#last two totally was Not distracted by the thighs but. whatever. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ghostskiss · 7 months

Text

Late Night

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader WC: 3.2k Summary: A drunk late-night conversation takes a bit of a turn Warnings: 18+, Alcohol consumption, Oral (afab receiving), Fingering, Drunk/Buzzed Reader and Ghost, Service!Ghost, kind of a hint to a hand kink in this ?

Taking a swig from your flask, your eyes lock onto Ghost’s from across you. The two of you’d been lazily drinking together, late after a mission. It went well. It was supposed to be a celebration, not…whatever this was. Your cheeks are hot and heated from the alcohol and the question your lieutenant just asked. You’re trying to avoid answering him, but his heavy gaze says he’s not letting it go. You feel dizzy and turned on, pressing your thighs together to relieve the ache. The alcohol isn’t helping. Neither is his hard gaze, or the fact that his mask is pulled up. The edge of Ghost’s lips tip to a slow smirk. Like he knows. He knows.

Clearing your throat, you sit up a little further in the couch, trying not to squirm, but fail anyways. You pass the flask to him, his fingers brushing softly against yours. You pull back like it burned to feel him, your gaze sniping down to the hand gripping the bottle. You avert your eyes, feeling like you’ve been caught. His hands are bare, veiny, and large. They’re strong. You’ve felt them before, innocently of course. He’s placed one of those very hands on a shoulder, praising you after a job well done. You think about his hands on you. On your throat, between your –

“You’re really not going to answer me?”

You shiver. His voice has a husk to it, a gravel that makes you want to jump him. What the hell was in that booze? It feels hot in here, making you dab the back of your hand onto your forehead. Fuck, you’re nervous. Of course you’d be nervous, the topic you two had somehow landed on isn’t one that professional. Totally not professional. Not even a topic most friends get into. Wetting your lips, you watch your hands play with a pillow you’d put over your lap. You’re fidgety. Flighty.

“I… I don’t know. It’s embarrassing.” You deflect, ignoring the way your voice wobbles a bit at the end. You chance a look up Ghost, peeking at him through your lashes. His fingers are mindlessly trailing on the flask in his grip. Distracted at them, you stare, watching them. How’d they feel on your skin? Would he tease his own fingers on you like that?

“Mm. What’dya got to be embarrassed about? It’s not like it was your fault.” He shrugs, his voice jolting you out of your thoughts. You blush again, looking away from him.

“I don’t know.” You repeat yourself, brows furrowing, going back to the question he’d asked. Do you like being eaten out? You shudder, thinking back on the dark expression he gave you when you meekly shook your head. When you told him the last time you participated in it, the guy was so bad it turned you off of it forever. That you didn’t even want to bother with the act anymore, in case your partner was that bad again. Then he’d continued, barely blinking, keeping you captivated in his fiery gaze, What’s his name? When did this happen? Tell me more.

That’s when you stopped, that’s when you started thinking about him. Not the guy that’d ruined oral sex. No. Him. Well, that’s a bit of a lie. Sometimes your mind wandered. When he’d walk in front of you, letting you trail your eyes on the planes of his shoulders, his back, the way he walked. Or how his hands looked when he grabbed his gun, or worse, his knives. His jaw under his mask, or like right now, his lips showing you a teasing smile, or the muscle jumping in the jaw when you’d say something. Or when his dark eyes would catch yours.

You’re staring at him, you realize. And he’s staring right back, letting you drink your fill of him. You watch him bite back a smile when you come back from your Ghost dreamland. Sucking in a breath, you glance over your shoulder, to where the clock is hanging on the wall. It’s late. You’re sure everyone is asleep, just like you should be.

“Thinking of leaving to avoid me?”

Jumping, you turn back around, noticing he moved closer while your attention was elsewhere. Fuck. You shouldn’t have drunk that much. You’re not too drunk, but you’re definitely not sober. You watch with wide eyes as Ghost settles himself on the couch next to you. He gets comfortable, like it isn’t making your heart leap out of your chest, his arm coming up behind you, resting on the back of the couch. Blinking slowly, like you’re trying to sober yourself, you turn a bit toward him.

“It’s late.” You say, ignoring his question again, “And we’ve been drinking. I – I don’t think we should be talking about this.”

He tilts his head as he watches you, being quiet for a moment. The silence makes you realize how slick you feel. How heated your skin is. How you’re this close to tugging him on top of you and begging him to fuck you. You try not to shiver under his stare.

“No? You’re the one who started this conversation. What was that question you asked me earlier?” The corner of his mouth lifts into a smirk, the sight going to be burned into your brain for the rest of your life, you’re sure. “What was it?” His voice drops and he leans forward to you a bit, “‘What’s your favorite position?’”

You choke a bit, astonished that you’d even asked him that. You wave him away, brushing it off like you aren’t seconds from rushing to your room and taking care of this ache you have. He’s right, you’d started it. But it was because…well, you’re not sure. You think you wanted to make him feel as unsettled as he makes you. He’s so stoic and unfeeling, you wanted to catch him. You wanted to trip him up. Instead, he’s got you squirming. He’s got you flustered, almost panting.

“That was earlier,” you say, a bit breathless with proximity of his presence. “I’m tired now.”

This, Ghost lets out a chuckle at. “Right. Well, I’m wide awake.” The hand on the back of the couch reaches up to brush lazily at your shoulder. His fingers pinch a lock of your hair and tug gently before he pushes your hair from your neck. You’re still. So still and hardly breathing. Like you’re worried any movement will make him stop.

“I think I could change your…aversion.” Ghost says so quietly, so darkly, that you barely hear him.

Your breath catches in your throat, unable to take your eyes off of his. Did you hear him right?

“My aversion?”

“Mm yeah. You know.” He shrugs like you’re not talking about…like he’s seriously not thinking about— “I’d make you come on my mouth. On my tongue. I bet you’d make a real mess too. I can make it good for you.”

Your lips part in surprise, eyes widening, shock spreading on your features. He almost laughs, biting his lower lip to stop himself from smiling at you. Your hands are fisting the pillow on your lap, a flush is traveling up your chest to your cheeks, pupils blown, legs pressing tightly together. You look good. He knows without a doubt he could make it good for you. Maybe even get you addicted to the feel of his mouth. He knows without a doubt he’d be addicted to the feel of you.

“R-right now?” You sputter, hands tightening on the pillow.

His fingers brush against your neck, making you shudder, eye lids drooping a bit with pleasure. Sensitive already.

“Unless you’re tired like you said.”

Shaking your head quickly, you start to say no, no you were lying of course, but Ghost is already standing up from the couch. He gently grabs the pillow from your death grip, settling it behind your back. His gaze is heated as he stares down at you. “Lift up your hips.”

You lift your hips, his hands scooping under you to pull your pants off. You squeak in surprise a bit, earning an amused noise from the man above you. He leaves your panties on, enjoying the way you immediately close your legs to hide the sight from him. He doesn’t mention it until he’s on his knees, tugging your body to the edge of couch. He grips your thighs, making him groan with the feel of you finally in his hands. His hands press up the back of your thighs, making them press into your chest. Your breath hitches, as you realize how exposed to him you are, underwear molding to your wet cunt.

“Hands here.” He grabs your hands and places them on the back of your knees, keeping your legs in the position he put them in. “Keep them there.” He looks up at you, confirming you heard him. You nod, biting your lip to keep yourself from protesting. You hold your legs to your chest the way he wants. Your hips jolt up at the feel of his thumb running up your clothed slit.

“Easy. Ya sensitive, love?” Ghost drawls out as his thumb swipes down, notching against your soaked entrance. A whine catches in the back of your throat as you nod up at him.

He likes you like this. You’re always put together, not letting anything ever get to you. He’s not sure if the alcohol has gotten to you like it’s gotten to him, but he likes it. Your cheeks have a flush, you’re almost shivering under his stare, chest raising in a shaky breath, lips parting in a slight pant. Fuck. You look so good. He’s lucky. He’s so lucky that you’re letting him do this, and he almost wants to thank you. His jaw ticks as he sets it, his heart rate picking up. Not only has he got you like this; he’s got you wet. When did that happen? When the two of you were talking about how he liked to fuck? He’s lucky you couldn’t tell how badly he wanted to take his hard aching dick out and make you suck on it on front of him when you asked him that question. Lucky you couldn’t tell how eager he was to talk about the topic –the positions— he’s wanted you in. Fantasized about you being in. He wets his lips, watching your reactions as his thumb presses a bit harder, running up to press against your clothed clit.

“Y’gotta tell me if I’m too rough, or if you want me to stop.” Ghost’s words come out a bit rushed, like he’s trying to warn you. His chin dips to catch your distracted daze, his thumb stopping the teasing movement that’s got you in a different place. You blink, looking up at him and nod again. He shakes his head with a tsk, “Tell me.”

“’Kay.” You breathe out, hips tilting up, trying to get him to move his thumb again.

A groan slips from him. You’re grinding on him. You’re that desperate. He curses the dumbass that didn’t take care of you, but he’s also thanking him. Thanking him for this moment, for ruining something that he’s going to make so good for you. He dips his mouth to your thighs, running kisses down them. His thumb still teasing your soaked cunt, running up and down in a leisured pace. You’re already trembling, he doubts he has to keep you on edge for long, but he wants this to last. He doesn’t know how many hours are left until sunrise, until this little piece of heaven you’re giving him will be over with.

Your fingers clench around the hold you have on the back of your knees. The light scruff of Ghost’s face pairs well with his hot mouth. A whimper slips from you, your head tipping back a bit at the feel of it. He’s driving you insane, his thumb pressing against you, teasing your clit just enough to make you whine. His mouth trails a flaming path to your soaked pussy. Your head snaps down to watch. His eyes are already on yours as his mouth falls open, his tongue coming out to lick flatly up against your sex. He makes a punched-out noise as he tastes you, your hands leaving the hold of your legs, grabbing onto sides of his masked head. Your breath has hitched into high whine. His hands come up to keep your legs open the way he wants them, pinning you down to the couch. Suddenly, he’s sucking the fabric of your panties, sucking the wetness that’s saturated the fabric.

You taste good. Ghost’s jaw aches like he’s sucking on something sweet, drinking down the slick that your underwear has collected for him. He struggles to keep his eyes open, half-lidded, as he watches you. Yeah. You looked as fucked out as he feels, his cock straining painfully against the fabric of his jeans. He has half the mind to reach down and fuck his hand as he gives you pleasure. The thought makes him groan against your sex, and fuck, you liked that. He needs to taste you correctly. He reluctantly pulls back from you, fingers rushing to your hips to rid you of the barrier from his mouth. He lets the soaked piece of clothing fall to the floor as he comes back to sit on his heels, taking in the sight of you. You blush at his attention, legs about to try and close again. He shakes his head with a soft sound.

“Show me. Show me how wet you are for me.” His hand comes to the front of his pants, squeezing his cock that’s bulging. He groans at the contact, watching with a dark look on his face as you spread your pussy between your fingers. Fuck.

“Fuck, baby,” he lets out a breathless laugh like he can’t believe it, “you’re soaked.”

He’s right. Now that there’s no fabric to catch your wetness, it’s leaking down your entrance to the couch beneath you. He sucks a breath in through his clenched teeth. This entire night is going to haunt him for the rest of his life. The taste of you is going to be something he won’t be able to get enough of.

He moves forward, dropping down to be level to your sopping aching cunt. He doesn’t wait. He doesn’t tease. He collects saliva to the front of his mouth and spits slowly onto your clit. The motion makes you moan lowly as you try to stay still for him. You feel like your body is on fire, the anticipation as you feel cool wetness of his spit gather with your own wetness, the way his hands tense against the flesh of your thighs as he keeps you right where he wants you – everything is consuming you in ways you didn’t think was possible. It’s never felt like this. Never felt this good. You’re trembling when Ghost closes the distance, his tongue licking a long stripe from your clenching core to your clit. You let out a pained noise, not that it hurt, but because it felt so good. You’re not sure you’re all the way here in this moment, his tongue taking you to a place you’ve never been before.

Ghost is in his own mind similar to the way you are. The pleasure is mind numbing, just having you under him. Having your soaked pussy spread open for him, his tongue licking, teasing, moving up and down, side to side, anything that’ll get you to squirm and choke on air. He’s attentive, he’s making sure anything he’s doing to you is giving him a noise that makes his cock twitch with need. The way he’s eating you is sloppy, he’s getting his face wet with you, licking and sucking, humming even. His tongue dips into your hole, fucking into you before coming back out to lap up at your clit. He’s not gentle. Doesn’t want to be. He wants to see your tits bounce with the way he’s devouring you. Even under your shirt. His tongue rasps over your swollen clit and you gasp, back bowing for him. He huffs a breathless laugh against your sex and delivers a hum through you, letting it vibrate against your aching flesh.

“Si—” You choke out.

The broken moan on his name makes him feel insane. He wants to hear it again. Needs to hear it again. He’s drooling for it, his lids barely open as he watches you cry out for him again. He feels your cunt clench and he groans, latching his mouth around your clit to suck. Sucks hard with his tongue coming out to flick the needy little bud. You’re bucking now, like you’re not sure if you’re trying to get away from the pressure, heart rate skyrocketing. You hear yourself chant and moan pleasepleasepleaseplease. But you’re not entirely in your body, you’re hovering above awareness, mind in a haze.

That’s how you cum. And you cum hard. You’re vaguely aware of Ghost moaning against your sex as you gush on his tongue as he laps it up. You’re not aware of the way you shriek, the way your nails dig into Ghost’s neck, scratching and holding him there as your hips falter.

Ghost’s been watching you this whole time. He’s not missing it for anything. He doesn’t care how badly he wants to pull his throbbing cock out and cum with you. He cares about how your moans sound, what you look like when you cum. How you taste. The way you blink down at him, eyes watery, mind not completely there. The sharp breaths you’re taking. Your fucking nails burning and dragging into his skin. Yeah. Mark him up. He eases his sucking on your clit, making sure he doesn’t overstimulate you and works on cleaning you up. He’s drinking down your sweetness, swearing that there’s no way you could pull him away from this pussy. From worshipping you. He wants to make you cum again. He needs it.

“Simon,” you breath out. The way you say his name makes him tremble with need. It’s soft, it’s trusting. It’s just for him. His eyes drift closed like he’s in heaven. “Si,” you start again, trying to get his attention. Your hands wander from their grip on his neck to his jaw. Finally, he looks back up at you, but keeps languorously licking your fluttering entrance. You have his attention but that doesn’t mean he’ll stop.

“Can you make me come again?” You ask, simpering little thing.

Ghost groans his approval of your question against you, fingers coming up to get them wet with you. He pulls a bit back, still hovering close over your pussy so you can feel the air of his words against your clit as his fingers dip into you.

“Thought you’d never ask.” He smiles darkly as you cry out when his thick fingers get knuckle deep. “Take your shirt off this time.”

#IN HONOR OF COD MWIII #A NEW PIECE #this is totally *not* a self insert...no...i definitely did not have an experience similar to the Reader and now have an aversion to oral #LISTEN. SIMON MF GHOST RILEY WOULD EAT THE PUNNANY LIKE BREAKFAST LUNCH DINNA DESSERT #THE SIDE DISHES #ETC.#AND HE WOULD LIIIIIKE IT. IN FACT HE'D LOVE IT. YOU WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO PULL HIM AWAY #and he'd be PHENOMENAL AT IT DON'T @ ME!!!!!#you can @ me. i'll gladly argue my point #simon ghost riley #cod mwii #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley #cod mwiii

49 notes · View notes

storyofmychoices · 10 months

Text

Shadows and Deception: Parts VII & VIII

[Series Masterlist] [My Choices Masterlists]

Books: The Royal Romance (post-TRF), Crimes of Passion I, Desire & Decorum, Blades of Light and Shadow I

Characters: Trystan Thorne (M, no race mentioned), Marguerite Thorne, Olivia Nevrakis, Queen Amalas, Maxwell Beaumont, Daniel, King Liam (no race mentioned), Tyril Starfury, Nia Ellarious, Prince Hamid

Pairings: Olivia Nevrakis x Queen Amalas ; M!Trystan Thorne x (no gender given) MC (mentioned) ; King Liam x Riley (mentioned)

Rating/Warnings: Teen, mentions of blood, stab wound, knives/daggers (no graphic descriptions)

Word Count: Part VII: ~400; Part VI: ~1,500 : total ~1,900

Summary: Olivia makes it her mission to figure out who is trying to frame her and why, but what she finds isn't what she ever expected.

Catch Up: [Parts I and II] [Parts III and IV] [Parts V and VI]

These are the last two sections of the story. You should only read the "reveal" if you're caught up! I hope you enjoy the ending of this little mystery.

VII. When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. (Sherlock Holmes)

Despite the evidence against Olivia, the King released her from custody, trusting his friend would not be so careless as to leave her own knife lying around as evidence of her wrongdoing.

Adrenaline filled Olivia as she returned to the ballroom, her mind racing with theories and suspicions. Stares fell upon her, filled with curiosity and uncertainty, yet she wouldn’t let them deter her from finding answers for herself.

Ever the stealthy observer, she listened discreetly to hushed conversations, her keen ears capturing every piece of information that floated in the air. Some clues she already knew, like the red hair and her dagger, but others were new and intriguing, like whispers of coded letters and sightings of a cloaked female figure.

Amalas slipped through the crowd with ease, making no waves as she passed, her focus entirely on her Duchess. "I see you've managed to evade their grasp," she teased, her voice filled with amusement.

Olivia's lips curled into a mischievous grin. "You know me, always one step ahead."

Amalas leaned in, her voice low and intimate. "It's good to see you enjoying yourself," she whispered, her fingers lightly caressing Olivia's cheek.

A flicker of amusement danced in Olivia's eyes. "I must confess this party has become far more interesting than I expected. The year has been too quiet. I've missed the exhilaration of murder, treason, and deception that have come to be a staple of these gatherings."

"Why am I not surprised?" Amalas chuckled softly in admiration. She leaned in closer, brushing a kiss on Olivia's jaw as she whispered, "Perhaps we can make this night even more memorable." Her hand slid down Olivia's form, settling on her thigh as her teeth grazed the tender skin beneath her ear. "What do you say?"

As Amalas's words hung in the air, Olivia's thoughts were momentarily distracted by the events of the evening. Her calculating gaze shifted between Nia and Marguerite, contemplating their possible involvement. While pointing the finger at both was easy, she couldn't reconcile how either could have lifted her dagger without her notice. Nia wouldn't stand a chance even with magic, and while clever and cunning, Marguerite couldn't best Olivia. There was only one who stood a chance at that—

Olivia's gaze fell to her thigh, where Amalas's hand had been resting naturally above her collection of ornate daggers, Olivia not even giving it consideration until now.

VIII. It is not the past that matters, but the future. (Poirot)

As realization flashed across Olivia's face, Amalas knew it was time. The ruse was over. She swiftly withdrew her hand, but not quick enough to evade Olivia's hawk-like precision as another dagger found its place against Amalas's neck.

The Spy Queen smiled in amusement at Olivia's discovery. "I knew you'd figure it out. Only you could."

"Why?" Olivia questioned, her voice filled with both curiosity and vengeance.

Amalas's fingers reached into her purse, her movements deliberate. "To keep you distracted so you wouldn’t figure out what comes next," she explained, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "And, I know you appreciate a good murder."

The tension in the room grew palpable as Olivia processed Amalas's words. Her dagger trained against the Queen's neck never wavered. "You killed Daniel? Why?"

"Oh, no." Amalas shook her head lightly. Her gaze drifted to the back of the ballroom, where she discreetly signaled someone. "You can call it a charade."

Confusion washed over Olivia as Maxwell called out to her, his expression filled with pride and excitement.

He waved and smiled, his double thumbs-up a triumphant gesture. Standing beside him, far more alive than the last time she had seen him was Daniel. "I told Amalas I could trick you," Maxwell announced, pumping his fist in the air and dancing to celebrate his win.

"I had my reservations about his involvement, but he was very excited… and quite persistent, so I let him assist in my plot," she insisted.

Olivia's mind raced as she pieced together the puzzle before her. How could they make a fool of her? And who else was in on this ruse? Not the guard; they were too inept to even handle a fake murder.

Clues and revelations swirled in her thoughts, forming a coherent picture of the events that had unfolded. The tense exchange between Maxwell and Daniel in an area sure to be overheard was the opening act, setting the stage for deception. Her mind flashed back to a particularly heated moment between her and Amala in the hall outside the ballroom just before the start of the event, their passionate embrace enough of a distraction for Amalas to lift her dagger without her questioning the placement of her hand.

Her eyes widened as she continued to connect the dots: an evident stab wound and a pool of blood, but neither could explain his apparent lifeless form. And then it hit her—the syringe. It must have contained a substance to slow Daniel's heart and breathing, making him appear dead at first glance. But the blood—it still didn't make sense. She knew real blood when she saw it!

Her jaw dropped slightly, her gaze settling on a certain Lord still celebrating his victory—Maxwell! She remembered an earlier quip she had directed his way, ‘I didn't know you were auditioning for the next Twilight movie. You've nailed the pale aesthetic. I'm sure you'd enjoy the glitter, but I don't think vampires dance.’ She shook her head remembering the interaction; there was a bandage on his arm. If it wasn't for her absolute fury at his participation in this deception, she would almost be impressed at his dedication to the game. Giving his own blood showed real commitment. Olivia's mind spun with the intricacies of the scheme, leaving her reeling as she processed the depths of deception that had taken place right under her nose.

Olivia took a step toward Maxwell, vengeance filling her gaze. "That was your blood?" she questioned, her voice dripping with accusation.

"Yup," he announced proudly, relishing in his deceit.

She tightened her grip on her dagger, a scowl filling her face. "Since you're in such a giving mood, perhaps you'd like to donate more?"

"If looks could kill—" he jested, a hint of hesitation creeping into his body as he took a step backward.

"Oh, I promise it's more than looks," she sneered in amusement.

"Time to go, Max," Daniel intervened, pulling his friend's arm.

"She wouldn't…" Max offered, analyzing her face with a mix of uncertainty and concern. "...would she?"

"Let's find out," Olivia teased, her eyes fixed on him as she stalked forward. Much of the ballroom that had been listening in turned away themselves, hoping to avoid the Duchess's wrath.

"Yup, okay, time to go!" Maxwell conceded.

She would deal with him later, but for now, there was a much worse betrayal to confront.

Her gaze flickered back to Amalas's hand, still concealed in her purse. "What else are you hiding?"

"The reason for all of this." She took a step closer to Olivia, despite her raised weapon. "You have captured my heart in ways I never considered possible. I can't imagine a path without you by my side. No secret or knowledge is as important and valuable to me as you." Amalas's usual confident voice faltered with a hint of nervousness. "Olivia Nevrakis, will you marry me?"

A storm of conflicting emotions washed over Olivia as she locked eyes with Amalas, her mind still reeling from the revelations of the night. The chaos and deception had led them to this pivotal moment.

Sensing her hesitance, Amalas continued, "I couldn't have you figure out my intentions, so I needed you distracted. You're too clever for your own good, my love."

"You never cease to amaze me," Olivia marveled at how Amalas was able to orchestrate the night's events, leading here with her none the wiser. Olivia's gaze narrowed on hers. "I could have killed you."

"I would have loved to see you try." Amalas nodded to the knife still in her hand. "You're welcome to make the first move... unless you prefer to wait until we're behind closed doors."

"This is the weirdest proposal I've ever seen," Trystan whispered to Marguerite, unable to turn away.

"Don't get any ideas," his sister replied. "Rose won't find you as amusing."

"Are you sure?" His charming grin filled his face.

"Yes," she nodded firmly.

"But—"

"No."

"It could be fun."

"It could lead to another international incident!" Marguerite reminded him.

"What would life be without a headline or two?"

"You're lucky I like you!"

"You love me!" Trystan wrapped his arm around his baby sister, his attention turning back to the happy couple, who were now settled in a passionate embrace, the ring happily settled on Olivia's finger.

"You'll come up with something entirely your own," Marguerite decided, her head tipping to the side in consideration. "Unless of course… Rose proposes first."

The proposal. His mouth opened as realization set in. His face contorted in dismay. “Wait, so the key, the locker, the notes, my whole investigation was for nothing?"

"Perhaps they deemed you a worthy adversary, one who might've detected the deception too soon, and so they gave you your own little distraction."

Trystan let out a dramatic sigh. “I can’t believe I’ve been played,” his chagrin evident in his tone. "I was a pawn? I'm at least a knight," he sulked.

Marguerite smiled at his disappointment. “It seems your detective skills failed to notice the biggest mystery of all—love.”

After a moment of feeling sorry for himself, he straightened his jacket. “Well, at least, I wasn’t alone. No one else figured it out either.”

“That’s not quite true,” Marguerite teased, a satisfied smirk filling her face.

“You did not see this coming!” He vehemently protested.

“I had my suspicions that more was at play than met the eye,” she reported. “Amalas seemed distracted, her focus on Olivia, even though there was no way Olivia would be so sloppy or that Amalas would suspect her. Then, there was her clutch; she kept it close like it held all her most precious secrets.”

“That’s it?”

“Well, there was that look too—”

“What look?”

“The one you wear so well—” she began, her voice filled with awe. “The pure admiration and adoration for the one you love and couldn’t spend a day without.” She pressed a kiss on his cheek, her words quieting. “It’s how I know your appreciation of this proposal isn't just in good fun and how I know you already have a ring of your own waiting for the perfect moment.”

Before Trystan could respond, Marguerite slipped off into the once more lively crowd. She checked the time on her phone and headed to meet her contact with whom she'd exchange the flash drive she'd been concealing for secrets in an entirely different matter with everyone none the wiser.

The ballroom buzzed with a combination of awe, amusement, and adoration as the guests realized they had been unwitting participants in a grand charade leading into a moment they would never forget, the engagement of The Duchess of Lythikos and The Queen of Monterisso—a union that promised to be an adventure that surpassed even the captivating events of this extraordinary evening.

The mystery of love is greater than the mystery of death. (Oscar Wilde)

Hi! If you made it this far, thank you so so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this mystery and the twist ending. I know not everyone likes twists, but I hope I did this one justice. This was not the ending I had intended but as I happened to write it, I couldn't see it ending any other way. Olivia deserves someone who would go to the ends of the earth for her and isn't afraid to push her. I hope I did her and Amalas justice... especially since I've never actually met Amalas in canon... This fic was never supposed to be this TRR series heavy but here we are.... I hope I did everyone justice.

I do feel for Maxwell, while Olivia can forgive Amalas, she might take some pent up frustration out on him in the near future. He better watch out!

Thank you again for reading and supporting this story. ❤️❤️❤️

Giveaway Information: complete details here

3 winners will be chose for minimalist portraits with @bayleedrawsx

Any one who comments on or reblogs with a comment with their theories, thoughts, ideas, ect. on any and all sections of the story will be entered in the giveaway. (1 entry per section)

Prompts: For @choicesbookclub COP ; @choicesmonthlychallenge Private Investigator Event

Special thanks: to JenBeaumontJones (IG) for beta reading

#playchoices #choices game #the royal romance #blades of light and shadow #crimes of passion #desire & decorum #choices fan fiction #tyril starfury #trystan thorne #marguerite thorne #nia ellarious #maxwell beaumont #olivia nevrakis #queen amalas #prince hamid #lovealexhunt #choices book club

32 notes · View notes

toomuchracket · 1 year

Note

POV of being the friend sat up with Ross by Matty’s fiancée??

oh god this is so cute. like actually. ok so say you're over at your best friend's house just drinking wine and chatting shit before dinner (she and matty have invited you over to ask you to be her maid of honour at the wedding but you have no idea 😭😭) and you've mentioned before that you like running into ross at parties, and you know you're developing a crush on him but it's whatever, you've got it under control. that is, until matty comes in from band rehearsal and gives you a hello hug and then says "oh, ross says hi, by the way. told him you were coming over" and you go bright red. and matty says to his gf "oh my god you were not kidding. all i did was mention him!" and she's like "she's down bad for him. it's crazy" and you're fighting to defend yourself (although it's true) like "i'm not! i'm just touched that he would tell you specifically to say hi to me! that's all". and your friend is like "bullshit you literally told me you would marry him and have his kids and move to a farm with him the last time we got drunk" and matty's like "oh my god. valid though" and you're literally on the verge of tears from cringing (you're a bit tipsy) and they're both like "why are you crying? he fancies you too. it's fine". and you stop crying immediately and you're like "...what" and matty's like "the last time ross got drunk he literally could not stop talking about how beautiful you are and kept asking me if you were seeing anyone". and you're like "WHAT" and your best friend says "see? it's fate. and you'll have plenty of opportunities to get in with him because you'll be the only two single people at the meal tasting for the wedding. by the way, you're my maid of honour. love you bitch". and you start crying again because of, well, both of those things, and run round to hug them both. and while you're sobbing into someone's t-shirt, matty's like "babe i think you might have given her too much info at once there" and you're like "no it's fine i'll be fine i just need another drink" and you all laugh and it's sweet.

then on the day of the meal tasting, you're shitting it. you've changed outfits like three times before you find one you think is alright, and you're making your way round the corner to get picked up from matty's when you see ross like coming along from the opposite direction and you're like oh fuck oh shit. and ross just beams when he sees you and like waits at the front gate for you to catch up and says "hi! you look great, love, how are you?" and your insides just liquify at the compliment. and you reply "thanks, darling, you look lovely. s'nice to see you" and when you reach ross he gives you a little hug and the two of you wait outside for someone to hear the doorbell. and it's matty who answers and his eyes go wide and he says "what is happening here did you guys come together?" and you're about to say no but ross goes "and what if we did?" all fake-defensive and winks at you and matty retaliates like "well it would be lovely because you're both lovely people and it would be lovely for you to spend time together. anyway come in". and everyone else has a similar reaction - surprised but pleased- to you and ross showing up together, and ross just leans down to say "matty's right though. it would be lovely if we spent more time together. i'd like that" in your ear before being shouted over by adam for something. and you're just standing there in total shock heart fluttering a bit. and you end up sitting next to him in the car there and it's HELL - ross is right next to you, your thighs are touching and you desperately just want him to put a hand on yours, and he smells intoxicatingly amazing. but he's so lovely! he asks you about your life and what you've been up to and it's just so easy to talk to him - that is, once you figure out how to not get distracted looking in his eyes. and the whole day is like that, the two of you chatting shit amongst all these couples, getting progressively more intimate and vulnerable with each other the more food and wine you consume. at one point, you notice everyone else has stopped talking and they're all watching you and ross, smiling smugly (your bff and matty especially), and you're like "um hi". and carly just happily blurts out "you guys look good together. like, really good. your kids would be so-" and adam gently lifts her wine glass from her and cuts her off like "maybe too soon, babe?" and you all laugh and the conversations resume. you can feel yourself blushing, and when you turn back to ross you see he is too. but he doesn't look or seem freaked out by carly's comment - in fact, he almost seems to dial up the charm a little, putting his arm round the back of your chair, whispering jokes in your ear, all that. and at the end of the day, when the two of you are walking to the car to go home, ross stops and takes your hands in his and says "you've got my number, right?" and you're like "yeah" and he smiles and says "good, because i'd quite like it if you called me at some point so we could go out, just the two of us". and you just beam at him and say "i will. i'd love that" and ross takes your hands and kisses the backs of them and you just MELT. and you're feeling a bit bold and say "you know, we could just go out for a drink when we get back into london, there's a nice bar near my flat" and ross blushes and says "let's do it. i don't want to say goodbye to you just yet today" and he just looks so cute that you can't help but say "would it be too forward of me to ask you to kiss me right now?" and ross bites his lip then says "maybe, but i've wanted to do it all day" and grabs your face and kisses you sweetly, to the sounds of your bff and matty cheering from the car lol <3

#mads muses #mads answers asks #ross asks #fluff asks

52 notes · View notes

yourfifitherealone · 2 years

Text

(I'll Always Love You, No Matter What pt3 Finale) I'm Sorry About The Truth

In the morning you threw up in the trashcan near your bed, you had placed it there after too many "morning surprises" and having to clean up the aftermath. You felt a certain weight holding you down from getting up off the bed or even fully turning to throw up almost making you miss the trash. You peered at your lap then seeing Izuku's green poofy hair and relaxed sleeping face. He's lying on his back arms are crossed over his chest probably because of the lack of blanket on him. You grabbed the other corner of the blanket and wrapped him up in it like he was in a sleeping bag and went into the bathroom.

"Good morning, Darlin' " Midoriya groans with tiredness in his eyes and his body language. "Did you sleep in my room all night?" You said avoiding his nicknames. "Mhm I thought about it, and I wanted to sleep with the baby, so I went back in your room for the night." "1. Yeah you TOTALLY wanted to sleep with the BABY yeah just the baby and 2. I need to start locking my door." He laughs, "Okay MAYBE I wanted to sleep with both of you and if you did lock your door, it'd just make it harder for you in the morning, Dear I really don't recommend tha-" just then Midoriya's phone started ringing. "Oh um..." He looked at the phone and it was his boss, Tomura Shigarki...

"Oh ha! It's Shiggy I gotta take this brb" he said walking off into the living room, "-Hey- yeah why you calling so early?" Then he started pacing around the house on the phone like always. While he was distracted, you made your favorite cereal and went back into the room. You remembered, when you two were still together he always walked around when he was on the phone. He would go upstairs then downstairs then on the lawn then in the backyard and sometimes and somehow (If the convo lasted that long) he'd be in the garage. You always thought it was funny how he'd end up in random places, you'd laugh and make jokes about it. And said things like if he keeps walking around, he'd end up in the shower with a shower cap on. You turned on your smart TV and started watching Netflix Arcane because why not.

Mid-episode, Midoriya walked in and declared, "I know you don't NECESSARILY LIKE it buuuuut-" he tried to soften the blow, "I have to work" He finished. You looked drily as you took another bite of your cereal with a quick hand movement to move from the TV screen. He sighed with a chuckle and kissed your cheek, "your so adorable!" Even when you try to act like you have him he has rocks for brains... "K bye," you reply. Izuku blows a kiss at you and of course one for the baby then closes the door and leaves. You sink deep into the mattress and drown in thick and thin blankets. You decided, you were gonna tell him.

You felt guilty and wanted to fix it but you had contradicting thought, 'What if he had a bad day today?' but you were still gonna go through with it, for both of your sakes.

"Honey, I'm home!" Izuku cackled while unlocking the door. While stuffing his lockpick in his pocket he lays down at your legs onto the couch. "How was your day, Deku?" He gasps, "Your calling me, Deku? Well considering that your calling me nicknames now, I'm amazing, Hun" "Good I have something hella important to tell you." You announced. "Hella important?" "Hella."

"Well I'm hoping it's something good about the baby or your proposing but what is it? What's troubling your mind?" He ask rubbing up and down on your leg and thigh. "I..." You trailed off.

He tilts his head and stops his hand, "Hey, it's okay" "It's not your gonna kill me" you sighed and covered your face with your hands. "I would never if anything i WILL kill whatever or whoever is bothering you. I LOVE you, not a lot will change that. Now tell me what's going on."

"Well I so the baby is like 1000% yours and I lied because I thought you were gonna leave well me and I just wanted you to stay so bad so I thought I'd have a better chance of just lying and I'm sorry I'm so sorry. When I see what it did to you I...I'm just so sorry and if i would've told you the truth right then you would've like left. I am so selfish and I'm sorry. And when you didn't leave I kept trying to push you away but here your are just supporting me and everything and I know and totally understand you want to definitely leave now and that's okay but I couldn't let you think for any longer I did that to you and that I didn't care."

Izuku looked puzzled and looked down as he made circles into your thigh with his index finger. "Well that was a lot, right?" Izuku laughed. "I can't laugh right now I feel terrible" "okay okay. I appreciate your honesty SO much and I still love you regardless. Don't stress the baby" he winked and laid on your lap.

"I don't now if I can even say this but...I..love you?"

"I love you too and little Jr."

#Yandere Deku #Yandere Izuku x reader #yandere Midoriya x reader #Yandere Deku x reader #MHA #MY hero academia #Villain Midoriya #Villain Izuku #Bhna Boku no hero academia #Mha fanfic #Bhna fanfiction #finale #last part #last part series

37 notes · View notes

slvt4tristan · 2 years

Text

game night thrills

pairing: tristan dugray x fem!reader

genre: smut, fluff

description: your boyfriend, tristan, is the captain of chilton’s soccer team, and you know how much it means for him to win their championship game. you even made the time to come and cheer for him yourself. however, the way tristan looks in his uniform is too distracting for you to think about anything else.

warnings: 16+ only, smut, thigh riding, slightly insecure reader, use of “daddy”, slight degradation (?), dirty talk, a few pet names

notes: just me thirsting over thigh riding with tristan <3 it’s my first time writing so sorry if it’s bad!!

“So, did you see me nail that last goal?” Tristan beams as he bounds towards you.

He wraps you into a tight hug, and you reciprocate, not even caring how sweaty he is. In fact, he smells good, like freshly cut grass and mint. Shit, you shouldn’t be thinking about this right now. You should be congratulating him. Why is it that he made you this needy all the time?

"It was amazing watching you, Tris. You really have no idea how proud I am.”

“Yeah?” Tristan asks, raising his eyebrow, “Well, just know it was all for you then.” His lips twist into a trademark smirk.

You gulp at the way his blue eyes pierce yours as he teases you. It’s almost like he’s doing it on purpose. You quickly shake yourself out of it, and slip your hand into his as you both head towards his locker room. His teammates have all packed up and left by now, leaving you two all alone. Just the thought makes you blush even more.

“Hey, Tris, just know that you don’t have to hang out with me now. I know all the guys are getting together for pizza or whatever, so I totally understand if you want to catch up with them.”

He frowns slightly.

“No, Y/N, I want to stay with you.” His intense gaze is starting to make you nervous.

“Oh, well, thanks,” You chuckle awkwardly.

“Thank you for showing up here. I know you have a lot of school work, and it means a lot to me that you made time.”

Fuck, why was he always this sweet with you? Each day with the blonde made you fall harder.

“It’s no problem, really. I actually really liked watching you play.” Maybe a little too much, you thought to yourself.

“Oh yeah?” There that cocky smirk was again. “What specifically did you like about it?”

“Well, I really liked the way you looked as you slammed the ball into the goal,” You gazed coyly at him.

He finished unlacing his shoes and stood.

“What about that makes you entertained?”

“I can’t stop thinking about the way your thighs flex as your shorts ride up, Tris.”

You take in his flustered expression. Shit, was that too far? He was probably tired right now. Maybe he wasn’t in the mood to mess around. Maybe he didn’t like the way you looked tonight, you had gone more casual.

“Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

Tristan cut you off by grabbing you waist with both hands and pulling you into a searing kiss. As his hot, skilled tongue worked against yours, you couldn’t help but let out a small moan. You felt him smirking into the kiss. Fuck, how was he making you wet already? He sat the both of you down on a bench, guiding you onto his lap. You couldn’t stop yourself from grinding sensually against his bulge, desperate for friction against your throbbing clit. Tristan’s small, suppressed moans were music to your ears. He even sounded pretty. Finally, the two of you reluctantly pulled away to come up for air. His lips were shiny with your combined spit, cheeks a gorgeous rosy red, and eyes shining with victory and lust.

“You have no idea how much you’re turning me on right now, Tris. We should go back to your place right now before it’s too late.”

“We could do that, Y/N.” He smiled, with an expression on his face almost like he was toying with you. “Or I could sit here in my uniform and watch you fuck yourself on my thigh, since you seem to like them so much? Huh, would you like that? Your needy pussy sliding up and down my toned muscles until you cum?”

Your mouth gaped open, your eyes wide. You looked like a deer in the headlights. Honestly, it was shocking how flustered your boyfriend still made you after over a year of dating.

“Use your words for me, baby. Which one is it?”

“I wanna stay here and do all those things you said.” You whimpered out. Tristan clicked his tongue disappointedly.

“Love, you’re gonna have to do a little better than that. Tell me exactly what you want.” You bit your lip nervously.

“I-I love the way your thighs look so much that I want to rub my needy pussy all over you until they make me cum!” His gaze darkened.

“That’s what I like to hear darling. I’m all yours,” He whispered the last part in your ear, his hot breath sending shivers straight to your core.

You hands shook ever so slightly from the intensity of the situation as you slid the fabric of Tristan’s shorts even higher up his legs. Fuck, did you love this sight. Your smoking hot boyfriend, hair disheveled, leaning back in his sexy uniform, extra toned thighs on full display. You felt like the luckiest girl in the world, and you were ready to show him just how worked up and horny he could make you.

“May I do the honors?” He asked in a sultry voice, fingers looping around the hem of your skirt. You nodded enthusiastically, and he slowly discarded the fabric. His eyes widened when he was met face to face with your lacy green undies.

“Fuck, what a little slut for me. You planned this all along, didn’t you?”

“Just always ready for you,” you teased back.

“Shit, you know just what I like to hear,” He groaned, sliding your panties down your legs and throwing them somewhere on the floor to be picked up later.

“Look how wet you are.”

“Tris, don’t, that’s embarrassing…” You blushed.

“I think that’s pretty fucking hot. I love it when you get this horny,” He reassured you, sliding two fingers through your folds and pulling them out dripping with your arousal.

“Only you get me like this, Tris,” You moaned as the rough pad of his finger brushed against your clit.

“See how much I like this?” He asked, sliding his sopping fingers into his mouth and licking them clean.

“You’re such a tease.” You giggled.

“You love it,” He quipped back, “Speaking of things you love, looking for a seat?” He asked confidently, gesturing towards his right thigh.

“Don’t mind if I do.”

You slowly lowered your dripping heat onto Tristan’s leg, your hands finding purchase on his equally toned biceps. As your pussy met his bare skin, you couldn’t stifle a whimper. Why did this feel so good? Was this a new kink of yours, or was it just him driving you wild with desire? Either way, all you knew now were the waves of pleasure radiating through you as your pussy lips spread fully over his muscles, your sensitive clit now rubbing against him. You humped him desperately, feeling that delicious friction against your bundle of nerves. You didn’t care how pathetic it looked, fucking against his leg like a dog in heat, because you could tell he was turned on too just by his feedback.

“Oh fuck, Y/N, look at you. Making a sticky mess all over me. Shit, do you know how hard I am right now?”

Not only did his words push you closer to your climax, but his actions did too. He began spreading hot, wet kisses across your neck, traveling down to your collarbone, sucking little hickies everywhere he went. His warm tongue was rubbing against you at the same pace you clit was against his thigh. You felt like you had died and gone to heaven.

“I want everyone to see these marks I’m making, and know I’m the only one who makes you feel this good.”

“Fuck! Yes, daddy! You’re the only guy in the whole world who can get me off like this!”

“Daddy?” He whispered into your ear.

You slowed your movements down. Shit, did he think that was weird? It was just a spur of the moment thing, you didn’t mean to-

“Fuck, say that again, baby,” He groaned.

You felt relieved, and even more so when his hands found your hips and began guiding you against his leg. He was pushing you to hump against him even quicker now. He flexed hard for you, allowing your clit to explore all the bumps and ridges of his toned muscles. Quickly, you felt your orgasm building up.

“Gonna cum all over you, daddy!”

“Go ahead, babydoll, squirt all over daddy’s thigh on his big game night.”

You felt the knot in your stomach unraveling, and your vision went blurry. You threw your head back, and Tristan brought two fingers down to slowly rub your clit to help you ride out your long, hard orgasm. When it was finally over, you collapsed onto Tristan’s frame and he wrapped his arms around your back. The air was filled with the sweet and sticky smell of sex and your arousal. Your boyfriend rubbed circles on your back.

“Was it okay, babe?” He ventured to ask.

“Was it okay? It was way more than okay. It was…amazing. I mean, you’re amazing. Fuck, I’m gushing too much right now but I just think I’m so lucky to have you. Not just because of the sex, I mean, the sex is mind blowing, but what I’m trying to say is thank you. Thank you for giving me this, and giving me all of you. I don’t understand how I ever deserve it all.”

He pulled back from your hug and gave you a peck on your forehead. So much love and admiration shone in his eyes.

“Trust me, you do deserve me. And, hey, you’re not the only one who enjoyed what happened just now.”

“Shit, but you didn’t cum.” You grew concerned, what were you thinking leaving your loving boyfriend dry while you shamelessly got off by using him?

“Uh, about that…” He said sheepishly, glancing down at his shorts.

You gasped, looking down at the utterly cum-soaked fabric.

“What can I say, your thighs really turn me on too. Especially when they’re straddled around me." He smirked, teasing you again.

“Tristan!” You yelled at him for his cockiness, and fell back into his warm arms.

It was safe to say you two both found something more satisfying than just Tristan’s win that night.

2K notes · View notes

dadsbongos · 2 years

Text

peak romance

Warnings: none? Summary: You and Yuji have a late night chat to distract him from his late-night thoughts :) Word Count: 1.4 K ~~~

It’s late when you’re shaken awake. The movements are gentle and the hands are soft, but even so, and despite loving your boyfriend you cannot deny the huff that leaves you at having been woken up so deep into the night. You sit up and glance at the alarm clock Yuji keeps on his bedside table,

“Does that say it’s one in the morning?”

“1:07, yeah,” he’s sitting on the edge of the mattress, his phone shut off but still tight in his grasp. Yuji reaches up and scratches the side of his head, eyes bouncing from you to his phone, “So… I had to shit, right?”

“Riveting,” you attempt to rub the lingering exhaustion from your eyes.

“Well, just listen. So, I was there and I was checking my phone ‘cuz I’m not a lunatic who shits without their phone - and then I… I saw it,” Yuji swipes up to unlock his phone, then shows you the screen. The brightness, despite already being relatively low, burns at your eyes.

Squinting, you lean forward, “Damn, unlucky. Now your chances with her are totally zero.”

Jennifer Lawrence is confirmed to be pregnant. Good for her.

When Yuji can only silently shut off his phone and place it on your nightstand, you continue, “Wanna talk about it? I’m sure that was such disastrous news.”

“No, it’s just… weird,” he shrugs, lying back over your lap, “For some reason it feels weird. Like, I get that she’s a person, it isn’t that she’s gonna be a mom or whatever but it just made me think about fatherhood.”

“You just graduated high school like last year.”

“But still,” he turns his head, and through the darkness you can just make out the furrow in his brows, “I don’t think I want to be a dad.”

“Do you wanna talk about that?”

Yuji had severe baby fever at times. And he enjoyed babysitting. From what you knew about him, you’d been under the impression he wanted children, but perhaps that’s unfair to him. To assume that because he’s good with kids he wants to raise his own.

“Not really, just odd in here,” he brings a hand over to pat at the spot on his chest right over his heart, “to come to terms with that. ‘Cuz it isn’t like I don’t like kids, I just don’t think I’m responsible enough to raise them. How am I supposed to say no to ice cream for dinner when there’s no downsides to it? I’m not fake like that.”

“I get that,” you reach out and lay a hand over Yuji’s forehead, then brush your fingers through his hair, “You’re good with Tiffany Maxwell, so that’s good enough.”

“Tiffany Maxwell, my angel cat,” he chuckles, “I had to scold her again - on not chewing wires… even used the royal ‘we’ so she’d think I have a wire-chewing problem too and wouldn’t be embarrassed.”

“As you should,” your stare goes to the ceiling, “She is so spoiled. I love her.”

“I know, right?” he’d dragged out the ‘o’, turning his head to his cheek presses to your thigh, “She has her own Disney+ account to watch cartoons on.”

“We’re such good cat parents, Yuji.”

“Literally, yeah.”

It’s quiet. Your eyes close and you can nearly feel yourself dipping into slumber when Yuji speaks once again,

“Do you remember that guy you dated who just wanted to initiate you into his cult?”

“Shut up - that was before we even met! Why do you even remember that?”

“I think it’s just really funny,” as if to add to his point, there’s barely muffled laughter, “Your exes kinda suck, you really lucked out with me to be honest.”

“Man,” you huff, “enough of this. You dated a girl who posted a picture with the caption ‘I know you think of me when you kiss her’, petty as fuck.”

“Okay, okay - but which one of us tried to ‘suggest baby names’” he shook his head as he enacted heavy air quotes, “just to see if the guy would react to the name of a girl he cheated with.”

“First of all, I was the victim- “

“Never said you weren’t.”

“Second of all, I saw him sweat at the name Taki.”

“And that one guy who managed to kill your pothos plant in like two days.”

“Don’t even.”

“I won’t, I won’t,” he kisses the skin of your thigh, “You’re so lucky to have me, babe, it’s crazy.”

“I dunno, man, you still put on chapstick like a fucking baby using a crayon for the first time,” he groans, tossing his head back as you giggle, “Just - fuckin’ - relax your lips! Literally, just relax your lips. It’s not hard.”

“It’s so hard,” he denies, shaking his head, “Impossible, even.”

A hush - a comfortable one - falls over you two briefly as you card your fingers through the mess of hair atop Yuji’s head.

“I used to get told that school wasn’t a beauty salon by teachers when I’d put on chapstick.”

If you didn’t know Yuji better, you’d think that the momentary quiet was him having fallen asleep. But then, you hear it - a snort, followed by his laughter, “You’re joking! No way. No chance.”

“Yeah, it was awful - and then I got to Jujutsu Tech and Gojo would do his entire skin care routine in the middle of an assignment presentation.”

“Say what you want about Gojo but out of all the men, he wasn’t the worst.”

“Ah, right, right. He never used someone’s weight as a comeback in an argument.”

Yuji grins, “Back when you guys were supposed to think I was dead, he would make sure you, Fushiguro, and Kugisaki were asleep so I could check on you guys.”

Your fingers pause running through his hair, “Really?”

“Yeah,” your movements resume and Yuji reaches out to take your free hand in his, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles, “I just needed to see you guys sometimes. It was hard pretending to be dead.”

“Aw, poor baby,” you lean down and kiss his forehead, “At least you’re not dead anymore.”

“Yeah, that’d suck. I think I’d hate being dead. No Tiffany Maxwell and no you, that sounds awful.”

“Aww, you’re adorable. My scrimblo.”

“Okay, enough of that,” Yuji sits up and moves to sit beside you on the bed before taking your hand in his once again, “Terrible.”

“When you actually die - like years in the future - you should eat a shitload of aromatic herbs and spices before, so that when you’re cremated everyone gets hungry.”

“Oh my God,” he turns and cups your cheek with his hand, “Your mind, it’s so big and juicy, I wanna kiss on it.”

“Thank you,” you lay your hand over his and turn it up to kiss his palm, “So romantic.”

“Speaking of romantic, do you wanna hear a pickup line I’ve been working on?”

“Of course.”

“Okay, okay, okay,” he releases your hands and sits up on his knees to face you, face falling into stone cold seriousness, “Are you from Mississippi?” when you only tilt your head, he goes on, “‘Cuz you’re the only Miss whose piss I sippy.”

“Ew!” you turn to your phone and take it, holding it up as if to summon the obnoxious AI helper trapped inside, “Google, how do you undo something another person said?”

“No,” he whines despite his own giggling, “You tell me one. C’mon, I wanna hear it.”

“Alright,” you close your eyes, “I’ll get the best one I can think of. Okay, is your partner an organ donor?” you lean closer and whisper to him with a smile, “Say ‘no’.”

He nods, grinning, as he answers, “No.”

You scoff, “Then how’re they gonna give you their heart?”

“Good one, good one,” he murmurs, “Alright - do you like pudding?”

“Huh?”

“Because,” he points at you, with a stupidly large smile that tells you exactly what he’s about to say, “I think you’ll enjoy puddin’ deez nuts in your mouth.”

“I’m breaking up with you,” you pinch his side, “How could you?”

“I’m too funny, I know,” he raises his hands up in mock surrender. Then, he drops the laughter, he tilts his head and scratches at the back of his neck, dodging your stare as he says, “I love you. Like a lot. Like if you wanted flowers, I’d build a garden.”

“Okay, you’re forgiven for the deez nuts joke,” you gently take Yuji by the shoulders and pull him forward until his head is resting on your chest, “I love you, too.”

You can feel the exhaustion pull at your eyes as they flutter shut, your careful hold on Yuji slowly weakens as sleep crawls over you.

And just as you think Yuji’s forgotten his turmoil and passed out as he usually does, you hear him quietly mumble, “Do you think anyone’s invented a virgin edible?”

“Bitch, that’s just food.”

“Oh, shit.”

#jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #yuji itadori x you #yuji itadori x y/n #yuji itadori x reader #yuji x reader #itadori x you #itadori x reader #itadori x y/n #yuji itadori x reader fluff #fluff

268 notes · View notes

sukirichi · 3 years

Text

like crashing waves

Love comes to you like waves crashing upon one another.

REQUEST. mutual pining au + best friends to lovers + breeding kink

CONTENT/WARNINGS. beach sex, unprotected sex, fingering, titty sucking, smut, nanami being a sweetheart <3 + the mandatory unedited note!

NOTES. thank you for requesting and joining the milestone event! I hope you like this <3

Your squeals echo as you run out of the car, arms flinging behind you with your best friend, Nanami, trailing behind you. His brows furrow upon seeing the familiar scenery of a light ultramarine sky, the sound of crashing waves calming upon his senses. His gaze falls on your waving form, figure jumping from the sand as you call out to him. Your smile is a lot brighter than the sun right behind you, and captivated, he follows your motions, his hands falling into the spaces between yours before allowing you to tug him closer to the beach.

“You brought me here,” he announces a little dazed, subconsciously gripping your hand tighter. “You remembered.”

“Of course I did!”

This isn’t just some regular beach. This is the place where the two of you first met when you were both little, awkward stubby legs running around the sand and scooping sand castles. As always, Nanami’s been more of a timid child, frowning at how you splashed on the water, uninterested with simpler tasks like the one he’s busy with.

When you see him silently enjoying himself, you trudge up to him. His hands immediately come up to protect his castle, having had his other friend Satoru kick and destroy them one too many times.

He’s surprised when you only gasp in awe, carrying your own plastic shovel and helping him build a bigger one afterwards. Your connection was natural – instantaneous.

Everything goes downhill from there. Despite living in another town, your family kept close contact, leading to you enrolling into Nanami’s middle school and staying solid all the way until he has to go attend Jujutsu High. He’s made it clear that he wishes to not be too attached to anyone or even get a wife, firm in his belief that he doesn’t want to hurt anyone by leaving a loved one behind. You, though? He makes an exception for you.

You’re his best friend and everything more, the one who pulled him away from being a salary man and telling him he could be capable of doing something wore instead of just fattening his bosses up while he does all the hard and honest work.

Nanami isn’t...cynical, per se, but he has a painfully honest outlook in his life while you’re more of the type to enjoy the little things, claiming that it’s never a sin to be happy despite the darkness looming. He’s been so used to you being a lot brighter and more cheerful than him, total opposites, really, that when the tables have turned and you’re the one holding his face as you scold him to save people and be the hero he is, he can’t really find it in himself to refuse.

Until now, he’s surprised you’re taking his profession extremely well. You never once blinked when he told you about his abilities and even takes away a fly head off your shoulder once, jumping in his arms instead to thank him.

He wonders how he ever came lucky enough to find someone like you, one that he actually cherishes more than he values the rules he’s set to keep himself in line.

Nanami doesn’t get the chance to think any more when you start stripping in front of him, your bubbling laughter syncing perfectly with the lapping of waves when you fling your clothes at him. He regrets ever letting you meet Gojo; you’re naughty, but never this pressing. His glare is half hearted as you run straight to the beach, however, and the blond man sighs.

His birthday was planned perfectly down to a tee. He’ll invite you over to celebrate, spend the silence and read books with you, have coffee, cuddle, and call it a day.

You had other plans in mind the moment you barged into his room though, dragging and pushing your friend all the way inside your car. His queries are silenced by the blasting radio, the man leaning back in his seat as his fingers tap against his thigh, wondering what you had in mind. There’s never really any telling with you and your spontaneous habits, so he just closes his eyes, allowing his blond hair to be swept away by the wind.

The last thing his wildest dreams could ever imagine is you taking him right back where everything started, his hands deft and careful as he unbuckles his belt. His cheeks tints a little because you never gave him the chance to pack, save for you throwing in hoodies and random underwear into a duffel bag.

Nanami folds both your clothes on the sand, shivering a bit from the chilly liquid. He glares at you once more with a tired sigh, about to ask how you have so much energy after driving for four hours straight when you splash water on him.

He is silent in comparison to your mocking laughter, waddling all around him until you’re whisking the water at every direction of his body.

Nanami stands there still like a statue, eyes closed to prevent the saltwater from hurting him, his hair sticking to his skin. His muscles are tense the whole while, preventing himself from just reaching over – not yet, anyway – for you were still too far away. But your guard is lowered, forgetting for a moment that your best friend is a jujutsu sorcerer and he’s spent years honing his senses until he’s mastered them to the extremity of his capabilities.

As your laughter grows closer, the splashing turning harder as it pads against his skin, Nanami opens his eyes and grabs you by your wrist hard.

You let out an ‘oop’ when he effortlessly pulls you into his chest, your forehead knocking against the solid muscles of his chest. “Ow!” you rub your forehead, lips formed into a pout and about to complain when your eyes snap wide open, the first thing in sight his pecs. Clearing your throat, you try to push yourself off him, suddenly completely aware of his warmth and his other hand sliding down your hip, lower, lower, and lower. “Nanami—”

“Having fun?”

His voice is low, a tinge of warning behind his words. Guiltily, you glance down at your wrist wrapped around his large, bony hand, noting the size and strength difference between the both of you.

You don’t want him to see you’re flustered – even if it’s painfully obvious already – so you snicker up at him, tilting your jaw upwards until he’s looking down straight at you. Nanami cocks an eyebrow in challenge, awaiting what snarky response would leave your lips when you smirk, using your free arm to splash on him one more time.

Nanami reels back when the water shoots straight in his eyes. Okay, you have to admit that maybe that was a little mean, but you’re having so much –

You’re immediately hoisted up into his arms, the water sliding off your body and the ground slipping off your feet. Panic rises in your system when you’re lifted off the seafloor, hands desperate and slippery as you cling onto his broad shoulders. “N-Nanami!” you protest, clinging to him like a koala when he only smirks, walking farther until he’s reached a spot he knows you can’t reach. “Hey, that’s cheating, put me down this instant!”

“Do you really want me to do that?”

Nanami knows you’ve surrendered to loss when you huff, leaving you with no choice but to wrap your legs around him tighter, nails subconsciously gliding down his back. He stiffens at your movements, brows furrowed as he ponders if bringing you here and rendering you helpless really is the best idea.

You’re pressed so close to him until space becomes nothing but a myth, your breathy intake of air wafting into his ear like bait. Nanami tightens his hold on your grip a bit, his swallowing audible at the feeling of your breasts pushed and flicking against his chest.

Fuck, of course you’re wearing your best bikini.

Nanami tries to push those lewd thoughts at the back of his head, drilling into his mind that you’re his best friend and you’re untouchable. He opts to stare beyond the horizon instead, train of thought too distracted of not letting himself be distracted by you that he doesn’t notice you pulling away to look at him.

He’s brought back to life when your wet palm caresses his cheek, thumbs smoothed over his cheeks. Nanami’s gaze flickers back to you, a sigh on his lips as he presses closer, daunting enough to leave a kiss on the crook of your palm.

That snaps something inside you.

You take his breath away – literally – as you cup his cheeks with both his hands, panting as you dove straight to his lips. Nanami’s reaction comes like reflex, both hands cupped under your ass as he meets your kiss with the same hunger and longing that has always been blossoming between the both of you the moment you both knew what love meant like.

Nanami’s groans are masculine and low when you begin to grind down on him, teasing as you push your breasts harder against his chest. Your nipples are hard enough that he feels the pebbled buds grazing across his chest, the sensation sending blood rushing to his cock.

He pulls away, cock swelling harder when he sees you all breathless with lips bruised. There’s something about knowing he’s the cause of you nearly falling apart like this, his mind wandering off a dangerous path at the fantasy of what you’d look like if he does something more.

The voice at the back of his head is responsible to keep him in his reigns, something he’s more than thankful of; otherwise he’ll completely ravage you senselessly at this moment.

“Do you really want our first time together to be out here in the open?” he rasps with short, quick pecks while you whine in his arms, the desire for that something more an aching and almost painful image on your face. “Won’t you like it more if we’re behind closed doors...” he brushes a thumb on your lip, coaxing your lips to part for him obediently. Nanami clenches his jaw when you eagerly suck at his thumb, your eyes dark and hazy with lust as you swirl your tongue around his digits. “...and I’d get to do whatever I want with you?”

“Are you going to hold back if we’re here?” you tease, popping his thumb off with a loud and wet pop. “It’s kind of romantic, don’t you think? The sun is setting behind us and it’s just the two of us anyway,” your words are breathy, panted and needy in its manner of delivery. Really, you can’t think straight anymore, not when his fingers are grazing over the swell of your ass and his face is bathed by the golden glow. Right now is perfect. “I just really want to be with you.”

You shudder when Nanami finally tugs your underwear to the side, the feeling of his fingers smoothing over your inner thighs and just hovering right where you want him to be enough to make you go crazy. You’re shaking, panting, almost crying.

Who knows how long you’ve wanted him – you’re simply too impatient if he plans to take his time with you.

A demand is ready to fall from your lips to just get him to take you already, but Nanami beats you to it, his pointer finger grazing against your slit. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promises, gritting his teeth the moment his thick, long finger sinks into you beautifully. Your head falls back in a moan as he pumps his fingers inside, testing the waters, and your pleasure is only amplified with the struggle of him trying to quicken his pace under the sea. “You’re so wet already.”

“Shut up, I-I wasn’t—”

“You’re beautiful,” Nanami growls, taking you by surprise when he takes two fingers to spring the knots of your top away. You gasp when your top slides off at the curve off your breasts before your erect nipples are revealed all for him, hard and swollen while he inserts another finger in your heat.

Clutching harder on his shoulders and bouncing yourself off on his finger, Nanami’s self control is tethering dangerously across the edge.

He leans down to suck at your breasts dutifully, fighting against the water that’s surrounding you both. “You’re extremely beautiful,” he praises, “Thank you – for letting me have you this way, for trusting me,” An elongated groan falls from both your lips when he sinks you down on his cock, your heat a great and mind-numbing contrast to the chill of the water. “I think you’re the best birthday gift.”

“Always so romantic, Nanami,” you managed through a laugh, allowing him to fuck into you senselessly. You’re all over him, hands wrapped around his neck, fingers tugging at his hair and tongue swiping out to taste the saltiness of the water on his skin. He’s amazing, so fucking good, and you snap your eyes shut while the soft, crashing waves match the rhythm of his thrusts. “No one could blame me for falling for you.”

“You are?” he grasps your ass until he squeezes it hard enough to make your walls clamp down on him, your grunting muffled by the teeth nibbling his earlobe. “Do you love me?”

“For so long.”

Nanami smiles even if you can’t see it, but it doesn’t matter. He’ll just have to show you, make you feel the words and emotions weighing heavily at his heart. Nanami leans sideways to capture your lips in a wet kiss, hands heavy and harsh compared to his passionate kisses as he keeps bouncing you up and down his cock. He’ll just have to show you.

“I’ll make up for the lost time then.”

You’re wearing your favourite hoodie of Nanami’s as you stand before the counter, stirring both mugs with your hands wrapped around it to warm you up. After your lovemaking session that has turned into more than two rounds, you’re downright spent, the both of you too tired to drive back home and opting for a hotel instead.

The aroma of coffee along with Nanami’s scent lingering on his clothes brings a smile to your face, your heart and skin still fluttery from today’s event.

Just then, strong arms wrap around your waist, soft lips coming down to press at the apples of your cheeks. You giggle in his arms as Nanami sways you both side to side, his head resting on your shoulder.

“I love you,” he announces quietly, so softly and tenderly as if it’s a secret only you’re allowed to know. You already became aware of his feelings – he’s shown it enough – but hearing it come from his own lips feels different.

Growing up, you always believed that love would come to you rapidly, overwhelmingly. But as Nanami swoops down to kiss you once more, his lips tasting faintly of the cake you both got on the way, you realize love is more like the soft crashing waves that comes gradually, slowly, yet constantly until you’re surrounded and it consumes you whole. It buds and grows larger until the crashing waves expand into an ocean of feelings that can’t even comprehend the depth of what you feel him, and you kiss him hard, embrace him hard – you just want to show him.

2K notes · View notes

mypoisonedvine · 3 years

Text

𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖈𝖊 III {finale} || professor!helmut zemo x reader

{𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 I} {𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 II}

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞 : some part of you thought that maybe you could get through this without ever having to really talk about your feelings, or the future, or all those things you were pretending didn’t matter. but they matter, and they can’t go unspoken forever.

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙 : 11.7k

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 : smut (semi-public sex aka car sex), some possessiveness, angst, fluffffff way too much fluff, violence (mentioned), mentions of serious injury, military references, relationship discussions, choking (non-sexual lmao it’s just on food), minor character death (in a flashback kinda, not graphic)

You glanced over at him as he stared out into the road ahead, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on your thigh, his thumb absent-mindedly stroking your skin.

The weekend getaway had been his idea, but he let you pick the destination. You picked a cabin in a cute little seaside town, something relaxed where you could spend the whole weekend in bed together and not worry about the rest of the world for a little while.

But you were still in the car, so you were still worrying— specifically, worrying that this felt sort of like a boyfriend and girlfriend thing. And that itself wasn’t so bad, but it made you feel like the ‘what are we?’ talk was inevitable, as was that talk going poorly. You could picture it now: I like spending time with you, he’d say, one of those things that sounds like a compliment but really means you’re worth it as long as you require no effort and stay out of my way.

And you’d just nod and pretend to be okay with it because you were in too deep now to break it off. When you were together, you were so happy that you couldn’t imagine ending it; and when you were apart, you missed him so much that all you could think about was the next time you would be together.

We’re happy now, why do things need to change? he’d say, one of those things that makes sense until you really think about it and understand that it just means why would I care if we’re moving forward or not? I’m already getting what I want.

You sighed, leaning your head back against the seat, and he glanced at you quickly. “What are you thinking about?” he asked, squeezing your thigh.

“Nothing,” you mumbled.

“You expect me to believe that?” he chuckled. “You’re overthinking again, I can feel it.”

“You can feel me overthinking?” you confirmed, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course,” he nodded. “I can tell your mood very well by now.”

“Alright, then why ask me what I’m thinking about if you already know what I’m feeling, mind reader?” you challenged.

“You’re sighing because you are bored from being in the car so long,” he decided, “and you’re also noticing that you’ve never dated anybody who drove such a nice car before.”

Does that mean we’re dating? “Anything else?” you smirked.

“And you’re wishing I would move my hand a little higher.”

Before you could react to that, he moved his fingers up under your skirt, gripping your thigh tightly until you breathed another sigh— one very different from the last.

“Am I right?” he grinned.

“Spot on,” you breathed, whimpering a little when one of his fingers toyed with the hem of your panties. It was subtle, teasing, and yet it was enough to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and your thighs to clench together which he noticed easily.

He tutted in faux disappointment when his finger moved down to find a wet patch in the fabric. “Oh, wet already… what are we going to do with you, draga?”

Whatever the fuck you wanna do with me, you thought, but when your lips fell open thankfully only a little moan fell out.

It was impossible to complain about the risk of distracted driving when his fingers slipped into your panties and explored your folds— yet you were about to complain when he pulled his hand away, until you watched him bring his soaked fingers to his lips, quickly getting a taste before reaching under your skirt again. As if that wasn’t hot enough, he growled a bit when he pushed two fingers into you suddenly.

“Fuck,” you whispered, making him smile proudly. He only ventured the fingers inside you briefly, sliding them out slowly to brush the rough pads of them over your clit and it made your whole body shudder— he pressed down, drawing slow circles, until you were biting back whimpers and pleas for more.

He kept on teasing you, only reaching as deep as he needed to to lightly press into your spot before slipping out to rub your clit and then start the process all over again.

“You’re so…” you panted.

“Hm?”

“You’re so mean,” you hissed.

“Am I? I can stop if I’m bothering you,” he offered.

“N-no! I… I just need more, please,” you groaned, yelping a bit when he pinched your clit roughly.

This time when he filled you with his fingers, he twisted his arm to go a bit deeper and kept his thumb on your clit, your soaked pussy making it easy for him to pump in and out at an increasing pace.

Your eyes fell shut as you gripped the seat beneath you, rocking your hips up against his hand for more.

“Ohh, fuck, Helmut, I’m gonna come,” you warned mindlessly.

You only opened your eyes when you felt the car start to shift, looking over to him as he checked the road before pulling over off the side and stopping near the wooded treeline.

“Wh-what are you—?” you mumbled, cut off when he put the car in park and grabbed your face to kiss you roughly. You held the wrist by his hand that held your face, moaning against his tongue, still not sure what he was up to but already on board.

“Get in the back, I can’t wait any longer,” he whispered, and you nodded dreamily as you broke away and awkwardly climbed into the backseat; he followed soon after, pushing you back against the leather and sliding his body between your legs; holding you close, kissing you harder.

It would have been reasonable to expect that the small space would make everything more uncomfortable, but instead it just made it hotter— like there wasn’t room to be anywhere but pressed right up against each other, like the only place he could rest his hands was on your body. You felt totally helpless to his dominating and open-mouthed kiss, to his thick hands tugging your clothes out of the way while you blindly attempted to open his belt.

You reached into his trousers and found him already incredibly hard, wrapping your fingers around the silky skin and grinning when he cursed under his breath.

A bit hasty with your desperation getting the better of you, you guided him to your entrance and began to slowly push your hips forward— but he held your thighs and did it for you, sliding in in one smooth stroke.

This angle seemed to force him even deeper, and you clutched his shirt in weak fists as he pushed all the way inside. “H-Helmut,” you breathed as he started to move, not quite sure if it was a plea for him to slow down or never stop.

“Fuck, say my name again,” he demanded.

“Helmut,” you repeated, giggling when he kissed your neck on a spot that sort of tickled a bit.

“One more time,” he instructed; you could feel his grin against your skin, alongside his teeth grazing your pulse.

Just as you started to say it he fucked you harder all of a sudden, just to make you choke on it. Soon you were saying his name like a prayer, over and over until you worried you’d lose your voice and he had to kiss you to make you stop. “Say you’re mine,” he pleaded softly, right against your lips, “like you did the first time.”

You felt shame pang at the back of your head, a strong instruction from what was left of your logical mind not to do that. But for all your mind’s protests, your body was already his and already bending to his will. “Yours,” you moaned, “Helmut, I’m yours…”

“I know,” he breathed, nodding slightly as he kissed you again, “I know, baby.”

You whimpered and wrapped your legs around his hips, holding him closer as he stayed deep inside you, barely letting him pull back to thrust though he still managed regardless. The bottom of his shirt was rubbing against your clit (consequences of only half-undressing for a quickie) and it made your back arch until you couldn’t push your body into his anymore.

Embarrassingly quickly, pressure began to build inside you, your moans getting louder as they echoed around the inside of the car.

“Will you come for me, draga?” he purred, a low growl against your neck where he had moved his assault of wet kisses. You nodded quickly, holding onto his back tight and biting down on your lip a bit too hard. His hand held your neck, thumb running over your jaw, and in a way it soothed you, but it also sent you tumbling over the edge all at once You barely choked out his name as your attempt at a warning, as if it weren’t obvious just from the way your channel seized up immediately. “Good girl,” he cooed lowly right against your ear, “so good for me, don’t stop.”

You couldn’t stop so long as he kept his pace— not nearly as fast as you were used to, much more measured and patient, and yet it ruined you in a way nothing else could.

It was much too sensual for the backseat of a Lexus. Much too delicate and loving for two people who weren’t even in a formal relationship. Much too perfect to ever forget, irritatingly enough.

He kept his eyes open to watch your face closely as he came inside you, admiring every detail of your face twisted in pleasure— a tear even fell down your temple and he softly brushed it away— before it all slowed down to a stop and you were just holding each other.

Once you both cooled off for just a second, he pulled you close and rolled you around so he was sitting and you straddled his lap, keeping you in an embrace while he kissed your neck and shoulder. “So beautiful,” he whispered, so quiet you almost didn’t hear it.

You wanted to tell him that you meant it, that you were really his. That it wasn’t just dirty talk (and you weren’t even sure if it qualified as ‘dirty’). Even if he rejected you, at least it would be off your chest.

But you chickened out; and in your defense, if there’s any time to have a talk with a partner that might end up awkward, right before a weekend trip is probably the worst time possible. So, it was strategic aside from just pathetic.

“We’re already going to be a bit late,” he noticed, lifting his hand over your shoulder to look at his watch, “is it alright if we just stay like this for a while before I get back to driving?”

You nodded sleepily against his shoulder and he grinned, kissing your cheek. “Maybe you can rest here in the back after that…”

And you did, drifting off quickly in the comfort of his arms. You only partially roused from your sleep when he carefully pulled out of you and laid you down gently, the sound of the car starting coming a few moments later.

He had to keep his eyes on the road, but he wanted so badly to watch you sleep in the rearview mirror.

“So, what did you think?” you smiled expectantly as you turned from watching the credits roll on the TV to looking at where he sat beside you on the cabin’s big fluffy couch.

“Eh,” he shrugged.

“What?!” you squawked. “You just experienced an American classic!”

“American classics, in my experience, are aggressive and boisterous and… greasy,” he explained.

You snorted. “How can a movie be greasy?”

“I meant the food—”

“Oh! We should watch Grease!” you realized.

He grumbled something in Sokovian to himself as he rubbed his forehead, and you laughed in relent. “Fine, I won’t make you watch anything more.”

“No, I like watching movies with you,” he decided, “but maybe the next one can be a bit more… subtle.”

"The next movie we watch should be Sokovian," you suggested.

"There aren't many Sokovian films… the constant war was pretty hard on the cinema industry, believe it or not,” he scoffed. “We managed to make a lot of porn, though.”

“Well then maybe we should watch some of that,” you smirked, and he laughed as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Oh no, it’s awful. Plumbers and lonely housewives, cops pulling women over, that sort of thing,” he dismissed.

“Cheesy porn tropes, you say? Like, perhaps, a professor and his student?” you pressed, leaning in to run your fingers playfully over his open collar. “So unrealistic.”

“It was different with us,” he decided.

“How?”

“It wasn’t for a grade, we never used the term ‘oral exam’...”

“Mm, maybe we should have,” you purred, hopping up to straddle his lap and trace your finger over the chain of his necklace that was just barely exposed under his shirt. “It’s sorta sexy.”

“Really? Oral exam?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. “Makes me think of the dentist.”

“Oh, so you don’t think dentists are hot?” you joked. “Who doesn’t like latex gloves and drills in their mouth?”

He laughed, and although you were sort of trying not to seem totally desperate, you just couldn’t hold yourself back from trying to kiss that smile right off his face— thankfully he didn’t seem to mind, humming a bit against your lips and placing his hands on your back to hold you closer.

Just when you thought he would deepen it, he pulled back slightly.

“Wait,” he mumbled against your lips, pushing you back gently to break the kiss. “It was… different with us, right?”

You shook your head slightly, confused as you struggled to remember what he was talking about. “What? Yeah, of course.”

Hastily pressing your lips back on his, you were all in but he was clearly distracted, only half-heartedly kissing you back; you could all but taste his hesitance and it forced you to pull back and look down at him again.

“What’s wrong?” you asked softly, tilting your head.

“Oh, uh, nothing’s wrong,” he assured, “I just… I was just thinking.”

“...what were you thinking about?” you asked when you realized that was the end of his sentence.

“I was thinking about what you said a few weeks ago, on my birthday— that you liked that I’m so much older than you.”

“Mhm?”

“You’re not…” he started and began again. “This isn’t just… about that, for you, is it?”

“What?” you furrowed your brow.

“I mean, is that what this—” he motioned to the space between the two of you— “is about?”

You frowned, a little sinking feeling already forming in your gut. “I don’t understand,” you spoke, but your fear was more that you understood him completely.

“My English isn’t good enough for this,” he sighed. “Sometimes I worry that this is… something you do.”

“That what is something I do?” you asked, a bit more pointed than you meant for it to come out, but you really just needed him to say it.

“Date older men,” he finally finished. “Seduce professors, I don’t know, whatever you’d like to call it.”

You straightened up and got up off of his lap, stepping back. “Seriously? You think this is, like, my kink or something?”

“No, I don’t think so,” he clarified, standing up with you, “but I’m asking in case I’m wrong.”

Maybe on some level, you could appreciate that it was a reasonable question. After all, you had been sort of wanting to ask him if he made a habit of seducing students— but you didn’t because you knew it would be horribly offensive, which is why it was so aggravating that he was doing it to you now. In these months together (but not together together), had he not learned enough about your character to realize you weren’t in it for anything but him? “I told you I haven’t even dated that much before you,” you reminded him firmly, crossing your arms.

“And I believe you, I’m not accusing you of anything—”

“It kinda sounds like you are!” you snapped.

“And it sounds like you are getting defensive about it, which makes me worry even more!” he shot back, and you wondered if you’d ever heard him raise his voice before.

“Well, don’t worry about it, because it’s none of your business,” you rolled your eyes, “we’re not even dating anyway.”

Just as you started to walk away, not even sure where you would go when you were staying here with him (a walk outside, maybe, just to clear your head and be somewhere that he couldn’t see you cry?), he stopped you with a hand on your shoulder.

“Wait, please,” he breathed, and only because he sounded so broken-hearted did you turn around.

“What?” you sighed, showing your irritation in lieu of your heartbreak.

He took a quick breath, collecting himself before he spoke again. “I don’t mean to be invasive and I certainly don’t mean to be controlling,” he explained, “I just… I want to understand what you want. From me, specifically.”

“Okay,” you nodded, “that might be a more complicated question than you realize. With a complicated answer.”

“I have time, I have the rest of the weekend," he decided. “Just tell me that this isn’t only fun for you. If it is, then… then I’m glad you had your fun, and we can have fun together here, and then when we get back to the city… we can go our separate ways.”

“And if it’s not?”

He swallowed, looking away briefly before stepping closer, reaching up to cradle your face in his palm. “If it’s not just fun, then… then we need to have a different conversation.”

You cleared your throat nervously. “What conversation?”

“I need to know first,” he insisted, “or it would be wrong for me to tell you. I don’t want you to spare my feelings, draga, I just want the truth.”

What you really wanted was to know his feelings first so you could spare your own, but he was so adamant on making you speak first, his gaze desperately searching your face as you tried to avoid the heat of it. “I…” you began, not sure what to say. You knew what you wanted to say, you just didn’t know how, exactly. Looking up into his eyes again, you took a quick breath and started over, trying to ignore your heart racing inside your chest. “It’s not just fun, Helmut, or a bucket list thing or a ‘trying something wild and crazy while I’m still young’ thing. I’m serious about this… but, you know, if you just wanna stay casual I understand—”

He cut you off with a kiss, sudden but not quite desperate; rather relaxed, actually, and you melted into it as his arm snaked around your waist and pulled you close.

“I love you,” he whispered against your lips.

“You— what?” you gasped, pushing back slightly against his chest.

“I love you,” he repeated. “It’s not just fun, it’s not a bucket list thing or a midlife crisis thing— I love you, I’ve been in love with you for weeks and couldn’t think of what to say… I was afraid to smother you, you wouldn’t be wrong to want more freedom than you can have with me.”

A shaky breath moved in and out of your lungs as you looked away from his gaze— it was too wonderfully all-encompassing for you to be able to process this with his eyes on you.

“I hope it doesn’t bother you,” he mumbled nervously, “but I can’t change how I feel.”

“No, it doesn’t… it’s good,” you smiled, starting to laugh. Your heart was beating so heavy you could hear it in your ears, you could barely even hear yourself speak as you answered him. “Helmut, it’s— I love you too, of course.”

“Really?” he beamed.

“Really.”

He kissed you again, harder, and neither of you could stop smiling through it. "Say it again," he pleaded softly.

"I love you," you repeated. "I love you, Helmut."

“Mm, one more time,” he encouraged with a soft laugh as he lifted you into his arms and began to carry you down a familiar path to the cabin’s bedroom.

“I love you I love you I love you I—” you had to stop to gasp when he bit down on your neck, not too hard but still quite surprising, before he tossed you down onto the bed and pounced on top of you.

“Is it fair to say that we’re dating now?” he presumed, making you laugh.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“So it’s just us, you and me, girlfriend and boyfriend?” he continued. “Nobody else?”

“There was never anybody else,” you promised.

“I know, and now there never will be,” he cooed, placing a kiss right on your ear. “You’re all mine now.”

A shiver ran up your spine instantly. “God, how do you do that? Go from sweet to filthy in a split-second?”

“Mm, a habit of mine,” he hummed, “because it makes you all cute and whiny.”

You frowned as he kissed your nose. “Hey!” you, proving him right, whined; he laughed and held the back of your neck as he kissed you again.

Just the sex that followed that conversation would’ve been enough to make this an amazing weekend, but it was even better to leave the vacation as a couple when that wasn’t even how you’d started it.

Afterwards, you laid together in bed and commiserated how silly you both had been to assume the other didn't want more, deciding from now on to be open and honest as much as possible. That was what inspired you the next day to spend the morning trading secrets over the breakfast he'd made.

"I cheated on my eighth grade Spanish exam," you admitted, making him put down his fork in pretend shock.

"¡Chica traviesa!" he gasped.

"Maybe if I'd actually studied, I would know what that means…"

"Truthfully, I can't judge you. I did something similar in my primary studies,” he recalled. “I broke into the teachers' desk and stole an early copy of the exam. But I didn't use it myself, I used it to impress a girl in my class."

You smiled trying to imagine that. "I can see you as the romantic type when you were a kid," you hummed.

"I was more the rebellious type, with girls being one of the more reliable ways to rebel."

That piqued your interest, and you gave him an excited grin of anticipation. "Did you have a punk phase?"

"It was Eastern Europe in the early 90s: of course I had a punk phase," he chuckled. "How else do you celebrate the end of a brutal capitalist revolution but by importing every Western record you can find and dying your hair black in a petrol station's bathroom sink?"

"Oh my god!" you giggled.

"But it was rather minimalist, I wasn't permitted much stylistic freedom so it was little things like that… I wanted an ear piercing, but my mother would've truly had a heart attack."

"I guess you're better than I was,” you shrugged, “my rebellious phase was brief but with a much stronger willingness to sacrifice my mother's sanity."

"Yes, that's more typical," he nodded. "I suppose my real secret was that I didn't want to rebel from my parents nearly as much as I thought I did… I just wanted to make them happy."

You smiled at him as he stared down at his plate. "You sound like a sweet kid."

"Horrifically stupid and a bit self-involved but sure, sweet," he agreed with a chuckle.

"So, all our secrets are out, huh?" you grinned.

"Perhaps I have a few left," he smirked as he leaned across the table to kiss you softly. "I'm saving them for a rainy day."

The weekend went by much too quickly, but you couldn’t begrudge the return to daily life now that you were returning to it together— so far, you’d found that together was the best way to experience life.

Almost as fast as the vacation, so went the seasons as well: you both had classes through summer, and you enjoyed the freedom that came with a much more empty campus; fall, as always, was damp and chilly yet comforting— sometimes the leaves turned just the right color of brown before they fell to remind you of his eyes; winter sent you back home to see your family for the holidays, just for a few days, and you told them you’d bring your mysterious boyfriend next time even though it made your heart race to imagine that.

Your birthday passed at some point during the year, and he took you out to one of those slightly-hipstery barcades where he revealed his secret talent for skeeball— you were glad he felt comfortable completely annihilating your high score even on your birthday. He invited your friends, too, and it went significantly less horribly than you imagined; they only asked him weird questions about being a professor a few times, but otherwise everyone got along oddly well.

And soon it was another spring again, one of your last ones before you graduated, and you let yourself focus on things other than what might happen when you left the university and he almost certainly stayed. For now, you just needed to worry about how you’d ever find time for each other during finals season when both of you were busy for different reasons.

Dinner tonight? I have a reservation at 7 for a place in the museum district. They have a dress code so wear something evening ready if possible. -Z

you don’t have to sign your texts you know. I know it’s you. it says your name right above the text.

It’s more formal this way. -Z

it’s a text message, it will never be formal??

Will I see you at dinner tonight or am I in trouble for asking over text? -Z

I’ll be there

I look forward to your company, draga

hey, you didn’t sign it! progress!

-Z

goddamn it

“This place is… really nice,” you noticed sheepishly, glancing around at the minimalist-yet-luxurious decor of the restaurant while you took your seat across the white-linen-covered table from him. “Like, significantly nicer than I’ve ever been to before.”

“Well, you look like you fit right in,” he assured, and you almost believed him— it was the nicest thing in your closet, but still seemed like the wrong energy compared to how him and everyone else seemed so casually flawless. “I took the liberty of ordering for you,” he explained as he poured water into your glass for you from the basin at the table, “I was going to make you order the salmon anyways, it’s really impeccable.”

“What’s the occasion? I’m still feeling spoiled from the anniversary celebrations last month.”

You two had decided to celebrate a year since the day you’d met (and had sex for the first time; it was an action-packed day) instead of the day you had officially began your relationship, since there was no reason to commemorate months of pretending to be casual while you were both quietly devoted to each other.

“I just want to have a nice date with my girlfriend, is that so terrible?” he smiled.

“No,” you answered quickly, “but that’s a load of bullshit.”

He chuckled a little. “You’re right. I wanted to do something nice with you before I go.”

“Yeah, that’s not ominous at all,” you frowned. “Care to elaborate, international man of mystery?”

The conversation paused briefly as the server came by with your meals, and you gave him a little nod of appreciation before he left; the salmon did look pretty amazing, and you trusted your boyfriend’s taste even if it was often more refined than your own.

“I need to make a trip home in the next few months,” Helmut finally clarified. “Nothing particularly interesting, and thankfully all very temporary— boring estate management stuff, comes up every once in a while,” he shrugged.

“How long will you be gone?” you asked, hoping you didn’t sound as needy as you felt.

“No more than three weeks.”

“Three weeks?!” you yelped.

“You know I’d never leave your side if I had the choice,” he smiled. “It’ll go by in a moment, you might not even notice I’m gone.”

“Are you kidding? I practically live at your apartment. We probably haven’t spent three days apart since we met. Hell, we have sex, like, five times a week!”

You heard the chatter of nearby restaurant-goers die down, and you awkwardly looked around to find some of them staring at you as Helmut tried to suppress his laugh.

“I… may or may not have forgotten we’re in public,” you whispered harshly as most of them seemed to get back to their own conversations. “Let’s not eat here again.”

“Oh, would you like to announce our sexual frequency anywhere else?” he joked, though his tone remained as serious as ever, and it made you laugh even though you were the butt of the joke. “Olive Garden, maybe?”

“Shut up,” you demanded between hiccups of laughter.

“The Texas Roadhouse? I’m sure they would love that,” he continued. “They seem like a real liberal crowd.”

“Stop,” you snorted, trying to catch your breath and not laugh too loud in front of all these people who already had a poor impression of you.

“Or we can go to the drive-through at Taco Bell and you can tell them through the little speaker thing,” he offered, and you hid your burning face behind your cloth napkin.

“You’re mean, I was just trying to say that I’m gonna miss you if you’re gone for so long!”

He leaned across the table to grab the napkin and slowly pull it down from your face, smiling at you when he could see you again. “I’ll make it up to you,” he promised. “We’ll have sex fifteen times when I get back, for lost time.”

“That’s not really my issue,” you sighed. “I mean, yeah, we’re still definitely gonna do that, but that’s not what I’m gonna miss most.”

“I know,” he nodded, “don’t think I’m going to do anything but miss you terribly the whole trip. In fact, that brings me to what I wanted to talk to you about tonight.”

“Telling me you’re leaving for three weeks isn’t the main topic of discussion?” you realized.

“It was, but now I’m here with you and it has me thinking all sorts of things,” he explained.

“Okay… what are you thinking about?” you asked quietly.

“Well, I was just thinking that I don’t want to keep you from living your youth while you can,” he answered, looking back at you as you took a sip of your drink, “but that I’d like to marry you.”

Just like that, you inhaled some water and began coughing and choking.

“Hypothetically!” he blurted out, leaning forward to make sure you were okay but you waved him back into his seat.

“I, uh,” you began, coughing one more time before you started again, “I didn’t think that was what you were thinking about.”

“Well, clearly,” he mumbled.

“I mean, I didn’t know you were thinking about that at all,” you explained, “like, I wasn’t sure that we were there yet.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t notice when I told you not so long ago that this year with you had been the best of my life,” he recalled, making you smile a bit to yourself at the memory. “I’m there. I’m just asking where you are.”

“I guess I need to think about that,” you lied. You didn’t need to think about it, you knew that he was talking about exactly what you wanted, but you needed to convince him you were taking this question seriously— god knows he was constantly worrying that you shouldn’t be tied down to him when you were so young, and although you typically handled that by making a bondage joke (and he typically handled that by making a non-joke bondage offer), you didn’t want him to worry about this.

“Maybe you can think while I’m on my trip,” he decided, “and when I come back, we can talk about the future.”

“I just meant for, like, a few minutes,” you admitted. “I don’t need that long, Helmut. I know what I want.”

“Care to enlighten me?”

“To be with you, whatever that looks like,” you said, sounding more confident than you thought possible. “That’s what I want. And I don’t wanna hear you saying anything about how you think I might be too young for marriage or that I might change my mind later… I have a right to love just as much as you, and to know what’s right for me.”

“And it’s me?”

You smiled as you reached for his hand where it rested on the table, squeezing his fingers in yours. “It’s you. Obviously.”

He looked at your hands held together before he smiled back at you— but it faded suddenly, and he pulled his hand away to lean back in his chair. “There’s something else I should tell you, before I let you say too much...”

You swallowed thickly. Oh god, here it comes. Secret family in Canada, glue-sniffing addiction, absurdly specific and disturbing fetish… the wheel of misfortune was already spinning in your head, and you took a bite of your fish to try to look natural.

“You should know the truth about my family, back in Sokovia? We’re, in a certain sense of the word… royalty.”

You started choking again; why did he keep telling you this stuff while you had something in your mouth??

“Shit, are you alright?” he asked nervously, and you nodded in spite of your fit of coughs.

“Are you a prince?!” you spat out as you started to catch your breath again.

“A baron. A little less romantic, I know,” he smirked.

“And if… if what you’re talking about, actually happened, then that would make me…” you trailed off, raising your eyebrow expectantly.

“My baroness,” he finished for you. Funny enough, the word my was doing more for you than the royal title. “Hypothetically.”

“You keep saying that word,” you noticed. “I hope we think it means the same thing.”

“Maybe a better word would be ‘eventually,’” he decided, and your back straightened because oh shit, this is really going to happen. “Maybe an even better word would be ‘soon.’”

You almost choked again, with no excuse this time as there was nothing in your mouth to actually choke on. “H-how soon?” you whispered, and his lips curled into a mischievous grin as he lifted his drink.

“Sorry darling, I don’t think I can tell you that,” he decided as he took a sip slowly, still staring you down over the rim of the glass.

You shifted nervously in your seat, trying to imagine how you were supposed to be anything but jittery after this conversation.

“Can I ask an inappropriate question?”

He raised his eyebrow. “Let’s try not to scare the other patrons again, but sure.”

“How rich are you?” you blurted out, and he laughed a little.

“Somewhere between ‘outrageously’ and ‘ludicrously,’” he decided. “It might seem a little far-fetched considering I prefer not to live extravagantly here in the States… but we’ve made good use of the last dozen-or-so generations of wealth.”

“And you let me pay for lunch last week!” you remembered, leaning forward to smack him on the shoulder with a scowl.

“That’s all you have to say about that?” he realized bewilderedly.

“It’s all that I can process right now!”

“I should apologize for not telling you sooner,” he nodded.

You paused as you stared back at him. “I sorta thought you’d continue with that by explaining why you didn’t.”

He sighed, looking away. “I spent so much time worrying you were only with me in pursuit of a new experience with an older man. And then if you knew how much money was involved… I didn’t want to jump from one insecurity to the next with you, if I could avoid it.”

“You’re insecure about being rich? Next you’re gonna start crying ‘cause your cock’s too big,” you rolled your eyes.

Again, other diners turned to you and this time you looked back at them.

“What are you looking at, huh?” you snapped, and they all stared back down at their plates quickly. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“If you could stop antagonizing the public, that would be ideal,” Helmut hissed.

“I don’t think I’m handling this very well,” you groaned, hiding your face in your hands. “I wish you would’ve told me before.”

“So do I, but believe me that I had my reasons,” he sighed.

You lowered your hands from your face to rest them on your elbows as you crossed your arms. “I think if we are going to talk seriously about this next step, then you’re gonna have to tell me those reasons,” you decided.

“Right, of course,” he nodded, clearing his throat as he looked to the side. “Well, I guess I should start from the beginning. As good a place to start as any, yes?”

You wrinkled your brow; you weren’t sure why he was so clearly nervous.

“As you can imagine, I was born into the royal life, I didn’t have much of a say in it all. From the time I was eighteen I was the 13th Baron in a line of Sokovian royals who controlled a certain amount of land. In retrospect, I understand how incredibly fortunate I was, especially compared to the poorest people in my country, but at the time all I could appreciate was that it was stuffy and boring and allowed for none of the adventure I longed for. Hence the aforementioned punk phase, but that didn’t satisfy for long. I suppose that was why I enlisted.”

“You were in the military?”

He nodded. “Briefly. I liked the idea of being a part of something that had nothing to do with my name. And I was two years into my contract when my unit was stationed in a little border town, mostly farmland, but Sokovian borders are always contentious places… anyhow, one night, while another Lieutenant and I were on patrol, there was an ambush. They shot at us, we shot back, but we were just firing into the dark so we went down rather quickly… I assumed that was the end, everything went black in an instant before I could even think…”

You shuddered, appreciating how traumatic this was for him as he looked down at his lap, stoic but in that way that clearly held more underneath.

“I woke up in a bed, in a cottage,” he recalled. “A farmgirl heard the gunfire and waited until the enemy forces moved on to render aid. She told me I was nearly dead when she found me but that her uncle was the local doctor and had been able to remove the bullets and stitch me up.”

“You told me those scars were from being attacked by a dog as a child,” you remembered.

“Yes, I didn’t forget the lies I told you,” he frowned. “I think that one should be understandable.”

You swallowed, regretting saying anything. “O-of course, I’m sorry.”

“The important thing is that she told me my partner was dead when she got there, and she couldn’t do anything for him. I was in shock— keep in mind I was young and dumb and thought of myself as some kind of invincible— but for the next month she delicately nursed me into… at least decent health, and helped me cope with it all.” He took a deep breath, a soft and somber smile crossing his face. “I suppose you can imagine what happened next.”

He looked at you again and you gave him a shrug, unsure what he expected you to guess.

“We fell in love,” he finished flatly.

“Oh,” you nodded, “right. It sounds pretty romantic.”

“Yeah, the wounded infantryman and the rural farmgirl… it was all very pastoral,” he sighed, “but anyways, my family was more than hesitant to allow me to marry a poor girl, which obviously only made me want to do it more. I even told her that I’d leave the title for her, and she gave me some pitiful monologue about how she’d never forgive herself if she was responsible for me being disinherited, she pleaded with me to find a way to gain my parents’ approval… but I knew that we were in love and that nothing could stop us, so I didn’t think much of it.”

You tried to imagine him as a young, hopeless romantic, and some part of you was a bit jealous that others got the opportunity to experience that side of him when you didn’t; but it wasn’t like he was exactly cold and hardened now, at least not with you. Just wiser, with more experience and more scars.

“My parents had put their foot down and demanded I call off the engagement. And, oddly enough, they told me that it wasn’t her social standing that bothered them but that they simply didn’t trust her. That they thought I was being rash and had only known her a few months— that I was too young, I would change my mind. I was incensed; I mean, not only do they dare to insult my foresight, but this was the love of my life they were talking about like she was some conniving witch. So I said some things I regret to this day, and I told them to keep their title and their properties and have me formally disowned at their earliest convenience.”

“Wow,” you breathed.

“Well, the truth, as it often does, came out sooner or later. That all along, her love was for the money and not the man. When I told her I’d left my title behind for her, she… didn’t take it very well. And by that I mean she slapped me so hard I saw white for a second.”

Your heart hurt to imagine him being treated like that.

“I told her that we would be poor but we would be happy together, she told me that she never wanted to be poor again, that the reason she did all this was to get out of this hellish farming town and live in a castle in Novi Grad. I suppose I could’ve forgiven all that, after all I imagine she struggled greatly for a long time living that way. But then she started ranting about how she didn’t drag some dying Baron through the mud that night on the patrolway just to marry a poor man. I was heartbroken just realizing that she knew who I was when she saved me— that she might not have if I were anyone else. Like, say, my partner that night.”

Your chest was too tight to gasp properly. “You don’t mean…”

“She held out on me for a minute but I finally got her to admit it… the other man was alive when she found us, but she left him to die while she saved me, apparently planning from the very beginning to seduce me and escape to Novi Grad like she always dreamed of. His name was Miroslav Pavlović, and he was a good man… a boy, really, only twenty when he died. Alone. In the dirt.”

Hot tears on your cheeks made you realize you were crying, and you awkwardly wiped them away in hopes that he wouldn’t notice.

He took another deep breath and seemed to reorient his mind, away from the mourning and back to his story. “Of course, I, being a young man with all my pride, told my parents that I ended it in respect of their wishes, but I think my mother suspected what really happened. Especially when the girl went ahead and married my cousin.”

“She what?!”

“An industrious young woman, I have to give her that,” he nodded. “She didn’t need a Baron, she just needed somebody who could get her out of the farm and into whatever her idea was of a luxurious life. And yes, it is exactly as wonderful as you’re imagining to see her on those rare occasions where the extended family all has to gather.”

“Yikes,” you mumbled. “That’s… cold.”

“I suppose it all worked out for the best— I dodged a bullet much worse than the ones that hit me before I met her, she got her riches and noble husband, and my parents were free to arrange a marriage for me with a woman of more adequate social standing. I was so convinced I was terminally unlovable that I actually went along with it.”

“You married her?”

“No, I just agreed to, on the condition that we meet a few times first, at least. It was the second time we met when she confided in me that she was actually a lesbian.”

“Oh!” you chuckled, hoping it wasn’t inappropriate to laugh a bit. Not as his misfortune, per se, or at the idea of a lesbian in general, but just the way this story seemed to get more complex at evey turn.

“Yes, well, my family was more liberal but hers were not the sort who would respond well to that news… I considered going through with the marriage to give her an alibi, so to speak, and the both of us would quietly have affairs with women— ideally different women— to keep up appearances for our families. She and I actually got along alright, we thought maybe we could be good friends, which some husbands and wives aren’t even when they marry for more genuine reasons.”

You scoffed as you nodded, “yeah, true that…”

“But,” he shrugged, “I got cold feet, I just couldn’t bring myself to resign to an entire relationship built on a lie again, so, I decided to leave it all behind and study at a German university— I chose history because I’d consumed historical nonfiction voraciously throughout most of my life and it seemed like a good fit, and I suppose it was the right choice… because here I am.”

You took a long, deep breath, but you didn’t feel that much more stabilized afterwards. “Okay, a lot to unpack with that,” you announced. “I understand why you didn’t tell me about the money, with everything that happened before… but you lived this entire life that I knew nothing about. You already know everything about me.”

“I couldn’t tell you much more than I did without burdening you with it.”

“Sure, but you can appreciate that this puts me in a sort of vulnerable position,” you offered.

“Right,” he agreed. “That was, of course, never my intention. I don’t tell anyone the things I’m telling you now, understand that. Everyone at the university thinks I came from much more humble beginnings and has no idea about my military service— well, except for that one royal historian who unfortunately recognized my name, but I’ve been bribing him into silence from my first day.”

“Wait, you pay him off?!”

“Oh, god no— I just grade his final term papers,” Helmut shrugged. “But still, I got pretty comfortable with my reinvention, weeks go by without me thinking about my life before this. Especially with you… sometimes I thought maybe it would be better to quietly abandon it all and become the person you thought I was.”

You smiled a little; maybe you wished that you knew how to be angry with him even in times like this, but you just couldn’t do it. “You’re still the person I think you are,” you assured. “Where you come from is not who you are, it’s just one of those things that help make you who you are. It’s up to you to decide what you do with it… and I think you’ve done something pretty great with it. Plenty of people who didn’t need to work for a living just wouldn’t.”

“I know it sounds nice, and I won’t pretend it isn’t an invaluable resource, but I find it much more fulfilling to work. I really love what I do, so that helps.”

Nodding a little to yourself, you reflected on how true that really was; after all, this all began in a classroom where you were enchanted by his passion.

“I suppose the moral of the story is… I’m sorry that I hid things from you,” he concluded firmly. “I’ve learned that I can’t protect myself from heartache and love you properly at once— I have to pick one. I want to choose to love you, I want to choose that every day for… well, forever. If you’ll let me. But if the secrets are too insurmountable, I won’t judge you.”

You let out a heavy sigh. “That’s the dilemma of love, isn’t it? You have to be willing to get hurt. But the last thing I want is to hurt you, I promise. And in the end, it really doesn’t matter if you’re rich or poor or a fugitive from the law or an alien from space: I love you, really.”

For the first time since he started telling you everything, he seemed to relax. “I love you too, I hope that much is obvious.”

You nodded, reaching across the table to hold his hand. “Yeah, it is. I’m still getting used to that, honestly.”

“Not that I don’t mind being the first,” he tilted his head, “but it’s a shame no one ever cherished you before, in the way that you deserve.”

“You do seem to mind it a little bit, when you always go on about ‘keeping me from my youth’ or ‘restricting me when I should be free’ or whatever,” you recalled, putting on a poor imitation of his accent when you quoted him.

“Well, I guess it’s that I never desired to be the first,” he clarified, staring you down suddenly, “but that I intend to be the last.”

That look… you were already biting your lip and you didn’t even notice it. “Okay,” you sighed.

“Hm?”

“You can be the last, just take me home,” you whispered, crossing your legs to hold your thighs together as your tongue ran over your teeth.

He could only bear to tear his eyes from you for a second as he called out, “The check, please!”

wanna come over later? I can’t focus enough to study

You stared down at the text you’d sent Kacey, wondering if it made you sound pathetic. You didn’t want to seem like the sort of girl who made her boyfriend her whole life, and therefore had no idea what to do with herself while he was gone. And to be clear, it wasn’t loneliness itself that made you so listless; of course, you missed him plenty, but your inability to get anything done or even enjoy some alone time was disrupted by that sort of numb, shocked feeling you got every time you remembered that he wanted to get married.

Even more shocking: you wanted to get married.

It didn’t feel too soon, it didn’t feel all that sudden, but it felt like it should feel too soon, if that makes any sense. Maybe you could try to explain it to Kacey if she ever checked her damn phone.

You groaned as you tossed the device away, knowing staring down the screen wouldn’t make her answer any faster. Having already watched everything good on every streaming service ever, you figured your next step was to move on to the mediocre things on streaming, but you couldn’t decide between a show about renovating tiny-houses or cooking using only leftovers.

It was hard to focus on your choices when you kept playing the moment before he left in your mind over and over.

You nestled in under his arm around your shoulders, tightening your grip around his torso until you caught a glance of his watch.

“Don’t you need to leave soon? There will be traffic on the way to the airport.”

“No, there shouldn’t be, it’s only a ten minute drive.”

“What? It’s at least half an hour.”

He laughed a little as he realized the misunderstanding. “Darling, I’m not going to the airport. I’m going to a private airport. For a private plane.”

You cleared your throat. “Oh… right. Still getting used to the exorbitantly rich thing.”

“But I suppose I should finish my packing, I think I’ve put off the last of it long enough,” he sighed, sitting up and tearing himself out of your arms even though you were pouting about it.

Before he left he gave you a long kiss at the door, just meant to say goodbye, but then your knees went weak and he had to hold you and it all started to lead from one thing to another very quickly.

“Fuck, Helmut, your flight,” you reminded him breathlessly, holding onto his biceps as he kissed down your neck.

“They’ll wait for me, it’s my fucking plane,” he growled, grabbing your hips hard. “I need to be inside you one more time before I go.”

Just as the best parts of the memory started to flood back, your phone rang and you jumped up instantly; the sound of 99 Luftballons, your custom ringtone for him that started as a joke but stuck for some reason, told you it was your boyfriend calling and it barely rang for a second before you answered.

“Hi!” you greeted instantly. You looked at the clock on the wall and did some quick math to realize it was probably almost time for dinner there, when it was still before noon where you were.

“Hello, darling,” he answered back, his voice instantly soothing you as you leaned back against the headboard of your (his) bed.

“Your accent is stronger than when you left,” you noticed.

“This is the first time I’ve spoken English in days,” he explained.

“How does it feel to be home?”

“Do you mean being in Sokovia, or talking to you?”

“Baaaabe,” you whined playfully, “you’re gonna make me all needy…”

“I just wish I was there to see the effect I was having on you,” he cooed. “It’s been a bit boring without you— I’m going to bring you with me next time, I assure you. Not just because I miss you so much, but so you can see the country. I want you to see my homeland and there’s no one better to show you around than myself.”

“You really love it, don’t you?” you hummed.

“More than almost anything,” he answered, and you knew what he was implying he loved most. “I know it has… struggled, it isn’t considered exactly a vacation spot by many, but it means everything to me. I don’t have much family left for you to meet, but I’m sure I’ll find some people to show you off to.”

“I’d love to come with you,” you agreed, “you know I’d go with you anywhere, though.”

“And you need to try the ćevapi!” he added, and you could hear his beaming smile through the phone. “Sokovian food is very different from Western dishes but I think you’ll enjoy it.”

“Yeah,” you agreed dreamily, laying back on the pillow as you heard him sigh from the other end.

“God, I miss you,” he breathed, making you hum proudly.

“Miss you too,” you agreed. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot…”

“Yeah? I bet I can guess what you were thinking about.”

“Such as?”

“Things I can’t say right now, in case someone hears me,” he chuckled. “We may not speak English much but they still understand it.”

“Well, I’m all alone,” you purred, “and I’ve been thinking about everything I’m gonna do to you when you get back.”

“Oh fuck, baby, don’t—” he pleaded weakly.

“I really wanna ride you,” you continued in a sultry voice you didn’t even mean to put on, “even though you’re probably too big for that, I just want you so deep in me I can’t fucking breathe—”

“You’re cruel,” he hissed, a low whisper, and you loved his helplessness.

“It’s been so lonely without you, Helmut, I’ve been fucking myself with every toy I can find but nothing fills me up like you do, god I just need your cock.”

“I should’ve had something custom made,” he decided, still whispering but you could hear him smirk, too. “So it’s only ever me inside you.”

“Even then, it’s not the same… it has to be you, the way you fuck me is just impossible to recreate, nothing’s as good as you, professor.”

He made a strained noise and you giggled happily. “How long has it been since you’ve called me that?”

“Too long,” you hummed, “I still think it’s pretty hot.”

“Oh, it definitely is,” he chuckled breathlessly, “listen, I have to return to my meeting, and you’ve made it impossible to focus on boring legal things now but I need to try my best. Alright? I’ll call you tonight, if you’re still awake.”

Of course, your tonight was his tomorrow morning; you decided not to make him worry by admitting you would stay up all night to be able to talk to him. “Okay,” you sighed, “good luck in your boring legal meeting.”

He gave one last whispered ‘goodbye’ and the line beeped as the call ended; you sighed and flopped back onto the bed, staring up at your ceiling blankly.

He’d only been gone four days. How were you supposed to make it to three weeks?

When his plane landed, you were waiting for him in the car, parked on the runway; it was a much quicker process than picking someone up from a traditional airport, plus you got to run to him the second he was off the plane and it made you feel like you were in an old movie or something.

Throwing dignity to the wind, you jumped into his arms and let him spin you around, setting you down to kiss you hard as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I missed you so much,” he mumbled against your lips, hands gripping your waist, and you’d been trying to imagine this moment ever since he left but you couldn’t have ever come close to how perfect it was.

“Missed you more,” you promised with a smile. “Let’s go home, Helmut.”

“Or…” he trailed off, and you raised an eyebrow as you sank back down onto your heels and looked up at him.

“Or?”

“Or we could get back on the plane and tell them to take us wherever we want.”

“I-I have finals!” you gasped. “So do you!”

“Not until next week,” he dismissed, “this is just for a few days.”

“I haven’t packed any of my stuff!”

“You have your phone, everything else can be bought when we get there,” he shrugged.

“What’s gotten into you?!” you giggled, looking back up at him wildly and wondering how he could seem so calm.

“I’m rich and in love and a little bit impulsive, is that so bad?” he smirked. “Where do you wanna go, draga? Rome? Sydney? Jakarta? Nairobi?”

“...Luxembourg,” you blurted out.

He chuckled a little, eyes sparkling. “Why there?”

“First place I thought of. Is that a good enough reason to want to go someplace?”

“It is to me,” he grinned. “You get on the plane and get comfortable, I’ll tell the pilot where we’re going.”

“Okay,” you laughed. “This is crazy, you know.”

“I know,” he nodded, taking your hand and guiding you up the stairs back onto the jet.

It wasn’t like you’d never experienced the concept of travel before, but it was still blowing your mind that you’d woken up in your (his) bed this morning and now, in the same day, you were spending your evening in box seats at the Luxembourg National Opera. He picked out the gown you were wearing (only fair since he was picking up the tab) and at first you had worried you couldn’t pull it off, but the way he kept glancing over at you made you confident you looked just fine.

“You’re not watching the performance,” you whispered to him, leaning closer to his shoulder.

“You don’t really need to see an opera, do you?” he frowned. “Can’t I just look at you?”

“These tickets cost an arm and a leg, you can look at me for free!” you hissed, but you softened a bit when his hand moved to rest on yours and he kissed your temple softly.

The two of you stayed that way for the rest of the performance, leaning on each other and holding hands. Even when you'd been together this long, you still felt butterflies when he interlaced his fingers with yours.

When the show was over and the lights came up to a wave of applause, he looked at you with bright eyes and took your hand.

"Let's walk to the hotel, yes?" he suggested. "Explore the proper way instead of a cab."

"I can't walk that far in these shoes," you frowned.

"I'll carry them for you!"

"I can't walk that far barefoot," you laughed.

"Then I'll carry you," he offered, extending his hand for you to take.

And that was how you ended up being carried piggyback through the streets of Luxembourg, across cobblestone that reflected the soft yellow glow of the street lamps and sconces, in the most expensive dress you'd ever worn.

Life is crazy like that, sometimes.

"You know, this place is a bit like Sokovia," he decided, "but with a better GDP and fewer churches."

"As I understand it, most of the world has a better GDP and fewer churches than Sokovia," you quipped.

"Hey!" he yelped in defense. "Just because it's completely true doesn't mean you have any right to say it!"

You laughed, holding onto his neck tighter but trying your best not to inadvertently choke him.

"Typical of a Westerner to have something snarky to say while standing on the backs of hard-working Sokovians," he scoffed, "or, in this case, riding on the back of one hard-working Sokovian."

"Hard-working? What exactly does a Baron do for work?" you interrogated.

"Uh, carry spoiled girlfriends around tiny European countries, for one," he enumerated, "and when we're not casually becoming distinguished professors in America, we have to manage the various projects of the estate… the Zemo family— which is just me, at this point— runs eleven orphanages. I visit those sometimes and make sure they have everything they need."

"Okay, I don't know that I'd call that hard work, but it's very important so you get a pass," you decided.

"This is us," he announced he stopped walking.

"What's us?" you asked, looking around.

"This building, this is where we're staying," he explained as he set you down and made sure you were balancing right on your heels.

You let your jaw drop as you looked up at the building, admiring the carved stone face with its intricate detail, designs that evoked a certain prestige that just couldn't be found on American buildings.

"Wow," you nodded, "you really don't skimp on your last-minute random vacations, huh?"

"Not if I can avoid it," he shrugged, leading you inside.

For an exterior so gothic, the hotel’s lobby was modern and clean, though certainly not lacking in extravagant touches; you were a bit too tired to properly appreciate that, though, leaning up against his shoulder as he conversed with the front desk clerk in German in order to finish the check-in process.

The hotel had one of those elevators with mirrors on the walls, and a more energetic version of yourself might have noticed the fooling-around potential of the space, but instead you just let your eyes fall shut until you reached the correct floor. Being an incredibly fancy place, the rooms had actual keys and not just RFID keycards— you thought Helmut looked quite regal in his opera tux, unlocking a mahogany door with a golden key. Hard to imagine him in a windowless office and a messenger bag on his shoulder now, but you could remember falling for him in that state just the same.

He let you in first— a true gentleman, of course— and the moment the door to the room shut behind him, you groaned and flopped down onto the bed unceremoniously. He, meanwhile, undid his bowtie and unbuttoned a few buttons of his shirt before he laid down on his side by you, running his fingers over your back left exposed by the dress for a few moments before he pulled away.

“Darling?” he called to you softly, but you were too lazy to lift your head from where they were buried in the pillows.

“Mhmm?” you answered back, muffled.

“I…” he began, sighing before he started over. “Well, nevermind.”

“What is it?” you pressed, turning your head over to see him— but then you saw his face, and the conflicted look it wore, and you sat up to lay closer to him. “What’s wrong?” you asked gently, watched the way his hair fell into his face when he combed his fingers through it and glanced away from you.

“Draga, I must admit that I lied to you before about why I was returning home,” he spoke, and you were confused but said nothing. You would’ve worried if it weren’t for the look on his face— calm, yet with something brewing in his gaze that you couldn’t quite describe. But you trusted him. When your brain would normally fill the silence with a thousand awful ideas of his real reason for his visit to Novi Grad, it was suddenly quiet. “It wasn’t just for management of the estate… I had to retrieve something.”

He reached into his coat pocket, fishing out a small velvety box with red and gold along the edges. Your heart either stopped, or beat harder than it ever had before; at a certain point the difference was irrelevant.

“I know I should wait longer, for the perfect time, or even just any other time than when you’re not jet-lagged and I’m not so nervous I can’t even think, but…”

A sudden sigh fell from your lips when he opened the box and showed you the ornate ring inside— you couldn’t tell if it was aquamarine or blue diamonds but they shined brilliantly nonetheless.

“My mother wore this ring from the day my father gave it to her until the day she died,” he explained. “I would like for you to wear it.”

Too stunned to do much else, you looked up at him blankly.

“I want you to be my wife,” he clarified, like he thought you didn’t understand what he was asking, and finally you snapped back to reality (as overwhelming as that reality was). You smiled, even nearly laughing, as you leaned in to almost press your lips to his— but when he leaned closer you kept him at bay with a hand on his collar.

“Say it again,” you requested coyly.

“You’re going to make me propose twice?” he realized, and you nodded as you bit your lip. “I’ll say it a thousand times, draga: be my wife.”

“Two down, 998 to go,” you grinned, laughing when he growled and pulled you closer to bury his face in your neck. You definitely noticed the longer beard when it tickled your skin with every kiss to your pulse.

“Be my wife, be my wife, my wife,” he cooed, casually starting to slip the ring on your finger before you dodged him.

“No no no, you haven’t said it a thousand times yet,” you chided him, “and I haven’t said ‘yes’ yet.”

“Oh, darling, don’t dare me to make you say ‘yes’ as if I don’t make you scream it out every night.”

And that’s exactly what he did: make you say yes a thousand times to a thousand proposals, pinning you down and showering you in love relentlessly. For once you just accepted it; for once he didn’t feel guilty.

In a certain sense it was sort of hasty, half-dressed and unexpected with him fumbling to hold your dress out of the way while you clung to his shirt and kissed him hungrily: but still, it was nothing less than sensual, due in part to every beautiful thing he whispered to you until you were too far gone to understand them. He still kept going after that, even, just to feel the weight of his words on his tongue. Just to promise himself to you whether you could hear him or not.

Who could say how far into the night it went? That was the magical thing about it all— neither of you cared, neither of you worried or even thought twice about what time it was or if the sun would rise soon or if it would never rise at all and this was actually the beginning of the apocalypse. It didn’t make a difference; because whether the world ended now or in a decade or in a billion years, you would be together for the rest of your lives.

We were young and in love and I knew nothing could stop us, you remembered something he said. He said it like it was ridiculous, just a frivolous dream; and in retrospect, he may have been right about that specific situation, but now you understood why he had felt that way— you too felt that euphoric glow of knowing you were on the edge of something amazing. Maybe not something perfect, but something that would work out for the best in the end.

When he was finally satisfied with how many times he had satisfied you and you fell asleep on his chest, he took the opportunity to slip the ring on your finger, admiring how beautiful your hand looked wearing it before he kissed the top of your head.

“Fits perfectly,” he whispered to you in spite of your unconsciousness. “We’ll be so happy, draga… I promise.”

#helmut zemo x reader #baron zemo x reader #helmut zemo au #professor!baron zemo x reader #professor!zemo x reader

1K notes · View notes

babblydrabbly · 3 years

Text

Distracted (Peacemaker x Reader) Smut

Pairing(s): Peacemaker x F!Reader; Brief Javelin x Reader

Characters: Peacemaker/Christopher Smith, Amanda Waller, Javelin

Rating: M

Word Count: 3.5k+

Warning(s): Smut, language, mentions of blood/violence. Choking, cream pie, semi-rough sex.

Summary: Out on a Task Force X mission, Peacemaker notices you're acting... different. He generously offers to help with what's distracting you. Asshole.

A/N: What's this? Baby's first Peacemaker fic? Takes place before The Suicide Squad (2021). Metahuman!Reader has super strength/speed abilities. Also, what kind of vanilla name is Chris Smith.

---

"Again?"

Amanda Waller arched a brow at your perturbed expression.

"My apologies." She droned. "Am I not stimulating you with enough variety, [L/n]?"

You scoffed, folding your arms in deference. It wasn't about that— It was about the deliberately repeated pairings with Christopher Smith. The dynamic that was becoming a pattern. You never would have worked with someone like Peacemaker on the outside. As much as you appreciated the job always getting done with him, you still bumped heads with him too much on the way to the finish line. He was frustratingly serious and flippant at the same time.

You decided to shut your trap before Waller decided she didn't need you anymore.

"You've got one skillset useful to me, [L/n]. I suggest you get used to the prospect of being paired up with Smith on a regular basis— While you're still around."

You nodded when she dismissed you. You had gotten used to it. You were seeing so much of Peacekeeper you were practically partners.

So, you pointedly sat to next the one called Javelin on the helicopter out of Belle Reve, as far away from Smith as possible. You were about to spend over twelve hours with him— It didn't have to start right away. While Colonel Flag gave you all the spiel on the mission, you glanced over and saw Javelin toss you a nod.

"You're Team B," The thrower noted over the whir of the helicopter. "[L/n], yes?"

"Yeah," you said. Your eyes flitted over the muscular squad member. He looked more like a superhero in his light blue and yellow get-up than the rest of you. You personally kept the lower half of your face covered with a black hard shell mask— Your armor from before you were incarcerated (Yes, you've heard the 'Baby Bane' jokes from the others). Even if you had to get used to working with a bunch of weirdos, you could at least conceal your face from them while you did it.

"You move very swiftly." He complimented, and you didn’t know how you were supposed to take that.

"Thanks," You tried, "I like your... weapon of choice?"

Javelin held his namesake in his arms, his legs spread wide to accommodate it as he rested it against his inner thigh. The innuendo normally would have had you rolling your eyes, but today they lingered, and you wondered if he still looked as broad and muscular without the suit on.

You frowned. Without the suit on?

Were you still staring down at his thighs?

You supposed he was a goddamn Olympic athlete at one point. And prison didn't seem to stop him from his regimen. —There it was again. You blinked and looked away, thankful nobody seemed to notice. Javelin seemed content with the brief introduction, so you left it at that.

Okay, so maybe it had been awhile since you...

You reprimanded yourself. These were not recreational outings. As much as you liked feeling free every once in awhile, you were never in a position to consider doing something so stupid. The last few missions were some of the closest calls you had while on the task force, but now that your job today was more about recon, you could at least let your mind wander to the less... imperative things. You crossed your legs at the ankles in front of you and let mind drift for the rest of the trip.

But christ had prison been rough. And a little boring. You didn’t have to think about Javelin moving closer to you for long— Pressing up flush against you— Before you were imagining yourself against a wall— Hell, right here on this bench— hooking your legs around his waist as he thrusted into you. You pictured him going for two, three rounds, that stupid suit lying on the floor with your back on top of it. You pictured him going down on you too, a handful of his wavy blonde hair in your grasp as you pressed your thighs around his ears. You swallowed behind the mask, glad it was there to hide your face.

You get dropped off an isolated point a few klicks outside the target area, the rest of the team traveling further in to handle the bulk of the mission. You lug some extra equipment in a canvas bag— Guns, surveillance tech— already annoyed by the heat.

The heat of the jungle. Definitely not the heat you'd been feeling in the helicopter. You walked a half mile in total silence just trying to focus on the mission again.

"What's got your tactical suit in a twist?" Smith finally uttered as you got to your destination. You almost forgot he had dropped down the rope onto the ground after you. He stood out against the green around you in his obnoxious red shirt and white pants.

"Nothing." You lied, and you could tell from under his helmet that Peacemaker thought you were full of shit today. Great.

You set up inside a small building— An outpost long abandoned. Whatever organization you were taking down for Waller, they clearly had to downsize over the years. You kicked open the metal door, sending it flying off its hinges. Smith entered first, clearing all the rooms before you joined him. Upstairs, you begin setting up the equipment together. Peacemaker started with standing up a rifle by the window, aiming it at the road below.

You fiddled with a tablet; You went downstairs to put a sensor on the door frame and on the rusted gate blocking the road outside. They were supposed to warn you when any vehicles were approaching, but when you came back up, it lost signal. You did this twice; You batted at the little screen, vexed. There were probably signal jammers over at the main compound that could still reach all the way out here. You thought about how Team A was doing— So inevitably, your thoughts drifted back to the damn Javelin guy.

"Jesus!" You snapped. You were grateful when you didn't break the small screen in half with your strength.

"Okay. What the fuck is wrong." Came Peacemaker's voice from across the room. You stood there without turning around. You took a breath, tossed the tablet onto the bag at your feet.

"Nothing is wrong, Smith. Fuck off." You said. You reached up and unclipped your vest. Beneath it, you felt the cool air of the shelter hit your jumpsuit. You tossed the vest on the floor, then turned around. "When are they supposed to get here?"

He quirked a brow, as if proving his point. Since when didn't you remember the mission details? Rather than give him the satisfaction of thinking you were slipping you waved your own question away.

"God, never mind."

He scoffed. You watched him remove his helmet and gloves, setting them down carefully next to his own pack. He'd made his own area across the room from yours, another tablet showing him a view of the road propped up against the wall. Smith took a seat on the floor; The two of you were going to have to play the waiting game now.

In silence. The thought made you pinch the bridge of your nose right above where your mask stopped.

"You know, I've been at Belle Reve for four years now." You finally relented. You leaned back against your wall, folding your arms over your chest.

"Yeah? So?" Smith retorted. You rolled your eyes.

"So," God— You were really confiding in Christopher Smith. That's what it was coming down to. "I haven't had sex in four years. It's... not a big deal— Nothing's wrong. That's just what I was annoyed about earlier, you know? Consider me over it."

"That why you were ogling the Javelin in the copter today?"

Shit. Shit!

You dropped your arms. "You piece of garbage. You saw that?"

"I'm garbage? You're the one sexually harassing our fellow teammates with your eyes."

"I was not sexually— Nope. I'm done. You're ridiculous." You said. You reached down and went back to your tablet, busying yourself with it idly.

Peacemaker did the same. From the corner of your eye, you just knew he was doing it smugly.

"You know," He said after a few minutes, "If that's all you're bitching about, we can just get it over with."

"Excuse me?"

"You and me. Target's not coming in for another six hours, by the way. You don't need that much time do you, 'four-years-dry'?"

You stared at him from across the room. When you didn't reply, Peacemaker set his screen down so damn casually you consider just shooting yourself in the head.

"You're off your game. I'm not going to let you compromise our objective."

You threw your hands up. "There it is. You're like a broken record."

"What? Am I fucking wrong?"

"No, you're fucking crazy."

"Get over here." Smith instructed in a low voice.

The words shot up your spine, sending a very mixed signal to your brain. Directly across from you, Peacemaker was pinning you with an expectant look— One that was clearly a challenge. It pissed you off.

It was the look he used when he said you couldn't rip a guy's spine right out of his back— It dared you. And when you did succeed, you would shoot him an equally smug look in return. Your back and forths were always crass, always a test of who would back down.

You weren't normally so brutal when you worked alone, but something about Peacemaker brought it out of you. Whenever you were paired together, it was like your powers weren't something you had to hold back. They were something he was always prodding you to embrace. The jabs, the snark— It made you want to punch him in the face.

Standing up, you crossed the room. Smith didn't move as you stepped over his legs, as you leaned down to straddle his waiting lap. He simply watched you shift around until you're comfortably seated, your hands resting on his shoulders. He moved to place his own on your thighs but didn't do anything more.

"Well?" You said.

He shrugged, "Your call."

"What am I gonna do? Dry hump you?"

"Hey, if that's what it takes."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "Fuck."

Finally, you reached up, unclipping the back of your mask.

"Whoa, wait—" He started, finally reacting to this ridiculous situation, but you already had it off, in your hand.

"I—" He stared at you. You shifted, feeling nervous as you stared back. It occurred to you that you'd never seen him shocked before.

He blinked. "I've never seen your whole face before."

That wasn't true— was it? You tried to think. "What about in Cuba? We camped out for like three days. I had to take it off to eat at least."

"I didn't look."

"You didn't look."

"I don't fucking know! You wear that fucking thing everywhere. When you took it off to eat I assumed you didn't want me looking."

"Wow. How courteous."

"Fuck you."

"Well, isn't that what we're doing here?" You said, putting your hands on your hips stubbornly. Smith's were still resting on your splayed thighs.

"I can't wear this when we— How am I supposed to...?"

He snorted softly, "Don't tell me you're a romantic, [L/n]."

Nothing about this seemed romantic. Least of all with him. Still, if you were going to take the opportunity, you were going to do it your way. You looked him over.

He had a few tufts sticking out from wearing his damn helmet earlier. You reached up and brushed some of it back into place at his temple first. Smith blinked up at you, his brows pinching together.

"This okay?" You heard yourself asking him. He eventually nodded once, watching you as you placed your palm on the side of his face. Finally, you leaned down and caught his lips with yours in a long kiss. You squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting to know his reaction.

But you felt him return it. Slowly at first— Then he was kissing you back. You moaned somewhere in the back of your throat as he ran his large hands up and down your legs, his fingers folding to grip your ass tightly. You were already reacting, already so touched starved. His lips parted, and you felt him swipe his tongue across your bottom lip, over the front of your teeth. You opened for him, your tongue darting out to meet his hungrily.

You tugged at the front of his uniform. Without a word he reached down to pull it up over his head, the fabric dropping off somewhere beside you. You glanced down at his bare chest. You ran your hands over it, dragged your nails down his pecs experimentally. When you looked back up he was still watching you.

Your mouths crashed to meet again, this time with a fervor that threatened to split your bottom lip with every bruising kiss. You felt his hands on you again, pressing into your sides, your waist. He didn't move to take off your clothes, so you drew your hands to your own chest, pulled the zipper of your suit all the way down to your stomach.

He took the invitation, and you gasped when he roughly reaches in and cups a hand around your breast; He kneaded it, brushing his thumb over your nipple. His other hand worked at your shoulder, yanking the rest of your suit off of you. You reached back and tugged the sleeves off, finally exposing your upper body.

You felt the clasp at your back come undone, and Smith was tearing your bra off next. A muscular arm came around to scoop you up by the waist, bringing your chest closer to him. He leaned down, took one of your nipples into his mouth.

"Smith—" He bit you roughly, and it sent a shock of electricity up you. He palmed your other breast again, tweaked at your nipple until your back was arching into his touch. You squeezed your thighs around him.

Then he was back in your face again, bruising a kiss against your lips as you took a breath. Your eyes flew open when you felt the press of his fingers to your mouth. You shot a look at him, but didn't object when he pushed his index and middle fingers past your lips. You sucked them hungrily, your eyes fluttering shut again.

"Fuck," Peacemaker murmured, feeling your tongue swirl around the digits. You slurped sloppily until they were soaked, until he was pulling them back out with a light pop. He brought his hand down to the base of your suit, where the zipper stopped just above your pelvis. A pair of black panties peaked out from the V shape there, the same shade and material as your bra. You gasped when Smith finally pushed down past the layer of cotton, gripped his bare shoulders when you felt his wet fingers dip right into your cunt.

"Fuck," He said again, because you didn't need any help down there. "You're so fucking wet."

You expected to feel humiliation— To hear a joke about how it really had been while. But all you felt were his warm, thick fingers; He ran them up and down your slit, pressed them in small circles around the peak of you a few times. You cursed, your head falling back. Smith leaned up to kiss your throat, teeth dragging across the base of your collarbone. He bit you some more, daring to take your meta-human skin between his teeth. You cried out, your arm reaching to wrap around his head in pleasure.

Smith slid his fingers up into your pussy. He crooked them, scissoring them inside you. Your hips bucked, unable to resist meeting his short thrusts. You felt him grin against your neck. "Damn, baby."

"Shut up." You whispered, letting your hips rolling down to fuck yourself on his fingers some more. When he slipped in a third you moan loudly.

"Fuck! Fuck me." You demanded, yanking the short hair at the back of his head. A groan left Smith's lips, his head jerking back. Quickly, he removed his hand from your suit, pulling the rest of your clothes further down your waist. You lifted yourself off him, but Smith didn't wait. He picked you up and lifted you both off the floor. You grabbed at him as he laid you down on your back, his body between your legs. Then he was ripping off the last of your suit, tearing your boots off.

"Watch it," You snapped— If he fucking ripped anything you—

"Oh please." He huffed, and your thoughts stopped in their tracks as you watched him lean back on his knees above you, undoing his white pants. His cock sprang free from a pair of just as white underwear, his arousal already thick and ready. You stopped yourself from expressing how the sight of him made you even wetter.

He took a moment to drink in your face, a hint of that smug smirk forming. You growled, pulling him down by the neck again before he ruined the moment with speaking. Smith caught your lips again, his hand running down your naked body. He gripped one of your legs and nudges them apart, planting his knees between you.

Despite his earlier preparation, it was nothing compared to the feeling of his cock pushing inside you. You groaned as he entered you, your walls stretching around his length. Your back arched as you took him in, eyes rolling a little into the back of your head.

"Fuck— Chris—" You shuttered. His hands squeezed your thighs at the sound of his name leaving you. You heard his breath shake, his hips remaining utterly still as you got used to the size of him. Opening your eyes, you looked up to see him waiting for you; You nodded once, another moaning already escaping in anticipation.

It was like a brick wall knocking into you. Smith didn't hold back as he began fucking you— Knew you could take it— what with your powers and all. The idea seemed to drive him, and he began hammering into you, his hands moving to bracket your hips so he could fuck you better. Faster. Your legs wrapped around his waist.

Fuck— You couldn't think. You arched up off of the floor as you rolled your hips to meet Smith's. It felt like he could keep up this pace forever the way he wasn't stopping. Your breathing turned to panting, a high whine escaping you when he shifts just right— he picked you up again. You arched up into his arms, holding yourself up from around his neck as he fucked up into your soaking cunt. You bounced on his cock, a sheen of sweat blooming across your skin.

When you opened your eyes, Smith was still watching you intently— witnessing every little expression on your face while he fucked you. You could hardly discern what he was thinking. All you could focus on was him ramming you, the feeling of his cock hitting and stretching you out.

“Choke me.” He said, and you have just enough wherewithal to oblige. You wrapped your hand around his throat, pressing firmly on either side. You felt the tightness of his skin shifting under your touch. His pulse beat a fast rhythm in time with his rough thrusts. The strength of your grip was a little vice tipping Smith over the edge.

The look on his face, his eyes closed as he tried to control his breathing sends a jolt up you. You used your other hand to slip two fingers down between your folds. They found your clit, making quick work of bringing you to close to climaxing. You shuttered as you felt the tight coil of it building. Finally, with a cry you were coming, squeezing your legs around him as your hips rolling through every wave of it. Smith groaned, picking up the pace, fucking you through your orgasm until your walls were fluttering from the unrelenting stimulation.

“Going to—“ He warned, and you squeezed the hand around his throat harder, making his eyes roll up. You whimpered as you feel the hot spurt of him fill you, his hips finally locking as he pumped you with his cum.

You both took a moment to catch your breath, your hand releasing from Smith’s neck so he could take in a long gasp. His skin was reddened along his throat and chest. You saw the beginnings of your handprint bruising around his Adam's apple, your fingers a mark on his skin. You hung onto him like that, your arms back around his shoulders for balance.

“Fuck.” You finally said. Out of habit, you checked your watch to assess where you were on the mission. He took your chin in his hand, drawing your eyes back up to him. You saw that his hair had fallen back into his eyes, his face glistening with sweat.

“I’m not done with you.” He said. It sent a shiver through you. You felt your walls flutter again, some of his cum leaking out with his half-hard cock still firm inside you. You gasped as he pulled you off of him, guiding you down until you were turning around on all fours on the floor. You glanced over your shoulder, already craving the feeling of him filling you up with his cock again.

And fuck it, you two do take the whole six hours.

#peacemaker #peacemaker x reader #peacemaker x you #Christopher smith #dceu smut #dceu fanfiction #I don't know what happened; I had ideas for some dialogue between peacekeeper and reader and it turned into thiS #peacemaker smut #smut #mywords*

482 notes · View notes

psychogirlfriendandsupervillain · 3 years

Text

Leading Question

One shot (ish)

Benny Watts x Reader*

(* Reader wears a skirt, has hair long enough to pull (like anything longer than a buzzcut) and a vagina, so anyone who identifies with that: it’s free real estate. I am considering writing a copy that is fully gender-neutral, so if anyone wants that let me know (although I’m likely to do it anyway).)

Content/warning tags: NSFW, 18+, Smut (but it’s the slowest pacing smut, talking slow-burn but they’re both already in the bed, no joke), fluff?, friends to lovers, mention of alcohol, swearing, oral (male receiving), making out, heavy petting, really a whole lotta kissing, porn with no plot?, the porn is the plot, foreplay more like half the fucking play, hair pulling kink, mention of knife kink, sex, plotted during a figurative and literal fever, edited during a figurative and literal heat wave, we love it here.

Summary: Benny half-confesses to his attraction to the reader during a night at the bar and reader takes his clumsily put question and turns it into a homerun.

Word Count: 7k (this is what happens when you give me THAT and then take it away)

A/N: Entirely self-indulgent piece of smut thought out during two hours at 4 AM (and then throughout the rest of the day) the day after watching Fork, because I was frustrated and Benny is hot, whoopsie.

@go-catch-a-chickn showed some interest in what I was writing, but I bet you regret that now! Nonetheless, here’s your tag, have fun!

I’m open to criticism, just shoot me a message or an ask. Let me know if I’ve got errors or missed a warning.

--------

You and Benny were friends since high school. Not because you also played chess, but because you had been making out with your boyfriend in the back of the library and Benny had come looking for a chess book that was on the shelf you were leaning on. You two paused, moved to the side so that he could pull out the book and then he was on his way.

A few days later Benny was in the cafeteria and came up a few cents short, when a voice next to him told the woman at the register that they would pay for his meal as well as their own. He looked over at you as the cashier added your things to the total and you smiled.

“Now you have money over for other things.”

It continued like that for the rest of both of your high school stays. You would catch him in the corridor and strike up conversations before heading off for you next class. When your relationship with your boyfriend ended (mutually, it should be said; he was interested in another girl, you felt the spark wasn’t there anymore), you told Benny after he asked why you looked a little glum. He was supportive but didn’t bring it up again.

Now the two of you are sat at a bar counter, a bottle in front of each of you, as the day is winding down. You meet up like this between his tournaments and whatever else is going on your lives, touchdowns in the well-known amidst it all. The buzz of patrons has calmed down and outside the curtained windows the street is black, broken up by spots of the streetlights.

“Do you-“ Benny stops. He’s half turned towards you, left hand around his beer on the counter, legs facing you, but his eyes are currently at the bottles lined up against the back wall where the bartender is pouring a drink for someone down the line.

You put down your bottle after a sip, resting your hand on it just like he is. Benny starts again.

“What do you do when your dick tells you to sleep with your friend, but your brain tells you it’s not a good idea?” He’s still not looking at you. It’s almost a hypothetical, almost a thought about someone else.

You shrug, taking a last sip before turning forward.

“I don’t know, I follow what my pussy says.” With that you get up and put money on the counter to close your tab, seeing Benny jump in the corner of your eye at your answer. You’re pulling on your coat as you start for the door, slow enough that he’ll catch up no problem.

“Wait.” He’s at your side in no time. “I’ll walk you to your place.” Even in the slight shade of his hat you can see that he’s a bit flustered.

“You sure?” Benny nods. “Otherwise I could walk you to yours. It’s farther.” You push up the inner set of doors and Benny follows you into the dark airlock entryway.

“Why would you want to walk where it’s farther?” He asks behind you, a frown audible in his voice, and you hold up your hand to signal for him to wait as you push up the second set of doors.

The air rushes against you and the hum of a road somewhere off campus reaches your ears. There’s no one on the walk path running between fields of grass and lines of trees. It’s still too early for the streets to be filled with people getting home from the bars, too late for any overtime workers dragging their feet.

“Honestly?” You turn to Benny, who’s standing with his coat still unbuttoned and arms hanging at his sides, like he isn’t sure what to do with them. “Because I’m hoping to get invited up, and if I’m going to get fucked, I want to be in your bed, surrounded by the scent of you.”

It takes a second. Then he’s a little bit closer. Not that he was far away before, but he’s close enough that when he leans a little forward you don’t have to take a step to close the gap. Your lips run against his, soft and slow, with the slight scratch of his mustache against your skin, warm cotton and leather so close now, and then you step back, absentmindedly swiping your tongue over your own lips to chase his taste. His eyes flicker between your eyes and your lips.

“Your place or mine?” Benny’s voice is a little rough; maybe it’s the drinking, maybe it’s the kiss.

“Again, yours.” You quirk your lip and reach to catch Benny’s hand, warm in yours. Pulling him into motion you start walking in the direction of his apartment, shoes echoing against the asphalt.

“I’m not sure I will make it that far.” He sounds a bit tortured, and you laugh, squeezing his hand.

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you make it. And if you don’t, I’ll help you clean up and wait for you.”

Benny makes a noise.

“Tell me about Open Sicilian.” You look forward at the empty road as you walk.

“What?” He looks at you.

“To distract you, explain Open Sicilian to me.” He has explained that particular tactic to you several times before, not that it necessarily stuck too well.

“That’s not going to help!” Benny throws head back with a frustrated laugh. The sound makes your stomach flutter. “You’re going to make me tell you about chess, and then ask questions, to keep me distracted? Like you showing sincere interest in it isn’t going to just make it harder to focus.” He shakes his head, looking out over the empty street. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You would have gotten there quicker if Benny hadn’t stopped at every tree, stone wall, and doorway to push you against it and kiss you. He even sat down on a bench when you were halfway and pulled you down into his lap. You let yourself be pulled down but wouldn’t go along with his attempts to make you straddle him, despite his hand on your inner thigh through your skirt and his insistent, chasing kisses.

As you reach the building you let go off Benny’s hand so he can punch in the code for the door. He leads you up the hollow stairwell to his door, noisily unlocks it and lets you in before him.

It’s a short hallway with doors leading off to the kitchen, bathroom, and bedroom, lit by some cool light falling in from the open doorway to the kitchen. There are hooks for jackets with a pile of shoes beneath it to one side, and a table holding a phone and newspapers further in.

The lock clicks behind you and Benny turns around, dropping his keys back down in his coat pocket. Just as he faces you, you push him back against the door. Shock flashes in his eyes and his lips part but when you place your against his he quickly responds, pushing back against you, his tongue running against your bottom lip, inviting you to taste it. It’s with difficulty that you pull back.

“Okay, I lied.” You admit as you get onto your knees, looking back up at him. “Can I?”

Benny’s breaths are unsteady, and you have to ask him to repeat it before you can clearly hear him consent.

You hum, pushing aside his leather coat to hold his hips back against the door, pulling his belt out from its loops so you can undo the buckle. Benny closes his eyes and groans as you let the belt with his knife still attached fall back against his legs and undo his button and zipper.

“Don’t be too loud, you don’t want the neighbors to hear you, do you? Even solid wood doors are thinner than walls.” You wink up at him and he repeats the sound, head leaning back against the door and hips pushing forward. If you didn’t believe Benny before, you definitely would now, as you feel how hard he is through the barriers of fabric. He’s solid and warm against your hands.

Pushing his jeans down, you move his boxers carefully until you can pull them down as well. Precum is leaking down the underside of his erect cock and his hips push forward again, impatiently this time. You circle your hand around him, the other resting against his hip so that maybe he’ll stay in place, not having the patience to start stroking before you take him in your mouth.

The sound Benny makes when your lips close around his cock is far too loud and not loud enough. His breathing audibly speeds up, encouraging you to run your tongue along the underside each time you pull back. Sucking down his cock, you match your movements with those of your hand, creating just the perfect rhythm that has his hips pushing against your other hand. You look up at him, meeting his eyes as you circle his tip with your tongue and he pinches his eyes closed, turning his head back up and cutting off the whine escaping his throat. You swallow around him, and the whine comes back, ending in a high pitch. You do it again. His hand pushes lightly against your shoulder, and you pull off him, sitting back and licking your lips as he meets your eyes.

“I don’t want to finish before we’ve even started.” His words are low, his hand falling back against the side of his coat. You shift your legs on the floor.

“Shame, I want you to.” You smile and bite your lip. “I told you I’d help clean you up and wait after. I’m in no rush.” Benny’s hips jerk forward again.

“Fuck” His eyes flutter shut.

“Can I?” You wait for the sound of his yes before you lick a line from the base to the head, reveling in how little he is holding back this time. Pushing his hips back a little rougher against the door to keep him in his place you earn a moan of your name which has your stomach fluttering and head spinning. One of his hands rest on your shoulder again but isn’t pushing away this time. He lets you decide the speed, albeit with the occasional jerk of his hips as he hisses and braces against the door.

“Fuck, I’-” You feel Benny tensing and look up to see him looking down on you, breathing heavily and clenching his jaw. “Fuck” He slams his head back against the door, hips pushing him further in, and you can feel the vibrations emitting from his chest all the way in the back of your throat as he releases into your mouth. You swallow it down, catching the whimper Benny makes at the feeling it gives his cock.

When you get to your feet, Benny head is hanging so the brim of his hat casts his face in shadow and he’s leaning so heavily against the door you’re not sure he’ll be standing much longer. His breathing is loud in the quiet apartment, and you can’t help the pride growing in the back of your mind. Still breathing heavily, Benny finally lifts his head enough to look at you. You meet his eyes and swipe your tongue over your lips.

His eyes flicker down to follow the movement and he groans, slumping back against the door. You smile triumphantly.

“Let’s get your clothes back on and then I’ll get water.” You help Benny get his pants back on, refastening the buckle. He’s not standing entirely stable, but enough that you can slide his coat down his arms and hang it up, followed by his hat, before you sit him down on a stool right by the door. Having hung up your own coat and switched on the lights you gesture to the kitchen door. “Do you mind?” Benny shakes his head, blond hair falling in his eyes.

You fill two glasses from the tap, throwing a glance at your watch, before returning to him. Handing one to Benny you drink the other, both of you listening to him regaining control over his breathing while you empty the glasses. As you take your last sip you place both on the hallway table and toe off your shoes.

“Want to move out of the hallway?” You hold your hand out to Benny and he’s standing before you’ve had a chance to blink.

You get precisely two steps into Benny’s bedroom before he’s kissing you again. His tongue runs softly against yours, contrasting with the scratch of his beard. He won’t even let you move forward, blocking you with his body until his hands have found their place on your hips, and even then standing stronger than you’d expect from how he looked a minute ago.

Every kiss he chases after you, when you move to the side so does he, when your tongue touches his lips his tongue comes to greet it. It’s overwhelming and intoxicating, his body heat rising and seeping through his button up and your shirt, the warm scent of leather still lingering in the air around him.

Then Benny moves backwards, pulling you with him three quick steps, refusing to let your lips part for even a second, and lets you fall on top of him on his bed.

You pull back, insisting despite his protests. He managed to switch some light on before getting lost in you, letting you full appreciate the shine in his dark eyes when he looks up at you as you brush blond strands out of his eyes. Flittering over you above him, they keep coming back to meet yours, a playful smile on his lips. You lean back down and let him capture your lips again, his hands splaying one on your back, one running up and down your side. Chasing his smile you kiss the corners of his mouth, dipping your tongue in to meet his. It’s like you’ll never run out of places to taste him.

Straightening back up and moving so you’re straddling him, you undo the first buttons of your shirt, but Benny’s hands stop yours, taking over their work with slow precision. He pulls you back down so he can continue kissing you even if it makes it harder for him to get the buttons undone, not that that seems his top priority. Sitting up and sliding the fabric down your arms Benny throws it in some corner of the room, pulling you closer against him by your hips.

“Easy, tiger.” You hum against his lips and Benny laughs a little, shifting further back on the bed and letting you both fall back against the mattress again, arms wrapped securely around your waist.

His necklaces are cool against your skin, but his hands are on fire. They run over your back and sides, up one down the other, and leave nothing but further fires under your skin. Even his rings don’t feel cold as Benny brushes his fingers up your arm to cup your head, tongue skimming your lip but withdrawing whenever you try to catch it.

Pulling back for the first time, Benny looks up at you with a mischievous smile.

“If I had known telling you I like you would lead to this, I would’ve told you already five years ago.”

Not that you’d really been open to anything at that time. Five years ago, and the five that followed, you had been entirely focused on your academics, and the only person you really hung out with had been Benny. He brought his chess books and sat with you in the library while you read up for exams. You’d chat about everything while trying to cram every bit of knowledge into your tired brains. That really only slowed down once you graduated, the hyper-focus on reading every book and spending hours writing notes over bad coffee.

“Do you want to like” You look up at the head pillows laying vertically to your bodies, and Benny starts laughing, luring you into doing the same. “move up?”

“Sure” He lets go of you so you can both get higher on the bed, but the second you’re close enough Benny pulls you back over him. “Better?”

“Much, thank you.” You smile and lean down halfway. Amused you watch Benny push up to meet you, hungry lips convincing you to push him back down into the mattress.

You can’t help the occasional shifting of your hips against his, underwear pushing against the friction of jeans below your skirt. His hands skim the hem of it, but never ventures below it, favoring to run up to your hips and draw you closer.

Running his hands up your back to hold you against him, Benny rolls you over onto your back. Settling between your legs, he braces one arm above you while the other cups the side of your head, lifting just enough for your lips to reach his.

“You know, for later, we’re still on your bed.” You remind him before kissing the corner of his mouth. Benny’s lips quirk and he follows you back down against the pillow.

“I know.” He runs his nose along the side of your neck, the chains around his sliding against your skin. Warm cotton and leather surround you, and this might actually be heaven.

Pushing back a bit Benny reaches up to undo his green button up but stops when you give him a look.

“Isn’t it my turn now?”

Benny lets go off the button and shows his hands, dropping them to your hips as you reach up, undoing the first button before pulling him down by his collar. His smile meets yours, and it only gets bigger for every button, as the release of each is met with the same celebration.

When there are no more buttons to open you slide the fabric out from his pants and down his bare arms. Holding the shirt out in one hand you look at Benny, whose eyes are locked on yours, his lips kiss-bruised.

“Does this have to be folded on a chair” You tilt your head. “or can I just throw it?”

“Throw it.” His eyes sparkle, his voice hitting a little lower and sending vibrations where your body is touching his.

The green fabric flutters to rest at the far end corner of the bed in your peripheral vision. You weren’t really looking where you were throwing.

“It didn’t even get off the bed.” You speak very seriously, as if it was a grave matter, but you’re absorbed by Benny, whose eyes are as stuck in yours as yours are in his. “If you want it off, you’ll have to throw it yourself.”

His arms shift above you, and without moving away from you or breaking eye contact Benny kicks the shirt, sending it tumbling of the edge with a soft thud as it hits the floor. You push your hips up against his, the hilt of the knife at his belt pressing against the inside of your thigh. Benny’s hips thrust back against yours and he lowers down to brush his lips against yours before devouring you again. Your thighs slide against his bare skin, and he reaches back to hook them further over his hips, swiping his tongue along yours. When Benny pulls back slightly the sound he makes fills the room, bouncing off the walls. The end of it mixes with the sigh of his name pulled from your lips as he dips the tip of his tongue into the corner of your mouth.

“Think we’ll wake the neighbors?” You lift off the bed to chase after him, not giving him a chance to reply, pushing him over onto his back. His hips shift against yours as he settles into the mattress.

“The walls are thicker than the door.” He looks up at you straddling him, his lips quirking up into a smile, blond hair falling over his eyes again. Satisfied with his answer you lower your body back down over his, occupying his mouth with yours again.

From slow, insistent kisses where Benny’s tongue runs against yours, you move to kiss the corners of his lips, his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, his forehead, and his eyelids as he closes his eyes. Continuing down his chin, alternatingly placing kisses on either side of his neck, and one at the dip at the base of his throat, passing over his chains, you shift back to trail down the right side of his chest. As your lips touch between navel and the top of his jeans, brushing along the fabric, Benny touches the side of your head.

“Don’t you dare do it again.” His tone is light and teasing, with just an edge of breathlessness and seriousness.

You move up to kiss his left hip and his hand falls back onto the mattress.

“I won’t.”

You trail back up Benny’s irregularly moving chest, out his right upper arm, and lift his hand. Pressing two more soft kisses to his inner forearm, you place one in the middle of his palm and one to the tip of each finger, before beginning again at his sternum and doing the same to his left arm.

Raising back up you push Benny’s hair from his eyes, inviting the light to dance with the sparks already in them.

“Benny Watts, you are a drug.” You smile a little breathlessly and shake your head down at him. The corners of Benny’s mouth start to raise, and he quickly swipes his tongue up to pull down his upper lip and bites down on his lower.

His attempts fail and when you kiss Benny, he’s beaming, a satisfied sound emitting from the chest pressed against yours. His heartbeats translate through your ribcage and your sentiment is repeated in your mind with a flutter in your stomach.

Ringed hands shift from your hips to your back to hold you closer against him. Somehow, you’ve forgotten Benny’s knife because you can’t even feel it at this point. You only feel the friction of his body against your, the pull of his lips.

“You should be in prison.” His tongue swipes into your mouth at that, stalling your continuation with a dizzying taste. “You should be in jail, and I should be in the same cell with you.” The vibrations of Benny’s laugh and twist of his lips reach your senses at the same time as the push of his hips. Combined they’re enough to make you say his name against his lips, repeating it when he does it again.

Lifting off the mattress Benny’s hands holds your hips down against his as he sits up, lips running down the side of your neck when they slip from yours. The scratches against your skin turn into fire running through your veins, out into your arms and fingertips as you run them over his bare shoulders, along the chains around his neck. You barely hear the sound of your name slip from his tongue against the crook of your shoulder, before Benny turns to make you fall first back into the mattress.

Benny’s hands run from your hips to the hem of your skirt, warm fingers tracing bare skin. You lift your hips against his and he pulls back, but only after sucking your lip into his mouth, swiping it with his tongue.

“Want me to get it off?”

“It’s mostly in the way at this point.” Having gotten his answer, Benny eases the skirt down, letting you lift your hips and moving so he’s not in the way. When it’s all the way off he throws the fabric the same way as your shirt, or maybe the opposite. You can’t remember.

Leaning back over you Benny brushes his lips against yours, meeting you when you arch up against him, then lets himself kiss you fully again. His hips push yours down into the mattress before he pulls them back up towards him. You roll back against him, crossing your legs behind Benny’s back, and he hisses against your lips. The sound of you saying his name causes the grind of his hips to stutter, restart, a low sound resonating in his chest, sending its aftershocks through your body as his hands squeeze your thighs a little harder.

One moves to skim the inside of your knee, hot fingers with warm rings running over equally heated skin. When it reaches the junction of your thigh and hip it slides up along the edge of your underwear and then drops beside your side to support his weight as Benny brings his other hand to hover between your legs and pulls away from your lips.

“Can I?” His dark eyes shimmer.

“Yes.” Since you can’t hear your own voice over the increased speed of your heartbeat you repeat it twice, catching the way Benny’s tongue darts out over his bottom lip as his eyes flicker down.

He runs his knuckles down the slick, wet fabric. You think you hear a breathed-out curse but are distracted when fingertips retrace the same path with just enough pressure to make your hips roll against them. The feeling is dizzying, your breathing skips. Benny’s dark eyes flick back up to yours. Then he does it again, sending sparks where the pads of his fingers almost touch you. Your eyes almost flutter at the way he looks at you when your breathing stops again to become what might have been a curse, or his name, or the curse of his name. The last one in particular feels likely as the sound twists and grows louder, and Benny’s eyes are locked on yours.

Pressing back into his bed you roll your hips against his, his hands planted back on either side of you as he lowers back down to press starved kisses to your mouth. Hips lift off yours, only to change their mind and push back down, accompanied by a curse against the corner of your lips. When Benny’s bottom lip slides against yours, you pull it into your mouth and lightly push down your teeth into it. His left arm buckles as you swallow the sound of his groan.

With little effort you coax Benny onto his back. He willingly falls down onto the pillow, rings sliding against your back as he tries to entice you into press against him. His fingers trail down, skimming along the edge of your underwear until they reach the front, barely touching the waistband, eyes flicking up to yours.

You give permission before Benny even has a chance to open his mouth.

The pads of his fingers push past the fabric, running softly your body until your breathing hitches as they lightly slip over your clit. You resist the urge to close your legs around his hand but can’t help the way your breathing audibly increases when it moves further down. Bare skin slides against your wet folds, stroking up and down; the movement slow and deliberate, and far too good for you hold it out for much longer.

You make a sound.

“Explain Closed Sicilian to me.” Your voice is strained, and you are trying very hard to not focus on every slight change in pressure Benny is subjecting you to right now. Another noise slips out and you bury your face against his chest, rolling your hips involuntarily against his hand. “Please, please explain it to me.”

“Now?” Benny’s other hand pushes against your hip.

“If you don’t, I’m going to come, and I’ve waited this long so I’d rather you didn’t do that before you’re actually inside me.” You lift your head to look up at him, quickly adding “Then again, you talking about that is just going to make it worse, so maybe don’t.” You did not need his eyes lighting up and his confidence going thrice its size because he was talking about something he really, really liked. That was bound to make your situation become much better and much worse really quick.

Benny looks like he’s about to protest before making a face and withdrawing his hand.

“Alright, fine.” He rolls you onto your back and kisses you hard, raising his hips as much as possible but keeping you down with his chest.

Letting you up to breathe Benny’s hands go to his belt, pulling it fully out of the loops this time. He catches the handle off his knife as it slides off the leather and off-handedly places it down on your stomach so he can roll the leather around his hand.

You must have done something as the sheath fell flat or as your eyes shifted up and back down again because Benny’s eyes flick from the belt in his hands to your eyes and then he smiles.

“Don’t tell me you’ve got a thing for knives too.” He teases.

“Listen” You’re a little too breathless for any type of denying being at all believable and it’s visible in Benny’s eyes how little he would actually believe you if you tried. “Messing with that takes practice and discussions, so let’s put a pin in that. I like seeing you get off, let’s leave it at that for now.”

He tilts his head like ‘fair enough’, finishes rolling up his belt and puts both that and the knife out of view to your left.

You reach up to brush Benny’s hair to the side where it’s over his eyes again, letting your fingers linger just above his ear. There’s something very recognizable about the slight way his eyes move at the gesture.

“Do you- like having your hair pulled?” You ask tentatively, and when Benny doesn’t answer right away you continue “You don’t have to say yes.”

It takes a second longer, and you start to pull your hand away before he shifts his eyes away and rolls his shoulders.

“So what if I do?” Benny glances back at you.

“I’ll tell you what” You smile encouraging, guiding the topic to focus on yourself instead to make him more comfortable. “you’d be in good hands; I like it both ways.” Benny visibly relaxes but you don’t move your hand back, favoring to slide it along his jaw to stop below his lower lip.

Softly tilting his head down, you give the slightest pressure. He follows down to peck your lips before drawing back to meet look at you again, hands rubbing reassuringly over your thighs. The pad of your thumb rests against Benny’s bottom lip, and you tilt your head, trying to read out the thoughts that form and disperse behind his eyes. The corner of his lip quirks up and he dips his head down to catch the finger in his mouth. The flat of his tongue maps your fingerprint, a teasing glint in his eyes.

You make a noise, shooting him a glare as he looks far too smug when you pull your hand back to press it against his back instead. The expression doesn’t leave his lips when you push his side to get him down, as a matter of fact he looks offensively at home against his pillow, shuffling further into it before beaming up at you again. Unable to stop yourself you scoff, trying to look annoyed but failing spectacularly.

“Think you’re ready to go again, if you want to?” You look at your watch, pinching the face of the clock to keep it so you can read the time. “It’s been an hour.”

“You still have your watch on?” Benny reaches up to pull your arm down so he can look at it.

You laugh.

“Well, you didn’t take it off me.” You let him turn your hand over, undoing the watch and looking at it for a second before handing it to you. Leaning over him you put it on the empty nightstand to your left.

“I’m so glad you’ve got two nightstands.” You hum, leaning back to resettle over his hips.

Thinking for a second, Benny makes a face, a mixture between a frown and scrunching up his face.

“It doesn’t make sense to only have one nightstand.” He states, eyes flicking back to yours. Smiling at his answer you bend down to peck his lips.

“That’s what I like about you, Benny Watts. Things can’t just be for you; they have to make sense.” Continuing in the same light tone you add “I might even go as far as to say I love you.”

“Woah, you’re just gonna show your hand like that?” Benny mimics shock, before smiling, his hands rubbing your hips reassuringly. “Throw the whole game?” You snort a little, moving your eyes to the wall, schooling your expression to be serious.

“As if you didn’t show your hand back at the bar.” You tilt your head exaggerated, pretend thought. “And earlier, now that you mention it.”

“I said liked.” Just like you, Benny is pressing his lips together to prevent himself from laughing, and even then, a smile cracks through.

“I’ll give you that, you did say like.”

Benny pulls you down, kissing you with a smile. Letting yourself sink into it you push down against him, swallowing the sound he makes and feeling his heart beating through his chest. His hands pull your hips closer to his to repeat the motion. His breathing increases as you do it infinitely slower this time, feeling you press against him, although you can’t say you are doing any better.

“Ready?” You laugh breathlessly and Benny groans, pushing his head back into the pillows.

“I was ready half an hour ago.”

“Well, good sex takes preparation. And this is going to be good.” Straightening up you putting the base of your hand on Benny’s chest, holding your index in front of his face to shush him. “No, no, it’s going to be, because I’ll make it so.”

Instead of arguing, with sparkling eyes Benny favors to bend his head forward and close his mouth around your finger, sucking while you talk. His tongue swirls around the digit and the corner of his lips quirk up when you make a sound, mind drifting before you catch it.

“Asshole.” Benny’s eyes light up mischievously at that, and when you pull your hand back, he raises his eyebrows.

“Oh you wan-?”

You cut him off.

“Shut up.” The bed shakes with Benny’s laughter, and you roll your eyes, shaking your head at him. He’s really having too much fun.

When his laughter calms down, Benny looks at you for a second before sitting up.

“Come on”

He nudges you sideways until you get the hint and get off him, letting him get off the bed. Benny offers his hand to pull you up after him. When you’re both on your feet he turns back and in one quick motion rips off the covers, throwing the corner to the middle so the bed is folded half-open diagonally but not all the way down.

You’re just letting your underwear drop onto the floor when Benny turns back around, and he catches up with you in the time it takes you to blink. He holds his hand out again, pulling you with him backwards.

Jut before his legs hit the bed Benny sidesteps, pulling you down first onto the bed and following, catching himself on his arm so he doesn’t fall directly on top of you.

Settling between your legs, Benny tilts his head with a cheeky smile.

“Comfortable now?”

You make a show of settling into the pillow, trying to divert his attention from the way you pull air deep into your lungs. It’s in the pillow, the sheets, the air vibrating around you with tension, but most of all it’s above you, radiating from him. The warm, slightly sweet, smell of clean cotton shirts pulled from the tumbler, a bed slept in until well past noon, and sun-heated leather in the first days of summer.

“Yes.” You smile up at him.

“Good.” Benny lowers down over you and presses his lips to yours, tongue running over your lip once before slipping into your mouth. You hum while he pulls protection from a drawer of one of the nightstands above your field of vision and pulls it on.

Fingers skim lightly over the wetness gathered between your legs, and then Benny pushes into you. It sends lightning through your stomach, sliding slowly, almost torturously, against sensitive nerve endings. His breath is slow and controlled, albeit a bit wavering. Solid warmth spreads from his body into yours and your body clenches involuntarily around him when he stills, breath warming the side of your neck. Your hands run up his sides to find purchase.

“You’re gonna mark me?” You ask the ceiling and Benny shifts, running his nose against your throat and giving you chills.

“You want me to?” His hips pull back slightly, and you close your eyes at the slow drag of his cock against your inner walls. As Benny pushes back in, one hand disappears from beside you, moving your hand from his back to his hair. Sparks dance up your spine when he thrusts a little quicker, igniting you both like a match against a striking surface. Benny makes a sound in the back of his throat before kissing you again.

Carding your fingers through his hair near his scalp you pull lightly. The way his hips jerk forward has you arching against him, moan mixing with his. Tension builds in your stomach and if the room was hot before it is blazing now. Benny presses against you, overwhelming and perfect, filling you. Your hips lift off the bed to meet his, legs crossed behind his back to pull him closer. The drag of his abdomen against you in just the right place has you whining against his lips. His next thrust is faster, causing your body to clench down, approaching the edge fast.

“I’ve waited this long to fuck a master; you better not make this be over quick.” Your hips arch against his despite your breathless words.

“You call an hour and a half quick?” Benny asks in disbelief, but the roll of his hips slows to delightfully slow, burning pulls. He closes his eyes, breathing becomes deliberately slowed. “I’m not going to last long no matter how slow I go.”

“That’s okay, neither am I.” You quirk the corner of your lip as Benny opens his eyes again and pull him back down to your lips. Trying to starve of your orgasm you focus on tasting every corner of his mouth. It seems to have the opposite effect on Benny, as he whines and his hips stutter. One of his arms buckle and you pull your hand free to direct his to your hair before going back to his.

The first slow drag releases a satisfied noise from you, and the slight sting of the next sends a thrill down your body, connecting with where Benny’s cock pushes into you. He slides his tongue against yours, pulling your head close to his.

“Fuck” The word falls from both of your mouths as your fingers pulls the blond strands they’re tangled in, and Benny’s hips jerk forward. You push your hand against his lower back to push him down, deeper, and he pulls your hips up with his free hand, grinding against you. His eyes glitter with pride when you arch, pressing your head into the pillow, mouth falling open.

Unsatisfied, Benny slows even further, changing thrusts for slow grinds, watching you trying to make a sound with a smile, heels pressing into his lower back. Your eyes flutter, trying desperately to stay open, pleasure coursing through you in unrelenting waves. Meeting his eyes, you jerk your hand a little harder in Benny’s hair, and the sound he produces almost has you falling.

His hand pushes between your bodies as he moves faster again. The pleasure is hot and fast, and as Benny pulls your lips to his it explodes, fire shooting through your veins in search of oxygen and shaking your entire body. He swallows the cries of his name falling from your lips, but then his hips stutter and slipping from your lips he repays the praise. It’s loud, it’s messy, and it’s so fucking hot.

Benny drops his head in the crook of your neck, weakly trying to hold himself up. Your chest pushes against his until both your accelerated breathing reaches the same rhythm. There is pleasant ache starting to make itself known, one you’re sure you’ll be feeling tomorrow, and perhaps the day after that.

Softly you push Benny over and he lets himself be rolled onto his back, still inside you. Head landing on the pillow he takes a few more breaths before his eyes pop open. When they meet yours there is a content smile on his lips, with only a hint of unsedated hunger still visible in his dark eyes. He reaches forward to meet your smiling kiss and lets you pull off him and roll onto the mattress beside him.

After a few seconds of just the sound for your breathing your voice comes alive again.

“I hope we didn’t wake anyone.”

Benny starts laughing, breathlessly and beautifully, and you scrunch your nose playfully at him.

“I hope we did.” He looks at you, eyes brilliant, and adds in a more serious tone. “I think they’re all asleep so they can get up at a reasonable hour tomorrow.”

You reach over and pull your watch from the nightstand.

“Two isn’t a reasonable hour to be up?” Benny snorts a laugh at your fake naiveté as you settle back into the bed.

There’s a few more seconds of silence before he talks again.

“I still only made you come once.” Benny looks at you, eyes flicking down to your lips and back up; the hunger more than unsated now.

“That’s okay” You smile teasingly. “I wouldn’t expect you to, you did all the hard work.”

Benny doesn’t find an answer to that, but you have a feeling neither of you think two is very late at all.

#I fucking called the watch thing I'm so proud!#I'm glad the internet agrees that Benny has both bi and switch energy #benny watts #benny watts x reader #the queen's gambit

768 notes · View notes

moxfirefly · 3 years

Note

Hey I kinda wanna make a request (don't know if I have already)

13:I’m not wearing anything under this

26:Don’t make me pull over - that’s it

29:Scream for me. I want everyone to know how good I make you feel

Praise Kink

Over-stimulation kink

With the loveable nerd donnie?

If this isn't possible I understand, love all your work by the way

I have never seen a more perfect set up. Friend you’ve got it!

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

He exactly knew what you were trying to do from the moment you climbed into the truck in that frilly little sun dress. In fact he would bet a kidney that the choice of wardrobe on the hot summers night was catered to distract him to the point of muttering to himself.

Donnie was and is, a safe driver.

But that stupid dress had mysteriously ridden up your thighs when he hit a pothole somewhere into his drive through Manhattan. It was a fun little activity the two of you did all the time, a means of getting away, AC on high and privacy you both didn’t get often.

But you had intentions.

Intentions that hopefully would lead to the a very good outcome. So when Donnie saw your hands smooth over the tops of your thighs, his eye would twitch. Never mind when you crossed your legs and that defiant flimsy fabric just allowed more skin to show.

“-could you believe the nerve of that guy? Anyways my boss fired him, good riddance honestly. What about you babe? How was your day?” Donnie had absorbed cero information for the first time in his life, he was at a red light, big brown eyes blinking at you.

You smirked, uncrossing your legs, crossing them the opposite way you had previously.

“What’s your game plan here?” He asked, you almost snorted.

“Whatever are you saying my dearest? Can a gal know how her man’s day has been?” Oh you were a clever sneak but your eyes always betrayed you and when the corners of your mouth shot up in a fit of laughter, Donnie frowned. “My day is great! Just somewhat distracted by a certain someone, you know if we crash it’s totally your fault” He honked when the guy in front of him didn’t move at the green light.

Wanting to make things even more savory, you played with the hem of your dress. “I love when I distract you, it’s a favorite past time of mine” You lifted it and reveled in Donnie almost cracking his neck to see what you were doing and then back to the road ahead.

“I’m not wearing anything under this” You spoke, a sultry hint to your words. You were in fact bare, with every intention of teasing him into having to do something about it.

He bit his lip and shook his head, this was so not happening right now and you sure as hell weren’t...

“Y/n...” Your name sounded like a demand the moment he saw your palm run over the hood of your sex. He kept a good handle of driving and sneaking glances at your lap. Your legs spread enough for you to slide a finger in between your folds and to Donnie’s pure teasing realization he heard how wet you were. You relaxed back, soft touches working you up and Donnie soft little churrs picking up volume. When you pushed that digit inside of yourself, he gripped the steering wheel. “Don’t make me pull over” It was that stern voice he used on occasion.

With another turn on a less trafficked street, you turned to him, digit slowly pumping in and out of you and said, “Or what?” You grinned mischievously. “-That’s it”

Donnie parked the car by the sidewalk, not really caring that even if it was relatively late pedestrians were still passing by here and there. He reclined your chair, enjoying the little yelp that exited your mouth. Pushing your hand away he popped his own digit into his mouth before teasing it at your entrance. “Have you been walking around this city with no underwear? Answer me” You stifled a giggle by biting your lip but that quickly melted into a moan when he pushed his much larger digit inside of you. Your thighs shook with the delightfully stuffed sensation it brought.

“You haven’t answered my question” He thrusted his finger, moving just the way he knew that could illicit the best response.

“So what if I did?” Defiant words for somebody in a precarious position. Donnie had that little twinkle in his eye, the one you knew all too well.

“Nobody, and I do mean nobody, has or will have the right to see this” He emphasized the last word with a harsher thrust of his finger that made you choke. “I guess that only leaves one other option, reminding you exactly who you belong to” That sentence was enough to make you want to scream internally, pushing the usually chill terrapin to these extents wasn’t the easiest. Sometimes one had to play dirty, which you we never opposed to doing so.

Somewhere between a moan and a full body shiver you felt Donnie crook his finger. That first release whenever sought out like this, always made you just a little dizzy, made your joints protest from tensing so much. Your hands flew to his chest, the firmness of his plates grounding you back from your high.

“Say ‘thank you, Donnie’, come on baby, use your words” He swelled with pride seeing your mouth start to move but nothing resembling the words coming out.

So naturally, he started up again.

You squished your thighs together, trapping his hand when the oversensitivity hit but he only ‘tsk’d’ his disapprovement and gave your thighs a soft slap. “Don’t squeeze, don’t squeeze” Trembling thighs obeyed and separated enough for him to continue his strokes, thumb circling over your clit with enough pressure to make your hand fly up to your mouth.

Just like that he pulled another orgasm out of you, but did not stop his motions over your clit.

You started to squirm, breath hitching into embarrassing squeaks and all the more he glued those precious brown orbs of his to you.

“Well?” He barely sounded strained, he was hardly even breaking a sweat.

“Thank you! Thank you!” You shut your eyes when he didn’t stop, every nerve in your body felt over exposed, saturated with the constant onslaught to your sensitive nub.

One more, yanked from your body, hard enough you felt a rush of something in your brain and that jelly like feeling hit your limbs. He fucked his finger slowly in and out, bringing you down into a somewhat false sense of security. Your hazy vision found the window on your side, a few pedestrians passing and the idea that somebody could’ve heard...

Pulling out his digit, Donnie popped it into his mouth. “I had a very nice date planned out, but then again this isn’t far off from the original plan” He pulled you up into a sitting position but maneuvered you onto your knees to face the car window. He bunched up your dress and nudged you forward to rest your hands on the glass. “You like making a spectacle? Walking around with nothing under your dress?” Donnie spoke those words against the back of your head, he enjoyed the scent of your hair. Gripping your hips he pushed you against the prominent bulge.

Oh how your thighs shook. Your breath fogged up the glass as you heard him unzip. “Dee-ohfuck” He ran the length of his cock through your folds, squeezing your thighs for the right pressure for the teasing friction. “Aren’t I a nice guy? See how good I treat you?” He hunched over you, chin resting on your shoulder. A large three fingered hand landed on the glass next to yours, it gutted him to see the contrast in size, to see your pinky wrap around his much thicker digit. “Tell me how it feels, when I push into you” He whispered against your shoulder, slowly sliding in and stretching you out.

It was tricky, the space wasn’t too small but between both seats he found a good spot to stand (or more so bend) and give you the first thrust that left your mouth hanging open. “So so so good,” You muttered with a shaky voice. “And? What else?” He loved the way you swallowed letters the moment he thrusted just a little harder. “You’re so fucking big, you do this so good, god Donnie nobody’s fucked me like you before” There was deep rumbling churr against your neck, he tasted salt and your perfume when he licked it.

“You’re the best, you’re the fucking best!” You moaned out, loud enough you felt embarrassment as somebody passed by. Naturally Donnie noticed, smirking against your neck. “Now we’re shy? Now you want to be a good girl?” He hooked an arm around your waist and absolutely threw caution to the god damn wind.

He sped up, deep thrusts that were fully determine to make you scream your head off. Right there with his hips smacking against your rear he spoke the words you knew would be your undoing.

“Scream for me, I want everyone to know how good I make you feel” He drove into you with that very purpose in mind. That long cock of his hitting exactly the spots you needed in order to do so. In order to scream your head off when your release came suddenly and so devastatingly strong, you felt something gush out of you. It’s intensity made your eyes shut tight as you rode the high. Feeling teeth at your shoulder and a muffled string of curses and your name you felt warmth shoot into you.

You don’t remember Donnie shuffling the two of you onto the couch but at some point you’re there. Body slumped, dress still scrunched up as Donnie rummages through a small bin for some wet wipes. “Did you cum on the chair again?” You asked him sleepily and with a smile, you still had enough gas in the tank for a few jabs. He had bag between his teeth as he stumbled to push up his pants. Dropping the wipes near you he smirked.

“No, but you did” He declared quite triumphantly.

Your foggy dopamine ridden brain took a bit to load.

“I squirted!?” You wanted to sit up but that wasn’t gonna happen any time soon. You covered your face, embarrassment clear. Donnie snorted and rubbed your rear affectionately. “Please, if it were up to me I’d leave it there like a badge of honor” He stifled another laugh when you peaked through hands and glared.

“By the way...” He kissed your arm.

“Hm?” The sensation lulled you.

“I love you” His words were soft yet serious.

“I love you more” You whispered back.

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt donatello x female reader #donnie tmnt #donatello tmnt #tmnt donatello x reader #tmnt donnie x reader #tmnt donnie #tmnt donatello #donatello x reader #donnie x reader #ask #donniesgirl-tmnt #smut prompts #ns*w

1K notes · View notes

h0neypjm · 3 years

Text

Confident | jjk 01

↳ Summary: After giving Jungkook the best suck of his life he’s left wondering if what you said was true. Was it really your first time? ‘Cause Jungkook thinks you might’ve lied.

↳ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

↳ Genre: Smut, fluff, angst, college au, fuckboy! Jk, cheeky virgin reader

↳ Rating: 18+

↳ Word count: 4.3k

↳ Warnings: mentions of virginity, blowjobs, fingering, hickies, handjobs, mc is annoyingly indecisive

↳A/N: based on the song confidence by Justin Bieber and Chance the rapper oop, i highly recommend listening to the slowed version here !

↳Series: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04

Nights like these were starting to look the same. Bright flashes of neon lights and music so loud it shakes the ground. Howls of rowdy boys and the whispering of gossiping girls. They all blend into one, usually leaving Jungkook with a mess of clingy girls and a headache that pounds every time he blinks.

Which is why Jungkook begins to question his decisions when his drink sloshes around his cup for the fifth time tonight, spilling onto his jeans as the short blonde sitting in front of him tries to scoot into his lap. She’s a clingy hookup, just like the rest of them, but if Jungkook is being honest he doesn’t even remember their names.

Jungkook entertains her for a moment when he eventually lets her sit on his thighs. She leaves wet kisses on his neck and whispers dirty words into his ear. Jungkook however, is unaffected by her ministrations. This wasn’t his first rodeo after all. Instead, He’s distracted, trying to find a face unfamiliar to him.

Jungkook usually only asks for one thing when attending such parties. He wants fresh meat, a new obsession for the week. Not sit around with a past hookup who doesn't know how to keep her distance. It seems he was out of luck tonight, when his eyes brush over the faces of every partygoer, only finding the faces of past flings and regret.

He wants to go home. Wants to wash off the dirt, grime and red lipstick that now stains his neck. So, with a pat to the ass of the petite girl sitting in his lap, he gets up in search of a mess of bright pink hair.

Alas, he spots the candy haired man with two girls hooked under each of his defined arms, a smug grin etched on his plush lips.

“Jimin!” Jungkook yells, in which the man in question shoots his head into Jungkook’s direction with a holler of his name. They approach each other with what Jimin claims as their “totally special and unique” ‘bro’ handshake, their hands connecting with practiced perfection.

“Why do you look so glum mister Jungkook?” Jimin drunkenly questions before gasping. “You didn’t get any pussy isn’t it? Oh you poor boy.” Jungkook narrows his eyes at the boy in front of him, beginning to get a little embarrassed at the volume of Jimin’s voice. Jungkook just about loses it when Jimin suddenly turns around, making the girls under his arms stumble, their tall stilettos doing nothing to save their ankles.

“AYO SOMEONE GET THIS MAN SOME PUSSY!” Jimin yells at the top of his lungs before Jungkook lunges at him, hand on his mouth before flicking his forehead with as much force as he could muster.

The girls hanging off of Jimin are now long gone, leaving Jimin confused and pouty that he lost his potential threesome of the night. He doesn't dwell on that loss for too long though, there's always next week.

“Ok maybe i was being a bit too loud”, Jimin giggles, “sorry bout it”. Jungkook huffs, “I’m gonna go home now”, he decides, dismissing Jimin’s protests and heading into the kitchen for one last drink.

The change of bright lights in the small kitchen makes Jungkook’s eyes squint and his head throb. He shields his eyes with his hands making his way over to the large bowl of whatever toxic waste Jin, the host of the party, decided to mix in for tonight.

Where the fuck are all the cups? Jungkook believes he’s about to bubble over. He hasn't busted a single nut since two weeks ago and now can’t even find a stupid cup to quench his thirst. It seems the two things he’s thirsting for right now are way out of his reach tonight.

Fuck this, Jungkook sighs before beginning to head out of the kitchen. It’s only when Jungkook walks past the refrigerator, he couldn't help but notice the clinking of glass bottles and groans of desperation ringing in his ear. Turning around to scope out the scene, Jungkook immediately freezes at the sight before him.

It’s a girl. But, most importantly it’s a girl Jungkook has never seen before.

Unbeknownst to you, Jungkook watches with amusement as you stretch your arm out, trying so desperately hard to reach for the hidden bottles of liquor on the top shelf. You’ve angled yourself in such a position that the bottom of your ass is practically out, the short skirt doing nothing to stop your ass from saying hello to the whole party.

Jungkook doesn’t know if he should scold you for trying to steal Jin’s expensive liquor or bend you over the counter for looking exactly like his type. Long legs and the fattest ass he’s ever laid his eyes on.

He blinks, finally decides to break out of his thoughts because he realised he’s been standing there, looking at you like a creep for far too long while you struggle over some pricey alcohol.

You, on the other hand, think you've got it this time. The bottle of tequila you have been desperately hunting down sits on the edge of the tall shelf. Just one more jump and it’ll surely come down. So, with all the energy stored within your being you jump up. Expecting your hand to meet cool glass, you are deeply disappointed when it is met with a large tattooed hand instead.

Spinning around quickly, you cross your arms over your chest with a not so intimidating scowl plastered on your pretty face. “That’s mine” you whine, reaching out for the bottle, only for Jungkook to swiftly lift it up above his head and out of your reach.

He stretches his arms higher and stumbles forward when someone bumps into him, you pout but his grin grows wider.

“Hmmm, I don’t think so princess, and I don’t remember Jin inviting some preppy school girl to his party”

Jungkook is obviously teasing you but you gasp anyways at his statement, frowning when you look down at the cute plaid tennis skirt that circles your thighs. You actually did know you weren’t allowed Jin’s special top shelf alcohol but he would often let you have some if it weren’t for a rowdy party, benefits of being friends for over ten years you guess. But right now you really needed it, especially after the shit that’s tormented you, both mentally and physically.

So, that is why you don't back down from the remarks of Jeon Jungkook. In the most non discreet way possible, you rise onto your tippy toes to snatch the tequila in his grasp.

“Ah ah”, he tuts in reply when he surprisingly notices. But really it’s not that hard to tell, especially when you start magically growing right in front of his eyes. You huff, slightly defeated and Jungkook thinks you look adorable. You glance up at Jungkook, taking in all his seemingly hyped up features. It's then your eyes spot a small mole under his lip that you had never seen before. You think it's cute.

You would never reveal this to Jungkook and his particularly large ego, but you understood why he was so popular. He was charming, hot and built like a Greek God, anyone with working eyes could see that. But that’s not all.

Unbeknownst to Jungkook, you knew a scary amount of things about him. Right before entering college, your childhood best friend, Jin had told you many stories about the praised and worshipped God that graced your campus. Stories so embarrassing and so unlike the suave Jungkook you’ve seen, you're sure they would most likely scare off the girls he seemed to seduce every week.

Which is why you were always very intrigued by him, wanting to know him a little better. If you’re gonna be honest you're not even sure he knows who the fuck you are, but right now in this moment as you stand under his curious gaze you want him to know who the fuck you are.

If you couldn’t get any alcohol tonight, you might as well get some dick.

Much to your surprise, Jeon Jungkook was a lot easier to seduce than you thought. It probably had something to do with the way you had secretly caught him ogling your body five minutes ago. You’d surely tease him for that later.

All it really took was a sudden change in demeanour, glazed eyes and a few flirty touches that ultimately got you to where you are now. Brushing past sweaty bodies, your eyes peering at the stares of jealous girls while you’re hastily pulled up the stairs by your arm. Whistles shooting out of random party goers lips, the look of disappointment on Jin’s face.

Guilt flooded your body immediately when you met his downcast gaze, and you knew exactly why. Within all the stories Jin had told you about the infamous playboy, there had always been a clear message behind them.

Never get involved with Jeon Jungkook.

If someone were to ask Jin about his friendship with Jungkook he would smile and praise him, because he truly appreciated him as a friend and enjoyed his bubbly presence. But, if they asked him what he thought about Jungkook's playboy tendencies, he would shrug and tell them that it was his life and he could do what he wanted. That didn’t necessarily mean he agreed on his treatment of women though.

This is why Jin never introduced him to you, wanting to protect you to ensure you don’t become just another notch on Jungkook’s ever growing belt.

Clearly you couldn’t care less about the fact that you were to become another one of Jungkook’s messy hookups, especially with the way he’s got you currently positioned.

The door knob of the first vacant room Jungkook could spot was uncomfortably digging into your hip, but the way he messily licked into your mouth was no competition against it.

You knew what you were doing. You knew the minute Jungkook shoved you against the door and explored your skin that this may be the small spark that starts a blazing fire. You also knew that you were a grown ass woman that can make decisions for herself. You couldn't care less about the repercussions of your actions. You didn't care if Jungkook used you and broke your heart, because really, it’s not like he could break your heart even more than it already is.

And so, with a final lick across the hickey on your collarbone does he rasp, “Jump” into the shell of your ear. He secures his arms tightly around your waist when you oblige, heat taking over you when you wrap your thighs around his waist, your damp centre pressing against the buckle of his belt.

In one swift movement, he effortlessly carries you over to the nearby dresser, knocking empty bottles and whatever crap lies on its surface onto the floor. Your lips never leave his as you’re roughly placed onto the hard wooden veneer. You bite his lip, weaving your arms around his neck while his hands roam around your body before settling on your breasts, squeezing them when you tug at the tufts of his hair.

He revels in the whines and moans you let out, egging him on to leave a galaxy of hickies down your neck. Your head hits the wall behind you when you throw it back in pleasure while Jungkook suggestively tugs at the skirt riding up your thighs.

“Fucking love this skirt on you”, he bites your shoulder. “Sexiest legs i’ve ever seen”. You smirk at his compliment but you don’t let him see it. “Really!? I couldn't tell when you were standing there ogling me for five minutes”

He chuckles, slapping your thigh playfully in which you jolt spreading them to accompany his body. “You’re a cheeky one aren’t you?”

You don’t get time to retort, Jungkook’s fingers finding its way to the wetness that embarrassingly stains your panties. Your gasp melts into a high pitched whimper when he runs the pad of his thumb against your clothed clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves in slow teasing circles.

Jungkook keeps you down with a lustful stare, he wants to see all your reactions, he wants to see you squirm under his touch. With his free hand he grabs your chin with a gentleness that matches the delicious swirl of his fingers. You're suddenly met with his dark eyes, clouded with want and you're pretty sure you just got wetter at the sight.

All too soon, Jungkook picks up speed on your swollen clit, your head falls forward onto his shoulders, eyes squeezing shut in both bliss and frustration. You want him to touch you properly.

Lightly grabbing his wrist, you beg, “please- please touch me”. You're so wet at this point Jungkook could easily slide in two fingers if he wanted, but he wanted to see how long you could go. Your body was new to him after all.

“I am touching you, aren’t I?” He snaps back playfully. You whine and try to look away, but his grip on your chin is strong.

looking at your big wide eyes, he curses under his breath. You’re so pretty, even in the dim lighting of the room. He places his thumb on the plush pillow of your bottom lip before looking down at the wet mess between your legs.

Jungkook wonders if anyone has ever made you feel this way before, but the way you teasingly suck and swirl your tongue around his thumb, painting such an erotic picture tells him otherwise.

Jungkook finally decides he’s teased you enough, judging by the way your white cotton panties look almost transparent. Although he didn’t want to, he releases his thumb from your lewd mouth to spread your underwear to the side, revealing your glistening folds.

He wastes no time, sliding his fingers down your slit before immediately pushing two long fingers into your dripping heat. You gasp at the sensation, throwing your head back onto his broad shoulder and gripping his biceps tightly.

Jungkook marvels at the way you suck his fingers in. The way your tight hole flutters around his fingers doing nothing to aid his aching cock as it grows harder under the restraint of his jeans.

He pumps his fingers at a faster pace, you moan squeezing his bicep so hard, he’s sure you’ve left nail marks in his skin. He uses his other hand to rub at your swollen nub, you jolt in response to the sudden pleasure zapping through you.

“You’re so sensitive baby, is this your first time being touched like this?”

You don’t reply at first.

You see, questions like that confused you because on the one hand, no, it was not your first time if being fingered was what he was addressing. On the other hand however, you have never ever gone all the way. Yes, you hate to admit it but you were in fact a virgin.

Your lack of response doesn’t deter Jungkook, he thinks you’re in absolute euphoria, which is not wrong, he’s doing a great job but you also don’t know what to tell him.

You’re scared.

All the confidence you demonstrated in the small kitchen downstairs, slowly disintegrates. You know what Jungkook’s game is. He’s a hump and dump kind of guy, he doesn’t care about you, and he probably never will. You’re not like that. You’re a stupid hopeless romantic who truly believes in soulmates. You were a firm believer that there’s a person destined for everyone. Those beliefs all went to shit however when a certain someone decided to rip your heart to pieces.

In your mind you backtrack the indecisive thoughts. You’re unsure if you want to let Jeon Jungkook take your virginity tonight but in all honesty you’re tired. You’re tired of waiting for the right person to come along, tired of being pressured, tired of putting so much energy into someone even though it was never reciprocated.

So with a shaky breath you whisper, “yes this is my first time”

Jungkook stops, a low growl rumbling out of his throat and straight to your pussy. “Fuck baby, you’re literally perfect. How hasn't anyone gotten their hands on you yet?” You smile with uncertainty until he pulls his fingers out of your sopping cunt. Your essence coating two long fingers as they sparkle in the moonlight.

Your jaw drops when he pops his digits into his mouth. He moans at the taste all while gazing into your wide eyes.

“Holy shit-”, you're cut off when he grabs your waist, your legs wrapping around him instinctively. He is quick to turn around, spotting the single bed behind him as he lays you down and shushes your yelp with a flaming kiss.

You comply with his actions, letting his tongue explore your mouth as you push your hand into his dark locks. Jungkook slackens his jaw to deepen the kiss while he tugs at the hem of your crop top, pushing it up and over the curve of your breasts to reveal your braless form.

Jungkook sighs at the sight, delving straight onto your left breast, sucking your nipple to its hardness as he simultaneously pinches the right. You’re soon becoming a moaning mess under him, loving the way he touches you.

“God i just wanna fuck you right now”, he exclaims, popping off of your breast. And just like that the nerves come flooding back. “Where's the fun in that?”, you ask with a frisky giggle, trying to ease the tension.

He tucks a strand of hair behind your ears,“Don’t be nervous princess, I’ll take great care of you.”

You don’t want it.

You’re having second thoughts again. You feel panicked. God, you think to yourself. Why are you so hung up over your goddamn virginity? Is it so bad if you let him take it right now? You wanna slap yourself, why are you thinking about this now?

When Jungkook’s fingers hover over your thighs, it sets off your brain to finally start working. You know what you want and you know that no, this is not going to happen tonight and you also need to lecture yourself later. So, with Feigned innocence you ask, “Can I take care of you instead?”

It's your final offer, because you would kind of feel bad if you left him there all hard and bothered. So, you could at least show him what you do best. Sucking dick.

You begin reaching for his belt to show how much you really mean it, and bite your lip for that extra push. Jungkook doesn’t say anything, only pushing himself onto his knees while you unbuckle his belt and smooth your hands over his thighs.

Jungkook’s buzzing with excitement. He has a hot girl about to suck his dick after his disastrous two-week dry spell. He feels a burn of possessiveness in his belly at the thought of himself being the first to do this with you. Oh, how wrong could he be.

“Can you lay down for me please?” You ask, flashing your most seductive eyes as you gesture him to lay on his back.

Jungkook does what you ask so quickly it’s like he was already there, and it's obvious as to why he’s so eager. The bulge in his tight jeans practically screams to be freed.

You don’t tease him, getting down to it immediately by bringing his jeans and boxers down over the curve of his ass. Unsurprisingly his cock, red and angry, springing out to slap his lower abdomen. You’re not gonna lie, he is indeed packing. Jungkook has one of the prettiest cocks you have ever seen, deliciously long and a thick girth to match. You drool at the sight.

Despite what many girls say, you enjoyed a good ol’ blowjob. You’re good at it, it gave you confidence and it never fails to make boys ask for more.

Without warning you wrap your lips around his leaking tip, holding down his thighs as he jolts up into you. You don’t stop there. Wrapping your hands around his girth to aid your mouth into taking more of his length in.

You repeat your actions at a steady rhythm. Taking him in as deep as you can go before coming up for air and twirling your tongue around his bulbous tip.

It seems that the tables have turned. Jungkook is a mess below you now, hair unruly from your previous tugging and his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. You moan at the sight, the vibrations aiding to stimulate his cock further.

Jungkook uses his hands to grip your hair into a makeshift ponytail before letting out a throaty groan. “Jesus baby how is this your first time?” Jungkook is shocked to say the least. He expected shy kittenish licks and fidgety hands, not the pornographic show you’re putting on, but he’s not complaining, he’s just a little confused.

With quick movements, you take his wrists out of your hair and sit up. Jungkook watches the string of your saliva thin out as you pop off of his dick and he shudders.

“I wanna see you do it”, you demand.

Jungkook slowly blinks up at your form. “What?” He is so fucking lost. “I said”, you begin, confidence gaining, “I want to see you do it.” You stare at his confused eyes and flicker them down to his hard member. “Princess I-” You huff, grabbing his hand and wrapping it firmly around his dick, a saccharine smile making its way onto your face when his doe eyes widen.

Your hand is still tightly secured around his own as you lean down to lick into his leaking slit all while maintaining eye contact. You lean back once again and finalise, “I want to see you touch yourself Jungkook.”

“Fucking hell”, he curses, running his unoccupied hand into his dishevelled hair. Never is his life has he been in a situation like this. Never has a girl ask him to touch himself and God was it hot seeing you do it.

Jungkook slowly pumps his cock watching the way your eyes glaze over and your mouth salivate. It only spurs him on further, spitting into his hand to slicken his dick. You settle onto your knees and slowly push your panties to the side, spreading your folds to show off the way you're completely soaked for him.

Jungkook can’t believe the sight before him. He can’t believe he found someone like you. Someone so pretty but oh so effortlessly sexy, it's like you knew exactly what you were doing to him. Which brings him back to his question. Was this really your first time?

You let out a wanton moan when your fingers start to circle around your clit. Jungkook matches the speed of your fingers by twisting his wrist to smoothly glide over his cock. You both groan at the view.

Soon enough you both have a thundering pace going. You’ve placed your fingers inside your walls pumping at the same rate of Jungkook’s thrusts.

The room is filled with nothing but the wet squelches of both your ministrations and your harmonised moans of ecstacy. You enjoyed this. You felt powerful. The uncertainty and nervousness vanishing.

It’s then Jungkook lets out the prettiest whines. “Fuck Im gonna cum baby, fuck.” You smirk, leaning over to press your cheek to his thigh watching in amazement as he pumps himself at a faster rate, the mix of his saliva and precum creaming around the base of his dick as he moans louder. “Fucking shit, Im cumming-”

You quickly move in front of his dick letting his hot spurts of cum coat your cheeks and tongue as you marvel at his gorgeous face.

Jungkook’s pants, cupping your jaw when he looks down at the picture he’s painted on your face. You innocently smile at him, swiping at the cum that drips onto your cheeks and bringing it into your mouth, humming at the taste.

Jungkook opens his mouth in awe, beginning to form his next sentence, but you’re already getting up, running your fingers through your hair and locating tissues to clean your face.

“H-hey…”

“Well this was fun, see you around Jungkook”

And just like that you shut the door on him. Leaving him in the dark room with his dick limp on his stomach, the sound of the rowdy party and the thrumming in his heart.

It has been exactly 12 hours since you had given Jeon Jungkook the best head of his life, and you barely even touched his dick.

At first Jungkook was a little disappointed in himself. How pathetic of him to cum so hard by his own handjob. Sure you helped a little… ok you helped quite a lot, but still, Jungkook feels irked by the situation

He swirls the straw around his iced coffee, waiting for his friends to arrive so he can vent about what the fuck is going on in his pea brain.

Jungkook’s phone vibrates against his ass, making him slump in his chair. He pulls it out, brows furrowing at the message.

| Jin: I’m going to fucking kill you.

Jungkook blinks, should he be worried or did he just accidentally eat one of Jin’s snacks again. He shrugs, switching his phone off just in time to see Jimin and Taehyung walk into the cafe.

“Again Jungkook? Why the long face”, sneers Jimin, who looks way too good for someone with a raging hangover.

When Jungkook doesn’t reply, Taehyung shakes his shoulders. “Seriously are you feeling alright? Did something happen last night”

Jungkook stares at the ice slowly melting in his coffee. He doesn’t know how to approach this conversation, it was weird and confusing and he’s still trying to process everything, until he suddenly blurts...

“She said it's her first time.” He pauses, looking up at his friends' concerned faces. “I think she might’ve lied.”

Taglist: @zibermuda <3

#h0neypjm #mine #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook smut #bts #bts fic #kpop #kpop fanfic #bts x reader #jungkook #jimin #taehyung #seokjin #namjoon #hoseok #yoongi

2K notes · View notes