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juneknight · 7 months

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One and One and One

Kink: cuckolding

Layla/f!reader/Marc

Features: cuckolding, cumming untouched, strap-ons, oral sex, mentions of safewords.

“Can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Marc murmurs beneath his breath as you cuff his hands behind his back to the slats of the chair. One of his ankles are cuffed to the chair legs—though why he and Layla only have one cuff, you have no idea. This is the closest you’ve ever been to Marc. Close enough that you can see his every eyelash, the different dark hues in his irises, the little indentation in the tip of his nose. As close as you are, you know that he is scrutinizing you as well, dark eyes sweeping over the plains of your face. You wonder if he can feel the heat being thrown off by your cheeks.

“I didn’t talk you into this,” you remind him shyly. “Layla did.”

Marc’s mouth—full and pink and so fucking soft looking—quirks upward at the edges. “I can’t believe you let her talk you into this.”

“Me either,” you admit dryly.

You can’t, really. You and Layla had been friends for so many years—and yes there had been a few nights when you were younger that you had explored each other physically and romantically, but it had been so long. When she came to you and admitted Marc had this fantasy, and that her only caveat was that you be their partner. Did she know about your (harmless!) little crush on Marc? Surely she knew about your (even more harmless!) crush on her.

Regardless, if Layla’s stories were anything to go by, she and Marc got up to some very kinky stuff.

Have you ride Layla while Marc watched might take the cake, though.

“Getting friendly?” Layla asks when she comes in, wearing only one of her satin-silky robes, the hem of which brushes just above her knees. You can see her hard nipples through the fabric. Layla loves having her breasts stimulated—suckled, nibbled, fondled. Maybe she’ll let you do more than just ride her strap-on before the night is over.

“I’m having second thoughts,” Marc says lowly, eyes flickering back and forth between the two of you. “Mostly thinking that I’m an idiot for agreeing to let myself be tied up when you’re both in the room having sex.”

“You know your safeword,” Layla says with a grin. She looks to you and mouths ‘Moon’. You nod to let her know you understand. Her smile only grows at your obedience. Turning to face you head-on, she lets her hands fall to your hips. She ducks her head and kisses you, and you are already moaning into her mouth. Layla kisses like she does everything in life: with honed practice, with passion. You hear the cuffs rattle as Marc fights against his bonds, and it only makes you realize how wet you are, how wet you have been all night, so eager for dinner to be over so that the three of you could begin this.

“Fuck,” Marc groans. “Untie me. Let me out.”

“No,” Layla says after parting from you reluctantly. You chase her mouth a little and she laughs at how desperate you are.

“Fucking—I mean it Layla!”

“He likes to be a little brat,” Layla whispers to you conspiratorially. Her hand comes up to cup your cheek. “But you—you’re my good girl, aren’t you?”

You nod, feeling struck dumb by her.

“Let’s find you a nice big cock get fucked by, huh?” she says with a grin, her cheeks flushed warm and eyes glittering with mirth and mischief. She goes to the bed where the different dildos lay out like hor’dourves to be sampled. They are all of different length or girth or color, some textured, others smooth. Whispering just loud enough for Marc to hear, she asks: “Shall we choose one that’s bigger than his? So that we can feel what it’s like to really get fucked?”

“I’ll show you what it’s like,” Marc vows darkly.

“I wouldn’t know which to pick,” you admit. It’s not as if you’ve ever seen Marc’s cock.

“Hmm, my choice, then,” she says, tapping her chin. At last she settles on a monster—if she truly was trying to find one that was bigger than Marc’s and this was her last resort, then Marc must be pretty well hung. You can’t help but glance toward him, taking in the picture he makes. Dressed in only his jeans and the white t-shirt he had changed into after spilling soy sauce on his dress-shirt at dinner, his muscles bulge against his bonds as he tests them again and again. His eyes are unfathomably dark, his breaths fast and shallow.

His cock, hard and pressing at the denim confines. When his eyes meet yours, you feel liable to explode. You turn away quickly, just as Layle focuses on you. She undresses you with gentle, tender touches, pausing every now and then to stroke a new expanse of skin until you sigh with pleasure.

When she works the lacy little set of panties down your hips, she holds them up to Marc like a spoil of war, her expression smug.

“Be a good boy, or I’ll gag you with these,” she warns him. Marc opens his fucking mouth. Layla breathes an incredulous little laugh. “Oh, you want them anyway? Proactive. What a good little slut you make, baby.”

She goes to him and feeds the scrappy piece of lace into his mouth. Stepping aside, she rifles through the bedside drawer for a moment to find a ball with a bell inside. She presses it into his hand: a non-verbal safe word. His knuckles stand out as he grips the ball tightly, perhaps silently trying to show that he wouldn’t be dropping it—not for anything.

Layla comes back to you and kisses you until you’re dizzy. Her hands trace along you, relearning the plains of your body the way they did all those years ago when the two of you first explored each other and your sexualities. Her fingers are nimble when they find your nipples, plucking at them softly in a way that has you breaking from her mouth to gasp. Your head turns and you take in the sight of Marc: his hard cock an impressive bulge in his pants, your panties in his mouth, his eyes heavy-lidded and burning hot.

Then Layla’s hand slips down between your thighs and you nearly shout as two of her fingers swipe through your folds, finding your aching clit and smearing your own arousal against it. “Oh Marc,” says Layla, looking to him with a wide grin. “She is so, so wet.”

Marc makes a pathetic little sound. This bit of weakness is like blood in the water to the shark inside Layla. She slips away from you again, holding up her soaked fingers for him to inspect in the dim lighting. Then she smears them across his parted lips, knowing that he will be unable to taste you with your panties in his mouth. Marc’s eyes roll back; he is the picture of tortured ecstasy.

“Fuck, Layla,” you whine, rubbing your thighs together. “Come on, please…”

She slaps Marc’s chest softly. “See what you made me do? I’m neglecting our girl.”

You shiver at those words, at being called their girl. God, this is only meant to be a one-time thing, but you have known for so long that no time with Layla would ever be the last time. Flushed warm with her ownership, you drop down onto your knees and crawl to her, heart pounding at the way Marc groans at the sight. You sit on your heels and open your mouth, a silent invitation.

Layla’s fingers stroke your face softly. “I have two little sluts…you want to suck my cock, baby?”

“Uh-huh,” you breathe, mouth open. She rests two fingers on your tongue and you suck softly.

“I’ll let you suck my dick—on one condition.”

“Anything,” you mumble around her fingers. She removes them and takes your chin in her hand, your own saliva smearing across your cheek as she tilts your eyes up to her.

“When you suck my cock, I want you to pretend it’s Marc’s.”

Marc’s groan is mirrored by your own. Your eyes flicker to him, your face burning hot. His eyes are wide and dark, tracing over the plains of your face. Beneath the lust, you can almost see the question: would you do this? If you did agree to do this—why? Marc has no idea that feelings that have started to grow inside you the day that Layla introduced you both.

You didn’t know that Layla had any idea either. But when your eyes flicker back up to her, you see the warmth in them, the silent assurance. She wants you to do this. Almost as badly as you do.

Instead of turning away, you press out your tongue. The perfect place for her to rest the head of her fake cock. Your eyes flutter shut as you try to imagine it the way she says, to imagine that this is Marc’s cock you’re sucking. Instead of plastic, there would be warm, soft skin. Velvet overlaying steel. His smell would be all around you, that earthy shower gel he uses (and you use, sometimes, when you stay the night. Just to smell like him).

Marc would feed his cock past your lips til the fat head nudges against the back of your mouth at the entrance of your throat, and still you would want more, swallowing your drool tilting your head to hopefully be able to take more of him into your mouth. Fingers twine into your hair, and it only enhances your fantasy when they guide you up and down their cock, using your mouth for their own pleasure. That is how Marc would be; you’re sure of it: confident, entitled, even as he is gentle.

A choked sound catches your attention, jolting you from this little fantasy. Layla pulls your head back by your hair, and both of you turn to look at Marc whose head is thrown back, arms straining at his bonds. A growing stain at the tented crotch of his jeans…

“Oh my god, baby, did you just cum? Did you just fucking cum?” Layla asks, voice growing higher with barely restrained glee. Her thumb swipes over your swollen lips, but you can’t even turn to look at her, not when Marc’s face is red, his chest heaving, his cock still twitching in his pants as he just watched Layla fuck your mouth.

Marc groans, writhing more. His demand is clear. He wants out.

Layla turns your head up so that you meet her eyes again. They are warm, pupils huge with arousal and the dim lighting. She grins, pretty mouth stretching wide with joy.

“He wants me to set him free—but we’re not finished yet, are we love?”

You shake your head. No, the night is just beginning—even for Marc.

#marc spector x reader #marc spector x layla el faouly #marc spector x layla el faouly x reader

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punkassfrance · 12 days

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Light Of Day - Part II - Tess/Fem!Reader

This chapter is explicit! MDNI! In which Tess' actions come back to haunt her. This work contains drinking, oral sex, and general criminality. ~3.3k words. Part I

She wallows for a while after that.

Well, not all that much changes. She’s hesitant to leave her apartment even without the humiliation of being caught—even though nobody was around to see what had happened, it was bad enough for just her to see. She doesn’t even consider whatever punk tried to attack that night—if he knows who she is, he knows not to fuck with her. No, he doesn’t matter, but her girl saw what happened. Damn it all. She’ll probably have to stop calling her that, too.

She switches to the small stock of instant coffee she keeps for special occasions, just for the week. There’s still a healthy splash of booze in the mug, naturally. Some things just don’t change.

There’s a chance what happened hasn’t been spread. Her girl doesn’t have much in the way of friends, after all—she knows that much. There’s a chance her dignity is more or less intact, her reputation untouched. Still, she can’t quite bring herself to check.

The kid across the hallway takes her cards and brings back rations. He skims a little off the top every time, butshe doesn’t kick up a fuss about it. Just writes it off as a delivery fee, or a tip, or even charity from what she knows of the kid’s family. She has enough to spare anyway. If she wanted, Tess could hide away for at least a year without selling a damn thing.

He should be back in an hour or so, as she thinks of it. Time kind of blends together when she does this- hides away from the world, watches through her little window. She’s seen her girl enter and exit the market a few times now, glancing around nervously as she should, but never looking up. Never up, thank god.

There’s a knock at her door.

She didn’t think the kid would be back with groceries so soon. He usually takes his time to avoid drawing attention. She doesn’t care one way or another, of course. As long as she gets what she paid for. “Give me a second, kiddo.”

She sets her coffee down on the countertop and reaches for a pair of basketball shorts on the couch, tugging them on before she gets the door. As much as she loves lounging around in her underwear, the poor kid doesn’t need to see that.

Clutching a lead pipe in her free hand just in case, she opens the door with a blank expression.

It’s frozen on her face when she sees her girl standing before her, shuffling her feet and pressing her lips together.

Neither of them speak, for a moment.Tess blinks, mouth falling just slightly open as she processes what’s before her. The girl looked up when the door opened, watching Tess from under her eyelashes as they took in each other’s presence.

It’s tempting to just close the door- just walk away from this situation with what’s left of her dignity, avoid confronting her childish bullshit for as long as possible.

That’s exactly what it is, isn’t it? Childish. She grimaces as the situation sets in, eyes darting around looking for some way to escape without making an even bigger mess of the situation.

“Took a lot of cards to find you,” the girl mutters after a long moment, mouth twisted up to the side as she watches the floor, like she knows exactly what Tess is thinking. If Tess manages to get out of this and they had nothing else to discuss, she would at least have to find out who talked.

“...that’s intentional.” She’s gone to great lengths to hide away from the world, to make herself a hard woman to find. Anyone looking to find her would have to look pretty damn hard, especially with the mere strands of information the girl would have had.

Before she can think about it, she steps back and holds the door open, eyes glued to the ground. The girl steps inside, glancing around, anywhere but at Tess. Once the door shuts, she doesn’t immediately lunge or reach for a weapon. It’s not much, but it’s slightly reassuring. Tess leans the pipe up against the doorframe and crosses her arms.

“...you’re Tess.”

It’s not a question, but Tess nods anyway.

“I guess I should thank you for saving me. And for all the, ah…” she trails off as she turns to face Tess, carefully looking up to meet her eye. Tess nods.

Now that the secret’s out, she realizes how creepy this probably is. It started out innocent enough; she just wanted to offer something to add a little light to the girl’s day, let her know someone…

“I can stop.”

She doesn’t get a response to that, only silence as she looks around the apartment. The sun is in her chair by now—if she didn’t have a guest, she’d be sitting there, sans shorts, finishing off her coffee, basking in the sun. She doesn’t stop the girl from meandering over to the window, leaning over the chair and catching a glimpse of the market view. Looking back up to Tess, she scuffs the ground with her boot.

“...what do you want from me?”

“What do you want from me?” Tess can’t help herself from snapping just a bit, crossing her arms. “You haven’t humiliated me enough?”

“Humiliated you?” She raises an eyebrow, glancing up at the ceiling as she thinks. “If I remember right, all I did was open the door. If you’re embarrassed, that’s not on me.”

They’re both silent again, each of them back to avoiding eye contact.

“What do you want from me? If you’re trying to pay me for something, I don’t know what it is. I can’t offer you anything.” Her eyes widen, hands raised.

Oh.

She hasn’t made her intentions clear. Here’s a chance to correct that—or a chance to back out. Before she can decide what to do with the misunderstanding, she can’t help herself.

“You think I’m trying to pay you?”

The girl looks lost and exasperated as her theory falls apart, and goes back to looking around once again. Still, she doesn’t try to attack. Tess stays rooted to the ground.

“...why else would you give me shit?”

She stares at the girl, taking in the first real look at her face. It’s not obscured by a window, a hood, weather, or the corner of her own eye as she tries to be coy. Her usual silence, easily mistaken for shyness, has been replaced with distress. Tess should have known the anomaly of a random gift would have set her on edge. But those thoughts are far off, on the back burner of her mind. Christ, she’s a vision.

The look on her face must betray her as realization dawns.

“I’ll stop.” Tess mumbles, gritting her teeth.

“You-”

Tess jerks open the door beside her, stepping aside and watching the ground, furious with herself as her face heats up. “I’ll stop.”

That would be the end of it, then. Tess would sell off her box of gifts, respectfully look away when the girl entered the market, and never know her middle name or how she liked her coffee. She would likely never know those things anyway, but it was a nice fantasy to hold on to while she had it. It felt ridiculous, sure, but it was easy enough to justify- everyone needs a thought to fall asleep to, right? Some small comfort in a world of terrors? There was no harm in it. And now it’s over.

A soft hand rests on the wooden door, pushing it shut. Tess can’t bring herself to look up.

“Is it Tessa?”

Tess looks up, eyebrow raised. She’s watching, lips pressed together as she waits for an answer.

“Theresa.” The few girlfriends she’s had over the years called her Tessa on occasion, but that doesn’t feel like what she’s asking.

“Theresa,” the girl repeats, giving her a slow once-over. She doesn’t look nearly as confused as she did just moments ago. Meanwhile, Tess is sure she’s lost the plot. Her brow knits together, lip slightly curled, as she tries to figure out what exactly the girl is getting at. “From what I’ve heard, you’re not exactly shy. Did you just…not want to talk to me?”

“I…” She’s not sure how to explain herself. She never really questioned what she was doing or felt the need to justify herself. She thought nobody would ever ask why. Why would they? Her head shakes vacantly, still denying the situation. “I’ll stop.”

“I didn’t ask you to stop.” She steps forward, silently coercing Tess away from the door. Tess lets the girl herd her a few feet back into the apartment, curious to see where this is going. “Asked why you didn’t just talk to me.”

One hand comes up to Tess’ shoulder, guiding her up against the wall. She lets it happen.

“Didn’t want to scare you off.”

“You think you’re scary?”

Her immediate instinct is of course. It feels like a stupid question—she fucking runs Boston on reputation alone by now, men twice her size have nightmares about her, even Joel caves to her.

But her girl might not know about all of that.

To her, Tess is just a mystery. Some random, anonymous older woman with a very strange way of flirting. Some part of her demands a rabid correction—I think I’m fucking terrifying. You should too. But if this goes her way, if she really has a shot with this girl… that might not be the first impression she wants to make. The whole reason she put herself through these hoops was to avoid scaring her. Why come all this way just to blow it when she’s so close? So close to…something.

“I think people are scared of me.”

The girl tilts her head, reaching up to push a few strands of hair out of Tess’ face. Her cool fingers skim over the freckles on Tess’ cheek, the first kind touch she’s received since her last fling wanted more than she could give. She melts at it more than she’ll admit, looking down at the hand in the corner of her eye. The feeling in her chest is almost forgotten, but not fully lost. Defrosting.

She takes Tess’ hands in her own, running her thumbs over the marred skin, and pulls them forward. Tess stays stubbornly pressed against the wall as her hands are brought to rest on the girl’s waist, flesh giving way as she curls her fingers on instinct.

“I think you’re scared.” She’s close to a whisper as her arms loop around Tess’ neck, pulling them together. As though she didn’t just throw out an accusation that could easily get Tess killed.

Maybe she meant it as a challenge, maybe she didn’t. Regardless of what she hoped to accomplish, all it does is make something coil tight in Tess’ chest.

She breaks.

The girl’s lips are so soft. She’s pictured this many times, while falling asleep, zoning out on a shift, listening to the rain on her window. Despite the corner she’s backed Tess into, she’s modest with her affection, both of them getting a sense of the other before they move forward. As the girl sinks into her, her hesitations fizzle out as if they never existed at all. Tess’ arms wrap around the girl’s waist, one supporting her upper back as she pushes off from the wall. Her girl arches the small of her back, hips pressing into Tess as they stumble together to the couch.

Her girl isn’t exactly shy, but Tess doesn’t hold back. It’s not long before they’re kissing like this isn’t their first time—like they’ve been together for months, years even, like this is just one of many nights with each other. Like they’ll have all the time in the world to do it again, and again, and again.

A hand teases at the edge of Tess’ tank top- she lets the girl wander, lets her explore the skin beneath with a mild hand, but she pulls away for only a moment to mutter, “Leave it on.” If this is her only shot, she’s not about to waste it on her own pleasure.

Once Tess has laid her on the futon, she raises her arms, spread out for Tess like she’s not scared in the slightest. Like she carries no regard for the cross of a reputation Tess bears—like she’s trustworthy.

“My name-”

“I know your name.”

Tess cuts her off, kissing across her collarbones as she chuckles. “Bit of a stalker, huh?”

Looking up from under her eyelashes, Tess shrugs impassively, tugging the girl’s shirt off and onto the floor. The fabric is worn and thin, soft under Tess’ hands.

“Just… took an interest.”

“Should I be nervous?” The girl smirks, undoing the button on her jeans with one hand, stroking Tess’ hair with the other.

“Oh, very.” Tess nips at the supple skin of her breast, leaving behind a barely noticeable mark. Her knee nestles up between the girl’s legs, something firm for her to grind down on. She takes advantage, eyes flickering shut as she exhales. It’s the first visible sign of pleasure Tess has pulled from her, and she quickly remembers how enticing the feeling of success is. So quickly it grows on her, sidles up alongside her veins, making itself at home with her desire. It’s almost parasitic, something new and demanding inside her that will never part.

Her girl pulls away before long, giving Tess the chance to tug her jeans off and push them aside. She takes a moment to admire what she sees before moving on; gray cotton panties, worn thin with loosening elastic along the waistband, dewy wetness gathering in the defined notch Tess can trace with her fingers. She does, roughened fingertips testing the slight give of her flesh, how it yields to her touch. All motion has stopped, her girl now frozen on the couch, barely breathing at the touch. When Tess notices, her fingers stop, forcing a breath out of the girl.

“You’re a fucking tease.” She whispers as her chest falls, tucking her thumbs into the waistband of her underwear. “Do something or I’m going home and getting myself off.”

“No, you won’t.” She pushes the girl’s hands away and begins the slow tug to remove her underwear, world narrowing to the sight. Thin, faded stretch marks adorn the skin she runs over, the swell of her thighs resisting the drag of the fabric ever so slightly. It’s mesmerizing, especially the stretched seconds of the gusset pulling off her already soaked cunt. “I don’t think you’re going anywhere,” Tess whispers, the girl’s panties hanging off her finger before she sets them down on the coffee table. She won’t be getting them back, whether she likes it or not. “You didn’t come all this way to just go home and get yourself off.”

She backs up on the couch, positioning the girl’s legs over her shoulders and adjusting until she’s comfortable. It’s familiar, muscle memory by now, even if she hasn’t taken anyone to bed in some time now. It doesn’t matter—she couldn’t forget this if she tried. Tess kisses the skin of her thighs before licking up her slit, gathering the wetness on her lips before pushing forward.

Tess has to hold her hips tight to keep her stable on the couch, the girl’s back arching as Tess buries herself between her legs. She sounds like she can’t quite catch her breath, fighting to exhale as Tess refuses to let up. One leg kicks at the air behind Tess’ head before curling into her back, pressing her closer; she finally breathes out a broken moan as Tess circles around the girl’s clit. She feels fingers on her hairline, cautiously pushing up until her girl has a bit of control over Tess’ head. She doesn’t take advantage of it, just keeps both of them steady, keeps Tess where she wants to be.

“Tess—” the girl mewls, shuddering as tension builds. Her muscles threaten to cramp under Tess’ fingers, legs held out of the way. She pushes her tongue inside as she mindlessly works out the kinks and knots in the girl’s thighs. She responds with a harsh tug on Tess’ hair, one she’s tempted to punish, but she’s willing to let it slide for the wail she lets out. No sense in getting too… depraved. Not when it’s the first time really has the girl’s attention.

The girl audibly chokes and squeezes her legs around Tess when she cums, ankles locking behind her. Tess buries her tongue further inside, not daring to change a thing. If this is the last time she gets to speak to her, the last episode of this weird little situation they’ve made for themselves, she’s not going to ruin it. She exhales in relief as she feels the grip on her hair tighten, then ease. They sit there for a moment after she stops trembling, Tess’ head tilted against her thigh, watching her chest rise and fall. The hand on her head gently releases her hair, brushing through the bands of gray and pushing them out of her face. She’s not looking down at Tess, one arm tossed over her eyes as she recovers.

She almost wonders if her girl has dozed off—her breathing is rhythmic and steady, she makes no effort to move or address Tess. Still, she can’t complain. There’s a strong possibility that she’ll never see the girl again, neither of them will ever stoop to this low again. Tess, with her stupid crush, and her girl, fucking a borderline stalker. As much as she hates to admit that that’s what she is.

After a few minutes of silence, she starts to shift. Tess sits up to give her room to move. Looking over to the coffee table, she grabs a hair tie, pulling half of her hair back out of her face. She probably should have done this sooner, but she likes to give her partners something to grip on to—tt’s part of the fun. She also takes a cigarette off the table, lighting it up and taking a drag as the girl sorts through her clothes on the floor. Tess catches the moment when she sees her panties on the table, looks over to Tess in the corner of her eye, and stands to pull her jeans on. She’s glad she doesn’t say anything—those belong to Tess now, one way or another.

She fights with the breaking clasps of her bra before Tess stands and helps her, smoothing her hands over the straps and fixing a twist where she wouldn’t be able to reach. The girl lingers before picking up her shirt, looking at Tess over her shoulder and smiling before bending at the waist. It puts them in a suggestive position as Tess’ hand drags down her skin, settling on the small of her back, her other hand holding the cigarette off to the side. Tess tries to commit the sight to memory, just a few seconds to keep to herself when this fledgling affair dies quietly in the water.

When she stands and pulls her tank top back on, she turns and tucks two fingers into Tess’ waistband, pulling her in.

“Am I out of your system by now?”

Tess looks over her again, eyeing her with a starving gaze. “Not a chance.”

The girl gets up on her toes one more time to kiss Tess, wrapping an arm around her neck to pull her in. “You know where to find me. Next time, I might just let you in.”

With that, she turns and walks out the door, shutting it behind her before Tess can say a word.

At LAST, I finished it! Got this request MONTHS ago, but writer's block is a bitch. I'm technically open to a part III, but I have other projects in mind, so it's not super likely. Feel free to say hi or drop your thoughts in my askbox, check out my AO3 or my about me if you're interested!

#the last of us #fanfiction #tess servopoulos #tess x reader #tess servopoulos x reader #x reader #tlou tess #tess/reader #tess #tess servopoulos/reader #tess tlou #tlou #tess the last of us #the last of us hbo

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carriesthewind · 2 years

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Oh, Ana.

So AM (if you are found this, you know who he is) has been in some hot water recently over the fact that apparently he’s been facilitating America’s machinery of death and war for years while publicly positioning himself as a social justice activist.

Before I begin: it is unfortunate that the reason this was discovered is because a bunch of The Worst People on the Internet targeted him. That sucks, and I’m sure that he is currently receiving a lot of really scary harassment (in addition to bad faith attacks). I am genuinely sorry for him for that, and I hope it passes quickly and he emerges with as few scars as possible.

HOWEVER.

Ana’s “analysis” has long been a turd in the punch bowl of progressive media criticism spaces. And so I am taking the opportunity to celebrate him leaving twitter by looking at a recent-ish media “deconstruction” post that he wrote. This is partially petty point-and-laugh schadenfreude, but with the added point that Ana’s analysis is extremely bad, always, and even when he makes good points or important arguments, he makes them badly and without appropriate care.

So let’s jump right in. This is a post he made on his blog titled ��Animation: Villain Eyeshadow.” I’m not quoting the entire post, just the parts I’m responding to, so I would encourage you to find the post and follow along if you want the full picture.

Ok, setting up what we are looking at here. He is going to, in a post labeled “deconstruction,” talk about queer-coded and female villains in animation through the lens of eyeshadow. It ends up being less about villains and more about sympathetic vs. non-sympathetic characters (including villains), but in fairness, this isn’t an academic essay, so I will give him a pass on the way the post shifts from its initial premise. (Except to add a petty little aside here that if you are going to call what you are doing a “deconstruction,” you should maybe pay attention to minor details like “what am I going to be analyzing.”)

So. 1) Personally, I see zero difference in the shades of eyeshadow on these characters. If there is a difference, Ana picked terrible pictures to demonstrate it.

2) The actual difference in the eyes is the shape, and, yes, the length and placement of the eyelashes. But this, to me, this is indicative of age-and-maturity-coding. Snow White is an innocent teenager, the Evil Queen is an adult. Snow White has smaller visible eyelids because she has big round innocent child eyes.

…and I just did more actual analysis of the visual differences between the characters and the effect of those differences than Ana will do at any point in this “deconstruction.”

In fact, Ana does not mention how the use of eyeshadow might be be informed by a character’s age or perceived maturity anywehre in this post, other than noting in a few places that particular characters without eyeshadow are children. He also doesn't mention class. In addition, he doesn’t really talk about either history or mechanics of animation, both of which could add interesting context here to why certain things are depicted in certain ways.

Ok, so here is Ana’s ACTUAL thesis for this post. We already see that his evidence supporting this thesis seems to be weak from the problems with the Snow White/Evil Queen pictures. Let’s see if his later examples demonstrate an actual pattern, and how well he does analyzing any patterns he finds.

So Ana has correctly identified the amount of eyeshadow depicted on the characters this time (yay!) But he’s already building in exceptions to his hypothesis that will need to be accounted for and addressed in more detail; otherwise he’s just handwaving away contradictory data and saying it doesn’t count.

Ok. So Ana is not asserting that the eyeshadow coding he is positing is universal. That’s…good, actually! Any given kind of coding usually won’t be universal, especially in a medium like animation! Acknowledging (and, at the 201 level, discussing potential explanations for) the exceptions is a necessary part of any analysis. Good job Ana, you get a cookie.

…Ana, I’m going to need you to give me that cookie back.

Ana, I know you understand the difference between eyeshadow and eye-bags. I know you know, because you literally just said it. And then you put these two pictures together, right next to each other, and reviewed them with your own eyes. Oh my god.

…The Lady’s eyelids are shaded. We can see it in this picture, that you posted, in your post.

What…what do you mean you “don’t know what to make of that”? Do you think that Disney is tricking you by not including the coding you are hypothesizing in every single one of its movies? Do…do you know how coding works? Or animation? I already took away the cookie I gave Ana for realizing that it wouldn’t make sense for this coding to be universal back when he was talking about Alice in Wonderland, so unfortunately I cannot now take it away for forgetting the point he seemed to understand just a few movies ago.

Ana, you owe me a cookie.

…Also, he picked a scene of the squirrels where the girl squirrel has her eyes half-closed, so we can see her eyelid shading. If he had included a picture of Arthur-squirrel with his eyes half-closed, we would be able to see his eyelids shaded in the exact same manner. Oh no! Is the Sword in the Stone secretly about how Arthur is trans???

(ANA THAT IS A JOKE)

So, this looks to me like an animation artifact? And while I didn’t rewatch the movie, after a quick google search I couldn’t find any other frames or images that show Prince John having different-colored eye shading.

ANA I KNOW YOU KNOW WHAT EYE-BAGS ARE, I AM BEGGING YOU

Gee, Ana, I thought this was a deconstruction - haven’t we previously established that bumbling and ineffective sidekick villains shouldn’t get eyeshadow?

…

...

ALSO WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN’T TELL WHAT’S GOING ON WITH HIS EYES

HAVE YOU EVER WATCHED ANIMATION BEFORE

CAN YOU SEE ANY OF THE REST OF THE FEATURES THEY CHOSE TO INCLUDE IN HIS FACE

ANA WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT

So. Two things here: one, this is supposed to be a deconstruction. Ana has already demonstrated that femininity actually does not equal eyeshadow in this film. In fact, from the evidence he has presented, there appears to be a better correlation between “eye-shading” and “animated object.” Two, with all of these characters: is eye-shadow supposed to be something we should be wary of, or not? Because with the exception of Lefou, all of the examples he's shown in this movie are of sympathetic characters.

Oh, cool, Ana admits that sometimes eyelids are just shaded slightly differently in animation because that’s a stylistic thing about animation, now that it would hurt the point he is trying to make if he applied the same standard he was applying previously. Also,

This is the picture Ana used to evidence his contention that Jasmine has no eyeshadow in her red outfit. It's a frame in which it looks an awful lot like she is wearing red eye shadow. Like, looking at some other stills from this scene, I don’t think she is supposed to be wearing red eye shadow? I think it’s just the lighting of this particular scene combined with the red outlines? But this was a terrible piece of evidence to use to make that argument, almost like Ana is grabbing screenshots to support the conclusions he’s already come to, without really looking at them.

Ana. Ana. I am going to have to breeze right past calling Frollo “queer-coded” because that’s not what this post is about.

“Frollo has eyes that just…are naturally shaded, even in the bright of day.”

Ana.

ANA.

WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT

THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE A POST ABOUT VILLAIN EYESHADOW

YOU ARE OSTENSIBLY WRITING ABOUT HOW ANIMATION USES VISUAL CODING

WHY ARE YOU CONFUSED ABOUT WHY THE EVIL OLD MANIPULATIVE VILLAIN IS BEING PORTRAYED WITH DEEP-SET AND SHADOWED EYES

HAVE YOU EVER WATCHED A MOVIE BEFORE

EYESHADOW???

EYESHADOW?!?

EYESHADOW?!?!?!?!

HAVE YOU EVER SEEN A HUMAN FACE BEFORE

Ana. Ana please I beg you. These men are not wearing eyeshadow. Their eyes are deep-set into their skulls, to make them look skeletal (not feminine!) and villainous. Ana I have to believe that you know this.

These two examples have exhausted me so much I’m skipping the rest because nothing can live up to these heights (down to these depths?).

This is a ok point. It is both accurate and and there is sufficient evidence in this post to back it up. It is also completely banal.

This may or may not be true…but no consistent pattern is evidenced by this post. By my count, Ana talks about 34 movies. She provides evidence that actually supports this claim (that eyeshadow is present or darker for morally bad characters and lighter or absent for morally good characters) for…eight of those movies (Sleeping Beauty, 101 Dalmatians, Rescuers Down Under, Oliver & Company, The Little Mermaid, the Aladdin sequel show, Simba’s Pride, and The Emperor’s New Groove.)* I counted at least seven movies where the only characters presented wearing eyeshadow, sometimes heavy eyeshadow, are morally good or neutral characters.

*I’m not including any movies where there are multiple villainous characters who should have darker/present eyeshadow if Ana’s pattern holds, but only one does (Cinderella and Pocahontas).

Ana is presenting here something that sounds reasonable, sounds like it would be right, but he has entirely failed to evidence it. And as we have seen, he frequently misrepresents what the movies actually depict in order to support this theory. He is either doing this deliberately, or is completely illiterate to visual language.

You can just copy and paste my previous paragraph is response to this point.

Ana includes that last paragraph as a “get out of jail free” card. This is the paragraph he can swing at a detractor like me who howls at his inclusion of Hades and Shen Yu and say, “HA! You’re the one who doesn’t have reading comprehension! I was explicitly talking about how some of these villainous characters have naturally shadowed eyes!”

But the preceding paragraph puts the lie to this paper-thin excuse. He is talking about an “eyeshadow trope” that is used to convey a sense of femininity. He is not making an incredibly banal point about western media using shadows to imply villainy.

While this was fun to laugh at, I hope this silly post also shows why it was bad that Ana was such a prominent voice in progressive media criticism circles. Ana applies the same level of criticism to everything he reads and watches (including real life). It’s not just that he is really really bad at media analysis. It’s that the points he makes are not necessarily wrong, but he consistently fails to evidence his claims. He mixes obvious, evident truths with claims that *sound right* - and are potentially even interesting and worth discussing - but need actual evidence to back them up. It’s that he misrepresents the texts he is examining in order to support his claims, so that his readers cannot trust that they are being given an accurate version of the media he is criticizing. Readers who believe him without double checking are likely to be mislead into believing claims that sound reasonable on the surface but are in fact inaccurate. Readers who follow his lead will become less critical media consumers.

Good riddance. I hope he lives a very long happy life, very far away from any public media criticism circles or moderation duties.

#deconstruction #AM #lol #being petty on the internet

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sukirichi · 3 years

Text

request: SWIMSUIT SHOPPING WITH JJK CHARACTERS — (yuuji, megumi, and gojo satoru ver!)

notes: i’ve reached a point in hell of no return, help 😩 anon knows exactly what she’s talking about and i’d be more than honoured to add on to this concept

warnings: nsfw content such as public sex, overstimulation, degradation, manhandling, oral sex (f and m receiving), road head, and slight cumplay (nsfw under the cut!) + this is unedited/not proofread,

(all minor characters are aged up)

masterlist ! requests are open

ITADORI YUUJI

he’s a pretty innocent boy

in a way that he’s not always dirty minded instead of him totally being...well, inexperienced

so when you ask him if he can come with you pick a swimsuit, he happily agrees

he loves going shopping with you and is extremely patient even if you take half an hour in just one shop

he’d happily carry your bags for you

seriously, this man is so low maintenance, he’s not going to ask for anything else or whine that you’re taking too long or that he’s hungry

he’s REALLY really patient and supportive of you

and even though he’s not an expert in women’s fashion, he’ll honestly give his opinions if he thinks a dress or shoe looks good on you or no

he might also remind you just how convenient your outfit would be on the event you plan to use it t

but this time, it’s a different case because you’re buying a swimsuit

now, yuuji’s seen you naked before so it’s nothing new to him anymore, but the moment he walks inside the swimsuit shop with all types of frilly bras and colorful pieces, he’ll immediately duck his head down in respect

he’s pretty fidgety the whole time

if you bring up a certain red polka dot bikini in front of your clothed body, tilting your head to the side innocently to ask, “how about this?”

yuuji’s brain will fry right then and there

he can imagine just how great you’d look in it, but he doesn’t want to be rude or too obvious so he’ll just nod and go,

“yeah, babe, that’d look great on you!”

he’s pretty silent the whole time, but really, all the blood’s rushed to his cock already

the whole drive back, yuuji is already so sensitive and clenching his jaw with his hands firmly gripping the steering wheel while you sit next to him, hiding your smirk

you almost want to laugh at how flustered he is, but he’s trying his best not to show it

but you’re not that bad, and so you ask him to pull over because the tent in his pants looks so uncomfortable and you doubt he’ll be patient enough to jack off in the bathroom when you both go back home

he’s confused at first, glancing over you with worry

“why, what’s wrong? did you want to go somewhere else?”

“no,” you laugh, pushing your hair back into a makeshift ponytail

and THAT has yuuji driving recklessly and swerving real fast and furious style because he knows what’s about to happen next

despite his eagerness, he’s still concerned about you, breathing heavily as you lean over your seats and start to unzip his pants

“a-are you sure about this? you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to,”

poor baby is already shaking the moment your nails rake over his thigh, your breath just ghosting over his clothed erection which is already damp with pre-cum

this makes you hum in agreement because yes of course you’re sure

you had a feeling yuuji would be turned on with this little escapade anyway, but you didn’t think he’d be this needy already

now it’s time for you to relax your throat and prepare yourself because yuuji is THICK

safe to say, all your arrogance is gone the moment you choke on his length, his big hands helping you keep the hair away from your face

meanwhile, yuuji is messily thrusting his hips up to your mouth, enjoying the way you just feel so warm around him

“f-fuck, baby, feels so good. i can imagine you already in that flimsy material, you’d be so pe-perfect, fuuckk.”

your chest swells with pride, always having been weak when it comes to his praising

once he reaches his high and paints your face white, yuuji lazily pulls you closer to him to kiss you, moaning when he tastes himself on your lips

you only giggle at how romantic he is even when your hands are still stroking his softening cock, and yuuji shudders a bit at the gesture

because he’s been such a great and supportive boyfriend today, you swipe at the cum near your lips, which makes yuuji’s eyes darken when you collect it with the tip of your tongue

then, as innocently as you could bat your eyelashes at him, you grin,

“would you like to see me wear it tonight? just for you?”

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

PLEASE HELP THIS BOY

“gumi, can you come shopping with me tonight? there’s a pool party this weekend with my friends and i need a new swimsuit.”

he wants to say yes because duh

but he also wants to say no because he’d rather not walk around in public with a raging erection

and we all know megumi is big, like come on, he’s toji’s son

like yuuji, i don’t think megumi is that perverted either, but he’s still a teenage boy with raging hormones

he may have more control over himself than yuuji, but he knows his limits

a swimsuit is honestly so innocent — it’s not even half as tempting as when you surprised him with a white lingerie set (which resulted you two in not getting out of bed the whole weekend lmao) so he wonders why the hell he’s so nervous

eventually he convinces himself that going with your girlfriend while she shops for a swimsuit isn’t anything new and it’s just a “normal couple thing” so bedgrudingly, he sighs and agrees

which he immediately regrets the moment you head straight for the skirtinis

there’s so much to choose from, and his eyes widen at the absurdity of how there’s so many designs and patterns

i feel leki megumi is a cheapskate, so he’ll be more focused first on criticizing the price tags before looking at you

“25 dollars for this...thing?”

he’ll shake his head in disapproval, but then straighten up when he sees you frown

“i think it looks cute. don’t you like it?”

you push up a frilly pink skirtini, the shade a soft pastel one that just looks so innocent and cute on you

it doesn’t help that you’re gazing up at him under your lashes either, a small pout on those kissable lips

he admits it does look cute, even cuter because you’re the one wearing it, but he still doesn’t like the price lmao

or at least...not until he’s seen you wearing it

once you’ve both gotten home, megumi heads straight to the kitchen because he’s been so parched (he won’t tell you that he’s been subconsciously swallowing his saliva the whole time, showing him material by material until it all gets suspiciously thinner and more revealing)

he doesn’t like limiting you or telling you what to wear, either, so he just follows you like a lost puppy, careful to note stare too much at anything to not make anyone uncomfortable

but then he goes back to your shared room, just about ready to call it a day since you sure did take your sweet time, and he sees you strutting in your underwear in front of the mirror

megumi freezes at the door like a lagging npc LMAO

“...y/n?”

you smile, turning to him as if he hadn’t just caught you checking yourself out, which he doesn’t blame you for because you look absolutely stunning in it

the skirt just hides the supple flesh of your thighs, but really, he’s more stunned at how your ass looks so perky in that skintight material

megumi looks away, flushed, running a hand through his hair because he’s too much of a gentleman to outright say he finds you so sexy in fear it would sound weird

but you take his sudden aversion something else, and you wrap your arms around yourself a little consciously, voice turning small

“does it look bad on me?”

he immediately picks up on how small you’ve made yourself, his eyes snapping to yours

“no, you look amazing! why would you think that?”

you pout, “you suddenly looked away. it felt like you don’t really like it.”

at this point, megumi is such a blushing, stuttering mess, approaching you carefully with his words stll stumbling over one another

“that’s not true,” he sighs, rubbing his hands on your bare arms, finally letting himself loose and shamelessly staring at how your breasts are just right under him, waiting to be touched

the tension in the room begins to thicken, and you shiver when his hands trail down your hip before squeezing the flesh almost possessively

“beautiful,” he’d murmur almost absentmindedly, and by the time you’re practically melting in the heat of his gaze, megumi just goes ‘fuck it’ and straight out kisses you

he’s gentle though

he knows you felt insecure and so he wants to take his time with you, touching you in places he knows you liked, curling his fingers in just the right spot that has you seeing stars

he doesn’t do anything that would make your body shake, but it still feels good — a lot more like lovemaking

and it is

he wants you to know he loves you and that you’re the most beautiful being ever in his eyes

megumi will kiss you starting from your calves and up to your belly, where he hovers for a minute before changing his mind and diving back down to where you want him the most

small, kitten licks in your core that has you dripping in his tongue, your hands fisting his hair

megumi doesn’t stop telling you how pretty you look just like that, loosing yourself in the pleasure he’s giving you

he doesn’t neglect your breasts; one of his hands reaching up to softly pinch the beaded nipples which has you riding and humping his face even more

megumi buries his face in your heat in that moment, his nose bumping your clit every now and then, and you feel so beautiful with how he can’t seem to get enough of you

he knows this just by the way you clamp down on his tongue, sweet juices coating his lips and he drinks it all like a starved man

“cum for me, sweet girl,” he coaxes, his thumb pushing your lips open as he watches you come undone for him

“that’s right — fuck — you’re so gorgeous, so perfect, just mine.”

and just when you think he’s had enough, megumi only flips you until your core is right on top of his face, his large hands merciless as he pushes your hips forward and backward on his tongue

similar to before, you and megumi stay in bed all day long with him going round per round, never getting tired of making you feel good until you’re just laying spent on your bed, juices flowing out of your abused core

you push megumi away when his fingers slide in your inner thigh

but no he’s not quite done with you yet

“no,” he growls softly, pushing your hands away and pinning you under his weight. “i’m not stopping until you finally see yourself the way i see you. so divine, so ethereal.”

your body is something he’ll never get tired of worshipping

you’re hella tired

but hey who are you to complain

you only wish megumi hadn’t ruined your swimsuit with your cum, but after a promise that he’ll jsut get you another one, you lose yourself to another mind blowing orgasm

GOJO SATORU

let’s be real here

you know EXACTLY what you’re asking for the moment you dragged him into a swimsuit shop

you don’t even bother asking him if he wants to go anymore because gojo being gojo, he’ll be whiny about it, saying you could just surprise him the moment you get home

to which you roll your eyes and say, “this isn’t for you, gojo.”

hah, but anything that is yours is his, and your body is definitely his

gojo is nothing but bored

he wants to go home already and just fuck you already, and he’s getting on your nerves so you threaten that you’re not letting him touch you for a whole week if he doesn’t shut up and accompany you for once

it’s not that gojo is mean and unsupportive of you, he’s just so horny in that moment he can’t think straight

but he also really, really likes touching you so the big man just pouts and crosses his arms

sighing loudly and rather dramatically

it only takes a few seconds before gojo straightens up, peeking under his blindfold when you pick up a plain black bikini with the top knotted behind your neck

it’s not really your style though, so you’re about to move to another design when gojo whines

“wait, why not that one? it would look great on you.”

ofc you know i’ll look great on you, but it’s not your favorite, and it’s fun to tease gojo so you shrug nonchalantly, picking up a dark blue legsuit instead

gojo absolutely LOSES it

man takes off his blindfold just to glare at the material as if it offended him

“babe, what the fuck is that?”

“it’s a legsuit, perfect for scuba diving. plus, it protects my skin from the sun. i wouldn’t want a sunburn.”

the way gojo laughs is so cocky you consider choking him with the suit

“that’s what you have me for?” he points to himself incredulously, “i’ll put the sunblock all over your body babe, you don’t even have to worry about that.”

“please. i’d already be stripped down to my birthday suit before you even get to open the bottle,” you scoff, muttering under your breath, “damn fucking horny guy can’t keep his thing inside his pants.”

however, this doesn’t faze gojo

“and what’s so wrong with finding my girlfriend so sexy and hot i want to fuck her all the time?”

honestly what the hell were you thinking, assuming that you’d one-up gojo when this man would always be superior when it comes to being dirty LMAO he is just so shameless

but whatever, you ignore him, heading to the checkout with a self-assured smile

gojo trails behind you, his anger radiating off of him so strongly you can feel it

“y/n.”

“y/n, you can’t even swim. don’t fuck with me and say you’re buying that to ‘scuba dive.’”

“what, so i can’t learn now?”

“just buy the black bikini. it looks great on you.”

“i told you already, i’m not buying that and wearing it for you. i only dragged you here because i need someone to carry my bags.”

you know what happens to brats?

they get punished.

and that’s exactly what happens

gojo grabs your wrist rather roughly back to where you’ve left the black bikini, and not only does he shove it to your chest, commanding you to wear it, but he also shoves you in the nearest dressing cubicle

next thing you know, gojo has his palm over your mouth as he pounds into you from behind, absolutely railing you to the point tears are flowing down your cheeks

“look at you — not so bratty now, are we? you’re just a slut for my cock, aren’t you, sweet girl?”

gojo lifts one of your legs up in the crook of his arm, forcing you to look at the way your pussy greedily sucks him in in front of the mirror

you’re so wet that the squelching of your pussy, along with the slapping of skin, resonates in the cramped space

you reach behind gojo and move away from his hand, gasping breathily while your breasts bounce

“gojo, ah, shit — we might get caught.”

“do i look like i give a fuck, baby?”

no, he doesn’t. and he proves this by pushing you down by the back until your cheek is squished against the mirror, your ass pressed against his pubic bone

with the way gojo’s hips are angled and his long cock is hitting places only he can reach, you no longer care about people finding you in this position

your mouth is open, eyes rolling at the back of your head and drool even begins to slide from your lips

this makes gojo laugh, two of his fingers rubbing against where you two are connected to gather your wetness before shoving it into your mouth

“shut the fuck up, you slut.”

gojo’s large hands then comes up to grab and squeeze your hips roughly; you think he’ll leave bruises there or marks in the shape of fingers

he’s basically using you as his fucktoy now, paying no mind to how you’re crying from how he’s hitting in so deep and fast

your body just transcends into a different dimension

you’re fucked out, crying and begging for him to go slower

“gojo — baby — p-please, a little more gentle, ah, fuck.”

“what was that?” he teases, bending forwards to nip at your ear. the sudden shift in angles has the tip of his cock kissing your cervix, and you immediately clench around his cock.

gojo taps your lips when your eyes shut close from the exhaustion, barely able to comprehend anything else other than the familiar coil deep in your belly

“i couldn’t hear you, princess. speak louder.”

“slower, please,” you beg, placing your sweaty palms flat on the mirror in an attempt to hold onto something. “too much, satoru, t’much.”

poor you, his baby looks so tired and fucked out

with a sarcastic sigh, he kisses the pads of your shoulders, then bites the knot of your black bikini until the material falls to the ground

your breasts are now free from its confines, and his rough hands reach to fondle them

you expect him to grip it possessively like how he always does, but instead, he massages them with tender care, whispering sweet nothings in your ear

one of his hands reach over to where your hands are, looping it through your fingers while his thrust slows down

he forms a tantalizing pace of hitting deep before pulling out in a such slow, torturous fashion then slamming back in until he bottoms out in one thrust

it’s dirty, lewd, and still very much wrong — but it feels so right and it’s rare that gojo ever listens to you so you find it romantic

gojo isn’t the least bit apologetic when you’re both kicked out from the shop

because in the end, he won, and he holds your shopping bag with the cum-stained black bikini proudly all the way back to his car

4K notes · View notes

miekasa · 3 years

Text

bad romance

+ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

+ genres and warnings: friends with benefits au, friends to lovers au (well i guess that’s open for interpretation lmao), modern au—college au?, explicit smut, mentioned/implied virginity

+ summary: friends with benefits with your best friend since middle school is probably a bad idea. friends with benefits with your best friend since middle school who you’ve also been in love with for the past seven years—all for the purpose of her gaining ‘experience’ so she’s not nervous to do it with some other guy she has a crush on—is probably a really bad idea. levi ackerman is not known to make great decisions.

+ word count: 3.5k

+ notes: truth be told, i don’t even know if i like this; i took this from an outline/draft of a series i’d planned but know i’ll never complete. it’s kind of unedited too heh, also if you’re a minor pls do not interact

Levi doesn’t think anything of it when he finds you on his doorstep on a rainy Saturday evening. It’s very much like you to show up unannounced and attempt to drag him into whatever activity you want to do that day. He’s fairly certain that Hange picked that up from you. Someone should tell her that it doesn’t work so well unless it’s you tugging on his arm sleeve and interrupting his otherwise peaceful evening.

So, for a while, everything is normal. You make fun of him for his use of, admittedly overpriced, organic butter when he toasts you a bagel; he makes jabs at you shuffling around his apartment like a semi-wet chihuahua, and all is right with the world.

Until it’s not. Because half-way into whatever stand-up comedy Netflix special you’d persuaded him into watching with you, Levi’s had enough of your nervous ticking. He doesn’t know if you think that he wouldn’t notice, but he does. And he knows it’s not the result of you still being wet or cold from the rain, seeing as you’ve long since dried off and warmed up.

You’re focused on the show (ironically, focused to a point of distraction), you’ve been twiddling your fingers since it started, and you’ve been fidgety since you stepped foot into his house. Quite frankly, he finds it insulting that you think he wouldn’t know something’s up by now.

So, he bends his knee, turns his body towards yours, lifts his elbow to rest atop the edge of the soft, and presses his cheek into his palm: “Alright, spit it out.”

“Huh?—What do you mean?” You look at him with wide, startled eyes. He looks back at you with unamused, expecting ones.

You crack a nervous smile, attempting to laugh off his command as incredulous, but instead, your voice comes out in what sounds like a pathetic attempt to cover up a lie—probably because it is, “What? Can’t I spend sometime with my favorite, surly psychology student?”

Levi scoffs at your batting eyelashes. The look he throws you seems to do the trick as you drop your facade with a sigh and shift yourself to face him on the couch too, your bent knees almost touching.

“Alright, fine, you got me,” you sigh, hands resting in your lap, “You, um... you know how you said you’d help me with, like, uh... sex and stuff?”

Levi raises an eyebrow. Of course he does. He watches as your eyes dart around the room waiting for his response. It’s cute as heck, and if the topic of conversation at hand weren’t about to get so compromising, he’d have probably teased you about it.

“Yeah, why?”

“Well… okay, so, you remember Jean, right? The guy I told you about?”

Levi hums. Yeah, he remembers Jean, but only because you can’t seem to shutup about him, not because he’s particularly memorable otherwise. He seems to be kind of a prick and a huge idiot, if you asked Levi; but, that’s kind of his default impression of most people.

“Jean and I hung out yesterday, and it was normal, you know? We just talked and ordered food and watched a movie,” you rub your palms along the fabric of your yoga pants—another nervous tick he’s been observing, “I don’t know if it was a date or not, because he didn’t say it was, and I don’t want to assume, but Marco keeps saying it was, and that Jean wants to actually ask me out.”

Levi blinks. “And?”

“And if he does ask me out—or even if he just… I don’t know, wants to try something the next time we hang out, I don’t want to look like a complete idiot!”

He refrains from letting a noticeable grimace take over his features; and washes away the unsettling feeling in his stomach with a nonchalant comment, “I doubt he’ll try anything on your first date.”

“But what if it’s not a date! People hang out just to hook up all the time.”

“I thought you wanted to date him?” Levi questions, but his it comes out as more of a deadpan statement.

“I do,” you answer, your response a little delayed and drawn out, “But, I wouldn’t mind just sleeping with him, either.”

“Bold statement from someone who’s never slept with anyone before.”

“Have I told you today that you’re an asshole?” you roll your eyes at him, “Come on, Levi, you know what it’s like to just want someone, but not want them, don’t you? You’ve had one night stands before.”

That’s true, Levi knows it, but it’s different. He wasn’t actively seeking advice from his friends about how to pursue and potentially please his one night stands because none of that mattered—well, the pleasing part, probably, but not the pursuit, or the feelings that came with it. Besides, Levi hasn’t felt the desire for any of that in a long time.

“That’s not the same,” he responds, trying to dismiss the muddy feelings crawling up his throat, “Look, if your Jean guy gets horny when you’re hanging out, just make out with him—make him jizz his pants or something.”

“That’s terrible advice,” you frown, “Plus, he’s probably done that with a million other girls.”

“Probably. Sex tends to repeat a few basic actions here and there.”

“For a psychology student, you sure are a terrible makeshift therapist, do you know that?”

“That’s not even the kind of psychology I study, never mind that I never asked to be your therapist.”

Levi takes great amusement in your huffing and the frustrated pout settling into your features, though he does his best to not let his own smile shine through. It’s probably futile; you can probably see through his facade, anyways.

“I just don’t want to bore him, Levi.”

Any trace of his smile vanishes as those words leave your mouth. Levi doesn’t retain much about this Jean guy you keep going on about, and he doesn’t care to in all honesty—but maybe if he did, he could understand why you’re so hellbent on pleasing the kid.

Levi doesn’t like it, not one single bit. His own feelings for you aside, he doesn’t like how Jean has managed to worm his way into your head and make you think that he’s deserving of any kind of affection from you, whether it be platonic, romantic, or sexual. Because he isn’t; Levi might not know him, but he knows that much.

Still, he sympathizes with you. He understands the pressure of navigating dating and hookup culture, especially in a university setting; never mind the additional expectations set on you as a girl. It’s shitty, all of it; the stupid feelings, the sense of uncertainty, the dumb-ass college pricks. You shouldn’t have to deal with any of that.

“You won’t,” is Levi’s simpler response, “Just don’t crush his dick in the process.”

“I wouldn’t do that, fuck you.”

“I’m just saying, you’ve never been the most coordinated person in the world,” he taunts, “If that’s what you came here today to ask me to help you with, it’s fine.”

“Really?—I mean, okay, I know we said that’s okay, and stuff, but I didn’t know if—well I don’t know what’s on the table or not? I do want to do that with you, but I also wanted to know if we could do… more? But I didn’t want to ask for too much and make you uncomfortable! Do we need a lesson-plan of sorts, because I can make—”

“You’re doing it.”

“Doing what?”

“Stalling,” Levi tells you, “You know, how when you get all nervous and ramble, then run out of breath or things to say, then get super quiet, and let the conversation die and be awkward again.”

You throw daggers his way with your eyes, and Levi has the audacity to smirk. “Forgive me, it’s not every day I ask my best friend if I can suck his dick for practice.”

“You can,” Levi replies, a little too nonchalant for the situation at hand, “If you want. I don’t mind. As for a lesson plan, that’s weird as shit, so don’t do that.”

“Really? I can?” you question again, an ironic child-like glimmer of joy in your eyes.

Levi chuckles lowly at your enthusiasm—your appreciation is so genuine, he finds it nothing short of adorable. And oddly enough, he’s a little turned on by it, too.

“Yeah,” he nods his head shallowly, “You can.”

You still have that gleam in your eyes, but Levi can feel the hesitation creeping up on you, and offers his guidance before he loses you to a shell of yourself. He shifts over to you just a bit, loosely holding your right wrist in his grip; holding eye-contact, he carefully pulls you up to stand in front of him.

“You can start,” he says, slowly tugging on your wrist, “By getting on your knees and taking off my pants.”

By the time he’s finished speaking, you’re already kneeling in front of him, and the sight is already enough to have Levi semi-hard in his pants; an almost embarrassed flush washing over his body as he comes to terms with the fact that he’s thought about this visual more times than he cares to ever admit.

You fumble with the zipper of his jeans, pulling them, along with his boxers to pool around his ankles. Your actions are careful and calculated, but you seem comfortable—maybe not with your skills, but with Levi.

His eyes stay glued on you, when you finally hold his length with a single hand, the other resting hot on his thigh. He leans over again, this time to rest a comforting hand on the back of your neck, eager to wash away any remains of your nervous resolve.

“Start slow,” he instructs, feeling your thumb swipe along the head, “Just move your hand up and down a bit, like—ah, yeah, like that.”

You seem follow his words carefully, focusing on the way his dick jerks in your hand. Levi observes you carefully and mentally notes that while he’d have liked it, not making out with you before this was probably the right call—he’d probably have creamed his jeans before this could have begun.

“You can grip it harder,” he tells you. You listen, applying slightly more pressure to your grasp; and it makes Levi groan, short, but strangled, above you.

“Okay?” you question, the genuine concern in your voice enough to make Levi’s gaze soften.

“Yeah, that’s—you’re doing good,” he says, rubbing his thumb against the nape of your neck habitually, “Twist your hand a little when you go up, you can—fuck, okay, yeah, that, like that.”

You snap your head up to look at him when he lets a moan slip through; nothing but pure enthusiasm and satisfaction dancing in your eyes. Levi grits his teeth when you do it again, your thumb sliding over the tip when you reach the top of his dick, and, Christ, you’ve got to stop looking at him like that.

You work your way into a steady rhythm, letting Levi’s moans guide your movements. You feel him harden to full length under your touch; and when he does, you move your hand faster, twisting your wrist around the length and squeezing just a pinch harder at the tip, without instruction.

He watches through lidded eyes, using his thumb to press lightly into the back of your neck. You move your free hand from his thighs, eager to add it to the mix, but Levi freezes.

“Nuh uh,” he shakes his head.

It prompts you to stop your actions, tilt your head and look up at him, and Levi doesn’t think he’s ever seen something so sinful. Your complete focus on him, neck craned obediently, eyes twinkling under your lashes; your position makes him want to kiss you or choke you or something in between.

“What—did I do something wrong?” you ask with wide and innocent eyes that make Levi feel bad for worrying you, yet send an erotic pulse throughout his body.

“Not at all,” he reassures you, fingers treading into the hair at your nape.

He’s setting himself up for failure, and he knows it, too—because, really, who agrees to teach a friend how to suck dick? Having you on your knees in front him, crane into his touch, and keen to all his desires, does nothing to mask the painful fire in the pit of his stomach.

It’s stupid to be this hungry, this possessive over you when he knows you come to him in hopes to learning how to please another man. But one, precious thought is enough to cloud over all of that, enough to put that sadistic smirk back on his face.

“You said you wanted to give me a blowjob, right?” he questions, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth at the shallow nod of your head, “Okay. Open your mouth for me, yeah?”

He barely pushes the tip past your lips when your head dips forward, tongue peeking out to lick the very top. Levi sucks in sharp air between his teeth, relaxing into the couch when your head bobs further, enclosing the tip of his dick in your mouth.

“Fuck,” he groans, voice hoarse when his hardened cock rests against the velvet wet of your tongue, “That’s it—just keep going, like that.”

He watches intensely as your head bobs onto him. It’s hot and wet and so much more than he’d imagined it would be; and he’s not too shy to admit he’s imagined this with you. He moves his hand to brush away the flyaways of your hair, smoothing them back and tangling his fingers at the back of your head. He carefully guides your movements.

It’s slow and steady, and normally, it’d take him a while to cum like this, but with the visual of having you on your knees for him, Levi can feel a faint warmth of his orgasm already beginning to bubble inside of him.

“This is okay, right?” you pull back, a thin line of spit trailing from your mouth.

“Yes, yes,” he answers immediately, unaware of his tightening grasp on your hair.

With a shy smile, you continue, taking more of him this time and carefully gauging his reactions. You move your head further down, testing your own limits, until you feel like you’re choking. You pull back again, with an embarrassed cough.

“Don’t push yourself,” he says softly, rubbing soothing circles into your neck with his fingers, “Guys can’t actually tell the difference between a regular blowjob and being deep throated, no need to choke yourself.”

“Wait, really?” you ask, resting you bum against your heels.

“You seem so surprised.”

“That’s just so… disappointing,” you crinkle your nose, “Men and porn make deep-throating seem like the end all be all of giving head.”

Levi chuckles in genuine amusement, “Well, it’s not, trust me. If any guy insists on being deep-throated just to cum, he’s a fucking liar. He’s getting off on the submission, not the actual feeling.”

“The submission?”

“Getting someone to be willing to listen to them, telling them what to do, how to please them,” he shrugs, “Makes you feel like you’re in control.”

“And that… that works?”

“Yeah,” Levi says, “But, judging by the tone of your voice, and how willing you were to suck my dick three seconds ago, I’d say the idea of being dominant doesn’t really appeal to you.”

You scrunch your nose again, “Does it appeal to you?”

Levi pauses, thinking over his answer, before giving you a simple, “Yeah. Most of the time.”

“Oh,” you hum, “I… I don’t think I’d like that. I think I’d rather be told what to do, seeing as I don’t really know what I’m doing, anyways.”

“Ironic, considering you’ve never once listened anything I tell you do.”

“I was listening when you told me how to suck your dick,” you correct him, “You seemed to enjoy that.”

Levi pauses with a raised eyebrow. You don’t seem to back down, that matter-of-fact smirk on your face still mocking him. He leans over slowly, using his right hand to guide your head closer to him, and uses his left hand to grab your jaw between his fingers.

“You can be such a fucking brat, you know that,” he all but whispers, pursing your lips together in his hold, “Since you like listening to me so much, then shut up, and we can finish what you started.”

You blink, staring at him with a wide-eyed expression. He’s right that under any other circumstance you’d probably run your mouth off about him telling you what to do. But something about the way he knows what he wants and tells how he wants it makes you listen without an argument.

You nod, slowly wrapping your lips around the tip again, and bobbing along his length. Levi’s breath hitches when you hollow your cheeks slightly, a rough hand pressing down on the back of your neck.

“You’re really—god, okay, you’re good at this, you know,” Levi praises you, letting his right hand resume its position at the back of your neck.

If you had any doubts before about being submissive, the look on Levi’s face seemed to have wiped them away. Watching him throw his head back, his fingers gripping at your nape, his cock in your mouth—pleasing him seemed to be enough to please you, too.

“I wanna make you cum, Levi,” you voice your thoughts, letting a hand lazily jerk him off in the mean time, “Tell me what I have to do to make you cum.”

“If you keep going, I’ll cum,” he answers too quickly, a groan slipping through his words, “Trust me.”

“Come on, Levi,” you push, rolling your thumb over the slit of his dick. It makes him inhale sharply; you’re getting a little too good at that; at all of this. “Can—I mean, do you wanna cum in my mouth?”

“Shit, shit. Don’t say shit like that,” he curses, blunt nails raking and scraping at your scalp, “You don’t have to—I can just—”

“I want you to,” you tell him earnestly, “Please?”

Fuck, he was pretty fucking certain he’d told you to stop saying shit like that. Levi bites the inside of his cheek, paces himself; uses both of his hands to hold your head gently, while you use yours to wrap around his cock.

He grunts with a shake, and rolls his hips up, pushing himself further into your mouth, but not so much as to hurt you. It’s soon after that hot strophes of cum wet your tongue, and Levi lets you lazily jerk him off until you’ve milked his orgasm.

The room is silent save for his low moans and the squeaking of his thighs against the leather couch. When he’s finished, he slouches back, looking at you through hooded eyes, sweaty and panting, when you close your mouth and swallow.

You use your fingers to collect any remaining cum from his softening cock, and hum contented as you put your fingers in your mouth. Levi locks eyes with you again, cheeks flushed as you pull your digits out of your mouth, and he has to grip at his own thigh to gain the self-control to not get hard again.

You’re going to be the fucking death of him some day.

He shakes his head when you move backwards with a cute smile and pulls his boxers up, then his pants as best his can, not bothering to zip them up. When he’s done, you stand to your feet then straddle him on the couch, laughing lowly at his post-orgasm haze.

He doesn’t think twice about the way your hands clasp at the back of his neck, or the way his find their way to rest on your hips. You grab ahold of his jaw with both hands, holding his face in place. He thinks you’re going to lean in, but you don’t; just stay like that, your eyes roaming his glassy eyes.

“Are you gonna kiss me or just stare at me all day?” he questions, lips pulled into a knowing grin.

“Can I?” your question makes him frown in confusion, “Dunno, I heard some guys don’t like that after getting head.”

“Bunch a fuckin pussies,” he grumbles, leaning forward to close the gap between your mouths. He can feel you smile into it, and mimics your grin when you begin to press short, repeated kisses against his lips.

“You’re the best, you know that?”

He laughs when you continue to press quick kisses on his lips. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

You kiss him on the cheek, wet and dramatic. “Love you, Levi.”

Your face is right in front of his, but he averts his gaze, a different kind go warmth spreading throughout his chest when you flash a smile at him. He lets you kiss him again, longer this time, but still slow and sweet. He likes the feeling of you resting against him, affection lingering on your tongue when you kiss him.

It’s dangerous, but he likes the way you spark a fire in him. Sweet or sinful, it makes him feel boneless, wanted, loved.

Levi leans forward, rubbing his hands up your sides, and captures your lips in another languid kiss before pulling away to peck the corner of your mouth. “Love you, too.”

And he means it of course, but if Levi thought he had it bad before, he’s in deep shit now.

#aot x reader #snk x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #aot imagines #snk imagines #aot fanfiction #levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman fluff #eren x reader

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buckyownsmylife · 3 years

Text

Give your heart a break - Chris Evans smut

The one where Chris is a biker and decided he wants to start your forever.

Warnings: I’m gonna tag this as dubcon just to be safe, Chris definitely crosses a line without proper consent, breeding kink, biker!Chris AU, bondage, (belt used to restrain hands), dirty talk

A/N: this is for my own birthday celebration challenge! Like I explained here, I’m going to try to fill every single AU I listed with the characters I picked for the challenge, and since the deadline if May 27, these fics will be posted randomly, as I finish them. Hope you guys like it!

Chris’ P.O.V.

“Hey, baby!” The smile she opened up when she turned around to see it was truly me who had just arrived at her coffee shop made my heart beat faster than it ever did while I was away from her.

I guess the adrenaline the bike used to give me was nothing compared to her effect on me.

“What are you doing here?” She exclaimed, jumping on my waiting arms so I could twirl her around, like I always did after we spent some time apart. She looked just the same, which comforted my heart somewhat.

I hated leaving her, but this nomadic lifestyle I’d chosen for myself long before we ever met would never work for her. It’s why she always resisted accepting any kind of labels to what we shared.

That was all about to change, though. Even if she still didn’t realize it.

“What? Can’t I stop by to visit my best girl?” Her smile became even bigger at the pet name. It was the indication I needed of her true feelings. She wanted to be mine, she really just couldn’t handle the biker lifestyle.

“Of course, you can. I just wasn’t expecting you, that’s all. Sit down, I’ll bring your usual order!” I watched as she fixed me a black coffee and picked a muffin with great care before bringing it to me. I had no doubt it was the warmest one on the tray. “Will you be sticking around for tonight?”

I could see the glint of hope and desire in her eyes. I knew that even though she didn’t want to be tied down to me, she hadn’t looked for pleasure in anyone else ever since I first kissed her. And even though I was sure she thought differently, neither had I.

She owned my heart ever since we met. There was no one else I’d rather have underneath my body. “I think you’ll soon realize I’ll be sticking around for a lot longer.”

Her eyes lit up at that, excitement clear in her features. “A whole week?” She’d been asking me for that for as long as I’ve known her, and I’d never been able to stick through the whole seven days. There was always some shipment to assess, brothers to help.

This time, nothing would force me away from her.

“You’ll see.” She rolled her eyes at my attempt at keeping a mystery, and I know what was going on through her pretty little head. I was already too secretive as it was, there was no need for more hiding. But I had a plan, and I was going to stick to it.

“I’ll be right here until it’s time to lock up. I’ll walk you home, how does that sound?” The way the corner of her eyes crinkled as she smiled at me was enough of a response, yet she gave me one anyway.

“Perfect.”

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Stop that.” The order startled me, too lost in the haze of lust to realize that he’d stripped down to his boxers, finally noticing that I’d climbed on the bed and had been playing with myself while I waited for him to join me.

Usually, I’d immediately follow his directions - almost instinctively, actually. It was probably some remaining fear that used to exist inside of me when I saw him on his bike just outside my shop, before I decided to give him a chance and began this little adventure between us…

I never wanted to see his anger directed at me. But tonight, I was feeling brave for whatever reason. Maybe it was because of how much I had missed him this time we spent apart and how I unconsciously resented him for always leaving. We’d never have an actual relationship, and it was all because of him.

So maybe that awoke the brat in me, because all I gave him was a smirk, keeping the movements on my clit as I watched him watch me. “I don’t think you deserve that,” I taunted, taking notice of the way he seemed transfixed by the wetness gathered on my lower lips, until I stopped my movements and raised my hand to slather it on my lips.

“You’ve left me all alone so many nights, with only these fingers as company…” I returned them to the apex of my thighs, pushing them inside of me this time, making sure to exaggerate my moan at the relieving sensation of being filled. “I think you deserve to suffer for a while longer.”

He looked so beautiful with his eyebrows furrowed, the length of his eyelashes and the pinkness of his lips almost making me overlook how threatening he still looked, all tatted up, clearly disappointed in me.

“Stop it,” he warned once more, but I wasn’t in a submissive mood. Not tonight.

“Why should I?” I argued, fucking myself faster. “I’m not yours. You can’t boss me around.” That was the wrong thing to say, I realized the second his eyes darkened, jaw clenching at my defiance. He was on me in a second, easily gathering my wrists in one of his hands as he pulled them up in the direction of the headboard, and it was only when I felt the leather around them that I realized he’d picked up his belt to tie me to bed.

“Yes, you are,” he breathed out against my face, eyes looking directly in mine to show me just how serious he was. “And you should know better than to disobey me.” The authoritative tone in his voice had me shivering, especially after he pulled away and stopped covering my body with his, taking advantage of how I was bound to the bed to drink in my naked figure.

“I promise I’ll behave,” I tried to argue, legs flailing around his figure until he grabbed them. “I-I just missed you, that’s all.” The way his huge, rough hand felt on the inside of my thighs should be illegal. And he knew just how much it affected me, as he smirked and looked up at me from under his eyelashes with a knowing glint in his gaze.

“Don’t you trust me?” He questioned, head tilted as his thumb slipped and found place right over my nub. “I just want to make you feel good, sugar.” I hesitated for a moment - I hadn’t really experimented with any sort of kinky sex before, even though I expected him to try something unusual ever since the first time we were together. Guess this was starting small. I could take it.

Besides, I needed him too fucking badly.

“Yeah?” He confirmed after I nodded, tone almost patronizing as he kept rubbing me and playing with himself. “Got yourself wet and ready for me, won’t need to prepare you, huh? Guess your disobedience has it’s advantages.”

All I could do was whimper, especially when he finally leaned over me again, resting his hard cock over my navel. “Feel this?” He asked, and I nodded once more. “It’s about to be inside of you, pretty girl.”

And so he grasped my hips and adjusted himself to start pushing in, spearing me open. Having him for the first time after a while was always a challenge, and although he always took it slow to get me used to him again, he was never one to give me time to accept the intrusion. He just took his time, thrusting in and out, taking note of every little moan that I released as his hips pressed against mine.

“Oh, fuck…” I groaned, wanting to wrap my arms around him but unable to do so, due to my restraints. “T-that f-feels s-so good!” I was positively trembling as he started to pick up his pace, cocky smile only adding to my arousal.

“Oh, yeah?” He panted, drops of sweat starting to form on his naked body from the frantic activity. “Then fucking scream it, sweetheart. Tell your entire neighborhood how good it feels to have my cock inside of you.”

I must have obeyed him, from the way my throat felt hoarse when I finally came back from my orgasm, but I couldn’t remember it. I was too far gone. All I knew, all I could focus on was the way it felt to have his cock rhythmically dragging in and out of me, the sounds of my juices reverberating off the walls.

“Pretty little pussy,” he complimented, eyes focused on the part of me he was so obsessed with. “Can’t wait to fill it up with my cum.” Well, that jolted me back into reality, suddenly pulling on his belt again.

“W-what?” Only when he heard my question and the hesitation in my voice did he raise his gaze to meet my eyes, a patient smile defining his expression.

“C’mon, pretty girl… You know you want it too. Don’t you want an ‘us’?” He urged while I could only stare back, mouth agape. “You know I want more, I’ve always wanted more. Now I’m ready to give it to you. And I know you want me too.”

His voice was soothing against my ear as he kept fucking me, “You want to be round with my baby, don’t you? You want me to keep you filled all day long, until your breasts are heavy and your belly starts growing, so everyone will know you’re now undeniably mine.”

And to be his is all I’d ever wanted, but I never expected it to happen like this. I could only watch, frozen in place as he came deep inside of me, moaning right by my ear before kissing my temple.

“I love you, sweetheart.” He’d never said those words to me before. I don’t think he’d ever said them to anyone. “I know it’s fucked up that I’m only now telling you this, but I do. And I wanna fall asleep next to you every day from now on.”

And so he kept me plugged, full of his cum even as he released my wrists and lulled me to sleep, and for the next seven days, when I woke up in the morning, he was really still there.

“You’re really here to stay,” I whispered on the eight night, cradling his face in amazement as he smiled before kissing my palm.

“Forever.”

#my 2k challenge #my fics #chris evans smut #smut #chris evans #biker au #rpf #rpf fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans reader insert #chris evans reader inserts #chris evans reader #chris evans fanfiction

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doubleleoenergy · 3 years

Text

vii. Heaven or Las Vegas, The Princess and the Pogue Series

I’m paying for all my father’s sins, so I'mma thank him for you. I'mma thank him for you.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, mentions of a hurricane, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, riding, swearing, mentions of drug abuse, mentions of child abuse.

Summary: JJ’s past comes back to bite him.

Words: 2449

The hurricane outside had dissipated before the break of dawn, a drizzle continuing afterwards, the sound soft against the Château windows. The Princess and her Pogue slept soundly through the night, with JJ’s arms wrapped protectively around y/n’s frame. A little after ten o’clock JJ’s eyes fluttered open, taking in the rays of light seeping through the curtain. He had turned the lantern off before they fell asleep the night before, the beams of daylight enveloping the room enough to perfectly view y/n sleeping against his chest.

JJ took in her features; her thick eyelashes, her full brows, her juicy pink lips set into a small line from the relaxation of sleep. Y/N’s breathing was steady, and JJ couldn’t help the soft smile playing on his lips as he admired her. She was so beautiful, naturally beautiful, and he felt things for her that he had never felt for any woman before.

JJ’s distracted by his thoughts, watching her body as it wiggles against his. Her eyes fluttered open with a sleepy smile spreading on her face. “Morning.” She mumbled, unraveling herself from his grip to sit up against the pillows beside him.

“Morning, Princess. You’ve survived your first hurricane.” JJ commented, pointing towards the window where the sun was now shining.

“I think part of that survival had to do with you, I don’t think I could’ve mentally gotten through the storm without you.” She leaned forward, their faces inches apart as she placed a little kiss against his lips.

“Mmm...well, if I get you in my bed for every future storm, I’d be okay with that.” He admitted though it was bold to think that way of her after knowing each other for such a short time. But shit, maybe it was fate, he didn’t know. All he knew was he wanted to feel what Sarah and John B felt, and he certainly was on his way there. “But something is missing from last night.” He added.

“And what would that be?” She questioned, raising a thick eyebrow in his direction. JJ snaked a hand down between her breasts, y/n shivering at the touch.

“Your orgasm. I gotta satisfy my girl, right?” JJ teased, tilting her chin up with his free hand to place his lips upon hers once again. Her heart fluttered when he called her his girl, the flutters quickly changing for heat between her thighs as his left hand that had traveled down her breasts found her clit beneath the blanket, rubbing the nub with his thumb.

Their lips melt against each other, kissing her fervently before moving his lips to her neck, sucking against the tanned skin. Her body snaked down so that she could lean back against the pillows, JJ pulling the blanket off her body to devour her with his eyes. His lips placed hot kisses down her skin, his tongue snaking out to lap at her left nipple, causing y/n to moan.

“Such a pretty sight, I’m hard as a rock just listening to your moans.” He admitted, sucking her nipple into his mouth, his fingers lowering down towards her entrance. He pushed two fingers in, feeling her sopping heat around him, another moan escaping from her lips.

He worked his fingers in and out slowly, teasingly, wanting her squirming underneath him. JJ’s lips moved from her left nipple onto her right, providing it the same attention as her left. His fingers picked up their pace inside of her, y/n’s legs squirming under his actions.

“Tell me what you want, baby.” JJ cooed, moving his lips off her nipple to hover his body over hers. Their eyes met, both blown with lust, and she licked her lips while bucking her hips down for stimulation.

“Please JJ, fuck...just do anything. Want to cum for you.” She whimpered, a confident smile on JJ’s face. He snaked his body down, parting her legs further apart to nestle his face between her thighs. He placed light kisses to the flesh there, kissing achingly slow towards her slit.

JJ finally let his tongue dart out against her folds, tasting her juices before removing his fingers from inside her cunt, allowing his tongue to take their spot inside. Y/N’s mewling underneath him, bucking her hips up into his face though JJ’s hands quickly grabbed her thighs, holding her in place against his mouth.

He lets his gaze meet hers as he spits against her hole, diving back into her cunt and making quick work with his tongue. Her head lulls back, eyes closing in bliss as she felt her breathing becoming ragged, her stomach churning for her coming release.

“F-fuck, JJ...gonna cum…” She mumbled, spurring JJ to lap at her faster, his thumb moving to rub at her clit to draw out her orgasm. He continues for another minute before he feels her release on his tongue, lapping up everything she has to offer. Her back arches off the bed as she comes down from her high, her breathing slowing down. JJ finally moved his face away from her pussy, licking his lips of the remnants of her juices, and moving his body up to press a kiss upon her lips once more.

“You taste so good, the sweetest shit I’ve ever tasted. Better than any cake or ice cream I could ever want.” He commented, moving to lay back against the bed beside her. Her eyes trailed down to his cock, noticing how hard it rested against his abs, the tip leaking a bit of precum.

“Do you want some help with that?” Y/N mentioned, glancing down at his cock with a seductive smile on her face.

“I mean, this morning was all about you. But of course, I’m not gonna turn down being inside your sweet cunt.” JJ responded, watching as y/n swung one leg over his lap, her body straddling his hips. Her hips moved until the lips of her pussy touched his cock, her walls clenching at the thought of having him inside her again. His hands moved to her hips, tilting his head back to look up at her. “You’re gonna fuck yourself on my cock, huh?”

Y/N nodded, rolling her hips over his cock, a guttural groan escaping his mouth. “I mean, we might as well try other positions now that you’ve popped my cherry, right?” She teased. She lifted her hips, grabbing his cock with her right hand and holding it up. Slowly, she lined his cock against her entrance before sliding down onto his length inch by inch. The position makes her feel even more full than she had felt the night before, her eyes fluttering closed as she savored the feeling. She kept her slow speed until his cock bottomed out inside of her, causing them both to moan.

“I’m so fucking full.” She mumbled, opening her eyes as her arms rested on his chest for support. Slowly, y/n lifted her hips back up, pulling almost completely off JJ’s cock before slamming back down. JJ’s nails dug into her hips, his grip tightening to hold her steady, his blue hues gazing over her body lustfully.

He watched the way her breasts bounced against her with each up and down movement, the way her pussy swallowed his cock every time she was full of him, skin to skin. It was intoxicating watching her come undone above him, her eyes slowly closing and her head lulling back towards the ceiling. She was breathtakingly beautiful.

“Grind your hips back and forth, Princess. You’ll get more stimulation to your clit that way. Want you to try to cum with me.” JJ muttered. She nodded at the instructions, focusing on stimulating her clit as he mentioned, soft moans falling from her lips.

“M’gonna cum again…” She mewled, JJ’s hands rocking her back and forth faster against him.

“Cum with me.” He commanded, thrusting up into her heat until they both came, riding out their highs together. Once they relaxed from their ecstasy, y/n pulled off his cock with a pop, rolling back to lay beside him on the bed.

“I didn’t even realize I could cum back to back like that.” She admitted, snuggling into his side again. JJ wrapped his arm around her, leaning down to place a kiss on her lips.

“I could make you cum way more times in a row if you wanted.” They both laughed before falling silent, reveling in each other’s company. It wasn’t awkward, the pace they moved physically or emotionally, completely natural.

“Do you and John B have any food that is digestible after the storm? I’m starving.” Y/N announced, looking up at JJ. He lifted his body off the bed, walking towards the dresser and pulling on a fresh pair of boxers. Sifting through the second drawer, he pulled out one of his favorite cutoff shirts, tossing it over to the bed for her to wear. The shirt was familiar to her, one of his favorites he’d throw on while they were out fishing or hanging around the Château. She smiled, pulling the shirt over her head, the fabric enveloping her figure and coming down to mid-thigh.

“Damn, you look good in just about anything.” He observed, stepping out of his bedroom towards the kitchen. Y/N followed suit, sitting down on the couch as JJ rummaged through the kitchen cabinets. “Alright, our choices are slim. We’ve got...blueberry bagels that can’t be toasted, also no cream cheese or butter. We also have a box of cheerios, no milk...and two slightly bruised apples.” JJ stated, turning his head in her direction and waiting for a response.

“Let’s go with a bruised apple.” She answered. JJ threw one of the apples in her direction, y/n catching it in her hands and taking a bite. JJ opted for a dry untoasted bagel, taking a bite as he flopped down on the couch beside her. She peaked out of the window, noticing quite a few branches knocked down from the storm, puddles of water all over the yard.

“How long does it usually take for the electric company to get the power back on?” She questioned, leaning back into the couch, her legs draped over JJ’s own.

“It depends, sometimes a few hours once the storm clears, other times it could take a few days. Seeing how the storm rolled in fast and out faster...at least until the end of the day.” JJ took another bite of his bagel, bringing his free hand down to rub over the skin of her leg in his lap.

They finished up their makeshift breakfasts, y/n going into the kitchen to toss the core of her apple out before settling back into the couch with JJ. The pair laid next to each other, eyes slowly closing until they both fell asleep against each other on the couch, JJ’s head resting against her shoulder.

A half-hour passed until JJ was startled awake by a knocking sound. His eyes popped open and he shimmied his body out from under y/n, moving over to the door leading to the screened-in porch. He stopped abruptly when he saw the person standing on the other side of the locked door, his blood running cold and his jaw tightening.

Slowly, JJ opened the door and stepped outside onto the screened-in porch, shutting the door behind him as to not wake up y/n. He stood against the wall, swallowing the lump in his throat, his hands firmly crossed against his chest. “What are you doing here, Dad?”

His father scoffed; his hands buried in the front pocket of his pants. “Not the warm welcome I had hoped to get after not seeing you in years.”

JJ tensed his jaw, standing up straighter. “I did as you asked; I helped you leave Outer Banks for good. You know showing up here could get you arrested…” He looks down, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. “Kie didn’t wanna help you that day, didn’t want me to help you either. I told her if I helped you leave on Malcolm’s boat, that maybe I would never have to help you again. I should’ve fucking known.”

“Now don’t be like that, J.” His father responded, taking a step closer, JJ’s body immediately tensing. JJ’s dad held his hands up, an innocent smile on his face. “I just need one last favor, then you’ll never have to see me again. Promise this time.”

Before JJ could respond the front door opened, y/n standing in the doorframe. She had changed from just JJ’s shirt back into her underwear, shorts, and bra from the night before, JJ’s shirt tucked neatly into the waistband so as not to look like a child in her father’s clothes.

“Who’s this?” JJ’s father inquired, looking between the two. JJ turned in the direction of the door, looking at y/n, his expression cold.

“Y/N…this is my dad. Dad, this is y/n.” JJ mentioned, watching y/n as the muscles in her face tightened.

“I’ve heard so much about you.” She deadpanned, JJ’s father tilting her head with a piqued sense of interest.

“Really? I wish I could say the same about you.” He mentioned.

“I didn’t say any of the shit I’ve heard was good.” Her head turns towards JJ, meeting his gaze. Her expression was full of concern, silently checking if JJ was alright. He gave her a soft nod before turning back to look at his father.

“You didn’t answer my question. What do you want?” He hissed, unable to control how angry he felt. The fact that y/n had to meet his father at all, that he was here at all, made his blood boil. There was also a twinge of fear, not as much for his safety, but y/n’s.

“As I mentioned before, I need one last favor. I’ve gotten myself into quite the mix-up with some men in Jacksonville, men that I owe a lot of money to. To get me out of this situation I’m gonna need you to break into Ricky’s house, grab the keys to his ambulance, and get any type of drugs inside. I’ll take them back with me on Malcolm’s boat and offer them in exchange for my debt.”

JJ narrowed his eyes, clenching his fists at his sides. “Thought you were headed to Yukatan?” He questioned, an unrelenting stare locking on his father’s face.

“Got chased out of there as well. Now, are you gonna help me, J? Do it for your old man.” JJ’s father pleaded. JJ thought for a moment, looking back up at y/n who seemed displeased by the entire plan.

“If I do this, this will be the last time I will see you. Ever.”

Tagging those who may be interested. Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged/untagged: @jemimah-b99, @midnightf, @serendipityrogers, @eireduchess, @calisamcro, @moniamaybank, @astrydis, @sokovianheadtilt, @blackwiddows, @matbarzalschain, @bigassnocash, @sspidermanss

#doubleleoenergyseries: The Princess and the Pogue #series: the princess and the pogue #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x fem!reader #jj maybank smut #outer banks

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

Text

Okay rockstars, settle down

rockstar!bucky barnes x assistant!reader x rockstar!loki laufeyson / masterlist

summary; having previously worked for loki, it causes a heat to burn within bucky’s already accumulated hate towards the musician / warnings; threesome, smut, mxf and mxm sex, mentions of sex with other characters, oral sex (male and female receiving), creampie, unprotected sex, double penetration, degradation, swearing, orgasm denial, cum eating

“Can’t believe you worked for that wanker.” Snarked Bucky as an image of the well known, musically spread, and acoustically acclaimed, Loki Laufeyson was shown on the screen of the dressing room television, as the other artist stretched his clothing bare arms across the back of the couch. “Come here sweet cheeks.”

At his command, you dismissed the paper work for a moment, trailing over and straddling the inked hunk’s chain belted lap, digging your manicured set of nails into his shoulders, as you seated yourself over his crotch. “I’m happy I work for you now Buck, you treat me so good.”

Punctuating your words, you pressed your teeth into your bottom lip, giving it the appearance of being more plump, as you batted your dark eyelashes up at your employer. “I do, don’t I?” He rhetorically asked, skimming his fingers across the length of your arms, before moving them to sloppily cup your jaw, ensuring that you would not look away from his wild and dilated pupils. “Tell me what I do better than the lead singer of the god of mischief.”

At his words, a small yet peaceful contortion of uncomfortableness split a skin grafted line through the centre of your forehead, stating that you had no wish to do so. And thus, as punishment for your self aversive silence, Barnes braced his knuckles into your skin, causing you to keen out, and tap his shoulders in verification for surrender.

In turn, you lowered your hands, dragging the tips of your nails, absentmindedly running them down the expanse of his waxed chest, conveniently passing the silver hoops that were attached to his nipples on the trail to a less dominant ground. “I prefer the way that your songs have a heavier bass and-“

“Uh uh uh, not the music. Think of something that has you, let’s say, screaming, but definitely not in a crowd. Though, we may have to try that one sometime; show the world how hungry you are to assist me.”

“You, James Bucky Barnes,” he loosened his grip to your relief, which lead to you hugging in spite, “are the best fuck I have ever endured. Loki has nothing on you, he deems himself a god of the arts, but he doesn’t see how you paint me so perfectly with your cum, nor how you bend my body to your whim, as though I am a tool in the midst of your creations, useful, but disposable.”

“I like the sound of that doll. Disposable, now that really does you make you sound like my personal cum dump.”

“That’s was certainly interesting to listen to...”that voice had your body jolting in shock, and it appeared that Bucky too was surprised by the presence, though, he steadied his well versed hands on your hips, claiming you to the intimate spot.

“What the fuck are you doing in my dressing room you greasy haired weasel?” Bucky sneered, his nose turning up at the sight alone of his competition in the lyrical world. Loki, he had graced you with his presence, and you had to look away; he admittedly looked good.

His shirt was open chested, leaving you with the memorable impression of all the times that you had left crescent marks upon that particular surface, a few times you had even drawn blood, but that had only fuelled his mission to fuck you into a propeller of urgency.

“Our new album Laufey has just been released, I can confirm my dear, you shoulda stayed around and knelt in our success. The records are certainly going to have more sales than what was it called again? Ah yes, the red star. I could tell it was about this one, so much passion, a sultry tune, that did little to justify what it means to be with her.”

Loki’s hands waved around as he spoke, and you could only picture the past whence he penetrated your with those long and talented fingers of his. He had drawn orgasm after orgasm out of you, resulting you to be nothing more than a withering mess, as he digressed the option to simply stop. There was nothing simple about him, nor the time that he demanded that he shared you with his brother.

That thought alone had you mindlessly grinding upon Bucky’s covered cock, plucking at your lip with the keys of your teeth, though Bucky’s voice brought you back to reality, causing you to pause your movements embarrassingly, venting a clear out of your head to process the situation that was before you. The two were bickering like two teenage girls, and it was quite exhausting to listen to.

“Answer the question trickster, else I’ll have you fed to the infamous black panther, and let’s just say that he is the best bodyguard I have ever hired. So, are you going to speak, or will I have you dragged out of here like a damned serpent with a noose around its neck?” Bucky threatened, gritting his teeth together, his nose straining in frustration, drawing more attention to the small stud on the right side of his nose.

“Looks like she needs me Barnes, perhaps your reputation does not proceed you. But to answer in full, my band have made quite the rise, and I thought it would be... fitting to pay you a visit. Though I had no idea that this wonderful woman would be here, pining on your lap like some feline in heat. I see she’s fucking you now, after all my suspicions are never wrong. Or we’ll, Heimdall’s train of thought always ends up at the right station.”

“Can the pair of you stop, for one goddamn minute!” Your hands obscured a path into your hair, as you glared back and forth between the pair of rival rockstars. “I am here, dammit! Stop talking about me as though I am not here, a part of me wishes that I wasn’t so I didn’t have to listen to your bitching.”

Without any thought, you clambered from your perch on Bucky’s lap, walking towards the raven haired gentleman, pointing your finger in his face as you accused him. “You’ve got your point across, but I’ll tell you something. If you don’t leave, Heimdall will see me putting my foot up your ass.”

“Does she speak to you like this Barnes? I thought she had loosened up in more ways than one when I allowed Thor to stretch her cunt, but it appears that that mouth of hers has gotten a little out of hand also. You should do something about that, or else you’ll lose her to someone else like a did. Who knows, could be Romanoff, heard she has a thing for brats.”

Natasha Romanoff, a diverse woman in her ways and songs. She was the queen of the rock culture, tormenting her workers with her verbal abuse and it would undoubtedly be no different for her assistant. If you were to be under her employment, it was certain that you would not get out alive, nor work for another talented person for the rest of your life. To cross her, was a vow to sign your own death certificate, it was plain stupidity, yet people still hustled with her and her limits, resulting in their chances of ever getting hired for any job, vastly slim to none.

At the lack of defence that Bucky provided you, you felt small, your shoulders slacked as you were tortured with Loki’s cold and silky gaze, more so when the man stood up, pressing his bare chest against your back. You could feel the rings that hung off the buds that adorned his chest coil and dig into your back, shrouding your demeanour substantially.

A part of you wanted nothing more than for Bucky to abuse Loki’s face with his fist, specifically the right, since it was the bearer to a chunky silver ring. It’d leave quite the print, however, the unexpected unravelled as his enquiring tone was aimed not at you, but Loki instead.

“You let your brother fuck her, hmm. Maybe she should learn her manners by being shared, that way her retrospective spattering of bullshit may be contained, to a limit of course.” It was unbelievably, you could not believe that Bucky was conferring with the enemy! And not only that, they were talking about experiences of having you literally become speechless from their unprofessional administrations upon your body. “I’d get T’Challa in here, but I know she’s already fucked him. Can’t quite fire him for it though, because who could ever say no to those pretty eyes, and that mouth, god, it is definitely one of her most persuasive attributes.”

“Bu-“ you didn’t even get to finish imploring his name off your lips, about to defend yourself and your previous actions, though, you were interrupted, starved from the opportunity of coming up with an explanation.

“No.” Loki told you, the roles now reversed as he was the one with his index finger aimed at you. He tapped your nose with it, as he began to pace in the room, his wild locks remaining in their place as he spun, before facing Bucky, a sly tranquility of a truce veining out from the pools of his evergreen orbs. “You don’t speak a word to me y/n, not whilst I’m having a conversation with James here.”

James. It was too far a polite way for him to address your boss. They were all hot and ready to tear out each other’s throats a moment ago, and now here they were, having a silent conversation without your inclusion. It had you reeling your mind as to why, until Bucky gathered your hair in his hand to the side, sliding you y/h/c locks over your shoulder, and finally deemed it acceptable for you to hear his voice.

Though, he still was not directing his tensive words in your direction. “Since you had dealt with this subordinate behaviour from her, perhaps you’d like to join us; help me train her to become more...” His breath fanned your the top of your ear, making your skin crawl by not only his warm and inviting breath, but also the offer that he had supposed to the other man.

“Obedient?” Loki asked in turn of his wispy ended offer of optimism, his leather, sharp tipped boots taking a prominent, heart clenching step towards you. He reached his finger out, grasping a loose strand that had fallen out of Bucky’s grip and before your face, tugging lightly on it, as his lips came dangerously close to your own. “Rules aren’t your forfeit, are they my dear? The best assistant I ever hired, with all those unique ideas floating around in that independent head of yours, but you’ve always been troublesome. I remember the time that you bit my cock that day you had attitude. I reckon Bucky here could do a better job.”

“Then why doesn’t he?” You hissed as said man tugged on his handful of your hair, instantly making you regret your phrase in the moment. To a halting surprise however, Bucky released you, lightly shoving you to cause you to fumble forwards, and away from him.

“Maybe I will.” He dared, earning a nod from Loki, whom seductively began to unzip his loose trousers, as Bucky descended to the ground, his hands running up his rival’s thighs, as the material dropped around Loki’s ankles. It would seem, that he had gone commando, and as Bucky grasped Loki’s shaft, you felt a pull in your chest inherently demanding that you play some part in this fornication.

“Wait.” Your hand shot out, as though you had some force to stop them from continuing with their war path to exact all of their developed spit onto you. “What about me?” You were ss

“Oh no doll, you are not pulling any strings here, if you wanna do something useful, come here and warm my cock, you can watch me blow your old associate.” A slither of a whimper fell from your lips, it wasn’t exactly what you were prying towards, but you sure as hell were not going to refuse the contact that Bucky was obliged to give you.

Thus you wandered towards him, your pinkies curling around one another, as you sashayed to the ground beside him, watching as he paid Loki no mind for a moment, ruthlessly in a desperation fuelled motion, unbuckled his thick belt, and shoved the material of his leather trousers to be held accountable against his lower thighs, just above his tense knees.

He too, as their exteriors supposed, had forgone the extra layer that kept his cock tucked away, though it was exposed as he tugged those tight trousers down, and the sight of both his and Loki’s cocks bobbing in the same vicinity had you close to quivering.

It was somewhat of a dream portrayed in the viscous space of reality, the two men half undressed in then proximity of yourself, it was something that you had always imagined, even before you had left Loki’s side, and opted to work for Bucky, but the idea was definitely short lived. They hated each other, but apparently they were willing to put all their issues aside to prohibit you from freely running your mouth.

Bucky’s cock twitched as he patted his own thigh, ordering you without the aid of his voice to commence it as a servant’s throne, or in your case, a stool for you to rest on as he tended to intimate needs of the man that you had once worked for. Finally, with the decision of better judgement, you allowed your grey jumper dress to slide down your body, leaving you nude, and the aspect of the two men’s unforgiving and locked gazes.

“No underwear, and you wonder why your men have no difficulty in her allowing them to fuck her.” Bucky took ahold of his cock, squeezing his cock with one hand, whilst his other aided you in sitting on his muscular legs, as he lightly growled up at the opposing rockstar.

From the stiff grip that Bucky affirmed around his sceptre, Loki gasped, his pale lips instantly shutting once the sound wantonly abandoned him. The last thing that he wanted was for Bucky to see him in vulnerable poise, though with that said, it’d be rather difficult considering the smutty circumstances.

Bucky took Loki’s long, alabaster prick into his mouth, starting from the primrose tip and descending down, reciprocating the action that you did yourself as you sheathed yourself onto his cock, but instead with his lips. A grunt rendered along Loki’s length as the man bit back a whimper, the vibrations running through his veins like a transpiring pulse of sorcery.

Bucky opted for bobbing his head, as you endured the liberation of his very slightly gyrating movement inside of you. Though, despite him being almost completely still and leaving you full to the brim with his thick length, his balls resting against the partition where he was delved into you, you remained transfixed.

The motion image, recording first hand through your own eyes, of him blowing Loki was sinful, but you were drawn to it. If that made you a sinner, one endorsed by the graphic scene, licking your lips from the sight of Bucky running his studded tongue up the length of Loki, dipping the ball of silver metal into his slit, then so be it.

Your heart raced as you were met with an opportunity. A globe of saliva, strung by the lapping muscle of Bucky’s tongue dropped down; you practically saw its fall in slow motion. It was done before you could register your actions, you had leant forwards, catching the trickle of spit in your mouth, thinking not for a moment as you gulped the subjective liquid down.

Bucky’s pace increased, he gagged lightly as he jolted him further down his throat. Loki hummed, harshly grabbing Bucky’s dark brunette locks, biting his lip as he reimagined your little catch. It had him feeling close, and just as he was about to finish, precum furiously pooling out of his tip, Bucky pulled back, a smirk marking his features.

“You’re not cumming in my mouth, I don’t mind sucking dick, nor swallowing, but I have to practically listen to you jizz over your own talent, and prowl over my girl.” The name he labelled you with had your heart fluttering, but not nearly as much as when he lightly pulled out of you, infuriating you with the lack of any pleasurable esteem. “Don’t you worry babes, you can finish with me inside of you, like always.”

That used to be him, Loki thought with a brewing rage in his chest. Though he instead shrugged out of his dull patterned striped shirt that was already loose on his shoulders. The fabric hit the floor, leaving all of you barren to the subject of nudity.

“Always doesn’t suppose the past Barnes.” Loki stated, referring to all the various times that he had found refuge in your spongey walls, you willingly clenching around him, and pleading for him to hit a deeper spot within you. “And I do not prowl, I don’t need to. The evidence is there between her legs, coiling in juices surrounding her ever so willing folds, that are prepared to endure the harshest of penetrations.”

“What are you trying to do, write a fucking song about this?” Scoffed Bucky, rolling his crystallised orbs at the guts that this man had. If he so much as wanted to, he could stop this passage into a three way all together, but he did not, at least he had yet to. He was enjoying the way that you were squirming to yourself, thinking that he didn’t notice, squeezing the sides of your thighs together in an aroused matrimony.

“A fucking song would’ve the correct term - literally.” Was the affirmed words of Loki, as he shoved Bucky to be sat beside you, tilting his messy brush of crazed hair, his untrustworthy eyes drifting to you. “Who’d you want to fuck you, you fangirling slut?”

It was truthfully a difficult decision. “Both.” You admitted, your bones jumping as Bucky pinched one of your erect nipples, continuing to hold a sturdy clasp of his pads around the sensitive flesh; you couldn’t jut choose one of them. Not when they were both in such close range, bore in nothing more than their birthdays suits, talking about your quivering and diversely accepting cunt.

They knew that you couldn’t possibly refuse one or the other. You were vastly too hungry to be filled like you had never been before, shagged by two of three most well known artists in the industry, earnestly and mindlessly earning yourself a title within the circle of uptight yet simultaneously chill performers.

Perhaps, if Bucky we to ever potentially fire you, there would be another pursuer for your articulating talents on standby, awaiting for the moment that you walked out of his complex door to swoop you up as though they were a predatory falcon, flying off into a stationed sunset, those around seeing you as nothing more than a shadow of the ambient orb, but the one who had employed you finding you to be a sufficing inspiration.

Large hands swallows your hips, firmly controlling their angle as they grasped you in their strong, almost super human hold, lifting you so that you were tentatively tucked in a reverse cowgirl position on Bucky’s lap. It was the third time that you had been this close to him, it would almost be intimate, if your legs weren’t strewn in an open, all revealing splay, so that Loki could see your boss tease his tip around your entrance before sliding you down his length, extracting a strong wail from your churning throat.

Your own hand resented down, applying swirls of pressure down on your clit; it appeared that they were willing you to continue without interruption. Bucky lightly, despite the power that he was promoted to in this position, began to bounce you on his shaft, spewing small mewls out from your agape mouth.

Fisting his cock, Loki approached, Bucky reachin this seen hands down to spread te lips of your pussy, so that the other man was guaranteed a crude glimpse of you being stufffed. Though, you weren’t quite filled enough, for Bucky raised a brow and prompted Loki to allow himself to be pulled closer by your axed and whining aura.

He brushed his tip languidly against your buzzing clit, dragging through your slick and jab i at your delicate fingers before probing at the base of Bucky’s cock, and pushing inside, right along his rival’s length, the pair moaning out in a pleasured union. On the other and, you had tears falling from the crescents of your eyes, the stretch so much that it was a blistering pain to your cunt.

“Don’t go all meek dear, you and i both know this is far from the first instance where you’ve had more than one cock in this nasty, betraying cunt of yours.” Loki taunted, gripping the vulnerable expanse of your throat from behind, his icy glazed skin sending provocative shivers down your spine, making your pussy pulse from the chill that ran through your body.

And then, i a split instant, both cocks began to piston into your walls, as though you were nothing more than a rag doll, meant o be thrown around and handled in a disorderly fashion. They ere ruthless, groaning out symphonies in the cursive air around you, as your walls engulfed their pricks more than snugly.

You felt so wide down there, they were taking a pirating toll on your body stealing every breath that dared wither from your lips, tweezing their nimble fingered around various parts of your body, all in due retrospect or coerce you into fucking them back, making all actions in the mass of bodies a mutual effort.

Loki lowered his head down meeting Bucky for a sloppy, brash kiss. It was clear they were simply doing that part to fulfil a greedy desire in your stomach, but you were not one that minded. It was, like the rest of their frenzy of collaborations, a competitive mess. They nipped harshly at each other’s lips, ravenously all in the meanwhile ploughing your body with their har girths.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” Your tongue dribbled, earning satisfied, lust induced smirks from both parties that were currently penetrating you, making you writhe harder against their lengths a new flow of moisture weeping out from your hole, lubricating their movements further, it encouraging them to do nothing more than continue what they were doing, despite their better judgements.

The truth was, they were rockstars. They had no better judgement, which is why everyone like them needed someone like you. Their thought were clouded with one mission, and for once in their spent lifetimes, it was not to beat the others, at least not to a certain extent anyways. It was their assignment, delivered by their own hands, to bring you to the edge, and that’s physically what they reformed to do.

One of them were groping your nipples, whilst the other confined the same treatment to your ass cheeks. Loki found your Rocky enables of positive feedback to be icicles and they were beautiful, he stared at them, as though they were divine ploys extracted from the mythical kingdom of Jotunheim, their residence in the realm to be the peacemakers of all bountiful creatures, much like himself and Barnes.

A rich euphoric groan exuberated from Bucky as he allowed himself to spoil, but he tutted whence he watched Loki’s features suppose that he was to follow shortly behind. “Not inside of her.” Bucky growled, sufficing Loki to roll his eyes, and pull out, the man behind you furiously replacing your hand, rolling our clit in his grasp until a sinful scream enveloped the air, commencing them all to the fact that you had just came.

Loki found the show to be unfair, and instead, spilled his priceless seed onto the huffing skin of your stomach, you eyes fluttered shut at the warm feeling pooling onto you. You leant back, drawing your neck into a crooked angle as you swiped your tongue wordlessly over the piercing on Bucky’s right nipple, metal providing a relief to the heat that your body was and had been swarmed with. “ Last chance you’re gonna have t taste her sweet cunt.”

“You do certainly have some faith in this one Barnes, but I do doubt that it will be the last instance in which i am todo so.” His silver tongue pried at your cum soaked flesh, drinking up all the essence that you had to offer, onshore the flavour that Bucky had brought to the table, i the form of a succulent drizzling of Snow White cum.

As Loki finishes swabbing his tongue over your cunt, Bucky adoringly kisses you, much sweeter than he has before. It was sort, and almost chaste, but his blue eyes roamed your face, delicately observing the high points of your face, that were covered with a sheen of great force making you as he would put it, glow.

The pair of you weer exhausted, there was still some swollen was to his lips from where he had sucked off Loki. His hands cradled you around your waist, his feet kicking Loki back as you whimpered from opaque sensitivity. “I guess that was you bidding me a dew.” Sneered the trickster, fishing for his clothes, as he spared you a spark filled glare, to which you ignored.

Once he was situated back into his attire, he left the sex scented room,a hollow smirk chapping his lips as he strutted th a purpose out into the hallway, taking a left instead of a right, and creeping into barnes’ studio to see what the man was working on in the midst of his enduring tour/ He was always the trickster, and nothing different was to ever be expected out of him.

“That was good.” You mumbled, rubbing your ode lovingly across the scruff that coated his jaw. His fingers made small circles upon your tummy, humming contently as he remained sheathed inside of you. He had to admit, he preferred it when it was just him, but his lonesome, sheathed within your walls, feeling the small trembles of your walls around him. It was practically heaven, and he would say so if he believed in such a place.

A deliberate knock ruined the moment, as the man entered,he quarrelled with himself where her to casually look in the direction of the pair of you or to avert his sight around, and blankly at the all. “What is it T’Challa?” Grumbled the man inside of you, quirking a thin brow at the timing of his presence.

“Loki; he managed to get into ur data, and he’s leaked a whole bunch of your music.” Of course, Loki would not come here to simply gloat, there was alas something extra up his green sleeve, and now it was revealed.

“Son of a bitch!” Bucky made a move to stand, but instead prohibited a whimper out of you as hi ships jutted angrily tip on instinct. “Get Odin on the phone, we’re going to have a little chat about his slippery hands son!” Barked Bucky, prepared t do anything to bring his greatest threat down, compiling him into the put of hate industry, until he was forgotten about, unable to ever produce new music again.

“Talk to Sif.” You whispered, becoming the image of his assistant once more, even if his cum lathered cock was prevailing within a rut of required stress relief, growing in the conjunction of your wall with his body guard there. “She loathes him, and rightfully so. He got her kicked out and she has dirt on him that nobody else has ever heard. If you want to take I’m down, she is your in.”

The strict tone grammatically supported by your logical information was definitely turning Bucky on again. He could handle you more than fine without Loki’s aid, he was just a means to an end, as it was clearly shown in his priorities.

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hangovercurse · 3 years

Text

Masterpiece

You and Colson have always had an unspoken agreement about what your relationship is, but one night might change everything.

Request: Hi, thank you for your imagines, love, they're incredible! I had an idea. Maybe when him and reader are getting close he gives a tour of his tattoos to them, cause the reader is very curious?

Colson x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of sex (nothing explicit but it’s there), a lot of touching

A/N: I had to do so much research for this, I’ve spent the last 48 hours staring at pictures of his chest. I know I didn’t include all of his tattoos, but he hasn’t talked about some of them or even shown them all that much.

Word Count: 3744

The only sounds in the room were your heavy breaths, mixing with his. You took a moment to compose yourself, the adrenaline still running through your body, before sitting up, bringing the comforter with you to cover your bare chest.

You scanned the room, looking for where your clothes had ended up in Colson’s mad rush to undress you. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?” Colson asked, his eyes wandering your body.

Heat rushed to your cheeks. You turned to look at him, a small smile playing on your face. “Careful there, someone’ll think you have feelings.”

He chuckled, reaching out to grab your waist and pulling you back down to the bed. You laid in his arms, head resting against his chest. “You should stay tonight.” He mumbled, fingers running up and down your arm.

You hummed, “Are you asking me to stay?” You looked up at him through your eyelashes, and he swore he almost fell in love right then and there.

You had never stayed the night before, you always just went to his house, fucked, and then left. Staying the night seemed too personal for what you were doing, two lonely souls finding solace in the dark but too afraid to face each other in the light.

“Will you stay the night?” He asked, fighting the urge to press a small kiss to your nose. You nodded, shifting so you were cuddled further into him, your left hand tracing the 1990 tattoo that spread across the left side of his chest.

His skin felt like it was on fire underneath your touch. “If you keep doing that, we’re not gonna be sleeping anytime soon.” He looked down at you, a smirk on his face. You let out a small laugh through your nose, dropping your hand to lay on his chest.

“Sorry.” You mumbled, “I just think they’re really pretty.”

“I think you’re really pretty.” You rolled your eyes, but a smile found its way to your lips. “Lemme show you all of them.” He sat up, pulling you with him. He reached over and flipped on the lamp beside his bed before pointing to the Est. 1990 tattoo that you had been tracing. “This one is pretty self-explanatory.” You giggled lightly.

“The raven I got done to cover up an older tattoo a while ago. I wanted something that would change the way everything looked.” You reached up, about to trace the dagger that went through the raven, before pulling your hand away. Colson smiled, grabbing your hand gently and pulling it up to his chest, silently asking you to trace the ink.

“Why the dagger?” Your voice was soft, but sincere.

He chuckled; you felt his chest move under your hand. “Thought it looked cool. I don’t know, the whole point of the raven was to be a change, so I guess it kinda represents killing an older version of me.”

You nodded, your hand moving down to the hourglass that rested below the claws. “That one just kind of looked cool. And it’s a reminder that we’re all living on limited time, so we should make the most of it.” You bit your lip, smiling at the thoughtfulness he put into all of them.

“And the spider?” You giggled, tracing his nipple and making him flinch.

He grabbed your hand, a tight-lipped smile on his face. “It goes with the bus.” He moved your hand to the red double decker bus beside the spider web. “Have I ever told you about the time I got hit by a bus in Manchester?”

Your eyes went wide, looking up at him with concern. He laughed, “It was like, 8 years ago. Don’t worry.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes dramatically, “I wasn’t worried.”

He laughed before continuing, “I got hit by this bus while crossing the street looking for weed at like 7 am. The windshield shattered like a fucking spiderweb; it was crazy. And then I just got back up.” You traced the stick figure that was flying off the bus.

“Sometimes I wonder how you’re still alive.” You joked, your voice still quiet.

He watched you intently, taking in the movement of your fingers around his rib cage. “I do too.”

“I mean, I’m happy you’re still alive, its just a little crazy.”

“Careful there, someone’ll think you have feelings.” He echoed a joke you made earlier. You pushed on his chest lightly, smiling. “This one,” he moved your hand to sit just under his armpit, “is the final scene from The Giving Tree."

“That was my favorite book as a kid.” You mumbled; your attention fully focused on the tattoo that you missed Colson’s adoring smile. “Why’d you get it?”

He was quiet for a moment, and you looked up to catch his pale blue eyes. “At one point in my life, it felt like I was giving away every part of me. I felt like the tree, I still do sometimes.”

You nodded, still holding his gaze. You leaned down and pressed a small kiss to the tattoo. This was the most intimate thing you and Colson have ever done, even more so than sex. He was opening up parts of himself to you, something you both had tried to avoid until now.

You looked back at the ink, smiling as your eye caught the tattoo on the underside of his right arm. “Jessica Rabbit, really?” You giggled.

He chuckled, raising his arm to show you the full tattoo. “She’s hot, what can I say?” You rolled your eyes. “You’ve never seen a cartoon character and thought, “damn, he’s sexy as hell”?”

You shook your head, holding back a laugh. “I wouldn’t get him tattooed on me.” He pulled you into his chest, arms wrapping around you. “I wanna keep talking about your tattoos.” You whined, looking up at him.

“I was trying to enjoy the moment, but okay.” He made a face at you and you giggled, leaning into his chest and resting there for a few moments, basking in his presence. You had been scared of moments like these with Colson, and you knew he was too. After Megan, he’d had issues trusting anyone, not that you blame him. But then he’d found you, and you had trust issues of your own, so naturally you two attracted each other while simultaneously keeping each other at arm’s length. But now the distance was closing ever so slightly.

You leaned off Colson, suddenly aware of the change occurring. “I gotta pee.” You mumbled, climbing off the bed, and walking to the en suite bathroom.

“Your ass looks cute.” He called after you, and you blushed when you remembered you were still nude. You took your time in the bathroom, sorting through your thoughts and reminding yourself that you and Colson only existed after 9pm.

When you walked back into the room, you grabbed your panties and pulled them up your legs, then threw Colson’s shirt over your bare chest. He groaned, “you just wanna cover everything up, don’t you?”

You rolled your eyes and climbed back into his bed. He was leaning against the headboard, so you moved to do the same, but he grabbed you and pulled you so you were straddling his lap, facing his chest. His left hand grasped your right, pressing a soft kiss to its top before moving it to his right arm.

“This one reminds me how to get home, literally.” He rested your hand on his 71 North tattoo, “but it’s also a reminder to stay grounded. Always remember where I come from, you know?”

You nodded, tracing each letter and number. “Same thing for the 216 East.”

“What about the compass star?” You whispered, hand moving down to his elbow to trace the seven-pointed star.

“I was gonna get there, don’t rush me.” He joked, pulling his right arm across his chest so you could see the ink better. “It has an E at all the points, because all roads lead back to Cleveland, which is East.”

“That was really cheesy.” You giggled, looking up to his face. He rolled his eyes, his right hand grabbing your free hand and intertwining your fingers. He pulled both your hands up and out, forcing you closer to him. Your faces were close, too close. You were worried he was going to kiss you, and more worried that you were gonna let him. He seemed to realize what he was about to do moments before your lips touched and pulled away, letting your hands go.

You looked down, both of you pretending that didn’t just almost happen. “What does this one say?” You whispered, pointing to the text on his right forearm.

He looked where you were pointing, and smiled sadly. “RIP B. Arnold. I got it after my grandma died. She was probably one of the best people I’ve ever known. She was so open and unjudgmental. She was really special.”

You frowned, “I’m so sorry. I had no idea…” You trailed off, still running your eyes over the letters.

“It’s okay, I got this done a long time ago.” His voice was soft, his eyes watching your face as you studied his painted skin. “But thank you.”

You were quiet for a long time, eyes moving over the other tattoos on his right arm before wandering back to his chest. Your pointer finger ran over the Locals Only tattoo and the Anarchy symbol on his stomach, before moving lower to the “Almost Famous” letters. “If you go any lower I’m gonna get way too distracted to tell you about the rest.” He joked, but you knew he was a little serious.

“That’s the second time you’ve threatened to have sex with me and not followed through. It’s almost like you don’t even want to anymore.” You teased, hands running back up to his chest and resting on his shoulders.

He raised an eyebrow at you, as if you challenged him. “Do you want a tour of my tattoos or not?” You nodded, a laugh falling from your lips. Colson shook his head lightly, looking down at your body in his shirt. “You are something else.” He mumbled under his breath. You were pretty sure you weren’t supposed to hear it, so you pretended you didn’t. You also pretended your heart didn’t flutter at the words.

You moved back from him, eyes scanning his rib cage. “What about this one?” You asked, pointing at the portrait of a man holding a sign that read “Keep your coins, I want change.” You traced it, smiling, “I like it.”

“That’s one of Banksy’s works. The political street artist?” You nodded your head, letting Colson know that you had heard of them. “I thought it was really smart and I like what it means a lot.”

You smiled up at him, admiring the way he lit up when he talked about issues that are important to him. “I like it, too.” Your hand moved up, finding the cursive name a few inches above. You were hesitant to trace it, knowing it bordered on the line of too personal.

“That one’s got a pretty obvious meaning.” He chuckled, seeing where your attention was focused. You smiled, nodding. “You should meet her one day.” He said without thinking.

Your eyes snapped up to his, and you could see the wheels turning in his brain as he realized what he said, “or not, if you don’t- I mean, you don’t have- never mind. Forget I said anything.”

You found his stuttering endearing. “If we ever get to that point, I’d love to meet her.” You whispered, trying to hide the smile that nipped at your lips. Stop it. The voice in your head screamed. This would never work out. You’re just going to get hurt.

Your hand rested on his upper arm, where he had an image of a building with an eye above it. “1984, huh?” You asked, the smile breaking through.

Colson couldn’t help the way he looked at you, stars in his eyes. “You’re one of the only people to ever get it without me telling them.”

“I didn’t expect you to be an Orwell kind of guy.” You chuckled, tracing the eye with your thumb. “It’s really good. I love the cracks in the building and all the shading. It’s beautiful.” Your voice held so much awe, Colson had to stop himself from grabbing your face and kissing you until your lips bled.

He hadn’t felt like this since, well since Megan. And that scared him like hell considering how messed up he was after she left. He’d been afraid to let anyone else in after that, which is why he was so grateful he found you. You were in the same position, you wanted someone to fill the space in your bed but nothing more. But as he spent more time with you, Colson realized he was starting to want more than that.

“I really liked the idea of the people versus this big overbearing power. Like I wanna believe that people still have a say in their lives, that I still have control over my life. Even when it feels like I don’t.” Despite all the stupid shit he did, Colson was incredibly intelligent, and it showed in moments like this.

“That’s amazing.” You breathed, still tracing the cracks in the bricks. A small blush made its way to his cheeks, and he turned his head away from you to hid it.

You flipped his arm to look at the inside, finding the words “Kiss the sky” in black ink. You leaned down, pressing a light kiss to the words. Colson’s head snapped towards you at the sensation, a small chuckle leaving his lips when he realized what tattoo you were kissing. “Cute.” He commented.

You smiled, lips traveling down his arm to the black heart. “Let me guess, you got this one to represent your cold, black heart.” You chuckled, rolling your eyes as he frowned, playfully.

“You’re so mean.” He whispered, biting his lip. “I did, actually, but you make it sound lame. I wanted to say something about the industry with it, how cold it made me.”

You nodded, smiling. “That’s not lame.” You paused, considering your next words. “Do you really feel like that? Like your soul is so dark and cold that there’s no more color inside?”

He studied you, the way you slowly traced the outline of the anatomical heart. “Sometimes, but then I look at Casie or Slim, or any of the people who I love, and who love me, and it gets a little easier.”

“You’re lucky,” you whispered, “to have so many people who love you. People that can pull you out of your head.”

You sighed, moving your attention from the tattoo, and shaking yourself out of your thoughts. His hand reached for your jaw, trying to hold your face but you moved away, looking at his rose tattoo. “This one’s pretty cool.”

He had to lean forward to see which one you were focused on. “I got that one after Bloom. It’s all about becoming a flower from a bud.”

“Yeah, it’s really good.” You sighed, moving your hand up to a red line near his heart, a tattoo of a cut. “What’s this one?”

He threw his head backwards, a laugh leaving his lips. “It’s so stupid now. I got it because I felt like someone ripped my heart out a few years ago. I thought it was really smart at the time but I ended up getting over it and now I’m left with this stupid tattoo.”

You giggled, “I don’t think its that stupid.” Emphasizing the word “that.”

“Here,” he sat up, moving you off his lap and leaning forward so you could see his back, “this is a cool one.”

You had seen the tattoos on his back a few times, but you’d never really gotten to study it. “This is beautiful.” You murmured, reaching out to touch it gently. He flinched under your soft touch, goosebumps forming on his skin. “Sorry.” You whispered, removing your hand.

“It’s okay, your hand’s just cold.” He chuckled. “It’s Dali’s Temptation of Saint Anthony.” He started, and your hand went back to wandering his back. “A lot of people interpret it differently, but I like the idea that the man with the cross is repenting for his sins. Reminds me that we always have a chance to become better people. We can always repent.”

You took in his words, not saying anything. You traced the cross in the figure’s hand, a small smile on your face. “And then, the MGK, of course.”

You rolled your eyes, “Only you would get your own initials tattooed across your back.” You chuckled, jokingly. “It’s really well done.” You reached up and rubbed his shoulders, squeezing gently. “Someone’s tense.” You whispered, feeling the stiffness of his shoulders.

He groaned as you gently massaged his shoulders, moving to sit behind him with your knees on either side of his waist. He leaned his head back onto your shoulders, looking up at you. “You are too good to me.” He mumbled, pressing a kiss to your neck.

You chuckled, leaning down to graze his lips, “I’m not doing this for free.” You mumbled, connecting your lips in a hot, needy kiss. He shifted so that he could twist his upper body to face you, taking your bottom lip between his teeth. You moaned into his mouth, hands moving up to his neck and pulling him closer to you.

He pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. “I thought you wanted to see the rest of my tattoos?” He asked, a smirk on his face.

You rolled your eyes pushing him away from you and moving back to his left side, sitting with your legs tucked under you. “I do, but I can’t help that I’m in your bed and you look fuckable right now.” You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his neck, just below his ear.

“Let me finish the tour and then maybe I can help you with that.” He rubbed your bare thigh as you sucked on his neck, leaving a mark.

You whined when your lips left his skin, a pout on your face. “What’s this one, then?” You asked, hand tracing the two X’s on his ear.

“It’s part of the MGK brand. C’mon, you should know this.” He laughed, obviously messing with you. “I don’t know it just kind of became our symbol after 19XX was created. It’s the family.”

You smiled, pressing a kiss to the black ink. “Cute.”

He blew air out of his nose, hands moving to the sheets that were covering his lower half. You raised an eyebrow at him, tilting your head. “I have two more that I wanna show you on my legs, get your mind out of the gutter.” You giggled as he pushed the fabric to the side, exposing his right leg.

You noticed the obvious tattoo, the marijuana leaf on his right knee. “That one’s really creative.” You said sarcastically. He chuckled, watching you trace the words around it. “Into the woods I go, to lose my mind and find my soul.” You read the tattoo out loud, biting your lip to hide the grin on your face.

“John Muir. I thought it was really meaningful. I keep digging my own holes in order to crawl out of the ones I’m already in. But I think it’s made me know myself better.” You looked up at him, your eyes shining bright. His eyes met yours briefly, and then flittered away, cheeks turning pink.

“Okay, last one. It’s not nearly as cool as some of the other ones, but I think you’ll appreciate it.” He pulled his knee towards his chest, angling the limb so you could see the tattoo on the inside of his ankle. It was two stick figures, one with a mohawk.

You smiled, “Radiohead but make it Colson Baker.” You mumbled, shaking your head with a giggle.

He nodded, “I was fucked up when I got this one.” He laughed, “But it’s kinda grown on me.”

“I was expecting some big lead up to like, the final tattoo that was gonna be so special. Instead, you give me two stick figures and the word punk on your ankle.” You chuckled, seeing the small pout on his face. “I’m kidding.” You laughed, moving to sit on his lap again, your hand resting on his chest.

“Thank you,” you whispered, hands running over his chest, “for showing me all these.”

“I’ve never really explained all of them to anyone before. Like people can see them and I’ve talked about some of them in interviews, but nothing like this before.” His hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you even closer to him.

You looked down, biting your lip. “Why’d you show me?”

He bent his head down to catch your eyes, nose rubbing against yours. “Cause I wanted you to know.” You smiled, meeting his gaze. Your hand reached to the back of his neck, pulling him enough that his lips crashed into yours.

You were expecting the kiss to be sloppy, hungry, but instead it was unlike any kiss you’d ever shared with him. It was sweet, soft, and oddly personal. It said all the things Colson was too scared to speak.

You pulled away, confusion lingering behind your eyes. What does he mean? What do I mean? What are we doing?

His eyes seemed to hold all the answers. I’m terrified to want you, but I can’t stop myself.

You leaned back into him, kissing him softly. His hands hesitantly ran up your sides before moving to your cheeks, cradling your face in his hands. “Let’s get to sleep.” You whispered after separating, a smile on our face. You gave his lips a quick peck before climbing off of him.

He turned the lamp beside him off, encasing you in darkness. You laid down on the bed, facing away from him. Moments later he settled down, facing your back. He reached out and pulled your hip so that you were facing him. You got the hint and flipped over fully, a grin on your lips. Silently, he pulled you closer to him, holding you tightly as you drifted off to sleep for the first time together.

#mgk #mgk imagine #mgk angst #mgk fluff #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #Colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker imagine #colson baker fluff #colson baker angst

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nagito-kissmaeda · 3 years

Text

Mr. Komaeda’s Lesson

THE FILTH ARRIVES

Summary: You should really proofread your assignments before submitting them... AKA: Professor Komaeda fucks you over his desk (literally my dream) Word count: 4258 Contains: she/her pronouns, explict sexual content, unsafe sex, professor/student relationships, gentle dom nagito (he’s very gentle i swear) Read on AO3 ミ☆ Please send me a DM or an ask if you’d like me to write something for you!

The soothing smell of camomile lemon tea wafts around the small office. The blinds are half open, casting the orange light of the setting sun across the smooth leaves of a peace lily that resides in a pot hanging in front of the heating unit. The warm air rocks it gently back and forth. The atmosphere in the room is light and pleasant, but it does nothing to ease your nerves.

“Do you want some?” Professor Komaeda asks as he pours himself a cup of the aforementioned camomile lemon tea. He has a little teapot sitting on his desk, it’s very cute.

You clear your throat, fidgeting in your seat, “No thank you, I’m fine.”

“Okay, let’s get started then, shall we?”

You’ve been dreading this meeting for weeks now. Your professor had been very insistent that this wouldn’t be a discussion about the quality of your work, but more about what he could do to help you maintain focus in lectures. There was also a brief mention about your most recent assignment, he said that he wasn’t concerned, but did want to run through a few things with you.

He was very polite about it, which makes the true nature of your distraction only more reprehensible.

“So, first I want to start with a simple question. How are you doing?”

“Uh, fine?”

He nods and takes a sip of his tea, “No problems outside of our classes? You don’t need to answer if you aren’t comfortable.”

“No i- uh. I’m fine outside of classes too.” You fidget again, twisting your hands in your lap, “I’ve been...tired? But that’s my fault, I stay up too late.”

He hums thoughtfully and rests his chin on the palm of his hand, “Could that be having an affect on your focus? I can see that you have been distracted in our most recent lectures and just want to make sure it isn’t a fault of myself or my material.” He laughs a little to himself, “I know I can be a little boring sometimes.”

Professor Komaeda is not boring. He’s probably the most engaging lecturer you’ve ever had, passionate about his subject matter and very enthusiastic about class participation. He also wears really tight trousers and has long dexterous fingers that you can't help imagining inside of your-

“I mean, being tired could be the problem?” A bold faced lie.

“Well in that case there isn’t much more I can suggest than a good night's rest.” He gives you a long look that makes you squirm in your seat, “I only graduated a few years ago myself, I understand the urge to make the most of your day, but you can’t keep burning the candle at both ends.” He takes another sip of his tea, a drop misses his mouth and rolls down his chin. He catches it with his thumb, which he then brings up to his lips and sucks. You swallow deeply, tearing your eyes from where his lips are meeting his skin. Your knee starts bouncing. Nerves.

“Would it help if you sat a little closer to the front of the lecture hall?”

It wouldn’t. Especially not on warm days when he loosens his tie and undoes the first three buttons on his shirt. You spent a whole lecture transfixed on the dip of his collarbones once. Not great for your note taking, “maybe I’ll give that a go next week” you say. Another lie.

“Okay, try that out and let me know if it helps.” He gently sets down his teacup and starts working his white hair up into a bun. His fingers are so delicate as he combs through the strands, pulling his hair up and away from his pale throat, exposing the length of it to your hungry eyes-

A noise escapes from your mouth. Almost a whine, but not quite. Professor Komaeda doesn't say anything, but his intense eyes meet yours for just a moment. You clench your thighs together.

“Are you ready to talk about your assignment now?” He asks, picking the teacup again. It’s decorated with sunflowers, almost criminally cute, “No reason to be nervous. I want to make it clear that this matter hasn't had any affect on your grade, just some advice for next time.”

You nod shakily. Despite all of his reassurances, you are still very nervous. Partially because you wanted a good grade, partially because you had worked on that essay day and night with the intention of impressing him. So stupid.

He gives you a pleasant smile and rifles through his desk for a moment, pulling out what you quickly recognise as a printed copy of your essay, “Take a look, i want to see if you can figure it out first.”

“Um...okay…” You skip past the title page and into the meat of the essay, reading through all of your points and making sure there weren't any obvious spelling mistakes. There wasn't anything that you could see, “Sorry...um...what page is it on?”

His teacup clinks when he sets it down again, leaning forward on his elbows and resting his chin on his hands. You can feel your heart fluttering in your chest, your palms are getting sweaty, “It’s on the title page actually. I’m surprised you didn't notice it.”

You shoot him a quizzical look and flip back to the first page. Your stomach plummets.

Titles have never been your thing, summing up an entire essay in just a few words isn’t easy, so you usually use a placeholder right up until you submit it. You remember changing it, you remember triple checking it was changed before you emailed it through. But something must have gone wrong because in big bold capital letters, the title of you assignment reads:

ESSAY SO GOOD PROFESSOR KOMAEDA WILL FUCK ME OVER HIS DESK

Your hands are shaking, the edges of the paper crinkling under your tight grip. You are going to fail...you are going to be expelled...you are going to-

“Ah. I see you’ve realised your mistake, hm?”

Your head shoots up, forgetting for a moment that he is still sitting across from you.

“Professor...I-I’m...obviously I’m…” you can’t get out a goddamn sentence, your mouth has all dried up, “I don’t even...I can’t…”

You are taken aback, when Professor Komaeda giggles. It’s a light little sound, he covers his mouth with a hand, “You are very bold, aren’t you?”

“I….”

“No need to worry, I’m not reporting this to the dean or anything like that. I see no reason to expel you over a silly little mistake like this one.”

“You...You dont want me to drop you class?”

He laughs again, you shrink under the intensity of his green eyes, “I’m not going to make you, no. If the situation isn’t going to make it even harder for you to focus during lectures, you can still come to class. I won't stop you, it is your choice.”

He is being remarkably cavalier about all of this, it’s almost unsettling, but you don't want to drop his class so you can't help being grateful, “Thank you so much, I...I promise i won't do this again.”

Professor Komaeda hums aloud, eyes half lidded as he looks at you from across the desk, “Won’t do what again?” he asks, though honestly its more of a purr, “Won’t think about me fucking you, or wont make the mistake of writing it down?”

Hearing the word fuck drop from that perfect mouth of his sends you into overdrive. Your thighs are clamped so tight together that your legs are shaking, you can feel yourself breathing hard, “I...uh...I....” you swallow, ��I won't do...either?”

“There's no need to lie to me.” He breathes, standing up from his chair and rounding the desk. You can feel yourself quivering in his shadow, he towers over you. Your breath catches in your throat when one of his hands makes contact with your chin, slowly lifting your head up until you meet his eyes. His expression is positively hungry, “I want to make something very clear. This is your chance to leave, if you do we will never speak of this again. If you don’t, well…”

All you can do is stare at him, mouth going dry with realisation.

“Your essay was very good, by the way.” He leans down until his nose is almost pressed against yours, you can smell the tea on his breath. You can feel the warmth of his skin, you can count his eyelashes, “Good enough that i’ll fuck you over my desk if you still want me to.”

In a moment of hungry lucidity, you grab him by the tie and tug his lips down to yours. Colliding in a positively ferocious kiss. You feel him laugh against your mouth before he slips his tongue in between your lips and traces your upper row of teeth, his tongue is wet and warm, your thighs are rubbing together as you grow desperate for any sort of friction. Professor Komaeda must be in a similar state, because he grabs you by the waist and tugs you up to your feet. Pressed firmly against him like this, you can feel the evidence of his arousal through his slacks, a moan escapes you when you feel his hips buck.

He laughs again, pulling away from your mouth to press a hot kiss to the side of your throat. You feel his long fingers toying with the hemline of your skirt, slowly slipping up underneath it, “These pretty little things…” he whispers, tugging on the top of your thigh high stocking and releasing it with a snap, “do you wear them for me?”

There’s no point lying anymore. You can’t stop shaking, “I...yes…”

You feel him moan against your skin, sinking his teeth into the join between your neck and shoulder, “Did you really think I wouldn’t take notice? Of the way you undress me with your eyes in class, of these tiny little skirts you started wearing?” He grabs a handful of your ass and you squeal, “you’re so gorgeous. You could have anyone in that class if you wanted, but here you are with me-“ he grinds up against you, cock warm and hard through his slacks, “-I don’t understand what I’ve done to deserve this.”

His voice is so soft and gentle, even while he’s palming your ass and grinding his hips against yours, he still talks like he’s giving a lecture on historical literature. It’s hot, how easily he is able to maintain his composure while you are little more than a quivering mess beneath him, but still...you want to see him come undone.

You hear more than feel your knees colliding with the wooden floorboards. Professor Komaeda is unable to give little more than a surprised look before you have his slacks and boxers shoved halfway down his thighs and his cock in your mouth. He lets out a shocked little moan, burying his long fingers into your hair as his hips stutter forward. Now that was the reaction you wanted.

“Oh...ohhhh-“ he whines, slowly moving himself in and out of your mouth as you tease his head with your tongue, “ahh...your mouth feels so good, angel.”

You were not expecting him to call you angel. It’s like a bolt of lightning to your cunt, your hands jump up the dig deep into the meat of his thighs as you moan downright salaciously around his cock.

“I can feel you moaning.” He whispers, “I can’t believe how much you’re enjoying this” you look up at him through your lashes and see his cheeks are red, his perfect lips are swollen from his biting them incessantly. You moan again just from the sight of him, he hisses and his hips cant forward deeper into your mouth, “wow. You...You really like doing this don’t you? Wrapping your perfect soft lips around my filthy cock?”

Filthy? That makes your eyebrows jump. You could always tell that your professor had some sort of inferiority complex, but you didn't realise it was...this intense.

“S’pretty.” You managed to slur around him, “Tastes good.”

He laughs again, it explodes from his mouth and shakes his shoulders. Unbridled, almost wild. He grins down at you, “I’m sure it doesn’t taste as good at you.” He purrs, tucking your hair behind your ear, “get up on the desk.”

Well, you weren’t going to say no to that. You give his cock one last long lick before standing back up from the floor, just before you hoist yourself up on the table, Professor Komaeda grabs you by the wrist, “Panties off, please.”

You feel yourself turn crimson, but dutifully shimmy out of your panties and let them drop to the floor. He smiles at you, hands curling around your waist as he leans into your ear, “that’s my girl.” He whispers, and lifts you up onto his desk. His hands are cold on the bare skin of your thighs peeking out from the top of your stockings, your stomach twists and curls as he slowly edges your legs open, and drops to his knees between them.

“Oh my god…” you squeak, he’s staring up at you with a look that is downright sinful and he doesn’t break eye contact, even when one of those perfect fingers slips inside you, “agh!”

He chuckles warmly, gently thrusting his finger in and out of you, “you’re so wet, angel...I can’t imagine why someone like me is making you so aroused, but I’m not complaining.”

His finger curls inside of you, and your hips jolt, “Mmph! Pro-Professor I-“

He smiles saccharinely as a second finger pushes its way inside you, “Nagito.” He corrects, pressing a hot kiss to the inside of your thigh, “We’re well beyond the need for formality. Don’t you think?” You cover your mouth to muffle a squeal as he adds a third finger. Your knees are wobbling and you can barely breathe, he’s just sitting between your legs and grinning at you, “Now let’s see if you taste as good as i imagine, hm?”

He pulls your clit in between his lips and sucks. You have to bite down on your hand to keep yourself from screaming, “F-Fuck...Nagito...I--hng!”

“It is after hours, you know.” He whispers, you can feel his breath on your cunt and you shiver, “There’s no reason for you to restrain yourself.” He licks your clit again and moans, “Haa...It may be selfish of me, but i want to hear you. If you’ll let me.”

“Oh god-” You hiss out when his tongue starts circling around you, “-keep doing that, and you’ll hear me alright.”

Nagito giggles and peers up at you, “Then I suppose I'll get back to work.” He hoists your thighs over his shoulders, and starts eating you out in earnest. You lean back on your elbows, and watch his soft white hair bob between your thighs as his tongue works it’s magic, he alternates between running the flat of his tongue up the length of you and focussing directly on your clit. Your toes are curling, mouth wide open with a constant stream of moans and whimpers that you have no hope of stopping. It feels so good, you had dreamt about this alone at night in your bed and even in those fantasies it hadn't felt this good.

His fingers slip out of you, but before you even have a chance to complain, they are replaced with his tongue. You moan so loudly that it rumbles through your chest, your hips rise up to meet his mouth and his hands curl around the soft flesh of your thighs, tugging you even closer. He groans. The wet muscle is slowly thrusting in and out of you when he presses down firm on your clit with his thumb, “I--mmph...Nagito m’gonna cum…” your hips are grinding relentlessly up against his face and you can feel your hair sticking to your forehead with sweat.

“Cum for me, angel.” He whispers, thumb rubbing your clit in brutal circles, “I want to feel you squeezing around my tongue.”

You throw your head back in a howl as his tongue slips back inside, the desk rattling with the force of your quivering hips. You can hear the slick sounds his mouth is making against your cunt, the way he is panting and moaning just from the taste of you. The tightness in your stomach grows unbearable, then he curls his tongue upward, and it snaps. You see whiteness behind your eyes, thighs shaking with the intensity of it. You can feel the vibration of Nagito’s moan inside of you and his fingers dig tight into the meat of your thighs. He’s enjoying your orgasm almost as much as you are.

When he finally pulls away from you, the lower half of his face is glistening with your wetness. He gives you a pleased smile, eyes half lidded as he brings his wet fingers up to his mouth and licks them clean, “I knew you would taste good.” He whispers, wiping the mouth with the back of his hand, “Think you can cum again, angel?”

Just watching him suck on his fingers is enough to get you going again, “Yeah, I definitely can.”

He laughs and stands up from the floor. His cock is flushed red and dripping, you suddenly realise he hadn't touched it that whole time, he must be painfully hard at this point. You lick your lips, you can't help it. He follows your line of sight and smiles, “Be a good girl and bend over the desk for me, please.”

You slide down off the desk, ready to follow his orders but quickly stop yourself, “Oh. One second.”

“Hm?”

You grab the teapot from the desk and quickly rest it on the windowsill, “Sorry. That was a disaster waiting to happen.”

“Ah, yes. You’re right.” His hand slips up to your cheek, thumb resting on your lips. He smiles when you pull it into your mouth and suck, “I’ll have to thank you for saving my carpet. Unless you see any other hazards, i would still like to fuck you.”

That word again. It sounds doubly filthy when he says it, the way his lips mold around it is downright sinful. A shaky moan drops from your mouth as you turn around and do as he asks, your breasts are squished up against the sturdy wood, and the desk is a little too tall for you, your feet are dangling just above the floor. You’re shaking with anticpation, and it grows even worse when you feel the warmth of Nagito’s palm caressing your ass, “For my own peace of mind…” he whispers, his other hand running a finger up the length of your sex, “When do you graduate?”

You laugh, “It’s a little late for that, isn't it, Professor?” you feel his hand still on your ass and you clear your throat, “Uh, this is my last semester. A few months.”

He sighs pleasantly, “Ah, that’s good. This has been very fun, though i'm not sure we should do it again.” You feel the head of his cock kiss your entrance and hiss through your teeth, “At least...not for a few months.” You can hear the smirk on his face.

“I’ve waited this long.” You say, grinding backwards into his cock, “I can wait again.”

He leans down until his mouth is right beside your ear, “Good girl.” He whispers, and finally thrusts inside of you. It feels so good, he fills you so well. Your cheek is pressed firmly against the hard wood of the desk and a pathetic little mewl escapes your mouth at the feeling. You cunt already dripping from your last orgasm, you take him so easily, so smoothly. It feels like he is meant to be inside you.

You feel a hand on your lower back, pushing you further down onto the desk and Nagito hisses through his teeth. Pumping slowly and deeply inside of you, like he is savoring it, “You’re doing so well, angel. I--fuck...You’re so warm.” his breathing is laboured, the rhythmic sound of his hips hitting your ass is echoing around the room, “I still can’t believe you’re letting me do this to you. I must be the luckiest man alive.”

“Please...more!” you whine, trying to force him deeper inside of you with the movement of your hips.

Nagito lets out a strangled moan and starts pounding faster, one of his hands slipping down between your legs to circle your clit, you cry out at the extra stimulation, toes curling inside of your shoes. The desk is shaking with the force of his thrusts now, there's a cute little statuette of a frog that falls down to the carpet with a clatter, but he doesn't stop.

“You feel so good, darling...I--I don't think i can-” a groan rips through him and you can feel his thrusts growing sloppier, “-you’re so good for...so perfect...I can't hold--ah ahh” he swallows, “Please, angel, i want to feel you cum again.”

You’re close, mouth raw from panting and moaning, legs going numb from behind suspended in the air. Then, the finger on your clit presses down firm and his cock grinds up against your g-spot. That is all you need, you come unraveling under him, the walls of your cunt clenching impossibly tight around him.

“Ah, yes!” He cries, grabbing your hips and pounding you desperately, relishing in the feeling of your hot, tight cunt. Milking him dry, “Good, girl. So good for me.” Then, he cums, you feel his cock throb deep inside of you as his hips stutter and slow.

It is only now that you are hit with the realisation. You just fucked Professor Komaeda. Holy hell.

All you can do is lay there while he slowly pulls himself out of you. Wincing a little at the wierd feeling of emptyness. You manage to roll yourself over, laying flat on your back with your legs still dangling from the desk. Nagito laughs and presses a kiss to your cheek, “Are you alright?”

You laugh weakly, “We’re going to get in so much trouble.”

“Not if no one finds out.” He tucks some of your hair behinf your ear, “Don’t worry about it, I’m very lucky with this sort of thing.”

“I just dont want you to get in trouble.”

He giggles, “That’s very kind of you, but this was as much my choice as it was yours.” he runs his fingers down your cheek and gives you a gentle kiss on your lips, “I meant what i said, about meeting up again.”

You manage to pull yourself up until you are sitting upright, you give him a sleepy smile, “Yeah, me too. I like you a lot.”

“How very sweet of you to say, angel.” He presses his forehead to yours and tangles your fingers together, “Let’s get you cleaned up now, hm? Can’t have you walking home like that”

To be honest, you aren’t sure you can walk at all.

____________________________

A few months later, you are sitting in the local cafe and applying for some jobs on your laptop. You did well on your final assessments and graduated with flying colours. It’s only a few more days before you need to officially move out of the dorms, and finding a new apartment (along with a job to pay for it) has not been easy so far.

You huff and push your hair back from your face. Your phone pings, and you ignore it. It’s been pinging for the past few minutes and you are not in the mood to check it. The job you are currently applying for made you retype all of the information in your resume even though you just uploaded it, and you are not happy.

The phone pings again and you groan, grabbing it and flipping it over. It looks like it’s just the group chat, as loud as always. As you go to close the message notifications though, you see one from about ten minutes ago that isn't from your group chat. Your heart is racing.

Hello!

I still have your number from when you asked for an assignment extension at the beginning of last semester. I hope you don't mind me using it. It’s been a few months, I'd like to see you again, if you wouldn't mind.

-Nagito

Oh shit. Your heart is beating a rapid tattoo in your chest. You had been so caught up in the job hunt and apartment hunt that you had all but forgotten about...this. You swallow and manage to force your shaky hands to type.

Oh hey!

It’s nice to hear from you. I’m free this weekend if you want to meet up, I still live in the dorms though, so it’ll have to be your place.

It's only about a minute before you get a reply.

Lol! I was thinking we could start with coffee, but I'm not going to lie and say i wasn’t hoping it would end up in my bedroom.

This weekend works for me. I can pick you up around 11?

You smile at your phone, cheeks turning crimson.

Sounds good. I’ll see you then.

You quickly update his contact details in your phone from Professor Komaeda, to Nagito <3.

#komaeda x reader #nagito x reader #komaeda nagito #nagito komaeda #danganronpa #danganronpa x reader #danganronpa fanfiction #sdr2 #super danganronpa goodbye despair #FILTH

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genshin-impacted · 3 years

Text

liquid courage // Kaeya x Reader

Word Count: ~3k

Notes: gender-neutral reader, Kaeya/Reader; cw alcohol, established friendship; friends to lovers (real quick); tons of flirting/bantering (and kissing), PDA, third-person POV of relationship

Summary: And there it is again-- another chance to back away. You wonder how many times there have been close calls like this when the flirting feels all too real and your feelings almost bubble to the surface. Tonight, the two of you are a little tipsy, a little braver, and more reckless-- and you do not back down from Kaeya when he looks like he wants to kiss you.

Kaeya is an intelligent, well-to-do charming individual and the whole of Mondstadt knows it. As far as the citizens know, he’s the captain of utmost chivalry (especially to the elderly population), and to the Knights, he’s a thinker who, despite his status and position, keeps people at arm’s length.

Except for you.

For most of the people in Mondstadt, they take a look at you and Kaeya and there is no doubt you are the closest of friends. When you buy dinner at The Good Hunters, you always order skewers for Kaeya, and when you are late for your nightly drinking, Kaeya subtly slides his drink to the side to save a seat for you. In both daylight and nighttime, the two of you exchange words in a fast-paced banter that makes it easy for either of you to get along. Or so the common folk assume; they certainly do not converse with Kaeya the way you do, which has always, in some way or another, included some back-and-forth-- some more flirty than others.

"The bed was lonely without you," Kaeya croons when you finally get back from a week-long journey. You choke on your spit when he gives you his best sultry stare. Before, this statement would have turned heads, but the Knights and citizens of Mondstadt are far too used to hearing these snippets of your conversation-- not that it makes it any less interesting to listen to. (And if people take notes on the flirty comments for future use, that is neither here nor there.)

"The feeling is mutual," you coo, recovering quickly as you grasp your hands in prayer. "I spent every night looking at the stars and thinking how much they reminded me of your eyes."

"Oho, thinking of me before you sleep, huh?"

"Every night--"

God forbid a child hears the two of you, but for the most part, you keep it friendly. A jab here-- “I didn’t know you were such a… slacker”-- a flirty remark here-- “Kaeya, just who are you trying to show off to with that outfit”-- whatever makes the other's lips upturn and whatever comes to mind first almost like a battle of wits. However facetious your comments are to each other, the people do not question your friendship for the times you bump shoulders after coming home from an expedition in varying levels of wear and tear with a grin on your faces.

(“I’m just glad Kaeya has someone to look after him,” Jean answers when someone asks about the two of you. She pauses and sighs. “...And the other way around.”)

For whatever reason, no one has ever taken your flirty remarks to each other seriously despite how long they’ve been going for. Nothing has made them question your friendship for how long it has stood or how real the flirty remarks are (if they ever have been in the first place).

The problem with joking about something or doing something ironically is that oftentimes it ends up being quite real.

"Sir Kaeya," you say dramatically one day when Kaeya comes back from an expedition that takes twice as long. You place your hand over your heart, ignoring the way it beats rapidly at the sight of him safe and sound. "Oh, how I have missed you."

"And I, too, my dear heart," Kaeya replies back without a beat in between. And it seems you cannot hide the relief on your face because he drops his flirty grin to settle into a soft smile. "Worried about me?"

Without a flirty remark to hide behind, you can only nod.

(If not for the fact that sometimes you actually feel your face warm from Kaeya’s comments or praises-- and more so when they are actually genuine-- you would have been otherwise ignorant to your own growing feelings for a certain cavalry captain.)

Kaeya always ruffles your hair then, even if you squawk at him and jab at his non-injured side, and those feelings are placed in the back burner to brew later.

The tender moments come and go, and neither of you is the type to sit in it, for how easy it is to clear the air and go back to bantering. You don't mind either way if you were honest. You're the only one who Kaeya shamelessly flirts with and you're the only one privy to the thoughts he holds (especially when drunk). You hold a special position as his friend and he has a special place in your heart as well.

You would be lying to say that everything between the two of you was platonic, not when sometimes you catch yourself staring at Kaeya when he's not looking or wondering briefly what his hair would feel like through your fingers. (You attempt to run your hands through it once but he's much too quick and tall for you to catch him unawares, and now it has become a game that usually ends up with your hair looking like a nest gone wrong.) The thoughts come and go, and you are content with being Kaeya’s friend, for now.

"Another, please!" You wave your hand in the air as you grin, Diona huffing even as she provides two new drinks for you to bring back to your table. "Thank you," you sing, walking with a sort of sway that makes you spill some of the drink on your hands. You're buzzed, that much is certain; you lick at your hand to save what you can before you slam the drinks down in front of Kaeya.

"Bottoms up," you cheer, clinking glasses with Kaeya who laughs a little more freely now that he has a few drinks in him.

"Are you sure you can handle any more?" Kaeya asks, swirling his drink with an amused smile. "No use in pushing yourself. If you're trying to drink as much as Rosaria, you might as well stop now."

"Friends that drink together stay together-- or however that phrase is supposed to go," you say, waving your hand flippantly as Kaeya snorts in his drink. "Something, something, I can drink more. Trust."

"Stop," Kaeya laughs, putting down his drink and throwing his head back. You grin up at him when he throws his arm over your shoulder. "You didn't even give me a real reason."

"You didn't give me a reason when I caught you day drinking the other day," you retort playfully, and Kaeya snickers again, putting his hands in the air.

"What, can't a guy enjoy a Death After Noon... after noon?"

"You're terrible."

"I'm terrific."

You're warm from the drink pouring down your throat and the arm comfortably hooked around your shoulder. If Kaeya notices you lean into him more, he does not say a word, but you joke again, not straying an inch from his side as though you're addicted to his warmth. And aren't you, in a way? With how you keep coming back to the thought that your best friend is one of the most attractive men in Mondstadt, that his eyelashes are unfairly long, and that sometimes you wish you could kiss his eyepatch-- just to see if you can fluster him like he always does to you with you.

Ah, you think, feeling the heady pull of intoxication, there are those thoughts again.

You laugh lightly at something he says under his breath about one of the other customers in Cat's Tail and take the moment to push the thoughts away when Kaeya suddenly cups your face. You would complain about the way he maneuvers your face to his pleasure, turning your head this way and that, but you laugh instead, inwardly pleased by the attention.

"What is it?"

"Lipgloss," he says, and you blame the alcohol for dulling your senses when you only stare blankly at him, wondering if you accidentally missed a piece of the conversation. He snorts when he sees the evident confusion and explains, "Lipgloss-- are you wearing them right now?"

"No?" You ask back, laughing as you shyly swat his hands away to no avail, "I don't think so?" When Kaeya only hums, you reply back almost instinctively, spurred on by your thoughts and-- well, your remarks have always been on the cusp of being real. You press your lips together as your heart races. "Why, they look kissable?"

"Very," he says teasingly, and you smile widely at him as though the two of you were not in an intimate position.

There's always a way out, you realize, at every step of the way-- to deescalate, to redirect the conversation, and treat it as a joke. You could have changed the subject and talked about how dry the weather has been; Kaeya could have replied back as sultry as ever and dropped his hands from your face.

But he doesn't.

Instead, his thumb surreptitiously brushes over your bottom lip, and you look up at him and wonder what your eyes look like to him at the moment.

It would be easy to playfully push him away and call him a flirt. But you don't.

You meet his eyes and say, "Why don't you find out for yourself?"

There is a pause, then-- "Alright." And you can feel Kaeya close the distance between the two of you, his free hand wrapped around the arm you placed onto the table. Your breath hitches when Kaeya stops with his lips an inch from yours and looks at you searchingly.

And there it is again-- another chance to back away. You wonder how many times there have been close calls like this when the flirting feels all too real and your feelings almost bubble to the surface. Tonight, the two of you are a little tipsy, a little braver, and more reckless-- and you do not back down from Kaeya when he looks like he wants to kiss you.

Your eyes flutter closed, and that is the last thing Kaeya needs to close the distance completely.

It is a kiss that is all too chaste-- something that, when people think of Kaeya, is not what they would associate him with. But this is a Kaeya you're familiar with, have seen a glimpse of-- and you are warm everywhere when Kaeya gently slides his lips over yours and tilts his head to fit with you better. Everything is hazy, and you think it's the alcohol, but you're hyper-aware of the softness of his lips on yours, the way your hand reaches out to hold onto the front of his shirt, and the way he holds you so tenderly.

You think you can kiss him forever.

(Neither of you takes note, but the bar has quieted down considerably as the table next to you stares, gaping as the two of you kiss. And with their heads turned, others turn with them as the two of you inadvertently pull the rug from under all of them. The two of you are dating? Since when? Was the flirting never just a joke? What was happening?!

I need a drink, someone says, and the rest of them nod in agreement, much to Diona’s dismay.)

Kaeya is the one that pulls away first, laughing under his breath. “Are you even breathing?” He asks you teasingly, his hand still cupping your face. “I know I take your breath away, but you can’t faint on me.”

You snort, your hand raising up to cover your smile. “Sorry,” you drawl, watching as his hand falls to your thigh. “You were just so breathtaking I forgot how to do anything.”

“Well,” Kaeya says, his voice low enough to be a purr. “You sure knew how to kiss, though.”

You laugh, waving your hand flippantly. “Why, thank you,” you simper, doing a mock-bow. “Same to you. Excellent skills, Sir Kaeya; my heart skipped a few beats there.”

Kaeya lets out another laugh as you pick up your drink and smile into it. And like that, you two are where you first started-- almost.

The two of you talk about whatever comes to mind, bantering ever so often. But for the rest of the night, Kaeya’s hand stays on your wrist, his thumb rubbing over your hand absently, and you catch yourself staring down at his lips as he talks. If you end up in his space again, you stay a little longer, even as you start to sober up and feel your eyes grow heavy.

“Aw, is it your bedtime?” You hear Kaeya say from the temporary darkness you placed yourself in as you bury your face into your arms on the table.

“Shut up, Kaeya.” You snicker, swatting away his hands when they poke at your cheek. “It’s been a long day.”

“Well, I suppose I’ll just have to walk you home now, don’t I?”

This time you are the one looking up at him searchingly, watching for signs of whether he’s joking or not. Your eyes stop at his lips and you turn your head into your arms again. “...Sure,” you say. “Thanks.”

You aren’t sure if you can ever flirt with Kaeya in the same way again, with how your heart skips at the thought of him, but you will manage if that’s what you have to do. You push your stool under the table and throw Kaeya a smile when he opens the door for you to exit first. (You don’t know why Diona glares at the two of you when you wave goodbye, but judging by the cat-nipped smile on Kaeya’s face, you can probably ask him later.)

You’re surprised from your thoughts when you feel a weight on your shoulders, and when your hands reach up to touch it, you feel fur wrapped around your neck. It smells like Kaeya.

“You looked cold,” Kaeya says when you look at his cardigan wrapped around you before glancing back at him. He does not let you provide a response when he starts walking ahead of you. When you make a noise of displeasure, running to catch up to him, he laughs, quietly slowing down his pace until the two of you are walking synchronously.

For once, the two of you are silent.

Every so often your hands brush over his, and your thoughts are loud when they tell you how much you want to hold his hand. You think you will dream of that kiss you shared with him tonight, and then tomorrow the day will begin as normal, teetering on the edge of platonic and romantic. The more you think about the less fine you feel about leaving everything as it is. You don’t want to overcomplicate things but there are so many questions that you want to be answered. Did that kiss mean anything? Does Kaeya have feelings for you? Does he know you like him?

The walk to your home is much too quick this time around, and you are already shedding the cardigan Kaeya has given you as the two of you reach your doorstep. Wordlessly, Kaeya takes back his jacket and you open your mouth without anything to say.

Of all the time for you to be speechless in front of your best friend, it had to be now.

“Kaeya--”

“Good night then,” he says, a second faster than you. With the moon behind him, it’s hard to see his face, but you can imagine how his lips quirk up into a soft smile with how he speaks to you-- and your heart tightens. “Be sure to drink some more water. Can’t have you waking up with a hangover now, can we?”

You nod, lowering your head. “Yeah,” you say. “Same to you.”

The silence is deafening.

Without another word, you hear Kaeya’s boots shift the gravel underneath his feet, and though there is no more liquid courage coursing through your veins, you tell yourself to be reckless anyways. Your relationship will survive, you tell yourself. Whatever happens, Kaeya will be important to you.

You call out his name.

When he turns around, you ask him to kiss you again.

It’s hard to imagine what sort of expression he has on his face when you’re in uncharted territory, and the slow response has you sweating bullets. But then you hear a quiet “Alright,” and Kaeya is in front of you, putting his hands onto the wall behind you.

You are ready when he dips his head down to kiss you again.

It is just as good as it was the first time.

You wrap your arms around him, a hand buried into his head (finally!) and another clasped behind his neck as he pulls you closer to him with a hand on your waist. Those with Cryo Visions run cold but Kaeya’s lips are nothing but warm as they nip at you and press onto yours over and over again. You bite back a pleasant gasp when you allow him entry, his tongue sliding across yours that has you hazy.

You break away first, and you note vaguely that you are not the only one breathing heavily.

“On a scale from one to ten,” Kaeya says, holding you close to him with a grin, “would you say that was better than what we did in the tavern?”

You roll your eyes even though your face warms at the comment. “Bold of you to assume I would kiss and tell.”

“I do well with constructive feedback, you know,” he quips, making you laugh. “What? Are you saying I don’t?”

“No,” you say, breathless from the kiss and from the elation that everything was okay. “No, I’m just thinking how I would write an evaluation for you with strengths, weaknesses, and improvements--”

Kaeya kisses you again and you forget what you wanted to say.

“...Is this all I have to do to win an argument against you?” He says teasingly, and you headbutt into his chest, much to his amusement.

“It’ll stop working eventually,” you say, settling your hands behind his back as you rest your face onto him. He hums as he holds you close, and you look up at him again and grin. “Guess you’ll have to see how many times it’ll work though.”

And Kaeya laughs into the kiss as you pull him down for another one.

#genshin impact x reader #kaeya x reader #kaeya/reader #kaeya #genshin impact kaeya #kaeya alberich #genshin kaeya #genshin impact #besties to lovers is my jam

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lubdubsworld · 3 years

Text

Falling for you ( Falling from Grace) Jungkookx OC ( Complete)

Chapter 1

[ Read the rest here : Chapter 8 ( Final)

]

Rated : 18 +

Warning : . Fuck buddies? Or rather enemies that have sex. They just really hate each other but also can’t keep their hands off each other.

Sweat dotted the edge of my hairline and I felt like my entire body was on fire. I was wet, so fucking wet and the sound of him ramming into me, over and over again was absolutely obscene in the quiet of the bedroom. I was on my back, a thin black tie cutting off my vision and all I could feel was the steady staccato of his dick pounding into me.

“Oh fuck.. Fuck...Just like that Jungkook fuck....”

I could barely recognize my own voice. Wrecked and ruined, breathy and almost a whine.

My shoulders ached from being stretched up, wrists almost numb from the handcuffs that held my body up to the head board. I felt like my shoulders were gonna pop out and I panted, fuming at him internally because he’d done it on purpose, locked the handcuffs a rung higher than usual which meant that I wasn’t lying comfortably on the bed as usual .

“Look at you.... look so fucking filthy like this angel....” He smirked down at me, fingers like a vice around my waist holding me up and almost off the bed as he pounded into me, each thrust carrying the entire weight of his muscled body. It hurt so bad it felt good. My thighs ached from where they stayed wrapped around his slim waist.

“Fuck...don’t stop...” I felt my head fall back, the ache in my back intensifying. I was so close....so fucking close, I could feel the heat as it built up, licking its way up my spine, The angle was perfect, his cock had a slight curve to it when he was fully hard and that just meant that he managed to hit my sweet spot every time he pistoned in.

And God we’d been at this for so long now... almost a whole damn hour and my senses were frayed, my body so sensitive and wrung out that all I wanted to do was cum.

So, of course Jungkook being the supreme asshole that he was, chose that moment to stop moving completely.

My heart jumped to my throat in panic, my body lifting off the bed, chasing friction and his hold on my waist tightened, so much that I was sure he had bruised me.

“Hmm.... Don’t think you’re in any position to be telling me what to do, baby....” He drawled, voice husky in a way that made my ache worse.

“What- no..wait you fucking asshole ...” I screamed knowing what was coming and refusing to accept it. Fuck i hated him... Fuck Fuck....

He gripped my waist and slid forward again , but instead of sliding in he slotted his cock between my thighs, pulling my legs together so he could fuck into the gap and yes, it was really fucking hot but I was so close....I needed him inside me ......

“Please....Jungkook please don’t...” I begged, dignity forgotten because I was not a fan of delayed gratification.

“Shush shush.....What’d I say about taking what I give you.....and to be fucking honest, I’m not sure you really like my dick all that much...” He said, sounding thoughtful and my head swam in confusing. What the fuck was he even on about?

“What? Are you kidding me? I let you fuck me almost every damn night why would you-”

“So why’d you go have dinner with Namjoon hyung?” He pinched my nipples', both at the same time, twisting and pulling till I whines, eyes watering enough to soak the silk of his tie.

“What -- That’s... We’re not fucking dating....I can have dinner with who I want....” I snarled in disbelief, tugging fruitlessly on the handcuffs. Why the fuck had I agreed to this??

“Not after cancelling on me, you can’t... And certainly not with my brother, angel..” Jungkook snarled right back and I flinched when I felt his hand come down near my face. For one horrifying moment I thought he was going to slap me but what he did was rip the blindfold off me. Momentarily still blinded, I blinked till he came into focus and felt that familiar and unwelcome swooping sense of attraction.

Jeon Jungkook with his long midnight hair and ivory skin. Doe eyes that carried entire galaxies in them and those soft, thin lips that smirked at the drop of a hat.

Fuck him... Fuck him for being so fucking attractive that my heart stopped every time I saw him.

He was staring at me and the raging anger on his face really shouldn’t make me wetter but it did. I wanted to sob as my entire body clenched, aching empty and desperate to be filled again.

“You sent me a fucking dick pic... “ I whined in despair. “ You were literally in the office when I was at dinner with him , how the fuck was I supposed to know you wanted to see me....!!!?”

Jungkook reached down and began stroking himself and I felt my eyes widen in disbelief.

“Jungkook....” I warned, feeling the desperation morph into genuine anger now.

“I wanted you to suck me off in my office. Isn’t that part of what my dad pays you for?” He drawled and I felt fury bloom. Jungkook knew just the right words to say, whether he wanted to turn me on or make me feel murderous....

He scooted forward , straddling my chest and I bucked hard, trying to throw him off but it was fucking impossible. I flinched when he slipped a palm under my head, gripping my hair and yanking my head up till his cock pressed up against my lips.

“You owe me a blow job, princess.....gonna open up?” He gripped my hair harder and the pain made me keen.

“If you stick your dick in my mouth I will bite it off....” I growled, resisting the urge to thrash because it only made my scalp hurt more. He laughed at that and I stared at him, the pink of his dick right on my lips and for a moment I almost had a pavlovian response to it. Almost opened my mouth and took the hard delicious length of it into my warm mouth.

Shaking my head just enough to dislodge the head off my lips, I glared at him , my stomach clenching as he stared down at me, wicked dark eyes gleaming with satisfaction and pretty red lips parted in that sexy infuriating smirk of his. He gripped himself harder, groaning as his eyes rolled back a bit at the stimulation. I stared at how his long fingers wrapped around his length , the way he was so shameless in chasing his pleasure. His thumb traced the head, finger dipping lightly into his slit and he moaned, almost shuddering at the sensation. I wanted nothing more to touch myself, at least relieve some of the excruciating pressure between my legs but Jungkook had planned this, had put me in handcuffs fully intending to leave me high and dry .

I stared at him and he glanced back, his face momentarily open in pleasure, lips spit slicked and parted and tongue poking out as he let out a breathy, ‘ fuck’ and i knew he was close.

He always looked like a fallen angel when he was close to his orgasm. Fucking beautiful son of a bitch.

But no matter how gorgeous he was, Jeon Jungkook was an incorrigible jerk and I knew exactly what he was gonna do,.

I pursed my lips shut and turned my head away when he came , snarling when the hot wetness coated my face. Jungkook always came like a fucking hose and I could feel globs of it cling to my face, even my fucking eyelashes.

When I turned back , snarling and ready to unload on him, he was already crawling away, but not before scooping up the last of his release on his fingers and reaching down to grip my cheeks with enough force to get my mouth open.

I whimpered when he stuck his finger in, the familiar taste of his cum only making my body thrum in desperation. I hated him. Hated him so fucking much.

“Taste good, baby?” He drawled softly, chasing his fingers with his tongue and licking into my mouth, swirling his cum all over my tongue with his.

“My filthy little slut...” He whispered against my lips, voice tinged with so much feigned fondness that I nearly bit his lip.

“Take the handcuffs off, you fucker.” I growled, watching as he slipped on his boxer brief and his jeans. I fully intended to grab the vibrator on my desk and get myself off the minute he let me out of the handcuffs.

And next time....

oh, boy next time Jungkook was going to be on his knees begging me to let him cum....

He was sweaty and looked like a mess but he never stayed around long enough to even take a shower. Now that I knew I wasn’t getting fucked my attraction for him was gone, replaced by homicidal fury.

“Hmm.... I’ll think about it.” He shrugged, reaching for the white button down on the floor.

My eyes nearly bugged out.

“What the fuck do you mean you’ll think about it?” I snarled.

“Your sister told me she’ll be dropping by at around five today..... I’ll leave the key on the dining tanle. She’ll help you out...” He grinned at me wide and I felt my heart drop through my throat.

I spluttered as he dangled the key tauntingly , whistling as he moved to the door.

“THAT’S A WHOLE TWO HOURS AWAY JEON JUNGKOOK YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!!!!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Do I even want to know?” My sister stared at me in honest disgust and I knew I must’ve looked a sight , with dried cum all over my face. But i was barely listening to her. I knew exactly what I had to do....Knew exactly what I could do to have Jeon Jungkook frothing at the mouth.

“Areum? Are you listening..?” She called out when I raced to the bathroom. I quickly turned on the hot water , grabbing a washcloth to scrub at my face. Jungkook was going to regret this.

When I finished taking a shower, scrubbing myself clean and stepped back out, my sister was airing out the room.

“Mom has been talking about setting you up with people and here you are , whoring around with that Jeon brat....” She rolled her eyes at me but I ignored her, moving to the closet with my lingerie.

My mother had high hopes for me. After blowing through my dad’s entire legacy with her fancy clothes and expensive bags, she was now panicking. She wanted me to marry big and granted, Jeon Jungkook came from a filthy rich family but he was still the prodigal son and his father made it plenty clear that unless he danced to the older man’s tune, he would be out without a penny to his name.

But that was none of my business. I wasn’t going to marry the dude. I didn’t even like him.

All i really cared about was getting him back for leaving me unsatisfied today.

I grabbed the most scandalous piece I had, black and completely sheer. It left absolutely nothing to the imagination and I felt saliva pooling at the back of my throat just thinking about how Jungkook would react to this. The first time I had worn it, he had held me up against the wall and fucked me senseless.

“Why are you here anyway?” I asked my sister as she began picking up the different pieces of clothing scattered all over the room, dropping them in the laundry basket on her hip.

“Can’t I just come check on my beautiful baby sister? “ She smiled and I rolled my eyes .

Hana was the perfect daughter in every way. She was a professional artist, married to the gorgeously successful surgeon, Dr. Kim Seokjin who happened to own the largest hospital in the country.

And it was hard to hate her because she had endless patience for my shenanigans'. Because to be honest, this wasn’t the first time she had walked in on me lying debauched, courtesy Jeon fucking Jungkook.

Which brought me to my current mission.

“Okay. I’m fine. I’m actually on my way out so you can either crash here for a while or you can leave...” i waved dismissively, running to the bathroom to slip the dress on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I rang the door bell again, feeling my body thrum with impatience. Why the fuck wasn’t he answering the damned door? I was wearing simple summer dress. The fastest thing I could take off.

“Areum?” Namjoon’s surprised face barely registered on my face. He was in his sweatpants with a glass bowl filled with chips and he looked completely thrown by my presence.

I shouldered past him, moving to stand in the middle of the living room.

“Is everything okay? What’s wro-”

I grabbed the hem of the dress pulling it over my head and tossing it away on the couch.

Namjoon dropped the bowl and if it weren't for the ridiculously thick fur rug underneath us, the thing would have shattered to a million pieces.

His eyes were wide in disbelief, mouth slack in shock as he stared at me and i could actually see his dick swelling in hi sweatpants as I stood in the completely see through babydoll.

“Where’s the bedroom?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

‘Fuck, yeah...that feels so fucking good...” Namjoon growled , gripping my waist as I rode him, his thick cock stretching me out so good that I moaned in relief. Stupid fucking Jeon Jungkook.... Namjoon wasn’t bad per se but he didn’t know the nuances of what I liked. Jungkook had this sinful way of rolling his hips up into mine when I rode him and it always made me see stars. But no matter....this wasn’t the main reason I was here.

“Don’t cum... I want you to come on my face .” I whispered softly and Namjoon shuddered, grip on my waist tightening.

“Fuck..yeah,.yeah,.,.,okay,,.,anything you say.,...” He stuttered.

I reached down to rub my clit because I wanted to cum too and I sighed in sweet blessed relief as my orgasm washed over me, my walls clenching around Namjoon as I rode it out.

“Fuck, I’m close...” Namjoon whispered and i clambered off him to kneel between his legs.

“Take a picture.” I grabbed my phone and turned on the camera , pressing it into his hands.

“Wh- What?” His pacing faltered and I didn’t let him think too much , lest he change his mind...

“I want a picture of me choking on your cock , Joon oppa.... A picture with you painting my face with cum..please...please...” I blinked up at him through my wet lashes and I could almost see his mind disintegrating at the visual.

“ Shit okay.... okay...”

I wrapped my lips around his cock, sucking quickly and taking him in deep, my mind swimming with glee as he clicked away.

“Fuck, I’m cumming...” Namjoon began and I pulled away, opening my mouth, sticking my tongue out just as he came , making sure I stared straight into the camera as the first few spurts hit me, right across my tongue. I stuck a finger in my mouth, making a show of sucking it and Namjoon groaned, clicking away more pictures.

“Fuck...tell me I can get these pictures...” He moaned and I laughed, crawling up to kiss him.

“Sure baby.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I called Jungkook first, simply to give him a chance to redeem himself.

The thing with Namjoon was impulsive and while i didn’t regret it per se , i didn’t want to drag Namjoon into this without just cause.

“what the fuck do you want?” Jungkook’s annoyed voice made my hackles rise.

“A fucking apology for starters.” I snarled into the phone. The fucking audacity!!!

“Listen , I’m on the way to Sana’s place.... So I don’t have time for your toddler tantrums. I’m hanging up”

And he actually hung up.

I stared at the phone, shaking in disbelief.

I quickly flipped through the photos I’d taken , trying to find the one that would make him furious enough to ditch his fuck for the night. Sana? Who the fuck was she anyway>?

I picked the one that was most obscene, you could see my sheer bodice, my nipples and the curve of my breasts, Namjoon’s cock resting against my tongue, spurts of his cum over my tongue and my cheek bones and the highlight- my eyes staring right at the camera in defiance.

Perfect.

Nothing riled Jungkook up more than defiance.

I opened snapchat , sending him the pic.

I stared at the caption in satisfaction.

Your brother tasted better.

I relaxed against the pillows, glancing at the clock over the door. It was a little past eleven but knowing Jungkook.... he’d be here within the hour. He had a key to my apartment so I locked the bedroom instead.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Kim Areum!!!!!!!!” Jungkook’s voice rang through the apartment rousing me from my nap. I blinked groggily and stared at the mirror.

11.25 PM.

I felt a smile creep into my face. A new record.

The door into my bedroom shook on its hinges as he knocked on it. Hard. I moved to stand close to the door , reveling in the fact that Jungkook was on the other side, likely losing his everloving shit .

“I’m too tired, Jungkook...your brother really put me through the wringer...” I whined piteously and the knocking stopped.

“Open the motherfucking door, Areum or I’m gonna fuck you so hard its gonna put you in a fucking wheelchair .....” He growled.

I smiled.

“Good night Jungkook. Oh and you better leave soon...my sister is sleeping in the guest bedroom.”

Ignoring his frustrated snarl , I turned the lights off.

Kim Areum- 1.

Jeon Jungkook -0

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s note : I was just really inspired by that pic of pic of Jungkook in the see through shirt. Lemme know what you thought :-*

#jungkook smut #jungkook fics #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts fics #bts au #bts fanfics #bts smut

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miss-smutty · 3 years

Text

The Destructive Secret

Chapter 7

A/N- I'm back! At least I think I am 😂 I wrote this while I was struggling with writer's block so I don't think it's great but the next chapter I'm working on I feel back to the old me 🥳🤞

Summary- Are your lies finally going to catch up to you?

Word count- 2.8K

Pairing- Chris Hems x reader x Liam Hems

Warnings- Mature themes, cheating, swearing, smut

Strictly 18+ only!

Disclaimer: This is an entire work of fiction/AU and has no affiliation to real life what so ever! This is a fictional story about fictional characters who happen to share names and faces with some real people.

Posted: 2nd Sept 2021

Taglist:- @innerpaperexpertcloud @pandaxnienke @chickensarentcheap @jjpogueprincess @longlostinanotherworld @mostly-marvel-musings @darklydeliciousdesires @monet-belle

The Destructive Secret Masterlist <

The guy turned to leave before looking back over his shoulder at the door, his hand on the door handle.

"If it makes any difference I would choose you over your brother any day." He winked as he left the room.

"What the actual fuck." You shout, storming out of the bathroom in a huff. "There's no way he's gunna stay quiet, it'll be all over the press come tomorrow." You paced the room, your heart beating fast as the adrenaline rushed through you. This was it, this was how it was all going to end. Liam would know as soon as he saw the headlines, all those late night and weekend conferences at the same time as Chris was conveniently away with work.

"To be fair, he does have good taste in men." Chris' usual nonchalance annoyed you, how come he could stay so calm? Why did he make you sound like a crazy person for actually worrying about what might happen.

"It's really not funny Chris, do you want our business known by strangers before we even have chance to speak to Liam and your Mom Chris, she's going to hate me." You feel the warm tears dripping down your cheeks before you even register you're crying. The thought of their mom hating you upsets you more than the thought of Liam hating you. Cathy, their mom was like your own mother, from day one she'd taken you under her wing.

"My Mom would love you no matter what, you know she thinks of you as her own daughter. It's me she's going to blame, Liam's her baby."

"Yeah you're probably right but still what are we gunna do?"

"Let's relax babe, you don't know what's going to happen and you can't change it if it does happen so what's the use in worrying about it. Come here."

"You piss me off Chris, you're so laid back. This isn't something you can just sweep under the carpet. It's serious." You needed to take your anger out on him, to let it all out so you could feel better. The four walls of the hotel room were becoming claustrophobic, you wish you could just put your headphones on and just run for a while to clear your head, that's what you usually did.

"I know it is but what can we do? I've done everything we can do, now it's out of our hands. We'll work it out tomorrow, can we enjoy our last night together without all the serious talk?" He raises his eyebrow at you, smiling that sweet, goofy smile of his that has your heart melting.

"You piss me off even more when you look at me like that. I can't stay mad at you and how could I say no to that?" You put your arms around his back, loving the way his height makes you feel so small and safe. He wraps his arms around you, stroking your hair and holding you close.

"That's why I love you yanno."

"Why?" You ask, looking up at him through your eyelashes, your neck stretching to reach his height.

"Because you never say no." He laughs, a real laugh that you can feel on his toned stomach, shaking against you. It was the best feeling hearing him laugh like that, it'd been so long since you'd heard him laugh. Your life being full of a lot of drama and upset recently that you were appreciative of the little time you had left together.

"Maybe I should start then." You pout pretending to sulk.

"No way, I love how easy you are." He picks you up so you can wrap your legs around him, looking down on him for once. You punch him lightly on his shoulder, still pouting. "Ok, ok I'll stop teasing. You know why I love you though."

"Tell me."

He sits down on the end of the bed with you still in his arms, resting on his great big, thick thighs. He moves your hair behind your ears so he can see your face, studying it carefully with a look of adoration in his eyes.

"I love you because you're absolutely drop dead gorgeous, I mean the first time I met you, you literally knocked the air from my lungs. I've been obsessed with you ever since." He shuffles slightly beneath you, getting himself comfy. "This would never have happened with just anyone, I'm not a dick that goes around sleeping with his brothers girls." You give him a questioning look, your eyebrows furrowing. "Seriously, it took fucking everything in me to try and resist you. I'd never felt that before, never been one of them that wants what they can't have. Until I met you. Fuck me you were an absolute bombshell." You frown at him. "Are, still are a bombshell, don't look at me like that." He laughs.

"Tell me more." You whisper, feeling yourself tear up at his revelations as you run your hand through his hair, his eyes closing as you do.

"Am I stroking your ego?" He smiles slyly. "Do you remember the first time you met me?"

"Of course I do, me and Liam had already been together a year but you'd been in Australia. I was eighteen, young and dumb..."

"And full of..."

"Do not even finish that sentence, you're ruining the moment." He laughs at you but quickly gets back to being serious.

"You were eighteen and ridiculously mature for your age, I was twenty six and still acted like a teenager. I remember you walking in in that little denim skirt and tank top, smiling at me with that beautiful smile. The first thing I noticed was your eyes, the way they lit up when you smiled. You had me right at that moment, I was smitten. Then you introduced yourself as Liam's girlfriend and my heart sank."

"I can't believe you remembered what i was wearing, it was twelve years ago." You kiss his forehead, holding his face in your hands. So glad you had the opportunity to talk like this, knowing all this made you know you hadn't made a mistake. "I was so nervous walking up to you, I'd only ever seen you on photos and crushing on you when you were in home and away. Then you're there in front of me looking sexy as hell and I knew I had to make a good impression."

"Little did you know, five years later I'd be bending you over that table and giving you everything you'd been searching for?" He questioned, raising his eyebrow at you with a smirk.

"No, dick! Little did I know you'd sweep me off my feet and make me question everything I ever knew."

"I am a dick but that's why you love me isn't it?"

"Your ego definitely doesn't need stroking. I fell in love with Liam when I was still a girl and I fell in love with you when I was a woman. People change, needs change and..."

"And I give you everything you need." His hand travelled to your ass pulling you into him, pressing against his growing erection.

"You do, you need to work on your arrogance though." You laugh. "But seriously I'm done with all this now, we can't go on like this anymore. I want all of you, all of the time."

"So you've made your decision." His lips part, his head resting against your forehead.

"Was there ever any doubt?" You question, running your finger over his lip and grinding against him subtly making him groan.

"Fuck Y/N, I fucking love you so much it's crazy." He says through gritted teeth, holding the small of your back as you raise your hips, your face contorting with need. "What would you do if I asked you to marry me?" His hand travelled down the back of your shorts, cupping your ass in his hands.

"What do you think?" You tease, taking his bottom lip in your teeth and pulling gently.

"I don't know, that's why I'm asking." His face was set seriously, he wasn't joking, he wanted to marry you.

"Of course I'd say yes, once we'd dealt with everything." You smile watching his face light up.

"You're going to be Mrs Hemsworth and mine, not Liam's. I can't fucking wait." He picks you up, gripping your ass making you squeel before planting you back on the bed on your back.

Leaning over you, his palm caressing your stomach, kneeding your breasts with his long fingers. His erection poking into your clothed heat.

"You're so fucking perfect, are you ready to cause destruction?"

"Like now, in bed or?..."

"You know what I mean." He laughs, reaching down to attach his lips to your neck, sucking gently.

"If it means I get you then yeah, I'm ready."

"Right answer. You've made me the happiest fucking man in the world yanno?" His hand moves under your top, pushing it up to your chin as his lips finally meet yours. Kissing you deeply with everything he's got, your body rising from the bed to meet his.

"I think... I can... Make you even happier." You say between kisses, pushing down his boxers, your nails scratching his skin gently as you do.

He rests on one elbow watching you free his cock from its barrier. You cup his balls in your hand, stroking along the length of his cock with the other. He groans, pushing himself into your hands.

"I'll be happier once I'm buried inside this perfect pussy." He kneels between your legs, pulling your panties off before hovering back over you.

"Go slow baby, I want to feel everything." You whisper.

"Fuck, I can't guarantee how long I'll last." He moans, lining himself up and slipping in making you both moan as his cock stretches your walls perfectly.

He rests on his elbows, holding your face in his hands as he gently thrusts into you, wrapping your legs around him and pushing him in further, deeper. Hitting your spot with the curl of his hips, agonisingly slowly. You look into each others eyes, his forehead resting against yours. Tears in your eyes from the intense intamacy.

"I love you Y/N." He declares gruffly, his voice deep with lust.

"I love you too." You whimper.

Moaning everytime his thighs connected with yours, flesh slapping together, bringing your hips up to meet him. Him grunting with every thrust, your sex noises filling the otherwise silent room. The sound like a symphony to your ears, turning you on even more to hear his exclamations of ecstacy.

"It's always been you Chris." You whisper, making his pace become sloppy, losing his composure and restraint at your words. You can see it on his face as it twists, his cock twitching inside of you.

"Come for me baby." He grits his teeth, the muscles in his jaw tightening as his body goes rigid.

"Ah fuck." He brings you over the edge with the last of his powerful thrusts, your legs shaking around him, the feeling of satisfaction melting through your body simultaneously. A proud look on his face as you both come together and he falls limply onto your sweat laced body.

You stay like that for a while, both enjoying the moment, his cock still twitching inside of you. The heaviness of his body burying you into the mattress but you don't complain.

You don't want him to move, you want to memorise the feel of his heaviness and how his cock feels inside of you. How his rough face feels against your smooth skin, his hair tickling under your chin. You trace the muscles on his back, the defined shoulders and lean waist. Your hands gripping his tight, round ass and you close your eyes, remembering every dip and ripple, dreading the thought of being without him in your arms for at least another couple of weeks.

"I don't know how I'm going to watch you walk away tomorrow." He rolls on to his side, pulling you into him. "I think that's the hardest thing to deal with out of everything."

"I was just thinking the same thing." You looked up at him through your eyelashes, your fingers brushing against his tight pecs. "You know we've been doing this for nearly 6 years now and I don't think I've ever felt as close to you as I do now. It's going to be even harder for me to leave this time."

"I don't even want to think about it but we only have hours left together, what's our plan?"

"You mean when and how do we tell Liam?" You ask sitting cross legged in the bed, reality kicking back in. You have to go home to Liam and leave Chris all over again, back to the lies and sneaking about.

"That and when am I going to be able to see you again? I don't want to wait as long as last time, you know how crazy i start getting when I don't see you."

"We've got your cousin's wedding next week. I'll see you there." You risk a glance at him, pain set on his face.

"You'll see me but you'll be arm in arm with Liam and I'll be alone again."

"How about once the weddings over and done with, we can tell Liam about us?" You watch his face change, like a little boy.

"A week? I can do that, I think. But I'm not going to the wedding alone."

"What do you mean? A date? With who?" Panic laced in your voice.

"I don't know but I'm sure I won't be short of options."

"Are you fucking with me? Liam thinks you're dating a married woman, where you going to find one of those?"

"I don't know but I'm not turning up to a family party on my own again, my aunties can be fucking brutal."

"Well don't expect to playing all happy families and me being all nice." You sulk.

"Are you jealous?"

"Yeah, duhh."

"Come here." He pulls you into arms wrapping his legs around yours. Comfortable silence drifting over you both as he strokes your hair and you fall asleep in his arms.

***********

You wake up in the morning smiling, then remembering what day it is and that you have to leave to go back to boring reality and your smile fades. Chris stirring beside you, his muscly arm resting over your stomach, locking you in place.

"Chris, wake up." You whisper in his ear, admiring his sleepy, perfect face. "It's 9.30 we've gotta check out at 10." He makes an unrecognisable sound of exasperation, his eyes opening, puffy with sleep or lack of in this case.

"Aww man, can't we just stay in bed a little longer, I don't wanna let you go."

"You need to go check out first so we don't leave the hotel at the same time."

"Fuck sake. Back to reality it is then." He says all hint of jokiness gone from his tone as he sits up and rubs his eyes.

"I'm afraid so, I need to go grab my things. Text me when you've left please."

"Wow! I feel used, do I not even get a kiss before you run out on me?"

"I was just dealing with the business before I dealt with the pleasure, like I'd just leave without giving you a kiss." You threw yourself on him, wrapping your legs around him as he leant against the headboard. Taking his lips in yours, open mouthed kisses that left you both breathless.

*****

You packed up the couple of things you'd actually taken out of your pull along suitcase, you'd spent most of the weekend naked or slobbing about in Chris' t-shirts so all your clothes were still folded and packed.

You were anxious about going home to Liam and having to pretend again, having to try and not slip up about where you'd actually been. You literally had to go through possible conversations in your mind, conjuring up imagined answers to Liam's possible questions so you didn't get caught out. It was hard work.

Then you got the text from Chris telling you he was out of the hotel and on the road back home, followed by how much of a good weekend he'd had and how much he loves you.

You couldn't help having a spring to your step as you walked through the lobby, a weekend full of love making and reminiscing would have that effect on anyone.

After you'd checked out, the anxiety set in, like stepping out of this hotel would be like stepping in to an alternate universe. A universe that wasn't simple and easy like it had been this weekend but stepping through those revolving doors would mean that will all end. This safe feeling of being alone, away from prying eyes would end as soon as you stepped foot outside and it did, a ominous feeling sweeping over you, goosebumps covering your flesh. Maybe you conjured up the feeling in your own mind, manifesting it into existence but you couldn't shake it.

A feeling of being watched, was it your imagination or not? You didn't know, all you knew was how much you wanted to get out of public and back home. As you stood in front of the hotel, picking up your suitcase to carry it down the stairs, something caught your eye. A flash. And then another flash coming from your peripheral.

#smut #chris hemsworth #chris hemsworth fanfic #chris hemsworth smut #chris hemsworth x reader #chris hemsworth x you #chris hemsworth thor #chris hems x oc #chris hems x you

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sgtjbbhasmyheart · 3 years

Text

Drunk Texting Is(n’t) Bad for Your Health- Chapter One

Series Summary: Talk about your unconventional meet-cute! Bucky receives a text by mistake requesting he prove he's not Reader's sister. The easy dialogue between Reader and Bucky sparks a natural friendship, but could it lead to more? Bucky still deems himself unworthy of any form of affection or love. Reader is hellbent to prove him wrong. With the help of some (meddling) friends along the way, Bucky may get his happily-ever-after after all.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2101

Chapter Warning: Bad Language Words, tiny bit of angst

A/N: I started this on AO3 awhile ago. Now that I have a blog dedicated primarily to just Marvel/Bucky, I thought I’d add it here, too. Enjoy!

DO NOT copy or replicate without my permission.

Bucky heard his phone buzz as he was tugging a butter-soft tee over his head. He glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand next to his bed as he worked his arms into their respective holes.

9:36

Steve was long in bed already, so the text most likely wasn’t from him. Sam was on a me me kick-- No, what did he call them? Memes!-- of a disgruntled cat which he swore reminded him of the super soldier. He wouldn’t be surprised if it were him. Or possibly Nat. She picked up the new issue of Guns & Ammo the other day and was sending him pictures of a Mossberg MC1sc 9mm she was drooling over.

Smoothing the body of the shirt over his torso, Bucky ambled over to his bed. He snatched up the phone from the navy blue comforter and flipped it over. To his amazement, the text wasn’t from Sam or Nat. Or even Steve.

(917) 460-5480 work thing boring af. kinda tied one on. might be late meeting you tomorrow

He blinked several times at the message, uncertain how to respond. It was a wrong number, right? Bucky hadn’t made plans with anyone for tomorrow that he could remember. Plus, everyone he knew had the same work thing. And it was rarely boring.

Definitely a wrong number.

He set the phone down near the clock, choosing to ignore the text. Hopefully, whoever this person was, figured out quickly they were texting the wrong number and moved on.

Bucky pulled back the covers before climbing into bed. His body melted into the mattress, muscles relaxing for the first time since breakfast. Training had been non-stop all day today. It felt good to just be, for once.

He grabbed the book he was reading off the nightstand and opened it to the spot he left off. He cleared his mind, as best he could, and concentrated on the words on the page.

A few pages in, his phone vibrated alive again. Another text message.

(917) 460-5480 sis dont be mad youd be drinking too if you had to sit thru one of these business dinners

Bucky sighed. He had hoped his radio silence would have clued this person into their mistake. Wishful thinking. Before he could punch out a reply, another text came through.

(917) 460-5480 timmons is droning on about this new client. kill me now

He quickly typed out a reply:

(917) 308-3117 I think you sent this to me by mistake.

Bucky watched the text indicator pulse as this unknown person worked out their response.

(917) 460-5480 haha very funny sis

Bucky huffed at this person’s disbelief, thumbs working on typing out his next message.

(917) 308-3117 I’m not trying to be funny. I can’t be someone’s sister when I’m a man.

He set the phone down on the nightstand again, hoping this person finally took a hint. He opened his book back up to the current page, taking a deep breath.

The room’s silence was broken again by the loud thrumming of his phone skittering across the surface of the black wood veneer.

(917) 460-5480 how does kevin feel about this so close to the wedding???

(917)460-5480 will you still need a wedding dress or will you just get a tux???

(917) 460-5480 am i still your maid of honor???

Bucky chuckled at this girl (no, young woman) asking the essential questions.

(917) 308-3117 Your sister did not get a sex change. Yes, she will still need a wedding dress. Yes, you are still her maid of honor. Like I said before, wrong number.

An almost immediate reply came through.

(917) 460-5480 prove it

Bucky grew slightly irritated at the insinuation. Why couldn’t she take his word for it? He exhaled loudly through his nose.

(917) 308-3117 How?

A few moments passed before the device juddered in the palm of his large hand.

(917) 460-5480 selfie

Bucky blanched at the request. He could feel the color drain from his face, only to immediately heat with a blush. A selfie? That is the last thing he wanted to do.

Although he’d been exonerated for his crimes as The Winter Soldier, he still knew about the dislike people felt about him as a person, in general. They couldn’t get past the brainwashing or other persona. God knows he still struggled with it.

He couldn’t go broadcasting his face through texts to a stranger. What if she was one of those who didn’t understand he had no say in what he did or what happened to him under Hydra’s control?

What if he ignored the solicitation? He could do that. Maybe even turn off his phone.

She did seem the type to be very persistent until she got what she wanted.

True to form, another text rang through.

(917) 460-5480 i will keep texting until i see your manly face

One corner of his lips quirked higher. Yup, persistent.

He navigated to the camera app on his phone and switched it to selfie mode. He stared at the damp locks falling to his shoulders. His beard would require a trim soon, but it wasn’t scraggly. Luckily, he’d had the hindsight to shave his neckbeard in the shower earlier.

Was he considering this? Some girl says jump, and he asks how high?

He combed metal fingers through his hair, blowing out a breath.

(917) 460-5480 im waiting

Bucky growled at the text, running a hand over his face. “Okay, okay. Give me a second,” he said to his phone. He held it up to head height, half an arm’s length away.

Click!

He previewed the picture, assuring himself it didn’t reveal too much. It was, somehow, off-center, containing a bearded chin and half a smirked mouth, one nostril, and a half-lidded eye.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Bucky pulled the messaging app back up and then sent off the picture. He tossed the phone aside, not wanting to watch the taunting blinking dots as he waited for a reply.

The picture was barely recognizable, but someone like Steve or Nat could tell it was him. It would be okay. No one would know.

His phone vibrated violently near him on the bed. Bucky cautiously plucked the device up, debating whether he wanted to read her reply. What if it said, “Holy shit! You’re The Winter Soldier!”? The hope of this woman thinking he was just some regular guy knotted up his stomach. He didn’t know why he cared so much about whether this stranger thought he was The Soldier or not. He had no control over who believed the lies perpetrated as truth through the media. He could only wish for the best.

He blew out the breath he was holding in and eyed the phone’s screen.

(917) 460-5480 is it fair to say men shouldnt be allowed to have long eyelashes??

Bucky laughed and immediately thought of poor Steve.

(917) 308-3117 You should see my buddy’s. The girls swoon and complain at the same time.

He quickly added to the message thread:

(917) 308-3117 Am I correct to assume you believe I’m a man and not your sister?

The response was swift.

(917) 460-5480 oh shit ur not my sister

(917) 460-5480 this isnt 9173083447?

Bucky laughed again, the tension in his chest slowly unfurling.

(917) 308-3117 Unfortunately for you-- no.

(917) 460-5480 ugh im such an idiot sorry for the shit i said

(917) 308-3117 Don’t worry about it. I had a good laugh at your expense.

(917) 460-5480 oh god now i feel like a bigger ass

Bucky suddenly felt like backpedaling. He hadn’t meant for her to feel bad about her mistake. It was cute in a roundabout way.

(917) 308-3117 Please don’t be embarrassed. It was the highlight of my night.

(917) 460-5480 me forcing u to prove ur a man was the best part of ur night??

Bucky thought for a moment. Was it the best part? The training sessions had become monotonous lately, even with the new agents. The team hadn’t been on any missions in a few weeks, so it was pretty accurate to say he was bored around the compound.

(917) 308-3117 I suppose it was. Work’s been a little slow, and there’s only so much training you can do before it becomes tedious.

(917) 460-5480 training? r u in the military? ooh, r u an athlete??

A laugh bubbled up from his chest. It was comical to see her try to guess his profession. His selfie hadn’t announced who he was to her after all.

(917) 308-3117 Something like that.

(917) 460-5480 so mysterious! r u some assassin who needs to keep his identity secret? is that y ur selfie only showed a quarter of ur face??

He paled at the implication. Maybe she did know and was yanking his chain. How did he block numbers again?

Another text came through from the mystery woman:

(917) 460-5480 not that i mind u have a luscious mouth

Bucky guffawed at the comment as flames rose beneath the skin of his cheeks. He hadn’t remembered blushing this much in such a short amount of time in decades.

(917) 308-3117 How much have you had to drink tonight, doll?

(917) 460-5480 doll?? what r u my grandpa??

He chuckled again. God, he was old enough and then some.

(917) 460-5480 enough to not want to shoot my brains out but not enough to know this dinner isnt a party

(917) 308-3117 Maybe you should get back to your dinner? I don’t want to get you into trouble.

He regretted the text the second he pressed send. Was he trying to get rid of her? No. Or was he looking out for her? This person he knew nothing about. She was more entertaining than the recurring nightmare he’d been having for the last week, that's for sure. He'd cling to this unknown to avoid slipping into that black abyss.

(917) 460-5480 aww does the military-trained assassin athlete mchottie not want to talk with me anymore?? 🙁

(917) 308-3117 No!! I’m honestly concerned you’ll be reprimanded if you pay more attention to your phone than Timmons.

The last thing Bucky needed was to feel more guilt, especially if it was at the expense of someone’s livelihood. His shoulders were already heavy enough.

(917) 460-5480 thats sweet but dont worry ur pretty little head over me timmons wouldnt last a day w/o me

(917) 460-5480 timmons may be the boss but i run that office

He simpered at her swagger. He could only imagine what kind of office she worked in because, again, a total stranger. Did he want to get to know her more, or was this a one and done thing? Would she wake up tomorrow and want to continue the conversation or blow him off for the drunken mistake her first text had been?

Bucky stared at his phone for several more minutes, pondering precisely what he was doing and what his expectations of the night were. It’s not like he was going to meet her in person, right? Was he that delusional? He was an Avenger now. He didn’t get a social life. Not that he had one before but still.

He was startled from his reverie as the phone shook in his hand.

(917) 460-5480 did i scare you away??

(917) 308-3117 No. Just thinking about tomorrow.

(917) 460-5480 shit a military-trained assassin athlete mchottie must have a lot to prepare for mentally ill let u get ur rest

He smiled at the gesture. If only she knew.

(917) 308-3117 Send me a text when you get home. I want to make sure you arrived okay.

(917) 460-5480 such a gentleman! i don’t want to wake u if ur asleep tho

(917) 308-3117 I doubt I’ll be sleeping, but it’ll help ease my mind.

(917) 460-5480 alright ill shoot a text ttfn

(917) 308-3117 ttfn?

(917) 460-5480 ta ta for now god u r a grandpa

(917) 308-3117 Yeah, yeah

Bucky’s mouth split into yet, another grin as he set his phone down once again on the nightstand. He picked up his discarded book and found his place on the page. After a few minutes of re-reading the same paragraph over and over, he slipped the bookmark into the gutter of the book. His mind was too preoccupied with the thought of some random girl in the city at a boring work dinner. He realized he hadn’t stopped smiling since they temporarily said goodbye.

Maybe there was a good chance this conversation would carry into tomorrow.

CHAPTER TWO

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fanfiction #bucky fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic

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heli0s-writes · 4 years

Text

Eat the Rich*

Summary: You’re just a girl in a bar way above your tax bracket and Ransom really doesn’t care for what you’re wearing.

A/N: There are no spoilers for the movie. But, there IS... Smut. Dirty talk. Class warfare in the form of hate-fucking. 2.9k words of FILTH. I need to be exorcised for this. Thank you @evanstarff and @tropicalcap for sending me straight to hell.

The entire lounge seems to turn when you enter. Eyes slide back and forth your way, mid-conversation mouths dipping into low frowns. Amidst the old-money frat boys from Cambridge, Beacon Hill Barbie socialites, and Downtown business young bloods, you’re a flagrant contrast in ripped jeans and an old hoodie.

A favorite hoodie. An incendiary hoodie.

The kind of hoodie that is worn with pride around these West End parts. Even the group you arrive with tried to hackle you out of it— bachelorette party decorum, they cried, will you please take that thing off?

Your cousin might be marrying Silverspoon Asswipe and stringing herself up pretty next to all his call-girl friends, but you are a Jamaica Plain girl through and through and you will not stuff yourself into a glitzy cocktail dress before this hoodie.

She waves her hand at the hostess to distract her from your outfit, rustling the satin sash over her glossy sweetheart neckline, “Reservation under Prentiss; it was booked this morning?” And then a sharp look at you as if to say, you made the reservations, right?!

Duh. Your eyes respond when the hostess begins to lead your party back. You follow the tail end of the throng, veering off towards the bar; the miasma of Chanel perfume is enough to gag, and the cigar smoke is only a tiny bit better. Not like they’d care or even notice.

“Do you have PBR?”

The bartender stutters and before you can make him any more uncomfortable, a deep voice from beside you nips it in the bud.

Broad shoulders turn until you see his face. Amused, with a single raised eyebrow, mouth just barely tilting up at one corner. Mid-thirties and extremely well-groomed. Slicked back brown hair and classic Ray Bans hang from the collar of his sweater. Too handsome for his own good with the unmistakable swagger of someone grown up filthy rich.

“She’ll have the Glenfiddich. Neat.”

Certainly smug enough to butt in like you’re old friends.

“Will she?” You ponder defiantly at the pursed lips nestled over a strong jaw.

His own thick crystal glass is easily tipped into his mouth when he takes a too-large swig. Signet rings on two left fingers glimmer, and with a low exhale bordering a growl, he hisses through his teeth, “Yeah. I think you will.”

Bold blue eyes roam over your top and the statement printed there for a second before he scrutinizes your face. Then, purposefully—and knowing that your eyes are on him-- he looks back down to the swell of your chest.

A hum of approval before he faces forward again, only giving you his side profile.

“Wow,” you scoff, “Dick.”

The grin that splits his mouth for a second looks angelic if angels could be full-grown men with full-grown egos to match. “Close. It’s Ransom.”

Amber sloshes when the bartender returns, and you chance a sip because even your pride isn’t stupid enough to pass on a free glass of Glenfiddich.

The whiskey bites for a second before rolling smoothly down your throat. There’s an inherently superior taste to these luxury drinks, but you pull a face all the same, unwilling to give him the satisfaction. Ransom chuckles, head turning just a tad as he looks to you from the corner of his eye.

“You making a statement with that thing on, or what?”

“You’re the one making a statement with that ladies wool scarf from Drake’s.”

Ransom jerks to you fully now, attention snatched by your wit as he leans in, “Where’d you come from, little girl? Not everyone walks into Carver’s dressed in rags.”

He really is a piece of work. When you tell him your neighborhood, as expected, he snorts with disdain, but his eyes fall back on you again, highly intrigued. “There’s more to you, isn’t there? My scarf, that attitude. Someone taught you a thing or two, didn’t they?”

The single-malt mouthful is singing in your veins and if your confidence was thinking about simmering down for a second, it’s forgotten itself inside the furious swirl. The hand around your empty glass clutches just a tiny bit tighter.

“Oh, come on,” Ransom waggles two fingers for another round, “Let’s see, I’m thinking… blue-collar parents, siblings, maybe with shared rooms in your dilapidated Jamaica Plain home?” A tap of his finger to that pink bottom lip too damn pretty to be on his wretched face, he pretends to mull a thought over.

He looks you up and down, taking just enough time to where you feel violated under his gaze, “I know: Public college. Two-year community. Working a day job in Back Bay made you bitter, didn’t it? Hence, statement piece.”

“Asshole,” you snap, unraveling at the seams with rage, and the bartender quickly flits away again, “Full ride to Northeastern, four years with honors. Back Bay can’t fucking afford me.”

You don’t know how he does it, but his derisive silence incenses you even more. He couples it with a slow flick of his tongue over teeth, flagrant staring, and the piercing blue of his eyes spotlight a trail—across your shoulders, down your arm, jumping from your fingertip to your thigh, and then it dips between.

Every inch of your body prickles alive with reaction, so naturally, you spit, “Fuck you.”

Ransom’s smile grows until it nearly looks genuine, but then the sharp points of his canines sink right into your gut.

“When?”

There is something ugly and incredible simmering behind his thick curtain eyelashes. A clear ocean grows stormy, sizzling like a cruel tempest rushing to life. The yellow gaussian blur from dim scone lights suddenly cast shadows over his sharp nose.

He slaps too many bills on the polished ebony and the swish of his scarf flicks over your knee when he stands. Ransom towers over you, light pink flush of inebriation and excitement growing hotter on his sculpted cheeks. He leans in, the open flaps of his overcoat falling around your shoulder, threatening to swallow you inside all his dark.

Low timbre and dusky spice goads, “Put your money where your mouth is, scholarship; that sweater’s not all talk, is it?”

Dick!

Big hands yank the hem up over your head for a second before something changes his mind. The heavy steel door is latched twice over and he’s pushing you into it with his imposing frame. Your skull hits the metal as his knee parts your thigh, leg shoving itself up in-between until you’re on your tip-toes, with nothing to do but land on him. The heat of it rushes all the way up to the top of your head, pouring from your mouth in a choked mewl.

Ransom rucks the top over your breasts until the words scrunch up at your collarbones and you think it must bring him some masochistic satisfaction to know their unforgiving glare:

Eat the Rich

His warning chills your spine.

“I’m gonna fuck that line from your brain. Fuck it right out.”

He yanks everything south of your waist to your ankles and pulls himself free from his pants, effortlessly tearing a condom from inside his leather wallet and slipping it on. Between the time he gets your bare ass on the counter and the sound of the rubber snap, he’s already branded a purple streak onto the side of your neck and you’re embarrassingly wet.

Your breath hitches in your throat when you see his length rising from beneath his cable-knit. Bright pink and angry, and so goddamn thick it makes you whimper. Ransom smothers it with his demanding and hungry mouth, impatient at being empty, stinging with whiskey and force. He’s probably never waited on anything in his life and within a short fifteen minutes of meeting him, you know that to be true.

Not a care in the world is given as goosebumps break out all over your arms.

He spins you into the sink countertop and then the two of you are staring at each other in the mirror’s reflection. His hands return to your hips with a bruising clutch and those thick fingers begin to rub the slick between your folds all over your thighs. Fucking A-- It’s good. Idiot rich boy does have the Midas Touch.

One long leg kicks your jeans completely off, sole of his shoes stomping all over them. He’s unforgivingly large and he knows it because everything about Ransom Drysdale is a statement: his clothes, his attitude, his dick. There’s a joke in here somewhere about him being the very epitome of it, but he’s glaring at you with that pretty bottom lip stretched between perfect white teeth and maybe you can forgive the fact that he’s leaving boot marks all over your jeans and bruises in the shape of fingerprints on your back.

“Tell me,” he teases, slipping one finger in, the metal of his ring pressing up against your clit, “Tell me you’ve had it like this before.”

A slow roll of his hips against your ass, letting the weight of his cock pressed hot and tight between his body and yours. You find yourself inching higher, micro-movements attuned to his, staring but unseeing at his face, buzzing with the raw need to be clenching around more than one finger.

“Not like this, not off Glenfiddich, in Jamaica Plain…”

And without thinking, because there isn’t much to think about, you hiss, “Oh, fuck you!”

Ransom chuckles into your ear because your voice breaks just a tad and he’s going to win this fight. Claws and teeth out sharper than knives, he bites down on your shoulder and slips in another finger. The distinct sensations—soft, slippery, strokes and the sting of his teeth—are scrambling your brain.

He grips himself tight, pushes in with uncharacteristic restraint, and you’re so desperate and aching for it all you can do is push back and pray the sound you might be making isn’t loud enough for everyone in the damn place to hear.

You stifle a grunt with his next languid stroke and Ransom raises an eyebrow, “What? You suddenly shy now?”

It might be just a restroom, but it’s one of the nicest places you’ve ever been inside. Carver’s cigar room’s private single occupancy nook and he’s usurped it to screw you senseless. As if reading your thoughts, he rolls his eyes and continues, glaring at your half-lidded reflection.

“Who gives a shit?” Then, another smirk, “If you’re gonna scream, get my name right.”

Your belly is quivering from the pressure, holding yourself together as best you can before he takes you to pieces. The grooves in his rings cut into your skin. His hand squeezes your neck, fingers crawling up your chin to shove inside your mouth.

Like everything else he’s ever wanted in his life, he’ll own this, too.

And then it’s only punishment. Ransom twists your hair around one fist, other forearm pressing like an anchor on your sternum, wrist shoved through the neckline, hand splayed open and clutching your throat and it goes nearly all the way around. The reflection of your panting mouth and bouncing breasts matching his every thrust is lewd and vile and so goddamn good.

“I bet you fuck on top, don’t you, scholarship?” He releases your throat to pinch your cheeks together, tipping your head derisively, making you nod yourself stupid—awful and humiliating but it unexpectedly thrills.

“Bet you’re too proud to ask.” He makes you nod again, “Bet you want someone to fuck you open just like this—all filthy and sloppy—“

And he doesn’t have to make you agree that time, you’re already limp in expectation and your reflection, damn her, she nods.

He’s still fully dressed, coat swaying to cocoon the both of you in what is probably a hundred thousand dollars. His watch, his rings, his fucking boxers. That stupid cable knit sweater.

A yelp leaks out with your orgasm- unexpected and high and quick, like a wounded animal as you tip your head back onto his shoulder. He doesn’t stop, even for a second. Ransom thrusts deeper, and on the cusp of your second undoing, he licks an errant bead of sweat down the back of your neck.

“You got one more. Yeah, that’s right— one more— God, your pussy loves it. Squeezing me fucking good.” He’s sick. He’s sick and Jesus Christ, aren’t you, too? “Yeah. Push back on my cock. Fuck yourself with it…”

He guides your fingers to your clit with his free hand and begins to rub in motions. Your eyes flutter when he breathes into your ear, “There you go, scholarship, you’ll never get dick this good again—so go ahead and be selfish. I wanna see you all fucked out, fucked stupid, coming all over my dick.”

With two fingers sluiced with your spit, Ransom crams them up next to his cock and you can’t believe how he did it so easily but maybe you can. Yes, filthy and sloppy and never like you’ve had before. Your hands grip the counter top so tightly the tips look white and bloodless and the strained coil inside snaps clean in two.

“Fuck! Oh fuck! God!”

You slump backwards, fingertips to toes shocked tingly numb, boneless and empty of all thought, but he holds you up with ease. Ransom shushes your gasps, paws your breasts and fluttering sternum, runs his hand over your face and throat. The pinch of his fingers returns to your cheeks and he drags his other hand from inside your pussy up into to your mouth. Slick and dripping, a little rubbery from the condom, but otherwise just like yourself.

“Well, look at that. Aren’t you just…”

He pauses to view your blissful face, covered in a sheen layer of sweat, head resting on his shoulder, slanted just enough so that the tip of your nose brushes his jaw. A quick laugh, strangely knowing and a bit sweet or maybe you’re imagining it in your delirium, before he turns cold again.

“Make good on your slogan. Get on your fucking knees.”

His hand looks ridiculous, big and strong and wrapped around the best part of him, completely filthy with you smeared over his fist and you slide to your knees, forehead resting briefly on his knee. His pants have fallen around his ankles, boxers still midway, and you’re so exhausted you can hardly do much more than give him a light kiss to his inner thigh—God knows why—before you peel the rubber off.

It lands into the toilet and you obediently stick out your tongue, still panting to catch your breath as Ransom aims toward your open throat. “There you go,” he groans, fisting himself, “That’s it. Don’t let a single drop go to waste.”

And you don’t.

“So,” your old mentor asks, familiar low drawl of his voice crackling with the tone of a lifelong smoker, “What do you think?”

A hum passes through from your end as you think about all the ways Ransom Drysdale Thrombey pulled you apart and in all the ways you’ll probably think about for at least a couple of months.

“He’s exactly who you think he is.” You rock back and forth on your feet near the curb, “Disrespectful…” Scholarship, Ransom’s voice sneers, “Selfish…” Who gives a shit? “Manipulative.”

Well look at that… aren’t you just… And the glimmer of those big blue eyes half-crazed with lust and control, drinking in your reflection in the mirror, makes you clench up right there in the parking lot.

“You think he’s a killer?” Blanc asks quietly.

“I don’t know,” You reply, “Depends. He takes what he wants when he wants it… Could care less if he burns the world down with him. You divine the rest.”

Benoit Blanc’s frustrated sigh is all the response you expect him to give. This case with the Thrombeys really has gotten him all twisted up. He wouldn’t have called you for a favor if it didn’t. Of course, when he asked you to check Ransom Drysdale Thrombey out, he’ll be at Carver’s tomorrow around ten, he probably had other scenarios in mind…

“Well,” he mumbles, “Thanks again. These people sure are hell to be around. Give the new Prentisses my best, won’t you?”

You say your goodbyes and tuck your phone back into your pocket, shifting with a wince when the soreness between your legs throbs again. With a sigh into the dark autumn night, you shove your hands inside the center pouch of your hoodie, keeping your head low but still wary enough to find your Uber.

Ransom left you in the restroom about ten minutes ago, sitting on your haunches, still trying to remember how your lungs work. Right before the door shut, he had turned around and gave you one last smirk, pointing right at your top with glee. “How’d I taste, baby?”

Blanc needs to be careful, not that he isn’t— because he always is, as nutty as his brain works, he is. But Ransom is the only Thrombey you’ve met and if there are ten more of them… Blanc would do good to watch his ass and maybe get some extra help.

A jangle disrupts the quiet when you begin to play with what you’ve taken. Jagged metal edges. Heavy iconic insignia laying benignly in your palm before you tug it out.

Idiot. Good dick or not, an idiot is an idiot is an idiot— especially his kind. Didn’t even notice you slipped these right out of his coat pocket. You swing the ring around your flexed pointer in swift, angry circles, keys clanging together before your hand shuts it up.

With a hard wind of your arm back, you fling the set long into the night, satisfied when it lands behind a building some distance away.

Ransom Drysdale, you think, enthusiastic smile growing on your face as your ride pulls around the corner, have fun looking for those tonight.

Dick!

Ransom tags: @mermaidxatxheart @dumbubblegum @sapphirescrolls @gothambrat @southerncross47 @bubblegumpeeeach @fiercephantasmagoria @saliarheva @amberakawolfie

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#knives out #ransom thrombey #ransom drysdale #ransom x reader #smut #fanfiction #reader insert #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale thrombey #ransom x you #eat the rich heli0s

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