of weed.

“You never do anything,” You mumble, glancing down while twiddling your fingers. “Not when you’re home. Not with me.”

“You know that isn’t true.” He furrows his brows at you, exhaling the smoke.

“Not lately.” You reply in that same mumbly tone.

“I fucked you last night, sweetheart.” Leaning down, he gently taps your chin with his thumb. “Remember when I made you drool?”

You do remember, you remember it all too well. Dieter had you from behind, pinned down beneath his weight with a fist in your hair. Your knuckles still ache from how hard you were clutching your shared bedspread, your throat still a little hoarse from how many times he’d slid down the length of it. It also didn’t help that you were moaning for two-plus hours.

“Baby,” Comes your sudden gasp of a whine. “I want it, I want it again.”

Sure, Dieter was sex-crazed. But you could be, too.

“Dammit kitten,” He chastises gently, “You can be such a needy little thing.”

Usually when he says you’re needy, it means he’s going to take advantage of it. But not this time.

Laying back to breathe in the smoke once again, he sighs. “Can’t be bothered; daddy’s tired.”

“Dee,” Comes your second whine of the night, that small word a reference to more than just his given name.

Your head is leaning against the couch cushion, resting just beside his outer knee. Reaching between his legs, you slide your hand along his inner thigh, smoothing your palm over the center of his boxers. Looking over his form, you eye his jewelry, his tattoos, the sight of them making your throat feel dry, a tingle shooting through your thighs. And he hums out a gravely sigh.

“You want it that bad, huh?” Dieter then asks, a lazy eyebrow raised. Your eyes meet his, nodding just a little for him.

The space beneath your palm rises just the slightest bit, hardening from your touch. While keeping his gaze, you smile. He’s so easy to excite.

“Well,” He sighs, shrugging while giving you a teasing grin. “If you want it so bad, you’ll have to do it yourself, kitten.”

In all honesty, Dieter isn’t sure what you’ll do with this proposal. Will you huff and walk away? Touch yourself in the bedroom until you’re satisfied? Or will you stay frustrated with him, waiting until late in the night or early tomorrow when he’ll likely want to fuck? Lucky for him though, he’s pleasantly surprised.

“You want me to do the work today, baby?” You then ask, giving his semi a little squeeze. “Hm?”

“Oh…” Mouth dropping open, he nods. For a second there he really thought he wasn’t getting any tonight. “Hell yeah I do.” With a smile on his face, he wiggles his hips on the cushions, eagerly awaiting your next move.

“Huh,” You tut, clicking your tongue while staring up at him. “You sure seem to have some energy now.”

“Well,” He shrugs, rolling his eyes with a grin. And then he shifts again, situating his legs on either side of you. You laugh.

“You don’t even know what I’m about to do!”

“I know what I want you to do.”

“Selfish.” You roll your eyes, only partly joking. But he’s right, you were heading in this direction.

“Yeah, but you like it.” He shrugs again, leaning even further back.

God dammit, how could one man be so lazy yet so cocky? Although, when Dieter wasn’t feeling lazy, he had the ability to make you absolutely dumb, just like he did last night. He fucked you until you couldn’t take it anymore, until you were a babbling, compliant mess beneath him. So, maybe you can return the favor today.

Reaching up, Dieter takes a hold of his joint between two thick fingers, watching you from above. His lips connect briefly, sucking in before blowing out a small cloud of smoke. He does it while settling further back against the couch, spreading his legs a little wider for you. Slowly, your hands trailing up his calves, his thighs, fingertips squeezing the meat of them gently. When your tongue pokes out, wetting your lower lip, Dieter’s head rolls to the side, a sluggish smile crawling across his face.

“Yeah…” Comes his heavy sigh, jaw dropping just slightly while he watches you move.

By now, he’s fully hardened beneath your touch. The thought of sex alone was enough to get him riled up. While slipping your fingers over the edge of his boxers, tugging them down ever so slightly, he leans over to put out the bud in the nearest ashtray to his side. While reaching for another joint, one he’d rolled quite loosely, he lifts his hips for you, allowing you to slide his boxers all the way down to his feet. And as you follow them down, you give him kisses, placing your lips on the softness of his thighs, that delicate little elephant tattoo, trailing down to his calves, and sighing while you do.

“Oh, baby…” It comes out as a quiet whine, looking up to watch his chest rise as he inhales deeply.

Seeing Dieter naked, or in this case nearly naked, was always so satisfying to you. It was like a breath of fresh air, seeing the man that you love like this, completely bare for you. And honestly, Dieter had reason to be cocky. He was uncut, and while that may not be to everyone’s taste, it genuinely made you drool. The length of him was average, but his girth certainly was not. And you loved how thick he was, every inch of him filling you entirely and dragging pleasurably against your walls.

“I love when you do this, baby.” He mutters, releasing a short grunt when you grip him gently.

“Yeah?” Glancing up to meet his eyes, you lay out your tongue on the underside of him.

Those sweet, brown eyes go soft upon seeing your beautiful face, your pretty mouth starting to go down on him. You slide your tongue up his shaft, watching him sigh while you look into his eyes. It’s done loosely, dragging his foreskin upward as you do it. But then you pull it back, looking down at his reddened head to flick your tongue across his slit.

“Fuck me,” He moans, joint hanging on his bottom lip.

The curve of Dieter’s belly rises and falls, his hazy mind already swimming with bliss. He watches you lean up onto your knees, angling your head downward and allowing a trail of spit to fall onto his tip. With a smile on your face you pull his foreskin back, watching your saliva roll down his shaft. It’s not long after that that you take him into your mouth, wrapping your lips around his crimson head.

“Oh,” He chokes, feeling your tongue slide over his delicate skin.

Whenever you went down on Dieter, you made sure to go slow. To say the least, the man could cum quick. And you weren’t sure if he’d be up for round two tonight, so you make sure to take your time.

Amidst his hazy state, Dieter’s head lolls to the side, eyes falling on the mirror not too far from him. The hotel you’re staying in is decorated lavishly, almost gaudy in appearance. And the six-foot mirror facing him is no different. While gazing into it, he smirks, watching as you go down on him. Jesus Christ, he loves this. He can see your pretty frame resting on your knees for him, nestled between his spread legs. And while watching your reflection, he pets at your hair, brushing some of it aside. You really were willing to do anything for him; and he doesn’t even need to work for it.

Closing your eyes as you begin to work, you keep your fingers circled around his base, sliding him further and further into your mouth. Before allowing him into your throat you move up, tonguing his tip before swallowing him again. And while he’d sat up entirely straight at first, he now allows himself to relax, resting back against the couch and letting his head fall back. His dominant hand allows him to smoke, the other one landing on the top of your head. And although he’s too tired to put any real effort into this moment, when you reach his base, he still holds your head down so you can choke on him.

This is when you gag, your movements graceful until now. Drool begins to drip from your mouth, wetting the longer hairs scattering his pelvis. He never kept himself trimmed, and for some reason, you kind of like it.

“That’s it, kitten.” He grumbles, lifting his head to look down at you. “Such a messy girl for me.”

Dieter’s mouth drops open just a little bit, the joint hanging on his lips when you gag again. But you stay down for him, you always do. And when he finally allows you to move you shoot backward, gasping for air. All he does is smile, taking in another puff of smoke. He inhales sharply, almost a hiss, before blowing the small cloud out of the side of his mouth.

“You’re always so good at it.” Then he gives you a single nod. “Do it again, will you, kitten?”

More than eager to comply, you go down again, taking him in one swallow and feeling the couch rock as his head thumps back against the top of it. He groans heavily, leaving the joint on his lips and bringing his other hand down to your head. Those talented fingers intertwine with your hair, scratching your scalp gently. And when you moan around him he pulses against your tongue, his hips shuttering ever so slightly.

In the back of your mind, you’re thinking about what you can do for him, what will feel best, what he’ll enjoy most. Oftentimes, you thought about his other relationships, the ones before you. You considered what they brought to him, sexually and otherwise. It was like a challenge to you, and so far, you could do everything they did and more. And according to Dieter, you did it better than them, too. But there’s one thing you haven’t done that is currently popping into your mind…

From the angle you’re at, you can see him perfectly, his entire body. One thing Dieter certainly did not have was shame. Since the first night you slept together, he was all in. He spread his legs wide when you first went down on him, and this time is no different. Only now, you can see his sex entirely, his full length laying on his belly when you released him, his scrotum resting beneath the thickness of him… and that forbidden little space you’ve yet to befriend. Maybe he’d enjoy that.

“Uh-huh,” He nods, the sound coming from his open mouth. He’s watching you move up and down, slowly twisting your hand beneath your mouth.

Your tongue wiggles on the underside of him as you continue to bob up and down, moaning when you can and breathing through your nose. But the size of him sometimes made even that difficult. Dieter likes to see you struggle to take him though, his chest sighing out heavy breaths while you drool around him, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes.

“No, no,” He protests, urging you back down.

“Sh…” You’ve lifted yourself from him, giving another ounce of spit before wrapping your entire fist around him.

With excitement tingling in your belly, you lower yourself just a bit. You wonder how this will go. Will he like it? Will you? He’s talked about past partners doing it before, but never once did it cross over to you. And on the opposite end of this, Dieter’s done it to you, and you want to make him feel just as good.

So you don’t give him too big of a surprise, you start out gentle, slowly making your way down. Your lips fall to his balls, licking and mouthing at them while he moans. And while you’re doing this, you jerk him off with firm, languid tugs. Inch by little inch, you creep down, your tongue sliding lower and lower while you continue to lick him. And above you, Dieter barely notices. All he’s registering is the euphoria flowing effortlessly through his brain.

“Hm…” The hum you exude shivers directly through his center, the muscles in his thighs tensing from it. You notice this, lifting your free hand to massage the sweet meat of his upper legs, feeling him relax even further under your touch.

Landing on the relatively smooth space between his scrotum and cheeks, you give him time to adjust, that is, if he’s even noticing. Moving your hand up to his tip, you give it a gentle squeeze, earning an unruly, erotic cry from him. He loves to be teased. And it’s in this exact moment that you make your first swipe, your tongue sliding along the tighter muscles you’ve yet to explore.

“Uh-ugh,” Comes his punched out gasp, eyes shooting open to look down at you.

At first, his reaction makes you nervous, an intense heat washing your entire body with anxiety. But you don’t stop, you just keep yourself there, meeting his gaze. He’s panting now, but he doesn’t say anything. So, experimentally, you do it again.

“Oh my god.” He babbles loosely from his mouth, fingers taking hold of the blunt he’d been smoking. He lets his forearm land on the armrest of the couch, letting the bud simmer between his fore and middle fingers.

Again, another swipe, deeper this time. Your hand is still working him, and this is when you get a definitive answer on whether or not he’s enjoying this surprise. His head falls back again, a guttural groan released from his throat. Almost of their own volition, his legs spread even wider, hips lifting up a little higher.

Wow, he really does want this.

“Y-Yeah…” Dieter stutters out a sigh, mouth falling agape while his head continues to lay back.

“Mm,” Comes your enticed moan, excited now that you’ve been given full permission to do this.

When Dieter moved his legs wider for you, it allowed you to see more of him, too. His cheeks separated that much more, allowing you to wiggle in even closer to the space between his legs. This time, you go in slowly, sliding your tongue up the entirety of his hole. You can feel his tight muscles twitch beneath you, your free hand now dropping to his right cheek. Grabbing him, you open him even wider, feeling his cock throb in your hand.

“W-What,” Dieter lifts his head, confused when you pull away. “What’re you doing?”

Reaching behind your back, you find the coffee table, pulling it closer to the couch. And then you look up at him, sliding both hands over his thighs.

“Put your feet on the coffee table, baby.” All he can do is stare dumbly at you. “Let me lick you.”

“Fuck me…”

As if he’s too high to even move, you help him, leaning down to lift one foot onto the small table while he moves the other. Now, he’s got his thighs on either side of your head, both of his hands falling to the couch cushions as he searches for something to grab. He doesn’t let go of his joint, though, in fact, when you return to your work, he takes another breath.

Looking back into the large mirror behind you, he grins breathlessly, watching you perform this new act for him. It’s so fucking sexy, watching you do this to him. The sight of it makes his muscles clench, your groan shivering through his hips.

“Baby… yeah…” He moans deeply from above, pinching his eyes shut when you begin to lick him deep. “Just like that, oh yeah… that’s so good…”

He’s twitching in your hand and pulsing against your tongue, the sensations almost too much for him to handle. And still he sits back, watching you do everything for him. The hand you’re not using to jerk him off wraps around his thigh, keeping him close, and he moans when you drag your nails across his sensitive skin. Every now and then your nose nudges his balls and it makes his head fucking spin. He can’t believe you’re doing this, he can’t believe you’re doing this for him.

“B-Baby,” You continue to lick him, even through his passionate whines. His stomach and legs flex around you, his toes curling, his teeth digging into his lower lip. “That, that feels so good, you don’t even know…”

Dieter’s praise made you the happiest woman in the world. He was so much more experienced than you, so to know that even through the multitude of men and women he’s slept with, that he wants you… it was a feeling you couldn't even fathom until he gave it to you.

His hips push up, shoving his fluttering hole closer to you, wanting you to have the best access to him, all of him. And this is so beyond sexy to you, to hear him fall into a whiny, moaning mess from you licking his little hole while jerking him off. You never expected it to be so thrilling for you, too, the entirety of your being fizzling with excitement and adrenaline.

While you’re tonguing his hole, prodding gently into the taut little ring, he looks up. He’s breathless when he speaks, his chest fucking heaving. “You look so good like this…” His voice is hoarse, and he clears it, swallowing briefly. “So pretty like this, kitten.”

Your open-mouthed moan makes him whine, his tongue sliding over his bottom lip when he feels your own circle his asshole. And you grin at this, giving a small giggle from beneath him.

“Still feeling too lazy for this, Dee?” You’re mumbling over his slicked-up skin, eyes flickering up to meet his.

“Don’t you dare fucking stop.” He immediately grits out, shaking his head. “Keep going, please keep going.”

Closing your eyes once again, you let yourself dive in, moving your tongue incessantly against him. It’s grown sloppy, your motions erratic and almost frenzied. And he’s enjoying every fucking minute of it. When you let go of him, intending to bring your hand down to fondle his balls, he reaches out for you.

“No,” He begs, bringing your hand back up to him. “Keep your hand there.”

But then he doesn’t leave. He wraps his own hand around yours, the both of you jerking him off while he now thrusts up into your hold. It makes you gasp, seeing him this turned on by what you’re doing to him. Helplessly, he ruts up into your hand, keeping his grip on yours tight so the pressure feels just right for him.

“Yes, yes!” He nearly wails, and before you can say anything, before you can pull away and make him wait, he cums.

It shoots all over his belly, some spouting all the way up to his chest. It comes out in gooey spurts, hot and sticky as it litters his skin. You moan while watching him, his head falling back while his eyebrows furrow, eyes pinching shut while his mouth tries desperately to hold onto the joint he’d been smoking. But he wants to open his mouth fully, wants to moan out wantonly. And while you’re enjoying the show of Dieter making a mess of himself, you continue tonguing him, rolling the wet muscle along the rim of his hole over and over again. It’s shocking, how much he cums, the amount of it sliding down his sides just a bit. That’s a shame, you wanted it in your mouth.

“Oh my god,” He huffs out, chest heaving with desperate attempts to try and catch his breath. “Holy fuck.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Dieter nods breathlessly, shaking his head quickly in response. He closes his eyes, repeating himself before his dry lips meet with a swallow. And you can see him start to relax. He reaches to the side, grabbing the blunt he’d left in the tray as he returns to lay on his back along the couch.

“Dieter,” Your whine makes his eyes snap open, head turning to the side. “I want more.” Your chest is heaving, you can’t help but beg. You do want more, you want more of those whines, more of those grunts, more his beautifully erotic expressions.

“Ride me,” He blurts out. “Fuck, ride me.”

Immediately, you rise to your feet, shimmying out of the shorts you’d pulled on when you came home. You slide your panties off alongside them, now climbing on top of him. There’s a dirty shirt laying on the ground that you quickly grab, using it to wipe off his tummy.

“You miss me? Huh?”

You toss the shirt to the floor, placing your hands on his chest to lean forward.

“Yes baby, I don’t ever get enough of you. You’re always gone, Dee, I miss you.”

“Then show me,” He swallows again, steadying his breaths. “Show me how much you miss me, kitten. Maybe it’ll make me stay home for you.”

He’s still hard beneath you, feeling the delicate skin of your lips rest on top of his shaft. Again, he keeps the joint between his lips, both hands reaching to squeeze your hips. And when he does, you lift yourself, keeping your eyes on his beautiful face while you position him. Dieter’s eyes are trained elsewhere, though, he’s gawking at the space where the two of you will connect.

“Dee…” It’s an exasperated sigh, huffed out as you sink down. He stretches you wide, painfully so, your walls throbbing around him from the intrusion only when he’s halfway inside.

He feels it, of course he does. “Fuuuck…” he groans, mouth hanging open.

The small wiggle you give your hips when you’re entirely seated on him makes him grin. He releases a short and quiet giggle, one hand rising to trail up your torso.

“Take off your shirt.” He gently orders, eyes fixated on your covered chest. “Let me see your tits.”

You do as he says while forming a smile on your face. “Who’s needy now?”

Dieter laughs, a cocky half-smirk on his face. “You know you love me.”

As soon as it's off, those two large hands move to paw at your chest, cupping you gently before digging his fingers in. He holds them while you start to move, swaying your hips.

“Oh, kitten,” He sighs, releasing your breasts. His dominant hand returns to his lips, taking a puff before removing the blunt. The other falls to his stomach, lazily brushing the pads of his fingertips across one of his nipples. “You really needed it today, huh?”

“Mhm,” Nodding, you whine, too, closing your eyes as you move. “I need you, I need you, baby.”

“I’m here, kitten.” He coos to you, inhaling another deep breath of smoke. “I’m here.”

Looking down, you’re met with the beautiful sight of the incredibly chaotic man you’ve chosen to love. He looks so scruffy right now, his hair a big mess and his cheeks littered with short, unruly strands. He looks so good below you, his curvy body moving slightly every time you rut yourself against him.

You’re going slow, enjoying every moment of it, enjoying the stretch and your gentle sighs. When your head dips back, your lips parting to release a moan, Dieter reaches up to lazily grab your left breast, jiggling it in his hand as he grins.

“Perfect,” He mumbles over the blunt he’s holding between his lips, still teasing his nipples.

He rocks back and forth with every one of your gentle thrusts, and he’s so tired that all he can do is smile; he can’t even thrust. Besides, he likes seeing you take the reins like this. He’s surprised by how much you’re willing to do for him.

“Oh, fuck.” Out of seemingly nowhere, you change your pace, slapping your ass down onto his groin. He grunts out, eyebrows furrowing as you bring him a much quicker dose of bliss.

“Dieter…” You moan, fingernails digging into his chest.

You’re taking what you want from him, the languid pace you once created floating away like dust in the wind. You’ve wanted to fuck this lazy bastard all day, and you’re going to do it your way. And Dieter couldn’t love it any more than he currently does, he feels like a fucking god right now. Just sitting back, watching this beautiful woman grind on top of him while he gets high.

He’s giving you little grunts and moans, his mouth hanging open as he breathes heavily. And he just stares at you, eyes flickering back and forth from your face to your tits to your gorgeous cunt as it takes him. His eyebrows furrow in disbelief, finding himself feeling lucky. You treat him so well. You always come home with a smile on your face, never forgetting to give him a kiss and a hug. Every day, you ask about the set, how filming is going, inquiring about how he feels about the script. If you’re not taking care of ordering the food, you’re preparing it, if you’re not making arrangements for your suite to be cleaned, you’re doing it. And by far the most impressive thing you do, is you manage to love him; even through all his shit, through his attitude and addictions. He should really learn to appreciate you more.

“Baby,” You whimper for him, knowing how much he likes it. Biting down on your lower lip, you wiggle down onto him, feeling him pulse inside.

“Fuck, you look so good like this.” He says with a breath of amazement. “I love when you’re on top of me.”

“Yeah? Even when you’re too tired to have me?”

“I might be tired, but I’m glad you aren’t.” He grins, that lazy, cocky smirk never ceasing to stir arousal within you.

“Hm…” It’s a hum, an enticed one. “You like it, daddy? You like when I do this to you?”

“Oh kitten, you know I do. You’re so perfect, doing this for me…”

Releasing a contented sigh, your head tilts back, and he wishes he could kiss your throat. But there’s no way in hell he can lean up that far right now. Not when he’s high and getting fucked out of his mind.

Dieter’s eyes fall to the area behind you, zoning in on the reflection of your ass bouncing down against him. You’re such a sexy little thing, your entire body moving over his, always doing your best to please him. Your skin looks so smooth, is so smooth, the dips and curves of your physique was something that caught his eye immediately. Honestly, he can’t help but look at himself, too. Every time you lift yourself, he can see his cock slide almost all the way out of you before you’re plummeting down onto him again, his scrotum bouncing slightly from your forceful movements. The thick meat of his thighs jiggle beneath your own, your hips relentless in their search for his high.

Eyes rolling back, they finally close, a low and guttural moan coming from his throat. “You’re gonna make me cum.”

“Again?” You couldn’t be happier to hear him say this. You love it when he cums more than once.

“Again.” Dieter answers you, breath continuing to leave him. His eyes are still closed, his head nodding sluggishly. “Make me cum, please kitten. Please make me cum.”

“Mm… where are you gonna cum, baby? Inside me?”

“No,” You knew he’d answer this way. “Gonna pull out.”

There was a very specific way Dieter went about cumming when you rode him. It’s not that he didn’t love cumming inside you, he definitely did. Oftentimes, he’d lick it out of you. But when you rode him, he liked to pull out and jerk himself off against your ass. It oozes out of him, spilling over his hand. And right after he’d bring it to his lips so he could taste it.

“Oh,” He whines, his neck straining and veins protruding. “Fu-uck.”

Smiling down at him, you reach around, your dominant hand finding his scrotum. You cup him gently, fingers fondling the delicate skin as he nears his high. This is when he ruts up into you, the only time he’d done so tonight. His hips move of their own volition, punching up inside your core before his hands fly to wrap around your back, hauling you down to his chest. You squeal quietly as he does it, hands wrapping around his neck. You duck your face down to his shoulder, fingernails and teeth scraping along his throat. And while you’re busy doing this, he reaches down, pushing you further up on his chest so he can pull out of you. Forcefully, his fingers wrap around his shaft, tugging his cock harshly beneath your ass. Every time his fist moves up his knuckles graze the plumpness of your backside, helping to height his orgasm.

The sticky-whiteness of it washes your skin, wet globs littering your ass and dripping down onto his hand. Since this is the second time he’s cum, there isn’t as much as the first time, but it doesn’t matter, not to either of you. He groans harshly when he feels your pretty lips kissing his tawny skin, your wondrous tongue poking out to lay over his neck. By the way you’re nipping at him, he knows hair and makeup will have to cover the hickeys up in the morning. And you like knowing that.

“Fuck, fuck,” His hand moves frantically, milking himself of every drop he can give.

Graceful fingertips pet over the hair scattering those squeezable cheeks, your nose running along the curve of his jaw. His eyes are pinched shut, lips parted as he revels in this. You lift your face just enough to give his cheek a kiss, smiling and humming against him. With his breaths picking up he removes his hand, lifting it to his face. He looks at the whiteness of himself coating every single knuckle, groaning quietly. Dieter then brings his knuckles closer, his tongue poking out to lick it off of his skin.

“You love doing that, huh baby?” You grin against him, lightly scratching his scruff.

He doesn’t answer you, he just brings his fingers to your lips. Looking to the side, he watches you take them in, tasting not only the remnants of his orgasm but his spit, too. Slack-jawed and staring, he can’t take his eyes off you. When he takes his fingers out of your mouth you reach up to keep him close, sliding your tongue through the mess of him.

“I love you,” Comes his airy yet guttural admission. “I fucking love you so much.”

“I love you too, baby.” You’re happy to hear him say it after missing him all day.

“I’m sorry,” He’s still breathing heavily, trying to calm his breaths. “I don't,” Then he swallows, his clean hand rising to hold the back of your head when you snuggle against him. “I don’t treat you like I should.”

“What do you mean?” You furrow your brows. “You take care of me.”

“More like you take care of me.”

“Okay, I’ll give you that.” You admit with a laugh. “But I know you love me, Dee.”

“I really hope you do.” Dieter sighs below you, his body firm, steady. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you. You’re my person, baby.”

Lifting your head, you stare down at him. “Baby, why are you so worried?”

“I just don’t want to lose you,” Dieter clears his throat, those warm brown eyes looking up sweetly at you. “And I know I will if I act like an ass.”

“Well, don’t be an ass.” Shrugging, you playfully grin. “And you won’t lose me.”

But Dieter doesn’t smile, he isn’t joking.

“I know you get tired baby, and you do deserve to relax. You work hard.” Well, as hard as he can on the set of Cliff Beasts Seven. Honestly, the better description would be he has hard days, long days. Dieter wasn’t necessarily putting his best foot forward to uphold his career. But he didn’t really have to. He did what he wanted, and honestly, people loved him for it.

“You don’t get sick of me?” He’s feeling insecure about this. He knows he can be a lot.

“Sure I do, sometimes I get really aggravated with you.” Honesty was always important between the two of you. “But I don’t ever stop loving you baby, and that’s what matters most to me.”

For a moment, Dieter just looks at you. “I’m gonna marry you one day.”

“Yeah? Is that a promise?”

“A big fucking promise.” He nods, pulling you down to kiss you. And you smile into it, happy to be in the relationship that you’re in. You know you have something so many people want, not only a celebrity but a man who’s willing to love you through anything. And Dieter’s more than aware of how lucky he is to have you. Sexy, funny, incredible you.

When you climb off of him, retrieving your shirt and shorts, you get a rag so he can clean up. You bring him a clean pair of boxers and a hoodie of his that you’d found in your shared room, his brown fuzzy jacket now ruined. But he can get it dry cleaned no problem.

“What do you feel like ordering tonight?” You ask, phone in hand.

“Pizza?”

“We had pizza last night.”

“Yeah,” He widens his eyes, rolling them. “Because it’s good.”

Shaking your head with a cheesy grin on your face, you order your boyfriend what he wants. These were your usual nights, ordering in, cuddling, and turning on a movie. Oftentimes, they were documentaries. Dieter didn’t like movies that much, he sees enough actors on the daily. He knows most of them, too. They’re colleagues to him, not interesting celebrities he looks up to. Tonight, he picks out a documentary about the Amazon, grinning like a little kid when the koalas come on.

“You want one.”

“Sure,” You let him light the blunt for you, leaning on him while tugging a blanket over the two of you.

“You wanna do LSD?” He then asks, glancing down at you. “I got some new ones.”

“You know, for one night I’d like to not trip balls.”

“Yeah okay, fine.” He rolls his eyes dramatically, and it makes you grin. Dieter slouches beside you, leaning on your body and wrapping both arms around you.

“What time do you need to be on set tomorrow?”

He groans, running a hand over his face. “Eight fucking am.”

“Damn,” He responds with a disgruntled I know.

Lucky for the two of you, tomorrow is a Friday, and thank fuck he has the weekend off. Maybe he’ll take you out to dinner, maybe even go to a club or two. Those nights are always fun with him. Honestly though, every night spent with Dieter was a fucking blast. If you stayed in, you’d both blare music till the sun comes up, drinking the night away while you sing happily. Those are the nights you’d usually do LSD. Those are also the nights he tells you about his craziest sex fantasies. But if you went out you got the chance to be spotted by the paparazzi, something you honestly both love. What can you say? You’re attention whores.

“Well, you wanna shower together before bed? I can make you all soapy…” You run a hand down his belly, now full of pizza and pop. “Get you nice and tired so you can sleep like a baby.”

“I’m already exhausted, but you know I like a challenge.”

In his own head, he’s already planning out the weekend he’s going to give you. He’s considering booking a short vacation, take some time off and get a breather from set. Maybe he’ll bring you to Venice for a few days, make you cum in as many Italian cities as he can. He knows you’d like that.

#Dieter Bravo #Baby #My soft teddy bear #I love you so much #Ugh #Dieter Bravo x you #Dieter Bravo x reader #Dieter Bravo x female reader #Dieter Bravo smut #Dieter Bravo fanfiction #Pedro Pascal #The Bubble #Kinktober #Kinktober 2022 #Sintober #Sintober 2022

387 notes · View notes

jewishgir · 1 year

Text

going over that really notorious Klance fanfic Dirty Laundry on the podcast and I'm fucking tired of sitting on these thoughts for so long so here's a rundown because I am trying to sleep but can't because I'm thinking about this shit fic:

accusations of ableist and racist stereotypes aside (meaning EVEN IF we assume these accusations are false) this fic has some of the worst (sincere) writing I've ever seen. not hyperbole. not exaggeration.

any time someone brings up this fic they talk about how the author was cruelly harassed into deleting it, but upon digging the "meanest" thing I could find was a message from a Latine person addressed to the author which, albeit heated, did not insult the author in any way beyond saying "you fucking white people" and simply pointed out their problems with the fic requesting they delete it for being racist.

the only time anyone speaks Spanish is when they are angry or emotional, and half the time it's grammatically incorrect google translate Spanish

it's just The Secret Life of Bees but with Klance

the word "obviously" is used in every other paragraph

basic timeline and setting mistakes ie Keith and Lance have known each other since high school; Lance went to Grossling High in Arizona yet Keith has never been to Arizona and also met Lance at college in Oregon

the author clearly has no idea how old the characters are supposed to be. the 70 year old woman is described as "old and withered," and the 2 year old can't walk and needs to be spoonfed.

at several instances the Mexican characters are referred to as "Spanish"

setting changes from chapter to chapter. they're in the middle of the Arizona desert yet they apparently live on farmland that has "rolling yellow fields" and livestock breeding and large, dense deciduous forests along the highway - forests that also have lakes in the middle of them - lakes that have currents like rivers, and are also cold enough to give you hypothermia in t-shirt weather

other basic writing mistakes, like Keith noticing Lance's kidney scar the first time he sees him shirtless, yet failing to notice any scar on his donee despite him being introduced with no shirt on

the author mixes up Lance and Keith's names frequently

often the characters will act completely differently than they are described. Abuela had a pretty characterful introduction sequence and then we're given a description of her that contradicts what we've just read

we are constantly told what a good mother Rosa is despite her not standing up to her homophobic husband when he slights their bisexual son for being bisexual, doesn't stand to defend Keith from Abuela's homophobia until Keith runs out and steald a car, gets angry when her long-lost daughter returns home, and acts cold towards her six-year-old granddaughter, both of whom she did not know were alive or dead up until that point... I could go on

Keith apparently was born in Korea but somehow ended up in the US foster care system as a baby. there are certainly scenarios that could lead to this happening, but we're never given an explanation. idk maybe the author didn't realize Korea also has foster care systems.

characters are introduced and given backstories then promptly discarded when they are done serving the Klance relationship; ie Benji's cancer survivor backstory doesn't actually matter and is only there to give Keith an excuse to touch Lance's skin. after this, he barely shows up.

Sophia. like the entire fucking thing with Sophia. I am actually too angry to properly articulate my thoughts on this but basically she's treated as a pariah for getting pregnant at 17 and getting kicked out of the house by her father; we are meant to think this is justified. the only one who sympathizes with her is Abuela, who is a homophobe who we're supposed to disagree with.

the autistic character is referenced as autistic briefly only in order to add to the struggles Sophia faced as a young mother. otherwise, Alexi does not matter at all to the story. after her introductary scenes, she disappears from the story altogether.

the writing just sucks in general. we are told stuff instead of being able to draw conclusions on our own, even the most obvious things, the similes and metaphors are terrible

speaking of which, the perspective is never consistent. it various omniscient to third person limited from Keith's perspective to Lance's, yet while we think we are in one perspective we get things that only the other's perspective could know definitively, but if it's supposed to be omniscient, we get opinions that HAVE to be from one character's perspective... it's a constant problem

so so so so so so much more wow this fic is bad

#shiv.txt #voltron #dirty laundry

47 notes · View notes

dollystuartwrites · 1 year

Text

7&ME - Chapter 7 - Bandages

Pairing: OT7 x F!Reader

Genre: fluff, smut, idol AU, straight, bisexual, gay, threesome

Wordcount: 1189

Chapters: [1] - [2] - [3] - [4] - [5] - [6] - [7] - [8] - [9] - [10] [11] - [12] - [13] - [14] - [15] - [16] - [17] - [18] - [19] - [20] [21] - [22] - [23] - [24] - [25] - [26] - [27] - [28] - [29] - [30] MASTERLIST Wanna read all the chapters right now? You can find the complete story for free on WATTPAD

Summary: Miracles do happen! Somehow you've finally managed to secure a job at a big company! Even though it'll be a 24/7 job, they promised you a fat paycheck, so you don't care what the job is... But what if the job is managing 7 grown men? Seven men who all have needs...

Warnings: swearing, unprotected sex, vaginal penetration, fingering, size kink, oral (f&m receiving), dirty talk, gay sex, threesome sex, bisexual sex, implied masturbation, this is super vanilla compared to most of my stories, let me know what I missed.

Y O U R P E R S P E C T I V E

'Let me see. Where is it?' Jimin talked to himself as he opened one of his dressers.

I was sitting on the bed.

There were a lot of pillows and plushies in his room. I could see three beanbags on the floor in front of the tv. On one side of the room, the wall was completely blocked from view by a huge closet, that reached from top to bottom and side to side.

Here and there, clothes lay piled up on the floor, and his makeup table was scattered with makeup and accessories.

'Ah there it is,' Jimin said finally.

He returned with a small box and sat down on the floor in front of me at my feet.

'Can you give me your hand,' he said sweetly.

I obeyed and put out my hand for him.

He took it into his own and I couldn't help but notice how soft his hands were.

Carefully he applied the medicine to the cuts and burns.

Every time he dabbed the q-tip on the wounds he would look up at me, checking my face to see if I wasn't in pain.

He blew softly on it a few times.

He has such pretty lips...

Wait, what am I thinking?

Snap out of it!

Jimin looked up at me again for a second.

His face was so soft, so caring...

Carefully he placed a band-aid over it.

He put up his eyes at me and brought my hand to his lips, kissing it softly.

I could feel my heart beating in my chest.

'There, all better,' he smiled sweetly.

He let go of my hand unexpectedly and got up.

'Let's finish dinner now, shall we?' He asked, the atmosphere changing abruptly.

'Right,' I said breathlessly.

I got to my feet.

The door suddenly opened with a bang.

Seokjin was standing in the doorway, his jaw clenched. Behind him were Namjoon and Yoongi, both frowning slightly.

'Oppa?' I blurted surprised.

The three men in the doorway paused, looking from me, to Jimin, and back again.

'Ah Hyung, we were just on our way back,' Jimin said, standing a few feet away from me. 'Is something wrong?'

Seokjin swallowed and I could clearly see Yoongi and Namjoon exchanging looks, trying to hold in their laughter.

What on earth was going on?

'Nothing,' Seokjin said coldly. 'Just, the food is getting cold,' he turned around and walked away with long strides.

'After you,' Jimin said, grinning at me. -XXX-

I sat down on my bed and stared at my bandaged hand.

Images of Jimin's face ran through my mind.

I closed my eyes.

I could see how he kissed my hand, over and over.

A tingling sensation ran through my lower parts.

In a moment of madness, I felt the urge to kiss him. I had wanted to wrap my arms around his neck and feel his warmth on me. Putting my fingers through his fluffy hair.

I opened my eyes.

My mouth felt dry.

It had been a long time since I had felt this horny.

Fantasizing about relationships with your boss? How cliche.

I got up from the bed and took a deep breath.

Better go and take a cold shower.

----------

H O S E O K P E R S P E C T I V E

'So what really happened?' I asked Jimin casually.

Seokjin and Namjoon had just interrogated Jimin about what he had done with y/n when they had been alone in the room together. Jimin had sworn that nothing had happened, but no one had really believed him. Neither did I. Eventually though, when they all realized they wouldn't get anything out of him, they had all taken off to their rooms. I had stayed behind, with Jimin is his room. Making an excuse that I wanted to read one of his books.

Jimin sighed annoyed and put his comic down.

'You want me to play it out for you?' Jimin said, rolling his eyes.

Without waiting for my answer, he grabbed my shoulders and pushed me down to sit on the edge of the bed.

'She sat here,' he said, indicating that where I was sitting y/n had been sitting.

'I sat here,' he said, sitting down on the floor at my feet.

'I held her hand like this,' Jimin said, grabbing mine, 'and applied the medicine to it,'

With his finger, he softly stroked the palm of my hand while looking at me.

His annoyed frown disappeared as he stoked my hand and a glint in his eye appeared.

'And then, before Jin, Joon and Yoongi barged into my room, I did this,' Jimin said.

Very slowly, without breaking eye contact he brought my hand to his lips.

I could feel my heart beating.

I could easily imagine what y/n must've felt.

No one, not a single one of us could resist Jimin's charms. Although some of us had more of a soft spot for him than others.

And I was one of those.

As his perfect pink lips pressed on my hand I could feel myself getting hot.

A fantasy of y/n and Jimin making out with each other crossed my mind.

Fuck

I looked into Jimin's eyes.

I was totally hooked on this boy.

'I want you,' I said, my throat dry.

Jimin instantly jumped into my lap, his legs and arms hooked around me.

I closed my eyes as his mouth pressed onto mine, placing my hands on his hips.

I could instantly feel myself growing, the harsh fabric of my jeans straining me. My bulge pushed into him.

Jimin's mouth strayed away from mine, into my neck where he licked and bit me, which made me even harder.

I moaned loudly, not being able to hold myself in. It didn't matter anyway since the house was very well insulated. It had been a requirement before we bought it.

Jimin crawled off my lap and in between my legs.

Slowly, too damn slowly, he unzipped me. Grinning, he kissed the bulge of my boxers that hid my erection.

I moaned again.

Skillfully, he took the band of my boxers between his teeth and pulled them down.

My hard dick instantly sprang out and I sighed with relief.

Like a kitten, he licked my tip, before taking it into his mouth.

It felt so good. So great.

Normally I loved watching Jimin give me head, as he always made it a show. But this time, I let my head fall back and closed my eyes. I imagined y/n giving me head. I imagined her giving head to Jimin. I imagined her riding me, slowly, so wet...

I let out another deep moan.

I wouldn't last long this time...

10 notes · View notes

adollablemoved · 2 years

Text

bringing this carrd back ( along with this post & this one as well ) since i started seeing people using the p*nsexual label again. i beg of you to listen to bisexual people and understand why p*nsexuality and any other variant are harmful labels. all i’m asking you is to take a bit of your time to read helpful and informative posts and to reconsider changing your muses label to bisexual, because that alone helps the community more than you know.

#indie rp #rph #rpc #rpt #a reminder that if you come into my askbox to defend p*nsexuality or anything alike will result in a block #i’m advocating for bisexuality and i have no intentions of changing my mindset #bisexuals have been done dirty for way to long. it’s time to change that #02.

37 notes · View notes

simplyotometrash · 3 years

Text

Some Obey Me Headcanons!

Part One!!

Lucifer

Lucifer has always been the dad sibling. After each of his brothers were “born” while they were angels, he was the one to raise and teach them everything.

It’s common knowledge that Mammon is his favorite. Even if he hates to admit it. He’s hardest on Mammon because it’s the only thing he knows how to do anymore.

Despite the fact that they don’t seem to get along because of Mammon’s antics, Lucifer only ever confides some of his most pent up feelings to the second born.

The only other person he confides in this deeply is MC.

Before the fall, Belphie was his second favorite brother. Even after things have settled after Belphie was free again, he can never look at the youngest the same.

All he wants is for his brothers to be happy and live on. Even if it means working himself into the ground for their sakes.

He doesn’t ask for help. Help has to be forced upon him.

With how much he works, even at home, it’s not uncommon to find him napping with a pen in hand at his desk and his head on his paperwork.

He wishes he had done better raising Satan. He blames himself for their strained relationship, but he feels as if it is too late to truly fix it.

Sometimes he also wishes he had raised Satan as his son and not his brother, considering Satan was born from his wrath.

Children, for some reason or another, flock to him.

His control issues and needing to know everything that happens under his roof stems from the trauma of the war, the fall, and what happened with Lilith.

It’s his deepest fear that he will lose his brothers and be completely and utterly alone.

A bisexual mess of a demon. No one can convince me he doesn’t have at least a small crush on Diavolo.

Mammon

Oh the second born brother. He just wants to see everybody happy. But he always messes up and ends up making people angry instead.

He has severe impulse control issues, hence why he’s broke all the time. It isn’t that he doesn’t want to save his Grimm, I headcanon that his sin of Greed compels him to spend. It controls him and so he struggles to keep money.

But by gods does he have great luck with gambling. Get him going and he will win big every single time.

But keep that money where he can’t just grab it or else he will be compelled by his sin to buy things.

He doesn’t even want most of the things he buys. His sin took root in that empty space left from the fall and being cast out by the one he called his father.

His sin pushes him to try and fill that void with objects and money when really he just wants someone’s love.

After centuries of being called scum and a degenerate because of something he has little control over, he gave up trying and gave into just being his sin.

He cries easy but only to MC or Lucifer. He won’t show his tears to any of his other brothers. Maybe Beel sometimes. But only sometimes.

He knows Lucifer’s most precious and deepest secrets. He’s his brother’s confidant. But he doesn’t even breathe a word of these secrets to anyone else.

He tries so hard to get attention, so he does stupid shit. After falling to Devildom, his family was changed forever. So any attention is good attention even when it’s him being punished.

MC is the one who showed him positive love and attention again. It is one of many reasons he sticks to their side like fucking super glue to skin.

He’s actually a total mom-friend, though you wouldn’t guess it. You’d think he is the type to get drunk and pass out at a party? His alcohol tolerance is actually much higher than he lets on. He cleans up and takes care of people after they’ve all passed out.

Leviathan

He wasn’t nearly as anxious and against socializing before falling to Devildom. He retreated into himself out of fear of the unknown world they had all fallen into after the war.

He has an anxious attachment style. He knows it isn’t healthy. It’s rooted in the trauma that losing Lilith created.

The longer he stayed closed in on himself, the worse his anxiety got. To the point he became a recluse.

He fears getting close to someone. He feels insecure in relationships, not just in himself. He doesn’t feel like he’s good enough.

He’s had relationships in Devildom before, but the first one ended poorly and it only made things worse for how he saw himself. The demon only dated him because of who he was, and preferred his status as the Grand Admiral of Hell’s Navy. Not as who he really is.

The few relationships that came after all ended before they really could begin because his anxiety monster was screaming that he wasn’t really good enough. That they only ever pursued him for who he was in status and power.

MC’s persistence to become his friend is what made him begin to do some self-reflection.

They tried so hard to become friends with him, they put so much effort into him, and they encourage him to just be himself. If they do all of that, maybe he really is enough as he is.

He does try to step outside of his comfort zone more because MC opened his eyes to the truth of himself.

But baby steps are needed.

He taught himself how to code just so he could make games. He got bored after making one and preferred playing to creating.

He doesn’t actually hate Mammon. Their little rivalry traces back to when they were angels and still growing up, competing for Lucifer’s attention. He actually loves his brother very much, despite how irritate he gets.

His envy is its own thing. It took root within his insecurities and has a voice all its own. It used to be so loud that he couldn’t think. But the growth he’s had since MC came into his life helped quiet that voice down a lot.

He’s closest with Satan and Asmo, feeling like he doesn’t fit with his older two or youngest two brothers anymore.

Satan

He knew from day one that he wasn’t like the rest of his brothers. He was always different. Born a demon, never once an angel. He knew that they weren’t truly his brothers.

All he ever wanted was for Lucifer to be his father. Not his brother.

Lucifer once was his hero, the person he admired and respected with all his might.

As he got older, his wrath only grew with him. And his anger at Lucifer grew as well.

He wanted to find himself as separate from Lucifer. He knew where he’d come from. But everyone treated him as if he were just some offshoot of Lucifer. He wanted to be his own person. For everyone to see that. It fueled his anger and built the wall that came between them.

He’s an excellent shoulder for comfort. He often comforts Levi when he breaks down or provides reassurance to Asmo.

These three are the middle children, they stick together.

He was alive when the Library of Alexandria was burned. Even though he wasn’t supposed to go to the human realm, he saved some texts from the library and keeps them safe.

The real reason he wears his jackets the way he does is just like when you’re in bed. If it’s full on with both sleeves, he’s too hot. If he doesn’t have it on at all he’s too cold. So one arm in a sleeve and one arm not in a sleeve.

Asmo has tried and failed to give this boy fashion help. He refuses to take it. He thinks he looked like an intellectual (for the love of god please lose the black undershirt at least, Satan).

He carries cat treats and cat food in his bag at all times in case he comes across a kitty in need.

He has sneaked many cats into the House of Lamentation. Lucifer knew the entire time but let Satan have a few days before he “found out” about the cats.

His wrath has burned strong for so long, even when he was passive, that he didn’t know what it was like to feel calm. But MC’s very presence sends a wave of peace right to his very core.

Asmo

If you’re insecure and you know it clap your hands.

Levi might seem like the king of insecurity, but Asmo takes the cake.

He masks his insecurities with what people think is narcissism and over confidence. He puts on a show so nobody knows how he really sees himself.

Lust was always shoved down his throat as sexual only. So he went with it. He was supposed to be the Avatar of Lust. To be what was expected of him and to make sure he was liked, he did what he thought everyone wanted.

And it turned him into someone he never wanted to be. He didn’t know how to find himself again.

He isn’t nearly as sexual and lewd as everyone thinks. He’s touchy and clingy, yes, but touch is his love language.

When he’s hurt or doesn’t feel well, if he’s had a bad day, if he’s sad- all he wants is to be held by the person he loves and who loves him. He wants to hold hands or link arms. He wants to wrap his arms around them all the time.

But because everyone in Devildom only saw him as a sex symbol, he had to bury his truest desires. He had a persona to keep up.

While he does love to take care of himself, he used to break mirrors because he was so sick of who he had become. It took a lot of time for him to get through it.

His MC is the only one who wasn’t tainted by his power. A power that seemed to just be active all the time whether he wanted it or not.

Everyone was all over him but it wasn’t as if he could control it. His sin was always active, it attracted people.

But MC wasn’t interested or affected.

And that was what was most attractive to him.

They saw him for who he was and encouraged him to just be the true Asmo. Not the Asmo everyone wanted to see.

He is excellent at sewing. He loves making his own accessories and clothing from his own designs.

He’s ambidextrous. You think that the king of fashion only uses one hand? Darling, if he only used one hand then his homework would never get done. He write with one hands and be painting his toes with the other.

One of the few people that can get Levi out of his room to hang out. They’ve always been close. Sometimes he does that just so the others can get Levi’s laundry and dirty dishes.

He’s the most emotionally open and stable of the brothers. He’s made peace with his inner monsters and can coexist with them. He’s also surprisingly good at advice.

Can and will break into Lucifer’s study to make the eldest relax because he’s working too har.

He has bobby pins on him at all times. Not just for fashion but for lockpicking! He can be clever and beautiful!

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo

559 notes · View notes

tinymonsterlover · 3 years

Text

Perfect - Bo Sinclair x Fem!Reader

Smut, body dysmorphia, angst with sort of resolved ending, oral, fingering, orgasm denial, dirty talk, face slapping, spit, overstimulation, teasing, Bo being a smug bastard, mentions of impregnation, mentions of murder and violence, Soft!Bo, Bisexual!Bo, daddy kink

The truck screeched to a stop as you put your arms out to brace yourself on the dashboard, tears filling your eyes as you were afraid Bo was mad at you.

"What the hell do you mean you think you're ugly, Y/N?! Are you shitting me?! Who told you this- This fuckin' bullshit? I'll fucking gut em. I'll gut em like a goddamn fish!" He huffed, rage taking him over at the thought of someone filling your head with such obvious lies.

"Me, Bo! Me! I've felt this way for as long as I can remember. I don't know why the hell you're with me when there's a million other women who are ten times prettier than me and-"

You were stopped when his hand gripped your face, smushing your cheeks together as his thick finger pointed at your scrunched up face.

"Stop it. I don't wanna hear that shit. In fact, I'm boutta prove something to you and I want you to listen good and hard, do you understand me? Y/N, do you understand me, darlin'?"

A muffled 'mhm' escaped you as he finally let go of your jaw, eyes holding back wobbling, large tears.

"Now look here, I fucking love you. I fell in love with you the minute I laid eyes on you, momma, I've been in love with you and I ain't never gonna stop lovin' you. You could line up a billion other women, hell, a billion other men too, right in front of me and out of all of em, my heart would take me right to you. I think you're the most gorgeous woman I've ever laid eyes on and I don't ever wanna hear nothin' about this 'bein' ugly' bullshit."

He ranted, though he was composed and not raising his voice like he was earlier.

He turned the truck off in the middle of the road, wax faces peering at you from the window.

"I am head over heels for you, sweetheart, and there ain't nothin' in Ambrose or the whole damn world for that matter that's gonna change my mind. I mean have you actually looked at yourself, darlin'?" He asked.

You looked down in the floorboard.

It's all you had done lately and all you saw was this hideous, grotesque being that Bo didn't deserve the punishment of being with.

You wanted to curl up and die, wither away and turn to ash and let him find someone more suitable to be with, to let him forget all about you.

You truly felt like you weren't good enough for him.

He reached in front of you and flipped down the overhead visor that was equipped with a surprisingly clean mirror.

You wanted to pick apart the little details of your face and show Bo the imperfections you saw so maybe he'd understand, but his voice chased the thought away.

"You see these beautiful eyes? Huh? You take a good hard look baby. Look at those pretty little eyelashes first, okay? Look. Those gorgeous lashes that flutter away at me when you want somethin', looking like pretty lil butterfly wings."

You sniffled, silence overcoming you.

You did bat your lashes at him when you wanted something. It always worked too.

"And these gorgeous eyes, God, I could stare into em forever. Look how stunning. They're always so twinkly lookin' at me. That's how I know I gotcha wrapped right around my finger, dollface. You wanna hear a secret though? With eyes like that, I'm hooked right back. I mean it, all you gotta do is look at me and I'm done for."

You looked at him, eyes red and weepy.

"R-really?"

He cupped your face gently, wiping tears from your cheeks.

"Really. And look at this cute nose. God, I love your nose. I just wanna-" he booped it several times in repetition, "And it's so perfect for kisses. Look-" he turned your head to look at him before placing a sweet kiss to your nose, which always made you giggle.

"And your laugh, darlin? Oh, don't you try hidin' it on me now. Your laugh is so damn sexy. Why d'you think I'm always ticklin' on ya? Huh? Cause I love hearin' it. That's the sound you make when you're happy and goddammit that is music to my ears. I wanna hear your laugh every day for the rest of my life, Y/N. That's why I married you."

Your heart thudded in your chest as you fiddled with your wedding band. You remembered the night so well.

Vincent and Lester were the ones who officiated the wedding with that wax priest overseeing everything.

It probably seemed silly, but it meant something to you both, and you were proud to be Mrs. Bo Sinclair.

"Yeah, see? Look at your hands, momma, look how tiny they are in mine. They're gonna raise our babies. They help sculpt my brother's face, they help Lester when the truck won't start, they hold my hands... And they jerk me off," he chuckled, earning a shy laugh from you, you knew what he was doing and it was working.

"They jerk me off so fucking good. In fact-" he kissed each of your fingers, "That's for the handjob I got this mornin'. Fuckin' perfect."

You couldn't help but giggle at the way he was wiggling his eyebrows at you.

It was classic Bo, doing anything he could to make you laugh.

It was also classic Bo to be perverted while doing so.

"You really think my-" you started only to be shushed by Bo.

"Yes ma'am. I do. And look at this finger right here, this one's my favorite, y'know why? Hmm? It's how we make promises to each other... And this one has a very special promise... And this one flips people off, that one's my favorite too... And this one points all excited at stuff... And this one texts me "I love you" every mornin', even if I'm right in bed beside you. Mmmph. I love your hands, baby girl, I love you."

You felt the tears coming back again, though it was a little hard to cry with Bo kissing on each one of your fingers.

"And your arms? Oh darlin', your arms are just perfect for holdin' me tight. They give such good hugs, they cuddle me in all close and they're gonna rock our babies to sleep when I finally get around to knockin' you up," he crooned, kissing up your arms to your shoulder.

You squealed as his lips were dangerously close to your neck.

"Bo!" You shrieked, playfully pushing on him, but he knew what you really wanted.

He pulled the strap of your tank top down and lightly bit into the skin of your shoulder, warm tongue and lips laving over the mark.

"And there ain't nothin' I love more than these pretty lil shoulders and how they get all warmed up in the summertime. They're so damn kissable too... Mmph, I'm sorry baby, I can't help myself."

His kisses became a little more intense as they moved towards your neck.

You felt a shift in the direction this was headed in, but you didn't mind, in fact- he was actually helping.

Knowing that Bo seemed to really, genuinely think these things, to see all this good in you and all of this beauty, it gave you enough energy to at least start to combat those thoughts for a few minutes.

You felt his tongue drag up your neck, watching him lick your skin in the mirror.

The sight turned you on a little more than normal if you were honest, not because you saw yourself but because you could see the obscenity that was Bo's tongue.

"Mmm? You like that, darlin'? Huh? C'mere, baby. Look at this pretty little neck. Now this... This was made for pretty necklaces, love bites and my hand around it when I take you nice and slow," he massaged your throat before grabbing it swiftly, a slow squeeze that made you squeak and rub your thighs together, "Just like that."

When he let go, you let out a breathless, half-minded 'daddy Bo', which brought that gorgeous, crooked smile to his face without fail.

"Yeah baby, just like that. And look how pretty you looked like that, Y/N, how could I not wanna squeeze up on you like that? Fuckin gorgeous."

His lips now focused on your earlobe, teeth nipping at it.

"And these pretty lil ears were made for listening to me telling you how much I love you, and how pretty you are, how hard you work, how much we appreciate you... What a good fucking girl you are for me. You're perfect, darlin', look. And you always wear such pretty lil earrings, all dangly or sparkly. Makes em even cuter," he crooned, playing with the studs you were wearing that day.

You turned to face him, pulling him in for a kiss only to feel him climb up your body a little more from the driver's seat.

He was getting a little hard in his jeans, which you could have figured by how much he was bringing up your sex life and all, but something about the fact that he was turned on by simply complimenting you made you want to jump on him right there.

Then it really sank in.

Bo had made himself hard by thinking about you.

His cock was throbbing between his legs for you.

"Bo... Are you...?" You asked, receiving a nod from him as he lightly bit your cheek.

"And these cute lil plump cheeks... Mmmph. For kissin' on and squeezing and pinchin'... Look how pretty."

The back of his hand caressed your cheek, trailing slowly down your face to your neck again where he gave another gentle squeeze.

"And sometimes for slapping or stuffing full of my cock... God I love how full your cheeks get before they hollow out around me when you're going to town on my dick, darlin', ain't a prettier sight, I'll tell you that... Mmm-mm."

His voice was breathy now as he palmed himself through his jeans, erection utterly raging beneath them.

"Let me worship you, baby girl. Let daddy Bo make you feel as pretty as you are," he crooned, "Lemme fuck you in the truck. Right here."

He nipped at your neck before engulfing the bite mark in warm, wet kisses.

You nodded, you wanted nothing more than to sink into him, to be engulfed by him.

"Yeah? Alright then... Give daddy a kiss, sweetheart. Look at those pretty lips. You got one hell of a pretty little mouth. Yeah you do. That's for moanin' my name out and telling me you love me, letting me know when Lester's home and callin' the dog back in the house and... Oh God-" he interrupted himself by rutting against your thigh, the feeling making him grunt, "Fuck- And for swallowing my fucking load, princess. It was made just for taking my load. And have I ever told you how goddamn tempting you are in those pretty little lipsticks you got? Makes me wanna just fuck it up."

He was practically dry humping you at this point, crotch grinding against yours.

"And your tongue... Oh God your fucking tongue, baby, I just-" he growled, "Let daddy show you what that sweet lil tongue's for."

He licked into your mouth, panting and cursing into it as he grinded his cock against you, ragged breathing filling the space between you when he pulled back.

"I gotta stop 'fore I cum like this," he mumbled.

His lips met yours again and you heard the car door come open behind him.

Bo climbed out before grabbing you by your legs and pulling you across the seat with little effort.

"Bo, don't do that, I'm too-" you started only to have him clap his hand over your mouth.

"I don't want to hear another word from that perfectly fuckable little mouth of yours unless it's calling me daddy or saying something nice about yourself, you understand me?"

You nodded, giving his hand a sweet kiss before gently moving it to pop one of his thick, rough fingers in your mouth.

He let out a sigh before rubbing it over your tongue, playing with the tip of it gently and pulling it out with a pop.

"God, you know I love it when you do that."

He wasted no more time in getting your shorts off, revealing your lacy panties and earning a sly grin from your boyfriend.

"I love this pair of panties on you too. Look at you, honey, look at these gorgeous fuckin legs. You know what? They fit around me fuckin' perfect. Your thighs? Made for my head to go right between em and for my hands to squeeze on," he rambled as he peeled off your underwear, throwing the red garment into the floor of his truck.

"And your fucking ass," he groaned, hands slipping up underneath you to grope your rear, "Made for me to paw at, darlin'."

He moved between your legs, but mostly so he could strip you of your bra and tank top.

"And your titties are made for me to kiss on," he moved his hands up your body to cup your other breast while his mouth engulfed the nipple of your left one, a hum rising from his throat as he suckled and flicked his tongue over it.

"I love your fucking tits, baby girl, I really do, but my favorite part of you is right... Down... Here."

He slid down your body, you expected him to go down on you, but you were surprised when he pressed a soft kiss to the place you'd been most insecure about lately.

Your stomach.

"I love nothing more than to lay my head right here and feel you play with my hair in bed. This right here? This is gonna hold our kids, nourish them and you, get pretty lil stretch marks trailing right on down like arrows telling me where to kiss. You know why I wanna shower with you all the time darlin?"

You shook your head.

"Because my favorite part is soaping you up and rubbing up on your cute little tummy. I know you're insecure about it, darlin', but I think it's so damn cute."

Your face was no doubt giving away how flustered you were, you tried to hide it but Bo pried your hand away.

"I don't want you hiding either, momma. I wanna see all of you when I make you feel good."

He unzipped his jeans, having lost his belt at some point while rambling on, his cock sprung free from his boxers, flushed pink and rock hard.

"And don't think I forgot your pretty little pussy, oh no, this is a goddamn masterpiece you got between your legs. Your pretty little clit... Those kissable lips... That tight, wet hole of yours... And you're always, always, always so warm for me baby. It's like you're always ready for daddy to fuck ya," he chuckled, slapping the tip of his cock against your clit.

"I am, I'm always read--Ready for your cock, Bo, fuck, fuck, I'm- I- Oh fuck!"

Your nails dug into the worn down upholstery of the seat of his truck, digging even deeper when he slid inside.

"Oh, you really were ready for me, weren't you, honey?"

Bo groaned, bracing himself against the doorframe of the truck as he pushed into you again.

"So wet for me, feels so fucking good, doll, so fucking good."

His other hand met your clit, rubbing slow circles that matched his pace, warranting a guttural moan from you as he brushed against your sweet spot.

"Mmm, that's it, nice and loud for me."

His fingers flicked over you, spreading your slick around and making you even more sensitive to the feeling of him inside you.

You whined as he stopped for a moment, adjusting his stance before pushing into you a bit faster, really hitting your spot and making your thighs shake.

"You have no idea how beautiful you are to me, especially laying here like this, taking my cock so good, baby you're like... Like a damn painting. I- Oh god- I just- I just wish you could see yourself through my eyes."

Bo panted, fingers quickening their delicious assault against your clit.

Your mind was blank now, while there weren't any negative thoughts for the moment, there really weren't any at all, just the dazed feeling you got from Bo utterly ramming into your sweet spot.

"Oh, darlin, oh my pretty little Y/N, fuck, look at you like this. Look at you. And to think you're all mine."

Bo grunted, pushing in faster, his fingers now rapidly flicking your swollen clit, the sound of wet slaps and the truck creaking accompanied your moans.

"D-Daddy-Daddy! Daddy Bo! Oh God, Oh Bo, Oh my God- I'm- I- Please- Please don't stop! Please, Bo, I'm gonna cum, please-" you stuttered and panted, thrashing under him at the overwhelming pleasure he was giving you.

"Yeah? You don't want me to stop, baby? No? You wanna cum?" He asked, his own orgasm approaching.

You nodded, utterly desperate to clench tight around him and be rewarded with his thick seed inside you.

"Then say it."

He stopped everything.

He slid out of you and stood by the doorframe of the truck.

Fuck.

"W-What? P- please daddy."

You begged him, that's what you thought he wanted, but he shook his head.

"No, baby, though I do appreciate it. If you wanna cum, you're going to have to admit it. Say that you're beautiful."

Was he out of his mind?

"What? N-No, I'm- Bo, you can't-" you protested, shaking your head.

"Guess you don't mind if I beat off in that bush then and drive ya home," he threatened.

No grin.

No twinkle in his eye.

You even searched his tone but nothing came of it.

He was dead serious.

"I'm okay, I guess," you mumbled.

"That ain't what I asked of ya, now is it?"

He brushed your clit.

His fingers felt so good.

God, you wanted to cum so badly, but with the return of the nagging voice in your head, you started to feel that gross sensation.

The one that made you want to crawl out of your body.

But Bo was going to make you fight it, even though you'd always agreed with it.

"Say it," he huffed, giving a slap to your clit.

"Mmmph! I'm- I'm average, I'm okay, please Bo it's no use just let me cum, I just-"

He was having none of it.

He crouched down and gave your clit one, long, teasing lick.

"Bo! Fuck! I- Okay fine, I have pretty eyes! Fuck!"

His lips wrapped around your clit as he played with it for a few seconds, but not nearly enough to get you off.

"Good girl, but that's still not what daddy asked 'ya, is it?"

You were going to kill this bastard the second you came down from your orgasm.

If you'd ever let yourself have it.

He could do this for hours. He'd done it before.

He'd tie you up in the worst places and play with you while he killed.

The adrenaline making him come back to you and devour your pussy, primal growls and groans of his own pleasure as you played with his hair and whimpered behind your gag.

He'd spent an entire night torturing you that way before, so you know he had no issue doing it again.

His thumb broke your train of thought as it probed your hole.

You made eye contact with him as a trail of spit left his mouth and drizzled down your pussy before he used the extra lubricant to push three fingers inside you.

You involuntarily kicked but his free hand caught your leg to make sure it didn't make contact with him.

He curled all three of them in unison, barely brushing your spot.

"Please Bo, I'm pretty."

His fingers pulled out and were replaced with his warm cock, though he was simply just using you for a cockwarming sleeve.

The tip of his length resting just below that spot that made you see galaxies.

You were so frustrsted, but you weren't about to call yourself something y-

Oh.

My.

God.

You felt a familiar buzz just below your clit and you remembered something.

He had fucked you stupid in the bed of his truck a few days prior and you'd left your vibrator in the glovebox because Lester was coming.

This bastard kept it.

"You know what that is? Hmm? You want it back and you wanna cum, you better start singing."

He pushed it over your clit for a nanosecond before jerking it back down to hum just an inch below it.

"Please, Bo, just let me fucking cum, please-"

He turned the speed up but didn't move it.

The frustration was too much.

"God! Bo! You fucking bastard, fine! I'm beautiful! I'm beautiful, goddammit, now let me fucking- Oh! Oh my God!"

The vibrator was now on the highest setting and being held directly onto your clit as he pummeled away at your spot.

You were going to cum.

No, not just cum.

He was about to make you squirt.

"Bo! Bo, please! I'm gonna- Ah- I'm gonna squirt, please-"

You were trying to get him to slow down before you soaked him, knowing that he was fully capable of making you gush like this.

"Well that's too bad now, ain't it?"

His expression was pleasured and smug as he pistoned his hips with such force that it rocked the truck to the side rather violently.

You couldn't even do anything but scream as he started rubbing the vibrator in circles across your clit, utterly helpless under him.

"God, I love this thing," he chuckled, though it was breathless and dry and you knew he wasn't about to last very long either.

"God- Bo! I'm- Please, I'm beautiful, let me cum, please, I'm so pretty, I'm gorgeous, please, I need- I- I'm-" you broke, "Daddy please."

Bo leaned forward and grabbed your face by the jaw, smushing your cheeks again.

"Then cum, princess, I ain't stopping you," he crooned, giving you a light slap when he let go.

His lips connected with yours and you couldn't help but pant and moan into his kisses as your orgasm threatened to burst between your legs.

Bo was now growling, his kisses becoming hungrier and harsher, teeth tugging at your bottom lip and tongue utterly dominating yours.

Your legs wrapped around him and that was it, the second he rammed into you with one more quick circle of your vibrator, you were squealing and whimpering into his hot mouth.

Your orgasm was so intense that your ears began to ring, you knew you were soaking Bo, but the noise he made gave away that he definitely didn't mind.

"Fuck me, I love when you do that, that's so damn hot, yeah, squirt for me, darlin', you like that? Hmm? Show daddy how much you fuckin' love it, c'mon, yeah- Yeah that's right, I- Oh, I'm gonna fill you up."

Bo was staring to lose it, still rubbing your clit with the vibrator and making a second, wet orgasm begin to impose itself on you.

You were on the verge of tears from the overstimulation, but at the same time you didn't want it to end.

You gushed again, this time harder than before, earning a loud moan from Bo as his hips slammed into yours full force.

"I'm cummin', oh my God I'm- You're making me cum, I'm g- I- Oh fuck, oh kitten, oh Y/N, fuck-"

Bo practically drooled as the sensation of his own orgasm tore through him, his head buried in your neck as he bit down on your soft skin, hard enough to leave a bruised up bite mark, but you didn't mind, as long as he kissed it better.

Bo pulled out of you and chuckled again, deep and throaty, at the sight of his cum drizzling out of you and onto the pavement.

"Oh baby, you don't know what a fucking sight you are," he hummed, gathering your slick up on his thumb and licking it off, "Mm. And look what you did to daddy."

He slid his t-shirt up over his head and threw it in the back of the truck where it landed with a wet thump.

"You sure made a mess, but I'll be dammed if it ain't a pretty one," he rubbed his hand up your bare stomach to clutch your breast.

"Lemme get you your clothes back, gorgeous. See what a nice reward you get when you're good to yourself?"

He rattled on as he gathered your clothes back up to help you back into them.

You wanted to strangle him sometimes, but you loved him more than anything.

#ns/fw #bo bo #minors don't even look #OKAY THIS IS THE FIRST TIME I'VE ALSO WRITTEN FOR BO #I Beg of you please #do not critique this and please don't rip me apart #tw: body dysmorphia #tw: low self esteem #tw: angst #tw: threats #tw: rough s**#tw: slapping #tw: pregnancy mention #tw: daddy kink #my writing

103 notes · View notes

austajunk · 3 years

Note

Please PLEASE go into detail about how protective he is over Chiaki!! I literally am begging to finally hear someone else actually acknowledge their friendship/relationship especially after having to deal with a pretty toxic anti-bi/pan Nagito rper I was on a server with for a good part of a year! (Sorry went kinda ranty but hopefully my anguish is understandable!)

Oh my lord, you’re giving me a chance to shine with my fixations?! I can’t thank you enough! Now, please understand that this is based on my perception of the series as I’ve played through the second game twice. I’m pretty good when it comes to being the person who has unpopular opinions and ships and I know claiming that Nagito is bi/pan/Demi is probably one of them. But honestly, it comes from the desire to see this boy get as much love as possible. Because he sure needs it.

Ultimately, Nagito’s sexuality is never canonly specified, so I think whether gay, bisexual, Pansexual, or what have you, we’re all well within our rights to just have fun and see what we want to in a really flawed and relatable character. And that’s what makes it interesting.

That being said, let’s talk about Nagito and Chiaki. Friendship or romantic, I don’t think you can deny that Chiaki is at least special to Nagito in some way.

Upon replaying the second game, I’ve realized how protective Nagito actually is towards Chiaki interestingly enough.

In chapter 2, she leaves to go question Fuyuhiko but Nagito stops her and tells her not to let Fuyuhiko get rough with her. Every time Chiaki’s skills help them advance, he deeply praises her. Even after he’s stopped praising all the others (which he does mostly after Chapter one, hinting he does not like some of them as actual people). But for some reason, especially during the trials, Nagito is quick to jump in and mention how wonderful Chiaki is and compliment her (only to be usually cut off by someone when he starts to ramble).

It should also be noted that Chiaki and Nagito both share an appreciation for games. Nagito seems to like more luck-based games for obvious reasons, but he also mentions that like Chiaki, he likes the Twilight Syndrome series. Both of them similarly state that they felt Monokuma was butchering a favorite game of theirs.

They also both have an odd way of trying to cheer Hajime up and joke with him, the examples shown coincidentally beside one another. Chiaki says she’s gonna look for a dirty book, throwing Hajime off and Nagito “jokingly” tells Hajime to lick his boots and now to him, but Hajime is extremely put off when he claims it was a joke. These oddballs get each other in the weirdest of ways is what I’m saying. They’re both incredibly antisocial, but their hearts are reaching the same place too when they try to make an effort.

In chapter 4, when Chiaki teams up with Nagito and Kazuichi, then leaves because they’re both being clingy, Nagito quickly follows and chases after her to make sure she’s okay. Then he chastised her for running off, looking deeply concerned. Even after his attitude change, he will answer her more directly and not ignore her. When she tells him to be quiet, he politely obeys... or maybe it’s because he’s deep in thought about her motives as he mentions he was watching the trial carefully to decide on who the traitor is.

I may just be mentioning this because they’re my OTP, but if you know about their school time together and pay attention to Nagito’s Hope versus Chiaki’s Hope, I think it’s fascinating.

Okay, now let’s head into Danganronpa 3 territory. Now this is the part where I am the most shaky as I’m still trying to determine what I take canon from this series. The thing is, a friend who got me into the series informed me that the production was way rushed and that Kodaka never wanted to do the anime in the first place. But! That being said, Chiaki and Nagito have some great moments in this and the anthology comics along with it, so let’s get into some stuff.

First of all, Nagito warmly mentions that Chiaki being their class rep makes her the true Hope of their class. And you can tell he’s serious because as he’s saying it, he’s doing that thing where he’s staring at his hand desperately like he wants eat it. You know the look.

Moving on, it’s clear that aside from Chisa, Chiaki is the only one to value and treasure Nagito. And this makes sense. In her own dying words, she loves her classmates. They are the world to her. All of them. And of course, she loves Nagito too with all her heart. As evidenced as she cradled him protectively in her arms while he’s injured. At first when Chiaki and the others are determined to stand up to Junko and get their teacher back, Nagito pleads with Chiaki not to. That his luck could not overcome them. He knows they can’t win in this situation and I do think he was actually trying to talk Chiaki out of it. But of course, when Chiaki pushes back and says she wants to go anyways, he literally can’t help himself when it comes to wanting to see Hope shine. So he agrees and praises her again because of course he does.

Until it all leads to the Pain Train with Despair coming out on top. Chiaki is brutally slaughtered and we see something new from Nagito. He breaks down crying. Tears are streaming madly down his face as a forced and twisted smile appears on his lips. He even beseeches Chiaki’s name. “You understand right? You know you’re a stepping stone for Hope!” “What has been done to Nanami is unforgivable...” Nagito’s already trying to cope. To rationalize something horrible that he just witnessed in his mind. He’s trying to protect himself as he’s utterly being destroyed and breaking down like all of his classmates. Chiaki’s death literally shatters his mind. It’s a pretty well done scene even if I’m not a big fan of the brainwashing stuff. Not to mention, the way he says “You understand right, Nanami?” As if he’s begging for her forgiveness as he falls apart. It’s so very very tragic. And of course, when being made apart of the Neo World Program, his desire to see Chiaki once more, just one more time like his classmates, brings her back to him(and the other classmates) in AI form.

Honestly... it’s pretty beautiful. Chiaki is apart of Nagito in some way and is imprinted into his mind and heart. He longed to see her as much as everyone else. This person, who doesn’t seek out relationships because his luck either gets them killed or he finds their Hope to be too weak, has a connection with Chiaki like that. This is literally a person who believes his life is just a stepping stone for better and more worthy people, someone who knows their existence is a formality at this point. And still, he does have connections. There are people capable of caring about him and loving him and Chiaki was one of those people. And he wanted to see her again in the Neo World Program. Like Chiaki said, it’s no less than miracle.

But alas, this is getting rather long, isn’t it? Well in the D3 anthology, Nagito also is concerned when Chiaki avoids eating because of her hyperfixation on gaming. Chiaki skipping out on self care?! Not cool, Chiaki. And so he challenges her to a game to make sure she’ll eat lunch. Fucking protective as hell. And yes yes, the anthology isn’t canon... but that’s the thing about Danganronpa. The series is over. Any additional info and stuff added to it is meant to enrich the experience for the fandom, so it’s canon to me. What’s the fandom gonna do? Whine at me and tell me it isn’t? That Nagito wouldn’t do these things when official anthologies and content that’s sold for Danganronpa tells me he would? So... yeah.

Ultimately, whether you ship them or not, I think this fandom is missing out on the Komanami side of things and how good their relationship is when you really observe it. :3

#danganronpa #chiaki nanami #nagito komaeda #komanami #komahinanami #hajime hinata #me: I want to give the Komanami and KomaHinaNami and Nagito is Pan/Bi crew everything they want!!#I hope my rambles suffice!#and I’m sorry you had those fandom experiences #I rp and I love playing a bi and pan Nagito so hit me up sometime

171 notes · View notes

insaneasgardian · 3 years

Text

Haircut Of Love - Sambucky

Summary: Confessions are made, and lives are changed the day Sam gives Bucky a haircut.

Genre: FLUFF

Warnings: Bucky being slightly sad while thinking of Steve, Bucky thinking that his feelings for Sam are unrequited (they're not), Idiots in love.

A/N: I have actually worked on this for longer than I should've XD A big thank you to @cassiecasyl and @aixabi for being such great friends and helping me out by proofreading, and making suggestions!

He knew he should've stopped Bucky tagging along, but the moment that infamous, "I'm coming with you!" so eagerly left the super soldier's lips, Sam knew it was pointless to persuade him to stay behind.

Not that he really minded, the mission he'd been assigned with was a tough one, and it would've been lonely if Bucky hadn't been so adamant about accompanying him.

Sam stared into the fireplace and focused on the embers as he let his thoughts wander. There were some terrible people to be stuck with in a log cabin in the middle of nowhere, but Bucky certainly wasn't one of them. He was an interesting character for sure, and Sam was sure he still didn't know a whole lot about him, but their relationship had developed all the way from 'a couple of guys' to 'almost best friends'.

"Hey", came the voice of the man Sam had so deeply been thinking of. He turned around with that signature smirk he reserved especially for Bucky, and watched with delight as the White Wolf turned a light pink color, and it wasn't because of the cold.

"I thought you might want to catch a shower, the water's nice and warm" the brunette said, and Sam nodded as he noticed his friend's damp hair from his own shower.

"Man, you need a haircut" Sam remarked, and much to his pleasure elicited a chuckle from Bucky.

"Do I?"

"It has gotten kind of longer..."

"Well, it's not easy to find a hairdresser in the forest"

"I could cut it for you"

The words slipped from his mouth before he could stop himself, and he didn't miss the way Bucky's widened ever so slightly. Sam internally scolded himself, feeling that he'd made things awkward somehow.

There was a slight pause in the atmosphere, but the ex Winter-Soldier eventually smiled. It was a weak smile, but genuine nonetheless.

"I'd like that," he told his friend, "would you mind?".

Sam shook his head, a bit too enthusiastically, and that made Bucky raise his eyebrows

“I can do it now if you want, so I don’t get your greasy ass hair all over me after I’ve gotten out of the shower”, Sam casually slipped in to look less ecstatic than he really was.

Bucky scoffed and crossed his arms at the statement, but his grin only grew wider.

“So… are you gonna give me something to cut your hair with?” his friend asked him, making a scissor snipping motion with his fingers.

The brunette’s lips tugged downwards into a frown and bit his lip as he often did when pondering. Sam couldn’t help but let his eyes wander to the bottom lip in between those pearly white teeth, but he forced himself to snap out of it.

After a brief moment, Bucky snapped the fingers on his vibranium arm and turned to walk towards the room he was staying in. “Wait there!”, he had instructed Sam, who had no intention of getting up from the comfortable position he was in anyway.

Promptly, Bucky had returned, clutching a pair of scissors that Sam immediately identified as a pair of Captain America themed kiddie scissors he had recently bought for his nephew, AJ. He burst out cackling.

“What’s so funny Samuel?” the White Wolf pouted, plopping next to his friend who was dying of laughter.

“You stole that from AJ didn’t you?” Sam pried, inwardly dancing at the thought that his secret crush would want something with his face on it.

“Psh, no… I permanently borrowed it, that’s all”, Bucky insisted, moving from the couch to sit on the floor in front of Sam’s legs so that the other man would be able to cut his hair with more ease.

“Mhm”, Sam hummed, already weaving a piece of Bucky’s hair between his fingers, and snipping it off, just like that. It seemed easy enough, so he kept on going, chopping bits of hair here and there, trimming the areas which really needed it, and taking care not to overdo the cut and end up making Bucky look bald in certain places. He was doing quite well considering that he was equipped with nothing but a pair of small, blunt kiddie scissors, which Sam was certain professional hairdressers did not use

A lovely period of pure silence fell in between the two men. The only sounds were the scissors delicately doing their job of cutting the brown locks, accompanied by the gentle crackle of the fireplace, creating a relaxing atmosphere.

“Steve used to cut my hair, you know… Used to do it all the time in the 40’s” Bucky said, breaking the silence. Sam froze in his movements, but only for a second. It was rare for this man, who had been through so much to talk about his past like this.

“We’d sit outside on the street in the summer, he’d be on a chair with his scissors and I’d sit down in front of him, punk gave a damn good haircut to be honest”, he continued, and Sam chuckled.

“People would give us dirty looks as they walked by, it wasn’t uncommon for people to think Steve and I were a couple, but it was frowned upon to be in a same-sex relationship back then… sometimes still is of course”, his tone was now sad, as if he wanted to admit something, but was refraining from doing so. Sam stopped what he was doing, and set down the scissors, obviously sensing the shift in the atmosphere.

“Still, Steve and I were just friends, that’s all he’d ever wanted to be anyway”, Bucky finally finished.

Sam got off the couch, and slipped down onto the floor next to the 107 year old. “And what about you? Did you ever want to be more than friends?”

Bucky ran a hand over his face, which donned a neutral expression, “It’s complicated Sam… I’d be into a girl one second and thinking about Steve the next”.

Sam gently nudged Bucky’s shoulder with his own, and gave him a small smile, “Bisexual then?”, he questioned.

The other man nodded, and looked at Sam with a grin now gracing his features, “Yea, but you know what? I forgot all about Steve…” he paused to dart his tongue out his mouth and wet his lips, “The day I met another guy I haven’t been able to stop thinking about”.

Sam’s world shattered the moment those words left Bucky’s lips. The thought that the man he had pined after for so long was yearning for another made him want to burst into tears right there. However, Sam Wilson was not the kind of man to be salty over the choices of others. So he kept on the smile he had been wearing the entire time his heart broke over and over again. Yet, he had been so absorbed in his own mind that he failed to notice the longing glances Bucky was shooting at him, the ones he had been giving Sam ever since he first met him.

“Happy you could get that sorted out for you man!” He said brightly, patting Bucky’s back and climbing back onto the couch to resume the haircut.

The ex winter soldier was dumbfounded. Had Sam not noticed how he felt? What if he had? What if he didn’t appreciate the advances?

There was stillness once more, but this time it was incredibly awkward. The two sat absorbed in the silence, no longer so focused on their own thoughts, but on every movement and action the other did.

“All done,” Sam finally said, and gestured towards the large wall mirror in the living room. Bucky looked into it, and nodded.

“You’ve done a nice job, thanks”, he mumbled.

“No problem” Sam told him, getting up from the couch. “I’m going to go take a shower now”, and with that, he rose and climbed the stairs to get to the bathroom. The footsteps faded away and when Bucky heard the bathroom lock click shut, he leaned his back against the couch with a sigh. He ran a tired hand over his face.

What had he done wrong? He’d watched all the movies, read all the books and listened to all the music Sam had suggested. He’d come to see Sam’s family as his own, he cherished Sarah, AJ and Cas with all his heart.

Hell, he’d even taken dating advice from Zemo…. Maybe that’s where he’d gone wrong.

Bucky wasn’t sure. He may have lost the charm he had back in the 40’s, but Sam had always accepted him for who he was. He never questioned Bucky’s past, or forced him to be more social and open. That’s the reason Bucky developed more than platonic feelings towards him. He was so easy to be around.

However, the white wolf figured that if Sam didn’t want anything to do with him romantically, the least he could do was to maintain the relationship status they had now. Not to mention, he had the perfect way to do that.

Mac and cheese. Sam’s favorite food.

A grin grew on his face as he scrambled to the kitchen. It was a tasty and easy thing to cook and would be done before Sam even got out of the shower. Bucky proceeded to locate all the necessary ingredients they had brought to the cabin, and got straight to work.

It wasn’t a difficult job at all. With his swift speed, and his mind set only on the task before him, he was done within minutes. He even managed to get two servings plated beautifully, and just in time too, because as he finished setting the table, Sam descended the stairs and made his way into the kitchen. A smile was drawn on his face at the smell of the meal, and all the previous tension seemed to have dissipated.

“Smells good in here!” he exclaimed, his eyes then landed on the beautifully presented plates of mac and cheese. He gasped and clapped his hands like an excited child, and Bucky couldn’t help but laugh. He thought it was adorable.

“Alright, alright, take a seat Sammy,” Bucky said, gesturing to the bar stools next to the kitchen island which the food rested on.

Both of them rushed to sit down and dig into their dinner. Bucky watched his friends expression as he took the first bite of his food.

Sam’s eyes closed in pure bliss, as his taste buds thanked him. “Buck, this is heaven in my mouth, tastes even better than what Sarah makes”.

Bucky blushed, but quickly tried to hide it with a chuckle, “Sarah’s my teacher, I owe it to her”.

Sam nodded at the statement, but commented no more on the topic. Instead, he took another bite and made eye contact with Bucky. “So… who’s this guy you’ve been crushing on?” he inquired.

Bucky was taken aback by the question, he blinked rapidly, “huh?” he mumbled, earning an eye roll from Sam.

“Listen man, I’ve never pressured you to tell me anything before, but we can’t pretend like that conversation didn’t happen” Sam said gently, setting his cutlery down, and reaching a hand over to place it on Bucky’s vibranium one.

The brunette gulped, closed his eyes, and took two deep breaths. He’d have to get it out. Or else it would slowly kill him to watch Sam find someone else. Even if his feelings were unrequited, the man had a right to know.

“It’s you” he said quietly before he could chicken out.

Sam slowly blinked, and shook his head, “Sorry, repeat that?”.

Bucky groaned and looked up from his plate which he’d been staring at the entire time. He gazed into Sam’s doe brown eyes with his own piercing blue ones, “It’s you! You’re the guy I’ve been crushing on!” he agitatedly replied.

Once more, there was that silence that seemed to be consuming the two of them so much lately. Bucky wanted to cry, to hide the humiliation. He was certain that Sam’s lack of words meant he didn’t feel the same, because Sam always had something to say.

“Forget it,” Bucky choked out, getting up from his seat, but Sam’s hand tightened its grip on his wrist, stopping him from getting away. The super soldier turned around slowly, trying not to make eye contact with Sam so that he wouldn’t see the tears in his eyes.

Then, all of a sudden, Sam rose from his seat and his lips met Bucky’s in what was a tender, loving kiss which shocked the latter, but he readily returned it. They stayed like that for a while, embracing each other as their arms snaked their way around each other's torsos. It was a moment neither of them wanted to break, but were forced to. Eventually, when they pulled apart gasping for air, they looked at each other in surprise, but merriment. Wide beams adorned both of their gorgeous faces, and their eyes glinted with excitement.

“So…” Bucky began, “you were desperate to get a piece of me, why, is it the new hair?” he said teasingly.

“The next time I give you a haircut, it’s gonna be turned into a mullet”, Sam threatened, making the other man raise his hands in surrender.

The mac and cheese was long forgotten as they clutched each other once again. Their hearts were bubbling and overflowing with love for one another, and it was not a love that was going to fizzle and die out. They fit perfectly in each other’s arms, like it’s where they belonged.

Two men, who had their own individual problems denying them a place to be truly content in the world, had finally found their refuge in each other.

Finit

#sambucky #sambucky fluff #tfatws #tfatws fanfiction #tfatws fluff #bucky x sam #sam x bucky #marvel #mcu #tfatws sambucky #sam x bucky fluff #bucky x sam fluff #insaneasgardian #haircut of love #haircut of love insaneasgardian #sambucky fics #sambucky fanfiction #sambucky fluffy fanfiction

91 notes · View notes

inevitably-johnlocked · 3 years

Note

Hey Steph!

Any chance you've got any fics where John and Sherlock come out publicly (an AU or just canon)? For some reason I just adORe the tension

Anyway, thanks for everything you do on your blog, it's hugely appreciated!

Hey Lovely!!

Ahhhh Hmm I thought I had a list for this but apparently not, oof.

Here’s what I can offer you with my tags in my bookmarks and MFL’s! Feel free to add some, y’all if you have any I missed!

COMING OUT

See also:

Homophobia / Sexuality / Pride || [John’s Sexuality]

John’s Friends Find Out About Sherlock

John’s Internalized Homophobia

Ex by Itsallfine (T, 1,248 w., 1 Ch. || Angsty Fluff, Love Confessions, Coming Out, Exes, First Kiss, Fake Relationship, Getting Outed) – One night, in the midst of their post-case high and on the cusp of something more, John and Sherlock run into John’s ex. His ex-boyfriend.

Down with this Ship by FrostedFlame (PinkOrchid) (M, 10,862 w., 10 Ch. || For a Case, Gay Bar, Pining, Coming Out, Slow Burn) – Sherlock drags John undercover to a gay bar - for a case, of course - looking forward to seeing John flustered by their surroundings (since you know, he's NOT GAY). John decides that he has hidden both his orientation and his feelings for his daft flatmate for far too long. He is done hiding, time to be honest with his bloody best friend in the world. He just hopes it won't change anything between them. And then it does.

The Pieces That Fall to Earth by Itsallfine (M, 49,513 w., 84 Ch. || S4 Fix-It, Epistolary, Love Confessions, Slow Burn, Parentlock, Past Abuse, Coming Out, Internalized Homophobia, Questioning Sexuality, Mental Health Issues / Therapy, Angst, Happy Ending) – John and Sherlock have hit rock bottom, but with all their armor stripped away, they can finally speak honestly, seek healing, and find the truths that matter most. An epistolary post-s4 fix-it fic. Now complete. (This fic is rated T except for one very clearly marked and easily skippable chapter, which is rated M.) Part 1 of The Pieces that Fall to Earth

Performance In a Leading Role by Mad_Lori (E, 156,714 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Hollywood / Actor AU, Secret Relationship, Falling in Love, Slow Burn, Romance, Coming Out, Fluff and Angst, Pining) – Sherlock Holmes is an Oscar winner in the midst of a career slump. John Watson is an Everyman actor trapped in the rom-com ghetto. When they are cast as a gay couple in a new independent drama, will they surprise each other? Will their on-screen romance make its way into the real world? Part 1 of Performance in a Leading Role

MARKED FOR LATER

About Being Gay by A_Candle_For_Sherlock (G, 1,088 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Coming Out, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, First Kiss, Romantic Fluff, Older Rosie) – Rosie looks up from Sherlock’s picture book about poisonous plants, gives Sherlock a look and asks, 'Are you gay, Sherlock?' and Sherlock, without missing a beat, just says 'Yes,' and continues drinking his tea, and Rosie says 'Ah,' and goes back to her plant book, and John nearly doubles over in the corner.

A Regular not at all Terrifying-for-unknown-reasons Conversation by Dodoa (T, 5,506 w., 1 Ch. || Asexual Sherlock, Unilock, Best Friends, Coming Out, Self-Discovery, Dialogue Heavy, Self Acceptance) – Sherlock is trying to work something out and goes to John for help. John might not have all the answers, but he's determined to help.

Still alive by LoLecter (M, 8,375 w., 1 Ch. || Teenlock AU || Trans!Sherlock, Suicide Attempt, Overdose, Friends to Lovers, Coming Out, Bisexual Character, Fluff, Transphobia, Asshole Parents, Big Brother Mycroft) – Sherlock has known he was transgender for a while now and he decides to come out to his parents, but they react badly and Sherlock end up trying to kill himself only to be saved by his best friend John who doesn't know anything about Sherlock being trans.

Isolated by CarmillaCarmine (G, 8,549, 6/7 Ch. || WiP || Quarantine From Virus, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Bi-Panic, Cuddling & Snuggling, Coming Out, Bathing/Washing, Bubble Bath, Kissing) – Due to an ongoing pandemic, John and Sherlock find themselves isolated at 221B.

Who I Really Am by agirlsname (T, 13,067 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE [1] or [2] || Post S4, Bisexuality, Coming Out, Grief/Mourning, POV John, Pining, Sexuality Crisis, Alcoholism, Internalized Homophobia, Angst With Happy Ending) – You don't tend to give up your heterosexual privilege without a fight.

Coming Out by LiviKate (M, 13,439 w., 5 Ch. || Teenlock, Homophobia, Coming Out, Friends to Lovers, Pining John, Oral Sex, Drunk John, Bisexual John, Teen Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Reconciliation, Arguing) – John has had feelings for his best friend for a very long time. Feelings he knows will never be returned. When John goes out to drown his sorrows in booze and girls, he finds himself falling into bed with a man for the first time instead. John doesn't expect Sherlock to think much of it, as he had never cared either way about people's sexualities. But when Sherlock finds out, things go downhill quickly, leaving John confused and alone. Can the two friends come back together after such an explosive coming out? If they do, will it be like before? Or might it be so very, very different?

Straight Boy Pain by Glenmore (NR, 18,257 w., 10 Ch. || Coming Out, Pain, Romance, Birds, Sexuality) – Sherlock is in pain. Billy Kinkaid, the Camden garroter and best man Sherlock knows, diagnoses it. Ademar Silver, a male prostitute in south London, attempts to treat it. Lestrade, kindly Detective Inspector of New Scotland Yard, doesn’t notice it. Eventually, John Watson, healer and registered medical doctor, cures it. And a beautician called Penny paints Sherlock’s toenails.

The Lying Doctor by pagimag (E, 44,285 w., 20 Ch. || S4 Fix It, Hurt/Comfort, Past Alcohol/Drug Abuse, Anger Issues, Depressed John, Watson Siblings, Coming Out, Bi John, First Time, Dom/Sub Undertones, Parentlock, Internalized Homophobia, Past Child Abuse, Angst With Happy Ending) – Sherlock and John's relationship is fragile after the events at Culverton Smith’s hospital. John struggles with guilt and anger issues. During a case he decides to visit his aunt, which leads to an unexpected development. He’s forced to reevaluate ingrained behaviours, confront long lasting issues and question how he leads his life.

In Bed by Ellipsical (E, 46,922 w., 12 Ch. || Autofellatio, Vibrators, Rimming, Blow Jobs, Coming Out, Liminal Identities, Christmas, Sex Toys, Sexual Fantasy, Fingering, Jealous John, Therapy, Flirting, Texting, Fluff, Sherlock’s Violin, Anal, Est. Rel., Semi-Public Sex, Harry Watson, Communication, Coming in Pants, Spitroasting, Double Penetration, Dirty Talk, Internalized Homophobia, Self-Acceptance, Happy Ending, PTSD John, Coping Mechanisms, Angst, Hurt/Comfort) – It’s almost Christmas, John thinks, and this, this is bullshit. The epilogue to Guilty Secrets. Part 2 of Guilty Secrets

NO! by Tildathings (M, 50,043 w., 36 Ch. || Homophobia, Bed Sharing, Military Uniforms, Past Abuse, Jealous John, Stalking, Violence, First Kiss/Time, Fluff, Pillow Talk, Coming Out, Sherlock’s Past, Shower, Cuddling, Grief and Sorrow, Hugs, Character Death) – Sherlock has been in a coma in over 8 months after he overdosed on the plane at TAB, during which time Mary and Rosie were killed by Vivian Norbury. This story starts 3 weeks after Sherlock has woken up. John is asking to move back to Baker Street.

What have you done? by Tildathings (M, 63,940+ w., 17/? Ch. || WiP || Interenalized Homophobia, John’s Family, Coming Out, Sherock/OMC, Hugging, Suicide, John Deduce’s, Nightmares, Love Confession, First Date, Bed Sharing, Psychiatry) – John have been invited by Sherlock on a pub night?! Sherlock said to him at Monday that Greg and Mike wanted him to come with them on a pub night. Sherlock is afraid that he would do something wrong socially left alone, so could John come with him? When John arrives at the pub Two Broken Hearts he sees Sherlock talking to a man.

A Change of Heart by SosoHolmesWatson (E, 65,436 w., 20 Ch. || Post-S4 / Canon Compliant, Jealous Sherlock, Past Abuse, Parentlock, Dev. Rel., Idiots in Love, Suicidal Sherlock, Implied / Referenced Drug Use, Mollstrade, Coming Out, Love Confessions, Big Brother Mycroft, John’s Childhood, POV Alternating, First Kiss/Time, Virgin Sherlock, Hand Jobs) – After all they have been through, after all the heartbreak and desolation, John and Sherlock want to make their way back to each other, still convinced that friendship is all that can exist between them. Will there be a change of heart? Part 1 of the The Pains of Growing series

Worst Kept Secrets by Sherlock1110 and sherlockian4evr (M, 61,515+w., 8/? Ch. || WiP || Engagement, Coming Out, Angst and Feels, Homophobia, Idiots in Love, Big Brother Mycroft, Fluff, Scars, Weddings, Honeymoon, Playing Pirates, Parasailing, Archaeology, Paintball, Swimming, Golf) – For the prompt: What if the thing Mycroft did to upset Mummy... was to come out? What if, as a teenager, Mycroft decided to tell his family that he is gay, and his parents disowned him for it? It's okay now, he runs the British Government, he IS the British Government, but there's still that tiny part of him that wants his parent's acceptance, especially now he's found the man he wants to spend the rest of his life with. Part 4 of the Sherlock and Mycroft Fluff series

Sacré Coeur by Mamaorion (M, 95,235 w., 27 Ch. || S4 Fix It Rewrite, First Kiss, UST / RST, Eventual Happy Ending, Coming Out, Holmes Family, Marriage Proposal, Husbands, Healing, Evil Mary, Beekeeping, Caretaker Sherlock, Mind Palace, Alzheimer’s Disease, Protective / Big Brother Mycroft, TD-12) – In this s4 fixit, John must piece together the gaps in his altered memory if he and Sherlock are to face the terror that has plagued Sherlock since childhood. As they untangle the web, seven years of hidden love ignite.

Full Court Press by MissDavis (E, 126,123 w. || College Basketball AU || Unilock, Masturbation, Homophobia, First Kiss / Time, Oral/Anal, Coming Out, Switchlock, Blowjobs) – Sherlock Holmes has accepted a scholarship to play basketball at the College of St. Bartholomew's. He expects to be their star player and turn the team's losing record around. He does not expect to fall in love with the team's captain, a certain scrappy point guard named John Watson. Or: Sherlock is the team's best shooter. John is the team's best ball-handler.

Nine and a Half Weeks by CumberCurlyGirl and Kameo (E, 175,094+ w., 35/? Ch. || WiP || American AU || Different First Meeting, Daddy Kink, Bottomlock, Anal Plug, Riding Crops, Spanking, Light Bondage, Anal/Oral, Aftercare, Posh John, Virgin Sherlock, Homophobia, Sugar Daddy John, Rimming, Coming in Pants, Light Dom/Sub, Past Sherlock / Victor, Light BDSM, Public Sex, John in a Kilt, Vibrators, Happy Ending) – Sherlock Holmes is about to graduate from high school in midwestern America. Despite his intelligence, his prospects are bleak due to poverty, an indifferent, alcoholic father and poor choices. One day, at work, he sells a riding crop to a handsome blonde Brit and his life is changed. He doesn't know what hit him - until he does. This is a story of a journey to love and self-acceptance and explores many themes along the way: drug abuse, grief, coming out, age difference, consent. Lots of sex but so much more.

Of Ice and Men by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (E, 176,906 w., 20 Ch. || Olympics AU || Paralympics, Prosthesis, Disability, Established Relationship, Threesome - Johnlockstrade, Angst with Happy Ending, Coming Out, Secret Relationship, Asexuall Sherlock, Pilot John) – Greg wants Sherlock to win his first Olympic Gold medal. Sherlock wants John to win his first Olympic Gold medal. John wants Greg to come to bed wearing all four of his Olympic Gold medals, and you didn't really think this would be that terribly serious after reading that title, did you? Bundle up, it's a Winter Olympics OT3!

Radioactive Trees In A Red Forest by Maribor_Petrichor (E, 280,251 w., 73 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-S4, Suicidal Ideations, Alcohol / Rx Drug Abuse, Coming Out / Bisexual John, Seizures, Past/Referenced/Implied Child Abuse, Hallucinations, Rehab, Celibacy, Sobriety / Relapse, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Psychological Trauma, Nice /Not Anti-Mary, John’s POV, Parentlock, First Time, Angst, Switchlock, Angst with Happy Ending) – John Watson is what happens when a man can no longer see a reason to go on. John Watson is what happens when a man starts to let go. "It is what it is." John Watson is what happens when what "it is" becomes too much to bear. This is a story of the life, death, and resurrection of John Hamish Watson.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #coming out #my fic recs #sexuality fics #mindless-octopus

144 notes · View notes

kittyfandango · 2 years

Text

Loki and bisexuality

So, Loki’s bisexual (or however an alien god self-identifies). Not really a surprise that he’s not straight, but nice to have the confirmation. I’m always glad for good bisexual representation - it’s too often a shorthand for “depraved”, “so promiscuous one gender isn’t enough”, or else it doesn’t exist at all (and you end up with something like Orange is the New Black where the clearly bisexual main character keeps “becoming a lesbian”).

But was it good representation? I don’t think so. I think it was a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it bare-minimum so Disney can get points for having the first gay character for the nth time without alienating their conservative fans and investors. I think with the show pretty much being a long list of “why Loki sucks” that it’d be easy to take his sexuality as another of those bad things if you were so inclined. I’m sure a lot of people didn’t even notice.

But I do think the bit we got was a reasonable conversation in of itself.* Two people meet and find they’re supposedly versions of the same person, it makes sense for them to try and find out what they have in common. It felt fairly natural and I wish they’d done more of that (although that would mean treating Sylvie like she was actually a version of Loki).

* I do have some complaints. One, the delivery of Sylvie’s line (”or perhaps, another prince?”) like it was some dirty little secret was kind of icky. And the other, which I didn’t realise until I came to write this, while Loki agreed that for him there had been men and women and he assumed Sylvie was the same, she never actually confirmed he was right. So they have plausible deniability if they want a straight protagonist for the Sylvie show season 2. Perhaps that was unintentional.

What would have worked for me? I think it would have to be a very different sort of show. I think a misguided but sincere attempt could have been better than the cynical corporate-approved nothing that we actually got.

Sometimes it makes sense for the characters to have a conversation about it, most of the time I'm all for “show don’t tell”. The easiest way to show sexuality without spending too much time talking is to put someone in a relationship, but I don’t think Loki’s in the right place for a that yet (somehow the show doesn’t agree). With multi-sexual identities you need enough time to show multiple relationships naturally (which usually gets you accused of retconning) or you have the super flirty character who changes partners quickly (which is one reason you get the “slutty bisexual” stereotype - that can make for a good character but I’d like to see something different, and I don’t think it works for Loki).

The show did have one mechanism that it never did anything interesting with (given how central it was to the plot) that I think would be perfect for this. Variants.

Show us a young Loki variant with a first crush. An old Loki with a long term partner. A Loki out for revenge for the loss of a lover. Make them all very clearly the same person in different circumstances. Actually use the other variants to say something interesting about our main character instead of them just being sort of there.

#loki critical #loki series negativity #queer representation #my posts

12 notes · View notes

imagineaworlds · 3 years

Text

I Had a Dream (Part Five) -- BAU Team

“Please Mistress First”

Written By: @desperately-bisexual

Request: None.

Warnings: Sir kink, Dom/sub relationship, Mistress kink, Master kink, dirty talk, bondage, BDSM, degradation, edging, nipple clamps, hitachi wand play, fingering, oral (fem receiving), ruined orgasms. The reader does go by they/them pronouns, however, the team refers to them as female when saying “good girl”.

Pairing: BAU team x Nonbinary!Reader (fem anatomy), Aaron Hotchner x Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau x Emily Prentiss

Word Count: 1776

A/N: This is shorter, I apologize, but I think the next chapter (or maybe the one after that) will be the last one!

“I’ll take those,” Hotch said gruffly from his seat. He scratched his five o’clock shadow while he stood, then took a few steps towards the bed. I watched Emily pass her panties to him over me. “Don’t go easy on them.”

After a silent moment, they both smirked, and Emily climbed onto the bed. Her hold on the chain didn’t waver as she threw one of her legs over me so that my lips were practically against her clit. I dared to lick. Emily moaned and fell forward, her hands catching herself by pressing flat against my chest. I tried again, but my attempt was caught short when she pulled at the chain until the clamps were continuously tugging at my sensitive nipples. I moaned. At the same time, Emily lowered herself, letting me wrap my lips around her clit, and Reid turned the toy up again, pulling his fingers out of me so that there was less pleasure to push me towards the edge. They wanted me to focus solely on Emily. They wanted me to make her feel good so that they could reward me with a ruin— I could make that happen.

I flicked my tongue over her clit, then licked up and down her slit, tasting how sweet she was. I fucking loved how she tasted. I loved how wet she was for me. I loved how she grinded her hips on my face to encourage me to stick my tongue into her. I didn’t hesitate to push my tongue past her entrance and into her warm home. She moaned and tugged harder on the chain, making me moan against her.

“Just- Just- Just like that—” she moaned.

“Are they making you feel good?” I heard Hotch ask.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Don’t let them get close before Emily,” Hotch told Reid.

That was when I felt the flogger hit my stomach again. That only made it worse, though. I felt like the more Rossi punished me with the flogger, the quicker my orgasms were building.

“Eyes on me,” Hotch demanded of Emily.

“I- I can’t… They’re…”

“Are they hitting all the right spots?”

Emily moaned as I flicked my tongue over her clit again. “Yes, Sir!” She fell forward again, her grasp on the chain disappearing within an instant. I sighed against her. “Fuck.”

“Are you going to cum on their tongue?”

“Yes—“

“Faster, slut,” Hotch commanded me, replacing Emily’s grip on the chain. My fingers found the headboard and squeezed a tight hold around it. My eyes screwed shut, and all I could think about was wanting Emily to cum for me. “Reid, turn it up again.” The toy increased speed. “Rossi—“ He didn’t need to be told to hit me again. I moaned, sending vibrations through Emily’s clit. felt her legs shake against my shoulders. “Watch me while you cum.”

She must have been close. I wished that I could’ve thrust my fingers into her, to feel how tight she would squeeze around me as she came. She tasted and sounded so sweet. I bet she would’ve felt like puddy falling apart in my hands. Tugging at the restraints was still proving to be futile, but I just couldn’t stop myself. The urge to touch her and to hold the toy against my clit right where Reid had it was… it was immeasurable.

Emily grinded her pussy against my tongue as I heard her kiss Hotch. I heard them moan into each other’s mouths, and just as she came, her body shaking involuntarily, her volume rose before instantly being muffled by another kiss with Hotch. I kept lapping at her clit. Her climax started subsiding, but I didn’t stop.

“They’re so desperate to cum, they’re not going to stop pleasing Emily,” Rossi said with a chuckle. “Reid, does that thing go any faster?”

When I felt the vibrator turn up all the way, my tongue stopped moving against Emily so that I could scream out. Emily panted, “Ruin them.”

I kept my eyes shut, trying to ignore the pleasure coursing through my over-stimulated clit because I didn’t want the ruin. I knew that it was supposed to be my reward, but it didn’t feel like it now. I just wanted to cum. Was that really all too much to ask? Maybe if I made Emily cum again, they’d let me cum. Maybe. It was worth a shot. So, despite the way I was already falling apart on the vibrator, I stuck my tongue inside her again.

“Fuck!” she yelped. She nearly fell forward again, but either Hotch or Rossi must’ve caught her because she stayed upright, but not willingly because I could sense how weak she was. “They’re such a brat—”

“Cum on their tongue again,” Hotch interrupted gruffly. She let out a strangled breath. “It won’t take much, will it?”

“No, Sir…”

I smirked lightly, gliding my tongue up and down her slit, taking a chance every so often to fuck her hole or circle her clit. Hotch was right, it wasn’t going to take long. I could already tell that she was close again. I wanted her to cum. I wanted her to fall apart for the second time before I could release my edge— which was proving to be a difficult task.

“No, no, no,” I mumbled, taking a moment to breathe. “No—”

“Stop holding it,” Rossi told me. “We want to ruin you. Don’t be a fucking brat.” He flogged me again. I yelped and felt the knot in my stomach finally reach its peak. There was nothing I could do but tug at all of the restraints and continue to lick at Emily’s pussy as I tipped over the edge. “Pull it away now!” he commanded Reid.

“No!” I screamed as Reid removed the hitachi wand from rubbing against my clit.

Just as my orgasm was finally crashing through me at full force, they took it all away. I was still cumming, my body still tiring out through my climax, but I didn’t gain any relief from it. My walls clenched around nothing and my clit throbbed, but that was it. It didn’t feel good. It felt useless. It felt exhausting, and it took a toll on my body. That didn’t matter, though. My body felt like it had received the pleasure of an orgasm, but my mind was convinced that nothing happened. It meant that I was desperate for more. My own mind was playing tricks on me, and I hated it. I hated every damn second of it, and it was all their fault for doing it to me. Fuckers.

When I stopped moving and making noise, Reid pressed the vibrator to my clit again. I let out a quiet moan, but that was all I could do. Rossi hit me again and told me to keep pleasing Emily if they were even going to consider giving me another ruin. I sighed and continued tongue fucking Emily. They all promised that they were going to break me, and they finally did. All it took was one ruin. Who knew?

“Watch this,” Emily said. Next thing I knew, the clamp on my left nipple was being pulled off. I moaned against Emily, feeling the pain shoot through my breasts, down my stomach, and straight to my core. As I writhed in pain, I felt someone suck my nipple into their mouth. I moaned again. “Fuck!” She pulled the other one until it came off, making me moan roughly again. “I’m close,” she croaked.

The mouth on my nipple changed to the other one, making me squirm uselessly once more. The more they sucked, nibbled, and pulled, the more I felt the pain from the clamps turn into pleasure. I relaxed. Emily was shaking over me, so I just tried to focus on her clit, ignoring the vibrator Reid was rubbing up and down my slit. I shivered.

“I’m gonna cum,” she let out through a shuddered breath. The mouth on my nipple pulled away. “They’re doing so well, Sir.”

Hotch let out a throaty chuckle. “Cum so we can ruin them again.”

Emily bit back a moan. Her thighs squeezed my ears, her hands grabbed my breasts roughly, ignoring the way I protested against her throbbing clit because she was finally tipping over the edge again. I tried to ignore how her fingers massaged my sore boobs, but as she came down from her high, I wasn’t distracted by anything anymore, so all I could do was think about my aching nipples and overstimulated clit.

“Please tell me they’re close,” Emily begged.

Reid chuckled. “They’re already holding another one back.”

“Master told you not to hold your orgasms back, brat!” Hotch scolded.

I panted and whined as Emily rolled off me, falling into Hotch’s arms. A tear slid down my cheek as I tried to stop myself from cumming, despite my orders to let go. Reid immediately noticed. He smirked at me and leaned up to wipe my tears away.

“Already broken, slut?”

I nodded. “Yes, Mister S.”

“You really want us to just fuck you, don’t you?”

“Yes, Mister S.”

“What would you do for it?”

“Anything.”

Anything?”

I gulped. “Anything, Mister S.”

“Then cum, like we told you to.” He grabbed my thigh as hard as he could with his free hand.

I screamed and shook as I let go, relief washing over me as fast as possible. I moaned as he held the vibrator against me a little longer than anticipated. There was a moment when I thought that maybe he would let me ride it out, but he pulled away unexpectedly. I cried again. I couldn’t move or even verbally protest anymore. All I could do was lay still and accept the fact that I wasn’t going to cum the way I wanted to.

“Thank you, Mister S,” I said weakly.

He turned the toy off and set it to the side with Rossi’s flogger. Rossi was done, it seemed. He had finished doing what he came for, and now it was just his turn to watch, like Hotch originally was. Taking his place was JJ, though. She was standing next to Hotch and Emily, running her hands along Emily’s shaking arms. Emily turned and grabbed JJ’s face. Hotch stood by and watched as they kissed deeply and passionately in front of him, both of them moaning.

“You taste good, Mistress,” JJ mumbled against Emily’s lips.

“Look at me,” Reid demanded. My gaze immediately snapped to him. I watched as he stepped back towards the bed, then quickly stuck a single finger inside of me. “Who’s going to fuck you first?”

-------------

criminal minds family: @peggy1999 @gorgeousdarkangel @alex--awesome--22 @oceaneblu @brithedemonspawn @absolutemarveltrash

146 notes · View notes

sistersblack · 3 years

Note

Your crack posts are great but I'm curious what your serious thoughts/headcanons for Lucius are. or are those it?

fjdjd no they’re not it (at least not really; i think to an extent his wealth and status would allow him to just be Like That but my crack posts are definitely exaggerated). i have a post from a while ago where i talk about him more seriously but i don’t think i’ve done headcanons??? i’ll do some for you now

full disclosure i’m half asleep so these won’t have any real structure to them. also i’m definitely going to forget important ones since rn my fandom mind is elsewhere. that said:

these are silly but personality wise i think he’s a scorpio (november birthday) & probably neutral evil

competitive to a fault

bookish but hides it. not completely (it’s good to look smart!) but i imagine he wants his intelligence to appear more effortless than it is

on that note, i hc he has a lot of shallow knowledge across a wide range of topic with a few areas of interest where he digs deep. but it’s important to him that he can carry a conversation on any topic without looking like an idiot

and again on this note: used to raid severus’ bookshelves, especially his muggle books, and especially historical ones. sometimes they’d even trade books or knowledge. it’s not because he cares about muggles but because he hates feeling out of the loop.

genuinely enjoys fashion and keeps up with trends just as much as narcissa does. knows multiple charms specific to crafting/mending clothes.

buys his wife flowers weekly just because. buys even more when he fucks up.

likes animals but not necessarily your traditional pets. enjoyed care of magical creatures at school & excelled in it. has an aviary at the manor where he keeps rare birds (in addition to his peacocks) and gets annoyed when anyone other than him goes near it (including narcissa and draco. including when draco was just a curious baby. it’s definitely caused arguments but they’re his birds!!!)

collects rare/expensive wine but doesn’t like the taste of it. only drinks it when he has to.

artistically gifted. was taught at a young age how to paint by his mother. it’s one of the few happy memories he has of her and he holds it dear (but he won’t admit it!!!)

related: he continues to create art well into adulthood but hides it from most people. still gifts narcissa oil paintings of herself every other anniversary.

his parents were a marriage of convenience, not love. he’d resigned himself to the same fate and is genuinely surprised at how thankful he is when he gets to marry someone he loves.

bisexual, baby.

is an excellent swimmer.

has like, definitely read at least one (1) trashy romance novel just to “see what the fuss was about.” likes to quote the most ridiculous lines from it at inappropriate times.

his mother died when he was still quite young. the details for this one change depending on what i’m writing, but generally it happens before his thirteenth birthday (sometimes on it). he’s forced to get over it quickly (abraxas is indifferent to it and doesn’t like that lucius isn’t) & as a result his emotional growth is.... stunted.

has a messy relationship with his father. was abused but doesn’t see it that way; he thinks abraxas was just “shaping” him into the perfect heir. (he won’t address why the idea of using some of his father’s methods on draco makes him sick to the stomach.) aside from these ~lessons~ on how to proudly represent the family name, he and abraxas generally get/got along and lucius maintains that they had a good relationship.

took part in underground duelling clubs & the occasional underground fight club. gambled a loooooooooooot of money.

was originally intended to marry andromeda even though she wasn’t his first pick. (narcissa was!!!! i’ll die on this hill!!)

also on that note: knew andromeda was fooling around with ted & turned a blind eye more than once bc he thought it’d work out in his favour. it’s one of the few secrets he keeps from his wife.

has a strategic eye & gets used for it. is a successful leader. spent most of the first war giving orders (doesn’t like to get his hands dirty, if he can help it).

collects antiques but like, is very serious about it.

polyglot.

can turn off his morality like a light switch so long as the situation is disconnected from those he truly cares about.

actually had to work a job at the ministry in his young adulthood. in fact this is like a malfoy family hc for me; i think they have to contribute a certain amount to the malfoy vaults before they can be deemed worth of becoming head of the family. the money doesn’t have to be acquired lawfully, but most of them have worked jobs before.

insecure in his ability to give open affection. he never received much of it & had to learn. appears cold because of it.

doesn’t like messy or gratuitous torture or death. views bellatrix’s methods as “distasteful.” gets off on elegant violence.

very dry sense of humour

can dance and did actually teach snape how to

has like, no friends. at least not genuine ones. narcissa is his best friend and has been since they were quite young. she’s one of the few people he allows himself to relax around—though their relationship is eventually also very messy, snape is the other. there’s a few reasons for it, mostly that severus knew him when he was young/before he really established himself as the head of the malfoy family (tm) & that he’s seen severus at his worst and knows the other man isn’t in a place to judge.

exceptionally gifted at manipulation. likes to do it as a fun pass time. i wasn’t joking when i said his motto should be gaslight gatekeep girlboss

OH and used to hit/abuse house elves for attention

my brain is broken and i can’t think of more rn BUT i love talking about him so if i remember some important ones i miss i’ll definitely rb with more!!! thank you for this ask 🤍

#lucius #mine #lucius malfoy #lucissa #anonymous

84 notes · View notes

bucketslutz · 3 years

Text

Godspeed

Summary: You've been working as Marcus Moreno's assistant for years, but during all this time you've also been hopelessly in love with him. You're unsure if he feels the same way, but as of late you've been catching him stare at you. He's said things that have seemed to have an ulterior definition and it's made you suspicious of his feelings. When a pipe bursts in your apartment, leaving your home unlivable while it's being renovated, Marcus invites you to stay with him and Missy till it's fixed. Will you fold and finally confess your feelings for him?

You can read Godspeed on AO3 here.

Warnings: 18+, smut, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, Marcus takes reader’s v-card, fluff, domestic-ish, AFAB reader, bisexual reader.

If Marcus was good at one thing, it was making your job a million times harder than it needed to be. He didn’t do it on purpose, he just tended to be more forgetful than you’d expected someone of his reputation to be. Whether it’d be meetings with the Heroics, grocery shopping, or even Missy’s parent teacher conferences, everything always managed to slip his mind. You suppose it is your job to keep track of all these things for him, remind him, and make sure he stays on top of all of his responsibilities. When he hired you, you were still a junior in college and his wife had passed away only a year prior. You didn’t expect that you’d be using your BA in international relations to be babysitting a grown man, but you don’t mind. He pays you substantially and he’s taught you so much over the years. You’re thankful that he even considered you for the job, the leader of the Heroics, when you’re far from interesting yourself. But he’s always been so kind and patient with you. Your first day you were fumbling over everything; you spilled coffee on his white button up, you accidentally packed Missy a peanut butter sandwich in her school lunch when she has a severe peanut allergy (luckily Marcus had glanced inside the unzipped lunchbox and swiftly threw it away), and you forgot to go grocery shopping that day. You hid inside the half bath off of the living room and cried from the stress, feeling like an absolute and complete fuck-up. Marcus knocked ever-so-gently on the door and you choked out a measly “I’m fine. Be out soon,” as a response. He didn’t buy it, obviously as he heard your sniffling from down the hall, and opened the door with a concerned look on his face. You were sitting on the floor, absolutely spent from the emotionally exhausting day. He got down with you and comforted you, talked you down from the breakdown and explained that he knew his schedule will take some time to get used to, but you’re a capable and strong individual who will catch on quickly.

“Cariña, I’m not disappointed in you. Mistakes will happen, you’ve gotta break a few eggs sometimes to make an omelette,” he told you with a wink, which caused you to snort at his very dad-ish remark; at that point, you had already forgotten about all the things you screwed up that day and was ready to start fresh tomorrow. And he was right, you caught on quickly. He’d begun saying a million times how life has seemed to have gotten easier since you entered it. You could’ve sworn there was a glint of something behind his eyes when he’d say it, maybe admiration, respect, perhaps even love. But you’d brush it off with a modest smile, trying to soften the weight of his words by saying you’re just doing what you’re being paid to do. He’d shake his head, trying his best to make you understand how much you’ve impacted his life. But you’re not used to someone insisting you deserve more respect than you give yourself, and Marcus showers you in praise every single day. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find the compliments flattering, especially coming from someone like him. You’ve always found him very attractive, even before you started working for him. A lot of your friends in college would tease you about it, not finding him nearly as charismatic as Miracle Guy, but you stuck to your guns. You’d hoped that when you met him you wouldn’t be disappointed, praying that he was just as kind in person as he appeared to be on the news. But now that you know him, he’s more than kind...he’s considerate, caring, patient, and a wonderful father. You’re beyond lucky to have met someone like him. He’s changed your life for the better, and you’ll never stop being grateful for his generosity. He makes it too easy to fall in love with him; his warm smile, chocolate brown eyes, his dad jokes. You even love the parts of him that wouldn’t necessarily be that interesting to anyone else, yet they are to you; the way he eats sandwiches by nibbling all the crust off of the sides then working his way to the middle in a circular pattern, or the way he hates to make his bed because he’s “just going to get back in it at the end of the day anyways,” or how he sometimes takes a minute to get a joke in a movie or TV show and will laugh for way longer than he needs to. You’ve been hopelessly in love with him for years now, and it’s made your job uncomfortable from time to time.

Once he started going back in the field, he’d come back to his house in immense pain every day. And for a little while, you just gave him some advil and a heating pad to leave him to his devices. But the pain and discomfort got worse, and he suggested a massage would relieve the pain. Which of course it would, and you should have no problem doing that for him. He wasn’t even necessarily asking you, he just said that a massage would feel better and he should go get one. But you still took it upon yourself to give him one anyways, perhaps as an excuse to touch him, but you care about him and you wanted him to feel better. He protested, of course, not wanting to inconvenience you, but he ultimately succumbed when you straddled his back and began rubbing his sore muscles. You did everything in your power to not seem as turned on by his groans of pleasure as you were; trying to hide the way your breath hitched when he choked out a “Yes, right there. Perfect,” between his shallow grunts. He had you in the palm of his hand, and he didn’t even know it. Your best friend has been telling you to make a move for months, but you’re too shy, and you’re not even sure if he feels the same way. He could very well want all of his assistants to stay for dinner, or movie night, or offer to let you stay in the guest bedroom when a pipe burst in your apartment leaking water all over your living room. You didn’t want to accept at first, feeling like you’d be overstepping, but Marcus insisted. He said he and Missy didn’t mind, especially considering you were way better at cooking meals than he was. You finally accepted the offer, figuring it’d also be way easier to work when you’re in closer quarters. You’d be cutting out commute time, and you wouldn’t have to get up so early to get there in time to make breakfast before Missy leaves for school. And you do love sleeping. So you accepted, what’s the worst that could happen? It’s not like you’ll confess your love for him while you’re staying over; so long as you stay away from the alcohol.

You knock gently on Marcus’ bedroom door and call out his name softly, coffee cup and newspaper in hand. You hear a muffled groan in response, and take that as your cue to enter. Cracking the door open, you see him laying on his stomach tangled up in his sheets with a pillow covering his head. He hated mornings.

“Marcus, it’s time to get up. You have a meeting this morning,” you coo as you enter his bedroom. He rolls over and pulls his head out from under his pillow, sporting the worst bedhead you’ve seen on him yet; you bite back a laugh.

“It’s early,” he grumbles, obviously very groggy from his slumber. You settle on the edge of the bed, offering him the cup of coffee to which he sits up and takes the mug from you eagerly.

“You didn’t see me complaining about the hour when I had to get up at 4 am and bust my ass here every morning, just so I could make breakfast for you and your daughter,” you snide playfully. You don’t resent him for that, and he knows that. He works hard and has a lot on his plate, and he knows you understand that. But it’s become almost like a running joke between the two of you that he can’t complain because “you have it harder.”

“Touché,” he says, pausing to say your name, “Touché.” He takes a few sips of his coffee and holds his hand out for the newspaper, which you then hand to him. He takes a quick sip, contentedly. “Mm, why is it whenever I make coffee it takes like dirty socks, but when you do it, it tastes like heaven. Are you hiding a fancy coffee maker here that I don’t know about?”

“Hm, don’t know. Maybe I’m magic,” you remark jovially, smiling warmly at him. His eyes lock onto yours for a moment and he returns the smile.

“Yeah, something about you sure is magic,” he says, that familiar glint of... something in his eyes. Then he gets up from under his covers and pats your leg with the newspaper as he exits his bedroom, leaving you feeling strange after that encounter. Not a bad strange, you just sensed there was an air of something hanging around him. You’ve been feeling that a lot with him for a while. He’s just said or done things that hinted at meaning more than what it was, but you’ve been trying to brush it off as you looking for something that wasn’t there. You stood up from his bed, tidying up his covers a little so they no longer looked like someone just rolled out of them. You shook your head at the sight of some of his dirty clothes scattered all over the floor and took it upon yourself to pick them up and toss them in his hamper for you to wash later this afternoon. Making your way downstairs, you can hear Marcus shuffling around in the kitchen, humming the chorus of Raspberry Beret by Prince. Another thing you loved about him, he was always humming something around the house, to Missy’s dismay, but you never got tired of it. It warmed your heart to see him so happy. While you didn’t know him before the passing of his wife, you could tell that it still brought him down sometimes when you first started working for him. He’d come home late from work, immediately go to the liquor cabinet, and lock himself in his office for the rest of the night. A year or so ago he finally went through her old things with you and got rid of a lot of stuff. He kept a lot of her belongings, mostly for Missy, but was finally ready to throw a lot of her things away. So the times when you hear him singing absentmindedly, it reminds you that he’s healing and it makes you happy to finally see that after so many years of grief. Entering the kitchen, you cross over to the island and finish plating Marcus’ and Missy’s pancakes; Marcus was sitting at the kitchen table, reading the newspaper and sipping on his coffee. You set his plate in front of him and he glances up at you, smiling brightly.

“Thanks, these look great. Do these have bananas in them?” he asks excitedly.

“Yep, of course,” you reply with a grin, running your hand over his shoulder before turning back to cross over to the island. You know full well his favorite breakfast is banana pancakes, so you make them for him whenever he has to get up extra early for meetings.

“You know me too well,” he teases, spreading a glob of softened butter on the top of his pancake. You hear footsteps descending the staircase rapidly and the appearance of Missy in the kitchen shortly thereafter, dressed and ready for school.

“Hi dad!” she greets her father, then you, and settles in her chair at the kitchen table. You set her plate of pancakes in front of her along with a small plate of bacon. Marcus glances at you, then the bacon, then back at you, his eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Why does she get bacon and I get fruit?” he whines, through a mouthful of pancake.

“Because you’re susceptible to heartburn, Missy is not,” you tell him, smacking his hand as he reaches for one of her slices. Missy sticks her tongue out at her father, teasing him as she munches on her bacon. “Quit your whining, Moreno. Fruit is good for you.”

“Outnumbered and outwitted,” he remarks dejectedly, poking at the fruit on his plate. You roll your eyes at his dramatics and finish plating your own breakfast, with extra pieces of the assorted fruits that you especially love. You catch Marcus’ gaze lingering on you for longer than what would be considered “a passing glance.” Once you lock eyes with him, he turns his head back to his newspaper immediately pretending he wasn’t just staring at you. Okay, you can safely say now that he’s officially been acting weird. You don’t have the energy nor the time right now to address his behavior, so you opt to join him and Missy at the table and silently finish your breakfast before you have to drive Missy to school.

…

These chores have been kicking your ass today. You were too preoccupied with the burst pipe in your apartment last week that you weren’t able to do the laundry, so now you’re gifted with two weeks worth of laundry to wash, dry, iron, fold, and put away. It’s almost the end of the work day and you just finished folding the last load. You huff as you haul the basket up the stairs and down the hall to Marcus’ bedroom. You hum absentmindedly as you put his clothes away, tuning out your surroundings as your music blasts through your earbuds. This is the only part of laundry you really like. Firstly, because it’s the easiest part, and secondly because you get to listen to your music in peace without anyone bothering you. Being in the house alone means you can scream/sing the lyrics to your favorite songs without Marcus or Missy making fun of you. Except you didn’t realize you weren’t home alone right now, because Marcus has been watching you, leaning against the threshold of his bedroom door. You stopped dead in your tracks and startled when you noticed his presence. Clutching your chest with your hand you laugh out of embarrassment.

“Marcus, what the fuck? Why didn’t you tell me you were here?” you ask, frustrated that he just completely ruined your vibe.

“I like hearing you sing. I’ve got my own concert right here in the comfort of my own home,” he half teases, half remarks flirtily at you. He’s staring you up and down, as if you were a sight for sore eyes in your ripped mom jeans and bleach dyed t-shirt. Your hair was lazily thrown up into a messy bun for convenience, some strands hanging around your face to frame it.

“Whatcha listening to?” he asks, crossing towards you.

“Um, Godspeed, by Frank Ocean. You wouldn’t know him, as his career exists post-Prince and Queen, grandpa,” you joke playfully. He shakes his head and rests his hands on his hips.

“Alright, indulge me then. I wanna listen.” Sighing, you oblige and pull your phone out of your pocket and tuck your earbuds away. You start the song over from the beginning and turn the volume all the way up as the song begins. Marcus stares off and listens intently, taking in the synthetic sounds that prelude the lyrics. Once Frank Ocean begins singing, a small smile appears on his face and he nods his head.

“I like that, reminds me of you,” he says sweetly, offering his hand out to you. You glare at it suspiciously, not really sure what he’s asking. “Dance with me.” A blush creeps up on your cheeks and you take his hand happily.

Marcus moves one of his hands to the small of your back while the other clutches yours. You bring your hand to his shoulder and begin swaying with him to the music, singing along to the lyrics softly. He’s staring deep into your eyes and trailing his hand up and down your back, leaving goosebumps wherever it goes. You’ve never felt more in love with him than in this moment. He’s content just swaying with you and staring into your soul. And this song reminds him of you. Because of what? Is this how he feels about you? There will be mountains you won’t move. Still I’ll always be there for you, how I do. He has always been there for you. He’s said he will a million times; when your dad died and your mom became estranged, he didn’t expect anything of you. All he did was text or call you ever-so-often to check in on you and make sure you were doing okay. He was one of the only people who really made you feel cared for at that time. That’s when you fell in love with him. You realized that you wouldn’t have gotten through that without his support and care. He and Missy dropped off a gift bag of all of your favorite snacks and movies one night and they spent the evening with you watching movies. Missy fell asleep on your couch and you fell asleep leaning against Marcus’ chest. It was the best you’d slept since your father’s passing. The song ends, leaving you and Marcus swaying to silence, anticipating each other’s next move. Eventually you both stop swaying, your hands move up to lace around the back of his neck and his move to cradle the small of your back. His mouth keeps parting and he inhales sharply, as if he’s about to say something, but he’ll purse his lips, second-guessing himself. You don’t know how, but you know what he wants to say. You can feel it as you look into his eyes. You can feel it when you catch him staring at you. You can feel it every time he enters a room.

“Say it, Marcus,” you plead, your voice barely above a whisper. You stare at him desperately, you want, no--need to hear him say it. Because you both know how he feels. He just needs to say it. He stares at you lovingly, and brings one of his shaky hands up to brush a stray strand of hair out of your face. You inhale sharply at his touch, anticipating the words you’ve been wanting to hear him say for years.

“I’m in love with you,” he admits, his voice dripping in his signature rasp, saying your name as if he was blessed by the gods themselves to have the ability to say it. “I’m hopelessly in love with you, cariña. I always have been, and I always will be.”

Your heart beats out of its chest by his admission, your stomach somersaulting and your skin ablaze. I love you, Marcus. Truly, deeply, I do. Your eyes begin to well up, not from sadness, or even joy, but from relief. After years of uncertainty, wonder, even frustration, you finally know how he feels about you. How he’s always felt. It feels as though a weight’s been lifted off of your shoulders. You love him. You’ll shout it from the rooftops, if you have to. I love him, I love him, I love him, I love him. Tears begin sliding down your face as Marcus cups your cheek with the palm of his hand. You nuzzle into his touch, revelling in the way he so effortlessly cares for you.

“I love you, Marcus. I always have,” you finally confess, your voice shaky from the crying. You sniffle and let out a light laugh in relief. You finally said it, and so did he. His eyes look glassy, and he appears to be biting back tears. He smiles lovingly at you, clearing his throat to try and push down the lump that’s been forming. He presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, stroking your head with the pad of his thumb as he does so, and pulls you into his arms, hugging you tightly. He cradles the back of your head while his other hand wraps tightly around your back. Your arms hook under his, clutching his back eagerly.

“I love you too, cariña,” he whispers, his lips pressed atop your head. You close your eyes, revelling in his hold on you for a moment before you decide to pull away and look up into his eyes.

“Kiss me,” you whisper, your eyes searching his for the need you have to lock your lips with his. He doesn’t hesitate to dip his head and pinch your chin, tilting it up towards his face, and sealing his admission of love with a needy, gentle kiss. You sigh into the kiss, feeling sparks all throughout your body. He pulls you into his chest, your body now flush against his and your arms wrapping around his neck. He slides his tongue along your closed lips and you part them, welcoming his tongue into your mouth. Your tongues tangle, the both of you needily searching each other’s mouths. His hands begin roaming your body, sliding up and down your waist, toying with the hem of your top and grazing his fingers over the skin of your lower back. As if he was asking permission to slide his hands up your bare back. You nudge his arm lazily and he complies, sliding his hands up your spine leaving goosebumps in his wake. You gasp against his lips as his hands explore your back, pressing further into him as best as you can. He mumbles into the kiss, gripping your bare waist.

“Mm, Missy home?” he asks against your lips. You shake your head, of course he’d forgotten that she was staying over at a friend’s; you had to bust your ass this afternoon running errands and trying to drop her off in time.

“Friend’s house,” you tell him between kisses. He nods, tugging the fabric of your shirt up.

“Do you want me to take this off, honey?” he asks gently, his lips moving from yours to your cheek then your neck as he trails love bites up and down the sensitive skin at the nape of your neck.

“Yes, please,” you reply breathlessly. He slips your top over your head leaving you in your bra. Not wanting to be the only one shirtless, you bring your fingers up to his tie and loosen it before slipping it over his head, working impatiently on the buttons of his dress shirt. Soon you’re both shirtless, chests heaving as your lips lock together feverishly once again. He starts pushing you towards the bed till your calves meet it.

“Lay down--if-if that’s-if you’re okay with that, cariña,” Marcus says, trying his best to seem assertive, but in his heart he’s too gentle and caring to force you to do anything. You roll your eyes and spin him around, shoving him back onto the bed and climbing onto his lap. Supporting your weight by pressing your hands to his bare chest, you dip down to kiss him again. This time they were sloppy and needy, you wanted to savor every bit of him and memorize the way his lips melted into yours. The way his stubble poked your lip, the way his tongue glided across yours, the feeling of his breath against your face. His hands slide down to grip your ass, kneading it through your jeans. You grin into the kiss, enjoying his hands all over you and the way he’s possessively groping your ass.

“Take off my bra,” you command against his lips. He nods eagerly, his fingers fumbling with the straps of your bra before finally releasing the clasp at the back. You shrug off your bra and slip your arms out of the straps, the garment falling onto his bare chest. He chuckles once it plops onto him, he tosses it to the floor and smiles up at you giddily; he looks at you as if you just gave him the best thing you could have ever given him. You roll your eyes at his excitement.

“Why are you so excited? You never seen a pair of boobs before?” you tease, a blush creeping over his face as he realizes you’ve noticed the way he’s been ogling your chest.

“I just never thought you’d let me look at you like this,” he says, with a slightly somber tone. Did he really think you weren’t going to love him back? He must’ve been feeling the same way you have all these years; the yearning, the pining, and the pain of never really being sure if they loved you in return. But you were here now, on top of him in his bed without a shirt on. You grab his arms and pull him up towards you so he’s sitting up, while you remain straddling his lap. He strokes your face tenderly, taking every bit of you in. You turn your cheek into his touch and plant a chaste kiss against his palm, Marcus smiles at you in return. Your heart could not be full of any more love right now. The way he’s looking at you, touching you, kissing you...you’ve never felt this much love from anyone at once. You don’t think you’ve loved anyone like you’ve loved Marcus. Even though you haven’t really had a serious relationship since high school, a relationship that scared you away from love, but you still didn’t think that you’d let someone enter your heart again. Marcus proved to you from the beginning that he’d never hurt you, so you’ve always trusted him, which is something that you don’t like giving away so easily. Truth is, you’ve not even let a man look at you naked since you were a freshman in college; he was an asshole who took advantage of you and your body. And when you told him you weren’t ready to go all the way, as you’re still a virgin, he was fine with it...Till he decided to ghost you the next day. That made your experiences with men even more volatile. It left such a bad taste in your mouth that you never got around to actually having sex with a man. You got by in college with occasional hookups with women, but you always made sure to leave before they woke up, so as to avoid any festering feelings. Marcus got you to a point in your life where you could trust someone like him, finally. He’s treated you well, he’s loved you more than anyone ever has, he’s taken his time with you by being ever-so-patient. And he will always be your rock no matter what.

“Marcus, I want you to see the rest of me,” you whisper, holding his face in your hands. He smiles warmly at you, his coffee-colored eyes holding every ounce of your pain you’ve allowed him to hear and see. He obliges immediately, stripping you of the rest of your clothes, stroking your exposed skin with his feather-like touch. He’s gentle, loving, caressing your skin like you might crumble under his fingertips if he applies too much pressure. You straddle his clothed lap now completely naked, your slick lips gliding over the rough fabric of his jeans as his erection applies intoxicating pressure against the length of your cunt. Your lips are tangled together hungrily, but he kisses you slow and sensually as he searches your lips with his own, his tongue sliding inside your mouth.

“Let me see the rest of you too,” you whisper against his mouth, your fingers dipping down to his belt buckle as you pry it open. He nods his head and aids you in taking off his pants till he’s now clad in his black briefs. He groans as you palm his erection through his briefs, feeling his dick twitch under your touch as you glide your fingers up and down its tense length. He gasps into the kiss, sensitive and responsive to your hold on his cock. You tug on the elastic of his briefs and yank them down, Marcus adjusts so you can pull them down his legs more easily. His dick springs free, dripping with pre cum and twitching with need. Your pelvis settles firmly against his, Marcus’ cock sliding between your pussy lips and nudging your clit gently. You whimper against his lips as each thrust of his hips results in the head of his dick flicking your sensitive nub. Your clit aches for more friction, needing his fingers in your pussy and for him to stroke you. You grip his wrist and bring it between your legs, urging them into your dripping core.

“You want me to touch you, cariña?” Marcus grunts into your ear, his fingers tracing your entrance. His hot breath tickles your ear and makes your pussy clench with need.

“Marcus, my clit--please, baby,” you whimper against his neck. You thrust against his fingers, attempting to force them inside you, but he avoids your advances. He finally slides his finger up through your lips and to your clit, flicking the aching, swollen bud. You gasp, throwing your head back in pleasure as Marcus strokes you. He pulls his hand away and brings it to your mouth, prying your lips open with his finger, urging you to lubricate it. You swirl your tongue around his digit, then he pulls it out and brings it back to rubbing your clit. The pleasure builds inside of you, your breath hitching with each flick of his finger. You’re getting close to the edge, desperate for Marcus to let you cum; his lips trail up and down your neck, lazily licking and nipping at the skin there. He replaces his middle finger with his thumb and continues the pace of his strokes on your clit before sliding two fingers inside of you. The fullness causing you to mewl in his ear as you begin riding his fingers. Your climax builds as your pussy clenches around his fingers that are working in and out of you, curling with each thrust inside of you. The flicks against your swollen bud, your hips rolling into his fingers, his lips on your neck...the way Marcus is working your cunt right now is pushing you close to the edge. Your toes start curling and your pussy clenches around his fingers, causing Marcus to groan at your tightness.

“That’s right, hermosa. I wanna see that pretty face when I make you cum,” he groans in his signature rasp. His hot breath sticks to your neck as the pressure inside of you builds. Shutting your eyes and moaning a slew of curses, you begin to see spots as your pelvis tingles and your cunt clenches hard around Marcus’ fingers. His fingers climb up to your scalp and he tugs your head back by your hair, pulling it away from where it was resting in the crook of his neck. You lazily part your eyes open through your climax, finding Marcus staring at you through his lustful brown eyes. His digits work you through the rest of your orgasm, relishing in the way he’s staring at you; your jaw slack, whimpering and moaning, your hands clutching his broad shoulders.

“You’re beautiful, my love,” he breathes, stroking the stray strands of hair out of your face. You smile lazily at him, panting as you come down from your climax. His dick twitches against your thigh as he pulls his fingers from your soaked pussy. He offers them to you and you part your mouth, welcoming his cum soaked digits into your mouth; sucking the evidence of your arousal from his fingers. He watches you, your lips sealed around his fingers and your eyes dark with lust. He pulls his fingers from your mouth and lightly grazes your jaw with his saliva soaked fingertips.

“I want you to fuck me, Marcus,” you tell him hungrily, still breathless from your orgasm. He nods eagerly and grips your hips, trying to position you above his cock. You resist his grasp, and he glances up at you confused.

“What’s wrong, mi amor?” he asks, his tone dripping with concern as he cradles your cheek with one of his hands.

“Nothing, I’ve just--I haven’t really...I guess I’m--,” you pause to sigh. “I’m still--technically--a virgin.” You swallow hard, unable to keep yourself from feeling embarrassed by your admission. It’s stupid to feel embarrassed, especially in front of Marcus who would never judge you for something like that. He stares at you comfortingly, not an ounce of condescension in his eyes.

“Okay, honey, let me take care of you,” he says tenderly, flipping you on your back so now he’s hovering over you. “Do you want this?” He holds you gently, wanting you as comfortable as possible and trying desperately not to pressure you into anything.

“Yes, Marcus. I want you. I trust you,” you affirm, your fingers dancing over the stubble on his cheek, desperately wanting more of him. Trust has always been hard for you. This was more than just letting him take your virginity, it was letting him into your heart completely and earnestly; it was the first time in years you’ve let someone love, touch, and look at you like this. And you wouldn’t want anyone else to be here fucking you except for Marcus. He grins at you warmly, his eyes so full of love and want.

“I love you,” Marcus says your name, planting a longing kiss on your forehead and nuzzling his cheek against your cheek.

“I love you, too, Marcus,” you say, feeling all his love for you by simply looking into his eyes. He smiles and plants kisses along your jawline and throat, nipping at the flesh. He reaches into the drawer in his bedside table and pulls out a condom. He tears open the package and rolls it onto his cock. Marcus positions himself at your entrance, your legs wrapping around his waist in anticipation.

“You okay?” he asks nervously, he seems more anxious than you even are and it’s absolutely adorable.

“Marcus, sweetheart, I’m fine,” you giggle, your hands cradling the sides of his head. “Please, I want this. I’ve wanted this for forever. Fuck me, please.” He nods, planting kisses on your forehead, and his dick prods your slick entrance. Marcus sinks the head of his cock into you and hisses at the tightness of your pussy. You mewl as he stretches you open slowly, your arms wrapping around his neck and your bare chest pressing into his. He slowly buries his length into you, his cock twitching inside of you and he revels in the tightness of your cunt. You gasp once he’s sheathed inside of you, your pussy stretched wide open for him and only him. Your clit aches for more friction, and you desperately need him to move inside of you.

“You good?” he groans through gritted teeth, his lips hovering above yours as your breaths mingles together.

“Marcus, baby, move please--fuck,” you gasp, gripping his shoulder tight. He doesn’t hesitate to begin pulling out slowly, and moving back inside your aching pussy. His thrusts are slow and gentle, trying to get you used to his length before he picks up the pace. He wants this to be as enjoyable for you as possible and he’s only able to do so by starting out painstakingly slow. After a few more slow, languid thrusts, he gauges a slightly quickened pace. You moan, locking his lips with yours, and sloppily kiss him as you begin to try and thrust against him, searching for a rhythm. Your hips rock with his, his thick cock gliding in and out of your pussy, but your clit still craves more friction.

“My clit--shit, Marcus,” you hiss against his lips. He dips one of his fingers between your bodies and begins flicking your clit gently and expertly as he continues to fuck you. You gasp and whimper into the kiss as he keeps flicking the sensitive bud in rhythm with his thrusts. You bring his lower lip between your teeth and tug it gently, Marcus groaning before locking your lips again.

“Fuck--cariña, you’re so tight--so good--for me, shit,” Marcus growls into the kiss, his thrusts keeping pace but becoming harder. You moan, the pressure on your clit becoming almost too much for you as his cock stretches you wide and fills you each time he thrusts all the way into you. “Wanted you--wanted--I’ve dreamt about fucking this tight little pussy, cariña.”

The way he speaks to you makes your body run hot, his words burning into your skin and making you flush. You moan your affirmations, wanting to urge him on to keep going.

“Baby, keep going--keep talking,” you choke out between gasps and moans. Marcus continues his pace on your clit and with his thrusts, not faltering even once as he groans in pleasure.

“I wanted to bend you over my desk and fuck the shit out of you. I--shit--wanted to eat your pussy out while you made breakfast; on my knees, my head between your thighs, licking your cunt like that’s what you were serving me,” he growls, dipping his head down briefly to lazily suck your nipple, switching between both breasts. “You--fuck--mija, you’re mine. You’re finally mine, I won’t lose you.” His hot breath tickles your breasts and he kisses his way back up to your lips locking them together again. His words were not possessive by any means, they were desperate, needing you to know how much it would hurt him if he were to lose someone else he loved the same way he lost his wife. The pressure he’s creating from the flicking of your clit partnered with his cock buried deep inside your pussy as it tickles your g-spot, becomes too much and before you know it you’re close. Your cunt clenches around his cock a few times, making Marcus groan into your mouth. You gasp and whimper, wanting to cum for him again; you want to come undone in front of him, show him just how much you’ve wanted to fuck him all these years. You roll your hips up into his, frantically searching for your orgasm as your thrusts begin to quicken and your pussy clenches around him once again.

“Marcus, I’m close,” you whimper into your sloppy kiss, clinging to his back and dragging your nails up and down the skin there.

“Cariña, cum for me. You look so sexy when you finish,” he whispers huskily against your lips, nipping at your bottom lip as he thrusts harder into you again, the slapping of skin echoing throughout the room. Your body tenses underneath him, white spots clouding your vision as your cunt clenches around his dick, milking him. Your body tingles and you spasm against his bare chest, digging your nails further into his back. Marcus thrusts into you, hissing when you clench around his throbbing cock, as he rides out his climax. His groans and whimpers growing louder as he reaches his orgasm, then promptly quieting down once he begins to come down. You pant, your chest rising and falling as you also come down from your own climax. Marcus slumps next to you, his twitching length still sheathed inside of you as your legs tangle together. He grabs your chin and tilts your head towards him to kiss you, slowly and featherlike, wanting to savor your taste. You lay like that for a moment, your sweaty chests rising and falling together as you both try to catch your breath.

“I’m so in love with you,” Marcus says your name, draping his arm over your stomach and squeezing your waist gently. “And I will show you just how much I love you every day, mi amor,” He plants a kiss on your shoulder. “I’ll never let you forget it.” He kisses up and down the length of your neck, his tongue darting out occasionally to taste you.

“You’re my hero,” you giggle, turning on your side to face him while his dick still remains buried inside of you. He rolls his eyes playfully, having heard hundreds of different women say that very phrase over the course of his career, but it strikes something inside of him when he hears you say it. “You saved me. I love you.” You snuggle into his chest and pepper kisses along the sweaty skin there.

“I’ll always be here, cariña. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll catch you when you fall, like how you catch me when I do. I would be so lost without you, mi corazon,” he says tenderly, planting a kiss to the crown of your head and wrapping his arms around you tighter. He loosens his hold on you, and pulls his half-hardened cock out of your pussy. He disposes of the condom then pulls the sheets back over your bodies, bringing you into his chest and wrapping his arms around you. Marcus plants slow, languid kisses all over your face, wanting to make you feel all the love he holds for you. Your eyes droop shut, fatigue beginning to overcome your body as you’re trapped in Marcus’ arms. But this is a place you wouldn’t want to escape, no, you feel safe here. Marcus won’t let you go, and you wouldn’t let him go either. Marcus has your heart, and there’s no one else you’d trust to keep it. He’s your hero, after all. The hero who saved you with his love.

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #afab reader #marcus moreno x afab reader #we can be heroes #pedro pascal #marcus moreno dilf #mutual pining #yearning #domestic fluff #marcus moreno takes your virginity #marcus moreno is caring af #marcus moreno marry me pls #miracle guy #godspeed by frank ocean

66 notes · View notes

kickingitwithkirk · 3 years

Text

Greetings from Austin pt. III

Pairing: Alpha!Jensen Ackles x Alpha!Jared Padalecki x Omega!OFC

Summary: Jensen and Jared are at odds over a monumental decision that changes their lives in a way they couldn’t have envisioned.

WC: 3825

Warnings: a/b/o, bisexuality, biphobia, homophobia, angst, cursing, self doubt, depression/anxiety, married life/disagreements, medical stuff, sexual dysfunction, infertility/surrogacy

*flirting, m/m oral sex, Jensen’s insecurities are coming out, Jared gets arrested, both get counseling

A/N: This part consists of several time jumps over four month period.

A/N II: Hey, sorry took me a way longer to get done than planned, rewrote Oct 23 a dozen times alone and hoping makes sense, trying to flesh out characters more and has some stuff that plays into story line in later parts.

Part II

Masterlist

@winchesterandbeyondbingo square filled-Jensen Ackles

*Series Inspired by this art.

*no beta-all mistakes are mine

September 8th

7:30 am

Jensen was sitting in the makeup chair clenching his extra strong coffee container to help warm his hands. He’d spent a second, uncomfortable night in his trailer on location as Vancouver was having an unusual cold snap this time of year and with the covid restrictions the director decided that everyone needed to stay on site.

While he wasn’t happy about the weather, missing his own personal heater but at the same time grateful for a brief break from Jared now that they were heading towards the next phase of starting their family.

Jensen jokingly said they needed a code name since they were planning on keeping their plans a secret, even from their families, until the pups were born, playfully suggesting a cartoon from their childhoods.

Of course with Jared’s weird sense of humor, he loved it and started throwing ideas like operation: pound puppies.

“Penny for your thoughts.” Frieda said as she applied a concealer under his eyes to hide the dark smudges from not sleeping well.

“Huh?”

“You asked about my new job and haven’t heard anything I’ve said, wanna talk about it?”

“Sorry, not focusing very well today.”

“Yeah, we’re all feeling out of sorts with this being the last couple days.”

Jensen couldn’t believe he was down to his last two days of filming.

“Too bad this virus messed everything up, it would’ve been a hell of a send off if everybody could have been here.”

Alex and Misha had left right after they’d finished but Jim Beaver was back for the ending. It was only right for Bobby Singer to be there at the end, having been such a pivotal character in the brothers lives.

Frieda continues chatting about random things while finishing his makeup. A PA stuck his head in calling Jensen to the set. He stepped out of the trailer and smiled seeing his Baby sitting near the building being used as the exterior of Harvelle's Roadhouse.

***

September 12th

“Jen, I’m taking out the bags,” Jared calls out seconds before the apartment's front door shut.

Jensen was doing one last check around the place for any forgotten anything. Satisfied, he walked into the living room containing neatly marked boxes ready to be shipped back to Texas, relieved they had downsized from the big house Jared had years ago.

He stopped to gaze out the picture window when a pair of strong arms wrapped around his waist, molding his back to the muscular chest of his mate, who rested his chin on his shoulder quietly saying, “I’m gonna miss this view.” Jensen hummed in agreement tipping his head back as Jared nuzzled his neck.

“We need to get going if we’re gonna make Seattle by seven,” Jared softly muttered as they’d stood there for a few heartbeats longer before releasing him. They walked to the door and Jensen turned once more to gaze out the window at the view of Vancouver.

***

September 21st

“This has been a great trip but man, I’ll be glad to be in our own bed tonight.” Jared remarks as they drive past a green highway sign saying Austin 312.

“Can’t wait,” Jensen drowsily says having not slept much the last couple days. They had decided to road trip it back to Texas, stopping at a few places they had wanted to visit for awhile.

Jared somehow managed to finagal, okay so his mind numbing blow job combined with those lethal long fingers that always makes Jensen agree to anything got him a couple extra days in southern Colorado.

Jensen enjoyed the beautiful scenery and hiking in the mountains but hated camping out. Well, it wasn’t technically roughing it the way Jared liked but still.. a frigging yurt in late September?

Oy vay, what he did for love.

The sound of Jared singing along to some classic country song on the radio as he drove finally put Jensen completely out.

***

October 23rd

Turning from the open fridge with a puzzled expression on his face, Jared senses the same vague something he’s felt God knows how many times in the last couple months.

Shutting the door he walked over to the island counter where his husband was seated pushing his unfinished dinner around on his plate.

“Jen, what’s going on? Are you worried about the implantation? Dr. Rodgers said the embryos were healthy and optimistic the surrogate took this first try.”

What Jensen wants to ask, the question that’s plagued him since that day in August choosing their Omega surrogate...how the hell does he phrase it without upsetting Jared?

“Did you choose her because you knew she’d be the one I’d pick?”

Jensen slapped his hand over his mouth, eyes wide, disbelieving he blurted it out.

Jared worked to find a response squeaking an actual squeak before he could get control over his vocals, “That’s what I’ve been sensing!” Gripping the edge of the counter with his big hands, “Are you seriously going there again? I was honest about our interactions when I realized she was the one I knocked down at the clinic and FYI, you weren’t exactly in full control either Alpha!”

Jensen clenched his teeth at being reminded his inner need to be in control at all times slipped.

“I’ve racked my brains trying to figure it out how to ask something like that without upsetting you!” Jensen yells getting up and pacing around the kitchen.

Jared huffed, “So all this time instead of talking to me, you’ve conjured up some..”

“For the last two years I’ve gotten the sense you feel somethings missing, kept telling myself it’s your unfulfilled biology. But ever since you meet that Omega you’ve been.. I can’t explain it and now I’m second guessing our marriage Ja....” his rant abruptly cut off.

Jared’s eyes were glowing red, pinning him with an eerie wolf expression, the intensity disconcerting him. “I chose you, my husband, my soulmate, my everything!“ The words should have been reassuring but Jared’s voice was pitiless, something Jensen's never heard pass from his lips before.

Jared took a deep breath and with normalcy returning said, “I love you Jensen and I thought you understood, for me, in my mind, both of us having pups with the same donor means my offspring won’t be seen as just step relations but will grow up having strong familial ties with JJ, Arrow and Zeppelin.”

Jensen started to speak when a low, reverberating growl from Jared warning him not to interrupt.

“I consciously listened to my inner wolf when it came to choosing the person who is biologically the Om of our children and I,” Jared emphasizes tapping his chest with his long index finger, ”have no regrets but apparently you do.” Taking a deep breath Jared drops a non sequitur, ”The dogs need to be fed,” and walks away.

At the sound of Jared’s SUV leaving Jensen’s legs gave out and he drops to the floor curling up in a fetal position wrapping his arms over his head. Arlo and Koda laid down, one on each side, cocooning him between them.

***

Thanksgiving

“The kids are in a tryptophan coma,” Jensen announces as he walks in through the kitchen's back door. He had followed Danneel home afterwards helping get JJ and the twins cleaned up and put to bed, “they’ll be out till Monday.”

“Good, cause I’m dead on my feet,” Jared replies yawning while loading the dishwasher. It had been their turn to host the holiday with Danneel, the kids, Clif, Jared’s siblings and their broods.

“I told you to wait and I’d help finish the cleanup when I got back.” Jensen said as Jared started the machine.

“I figured you’d wanna stay awhile and be too tired and I didn’t want to deal with it tomorrow. All that’s left is to put the trash and recycling out, could you grab it?”

“On it,” Jensen picked up the bags walking around the side of the house dropping them into their designated receptacles.

When he came back in Jared was switching off the lights downstairs. They made their way up to the bedroom taking turns in the bath getting ready for bed.

Jensen was sitting with his back against the headboard checking his messages when Jared drops heavily next to him, “I plan on sleeping for the next three days.” He mutters resting his head against Jensen’s shoulder.

“Sounds good to me babe, I’m glad we didn’t schedule anything extra this weekend, be nice to spend some time alone.” He finishes wiggling his eyebrows.

“Hmm, do you remember last year's Thanksgiving?”

Jared closed the kitchen pantries door, pushing Jensen against it seductively lowering his fox slanted eyes huskily whispering, “I’m so fucking horny I need my dick you now.”

“Dude, we’re re in my sisters...“

“..you’ll have to be quiet,” Jared dove in for a deep, dirty kiss, grinding against Jensen until he was begging to be fucked.

“You’re the one who got us busted..oh fuck Jensen..so fucking tight..fuck..not gonna last..then later I get Mac saying it sounded like your dick...”

“Okay..buuut,” Jared tilts his head slowly running his tongue up the column of Jensen’s neck, “you gotta admit,” hand slipping under his sleep shirt, “our sex life,” long fingers tip toe up the smooth, freckled chest, pads teasing his left nipple as Jared nibbles on his earlobe, ”is never boring.”

Jensen groans, dropping his arm, still clinching the phone, tipping his head to expose more of his neck to Jared’s wondrous lips, enjoying the scratch of his short beard.

“I thought you were sleeping the next three days.”

Jared answers by removing his hand and straddling his husband's thick thighs taken the phone placing it on the nightstand and starts nibbling along the other side of Jensen’s sensitive neck, working his way to his slightly raised claim mark flattening his tongue licking the ultra sensitive spot that always drives his Alpha wild.

Jensen slides his hands up Jared’s back finding a grip in his shortened hair, unhappy about how much he’s cut off for Walker, unable to tangle his thick fingers into the soft tresses like he used to.

Finding a purchase he pulls hard making Jared groan at the pleasurable sensation tips his head back till it’s the perfect angle for Jensen to run his tongue across those candy pink lips, teasing them open to grant him access, continues teasing, alternating between caressing Jared’s tongue with his and sucking on his lips.

Moaning, Jared rocks his hips seeking friction, breaks their kissing long enough to work Jensen's sleep shirt off. They end up wrestling a few moments before Jared tosses it as Jensen’s lips attack his more desperately.

Tapping Jared’s thigh, Jensen rolls them kneeling between sleep pant clad legs watching as Jared reaches up gripping the strategically placed bar in their custom made headboard with both hands, his pecs flexing in anticipation of what’s to come.

Not breaking eye contact Jensen bends forward, his lips a hair's breadth from Jared’s, slowly slides backwards hovering, caressing the acres of golden skin beneath him with only his warm breath, pausing to hook his fingers in the pants waistband and pulling them with him as he continues journeying south.

Slowly making his way back north he leaves wet, open mouth kisses along the now naked, extra long, muscular legs he loves, sucking on the insides of both thighs, nipping hard enough to leave marks before arriving at his designated stop.

He hasn’t even touched Jared’s beautiful cock yet it’s fully engorged, resting against his flat stomach vigorously leaking precome. Jensen dips his tongue into his bellybutton lapping up the liquid collecting in it, cause fuck, he’s loves how more sweet than salty Jared’s always tasted.

Hips rolling Jared rubs his cockhead against Jensen’s tongue and he kitten licks the dribbling slit before resting his head on Jared’s lower stomach and wrapping his lips around the velvety head.

Shifting his grip on the bar Jared’s makes nonsensical noises, toes curling at the mixed sensations of his mates silky beard tickling his lower regions while sucking on his cockhead, alternates swirling his tongue over the nerves underneath and teasing his slit sending spikes of pleasure radiating through him.

After all these years Jared’s still amazed at Jensen’s knowledge of his body, his ability to keep him on the edge of not enough for however long he’s in the mood to play.

“..pleease...need to cum...got to..so fucking..uhh..Alpha!”

Raising up on a forearm Jensen starts bobbing up and down his shaft, pausing briefly on each downward pass, working his throat open to take Jared further in until he’s nose deep in dark, trimmed pubic hair. Holding his mate's substantial cock in his throat swallows around him as Jared’s knot inflates, pushing his jaws apart till it’s too much.

Letting the knot slip out from between his plump lips Jensen wraps a hand firmly around it and starts vigorously bobbing drawing out a litany of obscene noises, feels Jared’s balls drawing up and backs off swallowing the warm, thick, spurting liquid.

Leisurely licking until Jared hissed, too sensitive for anymore kisses the tip one last time crawls back up the bed searching for his pillow and face plants on it.

“Dude, you’ve finally sucked out my last brain cell.”

Purring deep in his chest, Jensen gives Jared a self satisfied smirk, who mutters, “wasn’t trying to give you a bigger head.”

Rolling onto his side Jensen displays his turgid cock needing attention, “okay, he’s the bigger head,” Jared concedes reaching down running his fingers over the weeping tip, wetting them with precome spreads it over the shaft firmly fisting Jensen’s pulsing thickness, moving his hand up and down excruciatingly slowly.

“So,” his honeyed voice lowers an octave watching Jensen dissolving into a breathy mess, “how does he want me?”

Jensen opens his mouth to answer when a phone rings. Glaring over his shoulder, “not mine,” he growls. Still stroking him Jared stretches for his, “it’s the clinic..hello? Dr. Rodgers, hey, how are you sir?” He lets go sitting up against the headboard.

Why’s the doctor calling them at such an odd time, on a holiday no less?

Jared's brow wrinkles before he turns to Jensen, eyes sparkling breaks out his wondrous smile making his dimples pop.

“Jensen, she’s pregnant!”

Jared's practically bouncing on their bed like he’s on a massive sugar high discussing what comes next with the doctor. Jensen feels his erection rapidly diminishing, gets up heading into the bath and turns on the shower.

Climbing in he crosses his arms against the far wall, resting his forehead against them closing his eyes as hot water bounces across his broad shoulders.

Jensen knows he should be elated. Jared’s getting the pup (or pups) he’s desired for years and the possibility of being a father himself again. Instead, his heart seized up in conflict.

***

After that god awful argument in October he ended up at Josh’s, who confessed his mate and him were seeing a counselor because they were having marital issues too. Spending the night drinking and reflecting Jensen came home the next morning to a still angry Jared cause he didn’t know where the fuck his husband was all night.

Filling him in about his talk with Josh, Jared seemed somewhat mollified but a few nights later...

Walker star Jared Padalecki arrested near the one year anniversary of Stereotype bar altercation.

· Jared Padalecki was arrested once again in Austin, Texas, early Sunday morning on one count of public intoxication…

When he got released Jared sat Jensen down pleading with him to sit in on his next therapy session, saying they couldn’t keep going on like this, it was tearing him apart.

He wants..no..needs Jensen to completely open up, stop trying to protect him and discuss what’s going on in his head, what he’s really feeling.

Jared’s therapist started off informing both of them he wasn’t a marriage counselor but after a brief conversation with Jared knew the situation was having a detrimental impact on his mental health.

He listened to them separately, then together, about their observations and thoughts on each other’s behaviors came up with a hypothesis:

Since Jared’s last depressive episode, his random thoughts/emotions were feeding more into Jensen’s deep seated insecurities over his mate’s open, flirtatious personality and how he perceives others attraction/interactions to him.

And now Jared’s inner wolf is demonstrating an intense attraction to an Omega, something never encountered before with past preferences in Beta females, with this new dynamic Jensen didn’t know how to handle it.

Jensen opened and closed his mouth several times sputtering before saying this was complete bullshit and stormed out.

***

Lost in thought Jensen didn’t notice his husband stepping into the open shower stall until his considerable frame was blocking the water, Jared’s voice drew him out of his musings.

“I can hear you thinking clear in the other room.”

Cupped Jensen’s face between his large hands he gazed into those spring colored eyes that captured his heart the moment he looked into them years ago, “Hey, no matter what happens next, we’re good.”

***

December 16th

Jared was sitting in his chair chatting with Lindsey and Keegan while the crew was finishing setting up for the next scene when his phone rang. He didn’t recognize the number but excuses himself, stepping away for some privacy answering.

“Hey, everything okay?” Lindsay asked after he hung up, concerned by the visible tension rolling off the big Alpha.

“Umm..I don’t know, I need to make another call...” Jared said, waving the phone, “yeah, let us know if you need anything.” Keegan says and Jared nodded his thanks.

The phone rang three times, “Hey Clif, I need a favor.”

***

December 19th

Clif pulled the SUV into the parking lot, “Are you sure this is the right place?” Jared inquires looking around taking in the old motel located in a very questionable area of Austin.

“This is the name the guy mentioned.” Clif replied, getting out heading for the office. Couple minutes later he climbed back in, “the manager said the laundry out back.” He started the vehicle and drove to the rear of the property.

Clif got out again and knocked on the building's door. An older Hispanic woman answered engaging him in a brief conversation before stepping back inside.

Clif nodded to Jared and as he got out of the vehicle that piquant scent hit him seconds before the door reopened. The person he’d spent days searching for froze in the doorway upon seeing him.

***

December 22nd

Jensen, claiming out of the Uber, grabbed his bag thanking the driver, walked up the front stone pathway relieved to be home from L. A. after a hopefully final costume fitting for his new role as Soldier Boy, this flying back and forth every week for the last couple months had gotten old real quick and he was looking forward to enjoying the holidays at home.

Jared’s parents were coming tomorrow and staying for a few days as was Danneel and their pups. Josh said he was still planning on dropping by a few hours Christmas Day since he and Mac were scheduled to spend most of the holiday with their parents.

Jensen felt that mixture of anger and sadness he got thinking about his parents. He was raised in their church and though he never believed in it, respected their choice.

Too bad they couldn’t reciprocate.

***

Alan and Donna belonged to an ultra conservative church. The foundations of child rearing was to be found in the good book and in the Ackles household-spare the rod, spoil the child-was gospel.

When they were growing up neither parent was the physically or emotionally demonstrative type, only showing their offspring a reserved affection, especially in public.

The saving grace was their Beta nanny who gave them unconditional love, especially Jensen, who was shy as a child already knowing he was different from his siblings. She instilled the confidence in them to discover who they truly were inside and encouraged Jensen to come out before moving to California.

Shortly after graduating he told his family about his bisexuality and his boyfriend was moving to L.A. with him.

Alan and Donna tried to stop him. He was to go to their pastor and confess his transgressions, beg forgiveness for his sins against the church and its teachings, threatening to pull the agreed upon six month financial support while he auditioned for parts before going to college if it didn’t work out.

Jensen refused, packed up, took his boyfriend and left. He got his first break shortly after and quickly learned Hollywood didn’t care what his sexual orientation was as long as he kept it behind closed doors.

His management agency decided early on to promote Jensen as the good guy/boyfriend type. They also set him up on dates to events with many up and coming female artists of the time. He had no problem playing along when he wasn’t actually dating a woman.

His big break came on the CW. After co-starring in a couple series for the network he was offered the chance to be a lead in a new series created by Eric Kripke.

At the audition he met former Gilmore Girls heartthrob, Jared Padalecki, flashing his infectious smile, dimples for days and the most beautiful, incredible color shifting eyes Jensen’s ever seen, he was done for.

Jensen might not have his biological parents in his life anymore but his now in-laws, the complete opposite of the Ackles, helped fill that hole.

It’s easy to see where Jared’s personality comes from. His Om, Sherrie, is overly affectionate, excessively physical and verbal with everyone she considers family, biological or not.

The first time he accompanied Jared home on a holiday break Jensen was literally bowled over by the five foot nothing Omega and instantly became part of her brood.

***

Barley getting the front door open Jensen is hit with the piquant scent of orange blossoms and spices he couldn’t quite place.

Dropping his carry-on bag in the foyer he followed the scent further into the house. Arlo sat up near the large picture windows facing the backyard where he and Koda are napping and gets up coming over to greet him.

“Hey big guy, where’s daddy at?” Jensen asked rubbing around his ears like he liked having thought Jared would still be on set before the holiday break.

He heads towards the kitchen where the scent seems to be coming from, “Babe is that coffee shop back open, what’s it called, has those sweet rolls you're obsessed with..” he abruptly stopped and blinks not believing what was in front of him.

More accurately who was in front of him.

“Babe is in his office and dinner will be ready in twenty.”

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?”

***

tbc

GFA: @babypink224221 @waywardjoy @let-me-luve-you @all-4-wincest

SPN: @donnaintx @lyarr24

Sam/Jared @idreamofplaid

Dean/Jensen: @flamencodiva

#jensen ackles #jared padalecki #j2 husbands #winchesterandbeyondbingo #alpha!jensen ackles #alpha!jared padalecki #alpha!jensenxalpha!jaredxomega!ofc #j2 au #j2 fanfic #j2alphas #a/b/o ofc #spn #supernatural #slow burn

48 notes · View notes