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drak3n · 3 months

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THE ONE-NIGHT STAND

ꨄ. SYNOPSIS: why did this hookup affect you in a way you couldn’t stop thinking about him months later?

ꨄ. CONTENT WARNINGS: smut, unprotected sex, creampie, slight hair-pulling, two adults being terrible at handling feelings, slow burn, alcohol

bold italic quotes = letter excerpts

PROLOGUE. | SERIES MASTERLIST.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“you’re probably wondering why i wrote a letter to you. what we had wasn’t that deep, after all.”

“lady in black over there paid for your next drink.”

if there was one word to describe hiromi, it had to be… oblivious. terribly so. it wasn’t like he ever had much time for dating and exploring things, having been occupied with college for many years and climbing his way up the ladder until he could finally call himself a lawyer.

now that he was one, he despised his job. it brought him nothing but trouble and negative thoughts. who the hell had fooled him into thinking it would be a cool job?

perhaps his parents.

the man with spiky, dark hair accepted the whiskey and coke mixture the bartender had slid over on the counter, and he didn’t turn around to check who had really paid for his damn drink until he took a sip first. as a grown ass man, he wasn’t going to take a 180 turn at the speed of light and make a fool of himself.

and oh boy, when he did turn around to check for said lady in black, he nearly took a double take. except for, his hooded gaze stayed plastered on you. unable to drag his dark eyes away from you.

leaned against the wall on the other side of the bar, you were a sight. out of all the laughing and blabbering people dressed in all kinds of odd colors that would usually be more striking to the eye, it was your — he didn’t want to call it normal — choice of clothing that struck him.

short, skintight dress that left little to one’s imagination. yet, his thoughts were running with all kinds of things, gears shifting and turning faster than they ever did before.

it was only his second drink of the night, it wasn’t the alcohol speaking. and it wasn’t also the fatigue speaking. it was him, unfiltered and raw.

you gave him a coy smile and raised your half-empty glass, not even listening to what your friends had to say, wanting nothing but to talk to that man you had bought a drink for.

while higuruma might have started sweating under his suit — he was lucky he had left his jacket at home, forcing him to roll the sleeves of his white shirt up — he didn’t show it. his expression stayed indifferent, face as stoic as ever as he stayed right where he was.

he hadn’t smiled back, only having opted to raise his glass while his unoccupied hand was shoved into the pocket of his slacks. he probably had no idea how mouth-watering that sight was to you. you nearly felt your thighs clenching together out of instinct.

your friends started picking up on where your glance and attention had been wandering to, which followed by them trying to force you to strike up a conversation with him. you didn’t see any reason for it, taking his lack of action after your first step as a sign of disinterest.

however, when you approached the bar by yourself to order one more drink for yourself, the bartender told you it had already been paid for.

“who?” you questioned, which made the woman behind the bar shoot you a grin. “handsome guy in a suit,” was her curt response before she walked off to tend to other drunkards.

you weren’t very slick, so the first thing you did was whip your head to where he had been standing the entire time.

he was already looking at you.

you couldn’t help but start sweating even more than before when he started to approach you. his facial expression didn’t look awfully friendly, so you highly doubted he was going to talk to you.

but he did.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“there are some things i forgot in the heat of the moment, but one of the things i can still remember very clearly — apart from the night we both shared together — was how respectful you were.”

neither of you two realized how much time had passed. your friends were forgotten, feeling like leaving you to hiromi wouldn’t be a bad idea as you had been in need of good male company for quite a long time.

alas, a good fuck.

you didn’t drink much more alcohol after that, equally agreeing that the atmosphere was too good to ruin it with unserious giggling and staggering. alcohol had to be one of the main causes of people fucking up things.

it was amazing how higuruma made you feel attached to the conversation despite his voiced displeasure for his job and the entire sector he worked at. what he worked as, he didn’t make clear. which made the entire conversation even more interesting.

it had been his dream to practice justice, he’d told you, but he quickly found out that it wasn’t possible during times like these. it actually saddened you to hear that.

“i’m sure you’re still incredible at your job,” you smiled at him, eyes never leaving his. there was something about him that made you feel stupidly attracted to him.

you felt like a horny teenager glancing at his features, imagining how good you’d feel under him—

a surprised sound was drawn from your lips as an arm was suddenly draped around your waist, pulling you closer to the tall lawyer. one glance to your right told you that someone had approached the bar and stepped too close to you.

the protective aura he exuded sent a tingle straight to your south. and the alcohol you had consumed the entire night helped you voice it.

you found yourself looking at hiromi whose thick eyebrows went up at the words that had spilled from your lips. “i’m afraid i missed what you just said,” he muttered, hand leaving your body when the danger was gone. you didn’t miss the way he put the previous distance between your bodies again.

now that was a man worthy to be between your legs.

so instead of chickening out, you repeated what he allegedly hadn’t heard.

“i said, i want you to fuck me.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“i never had a man treat me so respectfully. i never thought it was a thing for a man to be nice. sounds stupid, right?”

it didn’t take long for both of you to arrive at your place that wasn’t too far away, thankfully so, because you could barely contain yourself from pouncing on the poor man.

he had a lot more self-control than you had, but the moment you unlocked the door to your apartment, he urged you inside gently to push you against the nearest wall.

“are you sure about this?” staring deeply into your eyes as he questioned your needs, higuruma could tell you weren’t drunk. so was he. you were both totally logical about this.

already kicking off your heels, you pulled him down to your height by his tie. “stop asking,” you panted, licking your lips as your heartbeat quickened with your overwhelming desire.

it was him who closed the gap between you two, soft lips molding together in a heated kiss as your hands wandered to his face, finding his defined cheekbones and the slightest stubble on his pointed chin.

hiromi’s large palms firmly squeezed your hips, staying respectfully distant from your other regions. you whined into the kiss at how needy his touches made you.

“hiromi… take off my dress,” you broke the kiss as you both gasped for air, and a deep hum left his lips when you turned around, exposing the zipper of the dress below your nape.

a shuddered breath was drawn from your mouth when his warm fingertips ghosted over the bare skin on your neck to brush your hair aside, making you choke in surprise when he tugged at it, forcing your neck to strain.

“i couldn’t quite hear you, love.” his moist lips ghosted over the shell of your ear and you bit your lower lip. “what do you say when you want someone to do something for you?”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“the only thing i could think of was how good of a partner you’d be to me. even if it was the worst timing to be thinking about that, considering i was… under you.”

it didn’t matter at this point if you had five or a hundred bodies before hiromi. because one thing was for certain.

he would remain the best fuck of your life till the end of your days.

it wasn’t just the sheer size and girth that was stretching you so painfully deliciously, but also the skill and perfection he put into every and each of his thrusts.

for a man as lethargic as him, he made sure to put all of his energy into fucking you. he didn’t ask you to move a muscle, and all you did was take the pounding he granted you with your face smushed into your pillow and your ass up.

you were lucky your moans were muffled by the fabric of your pillow, because with how good he was hitting all of the spots inside of you, you were sobbing into it. it would have been embarrassing, considering all the sounds he produced was when his hips met your ass, the squelching of when his thick cock entered and left your sopping pussy, and the grunts that left his lips.

hiromi was a sexy man. you were glad you weren’t facing him, because you were sure you’d have fallen in love with him.

“inside, please—”

you choked back a sob when higuruma slowed down, stilling his movements and catching his breath as he forced your back against his lean, muscled torso. “you want me to cum inside?” you nodded pathetically as you squirmed, moving your hips in despair to grant yourself the satisfaction you had gotten used to.

hiromi’s eyes met yours when he pressed your head against his broad shoulder with the help of a hand against your throat for leverage, and you were sure it wasn’t just your pussy throbbing at that.

you felt pathetic for cumming from only a single glance without him even moving. but at least it made him empty himself inside of you.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“i wasn’t thinking about it too much, but i thought that when i’d wake up, you would still be there. even if it was just a one-night-stand.”

it was inevitable for you to pass out once you two were done. the rays of sunlight that shone through your curtains were what woke you up as you cracked your eye open to get to your senses.

you were bare beneath the covers, but you were cleaned up. the thought of hiromi haven taken care of you made your insides tingle, and your eyes flew to the other side of the bed.

except, he was not there anymore. it was as if he’d never been there. he didn’t leave a single trace. and to deepen your disappointment, he hadn’t left his number or anything else for you to contact him.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“you have no idea how many times i visited that bar afterwards in hopes of meeting you again.”

one glance at the bartender already told her what you had came for again. the nth time in months. at this point, she could only sigh and shake her head in pity.

“okay. this is the last time i’ve asked. promise,” you grunted. she just quirked a brow while handing you a shot. you looked like you needed it.

“you said that weeks ago.”

she was right. why the hell couldn’t you just let go?

you knew it wasn’t the sex. sure, it was mind-blowing… way more than just that. it was the desire to build a deeper connection with him. hooking up with that man wasn’t a mistake by any means…. but maybe that’s what made him disappear from the surface of the earth.

perhaps he thought you were too easy.

“hey, have you heard of this show?” the bartender was standing in front of you again, and you shook your head, unenthusiastic about what she was going to tell you. “apparently, it even brings people together who have been seperated for ages. maybe you could give it a try.”

now this piqued your interest. the width of your eyes was ridiculous, like one of a lovesick fool, which in a sense, you were.

“what’s the name of the show?”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“i just wanted to know if what we had was just a night of lust, or if it could have been more. that’s all i wanted.”

after sending the letter to said address of TO ALL THE MEN YOU’VE LOVED BEFORE, you were too anxious to approach your tv or any type of social media. too scared of getting an answer you weren’t going to like.

the evening of the airing where your letter was featured came and went by, but nothing happened. it wasn’t until the next few days that you realized: although you didn’t like this answer — which was none — it was the reality. it wasn’t what you wanted, but what you needed nonetheless.

now, you were ready to move on.

or, not so much. you were slumped on the barstool, staring into your drink as the jazz music playing in the background added even more to your sentimental state hours later. tonight was doomed to be terrible when you found out that the bartender was on holidays for a week, which meant you’d be on your own with your stupid thoughts.

not quite paying any attention to the silhouette sitting down on the stool next to you, your nose took a whiff of a familiar cologne. it wasn’t every day you smelled that unique men’s perfume, but perhaps it was just a coincidence—

“i got your letter.”

glancing to your right, you sighted hiromi there in all of his glory. seeing him didn’t make you choke on your spit and splutter dramatically like it happened in movies. you were frozen in your spot.

“i didn’t watch the airing. i don’t like watching shows like that.”

you stirred the half-melted glass cubes in your drink, making them clink against each other as you remained silent. if this wasn’t the road to rejection…

“what were you hoping for by sending that letter? what exactly was your intention?”

setting your glass down on the counter, you finally faced the man fully, both of your expressions deadpan. was he being serious?

“are you a lawyer or something like that?”

he paused, looking genuinely impressed at your guess as his thick brows quirked up, before a rough and husky chuckle left his lips. “what gave it away?”

“seemed like you were interviewing your client before court or something,” you laughed, “but what were you hoping for coming here today? you knew i would be here, considering you read the letter.”

hiromi leaned forward as his dark hues took in your features. he looked just as handsome as you remembered, although it had been no longer than a few months. it sure felt like forever, though.

a lopsided smile crept onto his lips as he stood up, towering over your frame. he raised a large hand to hold it out to you, which made you look at it dumbly.

“i was wondering if i could get to know said client a little better,” he murmured. a stupid grin stretched on your painted lips. “in a more formal setting, perhaps. how about dinner?”

“i’d love that, counsellor.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

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jaykaysthicthighs · 10 months

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Suck Them | JJK

excerpt | it was just supposed to be the usual great sex, but they looked so inviting

genre | smut (mdni), fluff

pairings | jeon jungkook x fem!reader

warnings | reader being a dom (just slightly), jk begs, p in v, kind of dirty talk, hand job, bit of rough sex, nipple sucking, strong language, i think that's all

wc | 4k+

notes | this is my first time writing smut or anything in general. so i'm hoping that even though i'm inexperienced you guys will still love and enjoy this

Jungkook was ramming you from behind - doggy style. Each thrust hits that golden spot for you. Jungkook never slowed down his pace; fucking you like it was going to be the last time.

You were in this position for a while now, your body was getting tired. You breathlessly spoke, "Baby, please. I'm getting numb. Let me lay down." Jungkook saw the way your legs were trembling, and it was not by pleasure. He wanted to be mean and say that you can handle it, but he was in a giving mood.

He pulled out, watching the way your pussy was clenching at the loss of his dick; Jungkook smirked. He flipped your body, so you were facing him. Your face was relieved, and you were happy that your aching limbs gets to rest. But without a second thought, Jungkook shoved his thick cock into you. Your head leaned back at the sudden occurrence. Your back arched, breast touching his chest. After a few seconds your body fell down, Jungkook's as well; his body slumping on top of yours. Your guy's body is connected in a missionary position.

He looked deeply into your eyes, loving the glow swirling around your irises. With his dick still inside you, he gave you a quick kiss; hands holding both sides of your face. "Is this better for you, baby?" You smiled warmly at him, thankful for the sweet boyfriend you have. You wrapped your arms around his neck and opened your legs wider. You tilted your head up; lips meeting his pierced ear, and you whispered, "Now fuck me, Jungkook."

When those words had spilled out of your mouth, Jungkook, in an instant, fucked you like a dog in heat. The sound of his skin clapping onto your plump ass and thigh echoed throughout the room. Your desirable moans turned his brain to mush. Jungkook was sent into a frenzy.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" The pleasure your lover was giving you was so euphoric. Feeling his hard length going in and out of you. His balls slapping your back hole, weirdly giving you extra pleasure. Your wetness as a natural lube. The sweat causes a stickiness to your guy's skin. His tip hitting your g-spot. You loved all of it. You felt like you were in another world every time you two fucked.

Jungkook leaned his head back, eyes closed, mouth slightly agape, reeling in the feeling of you. He feels the way your nails dig and scratch his back. He feels the way you move your pussy up and down like you want more than what he's already giving you. The way you clench around his every time he hits your sweet spot. He hears the sinful sounds leaving your mouth. The slickness you provide for him. Your warm wet walls caging his raging dick. Jungkook truly felt like you were his utopia.

You looked at Jungkook. His face contorted with absolute sex. You watch the way his mouth groans out vulgar words. His eyes screwed shut, only focusing on the pleasure he's giving you and himself. You looked down at his abdomen, seeing the way his abs flexed at every slap. Jungkook always looked handsome to you, but when he's in this state, he's the sexiest fucker on this planet.

You untied your arms from his body and moved them down to his chest. You never really focused on your lovers' nipples, but when your hands grazed them, you saw the way Jungkook slightly shivered.

It gave you a thought. You pushed your hands on his abs, indicating for him to stop, and sat up. Jungkook looked at you with confusion; hands resting on your knees. He cocked his head to the side, "What's wrong, babe? Not feeling well?" You didn't spare him a glance; your eyes only focusing on his hard nipples. "No, nothing's wrong. I was just wondering if I can suck on them?" You pointed at his chest.

Jungkook's head faintly jerked back. This was new. It was always him sucking on your nipples, not the other way around. He stared at you, seeing if you were serious about this. Jungkook showcased a small downward smile. He saw your eyes clouded with lust staring at his nipples.

You were about to say something, but Jungkook crashed his body on yours; swiftly placed your mouth on his. You tried pushing him off, wanting an answer, but he only held you closer; demanding that you shut up and kiss him back.

You can never really say no to Jungkook, so you closed your eyes and fell prey to his touch. Without really realizing you climbed on his lap and somewhere in the middle you sunk yourself into his slick dick. You guys were fucking, but this time more slow-paced. You tangled yourself with him. Your arms around his shoulder, his around your torso; his hands resting on your ass. Legs wrapped around his body - crisscross style.

"Shit, baby, you feel so good." You moaned at his words. "Wanna be inside you forever. Inside this sweet, beautiful pussy of yours." You tucked your face in the crook of his neck; you were blushing. Jungkook chuckled at your actions, "Adorable."

You love fucking slow, but you wanted to be fucked hard. "Jungkook, please. I want it harder." you whimpered. Your wish is his command; fuck you hard, he shall. Your body started bouncing roughly on his dick. You were a mess; head leaned back, hair sticking to your forehead because of the sweat, arms barely holding on, toes curled, ass started feeling numb from the constant slapping, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Jungkook loved this sight of you. He loved the reason behind your messy exterior. He saw your neck blank; thought of an idea that involves painting you. He attached his lips to your damp neck and started coloring you. It was a little hard for him, fucking you hard and sucking on your neck at the same time, but he didn’t care if it meant that you were on cloud 9. He littered your neck with blue and purple hues, each a different size.

You couldn’t handle all the things Jungkook was doing to you. It was too much; your body felt pleasure in many areas. You were close, and Jungkook noticed. Your pussy holding him hard. Jungkook sucked some air in through his teeth; he felt like you were going to cut off his dick. He wanted you to reach your high, even though you were holding him, hostage, he fucked you hard. And to add more to your pleasure, he brought his thumb down to your cilt and did figure 8’s around them.

You felt like you were being attacked. It was so much to bare, you reached your climax and held onto Jungkook for dear life. Jungkook analyzed the way your body shook as you came. The way you held him so tight he felt like he was turning purple. Your pussy clenching and unclenching around his dick. Your shaky moans echo in his brain. He knows that you’re all fucked out.

Once your high died, you realize that Jungkook hadn’t cum with you. You pulled away immediately and stammered, “W-why? Why… Why didn’t you cum with me? Did you not feel good?” You felt bad that you were the only one who came; your eyes getting teary.

Jungkook saw the distress painting your face. He gently held your face between his hands. “No, baby. I felt so good. You were such a good girl for me.” Jungkook let go of you and sprawled his legs on the messed up sheets of your bed, and leaned back. One hand slightly behind holding his weight and the other traveling up his chest. “I just thought I should wait to cum. I wanted to grant your wish on sucking these,” Jungkook rubbed his hard nipples, “I want you to pleasure me, baby.”

Your breathing was heavy; you were nervous. “I don’t know what to do.” Jungkook grabbed your arm, so there were only inches between you two. “Just think about how I suck yours and copy.”

“Easier said than done. Jungkook your mouth is skillful.”

“So is yours. The way your mouth does wonders to my cock. Very skillful in my book.”

You wanted to suck his nipples badly, but you didn’t really think about how you’ll do it. Jungkook saw the hesitation you were displaying. He was growing a bit restless. “Baby, hurry before my dick goes limp.”

You stared up at your boyfriend, and he barked, “Suck them, ____.” You dived your head to his chest and did open-mouthed kisses on them. Jungkook took a sharp breath in, "Shit!" He brought one of his hands to your nape, gently massaging the area as you sucked him. The other wrapped around his pulsating cock, pumping it at a slow pace.

Your eyes were closed, focusing on the pleasure you were giving your boyfriend. When you swirled your tongue around his perky bud, you heard the way Jungkook let out a low groan. You opened your eyes to take a peek, and what you saw made you wet.

Jungkook had his head leaned back, the only view in sight was his Adam's apple. You saw the way his beads of sweat rolled down at every groan. You saw the way his throat danced at every gulp taken. The way his throat turns red at every passing second. You've never seen this sight of him; it was a huge turn-on.

You wanted to hear - see more of him in this state. You noticed that his other friend was getting neglected, so brought your hand up, and took him between your two fingers; pinching him hard.

Jungkook whipped his head down and yelped at the sudden act. You took his breath by surprise. He stared at you speechless; he hissed, "What the hell was that?" You halted your deed, anxious that what you did you a bad mistake. You looked at Jungkook and murmured, "Did I hurt you? 'm sorry, babe. I won't do it again."

Jungkook saw the way you were on edge. He didn't mean to sound rude. It's just the action really took him by surprise, and Jungkook was slightly embarrassed by how it kind of felt nice. His face flushed by the remembering feeling; he turned his head right, scratching his neck. Jungkook gulped, "No... You didn't hurt me." Your eyes bugged out a little bit. You watched Jungkook's face grow red by the minute. You smiled, he looks so cute to you.

You placed your hands on his thighs. "Okay? Did I do something wrong then?" Jungkook shook his head no. You were confused, "Okay, then what happened?" Jungkook was too embarrassed to voice out the reason. There was a silence roaming the room. You tried to get a better look at his face. "You have to tell me something, Jungkook."

Jungkook turned his head to you and meekly confessed, "I liked it." Your smile grew wide; you exclaimed, "That's all?" You started giggling at the situation. Jungkook got shy and hid his face in his hands. "Don't laugh."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, baby." You reached out and pulled his hands away from his face. You got close to your boyfriend's face; your guy's lips brushing against each other. "So, this feels good?" Your hands went back to its previous destination and tugged his hard bud. Jungkook bit his lip hard, containing his moans, almost drawing blood. He gave you a small nod to your question.

Your free hand dragged his bottom lip down. "Don't be quiet for me." Right then and there, Jungkook's head fell back, and he let out one of the loudest moans you heard escape him. In response, you moved your head down and did kitten licks to his other pink bud.

Jungkook felt so intoxicated by this new feeling. He needed more. He bent his head down and pleaded to you, "Please, don't lick. I want you to suck me like you did earlier. Suck me hard." You smirked against his chest. But before doing so, you grabbed one of his hands and placed it on his leaking cock. You smiled at him with excitement, "Just to add more love."

Jungkook loves this side of you. He loves the way you look at him with much domination. He loves the way you touch him with so much eagerness. He loves the way you pleasure him like you were the top in this relationship. He loves everything in this moment.

Jungkook grinned at you and pumped his cock with excitement. He'll do whatever you want him to. You went back and gave him the hard sucking he wished for. Jungkook moaned like a bitch; he would've thought it was embarrassing, but right now, he doesn't care. Jungkook was moaning like there was no tomorrow, so you thought you should do the same thing. You moaned against his nipple, causing the vibration to shoot through him. He shuddered at the feeling.

The hand job he was giving himself, the moaning and sucking on one nipple, and the tugging on the other were making him see stars. He now knows why girls love their tits sucked so much. You were the cause of his euphoria.

Jungkook's body started twitching, signifying that he was close. He cried out, "Please, baby. More. More. I'm close." And just as you were asked, you fastened the speed you were going and gave your lover more. "Ahh..... Fuck! ____, I'm right there!"

Jungkook let go of his cock so he could grip your shoulders. You felt his fingers drilling holes through your skin. He was cumming hard and fast. A popping sound came the moment you detached your mouth from his nipple. You watched the way Jungkook's body quivered when his high was subsiding; body tense. His moans were shaky; beads of sweat falling to the ruined sheets. You looked down to see the warm, white liquid covering your thigh, some even on your bare torso.

Once everything was calm, you lifted up your boyfriend's head and kissed him. You guys kissed so hungrily, teeth clashing, tongues fighting for dominance, moans being swallowed by each other, but in the end, he still was the one to top.

Jungkook pulled away breathlessly, not just by the kissing, but by way you sucked him so good. He stared into your eyes and praised, "You did so well, baby. You made me feel like I was on cloud 9. God, why didn't we do this sooner?" You both chuckled at the last bit. You gave him a quick kiss and proclaimed, "It doesn't matter. We have all the time in the world. I'll gladly suck - not only your delicious cock, but that divine set of twins you got."

Jungkook leaned his head back at your words. "Fuck, you're getting me hard. Don't talk like that." He got up and grinned when an idea popped up in his head. "Actually, let's take this in the bathroom. Start our round two while washing up."

You giggled at the idea. And just as you were about to get up, you said, "I love you, Jungkook." Jungkook picked you up bridal style and kissed your forehead, "Not as much as I love you, ____. End of discussion. And if you still want to argue about who loves who more, let's do it in the bathroom."

You bellied out a laugh, making Jungkook all tingly inside. "Okay, fine. But this time you have to suck mine."

"Your wish is my command, my queen."

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wumblr · 7 months

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the way house of leaves has been revived for a cult following is so funny. it's completely backwards! it was a music industry book. the singer poe, who made waves with her debut for having a few tracks produced by j dilla and then if i remember correctly doing a 500+ show tour, essentially tanked her career to promote the book (written by her brother)

not like on purpose but it was supposed to be a paired project and there was a remix with a book excerpt read by mark (the kyrie bmw sex scene) and like, i don't know, a tie-in website -- but then her label got sold or merged or acquired and the project was eventually cancelled after languishing in limbo for a few years. there's also an aspect of this where like, a texas oil executive posed as a friend of her late father (possibly true) in order to manipulate legal proceedings (?) to ultimately own her writing and recording copyrights post-acquisition (dubious allegation, which also relies on her having signed away both types of copyright to her label in the first place, arguably a larger problem spanning the whole industry, even today, still coming up in legal proceedings from kesha and taylor swift and so on)

anyway the album (haunted) and the book were both inspired by the same event (death of their father, tad danielewsky -- as an aside, a professor of theater at brigham young university). the album features samples from a box of cassette tape recordings of his voice. and also some fake samples from a couple of guys pretending to be tad danielewski with an obviously ridiculous accent and a couple of kids pretending to be her as a kid. and it takes place inside the house. the growl is there and everything i swear

it really was one of the top tier 90s concept albums (it was released in 2000 actually) but it is usually FAR too much to handle for casual listening and a lot of it comes across difficult for being so sincere and so unfocused (it is a love letter to her dead father where one of the songs is a list of places she's gotten fucked, because, uh, this is a conversation she wanted to have with him. shrug). and yet it's hard not to take it as it is because it's so consistently well produced

so i know nobody's computer comes with a cd player anymore but to read the book without listening to the paired album implicitly packed in the back of the book jacket is kind of like missing the whole point. there's a whole second act of rashomon you guys are missing. and a third act hello the etsy teleplays. ANYWAY the point i wanted to make is that there are a couple of things about the album sticking to the roof of my mouth as being somehow prescient. there's a distorted "why (are you) so serious" sample that would have come across VERY differently post-joker, but there's also "tell me something dangerous and true," a far more interesting variation on the theme currently circulating. and i'm speaking to an empty room here because it's only the celibate 60% of this website who is reading the book because it allows them a patina of literary validity and several nested unreliable narrators to distance themselves from the sex scenes, but haunted is very authentically, directly and exclusively written in first person and to be honest it fucks too hard for you guys. i'm sorry

#house of leaves

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suzukiblu · 5 months

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excerpt from the one where Tim Drake goes to an alternate reality and decides to get his other self laid via the local Kon's bisexual awakening:

"Hey, remember when you saved my life earlier?" Tim asks.

"Yeah, kinda," Kon replies in amusement. "Seeing as it was about two point five seconds after you rigged the evil alien robot army to self-destruct and helped save our entire literal reality's life, so I was definitely paying attention."

"Flatterer," Tim says with a smirk even as he waves him off. The self-destruct function wasn't even that hard to hack, comparatively. That time he'd downloaded Lex Luthor's active IP files from his personal office while the asshole had been on his damn computer–now that'd been tricky. Interdimensional alien invaders barely compare. And the Brainiac incident still gives him stress migraines when he thinks about it for too long.

Metropolis sucks and Tim frankly has no idea how his own Kon can stand the place.

But like, getting off-topic here.

"Well, I was gonna say you should let me pay you back for that," he continues. "But since you bring it up I'll also accept a show of gratitude on behalf of your reality, whichever gets you off harder.”

Kon laughs, because he is apparently adorable enough to have assumed that was a joke. Precious little moron, Tim thinks fondly.

"You know, you're a lot less uptight than our version of you is," Kon says, grinning down at Tim before flashing Tim's other self a smirk. "No offense, Rob. Dude's clearly just doing more yoga than you or something. Maybe drinking more tea? Taking the occasional bubble bath?"

"Silly me, if only I'd invested in more bath bombs in my life," Tim's other self says dryly.

"It's probably my sex life, actually," Tim himself puts in with an easy shrug. Turns out when you stop pretending you don't have a ridiculously high libido and actually just indulge the thing, a lot of life's little annoyances become a lot easier to handle. Go figure. "Plus my boyfriend Bernard is really great, just his entire existence does wonders for my mood in general and he also makes me eat real food on occasion and monitors my caffeine intake much more reliably than I'm capable of doing on my own. The man is a living antidepressant and I don't even mean that in a fucked-up way, he's just that good."

"Boyfriend?" Kon blinks at him, then puts on another grin. It takes, Tim cannot help but notice, exactly two beats longer than his real grin would've. "Ohhhhh, okay, so the problem is just that you're not getting laid hard enough?"

"It is not," Tim's other self says dubiously, watching Kon just a little bit warily and obviously worried about his potential reaction to the word "boyfriend". Well, Tim never claimed to be emotionally intelligent about Kon, so no surprise his other self is also a dumbass there.

"It kinda is, actually," he tells his other self. "I was tracking my cortisol levels the last time I went on a solo away mission and let's just say they were . . . concerning? Like really concerning. Like by the time I got back I was kiiiiind of convinced I was going to need to go on anti-anxiety meds again. But then I jumped my Kon in the Titans Tower med bay instead and that pretty much solved the problem."

Kon . . . pauses, sort of. Tilts his head. Tim's other self looks a lot warier.

"'Jumped'," Kon repeats carefully. "Like . . . what, you dragged him to the gym to spar or something?"

"Like I blew his back out so hard that when he came his TTK fritzed out and disassembled my recovery bed," Tim clarifies helpfully. "It really helped with the cortisol levels issue."

Kon blinks. Tim's other self looks pained, but also desperately envious. Tim would also be desperately envious if their situations were reversed and so does not blame him for said envy in the slightest.

"I thought you said you had a boyfriend?" Kon says after a moment, sounding a little odd in a very telling way. Or at least very telling to Tim, anyway.

As is the way that he's not looking at Tim's other self at all anymore.

"Open relationship," Tim says. "Also Bernard thinks you're stupidly hot and really likes hearing about the kind of stuff you let me do to you. I've actually been debating inviting you over for his birthday so he can watch us live for once but I haven't asked you yet."

"What, so your Kon is the side chick?" Kon jokes, awkwardly putting on another just barely belated grin.

"More like my kept boy, functionally speaking, but he's having a 'weird about commitment' phase right now so I've just been making a lot of sugar baby jokes to soften him up," Tim replies with a shrug. It's only sort of been working, but it has been working, and he's willing to take his time on it. It's not fair to expect Kon to only be easy, after all. "Long-term goal is to marry Bernard and ideally get Kon to 'live-in boyfriend' status somewhere in there, but that would also require him not being weird about commitment and also figuring out how well he and Bernard get along in the same space, so we'll just have to see how that one goes."

"Uh," Kon says. "Why?"

"Because you are incredibly important to me and also look like a very horny Renaissance sculptor made you out of calacatta marble," Tim tells him matter-of-factly, gesturing meaningfully at him. "Frankly it's criminal that you ever put clothes on."

#timkon #tim drake #dc robin #kon el #conner kent #superboy #rinfic #wip: interdimensional whoring for timkon #long post #somehow I still haven't written any sex scenes for this fic #just a lot of Tim terrorizing his alternate self and flustering alternate Kon #'Tim'-orizing his alternate self?

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raz-writes-the-thing · 4 months

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Twelfth Doctor NSFW Alphabet

Twelfth Doctor x GN!Reader 18+ ONLY / requests are open

DW: @nyxiethesimp @quickslvxrr @midnight--raine @blueberry-sunshines @stevekempscocktails @go-bonkers-go-foolish @peytonpenguin37 @yeethaw13 @complimentary-breadbasket @thekirbishow @stilestotherescue @madspads @catlynharper@merrilark @jaziona92 (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Twelve doesn’t like to sit still for too long, even after sex. He does like to cuddle, and one of his favourite things is tracing your palm lines while his head rests on your shoulder, but he can only relax like that for about an hour at most before he’s itching to go do something- usually shower with you or tinker with some sort of alien tech.

He also likes to listen to music after sex- soft instrumental music. Sometime’s he’ll play with your fingers and read you an excerpt of a book he’s reading if he’s wanting to do something but also cuddle with you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favourite body part on himself are his ears. He loves having them kissed and stimulated, but he also just likes the way they look on him. Twelve’s favourite body part on his partner is usually their ankles. The man is obsessed with a pretty ankle.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Twelve goes absolutely feral when he sees his cum dripping off from your skin. Chest, chin, back, ass- wherever.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

It’s not for everyone (and not for Raz either) but I feel like Twelve would like- enjoy giving foot massages a little too much. Something about the view up your legs, the curve of your skin and the way you moan under his touch when he rubs a stubborn knot out of the sole of your foot. Just drives him wild. He just has a little bit of a thing for feet.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Twelve is not that experienced. He doesn’t fuck on a whim, he fucks for love and companionship- so he’s not had many one-night stands or anything like that, but he’s a fast learner and one of the things that he enjoys the most about a new relationship is finding out exactly how to make his partner melt for him.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Twelve’s favourite position is having you ride him. He loves to put his hands on your ass and watch you pleasure yourself on him. He finds the sight of you like that spectacularly erotic- particularly when he grips you tight and decides to fuck up into you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It depends. Twelve can be serious, but he can be goofy too. If he’s feeling self-conscious, he’s definitely going to be a little goofier in order to distract himself and his partner from his insecurities.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Twelve doesn’t really care for pubic maintenance hair-wise. He just lets the hair do what it wants, but he makes sure to keep it clean, of course.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Again, it depends on how insecure he’s feeling. If he’s feeling confident, he’s very suave and romantic, but if he’s feeling insecure, he can be a bit awkward, too. If he’s feeling dominant, though, he’s not very romantic.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Twelve only really masturbates when he’s really, really desperate. He doesn’t really have time to, otherwise. Always flitting about from one thing to the next.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Twelve has a daddy kink. He also as I mentioned before, has a mild thing for feet, and he really likes to choke his partners. That rush sends pleasure up his spine and makes his brain tingle.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Up against the wall is his favourite place to do it. Second to that is over the couch.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Twelve is turned on by music, sometimes. As in, bassy guitar riffs and lyrics to match. If you wear lipstick, a deep shade of red will also get him going, too.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Gun and knife play are big no-no’s and he’s not big on cnc, either.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Preference is to give. There’s nothing like being trapped between his lovers’ thighs.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Generally speaking, Twelve likes to be slower and more gentle, but he’s not opposed to a good hard fuck either if the mood strikes.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Twelve is a big fan of quickies. The amount of times he’s fucked you in a broom closet between lunch and the oncoming alien incursion has been innumerable.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Twelve is all about risk in the bedroom. He’s keen to try things, learn things, experience things. As long as they don’t put you in danger, he is game.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Twelve can go three to four rounds before he needs to take a break, but that doesn’t mean he’s not game to eat you out between them either, though.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Twelve is a big fan of toys. He makes them for you- manages to make sure they are attuned to you specifically and what gives you pleasure. He loves to watch you use a toy and work it inside yourself or on yourself that he’s made with his own hands.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Twelve is a huge tease. Both with touches, caresses but then with orgasms too. He’s not opposed to seeing how many times he can edge you before you break your last record.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Twelve isn’t super loud, but he’s not quiet either. He moans a lot and tends to suck in his breath, too when something feels particularly good.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

If you lick, nibble or suck on his ear lobe, he will be complete putty in your hands. Just brushing over the shell or whispering in his ear will do the trick too, to be honest.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

For an older body, he’s surprisingly toned. Not a six-pack or anything, but he’s got the beginnings of some muscle firmness under the soft belly. In terms of his dick, though, he’s rather long and pale, and there is a vein that runs along the left-hand side that pulses blue.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Twelve’s sex drive is a bit sporadic. He will go through a period of time where he’s not in the mood, and then it will all suddenly hit at once and all he will want to do for the next two weeks is fuck your brains out.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards

Barely ever. Twelve doesn’t really sleep a lot, and he doesn’t fall asleep after sex very often at all.

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irb-pascalito-99 · 2 months

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Let Me Paint You

Pairing: Joel x f!reader

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: After posing for a painting Joel decides he needs to do some painting of his own.

Warnings: oral f!receiving and m!receiving, edging, unprotected p in v sex, riding, sex on a canvas

A/N: This is an excerpt from chapter thirteen of my fic Always an Angel, Never a God. To read more please visit a03.

After dinner we wash the dishes and settle in the living room to pick a movie for the night. Joel is thumbing through our collection of DvDs when a knock sounds on the front door. Both of us freeze, unsure of who could be stopping by right now.

We exchange a look as the visitor knocks again. I go to the door while Joel makes his way up the stairs. I wait until I hear a door close upstairs before I open the one in front of me.

On the front step Maria stands with her hands in her pockets. The evening sun casts an orange glow upon her as it starts to sink in the sky.

“So you are alive,” Maria jests, a smirk spreading across her face. “I’ve been texting you all day. I was trying to see if you wanted to hang out since Ellie is off on that school trip, but I got worried when I didn’t hear anything back. Why haven’t you responded?”

My chest tightens. I haven’t even looked at my phone since I got home last night, abandoning it with my purse and keys in the doorway the second I got home. I try to think of an excuse as to why I couldn’t respond while Maria peers into the house behind me.

“I’ve just been really busy with things today,” I say, fiddling with my fingers. I pull the door closer to me so she can’t see inside. “I’ve been cleaning and painting. Just enjoying the alone time, totally spaced my phone I guess.”

Maria’s eyebrows scrunch together. She tries to look behind me again and then looks back at my face as though she’s trying to decipher whether or not I’m lying.

“So there’s nobody else here?” Maria asks. I try to keep my reaction small so she can’t catch on to anything. “Because normally your car is in the garage but it’s in the driveway now, and you’re acting kind of strange…”

I see my car in the driveway behind her. We had moved it out there to make room fit the truck in the garage. I put a palm to my forehead and feign a reaction as if I’m just now remembering it’s out there.

“I must have forgot to move it back. I was cleaning the garage earlier and had to move it out there.” I can tell Maria doesn’t buy the lie.

I don’t know why I’m trying so hard. Out of anyone Maria is probably the one person I can tell about us, but there’s something I like about hiding it. It’s like in keeping this secret, I keep a piece of Joel for just myself. Keeping it a secret may have started as a way of protecting Ellie, but it feels as though I’m protecting Joel and I as well.

From my experience, love is hardly ever simple or kind. Love is heartbreak, and the outside world can only break what we have. I like our secret, and even though it’s just Maria on my doorstep I will do whatever I can to keep our small piece of the world separate.

“Well, I’m sorry you drove all the way out here but I’m kind of in the groove right now with this painting,” I say.

Maria’s eyes flick up to the stairs. She doesn’t ask any other questions though. She nods, says her goodbyes, and drives away. When her car disappears I close the door again. Joel is silent upstairs.

I go to my bedroom first, expecting him to be laying on my bed or standing by the window, but he isn’t there. I check the bathroom as well. When I find no trace of him I make my way to the art studio.

I find him standing there, observing some artwork stashed away in the closet. His fingers gently brush against the top of the canvases as he moves from one to the other. I tread lightly across the room and brush my hands softly against his back. He jumps at the touch, quickly putting the paintings back in their place.

“You’re being nosy,” I say playfully as I wrap my arms around his chest. He stiffens under my touch, clearly feeling guilty for being caught snooping through my stuff.

“Sorry, saw Maria through the window and then the closet door was open so I was just curious. Figured you’d be talkin’ for a bit.” I peek my head around his shoulder to see what he’s looking at.

The first painting in the stack is a woman in a rowboat with a faint lantern glowing in the distance. I forgot this is where I chose to store my mother’s work. I still have a hard time looking at it.

“Did you do these?” Joel asks. I shake my head.

“Those were my mom’s actually.” I bury my face in Joel’s back, trying to seem as unbothered as possible.

Joel hums in response and looks at the paintings again. I suppose this is Joel’s first interaction with who my mother truly was. He knows she died in the accident. He knows she was an artist and Frank’s friend, but I never really talk about her life.

“She was really talented,” Joel says.

“Yeah, she was,” I say. I rest my chin on his shoulder, looking for a way to change the subject.

Joel ponders a thought for a moment as I admire the way the evening sun casts a beautiful glow on his tan skin through the open window.

“Can I paint you?” I ask. I feel Joel’s body jolt as he chuckles beneath me.

“You already have,” he says with a smirk. He points to a couple of paintings hidden in the back of the closet.

Anything I paint of Joel has to either be obscure, or hidden so Ellie doesn't find it. I’ve been able to paint him from memory, but it would be nice to have a visual for once.

“No, I want you to model for me.” Joel shifts uncomfortably as I run my hands along his arms. “Please, just for a little bit. The lighting is so good right now.”

Joel huffs, but nods his head. I happily grab the chair from Ellie’s desk and place it in front of the window. He grumpily sits down and allows me to position him the way I want. I put one of his arms around the back of the chair and the other resting on his knee.

He stays still as I pick out my colors and get the canvas ready. It isn’t until after I’ve painted his form and begun to work on the details that he starts to get antsy. He moves slightly in the chair, apologizing when I shoot him a look. His eyes wander the room as I paint the highlight of the golden sun on his cheek.

“What was she like?” Joel asks, breaking the silence in the room.

“Who?” I ask, keeping my focus on my painting.

“Your mom,” he responds. I freeze with the brush against the canvas.

It’s not that my mom was a bad person, but I find it hard to talk about her now. Talking about her is a reminder of what I’ve lost, and I hate to dwell in those feelings for long which is why I’ve been avoiding the topic.

This time there’s no way out. Joel waits patiently for my response, not moving from the position I’ve sat him in. I shift in my seat and clear my throat as I try to think of a way to explain who she was.

“She was really creative,” I start. “She never found something she couldn’t make herself. She was funny, and smart, and very supportive of Ellie and I in whatever we wanted to do.”

I smile at the memories of her, picturing the way she would pick Ellie up after a fall and sweep her into her arms.

“She loved deeply,” I continue. “She was strong in whatever she did. Which also meant she felt emotions really strongly, whether that was love or sadness or anger. I saw a lot more of that when I got older. After Ellie was born, her and my dad started fighting a lot more…”

My throat begins to become thick with emotion, so I clear it and focus on the light again. I work on getting the shadows correctly on his jaw, trying to ignore the way his eyes linger on my reaction.

“What about your dad?” I drop my paintbrush on the floor as Joel speaks again. I curse under my breath as I go to pick it up.

Talking about my mom is hard enough, but I wouldn’t know where to begin with my dad. I don’t know how to understand, let alone explain the two versions of him that exist in my mind. When I was small he was kind and playful, gone a lot but always present when he was there. Later in life, after he stopped traveling for work, he was irritable and withdrawn. He wasn’t mean, but he dampened the mood in the room.

“Can we just,” I take a breath as I stand up to paint again. “I’m sorry, I’m trying to focus right now.”

Joel’s eyes soften, noting that the mention of my father must have been too far. He remains silent as he watches me work for a little longer, but something is off now. The art becomes more mechanical and methodical than before. The brush doesn’t flow as it did. Joel must notice the difference too, because he shifts in his chair.

I begin to protest when he stands up from the chair I’ve sat him in. The lighting will be gone before he settles again. He tunes me out as he grabs the biggest empty canvas he can find and lays it flat on the ground.

“What are you-“ Joel grabs my palette from my hands next, placing it on the cart next to my easel. He cuts me off by placing a gentle kiss to my lips as his hands grab the hem of my shirt.

“It’s my turn,” he says. “Let me paint you.”

He pulls my shirt over my head, sucking in a breath when he exposes my bare chest and stomach, and then continues to undress me. His fingers grasp the waistband of my leggings. He pulls them down my legs, waiting on his knees for me to step out of them.

He puts my leggings in a pile on top of my shirt before kissing up my bare legs. I throw my head back and sigh at the feeling while his fingers climb up to my hips. He pulls my underwear down as well, leaving me completely bare in the middle of the room. Something about this feels more vulnerable than when we were on the stairs or in the kitchen. I’m suddenly aware of how exposed I am.

I shiver as he kisses his way back up my body. When he’s standing again he kisses my lips and then pulls back to look me over. His eyes gleam with desire as they graze over every inch of my body.

Joel is still wearing all his clothes. My hands reach forward to grip his shirt. I need us to be even. I can’t have everything focused on me right now, but that’s what Joel has decided.

He pushes my hands away and picks up a paintbrush. I watch him anxiously as he dips the brush in the bright yellow paint on my palette before turning back to me. I pinch my eyebrows together as he walks behind me.

My body jolts at the feeling of the cold liquid trailing down my skin. I can’t see what he’s doing, but I can feel the tickling sensation of a paint brush against my skin. He spends a while doing it, coating my entire back in an assortment of colors. When he’s done he walks me back to the canvas he placed on the floor.

“On your knees darlin’” he says, the paintbrush in his hands. I follow his instructions embarrassingly quickly.

Once I’m on my knees he delicately directs me backwards so I’m laying on top of the canvas on the floor, then he stands again. I begin to pant as I watch him load the palette up with colors again. He glances back in my direction quickly and then takes his shirt off. A tension builds in my pelvis as he takes off all of his clothes except for his boxers.

He brings the palette and brush back over to where I lay on the floor, putting them on the ground before kneeling in front of me. His eyes wander slowly over my body again. He mutters something I can’t quite hear under his breath while he picks up the paint brush again.

Gently he strokes the brush down the middle of my chest. I squirm at the feeling, the paint on my back smearing along the canvas as I do. A devious look appears in his eyes as he continues to run the brush along my chest and stomach until it runs out of paint. He loads the brush up with red next then starts with my left breast.

The bristles brush along the top of my breast until he reaches my nipple. I let out a whine as he swirls the brush along the sensitive nub. When he’s satisfied he chooses another color for the other breast, bright purple illuminating my skin as my chest begins to heave. I can feel the slick collecting between my thighs. I desperately need his hands on me which only makes him go slower.

When I’m completely covered in paint Joel puts the brush back down on the palette and sits on his knees to admire his work. I squirm again and desperately attempt to squeeze my legs together to ease the tension. My desperation only seems to darken the lust in his eyes. I try to sit up and reach for him, but he grabs my wrists and pins them above my head.

“Joel, please,” I whimper. His face hovers above mine, a cruel smirk spreading across it.

“Stay there babygirl,” he whispers and releases my hands.

I watch with heavy breaths as he moves back on the floor. His hands push my knees apart to expose my core to him. He groans at the sight of my glistening center.

“So fuckin’ wet baby,” he growls. He swipes his thumb across my folds causing me to jump. “You keep your hands up there sweetheart, don’t move ‘em or I’ll stop.”

I nod my head quickly, my hips gliding back and forth on the canvas as I wait for him to touch me again. He licks his lips before laying on the ground. His hands grip my thighs as he pulls himself up to my center. I feel his breath against me first, a rush of warm air causing the tension in my stomach to jump.

He presses a delicate kiss to my clit, teasing the sensitive bud, and then licks a stripe up my center. I moan and squirm again. His lips smile against my core as he pulls himself closer and thrusts his tongue inside me.

A loud guttural moan escapes my lips as he begins to feast between my thighs. I desperately grasp the edge of the canvas to keep my hands from grabbing him as he curls his tongue inside me. I could almost come from that alone, all the tension from his teasing building into a pit of pleasure in my core. I can’t control the way my body thrashes against the canvas as he moves his tongue to flick against my clit.

“God, Joel,” I moan. He picks up his speed, eating me as though it’s his last meal on earth. I’m already so close to the edge when he moves one hand from my thigh to press two fingers inside me.

I scream as he thrusts them in and out, my grip on the canvas tightening. I squeeze my eyes shut as the pressure builds. He crooks his fingers so they press against the sensitive part inside me. The rush of sensitivity as he does so is what causes me to break my resolve. Without thinking, my hands release the canvas and bury themselves in his hair.

Joel immediately pulls away, tutting his tongue as he crawls back to his knees. I whine again and attempt to pull him back to me as I squirm.

“Please, I’m sorry. Please, don’t stop,” I beg. Tears escape my eyes while I squeeze my thighs again, so desperate for the release that just barely escaped me.

“Oh princess, you make this so hard.” Joel says. He reaches a thumb to my cheek to wipe the tears away. “One more chance sweet girl, roll over.”

I look at him questioningly, but I’m too far gone to argue. I roll onto my hands and knees, the paint causing me to slide a bit on the canvas. He leans back and watches as I get myself ready for whatever he has planned next. I hear him shuffle behind me, but I can no longer see what he is doing.

When I’ve stopped moving his hand moves up my leg, gripping my ass for a moment before pulling away. I gasp when I feel his hands return with a sharp smack to my ass. Then he pulls my cheeks apart and moves forward.

He must have taken off his boxers when I turned around because I can feel his bare length push against my dripping folds. I bite my lip as he slides it against my center.

“You want this baby?” I nod, biting my lip so hard I can taste the blood filling my mouth. He moans as he presses himself forward, filling me once again.

I stay completely still while he pushes into me, focusing on the burning stretch until I feel his hips flush with my ass. I keep my hands rooted on the canvas as he pulls back again, but when he thrusts in harder than before I slide and collapse on my stomach. Joel goes down with me.

His chest is pressed against my back, his hands keeping mine pressed against the slippery canvas as he pulls back and thrusts into me again. We moan in unison as he continues his thrusts. My body sides across the canvas with each one and his slides against mine.

The whole thing is messy and slippery, a combination of sweat and paint with loud moans echoing down the halls. He kisses my neck, leaving marks on the skin, as my climax begins to build again. My walls clench around him, signaling how close I am. He thrusts harder, his fingers intertwined with mine as he slides my body up and down.

I’m staring out at the pink and purple sky through the window when orgasm crashes over me. My walls flutter around Joel as I scream. His low moans rumbling through his chest while he continues to thrust into me. When I come down he pulls out and directs me to get up.

He lays down on his back, moving me to climb on top of him. I position my knees on either side of his hips and watch his face twist in pleasure as I sink down on his length. The both of us are covered in paint now, a smattering of colors bleeding together on his chest as he grips my hips.

I throw my head back as I bounce in his lap. He feels so good at this angle. I can feel every vein and ridge of his cock as I slowly rise and lower my body onto him. It’s my turn to tease now.

I try to keep my pace slow, to torture him just a little bit, but it becomes difficult when I feel the pleasure bubbling up inside me again. I can see in his eyes he can tell I’m close again.

His hands move up to squeeze my breasts as I ride him. I feel his fingers pinching my paint covered nipples and moan. I’m not going to last long. He starts to thrust up as well, meeting me halfway as my hips start to lose momentum. My hands press against the canvas as I attempt to keep my pace with my climax looming over me.

“It’s okay sweet girl, come here,” he says. I lower my chest into his and let him take over. He thrusts hard into me a couple of times before I shudder again. “That’s right, let go. Come on.”

I clench around him one more time before letting go completely. He swallows my moans, kissing me deeply while he continues his thrusts until he can’t any longer.

“God, I’m gonna-“ he thrusts again and then stills. “Get up, you gotta-“

Joel pulls me off of him quickly. I climb down his body to take his pulsing member in my mouth. I swirl my tongue around the head, and that’s all he needs to release his load into my mouth with a deep moan. His hips twitch as he lets go, spilling into my mouth. When he finishes I sit up and swallow his load.

“Fuck,” he groans. I smile back at him. He carefully stands up, doing his best not to slip on the canvas.

We both stand back and look at what we created. It’s a mess of color, still wet with no clear reasoning behind any of it. There are places where the colors blend so much that they’ve become a muddled brown or gray. In other areas bright shades of color shine through virtually untouched.

“Damn, I really thought I did something there,” Joel says with his hands on his hips. “Kinda just looks like a mess though.”

I lean forward and kiss a patch of skin on his shoulder untouched by the paint.

“I don’t know, I kinda like it.” I say. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me close.

“Well, you’re the artist,” he says before pressing a kiss to my hair.

We abandon the idea of a movie completely, choosing instead to bathe together so we can wash the paint off our skin. Joel’s hands are gentle as they wash my body, the colorful water pooling at our feet. He let the water run cold against his back as he pushed his fingers inside me again, slowly working me up until my body spasms again.

The rest of the night we stayed in bed, talking and fucking until we fell asleep.

Read more on a03: Always an Angel, Never a God

#pedro pascal #smut #fanfic #joel miller smut #joel smut #joel tlou #joel miller #tlou hbo #tlou fanfiction #tlou smut #a03 writer #a03 fanfic

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moonknightly · 2 years

Text

with the lights out

jake lockley x reader (mentions of marc x reader and steven x reader)

word count: 2.7k+

excerpt: “he knows what’s next, he’s watched you on your knees for marc and steven both, committing your face to memory so he can recall it when he’s by himself with his hand wrapped around-”

warnings: smut smut smut, jake losing his virginity. oral, male receiving. p in v sex. reader calls him papi once.

Jake’s kissing you. His lips are chapped and somehow, he tastes different from Marc or Steven. He tastes like cinnamon, like spice and something else you can’t quite place but it’s just so Jake. So entirely Jake.

His hands are on your hips, fingers tight, nails leaving little crescent shaped indents like the ones Marc wears on his chest. You know you’ll have bruises in their place when you wake in the morning and examine yourself in the bathroom mirror, you know that Steven will fret and Marc will take Jake’s marks as a challenge.

He’s so sure in the way that he kisses, so confident in the way that he lets his hands slide up your body until he has your waist trapped between his hands. His grip isn’t any tighter, not really, but you feel more secure this way and Jake has more control over the way you move against him. He lays down, his back flush against the mattress and lips never leaving yours as you settle against his chest and become even more lost in him.

It’s perfect. Everything is going just right as he paws at your shirt, silently asking you to take it off and you hate that you have to break the kiss but you do. You toss the rumpled garment behind you, giving into the cliche of not caring where it lands, you just want the damn thing off and away. Jake sits up just enough to rip his off as well, and the feeling of his bare chest against yours sends a thrill down your spine. It’s the exact contact you need, skin on skin with one of the men you love.

But it’s not enough.

You need more.

You kiss for a while longer, letting your head become clouded in a lust-filled daze that only your boys are capable of inducing. Jake’s panting almost, his hands frantic as he continues to just touch you and let his fingers brush along any inch of skin he can reach. Your chest is heaving and your thighs would clench if his body wasn’t between them and again, everything is going just right. Just perfect. Jake rolls you over so you’re pinned underneath him and-

He stops. He just stops.

“What’s wrong?” you breathe, reaching for his belt, determined on continuing where he seemingly left off and he lets you because fuck, he wants this. He wants this, he wants you, more than anything and if the bulge in his jeans isn’t enough to prove it then his heart thumping against his chest should be.

“Nothing,” he mumbles, shaking his head like the physical action will actually work to clear his mind. “Just…keep going.”

He hopes you’ll keep going, that his lame “push” combined with the heat between your legs will be enough to get you to drop your question and move on.

Jake knows it’s pointless. He lost his confidence and you notice, of course you notice.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” you nudge, letting your hands still against his lower stomach, the button on his jeans undone and his zipper halfway down. “Do you not want to do this?”

“I do,” he rushes out, eyes turning almost frantic. “I do, princesa, believe me I do.”

You trust him, of course you do, but you also know him. You know there’s more to his words so you stay quiet, letting him decide when to unveil what’s weighing down on his mind. It only takes a second.

“We’ve just never done this before.”

You furrow your eyebrows and nod just a little. “I know…”

You and Jake are still fairly new, everything you’ve done thus far confined to kissing and light touching over top of your clothes. You don’t mind, of course you don’t mind. You think it’s sweet that he’s wanted to take everything so slow.

“I’ve never done this before…”

It takes you just a second to realize what he means, for his words to fully process and when they do, you hate to say it but you’re just a little shocked.

It never occurred to you that Jake might be a virgin.

“You’ve never had sex before?” you ask, cringing at the way your words come out and how they make Jake blush.

He shakes his head and clears his throat, trying to force away the heat in his cheeks but it’s useless. He’s embarrassed, he couldn’t deny it even if he tried.

You’re quiet for a moment or two, and you’re sure his brain isn't being very nice to him because Jake starts to fidget and pull away but you gently take his hands, stilling him, keeping him close. You don’t want him to think that his lack of experience means you don’t want him anymore and you can tell that’s where his head is going.

“You’re sure you want to give this to me?” you whisper, watching his eyes carefully for any sign of hesitancy or reluctance. “You want to let me have it?”

Jake melts but not because he finds your words cute or anything, no. He melts because they make his cock throb in his jeans and any self doubt he had running through his mind vanishes completely.

“I’m sure,” he mumbles, eyes blown, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “I just don’t want you to be disappointed is all, mi vida.”

You tsk under your breath, one hand moving from his stomach to the chain he wears around his neck, gently pulling until his lips are on yours again.

“You could never disappoint me,” you breathe against him, pushing your other hand into his undone jeans, gently rubbing over the front of his boxers. “Never, my love.”

Jake’s eyes almost roll into the back of his head. Your hand feels so good against him, your fingers squeezing his cock through the fabric of his underwear with just the perfect amount of pressure, just enough to have his back go rigid before he relaxes again, letting you work him however you want.

“S’good,” he whimpers, unable to keep himself from bucking his hips once or twice once you slide your hand into his boxers and he feels someone else’s touch for the first time. “Oh Dios.”

“Yeah?” you purr, unable to hide the little giggle that slips past your lips. “You like that honey?”

He nods desperately, borderline pathetically as another whimper catches in his throat. You wonder what kind of noises you’d be able to pull from him with your mouth.

“Sit on the edge of the bed.”

Jake does as you ask but only after you pull your hand away — if he’d had it his way, he never would’ve stopped rocking into your hand and he doesn’t know how anything could feel better but he knows there’s so much more to come, so much more to try. He knows what’s next, he’s watched you on your knees for Marc and Steven both, committing your face to memory so he can recall it when he’s by himself with his hand wrapped around-

He’s pulled from his thoughts when you settle yourself between his knees because fuck, you look better there than he remembered.

Maybe because this time it’s for him.

You work his jeans and his boxers down his legs and let them land in a pile, your movements completely graceful and Jake reminds himself that you’re familiar with his body, that you’ve had it before. He wonders if his body will react the same or differently to your touch than it will when Marc or Steven has control or if you’re really at an advantage, if you already know exactly what will make him desperate and needy and-

His thoughts are interrupted again when your tongue flicks against the head of his cock, his erection standing prominently in front of your face. He moans and shivers and this, he thinks. This, your lips taking his dick will be what kills him.

You take only an inch at first, giving him time to change his mind but he doesn’t, Jake couldn’t imagine doing such a thing. You take a little more when you bob your head a second time, then a little more on your third pass, and a little more until you’ve taken as much as you can possibly take. Jake doesn’t know what to do with his hands until you gag and for some reason that prompts him to thread his fingers into your hair and hold you there, his eyes slammed shut while he works to control himself.

You gag again and Jake pulls you up for air, his eyes locked on yours, dick throbbing at how they water and how eager you are to have your mouth on him again. You pull from his grip and take him again, bobbing your head quicker, letting yourself drool over his length and Jake almost loses it just from the sight of you. It’s almost too much and he almost cums and he doesn’t know how he’s going to last inside of you.

“Please,” he moans, fingers digging into the side of the mattress, his heels braced against the floor. “Fuck, please princesa.”

You seem to know what he’s begging for without having to ask, and while there’s a part of you that wants to ask just so you can hear him stumble through his answer, you don’t want to tease him right now. You’re nearly as desperate as he is.

“You want me baby?” you purr after popping off of his length.

Jake nods frantically, again not sure what to do with his hands or really himself at all. You push yourself up using his thighs and guide his hands to the waistband of your leggings, prompting him to pull them down your legs. He throws them next to his discarded jeans and physically gulps when he takes you in for the first time.

Again, it’s nothing like when he’s watched you with Marc or Steven. You’re far more perfect now that he’s sitting in the driver’s seat and he’s not sure how that’s possible but fuck, Jake knows there’s no way he’s going to last.

Your voice breaks him from his trance and his eyes almost begrudgingly leave your tits to find your face. You smile, definitely teasing him now though you don’t comment on his apparent infatuation with your chest.

“Let me take care of you?”

Jake’s nodding again before you can even finish your sentence. He wants, he just wants you so badly he’s not sure he can take it. But then you’re pushing his shoulder until his back meets the mattress, and then you swing your leg over his hips and he feels your heat, feels your arousal as you slowly slide yourself along his dick and he knows he can’t take it.

“Can I touch you first?” he asks, looking almost panicked, like the thought of you not getting to cum breaks his heart and it’s so entirely endearing, you almost agree. Almost.

“Tonight isn’t about me papi,” you hum, letting your fingers trail against his cheek for a moment. “We’ll have all the time in the world for that. Just let me focus on you right now, hm?”

He’s about to protest again but then you rock your hips, just once, but it’s enough to make Jake’s eyes roll into the back of his head, a strangled curse catching behind his teeth.

He hardly recovers before he feels you position his length at your entrance, and Jake holds his breath as you sink onto him, your movements almost painfully slow but calculated, your eyes locked on his face because you don’t want to miss a single expression, a single second.

Jake’s chest is heaving as he struggles to keep himself composed. If he’s being honest, he just wants to grab your hips and sloppily thrust up into you until he meets his end but that’s just the lust talking.

“Fuck,” he hisses, glancing down the where your two bodies meet to watch you struggle to take the last inch of him. You whimper, and Jake’s cock twitches at the sound and the way your walls flutter around him. “Oh fuck, princesa.”

You brace yourself against his chest and give yourself, and him, just a second to adjust. Now it’s your turn to leave little halfmoon marks in his skin as you dig your nails into his body, the pressure and the angle when you start to roll your hips making you ache in such a delicious way.

Jake is a complete mess underneath you, swear after swear flying past his lips, his eyes blown and he’s not sure if he’d rather watch your tits bounce or if he wants to watch the way you throw your head back and moan so pretty for him or if he wants to watch where he’s disappearing inside of you. He focuses on your tits once you take his hands and put them on your chest, silently telling him to squeeze or pinch or do whatever he wants.

“That’s so good,” he moans, unable to keep his hips still as he rocks up once, twice, a third time. “Tan bueno baby, fuck.”

Each thrust pulls a little gasp from you, your back arching further into his touch. Though he didn’t tell you, you know Jake isn’t going to last but the ache in your clit is demanding attention, your body begging for a release you don’t want him to worry about. You want him to focus solely on his own pleasure.

So you snake your hand between your bodies and start to rub at your clit, losing your rhythm for just a split second at the initial contact before you find it again. Jake’s eyes are wide as he watches you work yourself on top of him, and he wills his orgasm away because he doesn’t want to miss a moment. He wants to watch you fall apart on top of him, wants to see your release coat his cock.

He smacks your hand away and replaces your fingers with his own. You start to shake your head, start to protest but Jake just shushes you through grit teeth, letting himself focus on your pleasure but it doesn’t really work all that well. Knowing that he’s getting you off only brings him closer to his release.

“Fuck,” Jake groans, stopping just long enough for him to flip you over. His hips start against you, his pace messy and frantic but he’s desperate, you’re desperate. “Please,” he begs, his voice strained as his hips start to falter though his fingers never stop rubbing your pussy. “Please princesa, fuck please, give it to me. Fuck please.”

Jake still cums first, he can’t help it. It’s just so good, it’s so much and it’s perfect but the noise he makes as he spills into you combined with the furious way he plays with your clit has you following not long behind. Jake’s cock is sensitive, so so fucking sensitive but it’s so worth it to watch you writhe on top of him. So fucking worth it.

You collapse against his chest and Jake takes a deep breath, not realizing he’d been holding it once the pleasure had become too much. His heart is racing, he can feel his pulse all through his body and he’s covered in sweat and spit and he thinks he could fall asleep right then and there but it’s perfect. He’s never felt so fucking good or so fucking wanted before and it’s perfect.

He doesn’t want you to move when you start to pull yourself away, a gentle protest on his lips but you only shush him with a kiss before retreating to the bathroom, coming back a moment later with a warm cloth so you can clean the both of you up. Jake thinks he might start to cry.

And honestly? He does.

But they’re happy tears. He’s so fucking happy. He never imagined finding someone who could love him, he never thought you’d want him the same way that you want Marc and Steven but you’re here, taking care of him and kissing him and loving him.

Jake’s kissing you again. And Dios, he never wants to stop.

#jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #moon knight #marc spector #steven grant #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader

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darsynia · 1 year

Text

Hand(s) Off | Ch1: Agony

(Steve Rogers/f!Reader sex pollen-esque multichapter)

STORY MASTERLIST | STEVE MASTERLIST | NEXT

Summary: Bucky Barnes is the most important person in your life. When he confesses to you that he lives at the Avengers tower, and the 'Steve' you've been hearing about for months is actually Steve Rogers, you think that nothing can top that revelation-- and then you find yourself trapped in Captain America's bedroom getting a second-hand dose of NYC's favorite new aphrodisiac, Mistress.

Length | Warnings: 3,271 | None this chapter; story will contain explicit sex descriptions and situations, MINORS DNI

Note: I want to make clear that I'm treating the issues of consent with sensitivity. This is not even a dubious consent story in my eyes; the choices these characters make are kind, as clear-eyed as possible under the circumstances, and respectful-- in fact, that's what causes problems for Steve and Dee in the long run. I do want to be clear though: there will be sexual stuff in this story. I'm not teasing you. It won't be clinical or tortured :)

Fill: Adoptable 'Pheremones' from @allcapsbingo

Tags (please request!): @starryeyes2000 @munstysmind @ronearoundblindly @chickensarentcheap @themaradaniels @tiny-anne @deepbatched @nekoannie-chan

Excerpt:

“You grew up with Captain America?” you ask, impressed. Bucky Barnes can really keep a secret.

“Not at all. I grew up with Steve. Skinny, brave Steve. Never backed down from a fight, and now he doesn’t have to. C’mon,” he says, nodding toward the Avengers tower that’s visible in the distance.

There’s something in the back of your mind that’s important, something-- “Oh my God, Bucky!” you gasp, almost stumbling in your shock. “I dragged you to that trivia night, and you did so badly on the Avengers questions! You let me answer the all Captain America ones myself! I totally went on and on about how wonderful and handsome Steve Rogers is. I talked about his ass-- and he’s your best friend?”

“You squeak any higher you’re going to start catching the attention of every purse dog in the city,” Bucky teases gruffly. You shoot a look over, noticing that he’s trying not to grin.

“You jerk!” you say, nudging his right arm with your left elbow. “Were you feeling me out?”

Bucky starts cough-laughing. “You’re going to have to define that one for me.”

Chapter One: Agony

He’s falling and you can’t do anything about it.

Bucky’s shirt catches on a stub of a branch on the way down. You, the child whose balloon he was retrieving, and the kid’s mother all rush over when he lands in a heap.

“Oh my god, are you--” the mom starts to say.

“Here you go, kid. Hold tight, I’m not going after it again,” Bucky interrupts, hauling himself to his feet.

“Wow! That looks like it didn’t hurt at all!” the kid says.

“It hurts. Everything hurts. I’m just trying to impress her.” He nods in your direction.

Even though it makes you crack up (because he’s absolutely not), this seems to do the trick. The mom takes a minute to tie a more secure knot in the balloon string before smiling nervously at the two of you and leading her son away.

“I’m sorry,” you wince, taking a picture of the hand-sized rip at Bucky’s armpit that reveals the metal of his arm underneath. You’ve never seen the whole thing, but you’ve felt the arm through his sleeve a couple of times.

“Why are you sorry? You told me not to do it.”

“I’m sorry to have been right?”

“Yeah, okay,” he says grimly, scowling at the phone you handed him and reaching around to feel the edges of the tear. “It shows the join, doesn’t it?”

You’ve been trying not to look, because, yeah, it does. The skin edging the metal graft looks burned and painful, definitely not appropriate for your museum plans. Bucky takes in your uncomfortable nod and his jaw clenches.

“We don’t have to go,” you offer.

“We’re going. I just have to…” He trails off, twisting the shirt around to get a better look. The two of you had decided to take the long way through the park. There’s about an hour before the interactive exhibit opens, but it’s the last day. He wouldn’t even tell you how he got the tickets.

“Okay, what if we swing by a corner store so I can grab a sewing kit--”

Bucky interrupts in a firm voice. “No need to waste the money. I’ll head back home to change; we can get a taxi from there. It’s a bit of a walk.” He shrugs the shirt back into position and starts back the way you’d come.

You have to jog to catch up. “That works.” There are a million things you want to say, but it’s Bucky who speaks first, after fifteen minutes of silence. The two of you reach a crosswalk, and he stops you with his left arm, which in your opinion is a choice.

“Spit it out.”

“You were keeping things separate. You shouldn’t change your mind unless you want to,” you say quietly. He’d said he wanted to keep this friendship to himself for a while, with no connection to the past, and no expectation for the future. You’d found that unexpectedly refreshing at the time, and you still do.

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Bucky says. “It’s time. I probably would have sat on it for another month anyway.”

It’s been a six month journey from friendly to friends to close friends for the two of you, and it’s only been two months since he’d opened up about his agonizing past. You don’t know everything yet, and that’s okay. You might never know. As long as Bucky knows he can trust you, that’s what matters.

The light changes, and he guides you across, his body language more relaxed now. Still, you want to make things as easy for him as possible.

“I can wait in the lobby--”

“Shit. That won’t help,” Bucky says, coming to a complete stop in the middle of the sidewalk. “Did you ever look me up?”

“No! You asked me not to.”

He looks at you like you’re some sort of rare creature for a minute, and a slow, appreciative smile grows on his face. You get it-- when he’d told you his actual birthdate, that he’d gone missing in the 40’s, you’d been tempted. But… when someone with a medically engineered metal arm asks you not to poke around in his past, you don’t. Not if you care about him.

“There was a good reason for that, I’m assuming?”

Bucky’s chuckle is deep and amused. “Yeah. I ah, live with the Avengers. Steve’s last name is Rogers. Steve Rogers.”

You’ve heard all about his best friend Steve, enough to feel affection for the man without ever having met him-- but this is not what you were expecting. At all.

“You grew up with Captain America?” you ask, impressed. Bucky Barnes can really keep a secret.

“You squeak any higher you’re going to start catching the attention of every purse dog in the city,” Bucky teases gruffly. You shoot a look over, noticing that he’s trying not to grin.

“You jerk!” you say, nudging his right arm with your left elbow. “Were you feeling me out?”

Bucky starts cough-laughing. “You’re going to have to define that one for me.”

“--stop by, that’s all I ask. Redwing would love it,” Sam grins as he opens the door to Tony’s lab.

“I’ll try, but did you have to say it like that?” Steve groans before heading into Dr. Banner’s workspace right next door. A new street drug named Mistress has been causing concern, and with SHIELD still in transition, the government has called on the scientific wing of the Avengers to help figure out how to combat the substance.

Mistress is an aphrodisiac, a potent one. Banner’s preliminary tests show that it’s likely not of Earth origin, which has slowed down their testing considerably due to safety concerns. That’s where Steve comes in; Bruce thinks his fast metabolism could be the key to figuring the stuff out without putting too many others at risk. That and his lack of a romantic partner.

Apparently the drug enhances a person’s desire to have sex to a strong need, strong enough that there’s no data on what happens if they don’t. The stuff reportedly burns through people, causing dangerous fevers that have officials fearful that someone’s going to get dosed and killed, not to mention the consent issues.

“Hey, Steve,” Banner says. “I don’t know if you’ve met Doctor Lyonne?”

“I haven’t. First or last name?” Steve asks the attractive female doctor.

“Oh, nice one. ‘Lyonne’ is my married name, though. Sorry to possibly disappoint,” she says easily.

Banner smiles at Steve’s wave-off gesture and says, “I’ll leave you two experts to the interpersonal stuff.” He ignores them in favor of a large glass jar with a bunch of warning labels stuck to it. The liquid inside is clear, and all signs point to it being the drug in question. “All right,” Bruce finally says, stepping away and scratching out about four things on his clipboard. “The plan is to expose you in measured doses and observe the results. It’s pretty volatile-- works if ingested, soaks into the skin, and we think it’s capable of being aerosolized under certain conditions. Drinking it will be the most controlled method, so Dr. Lyonne is setting up dosing cups for me. She’s got a class to teach in about forty minutes, so--”

“That’s his delicate way of saying I’ll be out of your hair and unable to observe anything you’ll be going through over the course of the tests,” Lyonne interrupts.

The door that joins the two labs swings open before Steve can respond, and Tony leans his head in. He’s wearing one of his Iron Man suits. “Before you ramp up Icy Hot here, can I show you my new toy?”

“This is a segue to a sex toy joke, Steve. Retreat, retreat!” Sam calls out from behind Tony.

“I’m wounded!” Tony says, muttering, “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that first.” He walks in and grins, holding up his left arm. “Check it out. Nav is still a little spotty, but--”

Steve watches as a shape lifts up from Tony’s bicep area on the suit, similar to Redwing but oval and smaller.

“Tony, I’d be happy to look at it pretty much any other time, but--”

“You have the whole rest of the day blocked out, Bruce, just give me this!”

The friendship between Stark and Banner always makes Steve nervous. They are the closest aligned in terms of work ethic and smarts, but farthest apart in temperament-- and that’s before the Hulk is brought into play. Steve inches closer to the large glass jug of Mistress as Tony gesticulates wildly, sending the drone careening around the room.

It starts beeping.

“Shit!” Tony shouts. “Uh… apparently something I did set the self-destruct?”

“Why does your drone have a self destruct, Tony?”

Bruce sounds incredulous and angry, and Steve doesn’t have his shield. As though Tony had set up the whole situation for maximum drama, the thing is headed straight for the jug. Steve lunges to protect it as Bruce maneuvers himself to take the explosion for the team. Someone screams for JARVIS to lock down the building.

Steve lifts the drug container high, meaning to leap out of the way with it, but there’s nowhere to go. The drone’s explosive impact brings forth the Hulk-- which sends Steve and the jug flying backwards into the lab equipment.

Things turn a bit surreal when you enter the tower. Bucky takes you to a secret side entrance (to avoid the press, he says) but when he gets into the elevator, he seems confused when he can’t talk to it. You’re just about to make a Star Trek joke when he explains there’s usually an artificial intelligence that runs the building, but it’s not responding.

You’re used to pretty much anything apartment-related being out of order, so you’re not fazed. Once inside his apartment, you point out that there’s a sticky note on the opposite side of the door, and Bucky grabs it, his brows furrowing as he reads.

“Shit,” he grins, holding up the note. “Stay here? You’re not authorized for this area.”

“Better hurry!” The tickets for the exhibit are for 1:30, and it’s already 12:50. With a nod, he jogs back into the hallway toward the elevator, and just like that you’re alone in Bucky’s apartment.

It is immediately apparent that he doesn’t live here alone. Underneath a coat rack with multiple jackets is a shoe tray with at least five pairs of shoes in two different sizes. The living room is cozy and lived-in; you see the familiar sight of a bottle of Bucky’s favorite beer sitting on an end-table-- right beside a coaster.

You’re about to reach for it when an alarm sounds, accompanied by an urgent voice.

=Tier One protection activated. Retreat to an interior room and wait for further instructions. Attention: Tier One protection activated. Retreat to an interior room and wait for further instructions.=

You freeze in fear for a few seconds, but when the instruction repeats a few seconds later, you hear a grinding noise in the wall. It’s frightening enough that you dart into the hallway and inside the first open door. The reason for the sound becomes terrifyingly clear a few seconds later as a metal panel encased in the doorframe slides down, too quickly for you to slip out underneath it.

The room turns pitch black in the space between one frightened breath and the next.

After taking a minute to listen for danger, you make your way by feel to the far wall, looking for the light switch. On the way, you trip over something that turns out to be a pair of men’s slippers. You’re glad to let your eyes adjust to the light as you put them back, but when you straighten up, you immediately feel like you’re trespassing somewhere you do not belong.

The room is neat as hell, the kind of tidiness that must come from enjoying a clean space rather than a sense of obligation. However, you soon reassess: this is lived in, less frighteningly neat than well-designed. Everything has its place. It’s different from the easy chaos that Bucky has shown on the few times he’s slept over after movie marathons, so you’re pretty sure this isn’t his room. That, and the white cat plushie you gave him that he swears lives on his dresser? Isn’t there.

Instead, the tray with grooming materials in front of a small mirror are the only objects on the dresser top. There’s a low bookshelf next to an easy chair whose footrest has a worn-in divot. The nightstand is equally neat and functional, with a slightly askew sketchbook hinting that the room’s occupant is an artist.

Unfortunately, these observations are making you more nervous, not less. An intrusive thought that the alarm could be about a fire and there’s literally no way out sends you into a frenzy of banging on the inexorable metal slab.

“Hello?? HELLO!? Please let me out, please, please let me out!” you scream, slamming your fists against the damned barrier until your hands hurt. You’re crying and frantic and yelling, and suddenly there’s someone else on the other side of the door also yelling, and in the next few minutes everything happens at once.

You can’t see anything through your tears and fear; all you know is the feel and sound of strong hands and a soothing voice that isn’t Bucky but it should be. That thought sends you into more frightened tears, because he’ll be worried, he’ll be upset, and it might send him into a spiral like the one from a few months ago when he finally explained about his past.

Then, awfully, the grinding sound is back and the warm hands are gone.

You hear several shouted, imperative commands before the man falls silent. He’d set you down in a huddle on the bed wrapped in a blanket, and you kind of… drift back into awareness surrounded by the strong scent of coconut, with a not-unpleasant buzz of awareness deep in your gut.

You pull the blanket closer before you recognize it. You’d been working on it during the first few movie nights you and Bucky had shared, and he’d bought it as a gift for his best friend. That’s what brings you fully back to yourself: you’d handmade the thing that’s warming you up. You’ll be able to tell Bucky that. It’ll help, when the time comes.

Taking in a long, deep breath, you look around, expecting, since you’re no longer alone, to see anything but a metal panel completely covering the door. You’re wrong. There’s damage to the frame, as though someone had pried the previous slab out of the way-- but there’s once again a solid-looking metal barrier between you and freedom.

“Are you okay?” It’s Captain Am-- Rogers. Steve. Bucky’s Steve.

The unreality of your situation is fully hitting you now.

“That’s what you’re going with? Not ‘who are you?’ or ‘funny story about the door…’”

Rogers says, “I did. You were too upset to answer.” He’s tense, clearly uncomfortable, and his clothes are soaked. You wonder if that’s the source of the strange fruity smell.

“Dee. I’m Dee.” It’s short for Chickadee, your stage-name-turned-favorite-nickname. You think you see recognition in his eyes. “Bucky needed to change his shirt. I didn’t mean-- you have to believe me, I never would have come in here, but he said he would just be a minute, and then a voice told me to hide and…” You’re babbling, but you feel like you’re out of your mind. Of all the people in the world, you’d probably pick Captain America as the one person you’d want to know that you’re eating your vegetables and being polite to your elders, that you wouldn’t invade someone’s private space. “Did something happen to the building?” you ask in a small voice.

“No, this--” Rogers winces. “Bucky asked for extra security or he wouldn’t move in. To slow him down.”

“The Soldier,” you whisper, closing your eyes tightly.

He makes a noise of understanding, then a louder, angry sound. “Everything has gone the exact worst-- I’m sorry,” he grits out. “I’m sorry.”

The depth to his voice prompts a heated curl of attraction that warms you from the inside out. It’s unexpected and strange, given the fear and confusion that’s ruled your reactions in the past minutes.

“I think I should be asking if you are okay.”

Rogers is looking at the floor now, his hands fisted in his pockets. “I was exposed to a… chemical. Tried to do everything right: activated security protocols, set the apartment Dark so I didn’t say or do anything I’d regret before the brain fog set in.”

“What happens when the brain fog sets in?” you whisper, sensing that the answer is what has this man’s body stiff as a board, in contrast with his broken and worried tone.

“How close are you with Buck?” Rogers lifts his head and the intensity in his eyes shoots you with an arrow of concern.

You lift your chin. “Truthfully? I consider him my best friend, why?”

“There’s nothing… more?”

There have been times, multiple times, when you’ve thought about it. But Bucky Barnes is a multifaceted man, and you don’t want to sully his progress towards becoming whole again by making things complicated.

“No,” you say, feeling heat in your chest from the look of understanding in his eyes. Your pause was unintentionally illustrative. “Why?”

“It’s important that I be honest with you: the building is on lockdown, its governing AI is too busy monitoring the Hulk to get us out of this room, and the chemical I was exposed to is Mistress.” He sounds like a soldier reciting battle parameters.

The name sounds familiar, but you can’t place it. Suddenly, you feel too vulnerable on the bed, his bed, so you slide over to the edge in preparation for getting up. The action bares your legs to mid-thigh, and Rogers immediately turns his back on you and hits the wall with the flat of his hand.

That’s when you remember where you’d heard that name. Mistress. The aphrodisiac is the reason many women have flocked to your cousin’s restaurant to hang out, instead of at bars. Many establishments are offering complimentary test kits so their customers can ensure there’s no residue in their food and drinks. It’s become fashionable to carry around your own cups, just in case. Some bars are actually trying to skip requiring women to pay a cover charge, desperate to return to the status quo. Drinks containing coconut aren’t even served anymore, thanks to the scent association.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” you blurt out, rushing over to the easy chair and covering yourself with the blanket. Jesus, the whole room reeks of coconut. He’s practically steeped in the stuff. “What can I do?”

Steve Rogers’ voice is husky, but pained. “Don’t let today be your first impression of me.”

Next chapter...

#allcapsbingo2023 #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #captain america x reader #captain america smut #captain america x f!reader #steve rogers x f!reader #captain america x you #marvel fanfiction #marvel smut #mcu smut #mcu fanfiction #sex pollen #humor #romance

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something-ricked-this-way-comesx · 2 months

Text

Dick Prime

Warnings: (18+ only minors DNI), NSFW, 5k word count, fem reader, self- insert OC character, daddy kink, p in v, rick prime with feelings, big dick Rick, degradation a bit, rough sex, praise kink, marking kink, choking, orgasms, cream-pie, fingering, nipple play, manhandling, calling him God, age gap I guess

Hi guys, this is an excerpt chapter from a Rick Sanchez fan fic I have been working on - thought I'd share a little taste on here and see if I could get any feedback. This chapter in particular follows my self-insert, Aurora as she is kidnapped by Rick Prime - enjoy :) If y'all would like me to post and share my other chapters pls reblog or comment 💜

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I woke up in a unfamiliar place٫ my head pounding viscously as my eyes struggled to adjust to the room around me. This place kind of looked like some sort of space motel room٫ but I couldn't remember a thing from the last 12 drunken hours of my life - I clearly needed to dial back my drinking or just not let Rick bet he can out drink me. I’ve never won that challenge. He really does have the hardest working liver in the universe, that's for damn sure. I wondered if he was feeling the same٫ but I doubted he was even remotely feeling hungover since he was used to getting black-out drunk on the regular.

I flicked my wrist out٫ wanting to portal into Rick’s shoddy bedroom where I could crawl into his sad excuse of a bed (which was really just a small sized cot) with him so that he could hold me tightly while we slept. That plan was quickly cut as I noticed my portal bracelet was no longer on my wrist and it was no where to be found anywhere near me - what the fuck was going on?

Then I realized where I was - the realization smacking me hard in the face like a fucking freight train. The elaborate sci-fi technical patterns covering every square inch of this room should have been a dead give away from the second I laid eyes on it٫ but I was obviously still too inebriated to use my cognitive functions correctly. I was in what I was 95% sure was Rick Prime’s lair - that fucking cocksucker. How had he managed to find me? Much less find a way to lure me back to where he's been hiding this whole time.

As I was taking in every inch of the room in search of any kind of weapon, maybe even some sort of weird sci-fi button on a wall that I could press and magically find a way out of here under Prime’s nose, I suddenly heard a voice behind me٫ the sound striking me so hard I jumped.

“Great you’re awake٫ care to join me for breakfast?” Prime’s voice asked as he nonchalantly yet menacingly stood in the doorway of the room٫ his shoulder leaning up against the doorframe.

“Oh fuck you!” I spit٫ words coming out of my mouth coated in venom like I was a snake ready to strike.

“Like you have a choice. It’s funny that you thought you did. Let's get something straight٫ you’re mine now٫ so it's best you learn early that you WILL do as I say or there will be consequences.”

“What do you even want from me? Wasn’t killing Diane enough for you?”

“Of course it wasn't٫ but you're not here so I can kill you unfortunately. You’re here because do you know how rare you are?” He paused٫ walking forward into the room causing me to back up back onto the bed like a frightened little mouse. Damn, his presence was so intense. He started pacing a bit٫ back and forth٫ arms crossed across his chest as he did so. He turned to me and looked me directly into my eyes before he started speaking again.

“Every conceivable Rick in the universe would happily serve their own balls on a platter for a little taste of what you have to offer - this makes you especially interesting to me. Not only are you one sexy piece of ass٫ you are a Rick’s gateway to so much unlocked potential.”

“Excuse me?”

“If ‘wife guy’ was smart he would have stolen your research from you a long time ago. Do you know how long it took for me to find you? It makes me horny just thinking about all that untapped knowledge you have floating around in that brain of yours.”

“Anything my Rick wanted from me he got because he asked for it. Sorry٫ but I don’t barter for things I created especially not to a sci-fi douchebag like you.”

“No one said anything about bartering. I’m simply going to take what I need via brain scan and then you’re going to put out like a good little girl because when in Rome.”

“My Rick is going to kill you ya know? You’ve taken enough from him and he isn’t going to let you take me too.”

“I’ve avoided him this long and clearly he hasn't learned his lesson yet. I’ve recreated the omega device and this time it can fire more than once٫ I’ll wipe out his entire family line he comes anywhere close to me. I’d kill you too if you weren't so valuable - you should be lucky that a guy like me finds any interest in anyone but himself.”

“You might think that you have me right where you want me٫ but I’m gonna enjoy watching my Rick kill you when he finds you and if you’re lucky maybe we’ll have sex next to your corpse.” I said٫ my words carrying through the air like poison coursing through my vascular system.

It probably wasn’t in my best interest to be taunting Prime the way I was٫ but I refused to let this son of a bitch have it easy especially when it was his dumb ass decision to kidnap me. He knew my Rick was looking for him and he knew he was getting close hence why he even bothered making such an elaborate take on his own already ‘overkill’ device. All that brain and this motherfucker couldn’t grasp the fact that killing peoples’ loved ones doesn’t really warrant being left alone.

“You think I couldn’t just take you right here if I wanted to? I’d bend you over that table and destroy that tight little pussy of yours and I just might considering you have no idea when to shut that bitch mouth of yours.” He grabbed me by the throat as he said that٫ squeezing the sides of my neck hard as he pulled me up and close to him. If I didn’t hate this Rick - I would have thought this interaction was so hot٫ too bad it was Prime.

“I’d like to see you try.” I said before spitting in his face٫ which in hindsight might have been a mistake٫ but it was too late to take it back.

Prime still had me by the neck٫ but he sighed heavily before shoving me onto the floor - catching myself on my hands before I hit the ground.

“Don’t even bother trying to use any of your cybernetics - I put a lock on all of your tech and good luck putting up much of a fight without it.”

---------- 2 weeks later —--------

Over the few weeks that I had been here٫ regardless of how much of an asshole Prime was٫ no matter what it was that I needed or asked (within reason) for he was quick to give it to me. He didn’t appreciate any of my back talk and if I overstepped too far he did with hold things from me as a punishment٫ but for the most part it seemed like his intentions with me weren’t entirely evil - something I not only found puzzling٫ but very difficult to believe was actually genuine.

I pushed the limits of what he would allow a little bit further everyday٫ hoping to gain his trust so that I would be able to either escape or find someway to get a message to my Rick. I still wasn't exactly sure where we even were in relation to the universe - the curve - or maybe we were outside it? It was hard to know with the very little freedom within this elaborate sci-fi base that I was allowed. The most I could do while here was think - run through multiple plans and assess the probability of success rate to each plan I thought of. Most٫ if not every٫ plan I had managed to conjure up was far from impervious to any snags or complete failure given then sheer innate ability of Rick Prime to always somehow be 10 steps ahead.

Today felt different though٫ I couldn't explain it٫ but as I sat across from him eating the breakfast that he had prepared for me - I could feel a different kind of tension in the air.

“Do you want to know why exactly you’re so special٫ Aurora?”

“I’m sure you’re gonna tell me even if I say no, so why the hell not?”

I was pushing around my eggs with my fork now٫ waiting patiently for his response. He kept telling me how ‘rare’ and ‘special’ I was to his grand design٫ but no matter how often he brought this up (which felt like constantly)٫ he refused to tell me how and why. Until now that is٫ which also struck me as weird.

“In order for you to even exist at all٫ Diane had to die you know? You’re familiar with the big bang I assume?”

“Nah٫ I just have a PhD in Quantum Physics for absolutely no reason at all - in fact٫ I just printed it off the internet completely fabricated credentials.” I said٫ the sarcasm clear in my tone as I spoke - I ran the risk of him punishing me for doing so٫ but he was usually lenient with my sarcasm since it matched his overt cynicism. It was my sharp tongue for disrespect and foul insults that really got under his skin.

“Well when I created the omega device to wipe out Diane٫ I didn't think to solve for any kinds of ripple effect that it might cause.”

“Meaning what exactly?”

“Well not completely unlike the big bang - the destruction of Diane’s life across infinity somehow resulted in the cataclysm that created X-258.”

“You’re saying you're responsible for me even existing? How is that even possible? Rapid succession in an inflationary epoch?”

“Precisely - well said. This means that without my omega device٫ you wouldn’t exist. How do you think ‘'wife guy” is going to react when he finds out that I literally made his new slam piece?”

“If you’re even telling the truth٫ which I suppose it is possible therefore also equally not possible by association. I guess given the rightly distribution of a negligible density gradient in order to deter the collapse into just a black hole and taking into consideration cosmic acceleration - I can’t disprove your theory٫ but that doesn’t mean you aren’t just bullshitting me right now.”

“As much as I love bullshitting and torturing other Rick’s for my own amusement٫ this is as real as real gets Aurora. You are only here because Diane had to die. You’re welcome and I’ll be accepting all forms of payment as a thank you٫ especially sexual favors.”

“Wow٫ so my whole life is a lie - imagine that.”

“You don’t seem too deeply affected by this revelation?”

“Did you expect me to lose my mind over a random occurring cosmological event? There was no way you knew your elimination of Diane would result in the formation of a universe that randomly produced me - so you did something by accident which is literally how 80% of all scientific findings usually occur. You aren’t special or interesting just because you managed to create a random event in spacetime - I do appreciate your massive need to milk your ego about it though.”

“Spoken like a true Rick - which you are as far as I’m concerned. The most intriguing out of any possible iteration.”

“So what exactly about that makes me so valuable to you?”

“Other than the fact that ‘'wife guy” loves you٫ according to my advanced research using your brain scans and blood and tissue samples٫ I should be able use both to develop the infinite Rick serum which would make me immortal. I’m not referencing no low grade cybernetic٫ tech bullshit either. I’m talking real٫ invincible immortality. An actual God with the power to create and destroy whatever and whoever I want - 100% unstoppable.”

“Wow٫ who could have possibly guessed that the power hungry evil٫ emo٫ sci-fi Rick with a nondescript haircut would want something so nuanced and lame? If you’re immortal that kind of takes away from the pay off does it not? Not that doing anything honorably is a concern of yours of course.”

“So what do you think about giving your input on something for me?”

“Once again - why bother even asking if you’re just going to make me do it anyways?”

“I guess to give you the illusion of free will or just maybe I kind of like you - don’t get a big head about it though I would still kill you without a second thought if I ever needed to.”

“Okay what exactly am I giving my input on?”

“I feel it may be best to just show you - meet me in the lab after you’ve finished your breakfast. Don’t keep me waiting long, it won’t end well for you.”

I rolled my eyes at his threatening tone as he got up from the table and left the room, I don’t know why I was so attracted to Prime the way I was - especially after what he did to my Rick, but I came to the ultimate conclusion that it was because him and my Rick were indeed so similar. The two Rickest Ricks in all of the infinite number of Rick’s that existed - the only two Rick’s to actually invent portal travel. In a way, my Rick only existed the way he did because of Prime’s destruction of his simple, domestic life. Prime was literally just my Rick without any sense of moral obligation and no matter how much I tried to convince myself that this fucker was bad and that I needed to distance myself - I simply couldn’t. I felt like my dna was so entangled up in having love for Rick that despite Prime’s obvious evil, I still loved him for simply just being a version of Rick. How fucked was that? Jesus fucking Christ - I needed out of here and soon before I really fucked up.

I finished my breakfast and headed out of the kitchen and into Prime’s elaborate sci-fi laboratory - this guy never did anything subtle that was for fucking sure and his attention to detail was absolutely infallible. He had something pulled up on the screen above where he was sitting and the closer I got, the more my eyes focused on the image. It was an image of me with a younger Rick, my Rick and Birdperson when we were together as freedom fighters on Glap-Flaps Third Moon. The Battle of Blood Ridge - this image was obviously a snapshot taken from my mind when Prime brain scanned me, but I didn’t really understand its significance to him. But, I’m sure he was going to tell me even if I didn’t exactly care to know.

“Blood Ridge?” I questioned, my arms crossed across my chest as I approached his sitting form and stood beside him to wait for his response.

“Seems like Nietzsche wasn’t totally blowing smoke out of his ass when he said that whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster -”

“And if you gaze long enough into the abyss, the abyss will gaze back at you. What does Nietzsche have to do with Blood Ridge?” I cut him off by finishing the Friedrich Nietzsche quote he was referring to.

“Well I’m so glad you asked Aurora…” He started as he pulled up a replay of Rick and I’s interaction with Birdperson after the Battle had been won. I watched the playback intently, hoping to see something within my own memory that maybe I hadn’t noticed before in order to try to put together a theory of where exactly Prime was going with this.

-Playback from ‘Aurora’s Memory’ initiated-

Memory Rick: “Damn that shit was cash.”

Bird Person: “It was extremely bad ass. The Battle of Blood Ridge is over. The Federation lost. I am in your debt.”

Memory Rick: “Come with us.”

Bird Person: “To somewhere…nearby?”

Memory Rick: “Anywhere. E-Everywhere.”

Bird Person: “Rick, Aurora, I don't expect you guys to keep fighting, but this war is…”

Aurora: “Far from over…we know.”

Memory Rick: “Dude, we share this with almost nobody, but we could take you right now to this same battlefield, in a universe where we lost, or another where we won, or another where the war never even happened. All equally real, all equally unreal. None of it matters.”

Bird Person: “Then why did you help?”

Memory Rick: “Because I respect you. And I wanted you to know you could respect me.”

Bird Person: “Even though nothing matters?”

Memory Rick: “Okay. You matter... to me.”

Bird Person: “Uh, the relationship that we have…”

Memory Rick: “I NEVER used that word!”

Bird Person: “... is not worth my integrity…”

Memory Rick: “Oh, my God. It's not a complicated transaction, my man. "Would you like to join me doing awesome shit that matters?" "No, I would not. I would rather be a judgmental dork." Case closed. Really no need to drag it out.”

Bird Person: “If you need me, use the beacon.”

Memory Rick: “Yeah, I'm gonna use that beacon a lot. I hope... hope I don't wear it out. Come on Aurora, lets get the fuck out of here.”

—- Playback Finalized —--

“Okay, so what exactly does my memory of Bird Person rejecting my Rick have anything to do with you?”

“Seems allegorical in relation to how Diane died don’t you think? His rejection of me, Bird Person’s rejection of him, you either die a hero or see yourself live long enough to become the villain.”

“Are you trying to suggest to me that my Rick has essentially turned into you? I hope you’re not because that would be absolutely nonsensical.”

“You see Aurora, your Rick isn’t all he’s cracked up to be either. He’s murdered hundreds if not thousands of innocent Ricks, he’s manipulated a version of our adult daughter to get a divorce, he sells weapons to hit men and other criminals, he Cronenberged my original dimension and left my daughter, my granddaughter and my Jerry behind to rot in a world that he ruined, he exploited and threatened to destroy a microverse that he created to control his fucking car, and the worst possible one he trapped all the people in his original reality into an endless mental time loop while their bodies still grew old. Your Rick isn’t and never was the saint you believe him to be - so why hate me for something so small in the grand scheme of things?”

“You’re literally the reason why he did most of that. I don’t think my Rick is a saint, I think he’s a sad, broken man who is trying his best to continue on in his life after losing the very thing he used to live for. What makes my Rick so different from you is his capability to feel and connect to human emotion - his wild callousness is just a front so he doesn’t have to feel the pain his life radiates. He has surpassed you in so many ways, but he will NEVER be the monster you are because he is capable of changing. You know nothing about him and even sitting here under the guise that you do is ridiculous. You will never be him and he will NEVER be you.”

“You’d defend him even if he was the one who killed your husband wouldn’t you?”

“My husband died because you killed Diane - because you accidentally created X-258 where my husband was killed in a freak fucking accident. To even insinuate such an asinine thought is in bad taste even for you. If anything, you’d be indirectly responsible for the death of my husband, big fucking shocker there.”

“How would your husband feel if he knew you gave up on him to be with Rick?”

“My husband has been gone for 25 years, Prime and I loved him dearly when he was alive, but Rick, my Rick, is the love of my life. I don’t have to explain ‘love’ to you especially because you are literally incapable of ever fucking getting it. Killing your wife across infinity because some alternate versions of yourself pissed you off? The mother of your daughter - you have some fucking nerve.”

I was angry now, my words slicing into Prime’s direction like a knife and he was clearly getting upset with my tone towards him. I don’t know exactly what his end goal with me was - he had my blood and tissue samples, he had my brain scans. Why not just let me go or kill me if he got what he had said he wanted? Then it hit me. Prime was in love with me. A man that I had labeled as so incapable of feeling had some sort of feelings for me - what a fucking mind fuck that was to take in. I had made myself speechless as I waited patiently for him to say something to either confirm or deny my theory, but he said nothing so I spoke once more.

“You love me, don’t you? You have feelings for me.”

His silence after I said that was deafening and he quickly stood up from his place in his chair to grab my face in his hands roughly and smash his lips to mine. I knew it. He kissed me so roughly that I barely even had time to react, but once I was finally able to comprehend what was happening, I deepened the kiss. I was actually enjoying this despite how fucking wrong my moral compass knew that it was. He pulled away from me gently, his blue eyes looking me dead in mine before he said in a very demanding, yet hot, tone;

“Strip for me.”

And I did exactly as I was told.

—----------

His hand bent around the curvature of my neck brushing it softly as he continued to walk around me٫ his other hand finding my breasts and taking a nipple into his free hand subtly. He rubbed the nub between his thumb and forefinger as he continued to eye me up and down with an obvious hunger in his eyes٫ his other hand snaking down my body slowly till it found rest on my hip gently pulling me to him as he did so.

“You are so beautiful.” He whispered٫ his eyes glued to my chest as he spoke eloquently.

He was still fully clothed٫ but I was determined to change that - I reached forward and begun unzipping his jacket٫ him allowing it to fall to the floor as I pushed it off his shoulders. I found the hem of his long sleeve next٫ my hands creeping slowly underneath to touch his warm skin and my god his skin felt like I was touching pure electricity the more my fingers danced over his adorable blue happy trail to find a home on his belt buckle. I began undoing it roughly٫ pulling his belt through the loops in his jeans and throwing it elsewhere. I unbuttoned his jeans with my hands٫ quickly slipping my fingers under the waistband of his boxers where I longed to have his dick pressed up against any part of me.

I smirked up at him as I pulled him even closer to my naked body٫ his hands wrapping around me in all the right ways as I felt his extremely hard member pressing into one my thighs now. The length and the girth simply drove me insane as I continued to work diligently to undress him. He suddenly grabbed the back of my head with enough force to crash my lips to his٫ our lips melding together perfectly and I couldn’t help٫ but let out a small moan in favor of his wicked foreplay. The more he touched and teased me٫ the more I desperately wanted to beg him to just destroy me right there. I was so fucked. Fucking Prime. What was I doing? At this point I was too far gone to care - I wanted him and I wanted him BAD.

I pushed his black jeans down past his jutted hip-bones٫ them falling down his tall stature to pool at his feet before he stepped out of them and led me back up against the wall. His fingers left my breasts٫ trailing down until they reached the very top of my mound - him allowing a single digit to pass between my folds to feel the abundance of wetness that I had increasing with each moment between my legs.

“So wet for me already٫ such a horny girl for any Rick aren’t you?” He licked his lips as he pulled away from mine to speak٫ him looking me dead in the eyes as he said that - the lust obvious in his gorgeous icy blue eyes.

“You have no idea how much I long for you to absolutely destroy me.” I whispered back٫ my fingers grappling the side of his boxers before pushing them off of him in one swift motion that now left him vulnerable and naked in front of me like I had been this entire time and ugh was it so worth the wait.

Prime had so many scars littering his whole body٫ adding a sense of mystery and a hot toughness to his already sexy body. I felt guilty that I was about to do this٫ but he was still a Rick whether he was evil or not and holy fuck did his extreme callousness and his “I don’t give a single fuck” attitude turn me on even more. I was like putty in Prime’s hands right now and he was loving it.

“I think I have a pretty good concept٫ but you have no idea how fucking gorgeous you are. If I could٫ I would put you on display so that everyone could see me destroy a perfect little pussy like yours. Holy fuck.”

“You want to fuck me in front of spectators?”

“I want them to revel in jealousy over how I get to be buried in a perfect little thing like you.”

“They should be jealous of me too٫ getting to be a good little cock sleeve for your perfect and massive cock. I love the way you feel pressed against my thigh right now٫ I almost can’t fucking take it.” I whispered in his ear٫ rolling my hips so that I brushed myself up against his rock hard penis - it almost jumping after me over the sudden sensation.

“Mmm what a good girl٫ stroking daddy Prime’s ego. I think it's high time I reward you for such good and filthy behavior.”

He grabbed me harshly by the hips and lifted me till I was straddling his waist with my back up against the wall as he placed himself at my entrance. He parted me gently with the head of his dick before slamming into me so aggressively that I cried out as I felt him ram into my cervix hard as he stroked my g-spot on the way there.

“Oh my god.” I panted٫ holding on to him with a death grip around his neck and my fingers tangling in his powder blue hair as he continued to thrust up into me skillfully.

“That’s right darling٫ I am your god.” He said٫ his lips attacking my neck and jawline with an abundance of sloppy kisses - him using his teeth to mark me however he wanted. The sweet feeling of the slight pain driving me crazy as I held onto him tighter - slowly rocking my hips in tandem with his getting a small moan from him in return as I bounced on his cock dexterously.

“It’s like universe literally created you just for me٫ the way your pussy just grips the absolute fuck out of my dick. Fuuck Aurora٫ no fucking wonder why “wife guy” is so obsessed with you٫ you take dick like a fucking champ.”

“It's not hard when Rick’s have such dynamite dick game - I’ve never ever been disappointed by a Rick sexually.” I purred٫ gripping tufts of his hair and pulling hard enough to hear him moan against my skin.

“Is that so, mmm you were so worth the wait.”

“I want you to come in me so hard that you see fucking stars, baby.” I growled in his ear as he continued to fuck me hard up against the wall, one of arms on the side of me bracing himself and his other hand was wrapped around my neck holding me to the wall tightly. I hadn’t noticed before now, but his ‘6,5” frame had me up in the air so high, holy shit - I felt like I was practically floating off of the ground at this moment. Damn the sex was good.

He soon moved his arm against the wall in order to place his long, lanky fingers on my clit, abusing the nub gently as he continued to go in and out of me. He was watching his dick as he pumped his hips, a smirk plastered on his handsome face as he was enjoying watching his dick disappear inside of me with each thrust. I was moaning loudly now, thankful that we were basically in the middle of nowhere in space because I could have probably awoken a whole cemetery.

“That’s it baby, come for me.”

I could feel that he was close and my eyesight was starting to get blurry the faster his fingers worked to bring me closer to my own climax.

“Oh my god - Prime - I’m - ahhhhhh Rick.” I moaned out as he pushed me over the edge, my pussy pulsating around his dick as he also released into me, burying his face into my shoulder as we rode out the highs of our climaxes together. Both of us sweaty messes as we tried diligently to try and catch our breaths from that absolutely intense workout we had just finished.

Fuck. I seriously just fucked Rick Prime. Fuck.

What had I done?

If you enjoyed this please give the full fan fiction a read - UPDATES EVERY WEEK - 💚

#rick sanchez #rick prime #rick sanchez fanfiction #rick sanchez fuckers #rick sanchez smut #rick prime smut #rick and morty #rick prime fan fiction #rick and morty smut #rick smut #rick sanchez fanfic #rick sanchez x self insert #rick sanchez x oc #rick sanchez x reader #rick sanchez imagine #imagine

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doonarose · 2 months

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Writers Guild Cock Fight: Four Speed Manual Transmission

CW/TW: Explicit, handjobs, public sex (but not caught/exhibitionism), a vaguely sentient Bentley, sex in the Bentley

Summary: The second coming thwarted, Crowley and Aziraphale head off in the Bentley towards the South Downs. But after six thousand years of waiting, and now suddenly not having to, Crowley can't stop looking at him. When he discovers he can touch Aziraphale as well, laying a testing hand against his thigh, it becomes inevitable that they don't quite make it all the way to the cottage before having to touch each other quite a lot more.

Written for the GOAD Smut War @goodomensafterdark

Thanks: Enormous thanks to the Good Omens After Dark Writer's Guild for cheerleading this! I have a lot on my plate at the moment and they have put up with me being insufferably annoying about it! Special thanks to u/Aidaran-ao3 for letting me barge into her post time and for a last-minute beta! Also to u/Blackjeans93 for britpicking! And to u/SouthernFriedAmy and u/KotiasCamorra for betaing bits of this as it was written!

Excerpt: “How far?” Aziraphale asks, looking deliberately away from the bookshop at Crowley.

“What?”

“Your cottage?”

Crowley stops himself from correcting Aziraphale by saying ‘Your cottage’, because that’s what it is.

“An hour, tops. It’ll be worth it, I promise.”

Aziraphale nods some more and lets Crowley’s hand drop. He moves off down the street, towards the passenger side of the Bentley. Crowley stalks along behind him, hands shoved deep in his snug pockets as he contemplates this new version of reality where they can be together, in a cottage, without any of the cares that have blighted them since the beginning of time.

When he looks up, Aziraphale has the small stack of books, bound by twine, in one hand, while his other hand rests on the passenger door handle, waiting for him expectantly. Surely the Bentley could let him in if she wanted to.

Prompted, the thought occurs to him, thrills him for its instantaneous possibility even more than the idea of the cottage and the new world order and them. “Would you,” he clears his throat and looks over the top of the car, “Perhaps, like to drive?”

“Really?” Aziraphale's eyes go wide but he doesn’t say no. “Why?”

Crowley tests the water. “Our car. Innit?”

Read the rest on AO3!!

#doonas fic #good omens fic #good omens smut #ineffable smut war

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penny-anna · 3 months

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while im talking about the Elagabalus thing, while i was refreshing my knowledge i ran into this little tidbit that i'd forgotten about!

SO the source for the oft-cited claim that Elagabalus wanted a vaginoplasty is Cassius Dio. If you look up Dio on the subject you might notice that the reference in question actually appears twice within a couple of paragraphs:

He carried his lewdness to such a point that he asked the physicians to contrive a woman's vagina in his body by means of an incision, promising them large sums for doing so.

& then shortly thereafter:

Avitus [Elagabalus], according to Dio, besought his physician to employ his skill to make him bisexual by means of an anterior incision.

(both excerpts from the Loeb Classical Library edition translated by Earnest Clary which you can read online (free & legal!) here.)

What's happening here is that, unfortunately, Dio's history of Rome doesn't actually exist anymore in its original form. The text as we have it is cobbled together from a number of summaries by later writers & some fragments. Occasionally we have different versions of the same passage that disagree as to what Dio actually said and translations opt to include both versions.* There's an introduction to the Loeb edition with more information that you can read here.**

in this instance it seems to me that there's a couple of possible explanations for the disagreement:

Dio just said that Elagabalus wanted a vagina and the author of the 2nd fragment assumed this meant 'as well as' rather than 'instead of' a penis.

Dio did say that Elagabalus wanted to be 'bisexual'*** and the author of the first fragment skipped over it; or

both authors are misrepresenting what Dio actually said.

There's 2 major takeaways from this IMO:

1: Not only do we not know for certain whether the claim that Elagabalus wanted a vagina is actually true, we don't even know what the primary source actually said about it.

2: the second variation on the claim implies that Elagabalus's end goal was to have both a penis & a vagina. this is, obviously, not very cisgender behaviour, but it also strikes me as potentially implying that Elagabalus might have been (in modern terminology) bigender or genderfluid. Which is, ofc, assuming that the claim has any truth to it, but if we're going to take it at face value then IMO we do need to acknowledge that it doesn't unambiguously indicate that Elagabalus was a binary trans woman.

Anyway I just think the discrepancy here is interesting on a couple of different levels and also serves to illustrate the difficulty of making any definitive claims on the subject!

*I did actually make an attempt to figure out where each bit comes from. The first variation is from the works of Zonarus who is one of our major sources on Dio. I can't figure out the citation on the second variation and, tbph, there's only so much research I'm willing to do for a tumblr post.

**If you've clicked the link and skimmed over it like 'wow this is really dry & tedious'. yeah. :(

***(I can't read Greek well enough to say what word is used here. The translation is from 1927 and is presumably using 'bisexual' as an outdated way of saying 'both sexes'. If anyone knows what the Greek text actually says please let me know, I'd be interested!)

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drak3n · 3 months

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THE NEMESIS

ꨄ. SYNOPSIS: love and hate are so close to each other for a reason.

ꨄ. CONTENT WARNINGS: slow burn, angst, hurt/comfort, friends to strangers to lovers, neglectful parents, love triangles, high school drama, fights, swift mention of a bloody & bruised nose, reader was a misunderstood bully, makeup sex, breeding kink, unprotected sex

ꨄ. SENA'S NOTE: sorry for my inactivity y'all, a lot has been happening lately. anyways, this is over 5k words long so enjoy!

bold italic quotes = letter excerpts

PROLOGUE. | SERIES MASTERLIST.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“it’s embarrassing to admit this, really. after all this time we’ve been apart from each other.”

atsumu and you didn’t always hate each other.

truthfully, you had started off getting along really well, even better than you’d gotten along with osamu. it was something no one could explain, until it all fell apart.

your story went all the way back to your second year of middle school, where the miyas had to move due to the twins’ mother having found a job on the other side of the prefecture. that meant the twins had to transfer schools as well.

it wasn’t like either of the two had difficulties at adapting to their new environments, given that they were quite popular because of their athleticism and their looks. even at their new school, their talent for volleyball made them climb up the ladder of fame in no time.

this is where you came in. a mean, popular girl who had no qualms about making other kids feel worse about themselves. everyone was careful not to cross paths with you or get on your bad side, afraid of your wrath.

the twins had been warned about your presence that lingered like a devil on the school grounds. “she hates boys who are loud and eccentric,” a classmate had told the two, and the younger twin shot a pointed look at the older, which made him glare back at him.

“the hell are ya starin’ at me for, samu!?”

“nothin’.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“you were the first person to approach me, although you knew what others thought of me. we were kids back then, but i haven’t forgotten.”

it was both a blessing and a curse to be avoided by everyone. you had your peace and no one was there to mess with you, but at times, it was really boring.

lunch breaks had to be the worst. if you ate your lunch at the hall, everyone would avoid you like the pest. you’d have a table that ten students could use, for yourself.

it was cold outside today, but you still sat on the bench in the yard, ignoring your growling stomach. your mother hadn’t been packing you lunch in a while, and you couldn’t find anything to shove into your bag last minute in the morning.

counting the coins you found in the pockets of your thin coat, you determined with a frown that it was nowhere near enough to buy even a cereal bar.

you could just bully some of the juniors into giving you money or their lunch. before you could stand up and march towards an innocent group of schoolkids playing tag on the other side of the yard, someone sat next to you.

your eyes narrowed at the sight of one of the new kids. you had no idea which of the two it was, given that you couldn’t distinguish a difference between them, and frankly, you didn’t really care. neither of the two shared a class with you anyway.

“hi, i’m atsumu, the older and cool twin!” he introduced himself, running a chubby hand through his thick, brown hair parted on the right. come to think of it, their hair was parted on different sides.

“whad’ya have for lunch? wanna swap? you can have my vegetables and cheese sandwich.” your eyes wandered down to the open box in his lap, filled with delicious bread and vegetables that made your mouth water. you haven’t even had breakfast this morning.

“why are you talking to me?” big, brown eyes widened at you dismissing him, when other girls would die for his attention. “i’ve already eaten.”

the loud growling of your stomach made you clutch your upper body, cheeks flaring in shame as the brunette grinned.

“liar! ya can have mine, y’know. here ya go.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“you were so obnoxious and insufferable to most, but i didn’t see that. i couldn’t care less about what you were like, when you were so nice to me.”

it hadn’t taken you too long to finally notice other differences between the twins. because sometimes when standing in front of either of them, you couldn’t quite tell if the part was on the left or right.

osamu’s eyes were a dark gray, while atsumu’s were brown, like molten chocolate. atsumu would always sound excited, his voice distinguishable from miles away, while osamu was more reserved and preferred calmness.

except for when the two were together, of course. atsumu was quite against introducing you to him, complaining to you that people always ended up liking his brother more, much to his chagrin.

but you were so alone all the time, so he dragged you along to watch him practice one day.

“hey… is that that girl?”

your body language was tense, the discomfort written all over your face as you gazed holes into the floors of the gym, where teammates of the twins were whispering among each other.

“i don’t think they want me here.” you didn’t look sad when you said it, nor did you look upset, it seemed like you’d already accepted it. atsumu had known you for weeks, and osamu had just met you, but it was the first time the two stepped up to defend someone instead of bickering at each other like they did all the time.

“hey, ya pricks! are ya not ashamed to be pickin’ on a girl?”

it had resulted in a fight, with the other members of the volleyball team complaining loudly about how atsumu was such a loudmouth despite being new, telling him to shut up.

it was the wrong timing perhaps, because punches started being thrown, but as you intervened and kicked the boys who dared to lay a hand on either of the twins, a feeling of fuzzy warmth spread inside of you as you could only think of the boy who shared his lunches with you.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“sometimes, i wish i could go back to relive those days. what i wouldn’t do to have you share one of your lunchboxes with me or have you include me in your life one more time.”

middle school seemed to pass in a blur, and you three graduated together, already knowing you’d be attending the same high school.

neither of you had the best grades or the best reputation, but at the end of the day, you happily held the certificates in your hands, having the twins’ parents snap photos of you three. one of those photos that had been taken that day, with atsumu and you shyly standing next to each other, would soon be framed and placed on your nightstand.

your parents didn’t attend. the sight of all students being hugged, kissed and celebrated by their families, while you were on your own chipped away at your heart.

“hey!” atsumu’s loud voice pulled you out of your train of thoughts, and he pointed at his parents looking through osamu’s report while smiling. “what’re ya bein’ so gloomy for? my parents are waitin’!”

with furrowed brows, you stared at the brunette, not quite understanding what he meant by that. you were going to head home, why would mr. and mrs. miya be waiting for you?

“we’re goin’ to this great barbecue place at the mall!” atsumu had told you about it before, the miyas had a tradition of going there for birthdays or other celebrations. it almost made you envious, because you didn’t have that.

“is that so?” you smiled at him, “have fun, tsumu. i’ll see you after the holidays.”

before you could turn around and leave, the boy tugged at your sleeve, pulling you back and towards his parents. you were stunned.

“i saved up all year to pay for yer meal! made my parents reserve an extra seat for you!”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“it all went to hell when my pride got in the way. when you started hanging out with that girl, and i felt threatened by her.”

it was in your second year of high school when things had started shifting between you two. you were more than used to the fans who went crazy for the two, which progressively started getting unbearable at some point.

flooded lockers with letters and chocolates they’d share with you, countless confessions you’d hear and see, and girls bombarding you with favors of getting them closer to either of the twins.

you could live with that. after all, they weren’t popular for no reason. they were handsome, very much so, and they were volleyball prodigies, scoring countless points for inarizaki at each game.

there was one girl who had gotten atsumu’s attention as much as he had gotten hers. they were in the same class, too. it was osamu who told you they had started hanging out when you were surprised about them going to get lunch together, with him nudging her side and making her chuckle.

you had woken up half an hour earlier just to prepare a lunchbox you could share with the blonde. but at the end of the day, you sullenly sat at the same table with osamu and the rest of the team, staring at the untouched food. the atmosphere was awkward, and the boys exchanged glances, clueless as to if they should speak up and ask you what’s wrong.

“that looks really good.” of course suna was the first to talk, narrow eyes peering over at your lunch. “why aren’t ya eatin’ it?”

aran shook his head at the middle blocker’s directness, and osamu frowned when you shoved the pink box towards suna, no more having an appetite after watching atsumu and that girl sitting together. “you can have it.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“jealousy is truly an ugly thing. so is love. it makes you do questionable things. but all i wanted was to protect you from heartbreak, even if it was at the expense of my own heart.”

the more time atsumu spent with her, the more worried you got. especially since there was some sort of sixth sense telling you that she was bad news.

you hated her for taking atsumu away from you, yes. but if she had been good for him, you would’ve accepted it, no matter how difficult. it was just that you knew she was no good.

“‘samu, i heard her talking to her girl friends in the dressing rooms after P.E.” you had bolted to osamu’s desk before the class would start, hair disheveled from the former class, and you were out of breath.

the younger miya quirked a thick brow at your words, “emma, you mean?” you nodded frantically, “she’s just using him for popularity. said she wants to dump him when he gets famous after high school, and she does too.”

osamu wasn’t really interested in entertaining any drama, especially when it came to his annoying brother. he could see how concerned you were for him though, and he couldn’t blame you for it. atsumu was very important to you, after all.

“are ya sure?” it wasn’t like he didn’t believe you. he just thought it might be a stretch. how was emma going to lead atsumu on for over a year, and how could she be so sure that he was going to be famous after high school?

“maybe she was just kiddin’. are ya sure you’re not just jealous?”

you were biting your lip, looking truly troubled. you did not want to ruin things, but you had to help atsumu get away from that bitch. you could not allow her to ruin him.

“‘samu, i—”

“atsumu is 17. neither of us should have t’tell him what to do. he has to learn himself.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“i had never planned on taking osamu’s advice from the second i heard it. in my mind, the only reasonable thing was to make her stay away from you.”

it was exactly a week later after gym class that you cornered the same girl against the lockers. no one else was around, and with a hand against her mouth, you made sure she didn’t call for any help.

“what are you—” a surprised squeal left her lips when you slammed her back against the locker one more time, to make her shut up. with wide eyes, she looked into yours that were void of any emotion.

she knew who you were. the twin’s childhood friend, atsumu’s close friend. too close for the brunette’s liking.

“listen,” you warned her, glowering at her like she was your worst enemy, “i know what you’re plannin’. i will tell you this this just this once: stay away from him.”

you thought it would have been enough to seperate those two, to keep atsumu safe. to have him back.

of course it wouldn’t be. you couldn’t have known. it wasn’t until the very next day that it all backfired. when you entered the school grounds in the morning, school bag thrown over your shoulder and lunch prepared in hopes of getting to spend time with atsumu today after a long time, you soon noticed that something was off.

everyone was staring at you, whispering and gossiping. it was an all-too familiar sight to you, it was nothing new. ignoring it all, you proceeded to your locker that was next to atsumu’s. just to be greeted by emma leaning against yours, arms crossed in front of her chest as she wore a hoodie you’d recognize anywhere. it belonged to atsumu.

“move,” you gritted your teeth as you forced your eyes away from the hoodie, ready to shove her aside. “or what?” she feigned a pout, kicking against the locker to get everyone’s attention on you two, her voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “gonna threaten and hurt me again to get what ya want? because you can’t handle that he never wanted you?”

everything around you got quiet, students looking at each other in disbelief, and your hands clenched into tight fists. still, you kept quiet, knowing it would be bad if you caved in first.

“oh wait, could it be?” she suddenly clapped her hands together, chuckling while you deadpanned at her, seemingly unaffected by her attitude, when in reality, you were boiling from the inside out. “did you really think he’d choose you over me? he would never stoop so low! in fact, he actually told me you were not—”

everything happened fast after that. she was on the floor before she could blink, screaming as your enraged self was on top of her, seeing red. it was when you were at the principal’s office with cotton up your bleeding and bruised nose, and the scratches on your cheeks from when emma’s friends had dragged you off of her, that you finally realized what you’d done.

it only filled you with regret when atsumu came to cradle a crying, hurt emma in his arms, yelling at you to never, ever look at either of the two again.

maybe you should have listened to osamu, after all.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“school after that was hell for me, understandably. i couldn’t blame anyone for not talking to me anymore, most of all, you. i didn’t have the right to be hurt by you taking emma to that barbecue place with your parents after high school graduation… but i cried a lot that day.”

osamu had tried to get atsumu to talk to you again. to not be so mad at you. but the blonde was blind to the eyes and deaf to whatever his brother would tell him, so he eventually gave up on that, too.

you were too prideful and hurt to approach atsumu either, pretending that you hated him for having done this to you. he was the cause that you were a loser again. that you lost the only people you had in your life.

couldn’t he just have treasured you more?

it was on the day of your high school graduation that you asked the younger twin to talk for just a minute. gray-haired boy looked down at you, round eyes blinking multiple times as you offered him a small smile.

“i just wanted to let you know that i’m moving to tokyo for college.” he just stared at you, knowing very damn well you weren’t in the mood to smile like you were doing right now. “i heard you’re opening a shop soon. maybe our paths will cross again one day.”

when osamu didn’t say anything, you took it as a hue to leave, again having neither of your parents to share your success of having graduated with you. you rummaged in your bag before you could leave though, holding a letter in your hand that your fingers were itching to hand to him. “can you just give this to—”

actually, no. it didn’t matter.

with glassy eyes, you dropped the envelope back into your bag, zipping it shut. “forget it. take care, ‘samu.”

you cried on your entire way home, until you went to sleep that night.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“i regret not having given osamu that letter to this day, even years later. i’ve just recently added these paragraphs, because i’ve made up my mind to make this letter reach you anyway.”

the volleyball match playing on the tv served as background noise while you went through the cleaned kitchen at the hotel restaurant you’d worked at. everyone else had left already, and all that was done was to check the inventory and make sure everything was where it should be.

while checking off certain tasks you had to make sure were done, you halfway listened to the interviews after the match was over. it hadn’t even dawned on you that it was his team that had played today.

“is there anything you want to tell your fans after the great victory today, miya-san?”

your entire body froze, pen dropping on the list as your tired eyes wandered to the television. he looked breathtaking as ever, even when he was covered in sweat.

“i wanna say somethin’ to a certain someone, actually.” his grin made your heart stop, baring his pearly whites as his voice was slightly hoarse from all the yelling on the court. “i’m sure she’s watchin’ this right now.”

the reporter looked at atsumu with a curious, bright smile as she waited for him to continue, microphone right below his panting mouth. “who’s the lucky woman?” she questioned, which made him beam at the cameras.

you didn’t feel addressed, too certain that he had another lover he wanted to say something to. about to turn the tv off and announce your work as done for the night, you were stopped when he opened his mouth again.

“my nemesis, you could say,” he took a deep breath after answering the shorter woman’s question, “i got your letter. you know where i’ll be!”

this couldn’t be a coincidence. you had missed today’s airing of TO ALL THE MEN YOU’VE LOVED BEFORE, and they had confirmed that atsumu had gotten the letter. it had to be you, there was no way he meant someone else.

after a quick research, you found out that the match was indeed aired live and had taken place in hyogo, where both of you had grown up in. where you had moved back to after college, because tokyo wasn’t your home, hyogo was.

you knew exactly which place atsumu hinted at, and like a flash, you passed by the hotel lobby to speed towards the location.

it hadn’t even taken you ten minutes to arrive at the school gates of inarizaki high school. it had been a stupid pinky promises between you two while you were still on talking term; to meet where things ended, shall they ever end.

standing at that spot made your gut churn with negative and positive feelings. things had ended indeed, heartbreakingly so. but perhaps this was a chance to make up again. to start from zero.

you waited for at least an hour, you were sure. time didn’t seem to pass like this, and the more you grew aware that it didn’t, the more agitated you became.

what if he didn’t show up?

what if he showed up, just to tell you to go fuck yourself?

“what am i even doing?” you laughed breathlessly, fiddling with the car keys in your pocket. you should just leave. this was absolutely stupid and delusional of you, to actually hope you were going to make up.

“hey.”

stopping in your tracks, you grew aware of the person dressed in black, standing in front of you. they were wearing a mask and had a hood over their head, and they could’ve just been a criminal about to rob you of your money, but you’d recognize those eyes and that voice from anywhere.

this time, you didn’t wait. you didn’t let your pride hold you back as you ran into his arms, dwarfed up by his massive body that had just gotten even bigger over the years. his arms caged you in his form, swallowing all your sobs and cries in his fluffy, black hoodie as he stood still, rubbing the back of your head in soothing circles.

he was there. atsumu actually came. he came to see you. he didn’t hate you anymore.

“i’m so sorry,” you cried for the fiftieth time in five minutes, barely able to pull away as snot and tears ran down your exhausted face. his heart broke at the sight, his own eyes blurring with a wave of tears. “i’m sorry for everything, ‘tsumu. please, please forgive—”

with gentle, warm hands placed on your damp cheeks, tracing over the scars that had been left on you from that fight, he shushed you. “it’s okay.” you hated the mask for muffling his beautiful voice, and you felt your heart crack when a tear slid down his eye, disappearing under the mask. “i’m the one who should be sorry. i was the worst to you. you didn’t deserve any of it.”

he started sniffling, and your mind went blank, eyes wide as you grabbed onto his hands, shaking him softly. “no, no,” you begged him, “i don’t want you to cry. please don’t cry. i made a mistake, i messed it up, not you!”

the setter found himself melting at your touches, letting you pull off his hood and pull down his mask to reveal his face under the night sky. his lips wobbled, nose and cheeks reddening as tears fell from his big, brown hues.

“i deserved your hatred, ‘tsumu.” your hands were cold on his skin as you wiped his tears the second you saw them. he shook his head, “don’t say that. how could i ever hate you?”

with your fingers interlaced, both of you still in a daze, squeezing each other’s hand so tightly to realize that this was real, you took him to your place. because neither of you wanted to let go.

atsumu could cry when he saw the picture of you two from your middle school graduation in one of your cupboards on the wall next to the tv in your living room. what did make him break down was seeing that one hairpin he’d gifted you on your 13th birthday right in front of the framed picture.

“‘samu never stopped talking about you and how sad you looked at our high school graduation.” his reddened eyes didn’t leave the picture even when you stood next to him, almost as if he was too ashamed to look at you. “i’m really sorry. i truly am.”

you smiled up at him nostalgically, like you’d always do back then. he caught it from his peripheral, and it made his heart skip a beat. “we were teenagers, ‘tsumu,” you assured him while your hand traced over his broad shoulders. “things happen. i think i had to lose you to grow up and realize things.”

his body finally turned to you to face you. his hair was a softer, lighter blonde now, nearly white. it looked fluffier, too. his cheekbones were more sculpted, and you could feel the slightest stubble on his chin.

no matter how many years would pass, you’d always be in love with each and every version of atsumu.

“realize what?” his features were soft, thick eyebrows raising in question while you looked away bashfully. you’d written it in the letter. he just wanted you to say it out loud, because he was dying to hear you say it.

“atsumu, i…” you started, playing with the collar of his hoodie. he stopped breathing. “i’ve been in love with you since forever. since the very first time you shared your lunch with me.”

the cat was out of the bag. you exhaled a shaky breath, and before you could muster up the courage to look back at the now professional athlete, he beat you to it. atsumu was always bold. he took what he wanted, with no shame. he made you realize this once again when he planted his lips on you immediately after tilting your face up.

one short kiss was enough for you to ask more. now that you had him in your arms again, you wanted all of him. you had waited so long for the impossible to happen. and now that you finally had it…

“‘tsumu. kiss me again, please.”

so he did. again and again. to show you how sorry he was, to show you that he hadn’t meant any of the crap he had pulled on you years ago. he was a dumb prick, and he won’t ever forgive himself for what he’d done. he had missed out on so much with you, and he saw that one more time when you were seated on his lap in the dim living room, hovering above him needily.

you were all he ever needed. it felt like now he had you back again, a gap had been filled inside of him. one that nothing and no one was able to fill. no one could ever replace you, no emma, no girl, no one.

every kiss and touch was followed by him muttering apologies into your skin, worshipping your skin like it was holy. handling you with utmost care like you were made out of porcelain. he watched you fall apart from him just fondling you through your clothes.

“p—please, i need—” you sucked in a breath when you felt his bulge pressing through his sweatpants, prodding at your slacks. “need you, please. want to be yours.”

atsumu hummed into your neck as his strong hands carefully took off your blouse, revealing your bra-clad chest. “y’look so sexy in these clothes,” he mumbled, admiring the sight of you shakily unbuttoning your pants. “wanna see you in them every day when you go to work and when you come home.”

you whined at his lowly spoken words, letting him help you take off your pants. your clammy hands tugged at his hoodie and sweatpants that were soon gone as well, pooling at the floor.

atsumu’s body looked absolutely gorgeous. the second it was revealed to you, you traced your fingers over every ridge and cranny of his arms and upper body, sucking marks on and kissing his supple, firm skin that was still so soft.

“baby,” atsumu huffed, feeling his cock twitching at every single movement of yours. you were driving him crazy. “lemme do the rest, kay? i want tonight t’be all about you.”

nodding softly, you waited with bated breath as atsumu unclasped your bra and let it thud to the floor, joining the rest of your clothes. the way he licked his lips and groaned made you soak through your panties. moans and whimpers freely spilled from your glossy mouth once he latched his soft lips onto one of the mounds, while his hand paid attention to the other, twirling your hardened nipple between warm fingers.

“perfect tits,” he panted into your chest, looking up to meet your gaze as he licked his wet lips. “yer perfect, darlin’. everything about you is.” stammering pleas for atsumu to continue while you ran your fingers through his soft strands, you shuddered upon his unoccupied hand wandering down your stomach, until it settled at the hem of your lace panties.

“want me to go on, baby?”

his eyes were blown wide in lust and desire, fingers digging into your skin enough to leave marks. you bit your lip, whimpering through your teeth as you nodded. “yes, please, atsumu...”

atsumu knew you were wet from how you’d soaked the front of his light gray boxers, but actually feeling how aroused you were made him utter curses. it was so much, and you produced even more slick with just a single touch. how fucking adorable.

“so, so wet,” he groaned as one of his fingers slipped inside your clenching hole so easily, “fuck, so tight n’ warm. yer gonna make me cum, princess. fuck…”

he couldn’t wait to feel you around his cock. couldn’t wait to be engulfed by your warmth, to feel all of you. with big, wide eyes, he watched as you came undone on his fingers in just a minute, clutching his bare, sculpted shoulders while you creamed on his long digits. it was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen, and he wanted more.

“‘tsumu—” your thighs were shaking, and you kissed his jaw sloppily. “wan’ me to suck you off?” you couldn’t be serious. atsumu was literally seconds from creaming in his boxers, and you offered a blowjob to him so sweetly? he had to physically keep you in place to stop your hips from moving.

“no, i wanna feel your pretty pussy ‘round my dick,” he panted, and you obediently reached your deft fingers to pull at the waistband of his boxers. despite both of you being very desperate and impatient, you still took the time to take off each other’s underwear.

it was the need to be connected without anything disrupting you, rather than to ravage each other. although you were aware that if atsumu wasn’t going to dick you down in this very moment, you were going to explode.

you saw a glimpse of atsumu’s girthy and gorgeous cock before it started disappearing inside of your awaiting cunt. his hands gripped your hips tightly, keeping you still, while you mewled and sighed into his neck.

“how d’ya feel, angel?” atsumu’s voice was serene, calm, as he enjoyed the warmth he was buried inside of to the hilt. he was never going to let you go again, ever. “f—feels… so full,” you whined, raising your head from his shoulder to look into his eyes. “y’re so big, ‘tsumu. so warm. love it.”

leaning back against the back of the couch, the blonde started a sensual and slow pace, and you felt so overwhelmed that you didn’t know any better than to kiss him. moving your hips back and forth with his hands guiding you, you swallowed each other’s moans of passion and love, tongues clashing and lips molding together and becoming one.

atsumu and you were made for each other. you were made to be with him. you were each other’s destiny.

“i love you,” you started crying when the sensation started building inside of your gut, threatening to snap. “love you s’much, ‘tsumu. i love you so much.” atsumu kissed your tears away, listening to you babbling confessions and apologies as you kept clenching around him as if you wanted him inside of you forever.

“i love you too,” he grunted, punctuating his words with harder and faster snaps of his hips against your heat. the sounds of squelches and moans echoed across your apartment that had been empty and devoid of life and love for years. “will never let you go again. i’m so sorry.”

atsumu knew he was nearing his release, and his eyes frantically looked for yours, sweat clinging to his forehead and body as his hair stuck to his face. you were cross-eyed, digging your nails into his shoulders as if you wanted him even closer.

“need t’cum inside of you, angel,” atsumu hissed the more you tightened around him, nearly trapping him inside of you. “can i fill you up? please, please…”

nodding mindlessly, you wrapped your arms around atsumu’s neck, working you both towards a release. you were the first to cave in, hips stilling as you let out a high-pitched moan while waves of white came crashing down.

with a slack jaw and eyes rolled back into his skull, atsumu started releasing spurts of his warm seed into your womb, cock twitching until his balls were empty while you relished in his warmth he had shared with you.

neither of you moved, not even minutes later, feeling like you have melted into one body. the silence in the apartment finally felt peaceful instead of haunting, the second pair of eyes in it filling you with a sense of home.

atsumu’s fingers combed through your damp hair while you laid your head on his built chest, listening to his calming heartbeat. it was a matter of time till this tranquil moment was going to vanish.

“i must say, thinking about you having fought for me is really hot—” you cut him off by pinching the tender skin on his chest, which made him yelp. “ow!”

“i hate you, atsumu.”

you knew damn well you didn’t.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

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