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x-amount-verbs · 2 years

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A Helping Hand - Part 28

[start here] || Part 27 || Part 28 || Part 29

[Silco POV for 24, 25, 26, 27, if you missed them]

[awesome art of riding crop Silco from @steponmesilco icymi 👀]

[silco x f!reader] [2.6k words] [no y/n] [during timeskip] [touch-starved reader] [henchwoman!reader] [rated M] [needle and blood mentions] [tween Jinx] [gun-related PTSD]

AO3 Link

“Okay, I know I’m probably going to regret this, but… what happened with you two?”

Sevika is propped up against the wall beside where you’re poised with one of Jinx’s paintball guns, while the kid herself is tinkering with the settings of the moving targets, and drawing up new ones on the plywood that used to be a barrier to the first floor of the warehouse.

“Me and Jinx?” You may be being purposefully obtuse. “Nothing. Why?”

Her flat look isn’t fooled. “The old man.”

“He’s not that old.”

Dark brows raise, and you realize too late that she may not have been quite so aware as you thought, but that little slip up certainly helped.

“He’s at least ten years older than you,” she points out. “So I think it’s fair to call him the old man.”

“Younger than my parents would be.”

Her look seems to say that you’re missing something. It screams at you to listen to something, and you can’t tell what hidden message she’s hearing.

“That’s your criteria?” she asks incredulously. “If he’s old enough to be your father?”

“Gods, no, I just— he isn’t, okay? He’s just—”

Wide eyes and a tilted chin warn you you’d better not be saying what she thinks you’re saying. You wince.

“Nevermind.”

Sevika shakes her head. “He’s like 60,” she deadpans.

“What?! Fuck, Sevika, he’s like 42!” You should not feel this defensive over your boss’s age. Sevika’s sidelong smirk seems to agree. “Don’t be a dick,” you grumble.

Her tone is wry. “Actually, he’s 39. Feels ancient, though.”

So much for not getting defensive— “He’s barely older than you!” you argue.

“He’s the most crotchety uptight under-40 I’ve ever seen.”

From the self-satisfied curve of her lips, even if she’s not looking at you, you suspect she may be purposefully bashing him just to get under your skin. Which shouldn’t work. Cause he isn’t anything important to you.

“I swear he keeps like 15 extra years in a pocket dimension,” she drawls.

You scoff a laugh before you can stop yourself. It’s pretty funny.

“Regardless, sure hope you get a handle on this weird crush you have-”

“Not a crush.” Wow, never thought you’d have to have a convo like this. “Definitely not a crush.”

“Yeah, fuckin’ hope so, cause that’s a disaster waiting to happen.”

“—Which is why it isn’t.”

“That’s why?”

What? Wait— “No, it’s— that’s not why, that’s not what I—”

Sevika’s sarcastic mmmhm at your gradual descent to flustered-ness has your ears burning.

“How old is your girlfriend?” you shoot back, going on the offensive.

Her lips press tight for a second, gaze averting. “Don’t have a girlfriend-”

“Your friend, then. The one at Babette’s?” You’ve picked up on a few things through gossip at the Drop.

Grey eyes stay resolutely turned away, but you can feel her sudden rigidity. Ha. Not so nice to be hounded on your insecurities, huh?

“She’s irrelevant.”

“What, like 19?”

“No.” The force with which she refutes your purposefully low guess is insistent. “No, she’s— I don’t know, 24. 25 maybe.”

You snort. “Yeah, and you’re one to talk age gaps.”

“Not the same, we don’t have a employer-”

“You better not be about to say you and your sex worker girlfriend never had a relationship where you paid her.”

You actually see a rosy cast to her cheeks. Good. About time she got flustered instead of you.

“Our relationship is— it’s not exactly…” It’s Sevika’s turn to flounder. “It’s complicated,” she growls, finally.

“Well. Same.”

“Which is much much worse for you than for me.”

She’s objectively correct. “Look, Silco and I don’t have anything like that. We never did.” It’s basically true, right? So he fingerbanged you bent over his desk after thoroughly spanking you with a crop. And a cane. And even his hand a couple times.

That’s… um. That’s… not the same as sex.

Fuck.

“Riiight. So he kicked people out of the Drop a couple days ago because…?”

“He what?”

She blinks surprise. “You seriously didn’t know? People were theorizing. You went up to his office drunk one night, a body got carried out, people thought he killed you then, but the next day you show up and he immediately clears the bar. I’ll be honest, there were bets you’d leave without the hand, if not the arm, and a decent number of people thinking you wouldn’t survive the week. Yet next day he calls me in to say you’re cleared to see Jinx again, which is definitely not what I expected to hear.”

It’s your turn to stare like an idiot. Silco was the one who gave the okay? Well, maybe you should’ve guessed it, but still. It doesn’t make sense, remembering how completely cold he’d been that afternoon.

“So I repeat: what happened between you two? He’s been quiet and it’s creepy. Half the time can’t get him to shut up.”

Nope. Stop it, heart, this isn’t good news, stop beating like there’s hope here. It’s nothing. He’s just… he’s pouting. Or he’s coming to his senses. Or, hopefully, he’s reinstating helpful boundaries, and this is his way of showing it.

Stop, stop the stupid skipping a beat, this means nothing. It means respect, at best, and that should be a bare minimum, not an exciting prospect.

No matter how much you chastise your heart, it’s still fluttering. Like a fucking dumbass.

“I— I just— talked to him. Brought up some frustrations.” That’s close enough. “I didn’t think he’d listen to me.”

“Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t. For all I know this is some elaborate plot; he’s a petty bitch when he wants to be.”

Oh, mood.

Your name is screeched across the length of the shooting gallery, effectively ending the conversation. “It’s working!” Jinx shouts, grinning and waving her spanner in the air as she slams a fist against the button that runs the motor for the moving targets.

It takes you too many tries to get your aim steady.

—

“You’re being weird.” Jinx kicks her feet against the empty barrel she sits on, licking her fingers with a kebab in the other (paint-stained) hand.

“Am I?” You’ve been settling into the routine surprisingly well, you thought. It’s nice having her back. Feet slotted with hers from your perch opposite, the casual proximity feeding that bottomless pit in you that craves closeness. “How so?”

“I dunno,” she shrugs, pulling a chunk of meat along the skewer until she can bite it off the end. “You an’ Sevika argued earlier and then your aim was shit— sorry. But it’s true.”

“Please consider that I’m operating with a fake hand,” you point out, holding out your prosthesis pointedly. “Remember that part? Big bloody accident, got maimed, replacement hand, all that?”

Jinx snorts. “Yeah but you did better before. I beat you every single round this time.”

“Have you considered that maybe you’re just really good?” you ask, brows raised. “Like really good, Jinx, you would beat me in my prime.” At least, with paintballs. Thank gods she isn’t shooting live rounds yet— both for the risk to your reputation in the local standings, and for other reasons. Three times since you started working with her in the warehouse you’ve spotted her shooting rats with her paint gun. Nothing lethal as of yet, but it can be a little worrying.

“Yeah yeah,” Jinx rolls her eyes, though there’s a self-satisfied smile on her face. “But you’re usually tougher to beat. What did you an’ Sevika argue about?”

You snort. She’s not wrong. Not entirely, anyway. “We weren’t arguing, just talking.”

Jinx’s brows furrow, face falling into a small frown.

“Honest,” you promise. “Not the kind of arguing that matters, anyway. Still friends.”

She pulls a face. “Shouldn’t be.”

Bemused, you raise a brow at the kid, but take another long swig of water before speaking (no food eight hours before meeting with Singed, meaning post-training lunch was your last chance, two hours ago). “Shouldn’t be friends with Sevika?” After making an effort to thaw her chilly exterior? “Why not?”

“She hates me.” Jinx’s lips twist, color high on her cheeks. Angry? Embarrassed, maybe? Or ashamed. Some combo of all three, perhaps. “Hates being stuck with me. Hates me for— just hates me,” she mutters bitterly.

“I find that hard to-”

“It’s cause her arm,” the kid interrupts, before her mouth snaps shut. Her kicking has stopped.

You try to add up the clues you’ve gotten, but they aren’t quite making sense. Scooting forward, you knock your knees against hers, trying to offer some kind of proof that you’re staying close. And maybe partly cause her sudden mood change worries you. Any time she seems upset you’re worried. There’s a bond there, between the two of you, some kind of recognition that resonates feelings, reflects them back, and her anxiety makes you anxious. Just like her joy makes you joyful.

“Hey,” you nudge her foot, pointedly. “If you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to. But you’re still my friend, okay? I’m not picking her over you.” You barely refrain from pointing out that you can have multiple friends. Something tells you Jinx doesn’t want to hear that, not in this moment.

The worry in her brief too-open gaze sends a pang through your chest. “I’m your best friend, though, right?” she asks.

Shit. It feels about accurate to that age, at least. Always needing to know you mattered to someone, that you had social standing. Not an insecurity you’d expect from Jinx, but maybe she just never felt threatened before. You were her captive friend.

Maybe you shouldn’t validate that kind of thinking, but— “Uh huh.” Her visible relief encourages you; you hold out a crooked finger. “Best friends.”

Jinx grins as she hooks her finger with yours. “Fuck yeah.”

“Fuck yeah,” you repeat, like an oath. “Now, if I’m not mistaken, I think you insulted my aim.” You hop off your perch, smacking the bottom of her foot with your canteen. “Finish eating so I can beat you fair and square.”

“Psh, yeah right.”

—

The euphoria of having Jinx so close - the sheer joy you get from having her cling and climb and wrap arms around you - is tempered every other night by your painfully detached meetings with the Doctor.

A day of shooting with Jinx, followed by an evening nap, and then being drained of blood and told your progress is uninspiring but acceptable. Glowing praise, truly.

A day spent dragging Jinx along to training and letting her thoroughly pummel you just as often as you sent her gleefully screeching form soaring into plushly padded crash mats. A long shower, watching the faint shadow of marks from your day with Silco fading, and early bedtime.

A day of Jinx excitedly showing off her prototype for the Poppet gun, an evening spent icing your sore limbs, and a night of blood loss and five total sentences of communication, one of which was ‘stay still.’

A day letting Jinx pick out a buffet of food options on Silco’s dime. (In other words: a mistake.)

A day spent indulging in combing and braiding Jinx’s hair as she read out her history homework, an evening spent sitting in bed slowly braiding your own hair to match - trying not to think about the glove on your hand, and utterly failing - only to have that effort completely ignored by the Doctor in favor of once again taking blood and barely speaking.

You pass out after that one— or at least white out for a few minutes before waking, spluttering, to a face full of cold water.

“Why are you unconscious? Bloodwork shows nothing out of the ordinary.”

“How the fuck should I know,” you growl, wringing out your braided hair. “Maybe it’s all that fucking bloodwork you’re so keen on.” After every unproductive meeting, wobbling home dizzy, grimacing against the roll of the ground as you walked.

Singed frowns. “How else am I to know you’re correctly maintaining your prosthesis and metabolizing the hydraulic bleed?”

“I don’t know— however you did it the last two weeks?” Your voice is biting, lips pressed thin as you turn away, attempting to regain control of your temper. At this point, you’d rather just go back to Silco.

—The thought hurts more than you expect. A twisting pain in your chest, talons dug into your esophagus and tugging.

The Doctor still has that same frown. “I’ll determine an alternative.”

“Can’t you just take my word for it?” It’s so tiring to be doubted so much, you never realized before. “I have no reason to lie to you.”

His loose gesture is dismissive. “Find yourself food. Our next meeting I’ll have an alternate method.”

—

Things don’t go entirely to plan.

The food part does, at least. On the way home, stopping in at a market halfway between the Doctor’s lab and your lodging house, stuffing yourself on a couple top-notch hand pies and taking a couple more for the road.

But leaving the market you feel the tug on your waist that signals interference (just one of the reasons you only keep part of your coin on your belt), and grab for the wrist automatically with your prosthesis.

Maybe if you could feel what you were doing you would’ve been able to get it right. As it is, you instead feel the scrape of the blade across your arm by the vibrations on your stump beneath.

It all happens so fast.

Feeling the thief snatching for your money, grabbing for their hand, a quarter turned as you feel the blade, and halfway turned as your good hand moves to your pistol.

Finding a gun in your face is unexpected.

Your brain freezes.

Instinct, entirely instinct, takes over as you disconnect.

The next thing you know the shot is ringing in your ears, blood spattering your boots. You stare, unseeing, at the man staggered to the floor, blood leaking from the bullet hole in his shoe, one hand clutching his knee for stability, the other still on the gun.

Another shot hits his shoulder and the scream cuts through.

You stop yourself from aiming for the head. He’ll need to be questioned, have to know who hired him, who thought it was smart to bring a gun into—

A blink, and you’re back in reality, gun cocked at the kid whose hands have raised in panicked surrender.

Some distant part of you feels sick. Heart racing, dizzy, but floating unmoored from your surroundings. It feels like you’re on uneven ground, hovering, or bobbing in the Pilt.

When you have no words to say, the kid turns tail and runs.

You’re not proud of it. You aren’t. It’s habit, or fear, or some confusion between memory and reality. That gun was in your face and you can’t get it out of your head—

You shoot him.

Immediate regret turns your stomach. Your hand buzzes from the recoil, staring unblinking at the kid— fuck, he’s got to be no older than Efin, a teenager, just some kid trying to make a fast buck lifting purses in a crowded market. And now he’s on the ground, wailing, sobbing and clutching his leg, the bloody mess of a wound to his ankle. If he has a lookout, they aren’t rushing to his aid.

His gun is forgotten, and as glassy eyes drift to it, an icy chill seeps into your bones. A fake. It’s so obviously a fake. Of course it is; a kid like him couldn’t get his hands on a real gun, even on the infinitesimal chance he could afford one. A paintball gun painted to look like the real thing, meant to scare people into complying, not to kill them.

Your brain is dead, low static, feeling the feelings but unable to think in words.

There’s noise around you, but you can’t process it, can’t make meaning from the sounds.

You turn on your heel and walk away, already feeling the tremors start.

—

[next part]

[Ooof. Sorry for the wait guys >< Life, as it often does, has been getting in the way and my brain has been stalling out like crazy lately. I’m not quite done with 31, but I figure I can make y’all stop waiting before I hit the two week mark. Might be another wait, if I can’t get my brain to crank into gear, but at least I have a couple more chapters in reserve for just this sort of thing 😅 At the very least I’ll end up posting around the 15-16th because I’m going out of town and I always like to have that pick-me-up whenever I’m done being stuck driving or flying or on a train or whatever it is. Hopefully brain works before then, but at the latest we’ve got that to look forward to!

Anxiety and depression have been kicking my ass lately, so I can’t promise replies to every single comment right away, but I do always love to see comments and tags and reactions regardless 🥹 Standard plugs apply; reblog if you liked it, check it on ao3, check the revPOVs both here and ao3 if you missed them (I don’t think detachment is up on ao3 yet, but that will probably go up next week). If you want to be tagged in future posts, comment on this linked post to get added to the tag list.

Thanks everyone so much for sticking around. I love the love you all give me, love the support from this super loving bunch of fanatics in this mad corner of the internet. ❤️ -verbs]

Tag list: @hawk4president @mello-jello29 @jennrosefx @dad-dumpster @ellhd-imagination @zuckerwattencupcake @meep-moop-mystic @sherwood-forests @ariaud @witxhy-lexx @mazikomo @leave-me-alone-doctor @antoine-tte @wisteria-songs @imalovernotahater @eriseffigy @leorioaki @artificialwords @hehicular-hanslaughter-lecter @ironandglass @ughhhh177 @faraige @ilikemymendarkandfictional @jennithejester @insult-2-injury @iz-zy5 @rinadragomir @queenofspades6 @cuddlejeongin @differentladynerd @alternativeforensicscientist @leo-the-undead @silcoitus @stepsonsilco @commotionpotion @averagecrastinator @eurydicethesage @mialobo @wierdestmoppet @bumble-bee-17 @sonicbananawithbowtie

#silco x reader #silco x f!reader #silco/reader #silco #silco arcane #silcoxreader #wip:a helping hand #a helping hand #x-amount-writes #arcane x reader

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cerastes · 11 months

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I disagree with your cold steel take, one was annoying and two has been worse, I put it down after the Pantagruel and haven't returned. Rean is my least favorite protagonist in the series so far and it's not close, and the supporting cast can only do so much with the way the relationship system forces it all to warp around his dick. I can't imagine three *not* being better.

You’re fine, we’re cool.

Now, for the record, my first Falcom game was Cold Steel 1, and I really loved the vibe. They take a stab at having a very large cast, and though they fall in some regards (Gaius has like maybe 2 strings of personality that he hangs onto and all of his screentime is “that’s cool guys :)”), I feel it did a good job overall in making a story fundamentally based about a class of good eggs slowly realize they are fighting for the objectively really bad bad guys… But also, that the upper brass is really the root of this, and that while many awful peole exist in Erebonia, you also have a lot of good people. This, of course, is in the background initially, what we’re looking at first is the class growing as individuals. I like the first two games specifically because Rean isn’t the center of the universe, he’s merely the main character.

As the main character, he’s allowed to get special attention, and thankfully, he’s played as a pretty funny backwater kinda dude that’s just a good egg. Rean’s likable. I won’t say he’s the sort of character that wowed me, in fact, I believe he’s the weakest of the protagonists, because Estelle and Lloyd are legitimately fantastic characters that DID wow me in such a way, but Rean still works as a result of his cast, he fits it and compliments the wide array of personalities with fun interactions and good chemistry. In 1 and 2, Rean is the center of the class, on an equal level with the rest of his friends.

And here’s where my gripes begin with 3, where Rean becomes the center of the universe instead. All the fun parts of Rean disappear, despite the game desperately telling up that no, you guys, he’s still the same ol’ goober! Except, all of his dialogue just sort of becomes generic “yeah let’s go guys haha you are doing great” sagely anti-banter and “haha please stop trying to jump my bones” because apparently every character in the story was lobotomized between 2 and 3 to only want to praise Rean 24/7 forever. And it’s a shame, because not only does this ruin characters we already knew, it also slaps characters we were just introduced to: Juna is legitimately so cool, Altina is very very fun and interesting, and so on. I wish I could’ve had them exist on their own without every instance of dialogue ending in “oh btw sensei is really cool (but don’t tell him I said that! Hmph!”). The only real new character I hated was Musse, precisely because her entire whole thing forever in every scene except one was “I want to have sex with Rean”.

I get that you’re focusing on the story, anon, but even a generic story, in my opinion, can be carried by a strong cast. On the flipside, even a strong story (and I like CS’ story) can be very very hard to get through if the cast of characters through which you live the story cannot stop getting on your nerves. I feel like 1 and 2 have a sufficiently fine story and a great cast. 3 had an interesting story with a cast I want to forget about.

As an aside, my top favorite JRPGs are Trails to Zero and Trails to Azure. Lloyd and the SSS gang are, bar none, my ideal cast in any game. That’s the cast I would like to have in a story of my own.

#long post

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just-an-enby-lemon · 1 year

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since you're talking about One Bad Day can I share what imo is the most upsetting part in it?

it's the way the narrative treats Edward's father as being right in the end. sure his abuse is shown as bad at first, but then the comic tries to make you sympathise with him as that sad old man that just wanted his child to reach its true potential but instead was burdened with a son that was just a naturally evil monster. By making Edward brutally kill the teacher as a kid without showing any emotion or upset the comic makes it seem like he simply always was an inherently evil coldhearted killer and that he can't be helped by people (like that teacher) being nice to him because eventually he will just kill them on a whim anyways like he did his mother and that the beatings he got from his father and later Batman ultimately were deserved and justified because of that. even worse the narrative makes it seem like the story's world would have been a better place if his suicide attempt as a kid had been successful which is just an awful writing choice

what do you think is the worst part of that comic?

I agree absolutly.

It would have been soo easy to make so Edward actually had an emotional reaction after mudering the teacher (who doesn't matter how much the comic wants to convince me was not nice and instead was just one of thoses guys who watched Dead Poets Society and thinks he is being a great protagonist without really care for his students). Enought to show that he wasn't a cold muderer that it was a trauma reaction and the start of a psychotic break. But no they wanted to make "the abuser was right" into a plot twist and that is disgusting.

Now about the worst part I have multiple answers. On a more general way the worst part was how empty it felt (at least for me). Normally even stories I don't like produce an emotional reaction on me. Even if it is a mix of anger and laughter for the sheer absurdity like in ASBAR. But in this comic I mostly felt nothing.

Awfull things happened with characthers I normally care a lot and all I could feel was "wow that's a pretty artstyle". The characthers felt not only alienated from their original form but also just devoid of anything that made them fell like people instead of drawingns. The were in total two moments that actully got an emotional reaction from me: the woman having an emotional reaction over Batman and Gotham treating her husband death as part of a scripted routine and Edward begging his dad for a punishment in an empty room.

The first one was generic enought that could be in any comic and gather the same response. Actually if Riddler was Joker on that scenario the scene would make more sense and just be better on general. The second is the one that really makes me realize how empty it is because I felt bad but I would feel like it could be any characther. That what I felt there was the pain of a traumatized abused characther and it being Edward -a characther that usualy is a confort characther and I hyperfixate over- added nothing to my feelings over that scene. I would feel the same if it was an OC or even a characther I normaly don't like. Being Edward added nothing to it. And that says a lot.

For instance the scene of Eddie being beaten by cops on Unburied and Barbara being forced to watch is the type of violence that would hurt me no matrer the characthers but the fact it is this characthers and I feel for them and care for them adds more significante, it makes me care more for it. Just like Arkham Riddler calling Batman Dad during their final fight in Arkham Knight is devastating on general but specially because it is Riddler. Or my favorite Hush scene of Batman proudly describing Dick on his thoughs while being sorta dismisive of him when actually talking to him is something that I would enjoy with any other characthers (like Ollie and Roy) but it being Dick and Bruce and feeling like Dick and Bruce turned in my favorite moment. But One Bad Day doesn't have it.

By the end Bruce broke his code and Edward is dead and I feelt nothing for either because they are just drawings and whatever happens to them doesn't really matter at all.

On a more specific answer it would be between the revel of Edward being somehow behind Barbara attack during The Killing Joke (because of course Tom King can't let Barbara live), the tale trying to sell that it's Edward's fault for not just listening to his teacher and going to play games and chill (because that would surely solve the abuse and cure the depression obviously/irony) or the sheer edgines of everyone just being so scared of Riddler that they basically kill themselves when the comic never shows were this fear came from, if they revelead that Edward was just gassing everyone with Crane's fear toxin it would actually make more sense. Tom King wants us to believe Riddler is a dangerous scary non-parody version of Patrick Bateman simply because he said so, we never truly see Edward masterminding and proving that Riddler is actually a serius treat. He just says he is and just like Aladin saying he is a prince with confidence people just believe him. All we see as proof after that is other people saying "wow riddler is scary" and "he is such a serius treat" and the whole cops just killing each other based on nothing while Eddie laughs on the floor in deep edgyness. It means nothing. Just like everything in this comic. Really reading it was such an empty experience and it was soo frustrating because between the angsty, the art style and just the fluidity of Ed's bailarina like moviments during the basketball scene I really wanted to like it.

Not my least favorite thing but another pet pieve is that the flasbacks feel disconected. They don't work either as Edward remembering the past as he is never a vocal part of the comic or as Batman figuring the past out as he only discovers Edward's mother was prostitute he killed and his dad was an old guy he only knows based on a single conversation. The past and the present are more like two different disconected stories and not a single unified comic.

#one bad day #riddler one bad day #the comic was so bad that made me never read the rest of the series #wich is sad because the whole series art is soo pretty #is a waste of artistic potential only comparable to asbar #asbar is waaay worse ofc but at least it isn't bland #edward tierney #riddler

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handoferis · 2 years

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when i met my sister in law i was thinking wow you can just. be any kind of person huh. and it's like fine. she lives in her moms basement that a gay crackhead fixed up for her. like the light switches were all fucked, the ones in the living room turned on the lights in the kitchen, down the hallway. im not trying to be a dick im just painting a picture. ummm its the same dude that ODed and died in a friends bathroom while her kids were home. oh and that friend was the same chick they used to call Big Ange until she started using meth and was no longer Big. ummm anyway yeah you can be weird and loud and drugged up as fuck and even though ppl might get annoyed its not like god will descend upon ye and be like "girl can u not?" like no one stops you. so that realization made me pretty fuckin dumb and unhinged for a couple years but i think it was a necessary cringey stage as part of my development. my mom was violently overprotective of me as a kid so i just stayed inside and got groomed online. i think it was important for me to fuck around in the real world and realize just how much none of this shit matters and that life is what you make of it

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sidewalk-scrawls · 2 years

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i actually couldn't decide which prompt to choose, i was torn between some of them. if you'd prefer to write for “you deserve to be taken care of.” or “you look like you could use a hug.”, please take this as a modification of the request. i don't know if this helps or complicates things more lol!

| original ask: “take as long as you need to. ” izzy x lucius 👀

I wasn't having much luck getting the voices to land in your initial request, so thanks for sending along these other options! I might still write your first ask up later (I do have a premise for it!), but both of these options definitely felt easier to me. So here we go... “you deserve to be taken care of" featuring Izzy x Lucius =) (Also feel free to send an ask if you enjoyed it! I’d love to know that you saw it)

---

Lucius didn’t take his role as the Revenge’s social glue lightly, so when Izzy returned to the ship after a raid and slipped below decks, not even stopping to claim anything, well, Lucius immediately decided to follow him.

The door to Izzy’s room was already shut, so he raised his hand to knock before pausing, first clenched in midair. Did he really want to start a talk with Izzy of all people? Before he’d even finished the thought, he knocked anyway.

“Go away,” Izzy grumbled.

“I just wanted to check and see if you wanted anything from the raid! You disappeared so quickly.”

“Fuck off, Spriggs.”

“Okay, I’m coming in!” Lucius said, brightly. It wasn’t like he was going to get an invitation. He gave Izzy a second, relishing the muffled cursing that came through the door, and then threw open the door. He gave a cheerful, “Hello!” before he glanced around the room and his eyes caught up with his mouth.

Izzy was sitting on his cot, shirtless, hand pressed to a piece of cloth over his stomach, and he did not… look great. His skin looked pallid and flat, a thin sheen of sweat across his brow.

“Are you… alright?”

“I’m fine,” Izzy growled. “Can you just get out?”

Lucius glanced down at the hand on Izzy’s stomach. “Are you injured?”

“Wow, so even the whimsical Spriggs can notice things!” Izzy says, rolling his eyes. “I thought you were too busy playing make believe to notice anything.”

Well. Izzy would have to try a bit harder than that if he wanted to get under Lucius’s skin. “I really am whimsical, aren’t I?” Lucius said, giving Izzy a mocking bow. “But also, don’t be a dick. I just wanted to check that you were alright.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re clearly not. Let me help.”

“Fuck off.”

“Izzy.”

They sat in a silent battle of the wills, Lucius waiting for the crack in Izzy’s face when he realized Lucius had no intention to leave. He was pretty sure Izzy was trying the same game, but Lucius was pretty confident that he could win this one.

And then.

“It’s really not that bad,” Izzy sighed. “They barely even got me, someone just caught me across the stomach when I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Let me see,” Lucius said.

“Oh yeah, like the scribe is better at triaging a wound than I am.”

“Let me see,” Lucius repeated.

“Fine,” Izzy spat, pulling away the cloth that he had pressed over his stomach.

Oh, that was. A lot of blood. No wonder Izzy looked pale. Lucius stepped closer to the cot and dropped to the floor to take a closer look. Izzy was right, it didn’t look particularly deep, a shallow gash that stretched from the left side of his ribs down to a spot above his right hip. It was a long gash, though, one that required pressure to prevent too much blood loss, but not one that was likely to cause anything deadly as long as it was kept clean and covered. Speaking of…

“Have you cleaned it yet?”

“Does it look like I cleaned it yet?” Izzy spat.

“Okay,” Lucius said, “let me help.” He glanced around the room, looking for some alcohol he could use as disinfectant.

“I don’t need your help.”

“Maybe not,” Lucius said, “but you deserve it. You deserve to be taken care of.”

Lucius didn’t notice the heavy silence that had fallen over the room at his words, not until he grabbed a bottle of alcohol from Izzy’s desk, and turned around to see Izzy, nearly frozen where he sat on the cot. He was working his lips, clearly searching for something to say.

And well, Lucius was many things, but he was not impatient -- He could wait.

As the silence lengthened, Izzy eventually spoke. “What do you mean I deserve it?”

Lucius raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Why would I deserve your help?”

“You’re part of this crew, aren’t you?”

“I’m part of Blackbeard’s crew.”

“We both know that there hasn’t been a difference between the crews in a while.”

“Speak for yourself.”

“So what… you snuck down here, so you could lick your injuries like some kind of cat, and then hide your injuries from the crew? Why?”

“Injuries are a weakness, Spriggs,” said Izzy, and wow, that was more honest of an answer than Lucius was expecting. And from the look on Izzy’s face, it was more honest of an answer than he had planned to give. “Don’t tell the crew about this.”

Lucius nodded. “I won’t,” he stepped closer to Izzy, taking the cloth that he still had clenched in his fist. He knelt down next to him, so that he could start wiping away the blood. He also poured a generous amount of alcohol over the wound -- It had to burn, but Izzy barely reacted, sitting frozen under his touch.

“You know,” Lucius said, “if you told the rest of the crew, they wouldn’t like… use your injury against you or anything. They’d just be concerned for you.”

“The fuck they would. The crew hates me.”

“No, we don’t!” Lucius paused as Izzy gave him a disbelieving look. “Okay, maybe we hate you a little,” he amended. “But we don’t hate, hate you. We haven’t tried to kill you recently, have we? Not since Stede has been back!”

That actually got a small chuckle out of Izzy. Lucius marveled at the sound of it -- He didn’t think he’d ever heard Izzy laugh in a way that wasn’t bitter.

“Okay, Spriggs, I’ll give you that one.”

Izzy’s face was more open than Lucius had ever seen it, and he would swear Izzy was leaning into his touch as he cleaned his wound. Maybe the burn of alcohol wasn’t so bad after all? Or maybe that was just the point.

“How did you even get hurt anyway?” Lucius asked. “You’re the best sword fighter of all of us.”

“It’s this stupid toe,” Izzy said, voice softer than Lucius had expected. “Still off-balance since it happened. And the sudden pain there, it’s almost like the pain of losing it all again.”

“I get that,” Lucius said. “My finger still hurts like that sometimes.”

Izzy looked surprised by that admission, but then he hummed in acknowledgment, waiting for Lucius to finish cleaning his wound. Lucius was almost sorry to pull away the cloth.

“Okay,” Lucius said. “Bandage next.”

This process was quicker -- Lucius just needed to wind the cloth tight around Izzy’s midsection, and then tie it tight. Izzy could’ve done it himself, of course, but it was easier with Lucius’s help. It was still pretty difficult for Lucius to understand why Izzy was so intent on refusing to ask for help -- Sure, Izzy had said he didn’t want anyone to be aware of a weakness, but not even Fang? Not even Ivan? He was pretty sure Izzy would trust Ed with knowledge of his injury, but then, Izzy probably considered that request an imposition. How does someone make it so long on a crew where they refused to rely on anyone? Lucius supposed that was a question for another day.

When the bandage was secured, Lucius gave another glance to Izzy’s face. His expression was still surprisingly open, and well, maybe it was worth seeing if that tenderness could extend past injury. So Lucius decided to risk it.

He reached a careful hand across to Izzy’s, settling his fingers against the bones of Izzy’s wrist. For a moment, Izzy stiffened, but then he exhaled and relaxed into the touch. Lucius rubbed his thumb in gentle circles over Izzy’s inner wrist.

“Listen,” Lucius said. “If you want, I could… stay for a bit.”

There was a moment where Izzy seemed to consider it. Like this was a thing that he wanted to pursue. And looking at Izzy’s face, well… Lucius was intrigued that he could inspire this response in Izzy just through gentle touches. Touches to his hands, no less. He wondered what other touches would be like. He wanted to pull Izzy toward him, to let Izzy rest his head on his chest. He wanted to run his fingers through his hair and to kiss the hollow of his throat.

But before Izzy could answer, a call echoed through the ship. “Izzy, I need your help with this!” Blackbeard called.

Izzy’s expression changed immediately, locking into place. He pulled on his shirt in a way that Lucius thought had to pull at his stomach, and within seconds, he was at the door. “Don’t tell anyone about this,” he said, glancing back at Lucius with hardened eyes. But then, for a moment, his expression changed. “But thank you.”

Before Lucius could decide what to answer, Izzy had spun around and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

#this is longer than i intended so i'm putting most of it under a read more lol #honestly this is long enough that i might also post it on ao3 if people like it #(maybe with another round of light editing)#i don't normally post prompts but this is literally 1500 words LOL #ANYWAY this is why it took me awhile to answer this ask #i also find these voices kinda challenging to write in so it's been fun to mess around with them!#going to have to write more ofmd fic clearly #ofmd #ask #fic prompts

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the-soliloquies-of-sadists · 2 years

Text

#292

“Hey You’re still hanging around…. Heh heh. I thought you would have tried to escape again. I guess you’ve realized that your one-year commitment to me really meant you are not allowed to leave. That, or, the fact that your shock collar, roped to the pulley in the rafters, offers you two options: hanging yourself or keeping you on your tippy toes, neither of which grants your freedom....

“I see you chose straining your toes. Wise choice. Now I must do some work around back, and I need for you not to go anywhere, let alone try to escape, again. I brought you a riser for you to stand on. It will relieve toe strain and offer slack to the collar. Breathing should be a lot easier.

“Go ahead and step on that…. See! I can be merciful. Now turn around and face outward. I bet it’s nicer to be on my wrap around porch instead of the kennel. Agree? No, don’t speak. I don’t need to hear that voice. Of course it is. It’s a bit warm though, in the low 90’s. Who am I kidding? it’s hot.

“Many years ago, I used to house parties that would go on for days. When the men would arrive they would see six or so naked pieces of property lined up like you are now. They would be evenly spaced, standing on risers so that their useless skin flaps between their legs would rest on the banister. The heat would make their sacs stretch out. I had shock collars on them all. Back then I had it set up so that if one got shocked they all got zapped. To keep that skin flap from retracting I used to nail a dozen or so nails through their ball sack. I used nails made out of surgical steel and all.

“They were standing there in that same position you are all day and into the night. I remember the partiers inflicting so much torment on them. Once had a line of men going out to fuck them.

“You know, I still have those surgical steel nails. Would you like to see? In fact I brought them with me. See how long they are?

“I haven’t done this in years. I haven’t had the need to. I no longer have a harem. They are just too much to manage. One piece of property is all I need. Until you, none have tried to escape.

“Looking at that banister’s wood. It seems a bit weathered. There’s several splinters. Hold on. Don’t go anywhere. Heh heh.

…

“Ok I have this gel here that works on wood that will help deal with splinters coming loose. It comes in a small tube, but this shit works wonders on so many things. Now you can focus on my task at hand.

“I have a couple of C-clamps to hold your scrotum in place. When I did this years before, I had my handler pulling so I can nail it down. It’s just you and me. And your hands are locked behind you.

“Here goes. With this heat, your balls are hanging low. So is your foreskin. Your sac stretches out pretty good. Feel that gel? It’s nice and cool, isn’t it? It’s a bit tacky, which will help prevent your sac from moving around too much. A quick clamp here,… and one here. Extra tight, because why not?

“Damn, even soft your shaft is a thing of beauty. Let’s get your dick hard. Here let me give you a hand. Have I ever jerked you off? I don’t think so. Well, there’s a first time for everything. Ohhh, you are enjoying this. Yes you are. This is one meaty dick. It’s completely wasted on shithead like you.

“I remember when I was interviewing you, you said you hated having a big dick and that everyone wanted you to use it on them. You asked for me to treat you as if it was two inches long. I did that for all this time. Now I want to see the beer can of a dick cum. I want to watch your balls constrict as they lie helpless in your clamped-down and stretched-out sac.

“You are very hard. If you cum for me in the next ten seconds, I won’t nail your balls….

“Oh shit, you really are ready. Ten,… nine,… eight,… seven,… go for it! Six,… five,… Goddamn! Fuck. Your balls! Wow. That was some load.

“And true to my word, you are not going to get nailed. In fact, let me unclip you from the pully system attached to your shock collar. And always remember that shock collar is active. There’s also a tracking mechanism in it as well. So running away would be pointless. Your hands will need to remain cuffed for a bit longer though.

“Now I want you to reflect on your failed attempt at escaping. Look out at the woods and my property that goes out for at least a mile. You fucked up.

“When you first approached me, you begged to serve me. I said that I require a long time commitment at least a year. A week later you again begged me to serve me. I demanded a year of obedience and subservience. You agreed to it. But now you have broken it. I only have one thing I can do in this situation. Your year restarts today. I know you had about four and a half months left, but all this changes because you were thinking only of yourself.

“As I remove the C-clamps from your sac, I want you to reflect on your situation. When you are ready, I want you to come to me and apologize in the humblest way you can think of. And it better be authentic and good.

“It has been about five minutes or so since I clamped your balls to this banister. The super glue should have mostly set by now. I did apply liberally to the wood. Your ball sac is quite large. The bond should be unbelievably tight.

“So, reflect on your foolish, stupid, and selfish choice to run away, and the predicament you are in because of it. When you are ready, I will be around back to hear your apology. Take all the time you need.”

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favefandomimagines · 3 years

Text

Fools Gold (r.c.)

Summary: how much are you worth to rafe and his friends?

AN: sorry the new obx pics that were posted inspired me to write an angsty af rafe fic also thinking about doing this same concept with JJ.

again, the rafe i write is not canon. he’s just a dick most of the time.

You weren’t friends with Rafe Cameron. There wasn’t any parallel universe where the two of you would be friends.

He despised you because you chose a life with the Pogues over a life with the Kooks. But he didn’t seem to have as big of a problem with Kie as he had with you.

You couldn’t figure out why he disliked you more than anyone on the island. You figured it had to do with the fact that he didn’t like the fact that everyone knew he slept with a Pogue.

Once upon a time, you lost your virginity to Rafe. After realizing how he acted towards you, you didn’t really know why. But at the time, you felt safe with him. Better him than some random tourist at a party.

But after you and Kie made the grand transition from Kook to Pogue, he never spoke to you again. And when he did, would he some mean and snarky comment that you tried not to let get to you. But a person can only take so much before the words start to stick.

—

You were at a Boneyard party with your friends, you and Kie talking about the upcoming beach cleanup the two of you were planning. You were minding your own business but you could feel a pair of eyes burning into the back of your head.

“Dude, $500 you can’t get Y/N to go out with you and stay with her for 6 months.” Topper bet the older boy. “$500? That’s it? To get Y/N to go out with me?” Rafe laughed. “Yeah, it should be an easy $500 right?” Topper asked.

Rafe thought about it for a moment, deciding if he was really that bad of a person to lead you on like that. He didn’t really hate you as much as he said. He was just hurt that you felt he wasn’t good enough to stick around for.

“It’s a bet. $500 in 6 months.” Rafe finally said. The two Kooks shook hands and Rafe’s fixation landed on you.

You were standing with Kiara by the fire, drinking your hand, clearly talking about something you were passionate about. Rafe noticed that whenever you talked about something you loved, you talked with your hands ten times more than you did normally.

He assumed you were talking about the ocean or something like that with how big your smile was.

Rafe then put on his asshole Kook facade and began to approach you. “Hey, Y/L/N!” He called. You took one look at him and instantly rolled your eyes.

“Can we help you?” Kie asked him. “I need to talk to Y/N. Alone if that’s not a problem with you.” Rafe sassed the girl. Kie looked at you, almost a nonverbal way of asking if you’d be okay alone.

You gave her a small nod and she reluctantly walked away. “What do you want, Rafe?” You sighed. “Go out with me.” He said. “What?” You questioned. “Go out with me. We can go somewhere on the mainland or somewhere local. Wherever you like.” He explained.

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh before you realized he wasn’t joking. “You’re serious?” You asked. “Yeah, I’m serious.” Rafe answered. “Sorry if I have a hard time believing you want to go out with me after you’ve treated me.” You said.

“I was a dick. I’ll make it up to you. Just give me a chance.” Rafe replied. You looked at him for a moment, being very wary about the whole offer. “Okay. One date and if I even so much as a sense a stupid practical joke, I’m out.” You finally said.

Rafe smiled down at you before slowly backing up. “Great. I’ll pick you up, Friday at 6.” He said.

You had no idea what just happened. Rafe Cameron asked you out? And he actually seemed to mean it?

And to say the date went well was a total understatement for both you and Rafe. You both had an amazing time together, exploring the mainland and not having to worry about the Kook v. Pogue prejudice.

In the 6 months Rafe had been with you, he soon realized there wasn’t a single thing he didn’t love about you. He loved how you would dance around to your indie and alternative music as if no one was watching.

How you dragged him to the beach to watch the baby turtle eggs hatch. Even though he said he didn’t want to, he’d go anywhere if you asked.

Rafe also loved how you loved life in general. You didn’t care about the class system on the Outer Banks, you just cared about the people you loved. Your dad, your brother, the Pogues, and now Rafe.

Which made him feel even worse about the bet. It was nearing 6 months and Rafe knew he couldn’t just end it with you. He knew how that would hurt you. So he called Topper and asked him to call the whole thing off.

“Maybe we should just end the whole thing. You can have your money and we can call it off.” Rafe said over the phone.

“You aren’t going soft are me now are you?” Topper mocked. “No, I’m just saying this bet is stupid. It’s too easy now.” Rafe lied. “I’ll double it. $1,000 if you can make it to 6 months with Y/N.” Topper said.

Rafe hadn’t known you were going to come over so early so he thought he had time to talk to Topper. But you were standing out in the hallway in front of his door, listening to the whole thing.

“Wow, $1,000. Only an idiot would turn that down.” You sneered. Rafe turned around with wide eyes before quickly hanging up the phone. “H-How much did you hear?” He asked. “All of it.” You answered. “So you asking me out that night was a stupid bet? And our entire relationship has been a lie?” You asked, your voice raising.

“No, Y/N, let me explain.” Rafe pleaded. “Why should I? I think you and Topper explained everything perfectly. I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you. I’ve just been a huge joke you and your friends could laugh about.” You said.

Rafe began to walk towards you but you talking a couple steps back made it very clear you didn’t want him coming near you.

“We’re done, Rafe. I hope you enjoy the money.” You said sadly before you left his bedroom. When you walked into the hall, you saw Sarah standing a little ways away, but you knew she heard everything. “Did you know?” You asked her. “Of course not. I had no idea he was doing this for money.” She answered.

“Everything was a lie. I-I really thought he cared about me.” You spoke quietly, the tears welling up in yours eyes.

Sarah frowned and pulled you into a warm embrace. She couldn’t help but feel guilty since it was her brother who was causing you so much pain. “I know we were supposed to hang out tonight but I think Im just gonna head home.” You said.

She didn’t want you driving home in the state you were in but she also knew that you being alone was what was best for you.

When you arrived home, you avoided your father’s questions like they were the plague and made a b-line for your bedroom. But even then you couldn’t escape Rafe’s presence because everything reminded you of him.

For weeks after you are Rafe broke up, you were a bit different. You didn’t really feel like yourself because you didn’t know what was real anymore. Finding out about the bet made you question everything and your self esteem took a pretty big hit.

But you were good at faking it for the most part. You still hung out with the Pogues as if nothing was wrong.You went out to Boneyard parties, hung out with Kie, surfed with JJ, went shopping with Sarah. But you could only pretend so much.

You were sitting on your surfboard in the water, JJ floating next to you as you two waited for a wave.

“JJ, can I tell you something?” You asked him. “Of course, Y/N.” He said. “Rafe and I broke up. Apparently I was nothing but a cash grab for him.” You confessed. “What? What do you mean, cash grab?” He asked. “I was just a bet. Apparently Topper bet him $500 to go out with me and make it 6 months. I guess he was calling Topper to call off the bet but he offered him $1,000. I haven’t told anyone, only Sarah knows.” You explained.

“You know he’s a moron, right? You’re not even worth $500, you’re priceless, Y/N and don’t let Rafe and his dickhead friends make you think any differently.” JJ said.

You could tell that telling him the truth really riled him up but he never fought with Rafe for the sake of you. Your friendship was more important than wanting to knock Rafe flat on his ass.

“What are you going to do?” JJ asked. “I don’t know. I’m having a very hard time believing he faked everything the past 6 months but Rafe is pretty convincing when he wants to be. But am I really that stupid to think he actually cared about me?” You answered.

“No, that doesn’t make you stupid. And what I’m about to say I will never admit to saying but what if Rafe actually did care about you? I mean, everyone knows his dad is always on his ass about money and he was going to turn it down for you.” JJ said.

You sat quietly for a moment, watching the stillness of the water before looking back to JJ. “Are you saying I should talk to him?” You asked. “I’m saying maybe you owe yourself that much.” He answered. “Since when the hell did you become so insightful? Usually you’d tell me to beat him up or smash his car.” You laughed.

“Well, this time I just want you to be happy. And as much as I hate to say it, he made you very happy.” JJ said. “I really don’t like it when you’re right.” You muttered.

After a couple more minutes, you and JJ headed back to the beach and when you got there, Rafe was standing on the sand a few feet away from the shore line.

You slowed your pace slightly as you made eye contact with him. You readjusted your grip on your board as you and JJ kept walking. “Y/N, hey, can I talk to you?” Rafe asked uncomfortably.

You and JJ had never seen Rafe look less confident before until that moment. “JJ, I’ll meet you back at the Chateau.” You told the blonde. JJ nodded his head but not before giving Rafe a suspecting look as he walked away.

“You wanted to talk?” You asked him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I should’ve never taken that stupid bet in the first place. I-I guess I was holding a grudge against you before.” He said. “For what? I never did anything to you, Rafe.” You asked. “You left me. You chose the Pogues and the Cut over me. We were always friends before and then you and Kiara just decided it wasn’t good enough anymore. That I wasn’t good enough.” He explained.

“I didn’t choose the Pogues because of you, Rafe, or over you. Figure 8 is toxic and everyone we used to hang out with was terrible and I couldn’t do that anymore. You were the one who froze me out after we slept together. Let’s not also forget that you faked our entire relationship.” You rebutted.

“No, no, Y/N, I didn’t fake anything. Everything we had was real. You have no idea how it easy was to fall for you because you are amazing and I-I messed it up. I hurt you and I know it’s not going to make it better, but I’m sorry.” Rafe said.

You pushed your board into the sand before sitting down in front of it and motioned for Rafe to do the same.

“I was falling in love with you, Rafe. So to hear you and Topper just use me for your own sick enjoyment, broke my heart.” You started. “I defended you to everyone to just find out that they were right.” You finished. “You said ‘was.’ Like past tense.” Rafe spoke quietly.

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you stared at the sunset. “I wish we could just move on, forget it ever happened but I don’t think we can.” You said.

Rafe’s body stiffened and he hung his head low, not liking where the conversation was going.

“But, we can start over. Clean slate.” You added. The boy looked up at you, almost as if he thought you were kidding. “Really?” He asked. “Yeah, really. But, on a few conditions.” You said. “Anything, I will do anything.” He said. “You leave my friends alone. He’s going to kill me for saying this but JJ was actually the one who told me we should talk so you kind of owe him. Second, you let me punch Topper, very very hard.” You told him.

Rafe laughed lightly at your words as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder. “Sounds like a plan.” He said. “Also, give me your phone.” You said. Rafe took his phone out of his pocket and gave it to you.

He looked over your shoulder to see what you were doing as you opened the Venmo app.

You pressed ‘pay and request’ and put Topper’s user name in.

@TopperThornton: Pay $1,000

Summary: congrats, i lost the bet. Y/N is worth so much more. she’s also gonna kick your ass

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” Rafe commented. You hummed in response, resting your head on his shoulder. Rafe pressed a light kiss on your forehead as the two of you watched the sunset together.

#Outer Banks #outer banks imagine #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #jj maybank #john b routledge #kiara carrera #pope heyward #sarah cameron #topper thornton #imagine

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wordsfromthesol · 3 years

Text

Hunted

Author: @wordsfromthesol Taglist: togasbetch malfoys-demigod pricetagofficial Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader Summary: You're a detective at Bludhaven PD with Dick Grayson and when a serial killer your after starts hunting you down, you have no choice but to ask for his help. Warnings: Kidnapping, stalking Word Count: 2.3k

You had been working at Bludhaven PD for about 2 years before the hotshot Dick Grayson came on the scene. Though you had grown into friends or at least friendly coworkers…he annoyed the shit out of you. After all, everything seemed to come so easy to the pretty boy Grayson and you could count the number of times you had actually seen him at the station on one hand. Thankfully this happened to be one of those times because you had run out of options.

"Dick, can I get your eyes on this case? I'm been staring at these files for hours and can't find the pattern. Yeah, they've obviously got a type. But that's not enough to go on."

Dick briefly runs through the file before staring blankly up at you. "You can't be serious, right? You need to take yourself off this case."

"People are dying, Dick." You had already assumed you would get some pushback from the star detective.

"I can't let you go after this guy. You're an exact match to all 5 people they've killed." Dick attempted to reason with you, to no avail.

"Then I'm the exact person who should go after this guy. Rather it be me than some civilian." Finally, Dick relented and gave you some useful information.

"Well…everyone was taken near an abandoned subway line." He takes out a highlighter and marks up the map. You tried to mask your nervousness as the bright yellow line stopped a block from your apartment.

"Thanks…I didn't even notice that." He nodded, still apprehensive about giving you the information, as he handed the file back to you. Tucking the papers away, you decided to finish up the research at home.

As you sauntered home, you were barely able to keep your eyes open. Stopping at the crosswalk, you noticed a man staring at you in your peripheral vision. You swore he was the same man from five blocks ago. Surely you were just paranoid…right? You began weaving in and out of the crowd, making a complete circle back to the crosswalk. Yet there he was in the corner of your eye. This wasn't paranoia. This was real. You pulled your phone out of your pocket and pressed Dick's contact card.

"Hey, uhm…remember that case we were talking about today?"

"You mean literally 20 minutes ago? Yeah, I remember."

A nervous chuckle escaped your lips, "Well you were probably right." Dick could hear the shakiness in your voice.

"He's following you, isn't he?"

Your current situation momentarily left your mind as the words tumbled out of your mouth, bypassing the brain. "How the fuck could you possibly know that?!"

"Don't go home. I'm coming to get you." You wanted to plead with him to stay on the line, but your stubbornness got the best of you. Slowing your pace, you attempted to stay in the crowd and walked straight. How was Dick even going to find you? As soon as the thought danced across your mind, there he was, as if you summoned him from thin air.

"Y/N!" The familiar voice called out from the street. A deep sigh of relief flooded over you as you trotted over to him. Crawling on the back of the motorcycle, you didn't bother asking where he was taking you. Anywhere was better than here.

"Wow. Just wow." Dick shook his head in awe as he climbed off the bike, ushering you into the apartment building.

"It's not like I planned it." You tried to force the uneasiness from your voice.

"Right, of course not. You realize he had to have been following you for days now, right? He knows where you live. You can't go back there." You hadn't really thought about that, yet where were you supposed to go? You looked at him pensively, unable to form a proper sentence. "Looks like you're staying here then." The alacrity of the statement caught you off guard.

"I can't just --"

"Right right. So let's go antagonize the serial killer. Genius." The sheer amount of sarcasm took you aback, this was a completely different side of the infamous Dick Grayson than you were used to.

You glared at him as he opened the door to his apartment. "So dramatic…besides, someone has to stop him. He's already after me, so I'm the perfect bait."

Dick's eyes went wide. He looked at you like you had three heads before bellowing, "ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOT!"

"Do you have a better plan?" Part of you hoped he would begin rattling off some convoluted trap. One that didn't hold your life in the balance.

"Well…not yet. But I'm sure we can think of something. Give me a few days."

A few days came and went and you were losing your mind in Dick's apartment. The worst part was, you were never alone. Dick or one of his family members was always by your side. You weren't quite sure how some 14-year-old kid was supposed to do anything if said serial killer showed up, but Dick was insistent.

Finally, you caught a break. Jason, your latest babysitter got called away on some emergency and Dick wouldn’t be home for another hour. Of course, Jason informed you to tell Dick he left just moments ago, which actually worked in your favor. You dialed Captain Holt on your phone and began to strategize. The captain wasn't keen on using you for bait either, but eventually, you swayed him. Everything was planned to take place tomorrow afternoon, a time Dick just so happened to be testifying in court.

"Y/N?" The confusion spread across Dick's face as he opened the door.

"I'm here!" You called out from the bedroom before stepping into sight.

"Where's Jason?"

"Oh, family emergency. But he left like two minutes ago. Nothing to worry about."

"Okay…" Dick didn't sound convinced.

"I also got a call from the captain today. He wants to meet with me tomorrow at 2." You tried to play it off as a casual request, but you knew it wouldn't be that simple.

"What? Why? We still haven't caught the psychopath…plus I have court tomorrow."

"Dick, I'll be in a police station. You can drop me off on your way."

Dick let out an exasperated sigh, "Fine. But I don't like it."

You were absolutely terrified, but you tried your best not to let it show through. After all, you asked for this. Dick still seemed uneasy, even as he dropped you off at the precinct. You wondered if he could tell something was wrong. Though there wasn't much he could do at this point, considering he was due in court by noon.

"Y/N. Are you sure about this?" Captain Holt questioned as you walked into his office.

"No. But something needs to be done. This guy doesn't just give up. So either I'm bait and we have a chance at catching him, or I die a horrific death for no reason. Not the best of options."

Holt nodded in understanding, "Well everything is set up. We have snipers in position around the perimeter of your apartment and a dozen plain-clothed in the vicinity."

"So hopefully we have a chance. What about near the abandoned subway entrance? That's how Dick thinks he's staying out of sight."

"Covered. We are ready to go on your command. Though I still think Detective Grayson should be informed of the plan."

"He's in court. So he couldn't help out anyways. The fewer people that know, the better. Let's move."

You arrived at your apartment without any issues, though you could feel a million pairs of eyes on you. With everyone watching you, it would be hard to notice one more face. Nevertheless, you persisted, attempting to go about your day in your apartment. The apartment that now seemed so foreign to you, though you had only been unexpectedly ripped from it a week ago.

As the day went on you began to feel more and more lightheaded. Normally, you would chalk it up to stress, but given the situation, you decided otherwise.

"Captain…"

"There is still no sign of him," he ignored the strain in your voice.

"I think…he's already…here." A crashing sound was left ringing through the earpiece.

"I want everyone on her position now! Get me a visual!" Captain Holt's booming voice commanded those around him. "Where are my snipers?!" An eerie silence crept over the line. "Shit." He mumbled before pulling out his phone. The dial tone appeared to mock him until finally the other end picked up.

"What happened?" The stringent words reverberated in the air.

"He has her."

"Goddammit. How did he get her out of the precinct?" Dick didn't wait for an answer. "Because she wasn't in the precinct. How could you let her be bait? You've seen what this guy does!" The anger was bubbling up inside him. Out of everyone, why you. Why did he have to go after you?

"I know."

"How long? HOW LONG HAS HE HAD HER?!" Two cops turned towards Captain Holt as Dick's voice echoed from the speaker.

"About a minute. From her apartment." As soon as the word left his lips, the line went dead. Holt buried his head in his hands. If there was any hope of finding her, it was Dick Grayson.

You woke up in a cold, dark, concrete room. "Well, guess that didn't work out as planned…" You mumbled to yourself, or so you thought.

"Really? You thought a bunch of cops in blue jeans could stop me? I've been hunting you for months. Along with the others. But you. You were my challenge. I memorized everything about you. Your favorite breakfast, your confidants, what time you call your family. Lovely little folks, by the way. And then you thought you could hideaway in that pathetic little Richard Grayson's apartment. The only reason I didn't take you then is because I didn't want to. What kind of challenge would that be? That would have diminished everything!" He carefully stepped around your chair, weaving your hair in and out of his fingers, until he turned to face you. "But now, here you are! My masterpiece! My coup d'etat!" His lips forced their way to yours. "Don't worry, my sweet. I'll take my time with you. After all, the grand finale demands perfection!" The crazed man turned on his heel and sauntered out of the room, leaving you with your own horrific thoughts.

It felt like hours had gone by before he returned. When he walked in, his eyes went immediately to your wrists and fingernails, which were now bloodied beyond recognition. "Now I wish you hadn't done that. Blood does not make for a spectacular fossilization." He walked around and surveyed the damage. "I guess it was to be expected though. After all, it wouldn't be fun without the challenge."

"You know, you keep saying that this is some big challenge, yet you gassed me and then tied me up. That doesn't seem like you are really challenging yourself."

"Simple-minded fool! Challenges are not always those of brute force. It took planning and timing to get you here. Those 4 snipers set up on the surrounding roofs? Had to get them out of the way. A delay in your communication device? Truly a necessity. And though you had the foresight to add a few men to the abandoned subway tunnel, they neglected to surveil the associated maintenance hatches. So you see, your perfect encapsulation proves to be quite the…" You noticed a slight furrow of his brow as the sentence broke. "Challenge. Now to finish preparing the resin!" Off he galloped, but you swore something was off. A slight change in his mood.

You heard several loud bangs before your captor fell backward through the door. Nightwing loomed over his grisly body. Then his eyes shot up towards you.

"I'm okay." The words were forced from your throat. With those two small words, Nightwing glared down towards the man and began throwing punch after punch. "STOP! Please!" You screamed out the words, shocked at the vigilante's ferocity. Nightwing's eyes slowly shifted towards you. It was as if a twinge of pain ran its way through his body as he crept towards you. Once close enough, his hands carefully cradled your face until finally, he spoke.

"I don't know what I would have done without you. Why did you do something so stupid?" You could tell he wanted to say the words out of anger, yet a euphoric aura surrounded them instead.

Still confused, you began to answer as he unbound your wrists and ankles. "He wasn't going to give up. This was our chance to catch him…"

"I would've found another way!" The words burst out of him louder than expected. Nightwing let out a sigh as he helped you out of the chair.

"Alright, Dick, I'm sorry." You glanced at him for a reaction...nothing. Worried he didn't hear you, you pushed the point further. "Guess I should be glad you weren't in court long."

Dick stopped in his tracks, finally realizing his mistake. "I…uh…left early." As the two of you got outside, there were a dozen cop cars already swarming the area. Two of the officers came up to meet you.

"Detective! Are you alright? What happened?!" The first began to raddle off questions, but Dick quickly deflected.

"You can find out later. I'm taking her to the hospital. Your man is inside, unconscious."

"I can still talk ya'know…" You mumbled as the officer ran off to inform the others of the new information.

"Yeah, but then you'd try to convince me not to take you to the hospital. And that's not going to happen. But don't worry, the captain is on his way there now. You'll get to regale the entire course of events with him."

It was almost scary how well he knew you. "You'll stay too?" The simple question caused an oversize grin to spread across his face, but all he did was simply nod.

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djarrex · 3 years

Note

Listen, clone wars era rex is the sweetest sub ever. Zero brat energy like others (coughwolffecough), he is absolutely there to please you and experience all the ways you make him feel loved. But it takes a bit for him to find out that he actually likes being a sub. With everything he is responsible for, I think he feels to bring that same energy to the bedroom - only problem is he isn’t very experienced. He’s not a virgin, but the most he's had are some quickies in the bathroom of 79s. So when you first get together, he feels he needs to be the one taking charge (even though he isn’t really sure what to do). It’s only after a particularly difficult mission when he is with you and he is at a loss of what to do. He knows he needs you, but he can’t focus. He just wants to stop thinking about how badly the mission went, how many brothers he lost. He just wants to get lost in you. That’s when you take over. You start showering him with love, kisses, words of praise, everything. You tell him all the things you’re going to do to him and he immediately falls for it. Relinquishing control is calming and a relief, something he never expected. He loves seeing you in power, seeing his smart and strong girl taking over, dishing out orders that Rex is all too ready to follow. As long as it means you’ll sit on his face, ride him, suck his dick, or just touch him, he’s all for it. Not to mention it lets him forget that he is a captain. In these moments, it’s just you and him.....Or I mean something like that. I dunno 😬

insp

VEE!!! 🆘️ "He brings a new meaning to 'good soldiers follow orders'" 😈😏 you rightttttt

Look, I'm all for dom Rex - I love to write it and I love to read it. That being said, I'm totally on board with the idea of having to show Rex exactly what he needs for him to feel good, to forget - especially after an extremely tough and emotionally/mentally/physically draining mission. Rex just wants - no, needs - someone else to take control every now and then, even if he doesn’t realize it at first.

SOOOO this kinda got away from me. literally could have wrote more but I have an assignment to work on (lmaooo). maybe I’ll do like a continuation of this later on? if that’s what the people want?

some warnings include: face riding, sub!rex, no-no words, uhhh... 🥴

AS ALWAYS, 18+ only under the cut :’)

***

Rex stands at your doorway, his forehead glued to the arm that's propped up against the door frame, helmet loosely gripped by his other hand hanging down at his side. It hurts to see him like this - drained, both physically and mentally. Bags under his tired eyes. Dirt on his face and caked on all over his armor. Even though he was created for battle, it's doing a number on him with each and every one he makes it out of; he physically makes it out of each and every battle, but not mentally, and not emotionally. It's always there - the loss, the bloodshed, the need to take charge, and the responsibility to ensure his men's safety - lingering inside his head no matter where he is or what he's doing.

Including the times when what he's doing is you.

When you and Rex first got together he was unsure, a little on the inexperienced side, but he was rough. You didn't mind of course; you liked it rough, and it was never like he'd hurt you or would ever come near to hurting you. You thought that maybe the roughness was due to his sexual inexperience, that the only other times he’d have sex in the past were just that. You really didn’t think too much about it, especially not when he was in the middle of pounding you into another galaxy before making you cum all over his cock over and over again.

As time went on, you started to understand where the roughness within the intimacy was stemming from; everything that had happened on the actual battlefield before he'd come home - including the battlefield within his mind - was being channeled into the way he handled you. Even outside the warzone, safe within your arms, Rex feels he needs to maintain control - to take charge. You understood, and let him have his outlet - It's not like you weren't benefiting from it; Rex may not have had much to go on before fucking you for the first time, but after months and months of practice, he'd become a fucking god in the bedroom.

There were definitely softer moments when he'd be crowded over you, trailing messy kisses from your collarbone up to your lips, his hips gently thrusting into you while hitting oh so deep. When your lips would be just barely touching as you breathed in each other's moans. When you'd both maintain eye-contact while simultaneously unraveling. The more gentle, loving, and softer moments weren't ones that followed his return home from a long deployment, no - those were reserved for all the times in between. You'd fallen in love with each other, but refrained from mouthing those three words in fear that you'd both be punished from feeling such forbidden things for one another.

And so tonight, seeing the drained and defeated expression engrained in his handsome features and the way his body slumped forward as he entered your apartment after a long couple of weeks was a telltale sign that this would be one of those rough nights.

You wanted to try something new, though.

***

"I want to take care of you, Rex."

He’d just got out of the ‘fresher, giving you some time to think while he was getting cleaned up. A towel loosely hangs around his hips, water droplets gliding down his toned muscles as he moves closer to where you’re sat at the foot of your bed.

"You will take care of me, cyare." He grins while rubbing his hands along your upper arms. You release a puff of air from your nostrils, focusing on a particular water droplet slowly descending from his collarbone and trailing down to where the material of the towel soaks it right up before tilting your head to meet his eyes.

You shake your head with a smile, speaking softly as you rest your hand against his abdomen, "No, that's not what I mean." You’re met with an amused yet confused look and you continue, "I want you to just lay back, and let me handle things for once. Is that okay?"

"I..." He trails off, clearly not sure what to say. You know he must’ve already had a plan on how the night would go, and that plan was probably supposed to take effect after he drops his towel. Now you’re met with the face of a man who is unsure of what to do now that the plans are about to change - he’s nervous. You keep that smile on your lips when you reach down to intertwine your fingers with his, bringing the backs of his hands up to your lips and placing soft kisses on each one.

"You're safe with me, Rex. Safe here. You don't need to think about everything when you're here with me, okay? I just.... wanna try something."

***

Wow. What a fucking vision he is right now.

Rex, the esteemed Captain of the five-oh-first, completely bare and sprawled out on his back on top of your sheets, has his head craned to watch you strip at the foot of the bed. His cock is painfully hard, twitching ever so slightly with each of his eager heart beats as he struggles to watch you undress - teasingly slow.

"Look at you, Rex." You audibly marvel at man you love, knowing what the praise does to him - it's very evident in how his glistening chest rapidly rises and falls and in the twitching of fingers. "My handsome, brave Rex. So good for me, doing just as I say," you coo at him, making your way from the foot of the bed to the side where your naked body can be level with his head. He turns his face towards you, his pupils blown wide and brow furrowed. He needs this. You crouch down, moving to where your eyes are in line with his as you reach to caress his sharp cheekbone. "Does it feel good so far, Rex?" you whisper while running your thumb along his bottom lip. "Does it feel good to let someone else call the shots for once?"

"Y-yes," he strains, followed by a muffled groan when you sink your thumb into his hot mouth. His eyes search for approval and you nod to him with a sweet smile before he begins to gently suck at your thumb - his perfect lips closing a seal around the thickest digit as you move it in and out slowly.

"First," you pull your thumb from his lips before standing up, "I'm gonna ride that pretty face of yours. If you're good and keep your hands to yourself I might sit on your gorgeous cock and ride you until I tell you to cum. How does that sound?" You punctuate your plans by closing your lips around the same thumb that was just in Rex's mouth, giving a couple sucks while staring right into his eyes before popping it out and tracing his abs with the soaked digit. The groan of approval that spills from Rex's lips goes straight to your cunt.

Wasting no more time, you climb on the bed and throw one leg on the other side on his face. Gripping the headboard for balance, you begin to sink down against him and are instantly met with his expert tongue, licking through your folds before you’re all the way sat. Fuck. He always was the best with his tongue, but this time, you’re the one in control. Crouched and straddled over his face, you begin to gently move your hips back and forth against the wet muscle, letting your already soaked cunt slide against his perfect face. You have never done something like this before, and oh fucking boy is it exhilarating.

It isn’t very long before you start to feel the blossom of heat within your core, the intense shockwaves that trickle through your body making you quiver against his face. You wanted this whole thing to be about Rex, but there’s no stopping the orgasm that shatters its way through you, making you cry out and smack a palm against the headboard. Rex’s tongue works in double-time, gliding back and forth to collect your release and stopping to flick at your clit in between deep groans. You feel him hum - deep and dark - beneath you, the vibrations making you nearly fall forward from the intensity.

“R-rex,” you pant, peering down to look at his dark honey eyes as they meet yours while his tongue continues its assault. You lower a hand to tap at his head, and his tongue disappears back into his mouth. When you lift off his face, you inch yourself downwards, placing kisses on every spot of skin your mouth can reach as you make your way to his thighs. He’s trembling, fighting to keep his hands at his sides but he does so like a good boy - and you tell him just that.

You let out a blissed-out sigh, now straddling his thighs while your palms rest against his chest. “You did so good for me, Rex. Fuck, you look so pretty with all of me on your handsome face.” He doesn’t say a word, just stares at you with pleading eyes, lips glistening and parted. His cock twitches in front of you - swollen and desperate.

You lean forward to meet his face, your lips just barely touching his as you whisper into his agape mouth, “You want me to fuck you, Rex?” punctuated by a nibble to his bottom lip. His only response is a throaty moan before you lean back to watch him, your fingers tracing invisible patterns along the dark skin of his thighs. You raise a brow at him, signaling your need for a verbal answer to which he visibly gulps, eyes clamping shut as he nods before choking out:

“P-please fuck me, cyare.”

***

edit: I’m literally so sorry that I keep forgetting to tag my Clone Bois peeps in things like this :(((

@deewithani @chromia7567 @threevie @letitrainathousandflames @latenightsthoughtsnstuff @justanothersadperson93 @ohtobeamoth @14mcmd1122 @tacticalsparkles @cheesemachine44 @bvcketfvcker

#ngl I read your thot in the car and got super excited to write about it when I was able to get to my laptop #thots with M #and VEE :')#sub!rex #literally a god-tier thot #captain rex smut #captain rex x reader #djarrex writes

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blxnkflying · 3 years

Text

bucky barnes - dancing in the living room

Notes: First time writing after a really long time; English is not my first language; Let me know if you like my writing - by that requests are open. Don’t copy, translate or repost my work.

Warning: smut; mentions of drinking; pet names (doll/baby); bucky's first time with the reader; oral sex (male receving); unprotected sex.

I recommend listening to “Summer Walker - Girls Need Love (Girl's Edition)” to get in the mood. :)

I’m taking the last sip of wine while putting the plates in the sink when I feel his presence behind me. A kiss on the neck, left metal hand on my hip and his whiskey breath saying “May I have a dance?”. He grabs my hand smirking while taking me to the living room and I can hear the song going as he hugs me by the waist and I put my hands over his shoulders.

We’re slow dancing in my dark living room with just the lights from the street shining on us. All I can feel right now is eyes looking at me and going down in my body every time he spins around my tiptoes. Bucky spins me one more time as the song is ending and our movements become slower. He holds my face gently and with his thumb slowly outlining my lips. “You look really good in this red dress, Doll.” I give him a shy smile and I’m pretty sure he enjoys that everytime he compliments me, I don’t know how to react. His lips taste like the whiskey from before and his hands are grabbing my waist putting us closer and closer. I break the kiss for air and he still has the same smirk from before. I can feel in my skin those blue eyes are hungry for something else. I push him to the sofa behind us and he sits spreading those thick thighs of his, not breaking eye contact not even once. I sit on his lap biting my lips imagining the pleasure and his right hand goes to the cleavage of my dress pushing it down just a little, just to tease me.

I look down to his hand almost on my breasts and go to his neck. Kissing, licking, sucking and thinking “We’re definitely having sex tonight.” I go again for his lips and I can feel the arousal building up my legs. He grabs my hair a little too hard to kiss my neck to my breasts, making me close my eyes and bite my lips again. When I return to his lips, I can see his shy hands on my thighs, wishing they were on my ass. So this is what I do.

I take his hands out of my thighs and put them in my ass. While I’m kissing him, I can feel his fingers tracing the lace of my underwear and to my surprise he grabs my ass firmly and brings me even close. I break the kiss letting a moan out, he laughs at me, proud of himself for making moan first.

We are back kissing and his hands are still on my ass making me grind on his jeans and all I can perceive is his length in my cunt.

“Bucky…” I said breathing heavily.

“Yeah, baby.” He doesn't bother and is still kissing my neck with his right hand on my hair and the metal one holding my waist firmily.

“Are you sure of it?” Even though I was having the moment, I was a little worried about how much intimacy he was comfortable with.

“I’m definitely sure.” He kisses me again with instinct, almost aggressively, just to show me how much he wanted that.

“Bucky.”

“What baby?” He says holding my neck with his right hand paying attention to my interruption after he just told me he was more fine doing it.

“Then I wanna fuck you”. I said looking into his eyes waiting for his reaction.

He is quickly holding me by the waist and lifting me. My legs are around his hips while he is taking me to my room. I’m surprised that even after a long time, his body is reacting like he never took a break. His hands on my body, his lips on my neck and his tongue on mine.

He presses me to the wall, letting me stand on my feet while my hands are up in his shirt, scratching his abdomen. He puts me closer, letting me feel his hard cock again, pressed against my dress. I can tell he likes the teasing while I take his blue navy shirt.

“Can I give you a little present?” I have a smirk on my lips this time with hungry eyes for the man standing shirtless right in front of me. Knowing I’m going to fuck him like no else did before because I know the ladies in the 40’s were a little basic.

He follows my hands going to take off his beat and unbutton his jeans. “Of course, baby.” I get on my knees taking off his pants, leaving him on black boxers. I give a gentle kiss on his volume with his boxers on and I feel him becoming anxious for me to put all his length in my mouth.

I take off his boxers while leaving kisses on the end of his abdomen and his cock is just so wet from all the pre-cum that I had to lick it. I hear him moaning while I’m sucking his dick. It’s music for my ears. He puts his hand through my hair to help me with my movements. I take his dick of my mouth and hold it with my hand doing some circular movements on his swollen tip. His leg starts to fail because of the sensitivity of his dick and he tries to hold my hand to make me stop. I laughed it off and put his member in my mouth again for the last time. I get on my feet going for a kiss, making him taste himself in my mouth.

He takes off my dress and stares at me. His hands are on my breasts, feeling the lace of my lingerie and squeezing them. He gets on his knees looking up to me while grabbing my waist with his hand while spreading kisses in my belly, going down to my cunt over the lace underwear. He gets up and throws me to the bed on my stomach. I feel his hard cock pressing on my ass and he kisses my back until he is in my ear whispering “Tell me what you want, Doll.”

“I wanna ride you, Bucky.” My words made him squeeze my ass and breathe heavily. Of course I realized he was talking about what he could do to please me but tonight was about him. I wanted to give him the pleasure he was waiting for. I hold his face to kiss again while he is taking care of taking my bra and my underwear off. His hand are touching my pussy without any sign to go to my clit or my entrance. I break the kiss to look what the fuck he is not doing and for my surprise, he puts two fingers inside me. He really waited for me to look at him to do this. The moan I let out, the way I rolled my eyes back to the pleasure of it, he wanted to see my face, my reaction to his movements.

“Lay down for me, baby.” I whisper in his ear as he is squeezing my breasts.

As he lays down on the bed, I get on top of him putting his member in my hand going up and down while kissing his stomach. I give him one more kiss on the lips before aligning his dick to my entrance. His hands are on my hips helping me go up and down on his member, my breasts are freely bouncing to his view and our noises are filling up the room. Our bodies are hot and sweating from the movements and all we can do is touch each other desperately from the desire.

While I’m riding Bucky, I put his hand under mine in my belly so he can feel his member deep inside me. His response is to arch his hips up under me making me cry out of pleasure. “You like that?” He is holding my chin with his metal hand when I barely can hold myself up on his dick. I guess that serum really works in a lot of ways. “I really don’t believe you are already tired, babygirl… Let me handle that.”

Now he is on top of me, I can easily outline the muscles of his shoulders with my fingers while scratching his back. The moaning in my ear is driving me crazy, making me squeeze his member inside of me even more. Bucky is going slowly and deep just to see me twitch beside him and it’s working. My thighs are already shivering and I can feel my orgasm building. As it arrives I bite his right shoulder because of the pleasure and my nails are deep on his skin. His movements became faster as my bite got stronger and he cums on my leg while I’m trying to get my breath after this amazing orgasm I just had.

Our bodies are still spasming after the sex as we cuddle. “Wow, Doll.” Bucky is looking to the roof, trying to put his thoughts and words together.

“I didn't know you were so…” I’m also trying to find words after having my thoughts rearranged by his dick. He laughed it off “Yeah, baby. I can last longer than normal.”

I laugh too as he finishes the sentence making eye contact. “What?” “I guess that means we have more time to have fun.” I said while holding his chin. “For a girl that doesn’t know how to take compliments, you’re such a freak in the sheets, Doll.”

#bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes story #bucky barnes smut #bucky barns x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #mcu x reader

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an-anxious-gay-mess · 3 years

Text

Here's my headcanons of what neurodivergencies the lab rats (and leo) would have if I had been allowed to write this show

Adam:

-ADHD and Dyslexia

-"What do you mean the letters aren't supposed to move around?"

"Uh"

"Are you telling me most people don't have to read the same paragraph six times???"

"Uh-"

- After he got diagnosed he actually became a bit more interested in learning! It helps that most people are actually working with him now instead of just reassuring him that he's dumb -Chase especially feels really bad for teasing him so much without realizing how hard Adam had to try and researches ways to help people like him study

-Adam still doesn't go out of his way to do well though, he's fine as long as he's passing his classes

- is almost never standing still. He loves swivel chairs and will spend hours just spinning back and forth completely zoned out before he realizes he should probably eat something that day

-the only time you'll see him completely still is when he's sleeping or super upset about something. He gets RSD pretty bad sometimes and will just shut down completely when upset

Chase

-Autism, baby!!

-Gets really bad sensory overload and has a lot of meltdowns if he gets too overwhelmed

-he gets frustrated with himself a lot when he gets sensory overload and will try to ignore it, which usually makes it worse

-He has a lot of stims but he typically will only do the more visual ones when he feels safe (mostly when he's alone or with his family if he knows they won't make fun of him)

-Just. Constant info dumping. If you're going to start a conversation with him make sure you have at least 15 spare minutes to learn about the history of needle work (or whatever he's been researching that week)

-hates eye contact but will force himself for the sake of being Professional, to the point where he makes himself do more destructive stims (like pulling at his hair) or even having a meltdown

-(his family yells at him for doing this A Lot "Chase please just put on the goddamn headphones why do you do this to yourself-")

-he was kind of embarrassed about being autistic at first and still tries to hide it most of the time to prevent people from bullying him about it, but after a while he learns to accept that it's not his fault people want to be dicks, and that autism isn't something to be ashamed of

Bree:

-dyslexia and anxiety

-She's the one I have the least amount of headcanons for whoops-

-i think unlike Adam she's really embarrassed about being dyslexic and goes out of her way to avoid talking about it

-this is partially because of her anxiety too: she doesn't want to bother her teachers or anyone so she never mentions anything about getting accommodations

-because of this she struggles a lot in some of her classes, but she spends a lot of time worrying about them and studying too

-she's had a lot of panic attacks at 3 am over trigonometry

-after a while of her grades getting worse the school guidance counselor probably pulls her aside and is like "you know we can give you extra time to do tests right?" And basically gets her all the accommodations she needs

-Bree is like "wow glad I spent 2 years building that 5 minute conversation up in my head and making myself worry so much I threw up multiple times"

-she generally tries to not let anxiety control her too much, and once she gets some help from her teachers she gets way fewer panic attacks over school work

-she even tries to over compensate by trying to appear like nothing worries her even though Everything does

-she hates when her brother's occasionally go on missions without her (like if she's sick or injured), and her anxiety will scream at her the whole time they're gone

-they're always willing to reassure her that they're okay, though, and will even update her over headsets when they can

-she also worried a lot that people around her are secretly mad at her or don't like her. Her family is usually willing to reassure her that they love her, but it does tend to put a strain on relationships she forms outside of them

-also I think part of the reason she latches onto texting so much (besides the stereotypical Teenage Girl thing) is because spell check is a godsend

Leo

-OCD and autism

-tasha: uh hey buddy what are you doing?

6 year old leo: idk stacking these blocks

Tasha: oh, okay, why don't we work together to make a big tower?

Leo: no. There must be Exactly Six blocks in each tower

Tasha: okay buddy that's great :)

-the lab rats are initially very confused by some of his rituals

-for example: when he turned the lights in a room on or off, he had to flick the switch 5 times. Or at night, he had to check to make sure the door was locked three times

-they asked him if that was something that most people did in the outside world, and he explained to them what OCD was, and eventually told them about a bunch of other neurodivergences

-"wait so you said you have something called autism too?"

"Yeah, it's what makes me do that thing where I flap my hands sometimes. A lot of people with autism will know a lot of stuff about a few specific topics and will hate eye contact and other people touching them, but everyone is different"

Chase: "tell me more right now."

-that's how they end up getting diagnosed too!

-Leo tells them about different disorders (including ones they don't have) and they immediately launch onto the feeling of Are You Telling Me Other People Do This?

-they go to Big D about it and he's pretty accepting right away

-they debate a lot at first whether they want to get professionally diagnosed, but then they decide that it would be a lot easier to get accommodations at school with a doctor backing them up

-where was I going with this I'm completely spiraling

#long post #lab rats #bree davenport #chase davenport #adam davenport #leo dooley #these are kind of ooc but i havent fully watched this show in a couple years lmao

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moonlitceleste · 3 years

Text

marinette dupain-cheng’s guide to picking up cute guys

A/N: Chez Vous is real in the DC universe; it’s described as a restaurant but I decided to use it as the name of the café because I didn’t want to come up with one myself. It translates to “at your house,” which basically implies “make yourself at home.”

thanks to @ramos123 for being my beta reader! <3

ao3

“Bet.”

Marinette slapped a crisp 20-dollar bill onto the wooden table with enough force to slosh around the brown liquid in the cup sitting before Alya’s smirking face.

Chez Vous was the name of the café they had been sitting in for the past fifteen minutes. The place had a nice ambience, the quiet chatter of customers and aromatic smells combining to make what was an unusually cozy atmosphere considering the location.

Gotham wasn’t exactly known for being hospitable, but she supposed the fact that it was clearly fashioned after Parisian cafés contributed to the homey feel. It vaguely reminded her of her parents’ bakery as well, so it certainly lived up to its name.

Perhaps it was this sense of familiarity that had her and Alya reminiscing on how far they’d come. It hadn’t been that long since lycée or université—the two were only 22 and 23, respectively—but recalling the good times they’d shared was always fun to do.

Of course, their friendship had momentary blips (ahem, Lila), but the two had managed to sort out their problems eventually. Now that Alya had become more attuned to Marinette’s boundaries and there were no pressing superhero secrets to keep, they knew how to both ground and challenge each other in positive ways. Which was exactly what had caused Marinette to get herself into this situation.

While chattering about their lycée days, Alya poked fun at her once again for what had transpired on the day of the Animan akuma. How could she ever forget that while secretly masquerading as a superhero and locking her best friends in an empty gorilla habitat together, she had somehow helped them end up in a relationship? And now the two were engaged.

This topic somehow lead to Adrien and the stupid puns he spewed both in superhero and civilian form. Alya was insistent that Marinette was charmed by them at some point, to which she replied, No way! They were horrible. Even I could do better.

It was with twinkling eyes that her best friend asked “Bet?” and well, Marinette was never one to back down from a challenge. So after pulling out some spare cash from her purse and setting it down in front of Alya, she raised a brow.

A wicked smirk grew on her best friend’s face, and any lesser person would have faltered, but Marinette was prepared for anything that could possibly be thrown at her.

“Fine. If you’re so confident, I dare you to use a pick-up line on… him.”

As if on cue, the bell at the top of the glass-paneled wooden door jingled, and Marinette followed Alya’s pointed finger right on time to see a very attractive man walk through.

He had a confident stride, but not an arrogant one—his aura was one of someone who was assured and knew exactly what they were capable of.

Despite his seemingly laid-back disposition, she didn’t fail to notice how his eyes darted around the room cautiously, the same habit she had gotten used to doing after she had been given the Ladybug Miraculous. Then again, this was Gotham, so being on constant guard was only natural.

One thumb was hooked in the pocket of his jeans while the other moved up to ruffle his hair, and wow did he have nice hair.

It was perfectly coiffed, and if she didn’t have experience with hairstyling due to her career she would’ve thought it was as effortless as it looked. Most models would kill for the natural luster his locks seemed to have, and even from a distance she could tell that anyone who decided to run their fingers through his hair would be met with softness.

And she didn’t even want to get started on his face. From his glowing skin to his strong jaw and pretty eyes, she refused to believe someone so attractive could be real. It was unfair, really.

“...inette? Marinette? You good there, girl?”

A snap in front of her face broke Marinette out of her stupor, and she offered an instinctual yelp in response.

“What?”

Alya’s eyes twinkled knowingly, and Marinette shifted anxiously in her seat.

“You sure you weren’t checking him out?”

“Alya!”

Said girl let out a mischievous cackle at her hissed response.

“Now get over there!” she said, waving her hands around in a shooing motion.

Marinette glanced over to the line, where the man was no doubt giving the barista his order.

From what she could tell he was just about done, and she watched as he shuffled through his wallet to hand the barista a bill. But rather than proceed normally as most client-worker interactions would, his payment was met with wide eyes and flailing hands.

Marinette was much too far to discern what was being said, but from context clues she could deduct that he had just handed the barista quite a sizable amount. She had already guessed he was well-off from simply observing the quality of his clothes, but this was near confirmation.

It wasn’t as if status or wealth mattered much to her, but she did have a tendency to be wary of higher-class people due to past experiences with them. Being around them really wasn’t as pleasant as it seemed.

Her musing was interrupted when the man suddenly moved, relocating to the waiting line. There was her chance.

Marinette pushed herself out of her seat, steeling herself and lifting her chin high. This was no biggie. All she had to do was somehow convince this gorgeous man to give her his number by making a crappy pick-up line and a pun on the spot. It wasn’t anything she hadn’t done before, but this felt different, probably because it was a total stranger she was about to attempt it on.

She felt Alya’s gaze trailing after her with each step, and Marinette reminded herself that she absolutely had to succeed or she would never hear the end of it.

The closer she got, however, the more her confidence died. Apparently she had made a major miscalculation while gauging her probability of success, because she hadn’t accounted for the brain spasm she was currently having. Why, oh why did he have to be so cute?

Marinette had the sinking feeling that she was about to majorly embarrass herself, but she was determined to win. Screw embarrassment—she was Marinette Dupain-Cheng. All the trouble she had gotten into with Alix and Kim as kids had prepared her for this very moment. Nothing mattered besides victory.

So she sauntered up confidently, stopping right in front of her target.

“Hey, you must be Batman’s sidekick.”

“What?”

The man’s head snapped towards her, and Marinette didn’t fail to notice the subtle defensive stance he took. Years of hero experience had made her more perceptive towards these things—it was part of the job, after all. She filed the information away in the back of her mind, making a mental note to dissect all that later. Her priority was winning the bet—and oh, right, she still had to finish that pick-up line.

“...because you’re Robin my heart.”

The quip was accompanied by an uncharacteristically roguish smile, à la Chat Noir. She’d give herself a solid 10/10 points on delivery.

Her target seemed to agree with the verdict, because after a split second of shocked silence, he burst into full-bodied laughter.

The instantaneous shift in demeanor nearly caught her off-guard, but she was too occupied by the bright smile on his face and his melodic chuckle to notice. It was light and carefree, and she couldn’t help but crack a small smile as a result.

The only problem was that the laughter didn’t end, though, and she felt her face heat up more as the seconds ticked by.

Oh, Kwami.

Marinette buried her face into her hands with a soft groan, wishing the ground could just open up and swallow her whole.

She knew it wasn’t the greatest pick-up line ever, but she didn’t think her attempt warranted that much amusement.

The laugher ceased abruptly, and she peeked through her fingers in time to see the man quickly sober up.

“Sorry, I wasn’t laughing at you!”

A pause.

“Okay, not exactly. I just—wow, that was a great pick-up line.”

She slowly lowered her hands, though she kept her head down to peer at him through her lashes.

“Did it work?”

He chuckled and offered her a bright smile that made her blush like a high schooler with a massive crush.

“Yeah, you can tell your friend over there that you won your bet.”

If it was even possible, she turned redder.

“What? How…”

At the mention of Alya, Marinette sent a quick glance to their café table only to find that she was doing absolutely nothing to hide her rapt attention. She quickly caught on to the fact that they were looking her way and sent a very obvious thumbs-up and wink.

Oh, I am so going to kill her later!

But Marinette’s momentary vexation made way for embarrassment as the gravity of the situation hit her.

“I guess I wasn’t exactly subtle, huh?”

“Yeah,” the handsome stranger shrugged. “You probably could have been more discreet. But I liked it.”

“Okay, that’s the second time you’ve said that, but I have a hard time believing you. You can’t possibly tell me that you actually enjoy puns.”

“So I’m guessing I shouldn’t tell you that meeting you was a fortuitous aster?”

“Aster? As in the opposite of disaster?” she wrinkled her nose.

“You got it!”

Marinette rolled her eyes in exasperation, though the upwards tug at the corner of her lips betrayed her true feelings.

“Careful there, or you’ll be the one Robin my heart.”

She’d never admit to it, but she flushed a tiny bit before straightening up in realization. Hey, she was supposed to be the one doing the wooing here!

But before she could open her mouth to respond, her companion beat her to it.

“Since you’re stealing something so dear to me, I think it’s only fair that I get my thief’s name in exchange.”

He was clever, she had to admit.

“Marinette,” she proffered.

“Dick.”

She blinked in surprise at the seemingly random obscenity before it clicked.

“Oh, that’s your name!”

The words tumbled forward, and once she realized what she had said, Marinette tried to frantically backpedal. Her spilled apologies didn’t seem to be necessary, though, because that mesmerizing laugh came back.

“No, it’s fine, I get that a lot,” he breathed between chuckles.

She brightened immediately, glad she hadn’t offended him or embarrassed herself too much.

“Well, since I’m already taking something from you, may I steal your number as well?”

“Only if I can do the same.”

Her inquiry was met with a grin, and the two exchanged phones to type in their respective numbers. Marinette’s found its way back into her hand shortly after, and moments after she pocketed it the call of “medium espresso and beignets!” broke the quiet ambience.

“Well, that’s my order,” Dick said, words weighted by a silent apology. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I have a few things I need to take care of. Maybe we can meet up later this week?”

The end of his sentence lilted up in hope, and Marinette found her chest warming with affection.

“I’d like that.”

She bid him goodbye with a smile and a wave and quickly tacked on an “I’ll text you later!” in afterthought.

She’d forever deny squealing giddily as she unceremoniously dragged Alya out from her seat and through the café doors, but the sound didn’t escape Dick’s attention—or his enhanced hearing, courtesy of Bat-Tech.

As he watched her leave with Alya, a smile slowly spread across his face at the thought of seeing her again.

Yeah, he sighed to himself. She’s definitely Robin my heart.

PERMANENT TAGLIST *@astoriaandromeda @avengerthewarrior *@bluesimani @enternalempires @flower-girll @freesportspalacesalad @glastwime859 @h1sss @heart-charming @iloontjeboontje @jayjayspixiepop @jalaluvsu @kitsunebell @maskedpainter @moongoddesskiana @nathleigh @no-username2544 @too0bsessedformyowngood @ultimatetornshipper

#maribat #dickinette #cel's fics #celestewrites #ml x dc #mlb x dc #dick x marinette

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corrupt-fvcker · 3 years

Text

Dating Loki Headcanons…

Dating HCs ( Loki Laufeyson x GN!reader )

Warnings: SFW, gender neutral reader, mentions of loki being gender fluid, fluff, kissing, drinking, marijuana, domesticity, unedited, me lowkey roasting Loki

Word Count: 2.1K

Author’s Note: NO LOKI SPOILERS!! so i just finished the finale and… wow. feel free to send me a message about what you thought about it and/or some requests for loki :) i can also do requests for elaborating on these bullet points. also please correct me if i used improper terminology while writing about loki exploring himself as being gender fluid, i wrote it with my experience in mind though i understand that everyone is different.

Being Loki’s partner is not always easy.

Now, don’t get me wrong, loving Loki is nothing short of a magical experience. When you’re together is when you’re both happiest, it feels as if the stars align and a pleasant sense of peace settles over your conscious like morning fog.

Though, admittedly, loving him can be a bit dangerous. It’s electric. He fills you with energy and passion and power, yet if you’re not careful, you’ll get shocked.

Luckily, Loki is well-aware that he has some work to do when it comes to navigating his thoughts and feelings. While he may be proud and reluctant to admit his issues, he does force himself to do some inner-work for your sake.

He’s incredibly thoughtful when he wants to be. In the beginning of your relationship, it was easy for him to focus on himself. He’s a survivor and a schemer, he weighs his options and picks whichever benefits him the most.

However, as your relationship progresses, he learns to be more selfless. He eventually realizes that he’s happiest when you’re happiest. And over time, he switches his mentality from “how can I benefit from this?” to “how can we benefit from this?” You’re a team, in his mind. One cannot fail without everyone failing, and one cannot succeed without everyone succeeding.

He found that caring for others, specifically you, gets easier the more he does it. The more natural it becomes. He observes. He learns. And he forms habits.

After a particularly cold date involving an unanticipated rainstorm and only one available jacket, he always carries a spare sweater or coat with him, whether it be his or one of yours that he stole borrowed from your closet. And yes, he was a little too proud of himself the first time you needed the emergency sweater (definitely referred to himself as “insightful” and “genius” the rest of the day).

The ocean will dry up before there is a shortage of blankets at your house. He knows that he runs more than slightly cold, and he will not have you suffer from the fact. Heavy blankets for winter, fluffy blankets for autumn, light blankets for summer, knitted blankets for spring— this man could probably open up a blanket shop if he wanted to (he doesn’t, you made that joke already).

He has the smallest tendency to doubt himself. And by that I mean he is filled with self-doubt and insecurity about half the time. Not necessarily with day-to-day things. He knows that he can do chores, drive a car (barely but you’d never tell him that, you’d rather just insist on driving), charm just about anything that breathes, and summon anything he desires in a blink of an eye. But the small yet important things are what get the best of him. He worries you’ll find him to be too much work for what he’s worth. He stays up late at night, sure that one day he’ll step too far over the line. He’s nearly certain that you’ll eventually see through all his bells and whistles, and realize that he’s really not as magnificent as you had originally thought him to be.

Though, much to his fortune, you see through his bullshit. You know that he’s secretly insecure about your relationship and a lot of his qualities. And he’s forever grateful that you’re willing to look past his flaws and still love him. Or, in the very least, tolerate him.

Adjusting to life on Earth does spark a bit of an identity crisis within him. His life of luxury and royal privilege is gone. Though on the bright side, so is his life of torture and misery.

But nevertheless, he does find himself struggling to identify with the parts of himself that he was once so sure of.

He cuts his hair short and then grows it out. Changes his fashion tastes, changes the way he parts his hair, changes the literature he reads.

The changes don’t bother you, in fact you’re glad he’s finding healthy ways to adjust to this major lifestyle change.

At one point, Loki even changed his physical form. For a few weeks, he allowed himself to grow comfortable in his skin as a frost giant. While he didn’t feel entirely himself in this form, he was glad that after a few weeks the anxiety around it faded.

After trying out his form as a frost giant, Loki morphed into female form. While Loki was initially worried to see how you’d react to this change, she was pleased to find that you were happy as long as she was happy. For a few months, Loki remained in female form but ultimately reverted back to male form. Though on occasion he finds himself switching between the two.

He tends to be clingy. He likes to be touching you or have you touching him, though he enjoys when you’re both touching each other at the same time best. He likes it when you lay on top of him with your head on his chest, he likes to feel your heart beating against him. If you play with his hair, he’ll melt. He prefers keeping it long so you’ll braid it— he acts like he doesn’t enjoy you braiding his hair, but you know he does.

Kiss him on the tip of his nose. I dare you. He will turn dark pink before you even pull away.

He will never turn down the opportunity to hold you in his arms. He will kiss the top of your head if he can reach, and if he can’t, he’ll grow a few inches so that he can.

He enjoys cooking for you. There’s just something so simple yet domestic about cooking you something yummy. He’ll attempt to make all your favorite dishes and follow all of your dietary needs. No meat? No problem. No gluten? He’s got you covered. No dairy? He wouldn’t even think about adding some milk or throwing in some cheese as a harmless prank.

Which brings me to an important note: do not prank this man. He will take it personally. And he will not stop until he gets even with you and then some. Petty pranks don’t work on him either. Baby powder in the hair dryer is obvious and he’ll just point the dryer in your direction.

If he’s sick, good luck. You thought a god like him would be above a common cold. You were wrong. He gets super clingy, super whiny, super needy, and kinda turns into a dick. He needs to be spoiled. You need to treat him like he’s dying and these are his last days. If you try to pull “I can’t kiss you, I’ll get sick”— good luck with trying to get him to stop pouting. Don’t say I didn’t warn you (definitely push multivitamins on him for your sake).

He takes the longest in the bathroom when he’s getting ready. Which is ridiculous because he can simply poof! himself into an image of perfection. You’re starting to think he enjoys how irritated you get when he makes you late.

Also, warning! He’s an attention whore, to simply put it. He likes the spotlight, especially when it’s your spotlight. Shower him with affection please, it’s the only way he’ll ever shut his mouth. He’s not scared of causing a scene if it means he gets to spend some more quality time with you. It’s cute but you hate it.

I don’t make the rules, but Loki definitely shaves his legs in the shower because he likes how smooth they are. If you don’t like it, stay mad about it.

While Loki is fancy as fuck, he does love the outdoors. Earth is a beautiful planet, even if he is reluctant to admit it. He loves nature, specifically green forests, sandy beaches, and wild animals.

Side note: never take this man to the zoo. You thought he’d enjoy it because of his love of animals. He ended up freeing about half the animals in the zoo and breaking into about a dozen of the enclosures.

He does not understand the internet at all. Memes? Yeah, not his cup of tea. Though there has been a handful of times you’ve found him smirking over some internet articles, only to find that he enjoys reading insane “Florida man” stories. And he’s also not above arguing with people on Facebook and Twitter. Be careful though because he will throw his iPad across the room and throw a temper tantrum over some “abstract imbeciles.”

He loves dancing. He loves dancing with you even more. He’s got some pretty good ballroom dancing moves but he’s a little clueless when it comes to hip-hop.

Very protective over you. Almost to a dangerous extent. Definitely the type that’s ready to throw down with the first person that looks at you funny. If you get catcalled, hold this motherfucker back because he’s already got a knife in his hand.

Surprisingly, he likes kids. He’s not particularly sure if he wants to have children himself, but it’s definitely a conversation he’s interested in having with you in the future. If you’re against having children, he’s unbothered. If you’re interested in adding members to your family of two in the future, he’s ready whenever you are.

He’s not a huge fan of pets. Though if you already have a pet when you meet or get a pet as a surprise while you’re together, he’s not too bothered by their existence. Definitely gets jealous of the attention your pet receives though. He fits the role of “I did not want this animal but, for some reason, it loves me the most which means I will kill anyone that dares to hurt it.” You tease him when you catch him playing with the pet he didn’t want.

Also, Loki’s a lightweight. Which you find hilarious, because it is funny even if he pouts every time you tease him. He gets incredibly rowdy when he drinks, expect singing, dancing, and broken glasses. He also gets very touchy so don’t be afraid to bop him on the nose if he’s doing too much.

It takes a few years of Loki exploring Earth’s culture before he grows comfortable with the idea of smoking marijuana. But once you explain to him that it’s perfectly safe and that you’ll be by his side the whole time, he’s open to trying it. When Loki is high, expect lots of flirting, lots of touching, and lots of giggling. Don’t even bother playing a stupid comedy movies because he won’t watch it. He wants to spend this high cuddling you and discussing bizarre subjects. Pray this man doesn’t get the munchies because he’ll clear out your whole kitchen. Keep water on hand because he will definitely complain incessantly if he experiences cotton mouth. But if he’s lucky enough to not have an abnormally dry mouth, he would definitely encourage a lazy make out session.

He will definitely come up with a number of super creative terms of endearment for you, but some of his more generic favorites are sweetheart, darling, dear, and love.

Please please please make fun of his Asgardian accent. Mock him, dress up as him and run around the house pretending to be him. Please!!

He also has a thing for you wearing his clothes. I won’t go in depth (unless you want me to) but it does things to him.

You bought him a multi-color beanie with a pom pom sewn to the top of it. You were able to trick him into wearing it once (you told him it was peak Midgard fashion) but Stark ruined it. If you wear this beanie it will still do things to him.

Please let this man style your hair, or at the very least let him wash it when you shower together. But if you let him style it, he’ll get all giddy. You’ve caught him practicing his braiding technique multiple times.

He will want to spoil you. He doesn’t really understand money, and he definitely doesn’t understand what a budget is. But if he sees something that makes him think of you, he’ll buy it. Maybe even buy several of the same item. Please let him shower you with gifts, it’s one of his love languages.

His other love languages? I’m gonna have to go with all. Definitely a sucker for physical affection, but also won’t turn down a genuine act of service or quality time. Also compliment him. Like, a lot.

( masterlist ) ( reblog to show support 💞 )

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki odinson x reader #loki #loki fanfiction #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston #marvel #my writing #corrupt-fvcker #loki HCs #cw drugs #tw drugs #cw alcohol #tw alcohol

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

calculated ii, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: You pride yourself in being cool, calm, and collected... and then Jeon Jungkook knocks you down a peg. Well, you’re still the head Calculus I TA. The noona. The responsible one. The one who would definitely not misunderstand a situation and then end up fucking in a stairwell... right?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; intense smut (fem reader, semi-public sex, nipple play, tit slapping, fingering, wall fucking, dirty talk); jealousy; fluff; non-idol!AU - university!AU; dom!Jungkook x sub!noona!reader, ft instigator Jimin again, lol

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv

You weren't a jealous person by nature.

Mostly because you had no tolerance for lying, dishonesty, or deceit. In the off chance an ex cheated on you, you dropped them like hot coal and moved on, easily, without so much as a text. Was that the best way to end a relationship? Definitely not, but you did it anyway.

It got you a notorious reputation, to say the least.

So, why, as you're collecting the latest Calculus I exam and students are rushing down the steps to run to their next class, were you absolutely fuming as you spy Jeon Jungkook, tongue between his teeth, talking to a girl who looked like she was going to pass out from arousal by being in his vicinity? Why was your blood boiling, knuckles turning white as you clutch the obscenely thick stack of paper, your only thought being, I'm going to fail this fucking punk ass bitch, just you fucking wait–

"Do you need help?"

You turned your head sharply, missing Jungkook's teasing gaze as Kim Namjoon held his hands out, giving you a sheepish smile. Namjoon was the head Calculus III TA, but he was helping out today since the other Calculus I TAs couldn't make it.

"No."

Namjoon's smile faltered.

"Last time I let you carry these, you dropped them all."

Namjoon laughed sheepishly. "Ahahaha, yeah that did happen, huh?"

You felt bad for snapping at him. It wasn't Namjoon's fault Jungkook was an asshole. It was not Namjoon's fault Jungkook was looking like a goddamn meal in his untucked black dress shirt, ripped black jeans and heavy black boots, his long dark hair half-pinned back with a wispy curtain of black partly obscuring the right side of his face. Not that you cared. At all. You two fucked one time. One, very hot, very intense, very wild time during Calculus I office hours in this very math department building, a few floors above, just last week.

Did you have dreams about it?

...

You shook your head roughly, breaking out of your thoughts. "Come on. Let's go get some coffee. I'll buy," you said, softening your tone this time, grabbing your bag as you hoisted the stack with one arm. You began to walk out, Namjoon following you with his extra-thick backpack.

"I can help you grade. I have some time before my next class."

You laughed. "You, Kim Namjoon, double Literature and Music major and head TA for Calculus III and Physics II, have time?" you teased, seeing his ears turn red.

He chuckled awkwardly as you two made your way to the vending machines. "Okay, I don't have the most time, maybe an hour, but there's a key, right? I'd like to help," he added cheerfully. "Since you're carrying it all."

You smiled and stopped in front of the vending machine, struggling to grab your wallet from the back pocket of your black skinny jeans. Your hands kept getting caught in the long sleeves of your cream sweater. You frowned, trying to balance everything.

"Need help?" Namjoon asked, seeing your brows furrow. He reached for the stack of exams, but you pulled them away from his grasp.

"No, no, I just can't get my wallet. It's in my back pocket."

"... Uh, I could pa–"

"Namjoon, it's an ass. Just take it out. I won't call the police."

He gave you a hesitant look, but you jerked your head impatiently.

"Fucking do it. You're making it weirder," you muttered.

He shrugged and yanked your black bifold wallet out of your back pocket.

"Whatchu want?" You looked into the lit-up shelves, scanning. "Get me a green tea."

Namjoon opened your wallet to grab some bills. He raised his eyebrows.

"I use the same brand myself."

"What?"

You turned your head to see him snickering, pointing to the condom in your wallet. You rolled your eyes at his immature reaction.

"People get laid; get over it," you remarked coolly, but you were smiling anyway because Namjoon had cute dimples that made you laugh too.

He fed some money into the machine. "You should change it out every once in a while, though. Body heat can cause the latex to break down over time."

"I put it in there last week," you said absentmindedly, watching the green tea and the hot coffee Namjoon ordered plunk down. He raised his eyebrows again, but you gave him a pointed look and turned around, presenting your jean-covered butt.

"Put it back."

"What if I need a condom? Can I have it?" Namjoon sniggered.

"Put it back before I kick your ass," you shot back, turning your head to glare at him. A blur of black rushed past in your peripheral vision. Your eyes flickered to the direction of the movement at the same time Namjoon jammed your wallet in your pocket.

You turned back around, cocking your head into the direction of the offices. Namjoon carried the drinks, laughing behind you.

"That would have been weird if anyone was around," he remarked to the deserted hallway.

You shrugged. "Who hangs around the math department besides nerds like you and me?" you muttered, somewhat bitterly.

"Touché."

"You said you needed a ride," you muttered, watching Park Jimin stretch his legs out. It was already completely dark outside. Jimin always practiced such long hours that you often wondered if he slept. Did he even know what sleep was? The fine arts building was empty besides you two.

"I do!" Jimin protested, going into a split that made your own crotch hurt, at least mentally. "But I have to cool down first. It's important!"

You sighed and slid down to the floor as Jimin did his routine. He hummed along as you stared at the bright lights on the ceiling. Your backpack was in the car. You played with the pink bunny keychain on your keys as you waited.

"How did Jungkook go?" Jimin teased, tone playful.

You scowled in response.

"Ouch, that bad huh?" Jimin's head popped into your vision as he bent over backwards. "Does he have a bent dick or something?"

You rolled your eyes. "He's fine," you mumbled. "Just an asshole."

Jimin sat down, placing the soles of his feet together and pressing on his knees. They went all the way to the floor. You winced as you watched, but he seemed fine.

"What'd he do?"

You twisted your mouth to one side. "Doesn't matter. Don't care."

Jimin looked up. He gave you that look mothers give their children when they know they're lying. You relented, grumbling.

"Flirting around right in front of my face."

Jimin blinked at you. "I thought you guys were just fucking?"

You looked away to the mirror of the dance studio. "... We are just fucking. Did, rather."

"Are you jealous?" Jimin gasped in disbelief, scooting over to you gleefully, forgetting about his cool down. "You are!"

"I am not, Jimin. Shut up."

Jimin giggled. "Wow, one fuck and you're in lo–"

You spun around sharply and clapped a hand over his mouth, glaring at him. Jimin's eyes widened at your sudden reaction, blinking at you. You climbed to your knees, towering over him.

"Shut up, Jimin."

"The fuck is going on?"

The clear, silvery voice thundered across the dance studio practice room. You froze, whipping your head around to see Jungkook, in all-black, his pretty features twisted in rage, glaring at you and Jimin on the hardwood floor.

Fight?

Or flight?

You scrambled to your feet and ran. Straight up bolted, right past Jungkook, not hearing him shout at Jimin, completely forgetting you were supposed to take him home.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Jungkook roared, advancing, shoulders shaking.

"Nothing," Jimin snapped, getting to his feet. "Just like you, apparently. Look how fucking fast she ran from you!"

Jungkook grabbed Jimin's collar, shaking him forcefully. "The fuck are you talking about?" he growled, nearly spitting in Jimin's face. "She doesn't even like me, you idiot."

"You're the idiot," Jimin spat back, shoving him hard in the chest. "She literally just admitted to liking you right in front of me!"

Jungkook froze. "W-what?"

"She just now told me she was jealous because you were chatting up other girls," Jimin hissed, looking at him disdainfully. "I would have never helped you if you were going to treat her like a piece of meat."

Jungkook's face fell, anger crumbling into sudden comprehension. "I-I didn't..."

He turned away from Jimin, dropping his car keys as he chased after you, steps much faster and lighter than your erratic stumbling though the fine arts building, nearly tripping on the stairs. You were running so fast that you were making yourself winded, chest so tight you couldn't even breathe.

Jimin sighed and picked up the fallen car keys.

Jungkook jumped over the stair rail, making you recoil and spin around, running back up the stairs. He took them two at a time, slamming a hand against the wall to cut you off. You turned the other way and he stopped you there too, so you ducked under, trying to run. His strong arms grabbed you by the waist and dragged you back, struggling for dear life, hands clawing at the air.

"Stop, stop," Jungkook was panting, but you started squirming against him instead, flattening your torso to try to slide out. He forcefully grabbed your shoulders and shoved you into the wall. You hissed in pain, seeing stars from your lack of oxygen and panic. He held you there, wheezing, grip so strong it almost hurt, as if he was afraid you would run away again.

You felt wetness on your face. You started, touching your cheek. Tears blurred your vision. Jungkook lifted his head, his long black hair tousled and wild from chasing you and, even now, he was handsome. Even now, he made your heart stop.

And then you realized that he, too, was crying.

"J-Jimin..." Jungkook gasped. "Asked me to d-drive him home..."

You sobbed, trying to blink your tears away. "M-me too..."

Jungkook chuckled wetly despite the situation.

"Hah... that bastard..."

You tried to twist away, but Jungkook pushed you into the wall with his chest.

"D-don't..."

And now you were really crying now, so pathetic, so dumb, so stupid you wanted to crawl into a hole and hide, hide your face and your feelings and pretend they didn't exist.

"Don't..."

Jungkook's deep voice vibrated your torso as you furiously wiped your face with the sleeves of your cream sweater, stuffing your eyes with the fluffy material, trying to press them away.

"Don't cry, noona... I can't take it..."

And then he was kissing you, soft kisses on your tears, dripping his own onto your cheeks, and then your lips were on his, so full, so nice, so right, your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer. Everything way too fucking wet, but it didn't matter because his tongue was against yours and you were sucking on it, shivering, whimpering his name, trying not to be pitiful, but what were you supposed to do when he made you feel this way, like you wanted to die in his arms right now?

He whispered your name too, so softly, so desperately that you thought it was just a dream, but he had you against the wall, hands sliding up your sweater, onto your skin, so warm, stroking it and pressing his fingers into your waist, so familiar, teeth nipping at your lower lip.

"J-Jungkook..." you choked out. "We're in the middle of the stairway in the fucking f-fine arts building..."

"Don't care," he murmured, unhooking your bra, his dark hair brushing against your face. You gasped as his palms covered your already hard nipples, his moan against your lips. "Have to remind you you're mine."

He kissed your face again, massaging your breasts, resting his cheek against yours, letting you feel his smile. You closed your eyes, trying to even your breathing.

"Hah... I'm so ugly right now," you mumbled, cursing your weakness, frustrated that only a single meeting with Jeon Jungkook could turn you into this. You didn't believe in stars aligning or any of that romantic bullshit. But the instant Jeon Jungkook pressed his body against yours, you fucking knew. You absolutely knew there was no other body for you, no other body you wanted to dream about, no other person you wanted to touch, no one else you wanted but Jeon Jungkook to force you to your knees and make you look at him, pulling on your nipples, whines leaving your throat as he yanked on them, your own hands pushing your sweater and bra up so he could stare at your body and watch how he ruined you, turning your nipples pink with abuse.

Were you crazy? Probably.

Jungkook spread his legs, leaning down, dark hair half-obscuring his face, lips parting.

"So beautiful, noona..." he breathed, swallowing hard. "You're the only one for me."

You scoffed at his words, hastily wiping your eyes. He pulled at your nipples hard, twisting them and making you yelp in pain.

"Look at me when I speak to you," Jungkook commanded, raw and deep. Voice strained from crying, but his eyes remained dark, flint-like, shaded by his long hair. His eyes traveled down your body, to your knees against the floor, to your nipples straining in his fingertips, to your shaking hands holding up your sweater, to your face, your icy glare rippling through your drying tears. He drew in a long breath, making you wait for him.

"There is no one else," he growled firmly above you, staring into your eyes, right at your soul. "Absolutely no one. I don't care if they're ripping off their clothes and throwing themselves at me, I will always pick you over them. I will always want you over them. I will always, always desire you under me above all others."

You chuckled darkly, feeling his grip tighten.

"We fucked once, Jungkook. Once," you muttered bitterly. He pinched your nipples sharply and you sucked in a breath, wetness pooling in your panties.

"Once is enough," he replied firmly. "Once is enough to know there is no other human being on Earth for me."

Maybe you were both crazy.

He yanked your nipples harder this time. Your body jerked in pain, pressing your thighs together to get some relief.

"Get up."

You got up shakily, with his gentle pulls in your nipples, wincing. Jungkook removed his hands and you sighed in relief, only to be silenced as he pushed up the sleeves of his black dress shirt, breathless as you saw his shapely forearms, the right covered in tattoos. He pressed his right forearm against your collarbone and you released your sweater as he held it up.

"Hands on the arm."

You placed your hands on his forearm, one on his wrist and the other just under his elbow.

"Look at me."

Your eyes flickered up at him. Part of his hair covered his right eye. The rest of his forehead was exposed, brows furrowed, brown eyes intensely on you. His chiseled jaw clenched, lips so pink and pretty you wanted them on you. Your chest was completely exposed, your red nipples hard and poking out in the cold air.

Then he slapped your tits with his own palm.

You gasped sharply, skin stinging, nails digging into his skin. The sound rang in the empty staircase. Your knees shook, panties wetter than before.

"Who is he?"

You swallowed, blinking rapidly. Your nipples prickled with pain but all you could think about was wanting more. "Who?" you croaked.

He smacked you again, right on the other nipple, and you bit your tongue, head pushing into the wall behind you, hissing. Fuck. He wasn't hitting you very hard, but he had a huge palm, expanding the surface area of the sting.

"The guy who touched your ass without my permission," Jungkook snarled, flicking your nipple hard.

Your eyelids fluttered, knees buckling. Fuck. So good. You clutched into Jungkook's arm, panting. His arm was like iron, unmoving.

"Namjoon?" you replied, confused. "H-he was just getting my wallet."

Jungkook narrowed his eyes. Then he raised an eyebrow and his hand, slowly spanking your tits, making sure to hit your swollen, aching nipples each time, getting you wetter and wetter with each slap.

"He wants to fuck you," Jungkook hissed into your face.

You were moaning far too loud, rubbing your knees together, your soaked panties bunching up in your jeans as Jungkook continued, his nails gazing your flesh, leaving red marks and pink skin in his wake.

"B-but I don't want to fuck h-him..." you managed to get out in between your moans.

Jungkook pressed his palm flat against one of your breasts and rubbed hard. Your eyes rolled back in your head, nipple throbbing with pain as he forced it around and around.

"Really?" he sneered, putting his face close to yours as he released your breast and moved to the other, placing his nail on it, scratching lightly. Your hips bucked and a desperate whimper fell from your lips. "Who do you want to fuck then?"

Your eyes locked with his, his impossibly dark, reigning eyes.

"Only you."

He pinched your nipple, hard. You wailed, almost falling, but he held you firm.

"Say my name."

So deep. So in control.

"Only you, Jungkook."

He dropped his right arm and roughly pinched both your nipples, silencing your scream with a suffocating kiss, his clothed chest ramming into your torso. You groaned into his mouth as the rough fabric of his dress shirt touched your sensitive nipples, whimpering as he removed his hands to hold yours. Held them tight as he shoved his tongue into your mouth, thrusting into it, fucking it as if it was his cock. You took it all, fingers intertwining with his, whole body shivering.

He pulled your hands up to his chest, breaking apart for a second.

"Take it off," he panted impatiently. "Need your skin on mine."

You fumbled with the tiny buttons, far too small with how hazy your head was right now. You were rapidly losing your temper, finally just shoving your fingers into the placket and ripping it apart, causing the black buttons to fling everywhere. You pushed the sides of the dress shirt aside, sucking in a breath seeing his toned chest and abs, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him to you, pressing his hot skin against yours, moaning as your abused nipples touched his chest. Jungkook was chuckling, looking at the fallen buttons.

“Are you going to pick those up later?” he asked, amused.

“No,” you snapped.

“Someone will know.”

“You obviously don’t care.”

Jungkook laughed, rumbling and sexy and so very wonderful. “I most certainly do not.”

He let you press your cheek against his collarbones, hands splayed on his back. Tracing his muscles, chest heaving from too many emotions and too much running. You ran your nails down his back. His breathing hitched and he placed a large hand on your head.

“Were you jealous?” he purred, petting your hair. “Because I was talking to that girl after class? Is that why you ran off with that Namjoon guy? To make me jealous too?”

“No,” was your haughty, tight reply.

He hummed. “Really?”

His hand slid down, down your shoulder and to your bare skin. He dug his nails into the small of your back, raking them up. You whimpered, clinging to him tighter. His head dipped low against your ear, voice dropping several octaves.

“Because I was very, very jealous,” Jungkook growled, teeth snapping, every word rousing your lust. “All I could think about all day was how to punish you. My beautiful, slutty noona.”

You sunk your nails into his back, snarling right back.

“It’s your own fault for being so fucking hot that every single person who encounters you has a full-blown orgasm every time they see you, you punk ass bitch.”

You didn’t have to see his face to know he was grinning. “You didn’t. You told me to leave.”

“You didn’t know what was going on in my pants,” you shot back.

“I found out, didn’t I?”

Was it possible to want to choke someone while also wanting to be choked by them? Because that’s how you felt right now, listening to Jeon Jungkook’s stupid, sexy, smug voice in your ear.

“Shut up.”

You felt Jungkook’s body stiffen. Slowly, slowly, he backed up, out of your grasp, his hands leaving your back. You frowned, narrowing your eyes. There was a darkness in his, glaring down at you through his lashes. His lips were slightly parted, no longer smiling. You didn’t waver. His hand came up and took your chin, grip tightening into your cheeks until it was uncomfortable, tipping your head back into the wall. Lips hovering over yours, so close that he could kiss you, but he wasn’t doing it.

“Okay.”

The affirmation made your blood run cold with his unforgiving tone. He placed his lips on yours, but instead of kissing you, he breathed into your mouth, a hot, erotic stream right into the back of your throat, forcing yours back, making you inhale him. You moaned softly, but he retreated just as fast, hooking one arm around you, arching your back forcefully.

“J-Jungkook, what–”

Then he latched his lips onto one of your nipples, flicking it with his tongue, his hand around you rubbing the other as the other gripped the button of your jeans, popping it open. You cried out, hitting your head on the wall, bruising yourself as he yanked the zipper down, shoving his hand under your panties into your tight-jeans. Your nipples for far too sensitive to take more pain and yet Jungkook gave it to you, sucking and rubbing them simultaneously as he shoved one, two fingers into your slopping wet pussy, your moans echoing in the stairway as you stared up, head throbbing. Shocks of pain and pleasure traveled throughout your body, and still he shoved a third finger into you. Your body jerked, trying to spread your legs to accommodate him but your jeans were too tight and he was fucking you too hard, each thrust raising you to your tiptoes. He didn’t even have to stimulate your nipples anymore – they were just rubbing against his teeth and hand by the sheer force of him fingering you.

“A-ah, J-Jungkook, please…” you groaned, grinding into his hand, biting your lower lip hard to try and be a little quieter. “P-please, it’s t-too much...”

His eyes flickered up to you, glaring. You told me to shut up, they said.

“I’m s-sorry…” you panted out, gritting your teeth. “P-please…”

Jungkook detached his mouth, curling his lip. Hand leaving your nipple, tangling into your hair. “Are you really sorry, noona?” he drawled, yanking your head back and exposing your neck. “Are you?”

You whimpered, nodding tightly, his hand still in your hair, forcing you to tug on your own.

“Y-yes, Jungkook,” you breathed, feeling him release your hair. “I’m sorry…”

He smiled at you, an icy smile.

“That’s good.”

You felt him yank your pants down with his free hand, shoving them down to your knees. You almost tripped, but Jungkook grabbed your ass, fingertips digging into you so hard you were sure they would leave marks. He yanked you up, shoving a knee between yours and forcing your legs open. Your eyes went wide, his three fingers flexing inside you. His dark eyes boring into yours, a slow smirk forming on his lips.

“I’m still going to put another finger in you.”

He shoved a fourth into you, forcefully, and now nearly his entire hand was fucking you, pounding you into the wall. Your arms flew up to wrap around his shoulders, desperately holding on as he filled you, pushing his fingers against your walls. You gasped, clenching around his fingers, and Jungkook grinned, watching your face as he pushed you to the edge, feeling so stretched out, so embarrassingly wet that the sounds of your pussy were louder than your noises.

“Fuck, your pussy sounds so sexy,” Jungkook groaned. “Listen to that dirty pussy suck in my fingers, so fucking desperate for my cock.”

You shoved your head against the wall and squeezed your eyes shut, legs straining as you came, muscles spasming and the moan of his name racking through you, your throat already hoarse. He ripped his hand out of you and slapped your clit. Your knees buckled and you whined loudly as he gripped your ass with one wet and one dry hand, spreading it forcefully, pressing you against the wall.

“Take one leg out of your jeans,” Jungkook snarled.

You winced, pussy throbbing, giving him a what-the-fuck look.

“Do it.” He was not going to repeat himself.

You awkwardly kicked one of your sneakers off, untangling your right leg out of your pants. Now you were mostly naked in the fucking stairway with an almost shirtless Jungkook towering over you. Your poor sock fluttered to the floor, lost due to the tight ankle of your skinny jeans.

Jungkook grabbed your calf and pushed it up and out, effectively forcing you to stand on one leg.

“Jungkook, what–”

He hissed, staring at your glistening, puffy, red pussy lips, your hole opening and closing from the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Fuck.”

Jungkook leaned you back into the wall, snaking his hand between your legs, moaning with you as he touched your swollen clit. Slow, languid, deliberate, rubbing your clit in circles, melting you, your eyelids fluttering closed at his sudden sweet movements.

“Wanna fuck you just like this,” Jungkook breathed, inhaling your scent. “Just like this, against the wall, in this fucking stairway, your leg around my waist.” He pressed harder, earning a wretched whimper. “Want someone to find us and see you bouncing on my cock, fucked out and screaming my name.”

Your legs trembled, trying to close, but he held them open, teasing you, drawing your next orgasm out of you, slow this time, building you into a frenzy.

“Just do it,” you gasped. “Just fucking do it.”

“I want to,” he hissed back, rubbing faster. “I didn’t bring a fucking condom.”

You chuckled despite yourself, hips shuddering into his hand. “Didn’t think you were going to fuck Jimin or something?”

Jungkook narrowed his eyes at you and pinched your clit. Instantly you yelped, your standing knee buckling, but his own slammed against yours, locking it in place. You gasped at the pain, your pussy clenching around nothing as he furiously rubbed your clit. Your insides curled and you gulped for air, feeling the pain and pleasure rise into a crescendo.

“What if I stop, noona?” Jungkook barked sharply. “Since you’re being such a fucking brat.”

You clenched your jaw, trying to push back your own orgasm, relishing in his anger.

“I have a condom,” you panted, giving him an open-mouthed smirk. “Keep one in my wallet now, j-just for you, Jungkook.”

You saw something in his eyes change, something between an amused sparkle and an agonizing lust.

“Is that so?” Jungkook purred, bringing his face close to yours. His breath lit your skin on fire, the tense knot closing in on you fast as he rubbed you even faster, so fast that it felt like a vibrator on your aching clit. “So, you can always be prepared for me? So, I can take you wherever, whenever I want?”

You bit your lip, nodding, eyes glazing over as the first wave crashed on you.

“Fuck yeeeeees, Jungkook, whatever you fucking want,” you moaned, back arching, legs shuddering, letting him rub you as your hips jerked. Viscous liquid dripping down your thighs, pussy pulsating wetly, hands flat against the wall. He was going to be the death of you, making you agree to such crazy things in the middle of your fucking orgasm.

Jungkook let go of your leg. You leaned against the wall, trying to catch your breath, pretty sure all this was going to get you expelled. Even if there was no one in the building, someone down the street probably heard you by now with how loud this was becoming. You heard rustling under you, Jungkook going through your pockets on the floor to find your wallet, pulling out the condom.

“You’re actually insane,” you panted, blinking slowly as you watched Jungkook unzip his jeans, shoving them down. “I can’t even stand.”

Fuck, even just him pulling out his half-hard cock was already getting you wet again. Jungkook smirked at you, seeing your eyes on him. He stroked the length slowly, running his large hand over it. You frowned at him, tapping your hand against the wall in annoyance.

“I’m giving you a break,” he murmured, staring at your body as he gripped his cock, pumping once. He gasped, breathing your name.

“At least let me touch it,” you pouted, not even sure how you were still upright. Just pure lust, apparently.

Jungkook looked at you through his lashes, lips parting, tongue darting between them. He thrust his hips into his hand. You stiffened, seeing his wanton, arrogant expression. He wasn’t going to let you touch it. He was going to make you watch, frustrated, as he stroked himself to full hardness.

“Jungkook…”

He cocked an eyebrow at you, rolling his body into his hand, moaning softly.

“Jungkook, please…”

His tongue danced between his lips, moving his hand up and down slowly, rocking his hips into his cock, enjoying your pleading tone, your hands clenching into fists, your body heaving at the loss of him.

“Jungkook, come on,” you whined, spreading your legs, watching the angry red head disappear and reappear in the curve of his fingers. “I want you. Please.”

He took a step towards you, still stroking himself. “Yeah?” he breathed. Another step. And another. He still didn’t tell you that you could touch him yet, so you kept your hands at your sides, switching between his dark, lustful eyes and his rapidly hardening cock thrusting into his hand. “You want me, noona? You want to touch my cock?”

And now Jungkook was right next to you, still jacking himself off, the velvety, thick head rubbing against the smooth skin of your thigh. You moaned as you felt his pre-cum smearing onto your skin, adding to his lubrication.

“Y-yes,” you whispered, eyes glued to his cock rubbing against your fucking leg. Fuck, you wanted it in your mouth so bad. “Let me touch you, Jungkook.”

He leaned forward, lips brushing against your ear, his dark locks brushing against your cheek. His voice was a deep drawl, low and teasing, breath hot against your skin.

“Tell you what,” Jungkook purred. “I’ll let you put the condom on.” You whimpered, disappointed. “And then I’ll fuck you against this wall, nice and hard and fast, not stopping until I cum because of that delicious, sweet, tight pussy of yours.”

If you had any sanity left, it rapidly disappeared as you nodded hastily, wordlessly holding out your hands as Jungkook dropped the condom in your palm. He calmly removed his hand, his thick, fully hard cock erect as you slid the condom down, moaning as you felt the traces of his veins and muscle pulsing under your hands. Once you were done, Jungkook pushed your hands away, not giving you a chance to disobey him.

You pouted. “You’re a jerk.”

He grinned at you, lifting your leg and pinning it to your chest. “And you’re about to get fucked.”

In less than a second, Jungkook thrust his hips up and into you, tearing a gasp from your throat as he rapidly entered you, peeling apart your soaking, abused walls. You bit your tongue, grabbing his dress shirt as he rolled his hips into you again, groaning as he felt you clench around him.

“That’s it, noona,” he exhaled, slamming his hips into you. “You better fucking hold me tight. If I slip out, that’s all the fucking you’ll get from me.”

You whined, feeling him start a bruising pace, hands clamped onto your ass. Whether he was lying or not didn’t matter because you were squeezing your pussy for dear life, crying out as he thrust into you over and over, so full and overstimulated you didn’t know whether to focus on your aching, raw pussy or his cock periodically throbbing inside you, swelling against your walls.

You hooked your leg around his waist, changing the angle, instantly feeling him ram his cock into a deeper, more pleasurable spot. You tipped your head back, eyes rolling up into your head as your mouth opened, tongue sliding out. He pounded you relentlessly, your shoulder blades smacking the wall. Your swollen clit rubbed against the base of his cock repeatedly. Your body was going to ache all over tomorrow, but you still rose your hips to meet his, so drunk on the feeling of his cock stretching you out that nothing else mattered. You came suddenly, wailing Jungkook’s name, pussy spasming and squeezing him but he set his jaw and fucked you even harder, using every ounce of his energy to keep his own orgasm at bay.

“Who owns this body, noona?” he ground out. “Tell me, who owns this fucking body?”

You had to claw for your words, throat so strained your voice was thin. “Y-you do, Jungkook, oh fuck, oh fuck…”

“That’s fucking right,” he growled. “If you cum, it’s for me and only me. No. One. Else.” He punctuated each word by slapping his hips into you, sliding you up into the wall so gravity crashed you back down onto his cock. You moaned, helpless, as he hissed, shoving his face into your tits to moan hotly into your chest as he came, violent, thick jerks of his cock shuddering into you. Quickly, he gripped your hips and pulled up, hissing as half of his cock slid out, cum leaking out of the bottom of the condom and splatting onto the floor.

“Fuck,” he gasped. “Fuck.”

You could barely register anything as he hoisted you onto his shoulder, cursing loudly. Jungkook leaned against the wall with one shoulder, panting, the other half-carrying you, arm wrapped around your waist. The only thing that brought you back to reality was the fact that your bare ass was in the air and your pants were hanging off one leg.

“Jungkook,” you croaked. “Let me down.”

He lowered you, still leaning against the wall, trying to catch his breath. His hair covered almost his whole face, sweaty and glistening. He wiped some sweat off his chin with the back of his hand, flicking it away carelessly.

You pressed your back flat against the wall, using at as leverage to pull your pants back up, wincing at the now familiar cold feeling of your soaked panties meeting your abused pussy. You crouched to collect your sock and your shoe, wincing as pain radiated up your back.

Jungkook chuckled, watching you struggle with your sneaker. “Want help?”

You grunted, shoving it on. “Can we stop fucking in random ass places at school?”

“You said I could fuck you wherever I want, whenever I want,” he teased, giving you an open-mouthed smirk.

You readjusted your bra, putting it back on. You found the two bits of condom wrapping, shoving it in your pocket. “I did, but I want to see you fully naked for once, you punk.”

Jungkook laughed, rich and full. “I support this idea if you’re also fully naked.”

You made a face as you got up, trying to keep your steps steady so you didn’t seem like a drunk idiot. Or someone who just got railed by Jeon Jungkook.

“Give me the condom.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “I was going to drop it here. Mark my territory.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and took it from him as he extended his hand out. “Your buttons did that for you already,” you remarked, tying it up.

He smirked, zipping up his jeans. “You owe me a new shirt.”

“And you owe me new panties, again,” you shot back. “Where are my replacements?”

He shrugged, running a hand through his hair to push it back. Fuck. Open shirt, half-exposed forehead, smug-as-fuck Jungkook got you wet just by looking at him.

“Guess we should go shopping sometime.”

He smiled slyly, patting his pockets. His expression abruptly changed to confusion. He pulled out his wallet and phone, frowning. “Where are my car keys?” He furrowed his brow, looking at his phone. You found your keys and wallet still with you, surprised that they didn’t fall out of your pants. You phone was in your backpack, still in your car. He swiped at his phone, reading his messages.

Jungkook groaned. “I dropped them and Jimin took my car. Bastard.”

Fuck, his fucking deliciously toned and tan chest was distracting you. “I still have my keys,” you muttered, staring at his abs. Suddenly you started, realizing he was advancing on you.

“Oh?” Jungkook purred, opening his shirt wider. The fabric tumbled off his right shoulder, exposing his tattoos. His long dark hair covered part of his right eye, brown orbs glimmering with mischief.

“Wanna take me home, noona?”

Welp.

part iii

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic

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