#she was showing me her nails and like. poked me in the thigh loads | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yanderenightmare · 4 years

Note

How would the yanderes react if their darling was the one to initiate intimacy/sex for the first time, and how do you think their darling would come to that point? (stockholm syndrome? being touch starved/deprived as punishment? etc.)

thirsty ! BNHA imagines

TIP-JAR

goodiebag WARNINGS: yandere, noncon/dubcon, abuse, profanity, anxiety, guilt, kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome, manipulation, mind control

BAKUGO KATSUKI - KACHAN

-ADDICTION

She was riding for dear life, chasing that light at the end of the tunnel.

Eyes tightly squeezed shut as she hopped up and down, sliding upon Bakugo’s impressive girth, moaning each time his tip poked into her cervix as she clapped down onto his lap again and again and again and again, harder and harder, deeper and deeper, hitting knew spots upon new spots, messaging uncharted territory, rearranging her organs, poking and prodding and fitting so snuggly and perfectly inside her she could all but start crying from the bliss of it all.

She was crying. Hot tears streaming down her cheeks, numb with how warm she was, feverish and febrile and growing madder with pleasure, drunk and drowning in euphoria.

“Fuck.” He stuttered out his gruff moan, barely holding onto her hips anymore.

He'd been inspired and insured that it would be fine to let her move on her own now, knowing he’d made it clear enough she wouldn’t be going anywhere without him being satisfied first, thinking she was showing so much enthusiasm simply to make him come quicker.

He hadn't yet sensed how desperately she was chasing the same release he was, especially since he’d already made sure she came twice before they even started. Once on fingers, once on his tongue. He wasn’t at all thinking she was preparing herself for a third time, especially not on his cock.

Having left her to do all the work for a while now, having been rendered completely blissed-out and awestruck with feeling her eager movements on top of him, he couldn’t really care much for how pathetic a mess he must have looked beneath her.

His eyes scrunched together to hold onto every sharp movement of her hips, lips pursed out and puckered with his grit-teeth, his cock standing proudly, pushing into her again and again at such a fast pace he was barely able to feel his climax coming dangerously close, too numb with pleasure to part it from his release, but as his balls were emptying inside her he shot up into a sitting position in favor of lying down, needing to hold her still so he could pump his load without it spilling, arms reaching around her to keep her pushed down and impaled on him.

She tried humping for more friction even in the tight secured lock, rocking into him, kept snug against his chest, trying so desperately to reach with his cock what was screaming inside her.

He made some indication he was done. His thick arms losing their grip around her torso, head resting on her shoulder as he panted, not yet understanding what hell or heaven he was in for, taken by surprise, by overwhelming panicked surprise.

“No!” She roared out her little whine. Her smaller hands protruding nails digging into his chest to push him back down on the bed, then continuing to ride despite feeling him tense beneath her.

He tried moving again, fearing, panicking because of his overstimulated cock being continuously pleased almost enough for it to be painful. The hunger already quenched being kept fed, drowning the thirst, so much he felt as though something might burst.

Her hands moved to yank his hair, pulling him back to rest on the pillow, her other hand pushing, seizing around his throat, violating his Adam’s apple, forcing him to gasp as he choked both on the action itself but also at the sheer controversy of it all.

Her mouth hovering above his own as he groaned from the pain of having his hairs ripped from his scalp and his vocal cords abused, whereas she only moaned in return, too concerned with feeling every inch of her being on fire to care.

“Oh fuck, please, Katsuki, please, more.”

Something tight tugged in his pelvis at the same time awe blossomed in his chest at the sight of her and those pretty eyes looking at him with tears and that sweet crinkle of plead between her brows.

His name dripping from her tongue like honey as she continued going up and down the length of his oversensitive cock, slipping even easier in now when coated in his cum. Her thighs sticking to his in juices as her head dipped to lay against his chest while she continued slapping, jumping on his cock with an unrelenting, unsatisfied determination.

His cock throbbed inside her, nearly crying, screaming with something playfully akin to aching, a pressure building again even as he thought it impossible.

She was stabbing herself with his cock, squeezing and seizing and fluttering around the blade, driving him mad.

But as soon as he got over the feeling of bursting, could he pull himself back.

Grabbing her waist and hoisting her off him, she nearly sobbed at the loss of contact.

He pouted in mimic, condescendingly. “Is the little slut begging for more?”

He grinned maniacally as he mounted her, surprised to see and feel her desperately trying to get closer as he pushed her down into the sheets beneath him, lining himself up with her sopping greedy cute little cunt.

He only teased for about a moment more before impaling her on his length once again, pushing all the way into her in a mere swift second, dragging a real pornstar-beautiful moan from her, gleeful to see her squeal with pleasure as he began thrusting into her sharply, angled to hit that sweet blissful spot inside her.

“Be a good girl and cum for me again.” He growled and she swore she felt it like thunder in her stomach, like explosions, like lightning striking. “That’s what you want isn’t it?” The frenzy in his voice, once only terrifying, now made her toes curl and her head feel like cotton. “You want me to make you cum? You want to cum on my cock like a good slut? My slut? Come on, cum for me.”

She was being fucked completely silly.

Tongue falling from her mouth along with a string of wet moans and drool and his name. Her eyes swimming with tears as she tried focusing on his and the gut-churning look of feral dominant lust in the heat of them that had her pussy clenching around him, yet was barely able to hold his gaze as she was being fucked into a cross-eyed mess, feeling the pressure build and build and build and getting so close to bursting she was crying with how she was being kept from her climax by some unknown cruelty.

She just needed him to go harder, go faster.

She just needed more, she just needed him, needed him and his glorious cock to help her.

MIDORIYA IZUKU - DEKU

-APOLOGY

“I hate you!”

It slipped before she was able to stop it, before she could reconsider, before she could save herself.

She watched with terror-wide eyes locked on his, awaiting whatever awful murderous intent he chose fit for her punishment, and was at once trembling.

Knees growing weak, apologies falling broken on her tongue as her fear’s need to cry outweighed her wish for recovery, resulting in simply blubbering on her sobs. Small frail hands reached out in protection, in a timid means of making him give her a second to gather herself as she fell apart with the painful fear that clenched around her heart, making it hard to breath, making it hard to see, hard to stand, hard to think, hard to do anything except for gasp for air, air that seemed to not want to enter her lungs quick enough.

“Hey, hey… breathe.”

She hadn’t even realised she’d collapsed, nor that Izuku had come to catch her fall, rocking her back and forth in his arms, head resting in his palm. Her eyes wide and frantic as she looked up at him for help, helpless in her crippling anxiety, anxiety he was the trigger of and seemingly the only source of comfort as well.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I take it back, I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry, please, forgive me, forgive me!” She gulped on shuddering breaths, sobbing, hysterical in her scrambling, so completely panicked, so utterly destroyed by her fear of him, knowing how those hands of his could hold the world just as easy as her head and her heart, where despite knowing that through and through she still sought out the comfort in how his fingers stroked through her locks, petting her calm.

Her hands, retrieving more and more mobility, reached up to fold across his back.

“I don’t hate you, I’m sorry, I’m just stupid, forgive me, I’m just ungrateful and spoiled and stupid.”

Tears rolled down her face as she propped herself up in his lap, hands desperate as she intertwined them in his locks, fervently trying to make up for her mistake, trying to prove she was able to correct herself, that she didn’t need another lesson, another one of his mind-shattering bone-crushing lessons.

The fact that he’d forced her into a perverted set of lingerie had fallen to waste, the fact that he’d been lecturing her about how she belonged to him, how she had no right to disobey him, how she was just a dumb little girl in a world too big for her to ever possibly understand, how she was good for nothing but being stress-relief for him. None of that mattered anymore.

What mattered was persuading him into taking enough pity on her to let her indiscretion slide.

She just needed to beg enough, she just needed to grovel and plead and cry enough.

“Sweetie…” He hummed, no anger present in his voice, but then again, there never was. Tone always laced or dripping with honey, giving no hint as to where his mindset was or what he was about to do.

And all it managed to do was make her cry harder, hold onto him tighter, fear climbing higher.

“It’s okay, Sweetie… I know you didn’t mean it.”

His words were all but reassuring, as she was waiting for the other side of the coin to show its face, waiting to hear his but’s and if’s and punishments and corrections, waiting for those hands of his to show her, to prove to her what she already knew yet let herself forget, that she was a small helpless stupid girl and he was nothing short of god.

“But…”

And there it was, her worst fear, her worst nightmare, all sounded in one word.

She couldn’t let him continue, and by god she couldn’t let him finish.

Wet soft bloated lips met, or rather pushed, forced themselves upon his stiff ones, suffocating all reprimanding comments, all and everything he was about to say.

She shuffled into a cradling position on his lap, body and chest glued tightly in his embrace, hands running, tangling, gripping desperately onto the emerald locks at the nape of his neck, lips whimpering upon his ones, as though begging them to kiss back.

That desperation tasted delicious on his tongue. How she sat on his lap like some wounded animal, begging for the kind and nurturing hand of their master to help soothe the pain away.

He wasn’t about to discourage that type of behavior, that form of apology.

She wasn’t ready to take his cock, but then again, she never was with how gifted he was and how cursed she were. His cock being so threateningly huge, just like the rest of him.

But given the rest of him was just as threatening, she could manage, she could survive taking but one of his limbs rather than having all his brutal strength take care of her.

So she buttoned up his pants, trembling fingers working hurriedly, spiked by fear of both what was to come and what would come were she to stop. Her mouth still laying sloppy tearful kisses onto his lips, as he didn’t seem to mind just how much she was sobbing to please him.

She was at once stroking him when he was out, her other hand rushing to save her own life as it messaged her clit, trying to warn her of what was to come, what needed to come.

Still he hadn’t said anything, still let her slave for him. Though that might be for the best in this case.

His large hands placed palms down on the floor, simply supporting him as he leaned on them.

When she broke off the kiss, he was about to correct her, yet she ducked quicker, wrapping her warm and wet lips around his cock and giving th head a swirl with her tongue before pushing down as far as she could, glucking on him so eagerly and desperately, rendering what reprimanding movement was to come of his hand to an encouraging petting of her head instead.

She only sucked for a brief moment, leaving the proudly bobbing spit-slicked pole cold once she parted with only strings of drool connecting them. She shuffling back up to align him with her entrance hurriedly.

Her lip quivered as she looked at him to search his stoic features, her body frozen, left to simply hover and sway above his impatient member, as she tried her best to quickly brace herself for the pain she was about to feel.

But then his patience wavered, and strong hands griped her hips and forced her down to take the cock, impaling her as he sheathed himself fully, earning a high-pitched screaming whimper from her.

She fell to his chest, hands tugging his shirt to steady herself as she winced at the feel of him tearing her apart.

“Silly me…” He chuckled, the sound cold and gut-wrenching. “Rewarding you when I should be punishing you.”

She breathed sporadically, hitched and hiccupping.

“I don’t deserve it, I don’t deserve it-”

Agreeing was the only course of action for her, the only thing she could afford.

“That’s right, you don’t deserve it.”

But the world is far from fair.

TODOROKI SHOTO

-DISTRACTION

He was coming.

He was coming and nothing could stop him, nothing could change his mind, nothing could help and nothing could save her, except maybe the next worst thing.

Bargaining pain with unwanted pleasure, the price being her pride, her dignity, her strength.

It would happen anyway after he was done making pretty artwork of her flesh, after he’d tampered with her limits long enough.

She had the chance to skip to the end. But the price remained her spirit, steep like her fear and heavy like her mind, heart and soul scaled together.

And yet, she made the gamble.

It was either she let him bite, chew and swallow her heart and spirit and soul on repeat or she bit back.

This was her biting back.

This was survival of the fittest.

This was her surviving.

She needed to take her aim now or never, before he did it first. So, she barreled the arrow, struck the bow, leveled her hawkeye and took the shot.

“I love you, Shoto.” She proclaimed.

Arrow flying, hands smooth in receiving his chest before he could tug her towards him. Meeting his hungry approach with a focused desperation of her own, dedicated as she pushed him back so that he was the one sitting and she was the one on top for once.

Hands gentle, without much pressure, drumming up the bruises and scars of his chiseled stomach, one side cold, the other hot.

“Will you let me show you how much I love you?” She questioned.

Time to see if the arrow had hit, lips pressed firmly to his forehead a short second later, before pressing one against his temple, careful to not hurt him where the skin was scarred and sensitive around his eye, then one against his jaw, and neck, and shoulder, and chest, trailing down further and further.

He stirred once she kissed on a particular cut, his hands coming to hold her back as he began sitting up.

Yet she was firm in her resolution, her own hands pushing his shoulders down.

“No, no...” She tutted, tone still soft. Not at all as though she was giving him a demand. Not at all like how he thought a command should sound, what he’d learned his mistakes would grant him from those people he trusted.

Not at all like his father’s voice of tyranny and terror.

“Let me take care of you.” She whispered it, and his heart clenched with memories of how his mother would patch him up after training.

The arrow well planted in his chest now.

“You just lie back...”

She kissed his cheek then, adamant she’d make him cry, make him become soft, help him, to save herself.

“Relax....”

She kissed his lips then and she swore she heard him whimper like a kicked pup, all fragile beneath her, broken and just a boy rather than the cruel man she knew him to be.

And then he was crying. Softly and quietly, but crying nonetheless. Thin streams of saltwater running down the corners of his pretty eyes.

He looked so vulnerable then. Vulnerable like glass, no… like ice melting.

And when the ice had finally melted she could either swim or drown in what ocean was left behind, all depended on how softly she handled him, where one wrong word would make him sharp like bladed icicles again, and the right words would keep him like this. Small, weak, needy, tame. You can only kiss storms when you’re right in the eye of them, where one misstep will send you flying, falling, to your despair, to your death.

She could make no mistakes.

She aligned her naked sex up with his. The steam in the room layered thick with dew on their naked bodies, alongside nervous sweat.

“You and I are the only ones that matter in this entire world, Shoto…”

She sat down, hungrily ripping a groan from his chest at her almost brutal pace, and she moaned as she dipped down to lay herself on his chest, feeling him sink and twitch inside her, fill her up so perfectly, like two things falling into sync, like yin and yang, like balance.

“It’s only you and me between heaven and hell.”

She whispered the words like a chant, like witchcraft, the breath of them tickling his skin as she kissed down his pelvis, still firmly planted on top of him, hand trailing after, running over him smoothly and precisely, careful in their venture, before dropping down from the loft of his hips to entangle her small breakable finger in his destructive hands

“And everything else is just falling snow…”

She rocked her hips, like a smooth wave rolling into shore, thighs cradling his torso snugly, keeping him safe and trapped beneath her as she continued lolling forward on repeat, tentatively feeling after the pressure his hands gave hers, how tightly he squeezed, if it were a form of encouragement or discomfort, their wrists laid on the warmth of her thighs.

“I love you, Snow-Angel.” He cried, voice jagged and so far away from anything she’d ever heard.

And though this was what she’d been aiming for, having it enrol before her was a frightening type of uncharted waters she hadn’t at all any knowledge of how to tackle.

And that fear, the fear of drowning, increased so spectacularly when he sat up.

His fingers slipping from hers, leaving her control and wrapping around her torso instead, tightly, so tightly she feared he’d break her spine.

And then the heat followed, the blistering heat.

And then the cold, the promise of frostbite.

But then… he was still crying...

Crying like a toddler into her shoulder, nuzzling in her neck and all those terrifying and painful promises seemed to mellow, leaving her unscathed yet panicked, as without the pain she had no way of knowing when or where to go, resulting to her simply sitting there, comforting her captor, speared on his cock of her own choosing, with his tears running down her back.

Her heart beating painfully rapid in her chest as she slowly and unsurely raising her freed fingers to wrap into his dual-coloured locks, petting his head and hoping, praying she wasn’t falling prey to any false sense of safety.

DABI - TODOROKI TOUYA

-HABIT

They were doing what they always did.

Simply lounging.

Slugged on the bed, in each-other’s arms. Sickly sweet fumes in the dank room. Air thick like a cloud, dark and grey and matt.

The walls having been erased or rather blurred out into nothing, leaving them there, floating in and about nothing, each-other’s warmth the only constant.

Where in the complete lack of scheduling it had become like schedule, like ritual to simply lay and do nothing, then do something that threw them back into exhaustion which in turn resulted in yet again doing nothing, except maybe sleep.

The day lacked much, and in its lacking there were certain expectations, certain instincts and impulses that had arisen inside her.

She knew something was coming, anticipation, she knew something was supposed to come, and yet they still laid there and did nothing, when they were supposed to be doing… well… something, so that they yet again could go back to doing nothing.

It was safe to say her head had become rather empty at this point.

“Are we forgetting something?” She felt the need to ask, felt the need to hear Dabi tell her, give orders in where she should go and what she should say, something not allowing her to feel the terror of why those necessasties had become second nature or why she found refuge in them.

He mumbled in return, tone dark and scratchy like gravel or coal, evoking something to twist in her lower abdomen and purr with pleasure. “And what would that be?”

Dabi’s hand still fingered a rolled blunt, perfect with his expertise and nimble lanky fingers. Hand dragged to his mouth to take the final blow, smoke puffed out into the small space of the bedroom, layered thickly in the air.

Her eyes puffy and watery and red yet remaining open out of habit. Her lips burned, or rather stung, prickled from the after affects, her mouth dry as though full of ash, and as she breathed she felt the scratchy raw feeling of her throat by how much she’d been coughing earlier.

Dabi was always certain she didn’t take proper drags, therefore resulting in taking the drag for her, locking his lips painfully tight around hers, blowing until her face turned red and he could be sure the smoke reached her lungs. He was never satisfied before her eyes glossed over, blank and stupid, blinking at him so softly, as all off her became softer and softer, both her gaze, her voice, her words, her actions, her thoughts, her resistance.

“I don’t know…” She honestly didn’t, all she felt was that something was missing, that she required something, or that something was required of her, the feeling that she was supposed to be doing something or have something done to her.

Dabi turned his head to look at her, inspecting her features, the cute confusion warping her face into a feeble timid expression, brows softly scrunched together, eyes focusing on nothing yet something as she raked through her empty head, her foggy ditzy subdued head.

A look of near endearment present on his face as he watched on for a second for the sake of amusement.

He cupped her cheek, her eyes quickly skittering to meet his, as though on command, knowing by instinct that was what she was supposed to do.

“Are you waiting for something, doll?”

Her lips quivered, and he could already spot the brimming of bubbling tears that came flooding to the surface. Soon to be spluttering out hopeless mumbles if he didn’t save her from the fall first. He was almost tempted not to, if only to scoop up what was left afterwards, put the pieces back together in whatever order he so wished, but he was feeling benevolent tonight.

His smile was soft as it neared her, deceptively so, kind and well-wishing, as his lips met with hers.

It felt like salvation, it felt like peace, it felt like all was falling into place, the way they should be, and she felt safe, no… she felt saved. From what? She did not know, as she had not the mind to care. All she had the mind for was to kiss back.

She moved more on her own now, with the reminder of his tongue in her mouth, the taste making her feel like she was being welcomed home.

Leg sweeping over his to plant herself in his lap, in her rightful place, feeling the all too familiar poking of his hard cock kept bulged beneath the comfort or discomfort of his briefs and jeans, brushing into and past the thin fabric of her cotton laced panties, soon to be drenched, as on cue, as though she’d been taught that would be best.

Her eyes were wide, wide with falling, with being lost, with wanting him to catch her, to save her, wide with waiting, hanging onto his every movement, as though incapable of doing anything on her own, as though only capable of taking orders. Just as he’d shaped her.

His finger drummed alongside her thighs where she knelt on his cock. His other hand doing the same, meeting where his jeans were kept on, unbuttoning, then zipping down, all so slowly, all to watch her features turn even more lost, into something that looked so adorably like hope.

“Is this what you wanted?”

He pulled his stiff dick out of his boxers, having it spring and stand proudly in the air, curved and pierced with all sorts of fun.

She licked her lips mindlessly, eyeing the pole, wanting, no, needing, no… compelled to pull her underwear aside, revealing what dripping drooling well-trained mess had pooled from her.

Feeling so utterly fulfilled, it feeling so positively right, as though what she’d lost was now returned, was she’d been missing she’d found, and what more, what she’d been missing had been missing her as well, hungrily so, painfully so. It was all she could think of when she eased down onto the towering pole until she was filled up to the brim, only to push down some more to envelope him entirely, feel him stretch and curve inside her.

More after that, she didn’t know what she needed to do, but she was sure she’d know once she got there, she was sure Dabi would be a saint and tell.

SHIGARAKI TOMURA

-BOREDOM

She was losing her mind.

It was a horrendous type of silence. Silence that wasn’t really silence at all as it was cut and sliced and murdered and bled out into the tactless endless mocking clicking of Tomura’s consoler.

Sharp aggressive smacks where he thumbed the joysticks, quick slaps with his long veiny bony fingers slamming with unneeded force into fragile buttons.

She felt the sting in her temple, eyes squeezed so impossibly tight to a close as her ears sung with irritation.

“I’m done.”

She only barely recognised her own voice. Though she knew she mouthed the words and she knew she added timber and tone to sound them, but that whine, that sickly sweet defeat that laced the syllables, as though she were crying, as though she were begging, that wasn’t her, but that was who she’d become.

“You win.”

And she wasn’t at all sure if she cared anymore about her defeat.

“No… I’m about to.” He mumbled, eyes glancing to her briefly, split-secondly, before they swiftly, with lightning speed, stuck back to watch the bright screen a foot in front of him, the clicking made by his ruthless fingers never once stopping.

She wondered how such force was even possible, given he had to lift one digit on each hand in order not to destroy what he held so preciously. How he had the grip, the agility, the mobility and speed and precision was something that spurred through her mind each time she watched him go on, winning more so than losing. She guessed it was practice. Sometimes it would amaze her, somedays she would watch mindlessly as he sped through all levels, all ranks, all challenges, all side quests, win after win, wondering if it even posed any challenge, any stimulation when he seemed to complete them all with such ease and finesse, effortlessly.

Sometimes it would amaze her, but this was not one of those times.

She swore her ears were bleeding, they were screaming and crying and strangling all wishes she had of sleep. The bed was too soft and everything was too soft, too quiet, yet not quiet at all and she was so fucking bored, so fucking drained of everything and anything except irritation and the need for something and anything, something loud, something sharp to wake her up, something terrifying or something anything everything that could make her feel something anything everything.

She needed it, and she needed it desperately, all things aside, fuck who she was, and especially fuck that shitty fucking game he was playing.

“Fuck! Your stupid! Game! Tomura!”

She hadn’t even realized she’d slid off the bed and was standing on her numb feet, game controller snatched from him in one second and smashed to smithereens on the wall in the next.

She looked more shook than him, if he was being honest.

Nonetheless.

“What the fuck?!”

He was mad, no, he was fuming.

And she lived for it.

“I swear, you’re gonna pay-”

He hadn’t even reached her before her lips split into a grin, eyes like lightning awaiting the thunder.

“Gladly, punish me, do something, do anything!”

She wasn’t proud with her playful hinting, but you aren’t supposed to live your life without doing things you regret. And though she was playing spoiled brat for a notorious villain, the most dangerous individual she’d ever met, he also had a cock crafted by monsters that seemed to hit every spot it needed to, finding and creating new ones as it filled her up to the brim and she was salivating just by the thought of being split open on it, especially by seeing what mood she’d conjured from him.

But, even though her pride dripped from between her thighs, she was not too eager to plainly say that she desired his dick balls-deep within her needy cunt.

“What?”

He’d stopped in his tracks, eyeing her. And though some part of him wanted to believe what disgusting depraved thoughts he had regarding why she was seeking his attention, he knew better, rendering her annoyance to simply picking a fight with her captor, quite like a how child throws tantrums at their parents or prisoners riot.

Turns out her playful words did little to sway his thoughts regarding the situation.

“You’ve been playing your dumb videogames all week!” She whined, almost screeching. Eyes angry and lips pouty.

He wanted nothing more but to show her what bad behaviour would give her, but seeing how punishment would be giving her what she had requested, he wasn’t too quick to fold to his desires.

“It feels like I’m dying, make me feel something, anything…”

She was pleading he realized, and stopped in wonder at the revelation.

She was pleading with him, begging for him, for anything of him, anything meaning anything…

Yet… surely not what he wanted it to mean.

“No.” He forced on a nonchalant tone. “You smashed my controller, I’m not rewarding you for that, there are nicer ways of asking…” He drawled and turned casually to get back in his chair, pondering his need to purchase another custom-made console, thinking he had a couple things he wanted to fix anyway.

Was she really going to have to be so literal? Was she really going to have to bend over and beg for him to take her? Was she really going to have to serve him her heart, her spirit, her mind, and soul and body on a silver platter for him to take it?

She thought he was greedy. She thought he was depraved enough to hear what she was asking of him.

No way he was ignoring the invitation, right?

If that were the case, he could at least mock her for her begging, but he barely seemed to even recognise her change in attitude at all. Granted, she couldn’t really see much of his expression beneath that mop of hair.

She wanted to scream, pull her hair out of her head, yet as her knees hit the floor and Tomura sat back down in his chair, she realized she had but one thing to do.

Crawl.

She was silent, shuffling under the table, taking one gluttonous drag through her nose, mouth watering at the reek of male musk, his musk, Tomura’s musk, a smell so undeniably him.

She wasn’t sure she wanted to let him know she was there yet, but decided to be a tease and better prepare him for what she was about to do.

Experienced and confident fingers pressed a woman’s touch to his ankles, running skilled tender touches over the flexing of his calves’ muscles, despite feeling him tense beneath her. Undiscouraged as they went smoothly over his thighs to reach the hem of his boxers, reaching inside them to pull out what she was proud to feel thick and stiff and just as needy as her, warm and pulsating in her tiny palm.

Handling him delicately. First she licked her lips wet and gave the head a pretty popping kiss, before producing her tongue like a pillow for the cap and flicking the pink muscle from side to side under the sensitive skin that was already oozing with precum onto her tastebuds.

She her his breath stifle, but allowed him no rest as she closed her warm wet mouth around him.

He broke instantly.

Now knowing it wasn’t his mind playing tricks.

“Fuck! You win, you win!” He hissed, hand wrapping around her throat to pull her up from her conquering. “If I’d known what a needy little slut you were I'd have given you cock earlier. You should’ve just said so...”

They both giggled ludically as he threw her down on the bed, Thrill already bubbling up a storm on her insides with such lust to be fucked out of her bloody mind she was quaking from head to toe and screaming out her moan when he pushed perfectly into her wetness in one fell swoop.

TAKAMI KEIGO - HAWKS

-NECESSITY

He heard the padding of her approach. Soft footed and gentle. Not at all like how she would usually stomp around in rage of being trapped.

He didn’t look up at first, thinking she didn’t want anything to do with him, as per usual, yet in his blurry unfocused vision he could spot she’d stopped in front of him, waiting for his acknowledgement, where he sat on the coach, undisturbed and undisturbing until now, scrolling through his phone.

He decided to ignore her, testing to see if she’d speak up and announce her demands, yet was surprised to see she stood there patiently, no words, no screams.

Curiosity getting the better of him he looked up, finding her standing there bare-footed, skin wet, towel wrapped around her, hair dripping, eyes leaking, though not from shower-water, but from brimming with tears.

His instincts kicked in then at the sight of her.

“Are you okay?”

He sprung from the coach, expecting her to push him away once he reached for her, yet was surprised to feel her attach to him, latch around him, welcome his warmth and his offered condolence instead of her usual rejection and snarling.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry, why are you crying?”

He realized then that her body was quaking, seemingly febrile, so much plead knotted between her brows he’d never seen anything like it.

It made him concerned to say the least, eyes searching her body for any possible explanation in the form of bruises, thinking maybe she’d hurt herself, already scolding himself for having left her alone.

“Baby? What's going-”

He didn’t smell it at first, what with the scent being washed off and all at the hands of her shower, but the aroma was soon layered thick in the room, growing alongside her desperation.

A scent so heavenly, so lavish and sweet and ambrosial, already making water pool in his mouth.

Her shaking made sense then, so did the tears, and the desperation and the potent adorable look of despair written all over her pitiful little cute face.

“Oh… I see.”

He was going to take advantage of this.

He was going to ring it for every drop it was worth.

“Does my little angel need me?” His voice shed its concern swiftly, curling into something sweetly sadistic and salacious.

His fingers hung onto her chin, or rather, her chin hung off his fingers.

“If you ask nicely perhaps I’ll-”

“You’re being cruel.” She stated, voice so sweet, so vulnerable, breaking as she sniffled, bottom lip trembling so preciously, as he wasn’t sure the shower-water was instead not indeed sweat. Knees weak, arms heavy, head pounding, stomach hurting, eating her from the inside in desperate need to feed the bottomless hunger that was growing and weeping in her lower abdomen.

Her hand held loosely over her stomach, visibly shaking.

He ignored her statement. “That was a long shower…” It was an insinuating observation, cocky in its nature. “Were you trying to help yourself on the showerhead?”

He quirked a brow at him, a smirk playing in the corner of his mouth.

“Trying to get out of grovelling for me, hm? Despite knowing how my cock is the only thing that can save you.”

He was gleeful, sadistic bliss tickling through his body, sending pleasure through every nerve, because he knew, he knew he was right and he knew what was coming. He knew she would fold, surrender, succumb, and he knew how grateful she’d be afterwards, dripping with his cum, eyes opium-blown, euphoric and fluttering, and looking at him with such wholehearted, such won-over love.

Though, know all that filled her eyes were glistening tears and swirling suffering.

“It hurts…”

His heart clenched at that.

She looked like a toddler, small and weak and helpless and innocent, as though if it weren’t for her predicament she wouldn’t be abusing every ounce of energy in her being to make him miserable.

How ironic, she being the miserable one now, all dependent on him.

“It hurts, please, please help me, help me, Keigo.”

She was aching. Her small needy hands coming to grab at him, to pull him closer as she sobbed, whining so beautifully for him.

“I need you, Keigo.”

He was getting wrapped up in it, hanging onto every perfect needy jerking she did to try and get closer, to try and help herself against him, licking it up as though he was parched

And he was, he truly was, she’d drained him dry, rejecting each and every proclamation of his love. She’d laughed at it, waged war against it, and here she was, finally, embracing it, begging for it.

He realized, he needed this just as much as she did.

He didn’t need anything weightless like a stupid apology, he just needed to hear her say those pretty words.

“I need Hawks.”

Her eyes grew dark, pupils blown wide with lust as her words were laced with such feral carnality.

His hands grabbed ahold of her ample hips, grinding her into himself, where she met his attack by effortlessly maneuvering her legs to wrap around his torso, hands cupping his face as she peered into his eyes, wanting to drown herself in the gold.

“I need you deep inside me, filling me up, wreaking me…”

Her lips hovered above his own as she clutched tightly onto him, begging with every inch of her body, clinging to him as though it were for her very life.

“I need your cum, I need you to fuck me until I can’t walk or talk or think or feel, until I’m numb and all I can see is you, all I can think is you, all I am is you and yours.”

He was left awestruck by the way she looked at him, as though he were the world, or her god, with so much love and so much desperate desire and fear.

A fear he’d come to know all too much chasing her. A fear of rejection, a fear of having her heart broken, a feeling that’s all too much like dying.

“I need your love, please, please love me, Keigo.”

He couldn’t refuse, despite wanting to have used this opportunity as a lesson, he couldn’t. He couldn’t leave her suffering and he most definitely couldn’t leave himself suffering now that his cock was hungry for the attention she was all too eager to give him.

SHINSO HITOSHI

-SUBMITANCE

She knew she should be disgusted, she knew she should be angry, she should be fighting it.

If she were the feral creature quite alike the lioness or tigress or any other wild cat, she should by law be scratching and clawing and snarling. She should revolt, reject, uproar at the feel of a collar around her throat.

But here she was, big wide glossy opium-soaked eyes staring up at her Master and his compelling lilac orbs, feeling her stomach curl at the feel of his big fist tugging her leash as he hovers above her, purring like a little kitten, like the little kitten she was, at the feel of his swollen thick cock filling her up so snuggly, breeding her good, while she drools at the collar put, not just on her throat, but on her mind, panting over the thought of having his commands lick every nerve of her body, making her twist and bend and bow all to his wishes.

Fluffy tail wrapped around his leg, holding onto him in the softest form of embrace as her hands are otherwise occupied with being tied to the bed-post.

She whimpered, aching fingers wanting to touch, to run smooth soft fingertips over his skin, his scars, tangle in his wild lavish purple locks.

She bit her lip and clenched around the member inside her, making him groan as he bottomed-out and pulled back again.

“Could- could Master… untie me?” She needed to ask, voice timid and hopeful, again feeling him slowly inch into her core, messaging her insides, her walls kissing alongside his girth, sucking on him gratefully.

He quirked an eyebrow, as if to ask why, or to tell her why he couldn’t do that.

“I want to touch you…” She pleaded, a confession so sweet and voice anything but brazen or wanton, blinking shamefully, guilty of her lust, even though in the light of what he’d done to her and made her do to him, it sounded like mere child’s play, something she shouldn’t even be allowed to be embarrassed about.

His eyes scanned her, curious, doubting her, yet having felt how her legs wrapped around his torso, and the ever-playful cuddling tail that had slithered between his thighs and latched itself around his ankle, tugging on him like such a clingy little devoted kitty.

His lips curled up into a smile, looking down at his little bashful housebroken pet, thrilled to see her look up at him too, eyes full of awe on both sides, lustful, loving.

He pushed himself fully into her, cockhead kissing her cervix, and she gave a mew, moaning while he bowed down to meet her lips with his.

His hands danced up her arms, drumming alongside her limbs before they met with the knots around her wrists, tugging them loose.

Once she was free she hesitated. Eyes still so wide, as though asking for permission, as though asking for guidance, or… as though she were waiting for him to tell her what to do, and then, as though a question was burning at her lips.

“Master… ask me a question?” She requested, slowly bringing her hands down from their position, placing them around the back of his neck, fingers playing with his soft wild hair.

He needed to take a second or two to really fathom what she’d just said, where his mind seemed to leap once he did.

“Something you don’t want the answer to.”

He swallowed thickly, suddenly feeling a rush of blood pool in his cheeks. His breathe grew heavy and eyes intense.

“Do you know what you’re asking?”

He needed to be sure, he needed to hear her say it, admit to it

His doubts were answered as she blinked, biting her lips, looking away shyly, clearly knowing how wrong it was of her to request him entering and playing with her mind like that.

“Yes…”

He couldn’t help but smile at her timidity, how she blushed under his gaze. But still, he needed her to give him the entirety of her desire.

“Tell me…”

He rested his forehead on her hers, happy with butterflies in his stomach at the feel of her affectionate hands running through his locks.

“What do you want from me, Kitten?”

Her breath shuddered, legs climbing higher up his back, pulling him closer. Their eyes so adamant on looking, drowning in the other. His storm of lilac so dominant and dangerous, making her mouth water and toes curl and head flutter with knowing how she was completely trapped, completely where he wanted her, loving it all the same, finding refuge in the fact, finding safety and belonging and peace.

“I want…”

Her eyes where only wide, wide with hope and searching for if he’d catch her when she now jumped, leaped into his arms.

“I want you. I want your- your teeth in my mind, marking me, making me yours, making me… feel…”

All of her was clinging to him now, her tail so neatly and snuggly slithered around his ankle, as though chaining him to her, her hands as well entangled with the unruly hair at the nape of his neck, her legs wrapped around him so tightly and desperately, pussy clenching around his cock like a vice, and her eyes hanging off of all and everything of what was giving her.

“Making you feel what?” He pushed, giving another thrust where he barely pulled out only to rock into her again.

“Safe.”

That was such an innocent word, such a sweet wish it made his heart hurt with something he couldn’t quite place, whether it was guilt or satisfaction he couldn’t tell.

“Will you do that? For me?”

He could get lost in those eyes of hers forever, those moon-big round eyes, opium-black and blown pupils so wide he thought he was falling through space with how much they reflected the limited light inside their room.

“Do you love me?” He asked then, fearing the answer.

“Yes.”

A word can be so many things, a vow, a promise, an echo, a welcome.

Her eyes went blank then, but not before she gave the softest hum as though to say thank you as she felt his presence seep into her mind. Her limbs losing all types of stress, becoming numb and soft. All her worries blanketed, where all she dreamt of was velvet lilac-tinted oceans, getting drunk on grapes and the smell of lavender and all things purple like those great godlike eyes staring down at her, the ones keeping her spellbound and tethered in a deadlock, the ones she belonged to.

CHISAKI KAI - OVERHAUL

-COMFORT

The slamming shut of the apartment door, followed by the digital clicking of the lock being closed is how she knew he was home.

He hadn’t said anything.

Where usually he would at least greet her as she quickly sprung across the marble floors to welcome him home, take his jacket, kiss his cheek, all so perfectly like he’d taught her.

He hadn’t said anything.

No ‘I missed you’ or ‘thank you, princess’.

He hadn’t said anything at all.

But most things with Kai weren’t verbal anyway.

She’d learned to pick up cues, analyze a raised brow, or a slight shift in posture, or the almost imperceptible narrowing of his eyes.

He hadn’t said anything, but the scowl that accompanied his aura spoke volumes to the girl. Finding his state of mind, concerned with what she found, as it was not his usual nonchalance nor his occasional contempt, but bitter.

He groaned then, once she’d helped him out of his jacket, green and tacky, purple faux fluff, something so out-of-place on Kai, yet also serving as one of his key recognizable traits.

He kicked off his shoes, also something so very out of character it brought her concern, followed by him shuffling, feet dragging on the floors in complete opposition to how he would usually walk, with his head held high, regarding the floor as though it should be grateful to be gifted by him walking on it.

Now though, he slumped, still without a word, up the stairs, sauntering without haste, without enthusiasm, all in goal of reaching the bed, which he laid out flat on once he got to it.

“Are you okay?” She asked timidly, having followed him and standing unsurely on the threshold of the door, not knowing whether she was welcome or not.

He simply pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing, giving her the answer she’d guessed already.

“Can I do anything to help?” Again, she kept her voice soft and tender, hopeful; cheerful in hopes of cheering him up.

“I doubt it.” His answer was curt and bitter as he sat up on the bed, tugging loose his tie with an exhausted growl of irritation.

She padded around the bed then, not exactly having been given an invitation to stay, but not exactly having been given any indication to leave either.

Careful as she climbed up behind him, like a cat easing in on its prey, gracious and soft and focused on not alarming or disturbing the goal.

“Surely there must be something I can do?”

His ears picked up on the play in her voice, the thin hairs at the back of his neck rising, yet his curiosity was stifled as her hands, once so small and insignificant, became the hands of God.

Fingers kneading into his back, thorough and forceful yet welcomed by him through a breathy guttural groan, closing his eyes with much needed rest as he let himself fall completely to the feeling of her messaging all his tense stress right out of his shoulders, seemingly sucking all the bad out of him.

He gave yet another throaty groan as her fingers rubbed and dug into his back, her hand stopping his head from slugging forward, cupping him tenderly and guided him to rest against the softness of her chest instead.

“Do you feel better now?”

She spoke like how a mother should, sweet like summer breeze, just above a whisper, eager to please, affectionate, without ill-will, without anything to gain, selfless and beautiful, and something he was in desperate need of.

He moaned, a long dragged out breathy moan, one filled with such potent gratitude it made her smile.

“Getting there...”

She hummed, her hands like absolution handling his back like dough, thumbs rubbing the stiffness into tender soft flesh once again, working through the knots, before climbing, mounting his shoulders and ensnaring his neck, gentle fingers running smoothly to unbutton his shirt, her face nuzzling in his neck as it was exposed to her, soft plump lips kissing the sensitive skin found there, knowing exactly where to focus, hearing him moan in relief as she zeroed in on his soft-spot.

Her hands running, dancing down his chest, unbuttoning the last of his buttons, helping him slide out of it.

Quick to take her bra off, still while kissing his neck, before pushing her warm soft mounds into his back, hugging herself against him.

“How about now?” Her voice like honey as her words tickled on his neck.

“Almost…”

She slithered around to seat herself in his lap, hands cupping his cheeks as she leaned in to kiss him, naked chest rubbing up against naked chest, warm and soft, homey and safe.

Her hand drummed playfully down his stomach, reaching his pants, moving skillfully on its own to undo the belt-buckle, then the button, then pulling down the zipper.

He shuffled them down his thighs on his own, still keeping his chin lifted to receive her kisses. His clothed erection bumping up into the thin protection of her panties.

Her hand, still so smoothly, reached under the band of his boxers to pull him out. Though his rough way of ripping her lacy underwear off managed to break through her calm demeanor as she yelped a bit and flinched.

However the surprise was quickly followed by giggles as she continued to kiss him, feeling his smirk against her lips and soon his hand cupping her ass before running hungry pressured fingertips around her thigh to play with her slit, thumb roughly pushing into her clit as other reckless digits ran though her folds to test the waters, quite parallel to how carefully she handled his cock with her own elegant hand, rubbing him up and down ever so gently, with the tenderness he carved.

He hissed once her thumb rubbed over his sensitive head, biting into her lip, and though his beastly impulses used to alarm her, now she could only think of them as an invitation.

Holding his cock up to her entrance, giving him time to remove his fingers from her now soaking folds.

She sunk down on him slowly, moaning softly against his lips as he groaned upon hers.

“Better now?” She asked, without giving way to the cockiness her question carried, but he deciphered it with ease nonetheless, giving her ass a playful squeeze before guiding her to lay down on her back, nibbling on her neck as he chuckled at how she disguised her devilish naughty humour as being innocent, wanting to make her choke on that haughtiness as he gave a quick sharp thrust up into her.

Her moan rung throughout the massive penthouse where no doors were kept closed, as he licked the sin right off her expression with one needy hungry kiss and a promise as well as a threat.

“I will be once I hear you scream my name, princess.”

TIP-JAR

5K notes · View notes

sunflowerdarlingx · 3 years

Text

“Such good manners” - GW 18+

18+

Hi everyone, I hope you’re all okay <3

Here is my first George story, considering making a part two so let me know what you think!

Female Reader

Warnings: public fingering, daddy kink

Minors DNI

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

George was waiting outside of Y/N’s common room for her so they could go to breakfast. She came out of the entrance, her skirt a little shorter than normal and she had missed a button on her shirt, the lace of her little white bra on show for everyone. George stood against the wall, eyes studying her every move, from the way her hips swayed a little more than normal whilst her robe fell off her shoulder slightly to the cute lace that highlighted her chest.

She shrugged her robe back up her shoulder and smiled up at George. “Morning Georgie” she got on her tippy toes to give him a kiss, he met her lips in the middle (still having to bend slightly so she could reach him) and wrapped his arms around her waist.

He turned and pushed her back against the wall “what’s this angel?” his voice low in her ear while he ran the back of his hand down her chest, lightly tracing over the lace “thought you only put on a show for me” he fake pouted. He buttoned up two buttons on her shirt “that’s better isn't it” his eyes flicked up to hers, lips pressing a soft kiss to her cheek.

Y/N nodded,grabbing Georges hand and pulling him to breakfast. They sat at the Gryffindor table, George at one side and Y/N at the other as she quickly had to speak to one of the slytherins about a piece of homework.

“can you pass me the marmalade?” she asked sweetly whilst grabbing a piece of toast as she sat down.

“Not gonna say please?” he questioned with a slight smirk, she looked up at him and repeated herself, “can you pass me the marmalade, please”.

He passed her the little pot, “such a good girl using your manners, aren't you angel?” Y/N’s cheeks painted red at his reply and nodded her head slightly.

Soon George was making his way to his last class of the day which he shared with Y/N. As he approached the classroom, he noticed she was surrounded by Pucey and his mates, giggling away to their stupid jokes. The button of her shirt was undone again and George couldn't decide if she was doing it on purpose or if her shirt needed a new button.

Y/N noticed George and excused herself, she wrapped her arms around his waist “I’ve missed you” she took in a deep breath as the smell of his aftershave surrounded her. He placed a kiss to the top of her head and smiled. His hands rested on her shoulders as he pulled her back, eyes meeting hers.

“What did Pucey and his band of gits want?” his voice was serious as he looked her up and down.

“Oh, they walked me from potions, just talking a load of rubbish I suppose” she said innocently, on her tippy toes to place a kiss to his jaw.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure they just wanted to talk” he said sarcastically and grabbed her shirt, fastening the buttons once more “I think he walked you because he knew he could get a good view of this if he did”.

“I...I didn’t even notice” she mumbled, blushing slightly from embarrassment “sorry”. He kissed her lips softly and shrugged “don't be embarrassed angel,” he knew her like the back of his hand, “just, make sure your shirt is all done up properly next time, okay baby?” he placed another kiss to her lips.

Y/N nodded her head. “What do you say?” he asked and ran his hand up and down her cheek.

“I’ll make sure it’s done up properly” they both smiled at each other before making their way into charms. They sat in their regular seat in the back of the class. George watched Y/N carefully as she bit the tip of her pen, concentrating on everything Flitwick told them, her tongue poking out slightly as her pen danced along her parchment.

He couldn’t help but think about how cute she looked when she concentrated. She took a sip from a bottle of water and he watched as a single drop ran down the corner of her mouth, her tongue quickly swiping to catch it. His cock twitched slightly as he watched every movement.

After about 20 minutes, he noticed her hand drop down to her thigh, pushing it up slightly and dragging her nails against the skin. Now his eyes burned into her thigh, knowing fine well that all he had to do was push it up a little further and her cute little pussy would be on show for him.

He placed his hand on her knee, sliding closer beside her, she smiled innocently up at him and patted his hand before bringing her hand up to write more notes.

He ran his hand further up her thigh and pushed up her skirt, his breath caught in his throat at the pair of white lace knickers that were revealed. He smirked at her, noticing how she was starting to get flustered - her eyes wide.

He ran his hand over the waistband of her underwear before running down over her clit and slit before sliding it up to concentrate on her clit. She felt her panties dampan, a quiet squeak left her mouth which she covered up with a cough before drinking some water.

Once she put her bottle down, she placed both of her hands around his wrist to try and stop his movements, too scared someone would see.

George leaned into her ear, his hot breath against her, turning her on even more. “I can feel how wet you are angel” he kissed just under her ear “Let me play with what's mine, don’t you wanna be good for me baby?”.

His words alone made her wetter, she nodded her head, face and neck flushed red. She looked around the room, everyone was too busy paying attention to Flitwick to notice George playing with her. Her hands slowly lifted off of his hand and he chuckled lowly “always so good for me”.

He continued to rub her over her underwear before pulling them to the side, running his finger up her slit, gathering all of her juices.

“Is all of this for me Angel?” he asked in her ear, subtly bringing his finger to his mouth for a taste. Y/N held in a whimper and nodded. “What was that?” he teased.

She looked at him, eyes a bit glossy, “all for you” she bit her lip as his finger moved back down to her, two fingers teasing her entrance.

“Gonna need you to be a bit louder for me next time gorgeous, can you do that?” he hummed in her ear as he pushed two fingers into her dripping cunt. She nodded, a breathy “yes” leaving her lips and George moved his fingers in and out of her.

He added in a third finder and Y/N’s hips bucked slightly “You’ve got to sit still pretty girl, you don’t want anyone to see us do you?” he smirked as she bit her lip hard.

Soon enough he felt her walls clench around his fingers. She lay her head onto the side of his shoulder “C..can I cum Georgie?” she mumbled as her hand gripped around his wrist.

“That's not m’name” his fingers sped up slightly in her “need to ask properly baby if you wanna cum”.

Y/N looked around the room before looking back at George, “p...please daddy” she whimpered and mumbled into his shoulder, so quietly he almost missed it.

“Go on gorgeous, cum on my fingers” and she did, eyes shut tight, legs shaking slightly in her chair as she bit down on her lip to stop herself from moaning. George smirked down at her, fingers slowing before he pulled them out, moving her panties back to their original position before wiping his fingers against his clothed thigh, not thinking he could subtly taste her juices of three of his fingers.

He sat up straight and wrapped his arm around the back of her chair as he rubbed soothing circles on her back. The class ended about five minutes later, George stood up and grabbed his bag, slinging it around his shoulders before grabbing Y/Ns off of her chair once she placed her half finished notes in.

They walked to the first set of stairs which began to move, Y/N pressed her back onto George's chest as she relaxed into him. They were the only two on the stairs, Y/N was a step higher than George.

“Better listen good angel cause I won't be repeating. Fred and Lee are away to Hogsmeade to get some supplies so we have my dorm to ourselves. I need to quickly meet them on the third floor but you’re gonna go to the common room and go straight to my dorm, y’know the password. I want you undressed and on all fours, think you can do that for me?” she turned to face him, and nodded. George raised his eyebrows at her, jaw clenched

“Yes daddy, I can do that” she got out quickly. His hand wrapped around the front of her neck, pulling her in for a kiss before the stairs stopped moving.

Y/N practically tripped up the stairs as she followed her boyfriend's instructions, George giving her arse a quick smack before turning and walking down the corridor.

“Such a good girl” he smirked to himself.

PART TWO

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

Masterlist

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - Please pop me a message and I will try my best to write what you want <3

#george weasley smut #george weasley imagine #george weasly x reader

545 notes · View notes

waywardimpalawriter · 3 years

Note

Could you do a Bucky/Reader fic for 16 on the smut prompts?

The intimacy of shaving

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Sam Wilson x Reader

Bucky Bingo Square: New haircut square

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Sarah Wilson

Setting: three months after the end of Falcon and the Winter Soldier

Rating: M (Mature), E (explicit), NSFW, +18 only please

Warnings: fluff, angst, bickering, smut, oral female receiving, yearning, pining, unrequited love, smutty dreams, broken bones, mention of torture, Bucky’s old memories,

Word count: 10,800

Summary: Frustrated with being left behind, worry taking hold after finding out just a fraction of how bad your boys are. Making you start to search your feeling's for both men. Especially with the intimacy of giving Bucky a hair cut and shave. Unexpected emotions surface on all parts.

Notes: Sequel too “My own worse enemy," filling in a bingo square for #buckybingo and also an Anon request asking for smut prompt #16 “I’m going to die if you don’t let me cum.” Hope you don't mind me adding Sam into the mix sweetie. Also for my head cannon Sam uses Delacroix LA for his base of operation. Wanting to help take care of his family while taking on the mantle of Captain America. Hope you enjoyed doll.

Tag list’s: Are open

@buckybingo

Forever’s: @jedi-mando @chickensarentcheap

Bucky Barnes list: @learisa @eclipses-and-moondust

Story list: @sammyissassy @feelmyroarrrr

Wearing a path from the kitchen to living room ignoring Sarah’s stare, thumb nail damn near nibbled to the bed with how much your chewing the poor abused finger. Cell phone pressed to your ear, listening to Sams deep baritone, “What’d ya mean three places Samuel? How the f-ing hell did you both managed to get so banged up?”

“Explanations will roll out once we touch down Y/N for now know at least he didn’t break his funny bone that’s still none existence,” glancing towards Bucky stretched out over the metal helo bench. Right arm in a sling snug to his body, thick plaster cast covering from mid bicep to mid palm, fingers still visible.

“I heard that and I do to have a sense of humor just not your brand of stupid jokes bird brain,” deep voice unmistakably Bucky’s catching a wobble in the cadence not there when last they spoke.

Swiping a hand over your face wanting to kill them both for leaving you behind. Plans to do just that forming in your mind while snarking, “Remind me again why exactly you chose to leave me behind?”

Staying home you could’ve possibly worked with, the unknown danced on your nerves more than you’d give credit to. Having grown even closer to both men over the last six months, always brushing those pesky feelings and thoughts away that surface during weak moments of worry or sleep.

“To dangerous and I’m not arguing with you on those semantics it’s bad enough cyborg got the shit beaten out of him,” quickly pulling the phone from his ear at the high pitched sound from down the line. Forgetting a moment your attachment to both men, “You finished?”

Low growl in answer, biting off the curses you wish to fling at both Captain America and the Winter Soldier. “Don’t worry you’re in for it once you get home. ETA?” Checking the watch strapped to your left wrist, “I’ll come pick y’all up, gotta stop in town for supplies anyway.”

“No worries my trucks at base I’ll get Buck and myself home.” Glancing at his watch, “Landing in about two hours, think you can grab a couple of Miss Bridgette’s pecan pies?”

Too many years working with that man not to know what he likes, “For the shit you and Barnes pulled get your own pie man.” Soft chuckles lets you know Sarah heard you. Eyes locking with her’s for a moment seeing the worry in those warm browns matching as you knew in your own. “Just bring you asses home so Sarah and I can roast them.”

Almost feeling the deep groan from over the phone line, “What did you tell her?”

“Nothing since that’s what I got,” shaking head tips to the side picking up on Sam’s easy breathing and the helo’s engines in the back ground. “Just get home dumbass,” affection in your tone. Ending the call, slipping the cell into your front pocket to flop down into the worn out but still comfortable couch.

“They get hurt?” Anxiety tainting her voice from across the room.

Peeking through your fingers at her, dropping them to your thighs to run the length of denim covered skin, “Don’t know really, Sam sounds fine but a concussion or another type of head injury wouldn’t show it’s self right away. From what I did gather they finished up the mission a little over four hours ago, in flight for the last two.”

“What about Bucky?” Meeting your eyes having confided in her years ago about the crush harbored for a certain metal armed ex-assassin turned Cap’s left hand man. Always leaving out the other part of your secret crush. “Speaking of which you ever gonna tell them how you feel?”

“Busting chops about that again Sarah?” Exasperated sigh marches passed barely parted lips, “Something’s broke in three places that’s all Sam ‘Stubborn ass’ Wilson would say. Just not which one of them or what body part exactly.” Firmly ignoring her last question and not picking up on the fact she said them instead of him. To stand hands to hips, leaning back to stretch and possibly pop your spine. “I’m going to town you wanna come or need anything.”

“And you call Sam stubborn,” head shaking with a fond smile tipping her lips upward. Picking up the subtle shift in your demeanor as relief floods your system with knowing they're coming home at least safe. Having guessed your feelings for her older brother not long ago however, keeping that little tidbit to herself. “I’ll come with, give you company and grief along the way. The boy’s won’t come home till later anyway.”

Eyes roll you reach for the car keys on the coffee table, patting your back pocket to check for wallet and the front for cell phone. “Ready to roll?”

Hour and a half later arms loaded with grocery bags, making sure to hide Miss Bridgette’s pie’s from Sam, you and Sarah set to work putting everything away. Setting to work fixing dinner efficiently dancing around each other like a well oiled machine working together in tandem getting each task done. Back door quietly trying to open, Sam poking his head around the well loved oak wood door. Showing a face littered with cuts, a busted bottom lip and dark shadow of a black eye around his left. But his smile still widens flashing pearly whites at seeing the two of you. Entering, Sam places a large locking suit case and round leather carry case not far from the door.

Soft gasp leave’s Sarah’s lips, quickly moving towards her brother to look him over, “You were ugly before now it’s just worse bro.”

Snort existed through his nose, stepping fully into the house with a limp on his right side, accepting the hug she gives him carefully. “You should see the other guy.”

“I’m the other guy,” voice slightly strained but still light almost playful unlike the Bucky of months ago. Though seeing him coming around Sam, arm cradled close in a black cloth sling. Peeks of plaster noticeable making you groan, head shaking at the very sight of him. Assortment of bruises littered his face, his own busted lip, and a three inch cut circling just above his collarbone. Seeing the storm brewing in your eyes, “No we didn’t fight and Sam didn’t cause these wonderful souvenirs.”

“Stupid ass got captured, wouldn’t listen to my plan…”

“You didn’t have a plan Sam not a logistical one…”

“Oh, so you bulldozing in like a raging bull in a China shop worked so well. Who got capture?” Pressing a finger behind his ear to lift the shell listening for Bucky’s answer. “I’m sorry I can’t hear you. You’re gonna say you right Robo soldier cause that’s the correct answer.”

Exasperated with them both, “Shut it and sit down dinner’s ready. I swear the two of you fight worse than Cass and AJ.” Authority ringing through Sarah’s tone cutting eyes at both men.

“Oh sweetheart Cass and AJ have nothing on these two bone heads, more maturity in their little bodies than both of them put together.” Rubbing your temples trying to fend off the building migraine behind your eyes. “Listening to constant bickering I wanna put them in a ‘Get along shirt.'”

Scowl in place while giving them a full once over. Cataloguing the damage you could see and wondering about that which you couldn’t. Noticing the length of Bucky’s hair almost a shaggy just falling a little over his ears and brushing the collar of the black t-shirt he’s wearing. Full beard dusting his cheeks and chin reminding you of those days long gone back in Wakanda. In contrast to Sam’s neatly kept mustache and goatee, close cropped haircut smartly framing his handsome face. Looking much like the day he and Bucky left three months ago on their reconnaissance mission. Knowing better as looks deceive and clothes cover up places eyes can’t see without stripping them naked. The very thought peeking interest but pushing those thoughts back with a frown. Of course it doesn’t stop you from wanting to hug them both mindful of injures unseen that brings a scowl to your features.

“You wouldn’t?” Traces of fear slicing through those deep russet browns. “I thought you loved me Y/N?”

Speaking over Sam, “What’s a ‘Get along’ shirt?”

Caught between wanting to roll her eyes and chuckle, “It’s a big shirt we’d put the two of you in till ya stop bickering like children and actually get along.” Dishing up dinner, Sarah looks towards both men. Trying hard not to burst out laughing at the sour look on Sam’s face nor the still slightly confused one on Bucky’s.

“I see smoke coming from his ears,” snarky quip receiving a back handing smack to his arm.

Bowel’s placed at the table, “Aim for the head next time Sar.” Taking the seat on Sam’s right offering him a cheekily smile, “Might actually knock the few brain cells he has left around and jump start the hamster running the wheel.”

“You both wound me,” clutching his chest dramatically. “With friends and family like this who can you trust.”

“Dramatic’s must come with handling the shield,” cerulean eyes rolling edged with teasing tone. Glancing towards Sam first then you beside him, going to explain for Sarah’s benefit. “Steve could put on some high melodrama back in the day. Much like Samuel here.” Scratching at his chin with vibranium fingers, a low hiss only you catch sounds when the plates catch the little hairs.

Scoffing, “Only Sarah calls me that first off, second look who’s talking Mr. Bionic Staring machine scaring off everyone who comes within two feet. Dramatics run through your veins just as well. ”

“Children,” both women exclaim hands coming down to slam the table at the same. Before time digging into dinner as the back door opens with Cass and AJ storming inside with excited chatter upon seeing both Sam and Bucky.

Each asking about what happened, how’d the mission go and why exactly Bucky’s sporting a sling and cast. All questions peeking the interested of both women with brows raised and narrowed eyes.

“Settle in first and eat dinner,” Sam intones wanting to keep most of what happened from his family. “For the most part the mission went successful.”

Very unladylike snort leaves your nose hidden behind a glass of sweet tea you sip from, “At least you came back in one piece or three in someone’s case.” Eyes narrow even farther on Bucky who has the good graces to look sheepish and divert his eyes.

“But the super serum why didn’t it help like that,” AJ snapped his little fingers for emphasis on the quickness the serum should work or so he thinks.

“Doesn’t quiet work that way AJ,” Bucky starts running a hand through his longer than usual hair. Giving a short frustrated tug before returning to the topic at hand. “Yeah the serum helps speed up the healing process it’s not instantaneous and,” pausing to side eye you not wanting to admit there’s more injures than just his arm.

Scowl returning having a feeling you know why he’s paused in explaining, “Takes longer to heal when multiple injures are involved.”

Dinner finishes with other questions, skirting the full truth about the mission, discussing the coming week with work and school. Sam’s boyish smile appears when Sarah brings out the pie, cutting out slices to pass around with Reddi-whip, coffee for the adults, milk for the kids. Silence settles for a moment the enjoyment of pie more important to savor and only once done do you raise to start cleaning up.

“I’ll,” shooting Sarah a look with a shake of your head.

“You got paperwork to catch up on babe I’ve got this, besides Sam volunteered to help. Didn’t you Sam?” Shooting a look his way, clearly speaking volumes if the answer comes back no.

Brow arched in question but thought better then to ask, though he flips the script on you, “Of course, Bucky volunteer’s.” Quickly moving away from the hand threatening to land a hard punch to his right thigh. Almost toppling to the floor in his hast to move Sam tweaked his hip a twinge of pain slicing through his features.

“Serves you right Wilson,” thought a slice of regret skates across your thoughts. Head shaking you stand gathering plates as the boys excuse themselves to play video games.

“Homework first or I’m taking those games away,” Sarah yells after them looking in your direction for a second. “You got these two?” Pointing at each of them in turn with her own frown dropping her lips downward.

“Sadly yes,” exasperation clearly written in the rigidness of you stance and narrowing to slits of your eyes. “Blissfully unaware or want to know everything?”

“Unaware I’m just happy their back whole,” nodding Sarah takes her leave, heading for the home office.

Times flown, six months in fact since Karli’s death and Sam taking over the mantle of Captain America. Going above and beyond to change how the worlds become and see’s the shield. Using Delacroix as home base to keep himself grounded and around for his family. Surprisingly enough including you and Bucky the house feels a touch over crowded but wouldn’t want things any different.

“Care to explain what that means?” Limping with hands full towards the sink, Sam places his arm load down watching you move around the kitchen. Putting leftovers up, setting to work on the dishes, the familiarity you exude warms a place in Sam’s heart. Always pushing those thoughts from his mind, your his best friend and wouldn’t see him in any other way. Especially with your heart firmly filled with Bucky.

Giving your back to both men and only acknowledging their presence when Bucky comes over with a bowel. “Thanks,” leaves your lips with a nod.

“We’re sorry for leaving you behind Y/N, but Sam and I agreed things were to dangerous neither of us wanted you to get hurt,” trying to reason Bucky leans his back against the counter beside you. Tugging once again at his too long hair that gets slightly tangled in the plates of his fingers.

“You actually agreed on something?” Catching his actions, your head shakes grabbing for the towel to dry soapy hands and help with his dilemma. “Instead you both come back looking like train wreck’s all beaten, broken and bruised. With a busted arm,” finished with untangling his fingers to point at his arm. Whirling around to assess Sam who’s trying not to put weight on his right leg, “Banged up hip and God know what else internally. Neither one of you are spring chickens for heaven’s sake.”

“Don’t know what your talking about Y/N? I’m not a day over twenty-five,” taking an aim to make you smile and ease the tension in your shoulders. Frown appearing when your countenance doesn’t change but deepens, “Talk to the resident Centurion who got his ass captured and tortured for over a week.”

Low growl leaves your lips pursed together in a grim line, “Do either of you think about the consequences of your actions? Of what’ll happen without either of you in this God forsaking world?” Tossing your hands up and turning back to dish washing, something to keep from chocking the life outta the two of them, or spilling your inner most thoughts. Afraid to loose either man the very thought making your heart clinch painfully in your chest, breathing picking up as tears gloss over your eyes. Plates clang loudly, forcefully slamming them into the drying rack making both men wince at your actions.

“Y/N,” coming up behind you large warm hands carefully rest on tense shoulders. Aware of your feelings for a certain cyborg the thought a little bitter to take but Sam resigns himself to the role of best friend. “We’re sorry really,” taking a breath and clearing his throat wanting to make amends and explain. “We thought, planned, things just…”

“Went to shit around us, it’s not like Sam or I wanted to get the crap beating out of us doll it just,” shrugging vibranium hand coming to rest on your shoulder beside Sam’s. “Got complicated.”

Taking a deep breath drawing in the scents of Sam’s citrus and cider wood cologne you couldn’t put your finger on naming, mixing with Bucky’s old world sandalwood base cologne of 4711. Eyes close for a moment blinking back the tears, and to gather thoughts, righting them in an order that makes sense. Trying to keep out the feelings currently jumbling up your brain. “I know,” body sags back against Sam’s strong chest while unconsciously leaning towards Bucky’s hand. “Neither of you will do that shit again. Do I make myself clear?”

“Not if things go dark side like this time, we’re not putting you in harms way,” feeling you stiffen Sam steps back, Bucky’s hand drops back to his side when you whirl on the man behind you. Stance ridge and firm, Sam crosses his arms adding his own glare and not backing down. “My decision is final on the matter and no amount of arguing will change that.”

Understanding Sam’s position, however the thought of staying behind, waiting to find out if… no you push those thoughts aside. “Mine, that’s who makes the choice not either of you,” heat of annoyance flaring to life as you look between the two men. “Knowing what I signed up for, choose to stick around and help put this broken blue marble we call home back together. I won’t sit out the next mission we clear on that?”

Rubbing the back of his neck, barely audible hiss leaves Bucky’s lips at having hair yanked out by the roots. Though his voice is steady when asking, “Why did you stick around? Thought once Walker handed over the shield, the Flag smashers agenda crashed and burned you’d skip out on the next train back to normal.” Not that he minded of course, in fact Bucky rather enjoyed your company, reminded him of those first months out of cryo getting to know each other. Plus his questions distracted you from getting an answer that won’t satisfy.

“I have my reasons,” giving a half hearted shrug you turn back to finishing up the dishes not really wanting to explain. Not fully sure yourself why you’ve stuck around though deep down you know it has to do with both men. “Reasons neither of you need to know.”

Sharing a look with Bucky, “Don’t pull that shit with us sweetheart you demand answers now we ask the same in return.”

Sure they still argued like an old married couple but a begrudging understanding has built between the pair, coming to an almost friendship neither would fully admit to. Both wanting to protect the small family friend’s circle patched together like grandma’s old quilt. Tattered, frayed and a few wholes but well loved and always cared for. Eyes landing back on you to watch the forward slump of your shoulders rounded inward along with your chin dropped to your chest.

“I have the two of you house broken,” idea forming to steer the conversation away. “Don’t need that headache on repeat and I wouldn’t leave the two of you bone heads alone to kill each other or drive poor Sarah crazy,” quicker than either can react you’ve scooped up hand fulls of soap bubbles to smash into both their faces. Deflecting the conversation away from having to answer and lightening the mood. Or so you hoped with the playfully murderous looks both men shoot you. Skirting Sam’s grabby hands heading to put the kitchen table between yourself, Captain America and the Winter Soldier. “Now boys that’s just all in good fun and your both hurt so I suggest you think about your actions before retaliating.”

Wiping the remains of soapy bubbles from his face, thick fingers making wet tracks over denim to dry hands. Sam edges a little closer intent on trying to snag your arm. That ghosts through his fingers, “For now but remember paybacks a bitch sweetheart.” Bright smile tugs his full lips, head shaking though he knows there’s so much more your hiding from both he and Bucky. One day he’ll crack that secret you hold so dear, for now Sam lets you cling tightly.

Watching him go you turn towards Bucky who’s smirk sets you back a moment. “I don’t think I like that look Barnes,” arms crossed mustering a half glare. “Sam’s right you really can see the smoke rising from your head.”

“Hahaha that jokes getting old,” light hearted quip falling from his lips, eyes raking your form as you near the sink. Catching you looking between finishing the dishes and making sure Bucky’s not going to retaliate. “I come in peace promise besides I’m too old for revenge I’ll leave it to you young whipper snappers,” throwing his voice to sound like an old man.

Laughter rings full and deep from your parted lips, soapy hands gripping the sink to keep from toppling over in mirth. His own chuckle exists on a grin, cerulean eyes taking in how carefree you look. Tension and worry melted away with his well played grandpa joke. Making Bucky wish he got to see you like this more often but then he remembered why he never searched. Why he left you alone and only within the last ten or so months managed to reconnect the missing dots in his life. Sure there’s still blood on his hands he tries to scrub clean with each mission, to make those amends and not just avenge. But truly help people in ways that didn’t require lead or blood.

Still wondering, so he gives voice to those thoughts, “Why didn’t you go back to your life doll?” Feeling he’s perpetuated a grave error in asking the question but a part of him wants. No needed the answer to know why you’d give up a happy life for one of danger and uncertainty with him and Sam.

Sobering, his question hitting you like a ton of cement bricks keeping you from turning to face him. Wincing when another hiss echos around inside your head from your right side. “Tell you what Buck you let me cut that hair and beard of yours I’ll answer your questions.”

“I get you don’t… wait… what?” Not sure he’d heard you right. Pain making a return to fog his brain for the moment as throbbing radiates across his broken clavicle to the dislocated shoulder, dancing along the fractured radius and painfully tingling his fingers. Soft curse exists his lips reminding himself to take Sam’s suggestions next time though he wouldn’t let the other man know. “Don’t happen to have any pain meds do ya doll?”

Eyes narrow, “Which parts did they break?” Holding up a hand to stop him from answering while you head towards your room. Grabbing up the small med kit Sharon gave you months back for times like these. Pausing to scoop up the hair scissors and trimer, along with a shaver and cream, both of which belonging to Sam. “Now you were saying?”

Placing everything on the table, unzipping the medium size unassuming black bag pulling out a small bottle to pop the top and wiggle out two pills. Handing those over to Bucky who just stares at them resting in his metal palm.

“Trying to kill me doll?” Teasing tone to the cadence of his words while popping them into his mouth and excepting the glass of water. Downing in one go and handing it back, “Never did like pills reminds me of Steve.”

Resting a gentle hand on his bad shoulder, “If I tried to kill ya Buck you’d see it coming,” snickering at the wide eyed look he gives you. Sobering with understanding filled eyes that stay locked with his, “I’m sorry it”s not my intentions to bring up the past.” Moving to put the glass down, you stay at the sink looking out over the backyard, orange and reds dancing over the rippling surface of the bayou. Sinking sun creating a cornucopia of color heralding the on coming twilight and the end of another day.

“You didn’t Y/N,” coming to stand next to you watching the golden ball of life giving light slowly sink into the horizon. On the tip of his tongue to speak about Steve, the abandonment he felt acutely with the absence of his best friend. Slowly filled by your present, that of Sam’s and his family. “I guess ‘Till the end of the line’ meant just till he could get back to who he really missed.” Anguish heard loudly through soft spoken words not meant for your ears but once uttered there’s no going back.

Out of your peripheral vision you study Bucky for a moment heart breaking for the man who’s lost so much to then fully face him. His own gaze staying straight ahead staring unseen out the window with tan lace curtains framing the coming twilight. Over head light casting shadows in the hallows and angles of his features, bringing out the bruises highlighting the cuts, making your heart ache for this man in ways you’ve tried to push aside. Ways you didn’t want it to feel in case of rejection but couldn’t help the tightening in your chest nor the want to embrace and hold Bucky close.

“Come on,” without thinking your hand slips into his vibranium palm tugging till he follows and only dropping to scoop up trimmer, combs and scissors before heading out the back door.

For a moment Bucky stood there thankful to Shuri for the ability to feel warmth and the weight of your hand in his vibranium limb. The very thoughts your simple gesture conjures damns his heart making it beat triple time. When your head pops back around the door sweet smile crossing those kissable lips. Bucky has to remind himself you’re off limits friends nothing more and to breath. Your beauty stealing the air from his lungs, making it hard to focus on anything except your present.

Catching the out of focus look in his cerulean eyes mind swirling with questions as to what he’s thinking about. “You gonna stand there taking root or get your silly ass out here,” motioning with a jerk of your head over your shoulder smile still firmly in place. Making sure he’s actually moving before existing to place a stool about middle of the back porch. Patting the hardwood barstool then reaching up to tug on the pull string as light floods the area casting a bright glow.

Transfixed for a moment in the doorway with the peek of skin allowed to his eyes. Your heather grey band shirt riding up teasingly tormenting him. Cursing internally, tongue trapped between indenting teeth to keep the sounds at bay. Till the hard slap of your palm against wooden seat draws his attentions and he robotically takes the seat. Stiffening with the fluttering of a barber’s cape hating to have things around his neck. Only to settle once you have it in place and buttoned reminding him your not there to hurt or torture him. Fingers brushing lightly over the exposed skin of his neck, creating goosebumps to dance across his flesh.

“Not too tight?” Gently running nimble fingers through his hair, blunt nails scratching the scalp. Finding it hard to keep from rubbing into your hands and fighting the urge to purr with each pass. You work the larger knots out carefully, pulling a comb from the back pocket of your jeans to run through his hair. “You with me Buck?”

“Hmm?” Simple noise issues from the back of his throat lost in the tingling sensations your fingers bloom across his body. Wanting to chase the feeling bringing peace to his mind much like the soft cadence your voice takes on with the intimacy surrounding the two of you. Sweet chuckle music to his ears and snaps him back to now, noticing you’ve paused your hands waiting for a response, “Sorry no I’m good.”

“Enjoying yourself Barnes?” Teasingly quipped while adjusting the cape to cover his back. Making sure all his hair lays over the edges and carefully combing out the smaller knots your fingers missed. Secretly enjoying the soft chestnut strands as they curl around your fingers. Massaging his scalp hoping to relax his tense posture when a particularly stubborn knot has you accidentally giving a not so gentle tug. Garnering a low moan from the man in front of you. “Sorry Buck,” working the knot out with a little more care taking the sound as one of pain.

Throat clearing, thankful his crotch is currently covered to not give away the secret he’s concealing. Praying to all the heavens you’ve taken the moan as one of pain instead of pleasure that’s surfing through his veins with a simple hair pull. “Yes, and it’s fine,” words pushed passed lips held taunt to keep from letting any sound out. Searching his mind for a topic to settle on, willing his body to stop reacting to the warmth of yours.

Each brush of fingers sends heat flaring to life along his nerves. Knowing the pain killers don’t worked through his system that quickly. Yet, the throbbing ache once present has diluted to a low annoying thump with the heat of your hands on his cotton covered shoulder. Wanting to lean back into your body but holds himself ridge from doing something stupid like enjoying the moment. Therefore clears his throat, “You’ve got me at your mercy doll ready to answer my questions?”

“Should I worry what you’ll ask?” Moving from behind him to head back into the kitchen. Grabbing the empty spray bottle to fill with warm water and head back out.

Eyes close with the first spritz of water, chin dropping to chest as you work to wet his hair. “Why?”

“Why what?” Knowing what he’s asking, your distracted for a moment putting the spray bottle’s trigger through a belt loop incase its needed once your satisfied with the wetness of his hair. “I’ll need more specifics than just why. Why’s the sky blue? Why’s it so damn hot? So many why questions you gotta stop wasting your breath Buck.”

“Cheeky doll very cheeky you know damn well what I mean,” keeping his head still to prevent you from severing an ear.

Smirking, setting to work on trimming up the top back portion of his head, trying to keep from childishly making faces. “Sure don’t Sarge.”

Groan slipping passed before he’s able to trap and swallow the sound at the off handed use of his military rank. Wondering which deity had it out for his ass today. Cursing the fact he’s let you so close to breath in the flowery scent of your body. Gentle use of those skilled fingers through his hair not making things any better for the growing problem tenting his jeans. Returning to himself when you move to his left shortening the hair over his ear. “Why’d you stay with us? I thought,” remembering those painful words back in Madripoor. “I thought you had a happy life to go back to.”

“Ear hustling Barnes?” Switching sides and glancing down with a raised brow you know he doesn’t see.

Looking up to try and catch your eye your focus on cutting his hair makes the attempt impossible. So he settles on, “Don’t know what you mean doll. Just asking a question,” trying to hold the shiver at bay when your fingers brush over the shell of his ear.

“Since your asking it means you didn’t hear everything Sam and I talked about,” thankful that’s the case or things would get a whole lot complicated. “I lied.”

Head whipping to the side so quickly you fear he’s damaged his neck with the wince taking over his handsome features. “Lied why?”

“Reasons,” ‘Ones I won’t tell you James,’ speaking the last words in your mind, careful probing fingers check for anything popped out. Garnering a hiss of pain when you’ve found the break in his clavicle. “What did you break besides the hamster running your wheel brain?”

Bitting off the curse as pain flared over his right side. Gritting out, “Clavicle, dislocated shoulder, fractured radius, you can see the cuts and bruises so take it a little easy on this old man.”

“How… Why did you get captured?” Worry fights fear both dance with anger marching through your veins as a Thanksgiving Day parade band would down the streets of New York City. The very thought of both your men hurt and so far away from home torn a hole in your heart. Thoughts you try to push away and focus on the job of cutting Bucky’s hair.

Finishing up what you could on the back of his head, Bucky feels you come around to the front. Knees spread to accommodate your body, closing his eyes to keep from staring at your breasts. Licking suddenly dry lips with having you extra close, he tries to gather an answer to your question. “We needed an in so I made a decision.”

“One I’m sure Sam disagreed on,” carding your fingers through the top, snipping pieces checking length. Jealous over how soft his hair feels between your digits. Woodsy pine scent reaching your nose that twitches in pleasure at the fragrance matching what you always thought he’d smell like.

“Yeah well we ran out of time doll. Couldn’t let what remains of LAF get away,” eyes quickly open only to slam shut again with having you still too near for his own good.

Every brush of your fingers, thighs brushing against his with every move, your flowery scent wrapping around his heart to squeeze tight. Breath punched from his lungs when your knee makes slight contact with his erection. Shooting pleasurable fireworks off behind his closed lids. Wishing for your hands on his body, wondering what they’d feel like over bare skin. If you’d shy away from the scars littering his flesh or… he wouldn’t, didn’t need to think about the alternative.

Unsure why he gasped you move from between his legs and look upon his face confused as to his ridge posture eyes held tightly closed. Insecurities rushing through your mind, setting up shop to remind you no man let alone someone as handsome as Bucky would ever want to look at you. Shoving back those thoughts to ask, “You okay Bucky?”

“Fucking fabulous doll,” bitting out the words while trying to reign in the need to grab hold of your hips, bringing you back against him. Wanting to find out if you’d fit as good or better than what he’s imagined during those dream filled nights he doesn’t talk about with anyone. “Finished?” Praying you’ll say yes, the temptation becoming almost unbearable.

Unconvinced by his words but pushes that aside and stepping farther back to round him, grabbing up the trimmer on the way with a numbered comb. “Almost but then I still have your beard to do.”

“Fuck,” low gravely voice intones the single word hoping you’ve not heard and cursing the heaven for this test of his will and desires. In another life Bucky wouldn’t have hesitated to ask you out, wine and dine with dancing till midnight. Taking you home with a simple kiss of promise with more to come. But he’s different now and you don’t deserve to have a broken man on your hands.

Swallowing harshly to cover your growing need to escape and bury yourself in another program or book to distract from those awful thoughts running around in your mind. Replaying all the brush offs and look aways as rejection shattering your heart. Pushing you to finish his new hair cut that much quicker. “Done, now how short you want your beard?”

“Gone,” knowing exactly what he’s saying and damning himself to the torture of a different kind.

Coming back in front of him, you slip between his parted knees so easily a thought you try to push away while switching the trimmer combs and flicking the on button. Carefully cupping his left cheek while shortening the right for a closer shave once your done. “Surely you didn’t just let them capture you.” Returning to a safer subject other than how good his bearded jaw felt in your warm palm. Wondering how it’d feel in other places.

“Offered myself up for a little bloody torture and a few broken bones. I’m here to tell the tale instead of those guys Y/N. They're off the streets and we have the information needed to finish taking down LAF.” Teeth gritting to keep from rubbing his jaw into your palm, from turning to kiss the center and devour you with his mouth.

Pausing a moment, “But you could’ve gotten killed James.” Sorrow coloring the cadence of your tone, eyes filled with fear at what could’ve happened. “You should’ve called me, I could’ve helped.”

Heart stopping, never had you spoken his first name, always Bucky or Buck, Barnes when your angry but never James. Opening his darken cerulean orbs breath trapped somewhere between lungs and mouth at the sorrow written deep in those eyes he never could not stare into. Heart hammering back to life with the subtle brushing of your fingers over his cheek, “Would it have matter?”

Confusion tips your head to the side, “What you dying or me helping?”

“Dying,” single word dropped like a bomb destroying everything in the path.

“James,” softly spoken with so much emotion held within the countenance of your features. Watching the ghosts float through those beautiful cerulean eyes, memories of a time he couldn’t control, of deeds done to people who didn’t deserve the pain and death he dealt out as the Fist of Hydra. Tears gloss over your eyes once again trying to blink them away to keep them from clogging your emotions filled throat. “It matter’s Barnes, matters to a lot of people you’re just too stubborn to realize that.” Shaking your head to clear the fog and get back to work.

Speechless Bucky just sits there letting you finish up trimmer the hair away as if trying to erase the past months, the torture he let happen with no regard to his personal well being. During this time your words chase around his mind, combined with Sam’s out right demand of him to never put himself in harms way like that again. Adding more questions added than any true answers. Delicate fingers brush over trimmed facial hair bringing him back to the present right as you move to take the barber’s cape from around his neck. Missing the warmth of your touch, heat radiating from your body, your scent filling his nose and making him drunk on you.

Folding the cape to drape over your arm, “I’ll shave you as well come back inside.” Voice slightly rough with unshed tears avoiding looking directly at Bucky and missing the longing written in the ocean pools. Mistaking his lack of response for rejection of your words and feelings. You enter the house placing the small hand load down and moving a chair over towards the sink. Returning to grab up the shaving cream and razor, pulling a fresh wash cloth from the draw by the sink too wet it hot.

“You don’t have to,” entering and closing the back door with the heel of his boot. Bucky leans against the counter watching you with a closed expression. Pain dull but still worming its way through his veins along with so many thoughts.

Glancing his way, “I know,” motioning with a wave of your hand, “but if I don’t that beard’ll come back in short order and we’ll have to do this all over again.” Going for playful to ease the tension built from the lingering words of out on the porch, “Bring your ass over here Buck.”

Your change in mood has a confused frown pulling his mouth down but complies with the order. Taking up the seat with spread legs and turned up face watching you wring out the wash cloth. Using your elbow and tipping his head back to gently place the hot cloth around what’s left of his beard to soften the hair and wake up the pores. Catching the small muffled groan, “To hot?”

“No, perfect,” faintly hearing the two simple words you grab up the shaving cream to put a generous amount in your palm before pulling the quickly cooling cloth from his face. Tossing it towards the sink and applying a layer of cream to his skin. Left overs rinsed from your hands quickly before drying and grasping the razor with steady hands. “Just a little off the top if you please,” boyish smirk slips over his lips tipping cream covered cheeks up while trying to be funny.

Eyes rolling, “To late for that one top’s already taken care of.” Using the pad of your thumb to push the skin of his cheek taunt. Carefully dragging the razor over his flesh intending to keep your gaze directed towards working the blade over his check. However, you’re unable to do so while cleaning the razor as your eyes dart up catching the fact Bucky’s gaze firmly rests on your face. Heat blooming across your body, eyes drop back to his cheek intent on getting finished quickly to avoid any farther embarrassment.

Meanwhile Bucky maps every feature of your face, the slant of your nose, set of your eyes, cupids bow of your top lip. Visions of drawing the plump flesh in for a bite and pull before letting go with a wet pop, filter through his mind. Finding himself in a rather precarious predicament, thighs spread to accommodate your body, his palms itch to grasp and tug you into his lap. Bitting back a moan each touch brings, the gentleness tearing a new hole in armored covered heart. Wanting to keep you out but finding it harder to do every time you show the kindness his life lacked for decades.

Minds eye drawing the curves of your cheeks, lips twitching to caress, fingers tapping trapped in plaster and cloth against his body. Wanting to brush his knuckles over your throat to gently grasp the back of your neck and bring your lips against his for a slow sweet drink of the tempting cavern of your warm mouth. Only snapping back to reality with the soft brush of your fingers along his jawline.

Searching for any hairs left behind, soothingly palming his cheeks with cool hands desperate to taste his skin. Drag your lips over the same spots the razor just graced. Teasing the tip of your tongue along the hard edge of his jaw to place a kiss just below his ear. Tempted to even suck a mark for everyone to see. You swallow harshly removing your hands from his cheeks to rinse and warm up the cloth to clean off any residual shaving cream from his face.

“Finished,” clearing your emotions clogged throat, stepping towards the sink, your profile the only side Bucky sees as you work to clean up the mess.

Feeling rather than hearing him stand heat radiating of his body just a few inches shy of brushing against yours. “Thank you doll,” impulsively leaning forward to brush his lips over your cheek. Lingering longer than he should but unable too stop himself from pressing soft slight chapped lips to the corner of your mouth. “Next time I need shavin’ I know who to come too,” breathing the words before pulling away, taking his leaving quickly to keep from doing something even stupider. Like wrap you up into his arms and actually kissing those pillow soft lips. Backdoor swinging closed a little harder than he meant in his bid to get away from your warmth and tempting body.

Frozen in place, skin tingling from just that slight press while your heart beats almost out of your chest. Pounding against your rib cage so hard fear it’ll crack a rib any second now. White knuckles grip the sinks edge, heat flaring across your body to pool low and throb through your lady parts. Thighs unconsciously rub together needing friction to alleviate the ache growing between your legs.

“Did you cut him or take a hunk of hair out and now he looks like Frankenstein monster?” Teasing tone to his quip, Sam enters the kitchen still staring at the back door. Having watched the exchange from the darkened hallway. Reverting his eyes to your back, taking in the ridge posture of your spine with a slight very subtle shake. “Y/N what’s wrong?” Swiftly coming up behind you, hands gripping your shoulders to turn you around. “Did Bucky say or do something wrong?” Worry creasing his brow the want to hold you close growing with each second your not in his arms.

Looking up into the kind russet eyes flashing with concern and worry, “No,” head shaking, “no he didn’t Sam just…” unable to stop yourself from burying your body against Sam’s firm chest. Trying to figure out how to explain what’s running around in your head. The indecision, thoughts you know shouldn’t roll through your mind doing just that as your arms wind around his trim waist.

“Just what sweetheart?” Wanting to help smooth things over between his two best friends even if it meant swallowing his own feelings.

Keeping your eyes closed, breathing in his cedar wood and citrus scent, burying your nose against his collarbone. Always able to calm the raging storm of emotions boiling through your veins. Confusion setting in with those same tingles you feel when Bucky touches you now dances across your body at the warmth of Sam’s arms cradling you close. Reminding you of earlier when his chest pressed to your back strong hands gently placed on your shoulders. The shiver you suppressed at the touch of both men. At the memory your eyes pop open and you quickly push away from Sam as if he’s burnt you. Needing to escape and figure out what’s going on.

“Nothing, it doesn’t matter, I’m sorry,” feet quickly taking you from the kitchen into the safe arms of your bedroom.

Missing the confused look marring Sam’s face that turns into hurt at the way you’ve shoved him aside. Body sagging against the counter, hand rubbing at the back of his neck searching for what’s changed in such a short period of time.

“Men, blind and just plain foolish,” landing a hard hit to his shoulder, which he rubs to alleviate the pain. Sarah comes up beside her older brother with a raised brow. “Still don’t get it? Searching for exactly why she reacted so strongly? Think Samuel use that big brain you have and actually put it to good use.”

Frown creasing between his eyes and drawing his lips down, “Left behind sucks Sarah that’s all it amounts to. But we… I couldn’t have her along, wouldn’t risk her life like that.”

“Has nothing to do with leaving her home Sam,” giving him a meaningful look that still bewilders him. “Why didn’t you want her along but you took Bucky with you?”

“He’s a super soldier Sar he can take the hits not that I want him hurt either. Shit when he let himself get captured,” moving towards the abandoned chair to plop down heavily. “He scared the living shit outta me, I thought…” hard to swallow the memories of watching those men pulling an unconscious Bucky into a van. Driving off before he could plant a tracker and barely able to get up with bruised ribs making breathing painful. Sam runs a hand over the short hair unsure when things got so complicated between the three of them.

Pulling up a chair in front of Sam, “You’d lost him?” Seeing the nod Sarah’s features softened knowing from the tell’s she picked up watching the three of them for so long. “You love them?”

“What?” Head whipping up so quickly making Sam wince. “Of course I do but not like that I mean their family, you know I’ll do anything to protect my family.”

Hand resting on his shoulder, “You keep telling yourself that big bro maybe one day you’ll actually believe it and able to push those feelings away good enough to keep them at arms length.” Looking up at her, “Just a word of advice,” seeing him nod, “don’t push those emotions away, you deserve that love they both would readily give you.”

*****************************

Softly closing the door behind you heading towards the ensuite bathroom for a nice cold shower, preforming your nightly routine, and shutting off every light except the one beside your bed. Falling into the soft mattress with your current book keeping you company for the rest of the night. Eyes start to droop, words blur and you read the same sentence half a dozen times. Book falling against your chest as a yawn takes over your features.

Body stretching out against cool sheets jumping when a soft knock echos around your room, eyes darting towards the clock to see its just a little passed mid night. Slowly getting out of bed, pulling the extra long dark blue with little pink flowers dotting the sleep shirt down to cover your ass and thighs. Thinking its Sarah checking on you, eyes shocked wide with the small crack you open the door to spy Bucky standing there fidgeting.

“Everything all right Buck?” Opening the door wider to lean against the casing arms crossed just under your breasts.

Swallowing, glancing from your eyes to lips repeatedly. Trying to form the words he wants to speak when the decision makes itself clear and Bucky surges forward. Gently wrapping vibranium fingers around the back of your neck and bragging you against his strong chest. Slanting his lips against yours, nipping your bottom lip to make you gasp and slipping his eager tongue passed into the warm depths of your mouth. Leading the kiss and praying he’s not wrong.

Rewarded by your arms winding around his neck careful of his injures. Fingers tugging at the now shorten strands thanks to your expect hands. Garnering a low moan from the depths of his chest, one that rambles with a pleased hum as you return the kiss. Tangling your tongues together making nothing soft nor gentle about this melding of mouths. Only breaking apart for both of you to gasp for air.

“No, nothing’s all right doll. I can’t stop thinking about you,” resting your foreheads together sharing common air. Fingers at the base of your skull massaging the tension with surprisingly easy pressure. “I’d done fighting, done pushing you away, I need you Y/N.”

“James?” Lips tingling from a kiss you’ve only dreamt about as confusion marring your tone, eyes blinking a few times to make sure you’ve pushed the sleepy haze from your mind.

Soft groan issues at hearing you whisper just first name, hand slipping down to wrap around your waist and pull your taut to his body. “If…” trying to push the next words past his lips, “if you don’t want…”

“Us, we need to know now sweetheart. We won’t push you into anything you don’t want,” Sam’s voice full of desire and longing cuts across Bucky’s for a moment.

Making you look up from eyes locked with Bucky to stare at Sam trying to process his words, the look in those beautiful russet eyes you can’t pull yours away from. Till Bucky presses a kiss to just below your ear, “We know it’s a lot to take in doll and you can say no…”

“I,” gulping like a fish out of water, heat thumping through your veins at the unspoken promise both sets of eyes show. “I don’t know what to say.”

Stepping forward to push you back a step so Sam can fully enter your bedroom and close the door. He comes behind you sandwiching your body between two walls of muscle and masculine warmth. Pressing a kiss to the opposite cheek, lips brushing over the shell of your ear, “There’s no going back sweetheart you’re ours if you say yes. But if the answer is no I’m not going to lie things will change. Awkward as hell yes especially at first but I,” Bucky clears his throat to which Sam nods, “we would work through that with you. Loosing your friendship can’t happen no matter what.”

Removing yourself from between their warm bodies to collapse at the end of the bed, head in your hands. Mind so confused, a jumbled mix of desire and lust touched with a heavy dose of love that scares the living shit outta you. Feeling the bed dip on either side, removing your hands to glance at both men. Seeing the reassurance in those cerulean and russet orbs you swallow to wet your parched throat. Gaining strength to finally speak, “I don’t want to loose either of you,” looking between both men. Taking each hand within your own, “But this last mission taught me I don’t want to deny my feelings any longer.”

“What feelings doll?” Giving your hand an encouraging squeeze.

Looking into Bucky’s cerulean eyes, “I’m in love with both of you.” Switching to Sam’s russet orbs seeing the blatant want shining only boosts your confidence to lean over. Cupping his jaw and bringing your lips against his. Different from the kiss you shared with Bucky. Who’s bottom lip begs for a nibbling, Sam’s fuller lips press against your own in tender caresses.

Gentler too, a soft slant of his mouth against yours, pressing twice at different angles before tracing over your bottom lip. Gaining entrance on a sigh of need to check in with your tongue before tangling together. Heated palm cupping your cheek, thumb brushing over the apple twice while he artfully pillages your mouth. Drawing out a low moan squeak following when a set of lips slide over the side of your neck nibbling a short path to suck a mark behind your ear. Making you weak and boneless against Sam, who releases your cheek and hand to grip your hips, having you straddle his thighs.

Kiss breaking for air, “I’m to heavy Sam, your hip.”

“You’re prefect baby girl no arguing understand?” Cupping your ass in both hands to roll your hips against the hard bulge of his erection. Teeth gritting at how good you feel in his arms, the damp heat of your core only serving to make him grow harder with each brush against your cloth covered pussy. Sam reclaims your mouth, this kiss much different. Desperate and demanding taking no prisoners this time as he immediately slips his tongue back into your mouth. Pulling a groan from deep within your chest, arms going around his neck to help move your body against his. The delicious friction sending jolts of pleasure radiating out over your body, clit throbbing with a need you’ve never felt before.

Hissing at the cool sensations of Bucky’s vibranium fingers drawing circles across your back. Pushing your sleep shirt off your body arms raising, breaking the kiss to accomplish the task. Looking over your shoulder at the bare chested Barnes, mouth salivating at the sight eager to touch and kiss every inch. Brought back to Sam with the heat of his mouth connecting to your pulse, adding his own mark to your body while his callused fingers dances across your back.

Cursing his rotten luck for not having use of one hand, Bucky steps forward lowering to his knees carefully. Brushing his lips along your spine while cool alloyed fingers sweep around your body between you and Sam to trace a line between your breasts. Head dropping back to Bucky’s shoulder and baring your breasts to Sam’s hungry glaze and Bucky’s questing fingers.

“So beautiful,” words whispered reverently from Sam’s lips against the damp column of your throat. Mouth tasting each inch of your skin he can reach. Till moist heat circles your nipple, wet tip of his tongue coming out to flick the tightly budded peak before sucking harshly. In contrast to the cool patterns Bucky draws, taking the time to tug before pinching just hard enough that your back arches into Sam’s mouth.

Pushing into Bucky at your back a whimper parting your gasping lips. Needing more of both men surrounding you, slick coating your trembling thighs as you clinch around nothing. Dragging a whine of desperation from you soul,“Please,” single word escaping your mouth.

“What doll? What do you want?” Drawing his lips up to your ear, nipping the lobe bringing it between his teeth giving a sharp bite at the same time Sam flicks his tongue over your nipple.

Letting go with a wet pop, smiling at the whine exiting your heaving chest, “I think out girl needs more Buck. Any thoughts on how to please her?” Brow wiggling over your shoulder at Bucky who just smirks.

Fingers sliding down then under the band of your panties to find you soaked and pulsing. Cool metal meeting heated flesh makes you jolt in Sam’s arms. Grinding down into those wonderful fingers and against the thick ridge of Sam’s cock.

“Don’t stop please,” gasping head lolling back, your eyes close as sensations crash through your veins. Tight coil starting to form with just the brush of his fingers.

Maneuvering closer to slip two fingers into your clinching channel. Deep groan vibrating through his chest and into your back, “Fuck Sam she’s tight and so wet for us. I bet she tastes just as good as she feels.” Rocking your hips, fucking his fingers desperate for that high traveling up from the bottom of your spine. Tickling your tummy with jolts of pleasure only to have it diminish when Bucky pulls his fingers out.

Frustrated whine leaving your lips only to choke on air when Bucky offers one of the fingers perviously buried inside your cunt to Sam. Who doesn’t hesitate to wrap his lips around the single digit, groaning at the very taste of your essence. Circling the tip with his tongue, making sure to clear every drop off while keeping eye contact with Bucky. Mimicking with his mouth how he’d suck Bucky’s cock, garnering a growl from deep within his chest. Letting go with a smirk, “Even better Buck and I bet from the source it’s simply heaven.”

“Only way to find out,” answering grin firmly in place he raises from the floor. Helping you stand on shaky legs turning you to face him. Capturing your lips in an open mouth kiss, flicking his tongue against yours, teasing your bottom lip and drawing out another frustrated groan making him chuckle. “Don’t worry doll we promise you won’t go unsatisfied we’re going to take care of your every need.”

“Don’t tease her Buck it’s not fair,” glint of mischief sparking through those russet eyes that only Bucky catches since your still face him. Sam comes up behind to pressing his bare chest against your back, hands resting on your hips, tugging and letting the band of your panties snap back against your skin. “You can still say no.”

Wiggling back against Sam then pressing forward to feel the hard line of Bucky’s erection against your lower tummy. Knowing why he’s asking, seeing the same sentiment mirrored in Bucky’s eyes that warms your heart filling with love for both men. “Now who’s teasing Samuel,” reaching behind you to slide your palm over his ridged cock giving a squeeze at the same time you palm Bucky. “I’m sure my loves,” enjoying the answering growls from both men. Before another word leaves your lips Sam tugs down your panties letting them pool at your feet as Bucky moves you towards the bed.

Swiping the book from the mattress to lay on the nightstand, smile on his lips at finding the well loved copy of The Fellowship of the Ring. Bringing you to sit then lay back against the cool sheets, trailing his vibranium fingers from your cheek down between your breasts. Circling each nipple, giving the right a light pinch that has your back arching and a gasp existing your paired lips. Distracted till Sam gently grips your left ankle, spreading you open to slide between your legs. Pressing kisses alone the inside of your leg towards your thigh. Soft bread tickling your skin making giggles erupt from your mouth.

“I think she likes that Sam,” the comment spoken against your ear. Placing a kiss to your cheek, “Have to remember to let my own beard grow back out.”

Whimpering softly at the thought one hand fisting the sheets as Sam draws his tongue over the crease between thigh and groin. Purposefully avoiding the spot you want him most, “Payback is a bitch boys,” words growled out right as Bucky envelopes your left nipple into the heat of his mouth.

“Teasing half the fun sweetheart have patience,” looking up from between your legs. Stiffen tongue drawing up from your entrance to clit, circling the little throbbing nub and making your back arch, gasping for air.

“Fuck,” single word breathed from deep within your body. Sweat starting to bead across your forehead. Head tossed back into the pillow free hand carding through Bucky’s chestnut hair tugging the strands harshly till he lets your breast go with a wet pop. You guide his mouth up to yours, demandingly taking the kiss over, slipping your tongue into his mouth this time. Swallowing your moans of delight with each thrust of his tongue. Matching the pace Sam sets against your dripping cunt.

Rutting into the mattress to find the prefect friction hoping to ease for a moment the throbbing of his cock. “Stop stealing all those pretty noises Barnes I wanna hear our girl,” reaching up to smack the other mans thigh hard enough to break the two of you apart.

“Sorry not sorry,” giving him a smirk while licking his lips from the heated kiss.

Filing away the fact Bucky knows what means only to have any thought fly from your mind as two thick fingers enter your quivering channel. Slowly thrusting, his mouth suctioned onto your clit, drawing little short patterns making your thighs shake around his head. Slacking off to lazily place kisses over those thighs but still pumping his fingers, crooking them into a come hither motion to brush over that special spongy spot.

Blooming stars behind your tightly closed eyes, “Watch him doll, see how much you loves devouring that pretty cunt.” Voice rough with arousal against your ear, Bucky’s metal fingers dancing over your chest only adding to your heighten state of desire.

At his command you eyes open to lock with Sam’s passion blown blacken eyes. Moaning at the picture he presents you with, panting breath as you keep drawing closer to your orgasm. Only to have Sam back off creating frustrating tension in your body. Gritting out, “I’m going to die if you don’t let me cum.”

Smirk showing in those beloved eyes as he doubles down on your clit. Lips puffy but forming a perfect O too suction and flick his tongue over the engorged nerve bundle. Fingers, third added to stretch you open and picking the pace up as your mouth drops wide in a scream Bucky devours with a deep kiss. To keep from waking the kids or Sarah, his own body on fire with a need to have you both.

Tingles quickly dancing through your veins, breath panting as you break from Bucky’s mouth, one hand gripping the sheets below the other still buried in his hair. Body on fire as you near that perfect orgasm Sam’s intent on giving you.

Denial’s not just a river in Egypt as your eyes pop open at the knock on your door. Reminiscent of what your sluggish brain comes to understand as just a very vivid dream. One that makes your heart drop with the book that’d lay on your chest now face down on the carpeted floor. You stand checking the time of mid night before heading to the door and finding Sarah on the other side with ice cream in hand.

“Figured you might need some cheering up,” letting her in and taking the bowl of your favorite ice cream.

Vivid dream lingering though you don’t share feeling a TMI moment she doesn’t and most likely wouldn’t want to know about her big brother. You steer the topics away from the non existent love life to plans for tomorrow and the coming weekend.

#Buckybingo #New Hair cut square #Sam Wilson x Female Reader #Bucky Barnes x Female Reader #Sam Wilson x Fem!Reader #Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader #Bucky Barnes x F!Reader #Sam Wilson x F!Reader #TFATWS fiction

47 notes · View notes

ffakc · 3 years

Text

Golden Globes - a Jeffrey Dean Morgan fanfiction

Written for my girl @negans-attagirl also tagging: @iluvneganandjamie and @jdmbbycakes

Jeff laced my fingers with his as we strolled onto the red carpet. This was the first time we were going to be seen together as a couple. We had met on the set of his film Solace and the rest was history.

“Jeffrey!”

“Jeff! Over here!”

“Who’s the pretty girl?”

“You look beautiful! Who are you wearing?”

The paparazzi are yelling as we glance in all directions, trying to give them the perfect shot. I shrug and giggle as Jeff wraps his arm around my waist. I didn’t have a clue who designed my dress for the evening. I place my hand on his chest and pose.

“Is that your girlfriend, Jeffrey?”

“Yeah!” he calls out.

“What’s her name?”

Jeff rolls his eyes, “I don’t owe you shit!” He was never too fond of photographers getting up in his grill. He flashes a fake smile as we move on down the line.

“And here we have Jeffrey Dean Morgan AKA Negan on The Walking Dead! How are you doing tonight? Looking sharp, my friend!” the reporter says.

“Hey, thanks! I’m alright! It’s date night with my gal here!” Jeff replies with a chuckle.

“Nothing says hot date like an awards show!” the reporter teases. “Ah, you’re Ylana (last name)! You two starred in a movie recently together, correct?” I nod and link my arm with Jeff’s. “I guess that intense sex scene really hit things off!”

“There’s nothing sexy about sex scenes, to be honest. Cameras are quite literally up your ass,” I say and Jeff smiles.

“Isn’t she just gorgeous?” my boyfriend gushes.

“Ravishing, darling! Can you tell us anything about the new season? It sounds like Negan is finally turning a corner!”

“I guess you’ll have to tune in and find out!”

“I had a feeling you might say that! It’s been good talking to you, man. Have a great night!”

“Thanks, you too!” Jeff leads me down the walkway. Bright white lights shine down like we just walked through the Pearly Gates. Cameras were on all sides, filming our outfits.

“Let’s give them a show, baby girl,” Jeff growls in my ear. Before I can respond, he places a veiny hand on my throat and kisses me deeply. Cameras flash wildly as I close my eyes and lean into the kiss, tuning out our audience of photographers and fans in the bleachers. I feel my older man’s dick harden in his incredibly fitted pants. Jeff pulls away and waves at the crowd as we head inside the lavish hotel.

“I’d be lying if I was saying that didn’t make me a little excited,” Jeff teases. I kiss his cheek with a smile.

“Kind of exhilarating with everyone watching!” I giggle.

***

Jeff sips his champagne and traces his fingers over my thigh. He had already done his award presentation with the incredibly gorgeous Priyanka Chopra and finally was able to relax. He places his glasses in the breast pocket of his suit. He looked so stunningly handsome in his sleek all black number. I rest my head on his shoulder as his hand tugs at my dress. He kisses my forehead sweetly.

“Now, I don’t know if it’s the bubbly talking,” Jeff’s gravelly voice is barely audible as he whispers in my ear, “But god damn, I want you so bad right now.” He licks his lips as he glares at my cleavage poking out of my sweetheart neckline.

“Jeffrey,” I murmur as his slender fingers attempt to penetrate the fabric of my dress. I feel warmth begin to gather between my thighs as he maintains a straight face, smiling at fellow actors. What a tease.

“I’m trying to think of a place we can sneak off to,” he mutters between gritted teeth, “I’ve never been here before”. I muster up what little courage I have.

“Excuse me,” I pipe up to the server refilling everyone’s glasses. He glances at me, “Where can I get some fresh air? I’m feeling a little dizzy.”

“Oh, absolutely! If you go out those back doors, there’s a little outdoor seating area. Anything else I can help you with?” he says with a warm smile.

“I think I’m okay,” I reply.

“I hope you feel better, dear!” I stand up and begin speed walking and shoot a glance at Jeff as he looks around the table.

“I better make sure she’s okay,” he follows after me. Jeff makes his way to the patio where I’m waiting not so patiently.

“Oh, Daddy,” I whimper, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him deeply, “Take me right here, right now.”

“I would want nothing more,” Jeff breathes into my neck, “I’m so damn hard, baby girl.” He checks out our surroundings to ensure there aren’t any straggler photographers lurking about. “You look so beautiful in your dress tonight, sweet thing.” I tangle my hands in Jeff’s soft, graying locks as his tongue explores my mouth. Jeff’s large hands cup my breasts. He pulls down the neckline on my gown. It’s surprisingly quiet out on the patio, all I hear are Jeff’s soft lips suckling gently on my hardened nipples. He unbuttons his pants and slides them down carefully, unveiling his pulsing cock. I slide up my dress and lean against the wall as Jeff grabs my thigh and presses against me. I scratch his gray beard as he looks deep into my eyes. He smiles lovingly and kisses me. His cock rubs my entrance, begging to be let in.

“I love you so much, Jeffrey. Fuck me, please fuck me. I can’t take it anymore,” I whimper. He sinks into me with a sinful hiss. His short nails dig into my thigh as he thrusts rhythmically.

“I love you too, sweetheart. Oh god, you feel too damn good, I ain’t gonna last long,” Jeff gasps. His hips jerk as he adjusts me to reach maximum depth. The fullness makes me shudder with delight.

“This is so crazy, baby,” I moan. “We’re going to get caught.”

“And? Let them see. Let them take pictures,” Jeff groans against my neck. “‘Jeffrey Dean Morgan caught having sex in bushes at awards show!’” he breathlessly chuckles.

“To be fair, we’re on a patio, not in the bush- Oh Jeffrey!” I gasp.

“I’m so close already, baby girl,” Jeff grunts. I grasp his slivering hair and slip my tongue between his perfect pink lips. Oh fuck, baby, I’m going to absolutely drain my balls into you.”

“Please, Daddy, fill me up.”

“That’s my good girl,” he purrs. “Daddy’s going to make this little pussy so full. I’m going to cum, doll. I’m going to breed you so good. Mmm, fuck!” My muscles squeeze around him as his cock throbs and his load drips down my leg. We both attempt to catch our breath as Jeff gently pulls out and holds onto me. He sets my quivering legs back on flat ground.

“That... Jeffrey... oh my god,” words are failing me. He takes the pocket square out of his suit pocket and cleans himself off.

“Don’t laugh. It’s no towel, but it’ll do the job,” Jeff giggles to himself. He looks around like a mischievous little kid and tosses the silk cloth in the bushes. “We’ll leave the Beverly Hilton a little souvenir.”

“I think we should have public sex more often,” I run my fingers through his hair.

“I absolutely agree, my gal,” Jeff kisses me.

#denny duquette #fanfic #fanfiction #greys anatomy #jeffrey dean morgan #negan #the walking dead #older man younger woman #john winchester #supernatural

57 notes · View notes

vinylhazza · 4 years

Note

can u pls write something with dirty talk and facefucking for grayson 🥺🥺

*screaming DEVILISH by chase atlantic*

“holy shit she worshiping my dick like it’s the holy father”

i’m not saying grayson loves to hear you choking on his dick but he for sure loves to hear you choking on his dick.

most of the time, gray can handle your attitude and snarky remarks. you being a brat was something he’s used to by now. but he will admit that some days - he would like nothing more than to shut that pretty little mouth up in any way he can. sexual or not. and today must have been one of those days.

you wouldn’t stop. it was a constant picking, picking, picking at his nerves. at first he thought that maybe he did something to upset you, and tried to understand that you get a bit petty when you’re upset. but after a while, he realized that...you were fucking being mean on purpose. because you know what comes after if you get him too upset. and you loved it. you craved for him to grab you by your neck and pull you into him, lips hovering over yours, mumbling a little “seems to me you’re having a little attitude problem today.”

and you would grin. an evil little grin that lets him know that yes: this is exactly what you want. to be punished. have you put in your place in the crudest way - that way being his dick slamming down your throat.

“i’m not doing anything,” you stutter, clenching at the feeling of his large hand wrapped lightly around your thought. just the right pressure to constrict your air but have you drooling.

“don’t act so clueless. like you haven’t been a cunt to me all fucking day on purpose,” he snaps, staring at you hard in the eyes, irises blown out and black. like a demon. like he hates you. like he wants to ruin you. he doesn’t want you to ever get it twisted and think you can disrespect him and get away with it.

“w-well i-“ you try and backtrack, not knowing if getting him so pissed off was a good idea.

“you what? you got caught? i don’t want to hear it. in the living room, on your back, on the couch, shirt off, now. that’s not a request,” he orders, mocking you before shoving you back gently by your neck in the direction of the living room. when he lets go you take a deep breath, hanging your head a bit as you walk shamefully from the kitchen, an excited bubble forming in your tummy. he’s so mad, you think.

you know it’s wrong to make him mad on purpose, that it’s fucked up and wrong, but your body craves that rough fuck type of night. and if getting him enraged was the way to get what you wanted, then you honestly didn’t feel that bad.

tugging the plain black tee off of your torso on the way to the couch was the best feeling in the world. because that meant it was finally time for your dirty little mouth to be silenced. you knew what he planned on doing, that’s why has specifically not requested your pants be removed as well. because this isn’t about you. this is about him fucking that nasty attitude straight off your tongue. he didn’t want you getting any bright ideas that you could touch yourself, think about touching yourself, or expect him to fuck you into the early morning hours. a punishment is just that.

laying down on the plush cushion of the couch, head hanging just slightly over the edge, legs thrown over the back, your nipples hard and perky, hands needy for something to grab onto - you lick your ruby lips and wait for grayson to enter the living room and find you being a good girl for the first time all day. and when he does stalk through the doorway from the kitchen, he’s bare and hard as can be. you gasp audibly, a loud sound that shoots through the room. you forget sometimes when you aren’t both in a desperate, hot, blind lust, ‘let me get you in me now’ type of moment - that grayson was hung like a horse. and it shocks the daylights out of you so quickly, you don’t recall him walking so close until his tip is smoothing over your bottom lip.

he’s holding himself loosely, hair flopping in front of his face from looking down at your eyes that constantly seduce him, tapping his tip at your lips, slick and smooth and he’s already so fucking excited and pissed off that he’s leaking precum. just a small amount that leaks from his tip, close enough for you to taste. he jerks when your tongue peaks from between your lips to lick the creamy liquid off of his member, suckling just a bit on the reddened tip before popping free a second later.

“want you,” you whine, reaching up and pushing on the back of his inked thighs, giving him a squeeze to try and convince him to just let you have him already - ruin your throat and make you regret ever being a brat to him. but he tenses and you know better than to keep pushing.

“yeah? how bad?” he teases, taking a step back away from your hands, grinning when you lick at your lips once again, the taste of him lingering. such a desperate little slut. always so ready for his cock, willing to make him angry just to have him punish you.

“really bad g,” you simper, sticking your tongue out to show him just how much. instead of his cock landing on your tongue, you feel the subtle roughness of his thumb, smoothing over your tongue slowly. taking what you can get, you suck on it for just a moment before he removes his hand to grip himself again.

“my little bitch wants my cock in her mouth bad huh?” he continues to mock you, slipping himself in your mouth for a split second before pulling right back out, ignoring how good your tongue stroked him on the way out of your warm mouth for the time being. so fucking good.

staring down at your tits begging to be played with, he’s reaching forward to tug at one of your nipples, slapping your cheek in the process. even if you flinch, he knows you love the pain. but you still haven’t answered.

“answer me when i ask you a question.”

“yes i want your c-cock please let me have it,” you whine, reaching your hands out in a grabbing motion that on any other occasion he would find adorable, but not after being irritated with you all day. especially not with the way his dick twitched at your tiny little voice, tongue poking back out in an attempt to suck him back in.

“better make it worth my while,” is all he grunts before snapping his hips forward and burying all of his length in your throat, groaning at the warmth of your mouth and the slickness of your tongue sliding over him, “all that attitude earlier. pissing me the fuck of. better take all of me and like it.”

he throws his head back with the feeling of your cheeks suctioning around him, throat constructing, your gagging sounds muffled from him sinking in repeatedly. he’s got your head in his hands, fists wrapped up in your hair, holding you steady while he rocks forward. you’re doing the best that you can with what little air and brains you have at that point, moaning from the way he’s using you like the little toy you are.

“this what you wanted, y/n? wanted me to shut that mouth up?” grayson laughs, knowing you can’t answer. not with the tears and mascara that have made their way down your face, your thighs rubbing together, nails digging into his thighs (he’s gonna love those little crescent moon marks later), spit making a squelching sound every time he sinks all the way to his hilt - your chin pressed against his skin. you look dirty, used, sorry, and he loves it.

his thrusts quickly become frantic, fast and erratic, balls hitting your nose, tip ramming the back of your throat, tongue still smoothing over him with every push and pull. he’s absolutely spent, but he won’t stop until he’s sure you understand he does not play the disrespect game. and fuck - you feel so good. so wet and slippery as he continues to dip into his own pool of sin for the day.

“fuck yeah baby, fuck you like that don’t you? feel me all the way down your filthy throat. gonna cum gonna cum-“

your shaky hands tap a few times at the skin of his thighs, on a cloud of who knows what - desperation? lust? guilt? you don’t know. you just know you want to feel him let down right in your mouth. wanna taste all of him and show him how sorry you are, even if the hoarseness of your voice will prove just how sorry you are tomorrow.

and when he does let go, he screams a big “dammit” while shooting his load right in your mouth like you were hoping. you feel for a moment as if it might never stop, it’s definitely the most he’s ever released in your mouth. he rocks through his orgasm, hips moving forward slowly, your lips still wrapped around him tight and you make sure to keep sucking the entire duration - you wouldn’t dare let a drop go to waste.

he’s leaning down and gripping your chin, looking directly into your innocent “come kiss me” eyes, glaring at you for just a moment longer before he’s growling lowly, “don’t be fucking mean to me. understood?”

and you bet your ass you’re nodding your head like a good little girl, pucckering your lips for a kiss, heart melting at the way his eyes flicker from your tired eyes to your rosy lips before he leans in to seal his lips to yours. you sink into the kiss the best that you can with him being upside down. you just take your time to explore his lips and appreciate the softness of them before reaching up to cradle his face, batting your eyes lashes at him in the most innocent way you can muster.

“i’m sorry for being mean to you, honey,” you mumble, kissing him from his nose, to both his cheeks, and finally one last peck on the lips.

he smiles at that, softening up for you just like he always does. he can’t stay too mad for long.

“you’re forgiven angel, now get up we have food waiting in the kitchen that’s probably getting cold by now and your fine ass needs to eat.”

#asks #gray!concepts #grayson!concepts #*casually sucks popsicle while writing this*

149 notes · View notes

pricklerick · 3 years

Text

Thanksgiving used to be Summer’s favorite holiday.

It meant spending two whole nights with Jerry’s parents and waking up early and going for a long walk in the snow, then peeling off wet clothes just in time to watch the dog show on TV while grandma baked pumpkin pie.

Things are different now, with Grandpa Rick and Morty gone. Dad, of course, had instantly accused Grandpa Rick of kidnapping Morty. Mom had screamed that her father would never do something like that to his family, to her (even know Summer knows that deep down, her mother was very afraid that Grandpa Rick had done exactly that).

The divorce was so ugly that Summer transferred to a school in Texas, losing a bunch of her class credits just to get away from them.

Texas is good. Well, it’s hot, and Summer’s skin hates that, but the people are nice and her classes are easy, and if she stays within a certain neighborhood, she can find whatever she wants without having to edge over to the east side of town.

She even has a finance. David plays football and his parents own a ranch in the Texas hill country. They have a little money and they like to flaunt it.

Years ago, before Grandpa Rick burst into Summer’s life and started taking her little brother on adventures, before portal guns and real guns and near death experiences became Summer’s adrenaline fix, she would have been thrilled to nail down a guy like David. David is kind, and sweet, and very attractive. He’s got a good future and he’s looking at being scouted as quarterback next year.

Summer’s ring is a gaudy thing, at least two carats, and it sits heavy on her finger. She only wears it when she knows she’ll be with David or the in-laws. It’s an heirloom ring, passed down through generations, and Summer hates it. She’s forever fiddling with it, or pulling her sleeve down to cover it, or hiding it in her back pocket when she’s out with girl friends.

She doesn’t go out as often anymore - they’re seniors now, and Summer has been told that the partying needs to slow down now that David’s future is getting serious. Summer is fine with this. There’s nothing on this earth that matches a party in space, anyway.

Sometimes, Summer looks up at the night sky and wonders how she could get her hands on some of Grandpa Rick’s K-Lax. That was good stuff.

It’s easy to justify spending Thanksgiving away from home because of travel expenses and final exams. Summer’s done it three years in a row now. She doesn't often think of Beth, or of Jerry, either. She’s deeply entrenched in a new family now, invested in a future mother-in -law who insists on being called “Mama June” or even just “Mama,” and an emotionally detached father-in-law who feels that talking to a woman who is not his wife is beneath him.

Summer is spending more and more time outside, looking at the stars, wishing, remembering.

But this week, the week before break, at 2:43 am, Summer’s phone screen lights up with a call from “Beth Smith.” And when Summer, groggy and maybe already a little hungover, answers with a hoarse, “Hello?” Beth is slobbering drunk.

“Honey, please,” Beth cries, slurring her words and hitching her breaths. “I need to see my baby, Summer. It’s Thanksgiving, next week. Summer, remember? Remember Thanksgiving? You... You’re all I have left.”

Yeesh.

Summer does not want to spend her break dealing with Beth and all of her sloppy-alcoholic coping mechanisms.That’s why she’d run away to Texas to begin with.

Summer hasn’t been home since the night they lost Morty.

She doesn’t want to go back. So she shushes Beth over the phone, lets her cry it out and then they start it all again, the crying and the shushing, over and over until Beth is nearly asleep, slurring half-formed words into her pillow.

Summer disconnects the call and drops her face into her hands. “Fuck.”

“What, babe?”

Ugh, she’d forgotten that David had stayed over.

David wraps his greedy arms around Summer’s waist and pulls her in, his naked boner brushing hot against her thigh. It makes her sick. She pulls away from him, leaning against the headboard and fumbling for the lamp. Beside her, David blinks owlishly in the light.

“I’m going home for Thanksgiving,” she tells him. No sense dragging it out.

“Oh,” says David, reaching up to stroke Summer’s cheeks and twine his fingers in her hair. Summer tenses at this, but David is oblivious, still carding his big stupid paws though Summer’s shower-damp braids and looking at her with an intensity that is frankly... terrifying. “What about coming back to Pilot Point, babe?,” he reminds her and he leans forward in an effort to pepper Summer’s face with kisses. Summer dodges them, making a show of reaching for her phone, so David grabs her hand instead. “Remember talking about seeing my folks?”

Summer is suddenly disgusted with herself. She ran away from home straight into the arms of this Mama’s boy who can hardly keep it up for the four and a half minutes it takes him to blow his load in missionary position.

Summer is a Sanchez.

She’s wondered for a while, especially after that stunt Dad pulled during the divorce, if she should have her name legally changed. She shares a quarter of Grandpa Rick’s genes, and by her rights as a Sanchez, the universe owes her good sex.

At least.

“Sorry, David,” she says and she deftly rolls away from him to stand at the edge of their shared bed. “Plans have changed. Mom needs me.”

Now David is sitting up, looking for all the world like a kicked puppy, but there’s a hardness in his eyes that Summer doesn’t like. Oh well. In for a penny, she guesses.

“Listen, dude, this isn’t working anyway. I’m not the hot little wifey on your arm that your parents are hoping you’ll find here.” She snorts, pacing around the bedroom, ticking off points on her fingers. “I don’t even want kids. I’m Summer Sanchez. I’ve been to space. I’ve seen the stars and constellations and comets and asteroids. I’ve met people you wouldn’t believe. I’ve met planets you wouldn’t believe - sentient planets, David! I’ve hit alien drugs that would blow your tiny mind.” She’s trembling now, all keyed up, but it feels good. There’s something cathartic about acknowledging the truth after so long.

She decides that Summer Sanchez has a nice ring to it.

She lifts her hands and twirls, landing in a heap at the foot of the bed. “The best sex I ever had was with a flying lamb on Oourivian Prime, for Chrissakes.” Summer turns, flushed and grinning, and pokes David in the chest. “You better believe I’m not settling down on a silly horse farm in Pilot Point!”

David is looking at her wide-eyed and slack-jawed, like he’s seeing her for the first time. The thought makes Summer smile a real smile. In a fit of giddiness, she pecks him playfully on the lips, sliding his ridiculous ring from her finger and curling it into his palm. “Good luck with that, babe!”

Feeling freer than she has in years, she flutters around the room, grabbing a few outfits that she likes and stuffing them haphazardly into an old gym bag. The whole thing takes less than a minute.

“Oh, and don’t take it too hard,” she calls over her shoulder, “I don’t think we’re really all that sexually compatible, anyway.” She waves a hand toward the flagging erection that is peaking from David’s boxers. “I’m more of a tentacle kind of girl, if you know what I mean.”

And so, during the fall semester of her senior year, Summer Sanchez dropped out of Texas A&M’s pre-law program and flew home to see her mother for the first time in three years.

xxx

Morty enters through the front door because he’s not a stranger. He’s not exactly sure how long it’s been on Earth - time moves differently on Morty’s waste planet - but somehow, he hadn’t expected it to be night. It makes him feel like a burglar, walking up the concrete steps to the front door with his big black cowl pulled low over his face, a deeply ingrained habit.

“You’ve only got one face, Mo-AAAUURRGG-rty. Don’t get caught with it.”

The key code to unlock the door is the same. Morty sighs, surprised at the stress that leaves his body with this revelation. He hadn’t wanted to break into his parents’ home. Now, he doesn’t have to.

He whirls around, taking one last look at the ship he’d parked on the garage pad. He’d avoided the streetlamps best he could, managed to land very quietly (thanks for that rad auto-landing feature, Rick)partially concealed behind some overgrown azaleas.

Morty sighs, tense again. Modifications aside, that is obviously Rick’s ship to anybody who knows it. Morty hopes he can get what he needs and get out. It would be wrong to disturb whatever peace his family had managed to regain in the years he’s been gone.

The front door is squeakier than Morty remembers. He slips into the kitchen as quickly, quiet as a ghost, and pulls the door slowly to behind him.

His first thought is that he’d forgotten that home has a smell. Carpet and lemon pledge and laundry detergent, and the lingering scent of last night’s dinner all converge on his senses like a physical blow to the gut.

How could Morty have forgotten that smell?

He glances around, eyes adjusting to the dim light of the street lamps. A few scattered dishes lie in the sink, an empty wine bottle sits abandoned on the counter. He’s standing on the same ugly linoleum floor with its worn green leaf patten, so subtle you’d miss it if you didn’t know where to look.

Time hasn’t touched the kitchen.

Morty stands in his childhood home and takes three deep breaths. He thought he’d been prepared for anything and everything - all the changes. He’d been ready.

But the house is exactly the same.

It’s Morty who has changed.

Morty’s breathing speeds, and he shakes off the shudder that tempts to run down his spine. If the kitchen affected him this deeply…. He swings his gaze to the garage door that beckons ominously to his left.

Don’t think about it, he reminds himself sharply. The plan is simple - break into the garage, grab the stuff, and get out. There will be time for memories later.

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about… him.

Morty shakes himself, setting his shoulders and pulling the heavy door handle toward him as he turns it to minimize noise. Unlike the kitchen, the swing of the garage door is silent.

The darkness deepens as Morty steps down the single step - there are no windows to let in the glow of the street lights here. The air is hotter and heavy, almost stale, and as Morty turns his back to the room to slowly pull the door to, he gets the strangest feeling. It’s almost the uneasiness he feels when he walks to the grave of the other Morty who is buried in the backyard. It raises the hairs on his neck, and Morty wonders if anybody in the family have used this garage since...

Don’t think about it.

Door secured and locked, Morty lets his fingers drift along the walls, his opposite hand outstretched in search of obstacles. But it seems that the garage is exactly as Morty remembers, and he navigates the dark with increasing confidence. He snags the dangling string - right where it should be - and tugs. The bare bulb that hangs over Rick’s work table pops and hums as it slowly blinks on, and Morty bites back a smile at the irony of the inter-galactic space genius Rick Sanchez discovering his greatest scientific breakthroughs beneath this dirty fluorescent bulb.

A thousand memories assault him at once.

“A hair, Morty, I need one of your hairs!”

“Bring me the thing. The thing. The thing. The -- the -- it's got, like, buttons on it and lights on it. It -- it -- it beeps.”

“You little son of a bitch! Y-y- are you a simulation?! Huh?! Are you a simulation??”

“I’m the Rickest Rick there is. And you know, it would - UUUURRGGHH- go without saying that the Rickest Rick… would have the Mortyest Morty.”

“Be better than I am.”

“Don’t… Don’t think about it.”

Morty sucks in a deep breath and grits his teeth hard. Time to get busy.

xxx

Three hours later, and Morty is almost done with the garage.

He glances at the digital clock that reads 3:33. By the time he gets this stuff loaded, it’ll be nearly daylight.

Damn, he’d really hoped to get everything in one trip. Fuel for a trip to Earth from his encampment is not cheap, and this was a long trip.

He picks up the first item, a strangely lightweight box labeled “Time Travel Stuff” and heads toward the kitchen. He dares not raise the garage door - that would make too much noise.

He opens the door and comes nose to nose with Summer.

“What. The fuck. Are you doing in my grandpa’s garage?” she says slowly, advancing on him with each word.

Morty’s first thought as he stumbles backward is, “Where did my sister get a pistol?”

He trips over the step in an effort to give her some space, sending the box flying. He finds himself sprawled on the floor, space bits everywhere, and his ass is killing him. “Ah, geez,” he breathes, repositioning slowly to take the pressure off of his coccyx. It’s probably broken.

Summer’s hands are trembling, and she lowers the gun. “Morty?”

Oh. His hood had fallen when he did. Morty looks up at her, a little sheepishly, suddenly very aware of the beard he’d decided to grow a while back. “Umm, yeah,” he says lamely, still wincing at the pain. “Hi!”

There’s a funny expression on Summer’s face, like she’s thinking a billion things at once, and her eyes are wider than Morty’s ever seen them. But then her gaze hardens. “And which one are you?” she demands, looking as if she’d like to bring the gun back to his head.

Morty raises his eyebrows. He wouldn’t have expected Summer to immediately question his dimension. Clever of her. He quirks a little smile. “C-137,” he answers her, trying and mostly failing to get back on his feet. “I’m your Morty. Well, your second Morty.”

Quick as a blink, Summer slings the gun away. It lands with a clatter and she launches herself at Morty, wrapping him in a rib-creaking hug. Morty’s body tenses - hugs are definitely not his typical physical interaction. But Summer is burying her face into the crook of his neck, and Morty is surprised to find how easily it fits there. When he’d left, they’d barely stood eye to eye.

Morty is stunned. Summer has never hugged him like this. Feebly, he reaches up and lays his hand across her back. She’s shuddering. So Morty pulls her closer, shifting his weight so that his knees are beneath him, and gathers her in. She allows this, never looking up at him, and slowly, Morty relaxes into it.

“Summer?” he asks softly after what feels like a long time. He’s never been good with his sister’s emotions.

Summer cranes her neck sideways to look at him, and she’s a mess of mascara and tears, red-faced and absolutely shaking with laughter. Morty huffs with her, still utterly bewildered by girls. “What’s funny?”

“Nothing’s funny, Morty,” she tells him, but she’s still laughing, so Morty laughs with her. “You’ve been gone for three years. You’ve been legally declared dead, you asshole!” She swats him on the shoulder, but he manages to doge the blow, which only makes her face fall. She comes closer, looking more tearful now than before, and settles beside him. “We had a fucking funeral for you, you complete sack of dicks!”

Morty doesn’t know what to say, so he grabs Summer’s hand and squeezes. “Sorry.”

And he is.

Summer rolls her eyes and snorts, but there’s something softer at the edge of her lips, and she lays her head on Morty’s shoulder and sighs. Morty assumes means he’s forgiven, at least on some level.

They only sit like that for a minute or so before Morty starts to fidget. His ass is absolutely killing him, and time’s a-ticking. He needs to get out of here soon. Summer seems to read the tension in his body, because she stands abruptly and offers her hand, pulling him to his feet with an exaggerated groan.

“Thanks,” he quirks her a little half-smile, the only thing he has to offer her.

But Summer isn’t looking at him. Her eyes are tracking around the garage, noting the boxes that have been drug out and packed up. Something tightens in her face, and when she speaks, it’s in that no-nonsense tone that always drove him up the wall when they were kids.

“What happened, Morty?” Summer finishes her sweep of the garage and pins her gaze on him.

Morty nearly stumbles back at the intensity of it.

“What happened to you? Where is Grandpa Rick?”

Authors Notes:

Based on Vapor Morty, who was originally developed in this hot mess of a text post. Rick’s been kidnapped and Morty has been scouring the universe trying to find him and doing a lot of learning and growing along the way.

Kidnapped Rick saw Morty “die” just before he was kidnapped and went crazy over it. Morty obviously wasn’t dead, was trying to get to Rick to say hey, I’m all good and these guys are after you so let’s get out of here.

Morty literally lives in an intergalactic dumpster and makes a living renovating and selling weapons and machinery. He found his way home to earth because he wants to find any of Rick’s stuff that he could possibly use to track him down, or maybe even build his own portal gun.

Basically, Morty is a little badass now.

I might write more of these little drabbles if people are interested in them. Also, just really hoping I got Summer’s voice right here. Feedback is always, always appreciated, friends! My messages and ask box are open!

#pricklerick original #rick and morty #vapor morty #rick sanchez #morty smith #rickorty #summer smith #i could pretty easily be convinced to dabble deeper into this au #so many vapor morty feelings #summer is my precious sunshine child

36 notes · View notes

mightyfineblog · 4 years

Text

‘Your Biggest Fan’ Ben Hardy x Reader

Summary: You are about to show your boyfriend exactly how much of a fan you are, the way only you know how.

Words: 1.7+

Warnings: fluff, smut, stimulation, begging, oral, tongue, both giving and receiving, L-bomb

Here is it. Enjoy:

2 days to 6 Underground premiere

“Is that what you’re wearing?” You huff.

“What’s wrong with it?” Ben spins in front of the mirror.

“Mmm…” you pout your lips and lift your eyebrows.

“You don’t like it.” He laughs, catching your glimpse in the mirror.

“I don’t hate it.” You roll your eyes.

Ticking your tongue, you slide off the sofa across the dressing room, making your way to Ben.

“On the second thought.” You murmur, eyeing your boyfriend up and down, like a piece of cake.

“What?” he chuckles.

“I think.” You stop in front of him, blocking his view in the mirror, making him shift his graze to you.

You spread your arms over his shoulders and rub the back of his neck. He smirks playfully, as his hands immediately attach to your lower waist.

“You were sayin?” he pulled you closer.

“Maybe, I prefer you wearing this to the premiere of 6 underground.” You reason with yourself. Sliding your hand over his chest, you run it down along the fabric of his blazer.

“I hate the shirt. But I like the suit.” You whisper, nuzzling the crook of his neck.

His hands grabbed your bum, pressing you hard against his body.

“Sir. Sir. Excuse me, sir. Madam” the saleswoman interrupts, making you jump off his brace.

“May I suggest, a simple collarless shirt?” she lifts a few hangers.

“I’ll take these” you grab them off her hands and push them onto Ben.

“Come on, you heard the woman.” You laugh as you push him back in the dressing room, closing the door behind you.

Premiere day

You have been given a VIP pass to the red carpet and access to the dressing rooms. Being excited like it was your movie, you tip toed around like a little kid.

“Your time to go B.” you place a sweet kiss on Ben’s lips. The kind of kiss that says you can do it. “I’m so proud of you.” You smiled back at him.

“You deserve to be there right by my side.” Ben smacked you bum.

“None of the other guys brought their girls.” You reason with him.

“And?” he pull you closer by your waist.

“This is your moment.” You stroke his cheek with the back of your fingers.

“And I want to share it with you.” His eye light with hope.

“And you will. You are.” You smile at him.

“I’ll be alright. I’ve got Joe with me.” You point at Joe hanging around with a bottle of beer.

“Besides” you give him another kiss “I’ll always be your biggest fan. Let them drool a bit. What matters is, I can have you nay time of the day...” you straddle his lap “and night.” You smile devilishly.

“Hey there.” Ben kisses you back.

“Gotta go now. I’ll see that fangirl of yours later.” He slid you off his lap and gave you a final kiss before disappearing to the red carpet and camera flashes.

“I can’t with you two.” Joe snaps you out of your daydream.

“Dunno what you talking about Joe.” You nervously chuckle.

“You two act like teenagers who can’t keep of each other. Aaand you’ve been together for like forever.” Joe hand you a beer.

“It’s not forever, we’re not old. Just, since filming Bohemian Rhapsody.” You take the bottle and take a gulp.

“Let’s go take our places.” He suggests.

After every interview and photo have finished, you were finally in the car on the way home. “Babyy” you bat your eyelashes at Ben.

“How’s my girl?” he takes your feet on his lap.

“Mhm. Remember how I told you I’m your biggest fan?” you crawl and sit in his lap.

“I’mmabout to prove it. Tonight.” You confidently move your bum against his lap.

“Well, well, well. I little birdie told me, somebody was getting quite jell-o tonight.” He pokes your nose.

“More like horny.” You lick your lips, giving him your best bedroom eyes.

“Happy to see about that.” Ben pressed his lips against yours.

You kissed him back, burying your fingers in his neck, moaning quietly.

“No partition in this car, baby. The driver sees it all.” He whisperes.

“Don’t care. Let him watch me do this.” You grind harder against his growing bulge, tossing your head back.

“Whoa, whoa, baby slow down.” He grabs your hips. “We’re almost home.”

As soon as you get out of the car you hurry to make your way inside. Jumping on Ben’s neck you hang like a bride while the lift reaches your floor.

“Keys. Keys” Ben struggles carrying you.

“Only for a bit.” You slide of him.

Once inside, Ben shuts the door, pressing you firmly against it.

“Come here baby.” He growls, kissing you, while his hands roam your body up and down.

“Fuck that silk dress.” He slides his hand underneath it pulling your leg up. Positioning himself between your legs, he lifts you up, wrapping your ankles behind his back.

“I need you.” You moan.

“And I need you” he growls, tightening the grip on your waist.

You wrap your hands around his neck and kiss him passionately, deeply savouring the moment.

Not breaking the kiss, Ben only manages to the kitchen. Sitting you on the countertop, he takes a step back for a moment.

“God I love you so much.” He girts his teetch.

“Have then. Ben.” You pull him by his neck.

“Fuck me” you command, almost beg.

Ben’s lips latch on your neck. Swiping his tongue and lips on the sweet spot he knows makes your knees weak. He sucks and bites on your shoulder, while his other hand slides down your silky dress to reveal your breasts.

The cold air, instantly makes your nipples hard. His finger and thumb glide over to slightly pinch and pull on each nipple, making you whine in pleasure.

“Do you like this, doll?” he breaths hard against your bruised shoulder.

“Heavenly.” You breathe out.

Before you know it, Ben is bent down sliding your knickers to the side.

“Glistening and dripping. My favourite.” He looks up and smirks.

Ben kisses your inner thigh and gave you a few small bites, while making his way to where you need him the most.

“Shit.” You let the breath you were holding when his lips brush over your core.

His tongue gives you a few long strokes before closing his lips to suck on your clit. Letting your head fall back, you succumb to the pleasure with your hands guiding his head.

“Damn it, Ben.” You try to catch your breath, trying to last a bit more.

“Come here.” You pull him up to your lips for a long and deep kiss, licking your juices from his mouth, tasting your own saltiness.

“You taste amazing.” He murmurs, grabbing your hips, digging his nails into your skin.

“I want your fingers. I need them” you whine, begging.

He smiles, pushing his index and middle fingers in your mouth. You suck them, letting your saliva drip. Pulling them out, he immediately pushes two fingers inside of you, earning a loud moan from you. His fingers curve in a pulling you closer motion and keeps pressing on the spot. His other hand holds you by your chin, kissing you passionately. You couldn’t hold yourself any longer, his expert and thick fingers keep reaching that place inside of you, making you loose your breath with every motion.

“Ben. Ben.”

“Close, right?” Ben kisses your neck.

“Let go baby, I’ve got you.” His whisper makes you shiver, right before your orgasm hits you. Washing over hot and cold waves through your whole body, your body shakes, with load screams.

Muffling you with his mouth, Ben’s finger slow down, slowly pulling out, dripping your mess everywhere.

“God, you’re amazing.” You shake your head, as he lifts you up and carries you to the bedroom.

“What is it that you fangirls like to do?” he jokes a little, while sitting with you in his lap.

“It goes something like this.” you slide off to the ground and pulled his trousers and knickers down.

Without any hesitation you take his hard on out in your hand. Running your tongue over to moisturise it, you start at the base of his shaft and pump him. Hard and fast. When you look up you see all this satisfaction on his face, so you decide to take things further. Licking your lips, you give him a few long strokes bottom to top, before closing your lips at the tip. Hollowing your lips you such at the tip, feeling his own pre-cum all around. You bob your head up and down for a while, before he pulls you up setting you above his cock.

“Ride me, my love.” You hear the begging in his command and are more than happy to oblige.

Setting yourself above him, you slide down slowly, making both of you gasp.

“Fuck. So. Tight.” Ben straightens himself, so he is able to grab your neck pull you in for a kiss.

You start to move, slowly at first, before speeding up. Your hands entwine with his over his head for support as you both look into each other’s eyes.

His growling and shaking tells you he is close, just when you feel your second orgasm reaching.

“Come with me.” You lower to kiss him. His only answer is to nod, breathlessly.

You keep riding him faster and faster, until both you explode. He fills you up completely, shaking his body uncontrollably, which intensifies your orgasm. You both come with a scream and gasping for air. As you slow down a little, he reaches to kiss you once again.

“You’re amazing.” He squeezes you tight in his brace.

“Not bad yourself Hardy.” You poke his nose.

“Come here.” He lifts you up and lays you beside him.

“And we’re still clothed.” Ben giggles.

“Like I’m your groupie, right?” you joke, snuggling under his arm.

“You’re my only one.” He kisses the top of your head.

“I’ll always be your biggest fan.” You place a kiss on his chest.

“I’m so ready for shower and some sleep. What do you think?” he nudges you after a while, only not get answer.

“Baby?” he quietly moves his head to look at you, only to find you smiling asleep under his arm.

“I love you, darling.” He kisses your head and squeezes you firmer under his arm.

______

A/n: Please do let me know your thoughts on it. I’d love to hear it all.

#ben hardy smut #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy fanfiction #ben hardy fanfic #ben hardy x you #ben hardy 6 underground #ben hardy borhap #borhap smut #6 underground smut #skywalker smut #ben hardy #ben hardy x reader smut #ben hardy fluffy #ben hardy fic #borhap fanfiction #ben hardy premiere #6 underground premiere

764 notes · View notes

defibrillation-and-lactation · 4 years

Text

Captured Agents

TRIGGER WARNING: medical/resus related content below

Story ideas came from nhattan212 on DeviantArt.

Somewhere out in Asia, there is a mad doctor and scientist, named Dr. Andy. He has his own secret underground laboratory where he experiments and creates drugs and technology to alter the human body. His mission is to recruit as many henchmen as he can, then modify their bodies to have strong power and abilities. He wants to use these super henchmen to assist him in overthrowing the government.

His most recent endeavors involve him stealing supplies that would help him create drugs and machines to make his henchmen powerful. He has been going to government buildings that carry the things he needs and has disguised himself as a government worker. Some of the real government workers have started to become suspicious of him and alerted officials higher up.

This has led to an investigation into why these supplies have gone missing and who is the one behind it. The government has chosen two female agents to help locate and capture the thief. They are Agent Xi and Agent Mira. Both of them are military trained government officials who specialize in spying and close quarters combat.

It was Wednesday morning. Agent Xi and Mira start their mission today. They are deployed to the location where Dr. Andy commonly stole stuff. Around 9:00 am, Dr. Andy shows up at the back of the government building in a truck. He was wearing a gas mask and gloves. He enters the building and starts collecting some chemicals. He stuffed them in a black bag that was on top of a utility cart. That’s when Agent Mira walked in and saw what he was doing.

“Hello, sir! What are you doing here collecting all of these chemicals?” Mira said.

“I-I’m gathering supplies that a client bought so I can deliver them later today.” Dr. Andy said, trying to make a quick lie.

“Oh really? May I see your identification card, please?” Mira replied.

“S-sure.” Dr. Andy said, hesitantly taking out his fake credentials.

“Hmmm. I’ve never heard of any Andy working here. You must be new” Mira said to him.

“Yeah I am. I started here a week ago.” Andy said nervously.

“Well, employees like you should be in training for a few weeks before you gain access to this place.” Mira responded.

“That’s strange. They told me to start working here today!” Andy said to her.

“Well I’m not buying that answer. Agent Xi! I’ve found the suspect.”

Agent Xi burst into the room. She pointed a taser gun at the mad doctor.

“Hands up! You’re under arrest for theft of government resources.” Agent Xi said in a loud, stern voice.

Dr. Andy raised his hands slowly and gently tapped the back of his left glove. This set off a small grenade on his pants, dispersing a gas that can knockout people in seconds. He made it himself in his laboratory.

Agent Xi shot her taser gun at the suspect when she heard the explosion. He quickly dodged it and ran behind a counter. Mira and Xi both inhaled the gas and starting gasping for air. They quickly collapsed and fell to the ground. Andy poked his head from cover and saw the two girls on the ground. No other security guards or staff members were present.

“Yes! Not only have I gotten the supplies I needed, I also have two little guinea pigs I can use.” He whispered happily to himself.

Dr. Andy gathered all the drugs he needed and put them on the bottom of a cart. He picked up the two women and laid them on the top of the cart. He brought the cart to his truck and loaded the supplies inside. He dropped the the women’s bodies in the back. He then sped off back to his lab to get to work on making his dreams come true.

Dr. Andy arrived at his headquarters around noon. He entered and parked in his underground garage. He ordered a utility cart and a large stretcher down there to transport his stolen goods. He loaded all the chemicals onto the cart had a couple employees bring them to storage room. He then picked both girls he kidnapped and secured them onto the huge stretcher. He then transferred them to his laboratory where he had a massive operating room inside.

Dr. Andy opened the door to his lab and inside was a floor that was split into two rooms. The left side was a laboratory where Andy would create weapons, technology and drugs to help him get closer to taking over the country. On the right side, is an operating room with multiple operating tables. It was loaded with many monitors and medical equipment to perform surgeries, procedures, and many experiments with the products made in the lab.

Dr. Andy wheeled the two girls into the operating room and parked the stretcher next to two operating tables that were very close to each other. He lifted Xi off the stretcher and set her on the left table. Then, he pulled Mira off the stretcher and placed her on the table on the right. Both of them laid there unconscious on the tables. He unzipped the zipper in the middle of their black suits, revealing two pale, slender torsos. Both of them had a normal sized pair of breasts. Both were braless and their nipples were erect from being exposed to the cold air in the room.

Making sure they were still alive, He checked their eyes. He pulled out a penlight from his lab coat. He gently opened Xi’s eyelids shined it into both of her eyes. Her pupils contracted quickly. Next he checked Mira’s eyes. He shined the same light in her eyes and her pupils shrunk quickly. He checked both of their radial pulses. There appeared to be a steady, normal pulse, so they seemed to still be alive and well. He put on his stethoscope and approached Mira. He placed the stethoscope in the the middle of her chest. What he heard sounded normal. He moved down to the bottom of her chest and listened there. He heard a normal heart rhythm. He turned around and listened to Xi’s heart. In the middle of her chest he heard a steady beat. The bottom of the chest showed no problems either. Both seemed to be in good condition.

Next, he stripped them naked. He untied their boots and pulled them off. He pulled off their black socks, uncovering two pairs of clean feet. He pulled them out of their black suits, revealing two slim, naked bodies. Xi was wearing black panties, while Mira did not have any at all. Dr. Andy slid off Xi’s panties and put them aside. Both Xi and Mira were now completely nude. They were still out cold from the gas that Andy used on them. He was free to do whatever he wanted to them.

First, he started inspecting the bodies. Both had medium short hair. Xi had black hair. Mira’s hair was brown. Their faces were free of any blemishes. He opened their mouths and saw good hygiene in both of them. Their teeth were shining white with healthy pink gums. Both of them had a slim torso with a little definition in their abs. Their bellies were nice and firm. Andy had a little fun poking and pressing their stomachs. He spread their navels wide open with his fingers, poking and stroking them. He gave both of their stomachs a gentle massage, rubbing them softly. He moved on to their breasts. They were firm and springy. Dr. Andy played around with them, squeezing and and softly compressing them. He pinched their nipples, twisting them as well. He gave their breasts a massage, cupping them with both hands and giving them a firm rub. Their arms were thin with a little tone in them. Their hands were small with evenly cut fingernails. Their thighs were nice and thick. They had a little muscle to them as well. He gave them a firm squeezing and rub down, feeling their femoral arteries as well. His hands went swiftly down to their legs. They were thin, with some muscle in their calves as well. Andy moved on to their feet. They were nice and smooth. He gently caressed them and ran his fingers through their toes. Their nails were nice and and evenly cut. Their pubic hair were shaven clean. He spread open their vaginas with his fingers, showcasing some nice, pink, tender flesh. He rubbed their clits in a circular motion, then slowly stuck in a couple fingers inside for a few seconds. No foul odors was to be detected.

Next he checked their blood flow. He took out a Doppler and some gel. He poured a bit of gel on the doppler and some on their stomachs. He massaged the gel across their whole stomach. Their bellies were glistening with the surgical lights above making them shine. He moved the Doppler all across their abdomen and found no issues with their blood flow there.

“Okay, they seem to be pretty healthy. Time to start the experiments.” Andy said, as he gathered some ECG leads. He placed 3 leads on both of the girls’ chests. He turned on the heart monitors and connected the leads to them. Their hearts were beating at a normal, steady rhythm around 70 beats per minute. Dr. Andy was ready to start some testing. He walked to his lab and grabbed some syringes and some test tubes and bottles filled with various solutions.

He came back in to the operating room with a box and a mischievous smile on his face. From the box he pulled out a syringe and a bottle of orange liquid. He stuck the needles into the bottle and filled them with the orange serum. He took a couple of alcohol wipes and cleaned up the girls’ arms. He lined up the syringes at their arms. He injected both of the women simultaneously. He quickly bandaged up their injection site and waited for a reaction. In about 30 seconds, he started to notice some changes to their body. Both of them started to develop some tone in their abs. Their biceps and forearms became much more muscular than they were were before. Their thighs became much thicker and more defined. Their heart rates now hovered around 100 beats per minute.

After a minute had passed, their muscular transformation had peaked. Bulging arms had replaced their previously small size. Their legs and thighs were now extremely thick. Their stomach now donned a chiseled six pack and their breasts had grown from an average size to a much larger size.

Their heart rates started to shoot up to dangerous conditions. They were pumping furiously around 180 beats per minute. Their previously limp bodies started to twitch. It started as a couple muscle spasms and quickly escalated to full blown seizing. Dr. Andy pressed a button on the wall to contact help.

“Hello? Any nurses available?” Andy asked to everyone in the medical area of his headquarters.

“Yes, there are seven nurses on duty right now!” A nurse responded.

“Okay great! I need two nurses and two crash carts in the operating room, stat! Two of my test subjects are crashing!” Andy explained to them.

“We will be there in a moment, sir!”

Ten seconds later, the doors to the OR flung open and a bang was heard when the doors hit the wall. Two nurses appeared rushed in with fully loaded crash carts. Both were pretty busty and had long, brown hair. The one on the left left wore glasses. The one on the right had a small burn mark on her right cheek.

“Nurse Angel, start working on the girl on the left. I’ll work on the girl on the right. Nurse Hannah, help us with the supplies and equipment.” Andy ordered.

Everyone got to work hastily. Both Andy and Angel started compressions on the girls. Angel did chest compressions on Xi, while Dr. Andy did stomach compressions on Mira. Xi’s breasts jiggled with each pump from the nurse. Mira’s firm stomach was being harshly pushed in by the force of Andy’s strong hands. After a couple rounds of compressions, they used an ambu bag on them. Both of their still bodies rose and fell gently with each puff of the ambu bag. Their bellies expanded and contracted slowly with air. After that, they continued compressions, but switched methods. Xi was now being given stomach compressions and Mira received chest compressions. Angel was pumping Xi’s rock hard abs, while Andy was compressing Mira’s huge chest.

Nurse Hannah prepped the defibrillators and gel while keeping everything nice and tidy. She observed the scene and made sure everyone had quick access to their tools and equipment.

After another round of compressions, Dr. Andy looked up at the monitors above him. He saw two weak, unsteady pulses that were keeping the two alive. Audible alarms started sounding, indicating an irregular heartbeat.

“Okay, we got v-fib on the monitors! Let’s shock them at 100 joules.” Dr. Andy said to Nurse Angel.

“Understood” Angel responded.

Both of them grabbed the paddles and cranked the knob on the machine to 100J. They were already gelled up by Nurse Hannah.

“Charging” both of them said, rubbing the paddles together.

Angel placed the paddles in the middle of Xi’s breasts and on the side of her left tit. Andy places the paddles in the center of Mira’s chest and on her right breast.

“Clear!” Both exclaimed, warning everybody to stand back.

Mira and Xi’s bodies twitched from the shock. Their breasts jiggled slightly as the electricity surged through their chest. Dr. Andy looked back up at the monitors. Both of them had a fast, erratic heartbeat around 160 beats per minute.

“Still irregular. Charge up to 200 joules and shock em’ again!” Dr. Andy ordered.

Both turned their dials up and charged the paddles. Mira and Xi still appeared lifeless on the tables. They only had a short amount of time left. Their chests gleamed from the conductive gel. They were getting more pale by the minute.

After the defibrillators were done charging, both Dr. Andy and Nurse Angel placed the paddles back on the girls.

“Clear!” Both said, announcing the next shock.

The girls torsos jump slightly. Their backs arched up for a second as the higher level of energy coursed through them. Their breasts bounced greatly as their bodies slammed backed down on the tables. Moans could be heard from both of the girls. The shock had helped them regain their consciousness. The monitors showed a fast, but normal sinus rhythm and the alarms had now gone quiet.

“My girls have a normal rhythm now, but I think they are starting to wake up” Dr. Andy said, slightly panicking.

The girls coughed a bit, then looked around in confusion. Their blurry vision quickly became clear and they saw Dr. Andy right in front of them.

“Dr. Andy?” Both of the girls questioned.

“What are you doing with us? Where are we?” Mira asked, trying to make sense of what was going on.

Both girls started trying to get up. Their whole mission was to go after Dr. Andy. Before they could make any real moves, Nurse Angel and Dr. Andy found and grabbed anesthesia masks. They quickly put them on the girls and turned on the anesthesia tank in the cart. Within a few seconds, the girls went from flailing around to slowly falling back down on the operating table.

“Crisis averted.” Nurse Angel said.

“Thanks ladies for helping me with the .”

The girls were now asleep on the table. Dr. Andy and Nurse Angel secured their bodies in place with restraints at their wrists and ankles.

The effects of the super strength serum had now faded. The girls were no longer extremely muscular. Their breasts had shrunk back to their original size. It seems they had returned back to normal. Andy needed to work on making the serum work longer and put in less cardiac stimulants. The only thing left to do now was make sure the agents didn’t wake up and try to take down Dr. Andy again.

Dr. Andy walked into the laboratory next door to gather some brainwashing equipment. He took two syringes and two vials of a clear solution. He took them back into the operating room and started his final experiments for the day.

He filled the syringes with the clear solution. Inside the solution was a brainwashing fluid and a microchip. Andy hoped the solution would erase most of the girls’ memories and replace them with a mindset that made Dr. Andy their master. The microchip would be used as a tracking device to see where the girls were at all times.

Dr. Andy wiped the girls’ shoulders again with alcohol wipes. He took the syringes and injected both of them simultaneously, just like the first time. After patching up the injection site, he closely monitored the test subjects. So far, nothing strange had happened for a few minutes. He decided it would be a good idea to take them off of the anesthesia and let them recover. He turned the valves on the tanks of anesthesia and closed them tight. He took the tape off that was securing their masks in place and lifted them off their faces. He loosened the restraints keeping them in place, leaving them free. It was now time to wait until the anesthesia fully wears off and for them to wake up.

Dr. Andy and the nurses closely monitored the girls’ vitals. He worked on some more electronic ideas and chemicals for future experiments. The nurses stayed in the operating room just in case something happens so they can notify Andy. He checked in every so often to see if they woke up.

After a couple hours, Andy walked into the room to see how they were doing. That’s when the girls finally started to wake up. They slowly opened their eyes and started rubbing them. They looked around the room as their vision began to come back. Their EKGs looked pretty stable and hadn’t changed much since being down for a couple hours. As they observed the environment around them, they spotted Dr. Andy and kept a relaxed face. He was a little scared about this experiment. He kept a taser on standby just in case they tried anything funny.

“Hello Master.” Mira said, in a calm normal voice.

“Do you have any work you need us to get done?” Xi asked, in a normal, slightly robotic tone.

“U-ummm...”

“...Not right now, but I will have some soon.” Dr. Andy said, in awe and confusion about what he just did to these women.

“Yes!!! I’ve done it! I’ve got two slaves for my mission. This feels strange, but it’s amazing as well.” Andy said quietly to himself. He was truly in shock about what he has created.

After a few moments of comprehending this situation, Dr. Andy suddenly got a great idea. He really enjoyed inspecting the girls when they were unconscious on the operating table. Wanting to do more of that, he asked the girls kindly if they could act unconscious for them.

“Hey ladies. I know this may seem a bit weird to ask you, but could you two lay back down on those tables and act like you are knocked out? I need to inspect your bodies a bit.”

“Okay Master!” Both of them said gladly. They then laid back down and closed their eyes.

Dr. Andy immediately got to work on inspecting them once more. This time, he went back and forth between the girls after he played with each part of their bodies.

He started by playing with their nice silky hair. He ran his hands through their hair and gently stroked it. Then he grabbed a penlight and checked both of their eyes again. Their pupils responded normally to the light. Both of them however, were struggling to keep them open with the bright light shining into their conscious eyes. Next, he moved on to their faces. He squished and rubbed Xi’s cheeks around. Her face was soft and smooth. He opened her mouth and saw bright white teeth and light pink gums. Her tongue was colored the same as her gums. He looked at Mira’s mouth too, seeing the same thing there as well. Shiny teeth, with clean gums and tongue. Both were blessed with lovely, luscious lips. As he was doing this, the girls were letting out soft, quiet sounds. Their faces were tensed up a bit as well. They were not used to doing this.

“Okay girls, I know you’re trying your best, but I think it’s best that I put you two to sleep. I’ll administer anesthesia through gas.” Dr. Andy said to them. He wanted total silence throughout his examinations.

“Good idea, Master.” Mira said to him.

Dr. Andy pulled out some supplies from a cabinet in the room. They were fresh new anesthesia masks and tubing. He attached the tubing to the masks and then connected them to the tanks of anesthesia used earlier. He then gently set a mask onto Xi’s face and secured it with some tape. He then quickly went over to Mira’s side and placed her mask on her face and taped it on. Next, he went in between their beds, where the tanks were.

“Ready?” Andy announced.

The girls nodded in response. He turns the valves open and lets in the anesthesia into the masks. In a matter of 30 seconds, the girls drifted off into a deep sleep. Andy was now alone with the women in complete peace.

He then resumed his examination. He started again by checking out their arms. He lifted Xi’s arms a bit, checking her radial pulse at the same time. They were soft and lean. He let her arms drop down. They hit the ground at a normal speed. Totally limp. He then checked out Mira’s arms, again playing with them, checking her pulse and playing with them. Her arms had slightly more muscle. He let them drop too. It made a little louder thump as it made contact with the table. Next thing to inspect was her torso.

Dr. Andy started with Mira. His hands gravitated to her chest. He began kneading her breasts like dough. They were nice and soft. He played with her nipples, twisting and turning them with his fingers. After that he moved onto Xi’s breasts. He again massaged them, giving them a firm rub, tweaking her nipples as well. They were magnificently elastic, bouncing beautifully as he played with them. His hands went down to her stomach. He gave it gentle compressions. He gave her a massage around her navel, then proceeding to spread her belly button a bit. He enjoyed very second of this. He then started on Mira’s belly. He carefully rubbed down and squished her stomach. He poked and prodded at her navel, gently massaging it too. After that, it was time for the lower body.

He began with their thighs, giving them a firm squeezing. They were nice and thick, being smooth to the touch. He quickly gave their thin, but strong legs a little rub. He ran his hands down their legs to their feet. Their feet were nice and light colored, being a little red at the bottom. Their toenails were well pedicured. He gave their feet a little massage treatment, running his fingers between their toes as well. Now he moved on to their vaginas. He spread them open simultaneously with two fingers. Their lips were normal with a slight puff to them. He stuck a couple fingers inside and started rubbing them around inside. After he took them out, there was a noticeable amount of juice on his gloves. He took them off and put on a new, dry pair. The only thing left to do now was examine her backside.

Dr. Andy went up and shut the valves to the anesthesia tanks closed. He took off the girl’s masks, knowing it would probably be a couple hours before they woke up. He lifted up Mira and turned her around. Her back was now facing up. Andy did the same with Xi. Now he could properly check their backside.

He looked at Xi’s back, seeing a healthy spine with nothing unusual to see. He gave her a back massage, firmly rubbing from the top to the bottom. He approached Mira and saw a nice, perfect back as well. He gave her a similar massage moving from the upper back to the lower back. Both had smooth, warm skin there. From that, he starting looking at her butts. He gave Mira’s ass a firm kneading like he did with her breasts. He did the same to Xi as well. Both butts were smooth and slick. They were nice and tender, jiggling vigorously with gentle slaps. Down he went, moving to her thighs again. Grabbing Xi’s thighs firmly, he gave them a little rubbing. Mira’s thighs were given a firm rub as well, releasing a little built-up tension. Down to their calves, he gave them a soft stroking. To their heels, he rubbed them up in a circular motion, relieving them of some pain from daily training. He then ran his hands down the soles of their feet, applying gentle pressure to them. After that, he was satisfied with his examination of them. He turned the women around and laid them back down to how they were positioned before. He then called a nurse to watch them until they woke up. They would be shown the rest of the lab the next day. It was time for Dr. Andy to rest.

On that day, that night. His plan to take over the government advanced a step. He plans to work a lot more on his minions and take them along on his missions. The possibilities with his new members seem endless. He went to bed, hoping the next morning, he could get to know his new henchmen even stronger, smarter and overall just better. The girls slept next door, waiting for the next orders from Dr. Andy.

THE END

#defib #defibrillator #defibrillation #resus #resuscitation #medical #story #examination #experiment #fiction

19 notes · View notes

hopelessromanticspoonie · 5 years

Note

Congratulations on your milestone! Can I get #1 with Loki? Perhaps a bit of angst but leads to fluffy smut. Maybe the reader realizes her feelings after seeing him being flirty and affectionate with someone else and when he confronts her for acting differently, avoiding him and whatnot, she kind of loses it and just blurts it out and he responds with frustration as well. Sorry if that's too detailed but something along the lines of that is fine too.

Once again I have proven that I can’t write anything short. I think I managed to get everything you wanted in this, so I hope that you like it! Thank you so much for the congratulations and the request!

There is smut at the end of this, so y’all have been warned. Oh, yeah, there’s some language, too.

Brawn Over Brains

You would think that the most annoying sound in the world was something obvious, like nails on a chalkboard, someone chewing with their mouth open, or maybe the weird slightly out of tune humming that Sam does when you’re in a bad mood just to grind your gears.

But you were proven incorrect when the grating, too-loud cackle of the newest recruit to the Avengers assaulted your ears. You cut your eyes at her, feeling your blood absolutely boil in your veins at her fawning and throwing herself at Loki. He looked quite pleased with her attentions, all puffed out chest and handsome grins as they chatted in the corner.

You slammed your hand down a little too hard at the display they were putting on, accidentally forcing the knife through the onion you were cutting so hard that it split the wooden cutting board in two. Shit.

“What’d that poor cutting board ever do to you?” Sam asked, coming up beside you and carefully taking the knife out of your white-knuckled grip.

You blamed the onion for the heat stinging at the corners of your eyes, gritting your teeth. “Just got distracted for a minute by Miss Thang over there, batting her eyelashes at Loki like he’s a piece of meat.”

“Oh, jealous, are we?“

You weren’t jealous, that was absurd. Sure, you had grown close to Loki ever since Stark had plucked you from a cell deep in an underground Hydra base. Your enhanced strength had proven you an effective member of the Avengers, and you had been drawn to the intimidating God of Mischief. Both mistrusted at first, but valuable for what you could do for others, paying for your position with a pound of flesh.

He was attractive, yes, so much so that the very thought of his emerald eyes locking onto yours made your pulse thrum beneath your skin. But it was more than that. He had a sharp wit and a sharper tongue, keeping you on your toes. You both thoroughly enjoyed each other’s company, even if it was spent in silence while he read and you fiddled about on your phone. He was your best friend, at the very least, and lately you had hoped that that could grow into something more.

But Miss Perfect, with her hourglass figure, shiny hair, and big brown eyes, had swooped in and set her sights on him. She flirted with him with an ease that you could never match. Plus, she was several years your junior. You couldn’t compete with that. He certainly didn’t seem like he minded the attention. Who were you to get in the way of a budding romance?

You wiped your hands roughly on a dishtowel, shaking your head. “Hell no. He’s free to do whatever, and whomever, he wants.”

You could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on your back as you stormed out, but you couldn’t care less.

It was easy enough to navigate Stark Tower without running into either of them. You knew Loki’s schedule like the back of your hand, since you would normally go about your days together. Now that the new girl was trailing after him like a lost puppy, you just switched your routine around a bit. Trained a little later, ate a little earlier, and generally used the buddy system to ensure that he couldn’t catch you off guard.

But after missions, you always found it difficult to sleep. The adrenaline seemed to take ages to fully leave your system, even as lead weighed down your limbs and bruises pockmarked your skin. It wasn’t anything that a bit of a midnight snack couldn’t fix, though. And if it wouldn’t fix it, it wasn’t as if ice cream ever hurt anybody. Except your waistline, but you’d spent all day kicking ass. You’d earned it.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

Loki’s low voice coming from the shadows of the living room made you shriek and jump in shock, dropping your spoon. You put a hand on your chest, as if it could calm your suddenly racing heartbeat.

“Fuck! I’m going to put a bell around your neck,” you hissed, dropping your head to your chest as you took in deep breaths.

“That is one of the more interesting Midgardian fashion suggestions you’ve given me.”

You dropped your now-dirty spoon into the sink, grabbing another from the drawer without answering him. All you needed was the ice cream…

Of course Loki had planted himself in front of the refrigerator, arms crossed over his chest and chin raised so he stared down the long slope of his nose at you. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

You slapped the back of the spoon repeatedly on your palm, letting your head tilt to the side. “Yup,” you replied, popping the last syllable.

“May I ask why?”

You pretended to think about that question for a moment, staring up at the ceiling and chewing on your bottom lip lightly before directing your level gaze back to him. “Um, let’s see… Nope.”

He ripped the spoon from your hand, sending it to the sink with a forceful throw that made it clang a little too loudly for the time of night. “Then I will demand it. Why are you avoiding me?”

He wasn’t going to let it go. That much was obvious. You wished he would, but he was a dog with a bone when he set his mind to something. Your stomach turned with nerves and anxiety, and you felt absolutely foolish facing him in your ratty mismatched pajamas. You backed up and leaned against the kitchen counter, bracing your hands on the smooth granite. Maybe you could play it cool? “I’m surprised you noticed.”

“Do not be childish,” he snapped. “It’s beneath you.”

“Well, that new recruit has been beneath you!”

As soon as the words were out of your mouth you wanted to take them back, grab them from the air and shove them down your throat before your filterless mouth got any more bright ideas. But it happened, so you set your jaw, glaring up at him.

The mixture of emotions warring across his face was difficult to decipher: rage, disbelief, shock, indignation. He closed the distance between you in two long strides, crowding you against the counter. “Is that what your immature behavior has been about? That simpering girl?”

You poked your finger into his chest as hard as you could, secretly pleased when it made him sway back on his heels a bit. “No, not ’that simpering girl’. You, asshole. You preening as she drapes herself over you, basically fucking you with her eyes. It’s disgusting!”

“Is it so damnable or distasteful that I would welcome the attentions of a beautiful woman?” He looked truly hurt at the question, the furrow of his brow contrasting the flare of his nostrils.

“No, but it shouldn’t be her!” you shouted, beyond caring if anyone heard you. You pushed at his chest with all of your strength, sending him back a step so that you could finally breathe. All of the hurt, the pain and anger you’d suppressed recently spilled out of you like a burst dam. “It should be me! You should be looking at me like that. I’m the one who has always been there for you, and she strolled in and just took you away from me before I even had a chance.”

“I am not yours,” he growled, fists flexing at his sides. “Why would you assume that claim over me?”

“Because I love you, you idiot,” you blurted out, much quieter than you had expected, but still loaded with frustration. Your eyes widened at the unplanned admission.

“That is quite foolish of you.”

You couldn’t read the emotion beneath his rich baritone, and he had managed to wipe his face of all expression. A humorless chuckle escaped you. “Yeah, well, I never said I was smart. Brawn over brains, and all that jazz.”

“Jealousy is appealing on you, little one,” he purred in that deep, velvet voice layered with sin that made heat pool between your thighs.

The shift in his tone was so shocking that it took a moment for you to get your bearings. When you’d recovered from the whiplash, you set your lips into a thin frown and huffed, “I’m not jealous.” You sounded like an indignant child again, but you couldn’t help it. He was mocking you.

His hands grasped your biceps, lifting you onto the counter in a smooth, controlled show of strength that made your breath catch in your throat. This new vantage point put your face on an even level with his as he stepped in between your spread knees.

You had never been more frustrated and grateful for ratty pajama bottoms and thin black sweatpants in all your days.

“You are.” He splayed one hand over your hip, pulling your bodies together so that you could feel the hardening length of his arousal pinned between your bodies.

Oh. You hooked your ankles behind his thighs, holding him against you. Your hands spread out over his chest, appreciating the flex of his lean muscles as you dragged them up to wrap around his neck. Might as well run with whatever was going on before he changed his mind. “Give me a reason not to be?”

You barely caught his wicked smile before he crashed his mouth into yours, the kiss rough and sloppy with clashing teeth and tangling tongues and nipped lips. His free hand cupped your breast through your top, tweaking the hardened peak of your nipple to send electric shocks to your throbbing core. You tugged on the ends of his hair to make him groan into your mouth and his hips buck into you, coaxing your excited gasp into his mouth.

In a flurry of grabbing hands and ripped fabric, you were both naked from the waist down. His hands held your thighs open as he slid the full length of his erection into you, stretching you and splitting you in two from the inside out.

“Norns, you’re exquisite,” he sighed reverently, resting his forehead against yours, just holding himself inside of your clenching heat.

Your hands clutched at his shoulders, clinging on for dear life as you grew accustomed to him. You flushed with pleasure at his praise, leaning forward to leave a soft, gentle kiss on his lips.

“And you’re not moving,” you answered cheekily, squeezing around him in the same motion as your ankles pressing into his backside.

He dropped his forehead onto your shoulder, thrusting into you in a slow and sensual rhythm that allowed you to feel each and every ridge of his cock. His hand on your breast dropped to your lower belly so his thumb could just press into the pulsing pearl at the top of your sex.

You couldn’t remember how to breathe, couldn’t remember anything. He had burrowed inside of you and erased anything that wasn’t him, wasn’t the masculine scent of his cologne or the salt of his skin as you nibbled on his earlobe. You didn’t know any other sound but your name leaving his throat in a stuttered groan as his hips snapped against you at a punishing pace.

And when he finally surrendered to his orgasm with his mouth closed over your hammering pulse point on your neck, you followed immediately after at the insistent rub of the calloused pad of his thumb. You latched onto him like he was the only thing tethering you to this Earth, trusting him to hold you as you rode the waves of electric pleasure that spasmed in your tired muscles and flashed white behind your closed eyelids.

“C’mon guys, we have to eat in here!”

Loki’s arms wrapped around your back, and a blanket - presumably from his pocket dimension - was tucked around your shoulders to preserve your modesty and hide where you were still joined together. You nuzzled into his embrace, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. You were still basking in the pleasant afterglow, and you didn’t want to face the world - or Tony - yet.

“Walk away, Stark,” he growled, his dangerous voice vibrating through you where his cheek pressed against yours. “You too.”

At his address to a second person, you lifted your head, unable to stop the smug smile tugging on your bruised lips as you looked over your shoulder. That brazen idiot that had been throwing herself at Loki was staring at you both with her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, dumbfounded. You shouldn’t have taken as much pleasure in her shocked expression as you did, but you’d never claimed to be a saint.

“Yes, walk away,” you echoed haughtily. You very visibly drew your hand from around Loki’s back to disappear beneath the blanket, teasing at the cut muscle of his hip, staking your claim on the man still buried within you.

They both stormed off in different directions, allowing you to turn your attention back to Loki.

He beamed with pride down at you. “Minx.”

“But I’m your minx.”

He lifted you off of the counter, holding his hands beneath your backside as he carried you off in the direction of his rooms. “You are, and I must guarantee that the entire tower is made aware of that fact.”

Who were you to tell him otherwise?

***

Little Bit o’ Loki Taglist: @myownviperroom @grahoundart @darealbellabelleoftheball @boubouinscarlet @iamverity

Whole Shebang Taglist: @just-the-hiddles @yespolkadotkitty @nonsensicalobsessions @vodka-and-some-sass @he-is-chaotic-she-is-psychotic @myoxisbroken @blah666 @brokenthelovely @myworddump @polireader @wiczer @littleredstarfish @the-broken-angel-13 @arch-venus25 @xxloki81xx @jessiejunebug @tinchentitri @sllooney @devilbat @vikkleinpaul @bouquet-o-undercaffeinated-roses @angelus80 @wolfsmom1 @kthemarsian @toozmanykids @claritastantrum

#loki fanfic #loki x reader #loki/reader #loki #loki smut #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #loki friggason #marvel fanfic #hopeless750celebration #hopelesswrites #brawn over brains

592 notes · View notes

blankdblank · 4 years

Text

Brother Dearest Pt 26

Six notepads full of notes with a stack of typed notes for the subjects were bound up with ample notes you had taken from the countless textbooks you had powered through the week before to try and keep up with the advanced math course you weren’t certain of how you would fare. Trying to over prep so that maybe your Professor might take you seriously, even going so far as to pick up even more advanced math form textbooks from a trunk upstairs that Victor had found for you. Catching onto your doubts the brothers sat up with you on your sleepless nights guiding you through the process of the equations and formulas that in their rainy and winter seasons at home they mastered on their own.

Self taught in so many of their own subjects and languages, taking great pride at how hard you were working. Not a month past having to deal with your first voting season back home being abruptly cut short as a technicality barred unwed women to vote and even with James named as your fiancé and Eddie as former guardian you were turned away. One low blow after another, refused the vote you dealt with a man you nearly hurled off your front stoop demanding to meet the owner of the house wanting to sell something. An hour he spent on the stoop after you slammed the door in his face and neighbors told him that the men were inside and they weren’t going to speak to him after he’d made you angry.

So around you they sat wishing they could do more other than say they would take you to vote the hell out of the next year. Even just small matters of schools and town hall meetings you were silenced until you were married with certain common items in shops refused to women as well and no doubt would have to scrape for any fair chance in the male dominated courses. Sleeplessly however between Victor’s readying of the roast to slowly cook on low you changed to head to Mass. Eagerly the Father hoped that supper would come sooner as he had been boasting on the exclusive invite.

Using a diagram from a book you lined up the table luring smirks from Eddie and James who peeked in at you. Dawn strolled in with a vase in one hand she settled in the center of the table with a selection of short purple and orange flowers from the bushes out back she fluffed up a bit saying, “Best I could do.”

Smiling at her you said, “They’re lovely.”

Looking you over she said, “Up for some liquid courage?”

Shaking your head you said, “With my metal control alcohol and pain medicines wear off within moments in my bloodstream.”

“Oh,”

“Feel free to have a nip if you like.”

Curiously she asked as Victor and James came to set rolls on the table with butter and the salt and pepper shakers, “What else can you two do?” They smirked looking at her adding, “I know what they can do, to a degree. People in town said you were, a bit, odd, but they never clarified. And you can talk to animals and trees…”

Victor said, “Well, we have healing abilities, like hers but without the metal. On top of the talking my nails grow and Jimmy has bone claws.”

Dawn asked, “Bone-?”

James made a fist with his claws extending drawing her closer and accepting his offer to poke at his claws with clear flecks of iron imbedded in them. “They used to be all bone but Jaqi found a way to leech iron from our blood into our bones to make them stronger. Used to be so easy to break our bones when we fought.”

She looked to Victor who said, “Oh, we’re also really strong and really fast compared to others. Much easier with the iron bones, and since it’s our own iron our bodies created our bodies don’t try to get rid of it.” Releasing his hand she moved to Victor who extended his nails making her brow inch up and him chuckle, “I know, not as impressive, but if I grow them long enough I can snap them off and throw them really far.”

Loud and clear the doorbell rang and Eddie said, “I’ll get it.” Watching as Victor retracted his claws and Dawn went to help you finish readying the tea set.

Dawn patted your hand saying, “You’ll do lovely.” Teddy began to fuss in his playpen and she hurried over, “Oh, does someone need a changing?”

Nipping at your lip you hovered the tea tray into the tea room and centered it onto the table adjusting the tea cups before straightening up and brushing your hands over your skirt. Behind you James came up untying your apron planting a kiss onto your cheek, whispering to you sweetly, “I love you, breathe Darling.”

Steps echoed and a quick kiss was stolen in a glance back at him before his winking step back to put your apron up in the kitchen. Victor came out content that the food was staying warm in the oven for the drinks before dinner. Warm greetings came after a quick tour of the main floor including the library earning a whistle from the impressed Priest. Into the tea room he strode smiling taking in the details and looked to you ask you asked, “Would you care for some tea?”

Father Thomas replied, “No, however I would take a nip of brandy, if you have it.”

Eddie flashed you a wink hurrying to the bar having stocked it and broke out the glasses, of which he poured himself a bourbon and a gin for Victor. Dawn smiled returning with Teddy on her hip to sit beside Eddie who took his son to cuddle with on his lap granting her hold of the tea you poured out for her. James hummed as the Father sampled his brandy, “I’ll take a cup, Darling.” Smiling at you lovingly as you poured it making sure to brush your fingers in accepting it. Your tea was next and after adding a pair of sugar cubes to your tea you gracefully held stepping to your seat beside James once lowered into signaled the crossing of your ankles tilting your knees to lay against is thigh. A single sip however had your mind tapping James’ to ask, “How is the tea?”

James, “Not bad. Fairly strong.”

“I think it needs something.”

“Perhaps honey?”

“Honey is so expensive here. The sugar was absurd enough.”

“I will write to Dot back home for some of her uncle’s honey.”

Pleasant conversation lasted through to the bottom of your cups signaling your move to the dining room where Father Thomas accepted a glass of milk from Dawn to go with the meal you helped Victor and James bring to the table. “Bunny and Dawn, you have outdone yourselves, truly.”

Subtle shakes of heads at Victor and James had you both smiling at him in return while you poured yourself some milk as well after bringing James his juice he had asked for. Eddie kept his bourbon to sip on and Dawn fed Teddy in his high chair. Pleasantly the meal continued, pausing for Dawn to take Teddy to sleep in his nursery, rejoining in time for some pie that you skipped on, helped by Eddie to clear the table and brew up some more tea for yourself and James. Victor finishing his own second slice of pie watched as you came back to share a bowl of ice cream with James to go with the one you brought Dawn.

Dinner had come early leaving tons of time for cards, which downstairs Victor and James lit up cigars while the Priest indulged on his weekly cigarette to a cup of coffee he had asked for that you gladly filled his formerly ignored teacup with. Their game came in your friendly match against Dawn in pool while Eddie played Dealer to the card game. A subtle glance to the window in the back yard helped you ease open the window to air out the basement aided by a fan in the corner you kept spinning without having to turn it on. The ventilation pleasing Dawn as well, who you shared hushed giggles and conversation with in French about the guys and their moneyless chipped game to simply help the Priest keep track of who had won each round. The phone ringing upstairs had you going up to answer the call sending you back down to lock eyes with the Priest whose brows were raised, “Father, that was Dennis Tilby on the line, his dad’s taken a turn.”

Instantly he popped up saying, “Right, well, thank you for the lovely time.”

Putting his cigarette out in the ash tray beside him nodding his head to Victor and Eddie as James said, “I’ll show you up.”

Passing you Father Thomas said with a pat of a hand on your arm, “You have worked wonders on this place. Haven’t had a home cooked meal like that in a good while, quite a kindness.” He patted Dawn’s as well adding, “Should last me well through the night and into the morrow.”

Exhaling sharply when he was out of sight you sat down on a stool against the wall making Victor smirk gathering the cups he downed and stacked to carry along with the put out cigars and cigarette saying, “I’ll put the ash tray outside. You did wonderful.”

Lifting your hands you tried to take the cups he eased out of your reach, “I’ll-,”

“Take a load off. Quite a meal.” Your head tilted and he smiled wider, “I don’t want credit. Women like you can cook like that, that’s something, we know how to cook like that and aren’t pro’s, just sad. I would rather be the man behind the curtain Miss Oz.” he passed you two and went upstairs while you sat stealing a glance at Dawn who was racking up the balls again for the next person who would play.

Rapidly the fan you hovered around the room cleared the smoke out amusing Dawn who put up the cards and chips then joined you when you had set the fan down and closed the window again. Together you went up the steps shutting the lights off as you did finding James on his way from locking up the front doors. “That went swimmingly.” Once at your side he lifted you up in his arms, “And you, my Darling, off your feet.”

Victor, out of the kitchen said, “Cups are rinsed, plates too, and the dishes are soaking so you guys go to bed.”

Dawn, “You cooked.”

Victor said, “And I clean as well. Eddie’s got work early and he needs you, Olive and Pepper are outside handling their business so I have some time. Jimmy, off to bed.”

The younger brother chuckled obliging the order to take you upstairs, help you wash up, change and lay out for another of his snuggle followed full body rub downs. Victor grinned returning your finger wave on the path to the stairs truly glad he helped blow your first dinner guest away hopefully helping to boost your confidence at being a hostess in your own home for future guests.

“You’re both absurd.” You said in a nightgown on the bed while he rubbed your feet looking to you adoringly. “Making dinner, giving us credit, then he washes up alone.”

James, “We love you, you hosted marvelously.”

“There was something about the tea.”

“It was great tea, might just be the sugar, you haven’t tried it with regular sugar. I’ll fetch some tomorrow and we can test it out.”

You sighed saying, “It shouldn’t be this hard. Just tea.”

He chuckled again, “Sugar was rationed, right? Through the war and before?” You nodded and he said, “Could just be an old batch, or could be a stronger grain in the cubes to make it stick, or some syrup. Trust me, you have un-cubed sugar no one will fault you for it. The service alone you gave was perfect, you will find your groove for it, and when you are at school all day and hosting dinner parties to a meal like that we’ve prepped for you no one could hold a candle to you.”

“But, that’s cheating.”

He chuckled, “You really think any of those hoity toity ladies who thumbed their noses up at Portia doesn’t have a maid or cook at home to prep their meals for them? Moving up takes impressions and impressions take team work. You helped serve and clear the tea, serve the dinner it’s only fair me and Vic clear up after you had to air out the basement. We can cut back if it bothers you.”

You shook your head, “I don’t mind you smoking, I just don’t want it lingering, ruins wallpaper. We just put it up.”

He chuckled saying, “I get that. And we will keep it away from Teddy, Squishy’s genes or not, smoky room is no place for a baby.”

“Thank you. Nobody says anything but I’ve read up about lungs, Steve had asthma, I thought maybe I could find something someday to help him. I got tangled up in reading about house fires and smoke inhalation and tobacco isn’t that different when inhaled. It has to do something. Our lungs heal, or I might push you to quit-,”

“If it makes you uncomfortable I will.” Your lips parted and he said, “Think on it, if you want me to, I will, and we will ban smoking from the house.”

“You give me too much power sometimes.”

That had him smirking and humming back, “Nowhere close to enough, Darling.”

“Do I have anything I do you want me to stop?”

“Not a thing.” He wet his lips moving his hands to over your ankle asking, “Though Vic was wondering why you didn’t want any of the pie?”

“I think it was the tea, or the sugar. Something about it mixed with the sauce, which was amazing, but when I smelled the pie I just knew it would taste bitter when I ate it.”

Lowly he chuckled and said, “Good, then I can calm him down saying you will have some at lunch.”

In a giggle you replied, “I didn’t mean to upset him.”

“You didn’t. Just was worried you might have been overly anxious about our guest enjoying himself.” He looked you over, “We’ll find your stride.”

You nodded and said, “What sort of college starts on a Tuesday?”

He chuckled saying, “The sort that doesn’t know what’s coming for it.”

A knock at your door announced Victor’s peek through it to ask, “Up for guests?”

James nodded, “Didn’t think it’d take you this long to show up.”

Behind his back he held something wrapped up crossing the room making you say, “I knew you couldn’t resist hiding something from me.”

The pair of them smirked at you playfully and Victor said once seated by James on the bed, “Not much flair to offer for students, we were left to belts in our day. However we are not sending you out Pipsqueak with a belt.” Onto your lap he set the box you smirked as he said, “Not the flashiest, but it’s one of a kind.”

Pulling back the wrapping paper you lifted the top of the box and smiled at the carpet bag styled purse with a red based pattern and leather accents and handles at the top. James, “More of a purse but you can fit your notepads in it, maybe a book or two so you won’t lose your loose papers.”

“Come here,” you said setting it down making them smile as Victor came closer accepting your first tight sniffle filled hug. “You didn’t have to do this, you’ve spent so much on me already.”

James, “Says who?” You pulled back in his own scoot forward setting your leg down again to fold you into a tight hug, “Not nearly enough, Darling. You deserve so much more.”

Victor, “And you just watch those ladies show up with carpet bags in a week. All hideous and out of fashion no doubt compared to yours. No one compares.”

James planted a kiss on your lips sweetly and pulled back to rub your leg again, “We’re all here for you, Darling. Anything you need let us know.”

“What about what you two need?”

Victor, “We need you to succeed.”

James, “And be safe and happy.”

“You two still need something.”

James, “You’re already giving us everything we could ever want.”

A short sleeved peach blouse tucked into a black skirt was joined by your black heels and a cardigan you added on your way out of the kitchen. Eddie also was on his way out and James joined Victor in pecking Teddy’s forehead around where you had mid hug to Dawn who wished you luck. James had your bag and Victor said, “Deep breath, let’s get you to school.” Out the front door you walked petting Whiskers, Olive and Pepper on the way, each of them curious about why today seemed different than other times you had left. The doors were shut behind you and down the steps you found your way to the station.

From bustling train car and out of the station two hands remained on your back keeping other men stealing glances your way far away from trying to approach you. Even on the third time out there the ride seemed so familiar already, just half an hour still you took the ride to relax exiting in the sun rising. Not far from there the school was surrounded already by lines of students heading for the big opening. With a peck on your cheek James said outside the front gates, “We’ll be here to walk you back.”

“You are not walking around all day.”

Victor chuckled, “We have plans. To keep busy, promise.” With a nod you stepped out to pass through the gates joining the others on foot, those mainly men while the females rode in lines of cars with bikes no doubt to keep them mobile on the campus from their dorms. The brothers watching on until you were out of sight sighed and turned to head back again planning on taking Olive and Pepper for a walk to the nearest park.

Curious glances your way in breaking off came at a quickening of your pace to pass between two stopped cars to the next walkway leading to the main entrance of Barnard. Seeing you walking a few ladies chose to be let out here and walk themselves, mainly those not moving into the dorms choosing to seem more independent as you did. Poised and walking alone one more opening ceremony came for those absurdly early like you, the Professors split allowing you through. Hall after hall each turn found you outside your first class, against the wall you stood waiting with fingers fixed on the handles of your bag. Soft taps echoed announcing your arriving Professor who smiled and unlocked her door allowing you and the trio of young ladies lined up behind you straightening up as well to claim your seats.

Off to the side of the far wall in the final two rows of seating you walked inspecting the few titles on the shelves against the wall and the odd poster every few feet on the wall to claim the second seat in. On top of your lap your bag settled and in crossing your ankles one of your notepads and a pen was added to the desk along with the textbook for this class out of the few books not able to fit in your bag left on the side of your desk. Steadily more students began to trickle in and elegantly in cursive across the board the Professor wrote her name and the title of her first lesson.

Right away she delved her opening speech saying, “Welcome Ladies, to the start of your higher education. For the first task,” she held a stack of papers and passed it to the woman in front of you, “Take one of these and pass it back,” doing the same in each row, “This is a contract, of basic requirements for this class. Weekly there will be a quiz, bi-weekly there will be a paper due. Between those there will be expected visits to museums that I would like you to take full advantage of and pay attention because there will be a paper due on the exhibit you choose as well, I will be expecting ticket stubs to prove that you have gone with your papers.” Following along on the page she said, “You are allowed two absences in my course before I start reducing points on each test and quiz after your third absence. I expect a B average, if you dip below a B then you are granted one test to try and lift your grade up before I will remove you from my course myself. This is just one semester Ladies, rise to the challenge or have yourself traded to Miss Margen’s course which is far less stringent.”

For a history course it was rather strict and you couldn’t help but smirk internally in listening to the list go on with details of what heading she expected on each paper that you copied down in your notes. Following the lesson along when she actually began the start of her year, unknown to you while you continued to focus on your notes her eyes kept shifting to you, the only woman to not look up except for when she wrote on the board. It was an old habit to focus on the work and not draw attention to yourself like you did back in high school. Already having asked four other students questions that turned into mini debates crumbling as they couldn’t give her the book proof she was expecting.

“You, second seat back, your opinions on the gold rush?” Her eyes fixed on yours when you glanced up had her looking you over as you shifted your pen between your fingers.

“In what aspect? The travel, those who took it up, the effects on the spread of cities West and South, or the changes to clothing and social standards shifting from Colonial to a Rural environment. Unless you mean the effects of medicine limitations and the effects it had on the lives and funeral industry until the railroad was settled and granted a modicum of ease in stabilizing town populations?” Her brow inched up and you said, “Economically it was a risk, but fools who dream big change the world. Case in point there is hardly any patch of land in this country that hasn’t been explored or attempted to have been settled in. Even if the territory is eventually found inhospitable to human life. In full the Gold Rush sparked a rise in several aspects, both positive and those increasing in less noble topics.”

“Such as?”

“Crime, for one, and the beginning of the discovery of the profiteering of the funeral business.”

In a scoff she asked, “And just what experience would you have of the profiteering of the funeral business?”

Looking at her flatly you replied, “I buried both of my parents before I was thirteen,” her smirk dimmed as you added, “Then I lost my brother in the war. Every cent my mother had saved up went to paying off her funeral and we still owed hundreds. My brother was buried easier because the military paid for it. You shouldn’t have to go down in a plane to not bankrupt your family who wants to lay you to rest.”

Clearing her throat she got back to the lesson while you glanced down again to delve back into taking notes ignoring what you knew to be pitying stares had you glanced around to the other ladies trying to remain calm at their own open wounds of those lost in the war. Right back to the same pattern of calling students out the lesson continued and you were nearly forgotten when class was called and you all stood to head to your next class. One by one you passed her the signed contracts and with a soft grin from you she accepted yours, stealing a glance in your turn away to read your signature at the bottom parting her lips recognizing your name. Hushed comments of support came from your fellow students in the hall who split heading to their own classes while you hurried to get there to have a choice on your seat.

Italian came next and near to the front you sat across the hall from your Latin class. The middle aged Professor straightening a pin in her nest of a bun littered with hints of grey matching the color of her dress and shoes flashed you a grin watching you sit in the second row along the wall then turned to erase part of what was written on the board. Not quite as strict, but no less dedicated to ensuring each student gave their all gave the instruction that for the second semester there would be no speaking in English at all.

A sentiment copied by the Latin Professor in the class right after this one who seemed to enjoy getting to be friendly with his students right away. “Miss Pear, I was intrigued to hear you were taking my course. Might I ask why?”

Looking up from your notes you had copied from a rule in pronunciation he had given you caught his grin tugging wider as you answered, “One of the last books my Dad gave me was a dictionary on Latin. My high school didn’t allow females in their Latin course.”

“And what a shame that is,” he said turning to his board to write another tip out. “One of the main things you have to know is that we won’t just be learning how to read and write it but how to speak it, how to breathe some life into what some deem a dead language.” All class he tried to build up some passion in each of his students and by his challenging grin it seemed you were added to the list of students harder to break out of their focused shell.

Pt 27

#James Howlett x Reader OC #Victor Creed #Venom #Eddie Brock x OC #Dinner with Father Thomas #First Day of School Pt 1

8 notes · View notes

writethehousedown · 4 years

Text

Steady by your side, keep me in the light (Jaida x Nicky)

A/N: Jaida and Nicky hold eachother up through the worse of senior year

Nicky was not stupid. Jaida knew that, their friends knew that, and, at a rational level, Nicky herself knew that too. It was just their teachers who seemed to disagree.

Since moving to the States, she had been struggling with most subjects. Studying in her second language took her twice as long and left her exhausted, and sometimes she gave up halfway through the unit and researched the topic in online French textbooks, hoping they covered everything her teachers would ask from her. Her grades had taken a nosedive and her current GPA was barely hanging above the 3.63 required by her first choice college.

Jaida did her best to help her, but between basketball practice, her internship and her own load of high school work, they barely had enough time for two study dates a week. Nevermind actual dates. Senior year was riding them hard and there was no break in sight. On the rare moments of peace (about five minutes long each), Jaida daydreamed about the summer she would spend with her girlfriend. Two months of getting drunk with their friends and laying next to the pool without moving a muscle to recover from the mental wreckage of senior year, before everyone packed up their whole lives and moved away.

But first, they had finals to pass.

Jaida sat on her bedroom desk, with her laptop open to a new document and a copy of The Old Man and the Sea, which she was coloring with annotated post-its. Every couple of minutes, she glanced at her phone. Nicky was supposed to have joined her half an hour ago, and she hadn’t even texted. Jaida forced herself not to worry; she knew Nicky had stayed after class to talk to her civics teacher about an assignment for extra credit.

If she doesn’t show signs of life in the next fifteen minutes, I’m calling her.

She didn’t have to, because just a few minutes later, she heard the front door opening and the voices of her mom and her girlfriend talking, followed by steps approaching her room.

The door flew open and Nicky dragged her feet to the bed, where she flopped face down. Jaida watched her dramatics, amused.

“Sooo, how did it go?”

“Hmhht mhmhnt,” said Nicky, face buried into the mattress.

“Come again? Maybe lift your head.”

“I got the assignment.”

“Why so down, then?”

Nicky rolled onto her back and faced her girlfriend. “He wants me to write about threats to democracy, which sounds extremely depressing. And we’re both getting fashion bachelors! Why do we need to understand gerrymandering?”

“Because we live in Missouri. Why did you even take AP government?”

“I freaked out about the GPA, because I’m dumb.”

Jaida raised an eyebrow at her. “Nicolette.”

Nicky closed her eyes and breathed out.

“I’m not dumb. I’m smart. I’m just stressed, and that’s okay.”

Jaida’s expression softened as she walked towards the bed. “That’s better,” she praised, sitting next to her. “Let’s get the lit essay over with, then I’ll help you with civics.”

Nicky sat up and collapsed against Jaida. “D’accord. Hemingway can suck a dick, though.”

Jaida smiled and pressed her lips against Nicky’s temple. “On that, we can agree.”

____________________________________________________

Two thousand words each and a coffee break later, the girls sat on the bed, facing the laptop.

“You misspelled ‘onomatopoeia’, here,” said Jaida, pointing at the screen. Nicky leaned forward to fix it.

backspace backspace backspace

“You also used ‘allusion’ instead of ‘allegory’.”

Nicky frowned.

“Allusions describe ideas through characters and storylines, no?”

“No, that’s allegories. Allusions are just references to important people or events.”

backspace backspace backspace

“And you listed foreshadowing under figures of speech, but it isn’t.”

“Why did I… oh,” said Nicky, closing her fists and rubbing her eyes. “It’s préfiguration in French. I got confused. I hate this fucking language.”

Nicky fell onto Jaida and buried her face on her neck. Jaida started playing with Nicky’s hair with one hand and kept marking the essay with the other. She corrected one, two, three misspellings before she felt kisses along her neck clouding her judgement.

“Baby, focus, come on,” she said, jolting her shoulder. Nicky persisted.

“Nooo. You’re much more interesting than Hemingway.”

“Girl, the bar is so low…”

“Five minute break?” asked Nicky, and grazed Jaida’s skin with her teeth.

That was a step too far, because Jaida pulled away and grabbed Nicky’s face in her hands.

“Nicolette. Behave.”

Nicky huffed and fell face down on the bed, screaming into the pillow. Jaida rolled her eyes and poked her side.

“Get up, drama club. We’re not done.” Jaida slapped Nicky’s thigh, expecting her to sit up and retaliate.

Instead, Jaida noticed, her back started shaking.

“Nicks?” she said, laying down next to her.

The only response was a sob.

“Oh, baby, no, come here…” Jaida pulled Nicky close, until she could press kisses all over her face.

They stayed like that, with Jaida rubbing circles on Nicky’s back, until the sobs subsided and Nicky could speak again.

“I’m sorry, I know I’m acting like a brat,” she said, wiping her eyes forcefully.

“You’re not a brat, you’re a senior in finals,” said Jaida, kissing her hairline. “I cried in the gym showers twice this week; you’re doing just fine. What’s going on?”

“I’m scared about this class. It took me forever to read that stupid book, I even had to read a summary in French because I kept getting lost. And I still have to memorize the forty fucking words there are to say ‘metaphor’ and I’m already getting a headache.”

Jaida laughed and rolled onto her back, dragging Nicky with her.

“There’s only five, we’ll go over them later.” Nicky hummed in agreement and settled on her girlfriend’s chest.

A few moments later, she broke the silence.

“So… why were you crying?”

Nicky felt Jaida’s breathing stutter under her cheek. She ran her nails between Jaida’s clavicles and waited.

Jadia took a moment to answer.

“Bio’s kicking my ass,” she sighed. “Mrs. Jensen’s been lenient, but…” she trailed off, shaking her head. “She’s not gonna bump up my grade just ‘cause I ask her. I either do well in the final, or I kiss you and our college goodbye.”

Nicky propped herself up and looked at Jaida, who wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“What did you say?”

Jaida stared at the wall and shrugged dismissively.

“We never discussed long-distance. All of our plans assume we’ll be living on the same campus, but if I don’t get in and you do, I don’t- I’m not sure what that’s gonna look like.”

Jaida feels Nicky’s hand on her cheek, tilting her face forward.

“First of all, I’ve seen your grades. You just need an eight. You’re getting an eight, Jaida, it’s you. And second of all,” she dropped ‘till their noses were touching, “it’s cute how you think that long distance is enough to get rid of me,” Nicky said, poking her tongue out and licking Jaida’s lips.

Jaida grinned, big and toothy, and pushed Nicky off. Her girlfriend fell on her back, laughing.

“Fuck off, I’m trying to open up, bitch.”

Nicky took her hand and smiled at her “I know. I love you.” She turned to face her. “I’m going to be serious, now.”

“Oh, no…”

Nicky lightly bumped Jaida’s chin with her knuckles. “Whatever the next years will look like, here, in Missouri, in fucking Antartica, I don’t see a life without you in it. I love my family, and our friends, but you’re the person who’s made these past years bearable.”

Jaida smiled and squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to get emotional at the memory of little fifteen-year-old Nicky. Jaida had seen her all lonely and lost that first week of class and sauntered into her life, and they just hadn’t parted ways since.

“Remember when you first moved here? You were so quiet and shy, it was adorable. Now I can never get you to shut up.”

“You have your methods,” Nicky smirked. “Speaking of which…”

“We’re not done with your essay, Nicks.”

Nicky pouted and put on her best puppy eyes. Jaida could feel her resolve slipping.

“Don’t give me those eyes, that’s not fair…”

Nicky leaned in to kiss Jaida’s nose, her cheek, the corner of her mouth.

“Break now?”

Jaida moved on top of Nicky and kissed her back, slow and sweet.

“You get ten minutes.”

“Fine by me.”

#rpdr fanfiction #jaida essence hall/nicky doll #jaida essence hall #nicky doll #steady by your side keep me in the light #mar #lesbian au #high school au #fluff #concrit welcome #back to school 2020 #day 7: memorize #submission

9 notes · View notes

ohblackdiamond · 4 years

Text

little t&a (paul/gene, nc-17) (part 6 of 29)

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 9 part 10 part 11 part 12 part 13 part 14 part 15 part 16 part 17 part 18 part 19 part 20 part 21 part 22 part 23 part 24 part 25 part 26 part 27 part 28 part 29

Four weeks before KISS gets back on tour, Gene discovers that Paul’s been cursed by a groupie. For the sake of KISS’ finances, Paul’s comfort levels, and Gene’s libido, this crisis must be resolved. Sexswap fic. In this chapter: Gene and Paul go to the legendary punk dump CBGB in search of the groupie.

Paul and Gene didn’t talk much for a long time after Peter left. Just sat in the living room half-watching T.V. Gene ordered a pizza about three or four hours later. Paul ate a single piece, drank two Tabs, then tried to head back to his room like a forlorn kid.

“Hey,” Gene said, taking his arm as he got up to leave.

“Gene, he didn’t know me. I’ve known him for five years and he didn’t have a clue.”

“You couldn’t have expected him to.” Gene swallowed. “He was trying to stick up for you.”

“I didn’t think he cared that much.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I’m serious.”

“Paul…” Gene stared, shaking his head. “Paul, you two used to talk every damn night. It was obnoxious. You were like teenage girls.”

Paul snorted.

“Yeah, and I was the frontman of KISS, too, but look how that turned out.”

“You’re still the frontman,” Gene rattled out, irritably. “What’s with you? Did you really think Peter didn’t give a shit about you?”

“Right now, I wish he didn’t. He’s gonna be looking for me all over town.” Paul took a deep breath. “I blew it. I dunno why I even tried to tell him.”

“If we can get this reversed quickly enough, it won’t matter.”

“It will. Peter’ll be all hacked off and telling me about how my girlfriend was cheating, then I’ll have to figure out some lie—blow him off—”

“Don’t worry about that right now.”

“I’m tired of blowing Peter off. I can’t keep this up. If I run into anybody else I know while I’m like this, I’m gonna screw up.”

“Paul—”

“I won’t do it on purpose. But I’ll do it. And maybe nobody’ll figure out who I am, but they’ll know something’s wrong. And—”

“We’ll get you fixed before that’s an issue. I’ll—shit, I don’t know. I’ll make up an excuse for Peter.” What he could possibly tell him, well, Gene had no idea. With any luck in the world, Peter would get a few lines in him and forget all about this afternoon. With any luck. Right. “We might as well get ready for the club. You still want to go, right?”

Despite himself, Gene didn’t think Paul looked like he was in the shape to go. He had that steeled-up look about him that Gene had seen before, after phone conversations with newly-minted exes and conniving execs and, sometimes, after talking to his parents. He’d keep going, after, but it’d be bitterly. And bitterly was not how he wanted Paul approaching the nightclub. Especially not in the form he was in right now.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been like this for six days. I don’t want it to be seven.”

“Paul, are you—”

“I’m sure. I’m positive. Aren’t you?” Paul’s mouth twitched, as though he were about to say something else, then his lips pursed and he turned on his heel. He didn’t slam the door into his bedroom, but Gene could hear the sound of him locking it. It stung.

Gene changed clothes in the guest bedroom. He hadn’t tried too hard at the punk bit himself, and he knew he wasn’t convincing in just a leather jacket and a black tee, and a pair of plaid pants. Nearly half his purchases. Hopefully, the rest wouldn’t see the light of day. Paul’s guest bedroom was furnished with a weird scattering of Paul’s stuff—on the nightstand were a few notepads filled with his standard dick drawings and caricatures, and the mirrored dresser was loaded with tour knickknacks. Gene picked up a small rag doll some fan had made of Paul in full Starchild regalia, finding tubes of mascara and eyeliner underneath where the doll had lain.

Punk had started from glam, right? Might as well put on the eyeliner, at least. Paul could keep the mascara. Once Gene was satisfied, he stepped out and headed back to the living room, turning on the T.V. again while he waited. Fifteen minutes. Twenty minutes, and then Paul finally came out of the bedroom.

He’d teased his curls mercilessly, to the point they probably added back some of the height he’d lost, and the stiff smell of Aquanet emanated off of him. Red lipstick, eyeliner, faint patters of blush, just enough to make his high cheekbones stand out. The jean shorts and fishnets showed off his long legs to much greater effect than the dresses from earlier. He was finally wearing a bra, the shirt was tight against his chest, the fabric straining. Shit. Shit. If Paul didn’t still have a bit of that tense look from earlier, Gene would’ve complimented him. Would’ve teased him. Might have even been tempted to say he was beautiful. Instead, he just stared.

“Are you ready?” Paul asked tersely.

“Yeah.”

Once they got in the car, Paul turned on the radio, which surprised Gene. He hoped nothing of theirs would come on. Manfred Mann started up as Paul turned up the volume—that guy was like a groundhog, poking back in with another hit nearly ten years after his last—and Paul was tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. He’d painted his nails, too, Gene noticed, the black lacquer reminding him suddenly of vinyl. Paul was half-humming, half-singing along under his breath, getting half the rhymes wrong. There’d always been a certain unevenness to his voice that hadn’t helped him, especially as the songs he wrote relied more and more heavily on screamingly high notes. But right now, Gene could tell Paul could hit those notes easily, if he’d let himself.

He wanted to tell him, stupidly, that he could still sing. He could still play guitar. But Gene stopped himself. Telling him that would be crappy. It would be like telling Paul to give up, that it wasn’t worth it to try to find the girl at all. And it would be selfish, too—selfish to Paul, to Peter, to Ace—everybody connected to KISS, even himself. And for what, so he could indulge himself like a teenage boy on a handful of glimpses? Stare at his best friend’s tits? Have a pretty little thing in bed he wasn’t even sleeping with, when he had hundreds of girls willing to give it up for him every night? It was a lousy trade-off. Anyway, he’d never have to consider it again after tonight. Paul would get the curse reversed and it would be done with.

Gene looked over, and realized Paul had gone quiet again, after the Chopsticks solo. Half the song was still left.

“Hey, keep going.”

“What for?”

“I like hearing you.”

“C’mon, Gene, you’ve been hearing me for years, you can’t really—it doesn’t even sound right, like this—”

“You sound just fine.”

“I’d be better singing along to Olivia Newton-John at this point,” Paul mumbled, turning down the volume. “‘Maybe I hang around here a little more than I should…’ God, could you get any cheesier?”

“Face of an angel, heart of a degenerate.”

“Me or her?”

In response, Gene poked a finger against one of Paul’s fishnet-clad thighs. Paul surprised him by not shifting his leg immediately. Just took his right hand off the steering wheel, letting it rest on Gene’s for a few seconds. Then he reached over to change the radio station and the moment dissolved.

It wasn’t long before Paul pulled into a dingy lot not far from CBGB. A drizzle was starting up, the rain droplets like fat stars against the windshield. Paul didn’t bother to turn on the wipers.

“You might wanna park the car somewhere else,” Gene said finally.

The car’s interior was dim, but he could still catch Paul’s fragile grin.

“Is a Spanish Harlem schoolteacher telling me I’m in a bad part of town?”

“I don’t think punks like fancy cars.”

Paul laughed just a little, tossing Gene his own Aviator sunglasses before turning off the engine and getting out. Gene put them on, grabbing Paul by the arm almost as soon as he’d locked up the car. Paul threw him a questioning look, but didn’t argue.

They lined up around the block by the entrance, something Gene wasn’t used to doing. The rain was getting worse, Paul’s frothy curls giving way to pure frizz with every minute they stood out there. Gene’s wasn’t looking any better. The streetlamps and passing cars and buildings were all that lit up the line, but they didn’t seem to have been as far off-base with their outfits as Gene had figured. That, or latecomers like them were wannabes.

“I thought you said this place wasn’t as crowded as Studio 54.”

“It’s not. But I never had to wait outside to get in before. I just told Hilly and the bouncer I was—” Paul stopped short. The guy behind them was listening with interest. Paul leaned in against Gene’s arm abruptly. “Well, it doesn’t matter.”

“Wait, she got into Studio 54?” The guy snorted. “Who’d you have to flash your tits to, huh?”

Paul flinched but didn’t say anything.

“I think you owe my girlfriend an apology,” Gene snapped. He didn’t even think about it; the words splattered out like all the lousy come-ons he’d ever bothered with, forthright and obvious as ever. Beside him, Paul let out a nervous breath.

“Gene, c’mon, it’s fine.”

“It isn’t fine.”

“You’re not getting into a fight over this—”

The guy just rolled his eyes and started to laugh. He was around Gene’s height, but not build. More wiry. Probably drunk.

“You’re right, I’m not,” Gene said, and took off Paul’s sunglasses. The guy was still chuckling for a few seconds, before his eyes widened in hesitant recognition.

“H…hey, you can’t be… you can’t be that Gene…”

As a tight, frozen smile spread its way across Paul’s face, he sunk his elbow square into Gene’s ribcage, just as Gene had been about to demonstrate his tongue. The sharp ache radiated through his side, and he barely managed to keep from doubling over, his slightly-strangled hiss of “what the hell was that for” probably going unheard by Paul. The damage had already been done, anyway. The guy backed off—practically shrunk off, honestly, forfeiting his place in line, but not before screaming—

“It’s Gene Simmons! He’s here!”

It was like Moses had parted the Red Sea, if the Red Sea were comprised of scrubby-looking punks and hangers-on. Every eye was on them. Gene put the sunglasses on, more for the sake of disappointing anyone with a camera than really trying to slip back into hiding. No point now. The crowd shifted, crowded toward them, everyone forgetting their places in line as they craned and crammed in for a better view, tried to run up to him, the words scattering like glitter.

“Is it really you?”

“It’s him, it has to be Gene! Gene, Gene, oh my God, I love you! I love you!”

“Can I have your autograph? I have a pen! I have a napkin, please, I—”

The turmoil lasted five minutes or more, easily. People kept trying to push past Paul, who eventually ended up leaning against Gene, with Gene wrapping an arm around his waist, just to keep from getting trampled. The heel of one of Paul’s boots was on top of his own—digging in unnecessarily hard, Gene thought—for the duration of impromptu autographs and stammered-out praise, occasional begs for a kiss. For once, Gene didn’t go for it. Maybe it was just hard to get in the mood to fool around with Paul grinding his heel into his toes. Maybe it just would’ve been lousy publicity, flirting while he already had a girl he’d brought with him. A couple lousy one-armed hugs were all any of the chicks got. He didn’t have time to really think on it for long, as the crowd started to disperse again, like reluctant scattershot, in the face of someone of higher status. At least, to the club patrons. Hilly Kristal, the owner himself, had come out onto the sidewalk to meet them, with an umbrella and two bouncers in tow.

“I haven’t heard this much noise out here since Paul Simon checked us out.” He stuck out his hand. Gene shook it. Hilly paused for a second, tilting his head, then offered his hand to Paul, too, who took it without a word. “Sorry I didn’t catch you sooner. C’mon back.”

They followed Hilly and the bodyguards to the front entrance of the club. Paul was still simmering.

“You asshole! That was so embarrassing!”

“We skipped the line, didn’t we?”

“I didn’t care about the line! They’ll be all over you now! How could you do that?”

“He hurt you. You’ve had enough of that today.” Gene swallowed, realizing suddenly that despite Paul’s complaining, Paul hadn’t dropped his arm from his waist yet. It was a little unwieldy, but Gene appreciated the brief brushes of Paul’s chest against his side as they walked. He wouldn’t be getting that if Paul was just holding his hand. “And your hair was getting destroyed.”

Paul’s free hand went to his scalp on irritated automatic. Hilly’s umbrella had come too late for him to resemble anything more punk than a waterlogged poodle.

“You don’t look like a Prell commercial yourself,” he retorted. Gene just laughed. One of the bouncers held the door open, and they walked in, instantly encased in the deafening sound of electric guitars and raspy, screaming vocals. Whoever CBGB had headlining tonight had clearly dragged in more than enough amps. The clubgoers, whose attention had probably turned to the front entrance as soon as Hilly and the bodyguards had first walked out, were staring and talking to each other against the din, not approaching them yet. They would soon. Gene was sure of that. Paul must have sensed it, too, from the way his grip on Gene’s waist tightened. “C’mon, Gene, you only let yourself get recognized ’cause you wanted to get laid, right?”

Gene didn’t answer. He didn’t know why he didn’t answer, any more than he knew why Paul kept pulling him in closer while yanking him away verbally. Maybe that wasn’t exclusive to Paul, either. Maybe.

“I don’t think anyone else is going to bother you now,” he sidestepped instead. “Let’s find that groupie.”

#kiss the band #kiss fanfiction #gene simmons #paul stanley #gene simmons x paul stanley

7 notes · View notes

long-bodyswap · 5 years

Text

Ryan & Jason in the Dorm

by Ry

I couldn't believe I was doing this. My heart was pounding. I was completely unable to stop myself from crossing the room. My hands trembled as I reached down and found them. My roomie's boxers! No! I never do things like this I told myself. I dropped them back on his dirty clothes pile. But then I couldn't take my eyes off of them.I remembered back to earlier in the day when I came back from class and found my roommate Jason laying on the floor naked save for this pair of old red boxer shorts. He was in the middle of doing his daily repetitions of sit-ups. A former high school QB, he was still obsessed with his physique and he did at least one thousand sit-ups every day.

I found myself staring at his perfectly chiseled abs, partially obscured by a thick carpet of sweat-soaked hair that also covered his perfect pecs. Then the large bulge in his shorts captured my attention. Fortunately, he took no notice of my gaze as he was grunting through another rep. What's the matter with you, Ryan? I forced myself to avert my eyes and I headed back to my corner of our large dorm room.It was Friday and our other roommates had gone home for the weekend early. I knew that Jason was headed off to a frat function this evening. You know the type I mean. They all put on ties and act professional in a dinner meeting with some other groups to show that fraternities are respectable organizations.

Then they go out and get wasted and try to lure every sorority skirt they can back to their frat house.I stretched out on my bed for a nap. I was pissed at myself for checking out my roomie again. I was beginning to realize that maybe I was attracted to guys too. I hated that tho and blamed it on the fact that the girl I'd been obsessed with was only playing me and I hadn't come close to getting any action. As I was about to fall asleep, Jason finished his exercises and got up to make a phone call. Turns out he was calling a buddy of his from back home. He proceeded to tell a story about this hot blonde chick he nailed the night before. I tried to stifle a laugh. Truth was he had fallen asleep in front of the TV watching Conan. But that was Jason; everything out of his mouth was a tall tale. Even when he didn't have to, he made up stories. We weren't close, but I was still friendly and we got along decently.When I woke up he was long gone. I thought about what I wanted to do this evening. Some friends were going to grab dinner and see a movie, but I decided to go see Sarah, the chick I had a crush on. She was a hottie and had even done some modeling. I went down to her room and somehow she talked me into taking her out to dinner and then she used me to drive her to a friend's apartment. She and some of her friends were going out clubbing. I wasn't invited. You're right. I was pathetic. Live and learn.I sullenly headed back to my dorm.

I walked in, locking the door behind me. After a few swigs of Jaegermeister, I figured since I had the place to myself for the evening, I could catch up on some long overdue stroking. It'd been over a week since the last time I had any privacy and I needed to get off so bad. I wasted no time in taking off my clothes. I checked my six-foot, 190 lb, tanned frame out in the mirror. I wasn't in bad shape, just not even comparable to Jason. I realized I was better looking tho. Jason, despite his perfect body, had been described by one girl as kind of chipmunk-like. He had a large nose and a beard that was visible even after he shaved, but he was still a handsome guy. The girls were drawn to him, I think because of his self-absorbed asshole jock personality. I realized I was jealous. That's what started everything. Before I knew it, I was wishing I was more like him. Then I pictured him there nearly naked and I wished I could be him. That thought suddenly caused my dick to stir.And now here I was looking at his boxers on top of his pile of dirty clothes. I had to grab them again.

As soon as my hands touched them, I felt a growing heat in my crotch and my cock twitched slightly. I had never done anything gay like this in my life, but I had to. I lifted his shorts and examined them. There were damp spots from his sweat. I ran my fingers over the fabric that only hours earlier had encased his manhood. I shuddered when I noticed small stains that I had no doubt were once drops of Jason's pre-cum. I brought the boxers up to my face, as I knew I had to smell them, smell him. When I inhaled, I was amazed at how wonderful his musk made me feel. At that point, I dashed back to my area of the room and leaped onto my bed. My dick was already rock hard and leaking strings of pre-cum. I sniffed the crotch of Jason's boxers again and I felt my cock throb. I rubbed his shorts against my cheek, then over my hairy chest, and down my stomach. My groin felt like it was on fire. I slowly draped Jason's shorts over my hard-on. Before I knew it, I was jacking my rod encased in his undies. It was so wrong. But I was in pure ecstasy.I almost shot, but I stopped myself. I had to try something. Jason was shorter and thinner than me, but it looked like I could fit. I got off the bed and stood up. I slipped my right foot in first. I paused and looked across the room at my reflection in the mirror. There I was hunched over naked with one leg in my roomie's boxers. I felt my dick drool a huge glob of pre-cum down onto my left foot. I knew there was no going back now. I threw my other leg in and pulled his shorts up by the waistband. When I got to my thighs, they were a little tight, but an extra tug and I had them on! It felt like I was wearing Jason's skin.

I felt another throb in my member and I noticed that my mushroom head was poking up above the waistband. It was begging me to give it attention. I touched the tip with my index finger, gathered a dab of my juice and licked it. I imagined it was Jason that I was tasting and it was the best sensation my tongue ever experienced.I laid back down on my bed. My head was swimming in a sexual frenzy. I didn't care anymore if this was gay. I had never felt so good. I absently began rubbing myself through the cotton of Jason's boxers. This was the home of Jason's sex and now here I was trespassing. I loved it! I ran the palm of my right hand up and down the underside of my still very hard dick. With my left, I massaged my cum-loaded balls. I pulled up the waistband so that my entire cock was encased in his shorts. I felt the cotton ride up into the crack of my ass and I nearly creamed right there. I pictured Jason sprawled out, hot and sweaty, in these very boxers. His perfect hairy jock bod wasn't doing sit-ups tho. He was just like me, with a steel rod straining to be free and a pair of nuts ready to explode. He started masturbating slowly without removing his undies. I did the same. He began a full-length stroke of his cotton-sheathed cock and I kept pace. Faster! He... We squeezed our balls hard. Our hips lifted up off the bed. We moaned in pleasure and jacked even quicker. Our asscheeks clenched and we began an involuntary fucking motion with our hips that we couldn't stop. We had to pump faster! The bed creaked as we went into overdrive. We were nearing the point of no return. We furiously stroked as hard and fast as we could! We were CUMMING! Me! Jason! Me! Jason! JASON!!!I shot the most incredible load of my life! It never seemed to end. I kept cumming, flooding my boxers with cream. My entire body was on fire. It felt like I was shooting myself out of my body. It was overwhelming! I began to pass out from it all. My last thought was the realization that I had lost myself in this orgasm.

I woke up sometime later. I don't know how much time passed. I felt sick to my stomach. I thought maybe it was because I was feeling disgusted with myself for what I had done. But as I thought about it, I knew I had enjoyed it and had no regrets. My stomach was churning for some other reason. I started to sit up and my head started to spin, so I collapsed back down onto my back. My mouth was dry and my tongue felt fuzzy. Then I smelled it. No wonder my head was spinning. I reeked of pot and alcohol. I must have gotten so wasted again that I couldn't even remember doing it.I cursed myself and tried to just go back to sleep, but I was too uncomfortable. The room was too warm and I was sweating. I was thirsty, but didn't want to get up. My hairy chest started to itch and I scratched to sooth it. I continued scratching down to my stomach. It felt unusually hard, almost like I was finally developing some abs, but then it dawned on me that my stomach was just clenching up trying to deal with the discomfort of my overindulging. I spent ten minutes staring up at the dark ceiling, before I realized that I needed to unload my bladder. Damn beer always makes you have to piss too much.Slowly, I sat up and got to my feet. No wonder I was so warm. I was still wearing my clothes, even my shoes. The long sleeve shirt was unbuttoned, but I guess I had been too wasted to take it off. After a pause to get my balance, I headed for the door. I tripped over something in the dark and fell to the floor. I grumbled and blamed Jason for moving my chair. For a second, I thought to myself that I could have turned on a light, but no, it wasn't my fault. I had the sudden urge to beat him up a bit to teach him a lesson.The floor wasn't that uncomfortable to me in this state, but I really had to get to the bathroom, so I forced myself to get to my feet. I wobbled the rest of the way to the door.

The light in the hallway blinded me, but my eyes adjusted after a few seconds. Everything was clear. Sigh. I had fallen asleep with my contact lenses in again. I pondered whether I should get my stuff to take them out for the night, but I felt lazy and it wouldn't do any harm to wait till morning to clean them. I shook the cobwebs out of my head and continued on. The community bathroom was right next to our room, so I didn't have far to go fortunately.When I entered, Johnny, one of the guys who lived down the hall, was just on his way out. We weren't buds, so we only exchanged a simple "Hey" as we passed each other. It was the oddest thing. He was wearing a 49ers sweatshirt, but it was gray instead of red like the team colors. Whatever. I needed to drain my snake bad now, so I hurried into one of the stalls.I kicked the toilet seat up with my foot. Weird. I didn't own Doc Marten's. I must have really been fucked up if I put on one of my roomies' shoes. I went for the zipper on my pants and froze. My hands! They were pale. No tan at all. What the hell?! For a sec, I thought it might be the fluorescent lighting. Then I saw my torso! I couldn't believe what I was seeing. My skin was white. And I was chiseled! Oh shit!!! I stared for an eternity. Had someone slipped me something? Was I hallucinating? Hell, if I was I didn't want it to end. I started rubbing my hands over my eight-pack and my perfectly shaped hairy saucer pecs. It was incredible! I felt the blood rushing to crotch. You bet I was getting turned on! I massaged the beast in my pants. Wait, these weren't mine.

These pants shouldn't have fit me, but I was so much slimmer now. Oddly tho, I was wearing my shirt; one of my nice shirts I wear when going out clubbing. I got more confused. The shirt was a little big for me, but it looked damn good on my body still.After several minutes of awe, it occurred to me that if my body had changed, what about my face? I hadn't looked at the mirror when I came in. I was almost afraid to turn around and look now, but I had to know. I spun around and I saw Jason staring at me! My jaw dropped. I stopped breathing. I thought I was going to pass out. My mind refused to accept what my eyes were seeing. How could this be? I walked out of the stall closer to the bathroom counter. Every movement I made was duplicated by Jason in the mirror. I traced the contours of my face. My nose was larger and sharper. I had a shadow of a beard. Green eyes glistened back at me. I smiled and my reflection was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen. My dick must have liked it too. It was rock hard and tenting out my pants obscenely. MY DICK! HOLY FUCK! I had Jason's erect cock on my body! That realization caused it to throb as it strained to break free of my pants. I had to see my new equipment! I almost whipped it out right there. Before I had the chance, Jason's and my buddy Brent stumbled into the bathroom, piss ass drunk. He was heading for a toilet, but he paused, as he had seen me staring at myself with a bone in my pants."Bwahahaha! You getting off looking at yourself again dumbass? You're such a narsus...narciss...fucking hell. You're a freak dude!" Brent slurred as he entered a stall. He quickly fell to his knees, preparing to worship the porcelain god."Fuck you, you cocksucking son of a bitch!" I was astounded that that flew out of my mouth. I normally would have been embarrassed. "I was just thinking about the great head your slut whore girlfriend Cindy gave me last night.""Shut the fuck up, Jason. I know that ain't true cuz my slut whore girlfriend spent last night fucking half the guys on my baseball team." We both laughed at that.

Then I heard a retch as Brent took care of his business. I suddenly was pissed that he and the other guys hadn't told me they were going out drinking after the movie. I missed out.No, I hadn't. I was still feeling the effects of all the beer I had downed earlier with Caleb and Nick. Wait. Who the hell are Caleb and Nick? My frat bros, of course. Hold up! I'm not a stupid-ass fratboy. I was more confused than ever. I remembered my life clearly, but whenever I started to think about an aspect of Jason's, it would pop into my head and seem totally natural. Was Jason still in this body? Was he in my body? Am I Jason, just whacked out thinking he's Ryan? Details only I would know and then details only Jason would know would occur to me. I was beginning to freak. The best thing I decided was to just think about the present. And in the present I had a pole in my pants that was crying for attention. I went back into the stall and closed the door behind me. Brent finished up and headed out, "Catch ya later, dickwad!"I did not waste a second. I ripped my pants open and saw what I had only dreamed of. Jason's cockhole was pointed up winking at me, as a drop of pre-cum began to pool at the opening. It was so beautiful. His entire dick was a work of art. The skin was creamy white-colored with a purple hue from the blood-engorged tissue underneath. He was slightly shorter than me, but he more than made up for it in thickness. I grabbed the shaft and nearly creamed when I felt how my hand barely fit around it. I squeezed and then fisted my way up to the edge of the head. With my other hand I touched the tip and gathered the pre-cum that had drooled from the hole. I touched it to my tongue and finally tasted Jason for the first time. I was in Heaven.I began rubbing the head, as I stroked the shaft. Jason had been cut like me and that was the only disappointment I felt, as I always wondered what it felt like to have a foreskin. I started to jerk off in earnest. I heard myself moaning rhythmically. That was something I never do, but something I've heard Jason do in his sleep. Now I know what he was dreaming about. I took one hand and fondled my tight assglobes. I started swaying, and then thrusting just like I was fucking someone with this fat monster cock. I reached the edge after only a few minutes. I stopped. Of course I wanted to cum! But not so fast. I wanted my first experience in my new bod to last longer and the bathroom stall wasn't exactly the best place either. Besides, I was becoming more aware of the fact that I had neglected my reason for coming in here in the first place.My bladder was near bursting. I don't know how much beer Jason drank...7 bottles. Oh, right. I needed release badly. There was a problem tho. I was still rock hard. I tried to make it go down so I could let loose. Nothing happened. I was simply too excited with my new body. I tried thinking about non-sexual things; baseball, cars, math. That didn't do any good. I was beginning to worry. The pain was growing. I scoured my mind for something sure to make me go limp. An image of Linda suddenly appeared. She was one of the fattest, nastiest, evil bitches in the building and I had the misfortune of seeing her in a bikini during a swim party a few months back. That did the trick. I felt myself going down a bit. Than a new image hit me. I saw Linda jump into the pool and when she surfaced, she was coming out of her suit! I damn near vomited.

That was something Jason had seen and I was sorry I had come across that memory. My dick was only half hard now at least. I finally let a golden stream fly out. I was fascinated by it. I don't know why. I was pissing Jason's urine and it just seemed like the most amazing thing. It went on for over a minute. As the last squirts left me, I felt that wonderful sensation that runs thru you're whole body and makes you shudder. It seemed twice as strong as usual, probably just because it was my first time as Jason and every sensation was amplified for me right now.I tucked myself back into place and zipped up. I felt the monster growing again and I wanted to get back to the room, so I could pick up where I left off. As I exited, I admired the handsome stud looking back at me in the mirror. He grinned, just like he does whenever he's up to something. I hurried out the door and back to our room.As soon as I got back into our dorm room, I was ready to rip my clothes off and really give this body a test drive. We had several lights around the room and I turned on the one with the least power. It only lit the room well enough to let us move about without running into things, as I had done on my way to the bathroom. Of course! That's why I had run into that chair. I had gotten out of Jason's bed earlier! And the gray-looking 49ers sweatshirt! Jason was colorblind to red. It was all coming together. Except how had this happened?I slid my arms out of my shirt. Hey. It was my shirt! Why was Jason wearing my shirt?

The reasons flooded my mind. Jason had seen me wearing it many times and he thought I looked good in it. He had come back from the frat dinner before going out partying and since I was out with Sarah, he helped himself to my shirt. Jason was disappointed that he didn't look as good in it and he wished he had my skin tone. Then he wished he was taller like me and had a smaller nose. Not long after he was wondering what it would be like to be Ryan. Wow. Maybe since we were both wanting the same thing and wearing each other's clothes, somehow our minds had reached out and we had given our bodies to each other. Whatever the case, I wasn't about to look this gift horse in the mouth.No more distractions. The room was still warm and I needed out of these clothes. I was in my birthday suit in seconds. My thick cock was pointing straight out. It was an incredible sight to see it jutting out underneath my perfect washboard stomach. I turned and took in my reflection in the dim light. I ran my hands over every part of this perfect form and returned to my beautiful new penis. I wrapped one hand around the beast and grabbed my hanging sack with the other. My body was trembling from the sexual excitement. I had never felt so turned on in my life.Just as I started to stroke again, I noticed the sound of breathing in the room. I squinted and could make out through the shadows that someone was in my bed. I quietly tiptoed across our large room, my hand never letting go of its prize. The person was under a blanket, but I had a good idea who it was. Who else would be in my bed? I was strangely excited by the prospect of seeing my old body in three dimensions. I reached for the blanket and pulled it off the bed. There I was! Spread-eagled and still in Jason's boxers. I whispered, "Jason?" There was no response, as he seemed to be out cold. I could smell the Jaeger on his breath. I cautiously reached out and touched my former chest. It seemed almost a forbidden thing to do, even though I'd done so all my life. I fingered Ryan's nipples, and then licked them with the tip of my tongue. A bulge in his shorts caught my eye. He was hard! I wondered what he was dreaming about. I moved down his body and slipped my fingers into the fly of the boxers to pull the rod out. It felt so hot in my hand, completely unlike holding your own. I crawled up onto the bed between his legs. I had a hand on each cock. I moved closer and touched the tips. Our pre-cum mixed, as I rubbed the bulbous mushroom heads together. Then I did something I always wanted to do, but couldn't no matter how hard I tried. I put my former dick in my mouth and suckled it softly. His breathing became irregular and I stopped to keep from waking him. I waited a couple minutes, before I grabbed his hips and gently began to turn him over onto his stomach. He didn't wake and now I had a view of my former ass encased in a tight pair of sweaty boxer shorts. My dick heated up and I couldn't resist pushing my groin up against his ass.

Instinctually, I began to rub my self up and down his cotton-covered crack. Before I knew it, I was dry humping him. Then I rammed him too hard and he stirred. I leapt off the bed and backed away. He turned on his side and looked in my direction. I don't think he could see me in the shadows, at least not clearly. I backed away some more, and bumped one of our other roommates' cabinets.I heard a grumble and then he rolled back onto his stomach, as he calmly spoke, "Ry, could you try to keep the noise down?""Sorry dude." Wow! That confirmed it. He figured I was Ryan since the other roomies were gone. Jason had no clue that he was now me. The polite way he asked me to be quiet was so unlike him that it made me realize that he was absorbing some of my personality traits just like I had his. He drifted off to sleep again. I pondered whether I should wake him. No, not until I have a chance to get off in my new bod!I headed back across the room to Jason's bed. I got down on my back and fondled my naked form some more. I slapped my fat dick around and let it come to a rest on my rocky abs. I was going to get blue balls soon if I didn't cum. I tweaked my nipples with my left hand and reached for my meat with my right paw. I didn't need any lube at all. My dick was like a faucet. I jerked my wet silky cock slowly, polishing the head with my thumb when I reached the tip. I picked up the pace. I moved my left hand down to stretch and squeeze my hairy ballsack. I began moaning involuntarily again. My ass clenched as hard as steel and I had to reach around to feel the pure muscle. I ran my finger along the sweaty crack and the sudden urge to penetrate my hole overcame me. I wondered whether Jason had ever fingered himself before and then I suddenly remembered having the desire to experiment, but always chickening out because it was too gay. Not this time! I paused my stroking long enough to allow my left middle finger to wet itself with my pre-cum. I pressed against my virgin rosebud and pushed! My finger slid in easily and I found my prostate. As soon as I poked it, I felt the most intense sexual tremor short of an orgasm rush through my body. My dick jumped and felt like it was going to burst out of its skin. I grabbed my throbbing hard cock and stroked like a madman, as I continued to massage my prostate internally.

My hips began to lift off the mattress. I began thrusting into the air. I felt like I was fucking and being fucked at the same time! I fisted my dick furiously! I had to come! I felt a layer of sweat covering my entire body. FASTER! Every cell in my body was on fire! HARDER! I was careening towards the edge! I stuck my nose in my armpit to get a whiff. Yes! I smelled Jason! I looked at my wildly masturbating body. I saw Jason! I WAS JASON! I CAME!!!And I kept cumming! I shot up past my head to the wall. Another shot landed on my face. I soaked my whole body in cum! It was absolute sexual bliss. I can't explain it any other way. It was everything I had ever wanted. I had never felt so satisfied. I scooped up a pool of my cum and greedily sucked it down my throat. Then I relaxed, closed my eyes, and just let myself feel all the sensations of my new perfect body. I knew I was going to have so much fun being Jason...The sun was bearing down on me as I woke. In all the excitement last night, I had forgotten to close the curtain before going to sleep. I opened my eyes and everything was kinda blurry. I tried to focus. Shit! I couldn't. That meant I needed my glasses. I was me again. I was Ryan. Dammit! I sat up and felt really dizzy. I reeked of alcohol. That figures. It was all just a drunken fantasy. I had only had a couple swigs though. Sigh. Stupid brain. Oh well. It had been a fun ride while it lasted I told myself. I looked at my body. I was naked and covered in dried cum. I put my glasses on, got to my feet and threw on a robe to cover myself till I could get in the shower.I glanced across the room and my eyes bugged out. There on the bed sleeping was Jason. Jason was naked. Naked with his finger up his ass! No way! I just stared in disbelief.

Did it really happen last night?Jason began to stir and I turned around so he wouldn't see me staring at him. I heard him yawn and get up. "Shit, I'm a mess," he grunted.I had expected him to cover himself up, so I was shocked when I turned around and saw him standing naked and likewise covered in dried spunk. He saw the look on my face and laughed. Then he walked towards me without any embarrassment."Hey. You know what? Something odd happened to me last night," he said, as he looked me in the eyes.I damn near freaked. Was he going to say he noticed his missing boxers? Damn! What'd I do with them anyway? Stupid, stupid, stupid!Jason gazed deep into my eyes, as he continued, "I woke up and noticed that someone left the light on. Then I noticed I was in your bed. I got up to go to mine...and I freakin' saw my body laying there buck naked with a finger up the ass! Guess who I saw when I looked in the mirror. I thought I was going nuts or hallucinating...But it was real wasn't it?"I feebly nodded my head. I was shocked, but I was also aroused again at the prospect that it was true."So Ry... How often do you beat off with my underwear?" I'm sure he saw my face go pale. He laughed and tapped his temple with his finger, "I don't think there's going to be any more secrets between the two of us anymore, huh? Looks like you had some fun with my body," he said while gesturing to the dried cum all over his torso. I couldn't say a word. I was completely embarrassed. Jason could tell.

"Hey! Come on man! Relax. It's kewl. I had a good time with your body too." He pulled my robe open and pointed out all the jizz coating me. "Sorry about the hangover you've got. I finished off your Jaeger. Nice try hiding it, but like I said, no more secrets.""Guess not," was all I could mutter."You know. There's a lot more I'd like to do as you Ryan. You think we might give it another shot? We could have all kinds of fun. Seems like an awful gift to waste. Hmm." Jason tilted his head down and eyed my very erect dick, "Is that a yes?"He grabbed my rod and I swallowed hard before quietly begging, "Yes, please."Jason let go of my cock and threw my robe off. We were both naked and his dick was pointing to the sky with mine. He pulled me to him and we embraced, our hard-ons trapped between our stomachs. I looked into his beautiful green eyes and he stared right back. Our minds touched. I felt myself flow into him as he flowed into me. We were connected in a way beyond imagination, sharing our bodies, minds, and souls. Yes, this was a gift. The perfect gift.

280 notes · View notes