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echo-rambles · 3 months

Text

use my body against me

summary: when a drunk text to your ex gets answered in a way you never expected, it leads to falling right back into old habits. tags: past established relationship, ex-boyfriend chan, suggestive content but nothing explicit, mention of recreational alcohol use, swearing. notes: title from the way you miss me by all time low. mostly a rewrite of my very first reader insert fic, because I loved the concept but I wasn't a fan of my own writing, and I think I've vastly improved since. I might write a continuation, but no promises.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

The situation you currently find yourself in is truly one of your own making. There’s really no one else to blame, no matter how much you would love to point the finger at literally anyone besides yourself.

There’s a text message from Bang Christopher Chan sitting there, on your phone. Staring up at you almost accusatory and chilling you to the bone.

-Good morning, I hope you’re drinking water to combat all of that vodka you consumed last night! hahaha

At first, the text means nothing to you. It leaves you in a state of mild confusion only exacerbated by your incredible hangover. How would he know you drank your weight in liquor? The only answer you can even try to think up isn’t a good one. Feeling brave and a little nauseous, you decide to scroll up, farther into this conversation between you and your ex.

The confusion melts away into horror as you locate the beginning of this conversation. One glance at the selfie you sent has the memory coming back to you, causing your headache to flare. Oh no.

It was late last night, and you had already drank one too many shots of whatever fruity flavored vodka was available. Shut away in Felix’s bathroom, the light overhead far too harsh and fluorescent, pulling your shirt down enough to show off your cleavage. Snapping a picture in the mirror above the sink, leaning into the counter and trying your best to look some approximation of sexy.

Fumbling fingers sent it to Chan. The first text between the two of you in months.

Looking at the selfie now has your stomach twisting into knots. Oh no. The texts that followed aren’t any better. Actually, they somehow make the entire situation worse.

-the fact that i wore this shirt hoping you’d be at this party only to learn you went home EARLY?

-i wasted such an amazing outfit and for nothing

-i bet you looked good too. bastard

-sometimes i can’t tell if i miss you or just the weight of you on top of me

-i miss how good you were -i know fora fact i miss your mouth -i miss your mouth on MY MOUTH -omg i miss my mouth on your

You swipe away from those messages. Knowing for a fact you’ll have to read them eventually, to get a proper understanding of the things you said to him. But not right now. Right now you continue to scroll, your texts devolving into a mix of incomprehensible emojis and bitching at Chan about things he very obviously can’t control. You were a mess, holy shit. Who even let you text? Why wasn’t your phone confiscated the moment vodka hit your lips?

The only things that Chan has replied with since your terrible wall of drunk texts is an initial Oh wow lol, and his aforementioned good morning text.

It could be worse, right? He could’ve blocked you or typed out an excruciatingly long lecture about drinking responsibly. It honestly could’ve been so much worse.

Crawling your way out of bed, still vaguely nauseous and trying to fight the urge to lay face down on the floor and never get up again, you shuffle your way into the bathroom. First thing’s first before you tackle whatever the fuck is on your phone, you decide to wash up to feel human again.

The world can fall apart around you for all you care. All you want is a shower and some toothpaste.

Wrapped in a towel and your toothbrush sticking out of your mouth, you finally decide to reply. You probably shouldn’t, especially now that you’re sober and know better, but you have to apologize. That feels like the polite thing to do.

Well, the only way to begin is by beginning.

-lol hey good afternoon

-I ended up demolishing an entire water bottle when I got home last night but sadly it wasn’t enough to save me

How do you even apologize for last night? Sorry I was so angry and horny and I made it your problem? Sorry that the first time I've texted you since we broke up was a drunk thirst trap? So sorry, and hey by the way how have you been since we had the messiest breakup because you’re bad at prioritizing and I’m bad at communication?

Yeah, definitely none of that.

You’re still standing there in your bathroom, staring into the mirror and brushing your teeth on autopilot as your mind spins into itself, when your phone lights up. One notification followed swiftly by a second, making your phone buzz on the counter.

Chan’s contact stares back at you, both messages fading off into ellipses.

-Ah, RIP. You should’ve drank three…

-Hey, I know this is last minute, but I was wondering if we could…

Oh, you don’t think this is the sort of message you can read by yourself while still combating the aching nausea of a hangover. Absolutely not, whatever he has to say can be answered once you have a sufficient amount of caffeine and the right company.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

“I need a second opinion.” It’s the first thing you say, after sitting down across from Felix and shoving your phone at him. Showing off the string of text messages you experienced after waking up. You still haven’t read the newest text.

Felix barely even moves his head from where it’s resting against the table. He’s clearly just as hungover as you are, but you feel like you’re in the middle of making a very bad decision and you need a second opinion. You shimmy your phone under the seam where his forehead meets the wood.

With a little pout and deep groan, he’s shifting around and unlocking your phone. The silence stretches on as he swipes through the text thread and stares, blinks, and blinks some more. With a start, he’s sitting up straight, pulling the phone closer.

“Wait, he wants to meet up with you?”

“He wants to what?” You snatch the phone from his hands, finally reading the text yourself.

-Hey, I know this is last minute, but I was wondering if we could maybe grab lunch? Or, if you’re still too hungover for lunch, maybe something later?

Just the idea of seeing him again has something hot and electric buzzing through your veins. Your immediate instinct is to say yes. You want to say yes so badly, yes a thousand times over. Instead you very deliberately place your phone onto the table.

Felix has slumped back into his seat, eyeing you warily. “I thought you weren’t talking to him?”

“I mean- I wasn’t. But now I am, kind of? It’s not that big of a deal-”

“It felt like you two went through a divorce, I don’t know if I’d say it’s ‘not a big deal’-”

“I’m over it!” You proclaim, a little loudly. A little desperately. “And he is too if he’s talking to me.”

All you get in response is Felix’s eyebrows pitching inwards and his mouth molding into a little frown. The type of frown that is trying very hard to not be a frown. He’s giving you the most pitying look you’ve probably ever seen on his angelic face.

You should say no. Scoop up your phone and tell him that you can’t make it. Conjure up some far flung excuse so that you won’t reopen old wounds. But you want to see him again, desperately.

You tap your fingers along the edge of the table. “Is this a bad idea?”

“Do you want my truthful answer?” Felix replies from the depths of his hoodie. Your phone sits between you, dark screen facing the ceiling.

You think for a moment. “Yes.”

“Yes.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

The thing is, you know he has a point. It doesn’t feel very good but it’s true. Sure, you and Chan can be amicable over text, but that’s over text. Who knows what will happen if you’re face to face. Would it be awkward and stilted? Or maybe everything you say to each other will be filled with vitriolic anger. Things didn’t exactly end on the best terms, and that might just leak into an otherwise pleasant meeting.

But you are nothing if not a professional at both denial and deflections, so you push all of those thoughts very far away.

Maybe this could be a new start. Maybe you and Chan could be the incredibly rare type of people who are friends with their ex. You’d like that, actually, to have Chan back in your life beyond some tertiary character you hear about from other people. Texting him reminded you how much you actually miss your best friend.

Snatching your phone up, you just barely restrain yourself from checking to see if you somehow managed to miss any new messages.

“It’s a friend thing! Friend’s hang out all the time. We're going to go get coffee or something equally platonic and we're going to ignore all of the drunk texts I sent him!” Your voice raises in pitch towards the end, and it sounds like you're trying to convince yourself more than anything else.

Felix gives you a very unimpressed look. “You told him that you miss the feel of his-”

“I know what I said!"

"In your mouth-"

"Thank you!”

Those texts are burned into your brain, you're well aware of the things you sent Chan. How they got more detailed the more you sent. Just remembering some of them has you flushing.

“I mean," Felix hums, oblivious to the direction your thoughts are taking. "I guess it could be a thing friends do.” There's too much sarcasm in his words for your liking.

“As if you haven’t said something similar to any of your friends.”

One of his eyebrows arch, and the gesture is so very pointed. “Any friend that I’ve gotten on my knees for was never at any point an extremely complicated ex.”

"Shut the fuck up." He's right and you hate it.

But still. You want to see Chan so badly. Finally you give in to the all consuming urge to reply. Opening up Chan’s contact, your fingers work quickly.

-I mean, if you’re paying…

-Of course I’ll pay haha

-then count me in!

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone cave so quickly.” Felix sighs, but there’s something all tangled into his words. Some emotion you can’t really identify right now. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say it sounds hopeful.

“Seriously, shut up.”

“You came here asking for my opinion!”

“Well!” You huff, trying not to glance at the little typing bubble that appears under your fingers. Signaling that Chan is in the middle of replying to you. He wants to continue your stupid little conversation. Your heart does a funny little wiggle at the sight. “I’ll take what you said into consideration, I guess.”

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Felix was probably right, and that was such a complicated thought to have while Chan’s hand was currently palming you through your shirt.

See, it really had started out with grabbing coffee together. Something extremely casual with no pressure, the conversation just a little awkward at the start. Both of you trying to remember how to be civil towards each other, how to smile and laugh at jokes. It came a lot easier to Chan, as always. But you missed this. You missed being in the same space as him and hearing his voice and fucking hell, Felix was right; you’re so incredibly weak.

You tried so hard to keep things on track, really you did. The possibility of being friends was right there, laid out in front of you. But then Chan smiled- that small little smile where he ducks his head and bites at his lip and looks up at you from under those fucking eyelashes of his, and oh. You were gone.

He makes it almost disgustingly easy to be around him. It makes your head buzz.

Somehow the touch of your fingers against the inside of his wrist lead you to his apartment. Where he pins you to the wall and kisses you so deeply you can feel it in your toes. You almost forgot what it felt like when Chan put his full strength into holding you in place. It’s heady.

He still tastes the same. Somehow, in the midst of his hands gripping and tugging you closer, pressing your hips flush together, that’s the thought that floats its way to the forefront. Chan tastes the same, even after all this time where you never got to taste him. He feels the same too, a little wider, mostly in his shoulders, but still familiar. He makes the same little noise in the back of his throat when you run your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.

It’s all so familiar and you could choke on it.

You should probably talk about this. The making out, yes, absolutely, but also the last few months and the texts and him asking to see you out of the blue. It should be talked about, right? Except what would you even say? You’ll just rehash the same things you’ve been saying. You felt ignored and he felt suffocated and you could never find a way to meet in the middle because you’re both stubborn.

You should say something though, right? Right?

The press of his hand against the dip of your waist, pulling you closer, has you losing any semblance of what language even is. Words? Who needs them? He’s hooking his other hand behind your knee and hiking it up, guiding you to wrap your leg around him, and really all you can think about is how you aren’t close enough.

You sneak your fingers up under the hem of his shirt, feeling the expanse of his skin, and the sound of the breathiest gasp leaving his lips settles along the curve of your spine.

This doesn’t feel like a particularly good idea, but then he’s grinding against you, fingers digging into the meat of your thigh, and it doesn’t really matter all that much.

“Is this a terrible idea?” He asks, practically breathing the words directly into your mouth, and you find it a little funny. Not only are you both having the same sort of thought, but it feels incredibly belated.

“Honestly Chris? I don’t really give a fuck.”

That gets him to laugh. Just the quietest little giggle into the skin of your jaw. His hand moves, until he’s grabbing at your ass and angling your hips higher, and it’s really such an inspired thing. The feeling of him, hard through his denim, pressing into you has a moan tripping out of you.

You definitely need to talk about this.

Chan keeps touching you, kissing you, undressing you. Little by little, constantly asking 'is this ok? Yeah? We can stop whenever you want-' because he's still a gentleman. You haven't been this close to him in months, but he's still so fucking considerate. It'd be more maddening if it wasn't so familiar. If anything it’s reassuring, filling you with a stupid amount of confidence. You know how to deal with this.

You repeat yes over and over, hands at his shoulders and licking the word into his mouth, no matter how much he asks.

He peels your shirt away, careful with the fabric, mouth already trailing down your neck, your chest, landing on the swell of your cleavage. Hands so wide, palms easily fitting to your bare waist.

"Just tell me to stop, and I will-"

Finally you snap. Like a live wire pulled too taut, reaching out to grab at his face. Pressing your fingers into the hollows of his cheeks, his chin resting in the curve of your palm. "Christopher, I'm so horny I feel like I might cry. So while I really appreciate what you're trying to do- if you don't rail me stupid in the next five minutes, I can't be held accountable for my actions."

"Oh, sorry." He blinks at you, a little slowly as he leans more of his weight into your hand. Your fingers dig into the meat of his face and you can feel something tense in his jaw.

"Don't apologize baby, just get on with it." This feels familiar too. Like slipping into a pair of beloved jeans. The fit so perfect.

His eyes light up in the next instant, sparkling and bright, and holy shit you're in for it now. "Say less, boss."

You don't know if you still love him, but you do know that you'll always love the feeling of his mouth on you. His hands. Leaving wet trails as he kisses your skin messily, sloppy. Clever fingers following in the wake of his tongue.

#stray kids #skz #bang chan x reader #skz x reader #echo writes #if I missed any warnings/tags just let me know!#anyway uhh please enjoy.#I do have plans for a part 2 but nothing concrete #we'll see if I want to continue this lol

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snowy-vee · 28 days

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TUG: I can’t have my heart lookin’ stupid (2)

n/a: I am on the wost mental block, unable to write anything, so I've decided to just WRITE WHATEVER, so I may be posting One-shots and writing for the On-goings whenever inspo come at me, I was going to write some shower smut but maybe for the opening of next chapter. Also, I always forget of the taglists, so sorry, I'll try to remember better after this one

Chapter not revised

taglist; @littlegingerperson5 @lil-elliesgf @bready101 @lmaoo-spiderman @elliescoolerwife @girlrotterr @les4elliewilliams @ellseasp @elsgirll @mikellie

INDEX

You finally could rest in that desk after finishing all the work Professor Mendozal eft you, you sighed looking around the office. Yeah, time to go to your dorm and sleep, maybe cuddle with Ellie if she was down to it, of course cuddling as friends.

Because you and Ellie were friends before anything, you two should never forget that, even if it came with some benefits that had to be kept secret to the public for the good of friendships and relationships. Sometimes you felt bad about what you were doing but then she had her lips on yours and that was enough to shut those thoughts… and Daniel did not deserve to be hurt because he couldn’t make you cum, maybe one day he would stop moving his fingers in your clit as if he was a fucking DJ mixing the worst mix in the history of music.

“Hi” You said opening the door of the dorm, throwing your backpack in your bed and throwing yourself too leaving a frustrated huff. Ellie was sitting on her bed with her legs crossed typing in her laptop barely acknowledging you, it was normal when you entered the dorm tired and just screamed into the pillow or sigh heavily and then went silent for long seconds. “You’re doing homework?”

“Yeah”

“Oh, shit!” You suddenly kneel on your bed, opening your backpack and pulling out a brown bag. Ellie looks at the bag and opens her mouth surprised as you wave it.

“No way”

“Yes way” you said going to her bed and sitting on the edge as you gave the bag to her “I did a little stop and I saw the bakery you like, so I decided to buy the pastries you talk so much, you can see it as thank you”

She opens the bag taking out one and biting it, she closes her eyes and licks her lips. You chuckled at her reaction; she seemed so adorable to you. “This is like fifteen minutes away from your building, you are thanking me for what?”

“For that tongue of yours”

“I must be really good for you to spend money in this, very expensive for your wallet” you open your mouth wide muttering a long ‘wow’ with a hand on your chest, showing how offended you felt.

“This is what I get for being nice… now, for real, the notes you sent me for the class? Worked so fucking great, I almost had a brain orgasm”

“That doesn’t sound great, not something I want to experience”

“Trust me, you do…” you chuckled looking over her desk, there was clothes neatly folded in the chair and her “special shoes” (meaning she only wore them once in a blue moon) were out of their box “You’re going out tonight? Where? A good party? I wanna go!”

“Uh, something like that, I guess” she scratched the back of her neck and smiled weirdly “It’s my anniversary with Cat”

“Ew- I mean, amazing! That’s so… coupley of you two ¡Go lesbians! or whatever”

Ellie stared at you for a long minute tilting her head before she talked again. “Okay, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Nothing, just being supportive” You got up from the bed and went to check the clothes to see what the outfit was “Oh, god, I could be supportive helping you not look like your everyday ¿What the hell is this? ¿Are this the same jeans you wore yesterday?”

“I look good in those!” Ellie got up leaving the pastries in her night stand and snatching the pants from your hand.

“Never said you didn’t” You raised your hands in a gesture of peace. “What I’m saying is that you let me help picking you a good fit to impress Cat in your anniversary, come on, don’t let romance die, you guys are so cute and-”

“Will you stop talking if I say yes?”

You nodded energetically clapping once as you turned around and open the doors of her wardrobe. Ellie sighed defeated as she went back to her bed and kept working a little bit more until you could find something worthy, it’s not like she didn’t had good clothes, it’s just that her style was very plain and casual but it look great on her, she did not care that much, now if we talked about shoes… Ellie was a sneaker head, at least one in making, half of her paycheck or allowance went on some new shoes and she started telling you every detail and why it was so different from the other one she got last month, you couldn’t care less but you liked how she expressed herself so you listened to every word and sometimes found yourself spitting some random fact to someone that you learned from her about it.

In less than 30 minutes you had something “Try this on!”

You threw the clothes at her landing poorly on the floor next to the bed, she again gave you that look but huffed taking off her tank top, she had no underwear and you were shamelessly looking at her tits as she put on the shirt and started buttoning it up. There was no way you were dolling her up to go on a date with a Cat and you were going to be locked up in the room celibate mode, that sounded frustrating.

“Not bad, actually” Ellie looked at her reflection in the mirror, nodding slowly as she checked herself.

The clothes fit her so good and the new haircut she got days ago made her look 100% better, you were smiling through the pain of not being able to rip them and make her yours in that exact moment. Ellie was now making faces in the mirror, tucking her hair behind her ear with one hand on her chin, etc.

“Miss steal yo-girl is feeling herself” you chuckled going back to your bed, your job was done here “With that outfit you will get a lot of girls”

She chuckled too starting to undress as she was walking towards the bathroom “Well, Cat is the only one that matters”

“…yeah”

You could hear the water running but the door was still open, maybe she was waiting for it heat up, anyway, you were going to respect their relationship tonight, It was anniversary night, that was a big thing. Cat had all the rights to only she be the one to have Ellie for herself that day and you were not going to meddle.

“Wanna shower?” Ellie was leaning against the doorframe only a towel cover her body, you practically jump from your bed to meet her in the bathroom taking your clothes off quickly.

“I thought you were never going to ask”

If Ellie didn’t respect her relationship, why would you?

#ellie williams #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie fanfic #ellie smut #ellie williams fic #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams au #ellie williams smut

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just-jordie-things · 6 months

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omg i love the way u write jjk characters! i was reading ur work and had a scenario that i thought would be so fun to read from you if you like the idea! i was thinking abt if you got drunk with them at the school (like maybe all the students sneak to one persons dorm or something), how they would act drunk, how they would treat u, what would happen etc. my favs are toge and yuji but you could do whoever ofc!

ok idk if this is exactly what you were looking for but since i've wrtten a few fics now where drinking/partying was the theme, i'm gonna assign the jjk crews their party night roles lolol so enjoy

ITADORI YUUJI is the life of the party, obviously. he's the type to bring jello shots to the function and if no one wants them, he'll eat em all himself. he's the guy that you dare to do stuff as the night goes on. he's the guy that somehow, at the end of each party, is missing a shirt. did he go swimming? did someone spill on it? did he spill on it? (most likely) everyone laughs but no one really complains about it. he's always got a fun plan or game in mind to keep the night going, and everyone's happy to have him there.

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI is the shy-at-first guest. he's slow when he first gets there, and always claims he doesn't want to get too fucked up. he's got a never ending amount of excuses up his sleeve as to why he can't take that shot with you, or be your partner for beer pong. but give him an hour to warm up. he'll spend that time lining up a fire playlist and semi-mingling. the trick to getting him to loosen up? just a quick smoke first. don't jump on him with it, but if he sees a joint being passed around, he can't resist just a couple puffs. what's the harm, right? a couple puffs and he's giving in to whatever other party shenanigans come his way.

KUGISAKI NOBARA is in charge of the photography for the evening. everyone's instagrams and snapchat stories are well taken care of when she's around. in the early parts of the evening they're casual photos, fit checks, some candids of the laughing group as they play games or eat pizza. she's quite good with lighting and angles, and no one complains when she shoves her phone in their face. as the night goes on, she probably documents more than she should- toge drawing on yuuta's face while he's passed out, yuuji shirtless and covering himself in whipped cream on a dare- but it's always too funny to go through them the next day and delete half the evidence.

PANDA is the dancer. if he's drinking, he's dancing. it doesn't matter how many drinks are in his system. it doesn't matter if the music is particularly fun- or even playing. he's got too much excitement from hanging out with his friends and is down for a good time. he's also easy to coerce into pranking someone.

INUMAKI TOGE is the coercer of pranks. if someone passes out, he's always got a marker on him. he always has the best dares for truth or dare, and isn't afraid when others want to get their revenge. he's that class-clown energy at the party. sometimes it's annoying, but it's always undeniably funny. he definitely likes those tacky party favors from spencers. especially the big dick shaped syringes for taking shots. he's got a lot of sus 'party decorations'. but let's be real it's really fucking funny when he breaks out the newest one. also if he gets too drunk he will use his cursed speech for the sake of humor.

ZEN'IN MAKI is the bartender and general caretaker of the group. she's the best at mixed drinks and knows everyone's favorite, but always has something new to try. as the designated bartender she's also the one subtly making sure everyone is on a good track for the night. most of the time it just meant keeping an eye on yuuji and toge, reminding them to have some water every once in a while went a long way. and she's not afraid to cut you off if you're getting sloppy. i also think she'd roll the fattest, cleanest joints when she's not mixing drinks.

OKKOTSU YUUTA is the first to fall asleep. he's a good time, don't get me wrong. he loves the games and the dancing and the goofing around, but he's an overworked boy and... a bit of a lightweight. motherfucker takes two hits and is shaking his head the rest of the rotation. it's kinda cute that his eyes get all red after so little before he raids the snack table. maki knows he has a five drink limit before he either needs to drink water or rally or... as usual, he's slumped into the couch and snoozing away. it's a miracle that he can sleep so hard when the music is blasting and everyone has to yell to be heard- especially when it's itadori yelling. by the end of the night, someone's thrown a blanket over him, and toge's vandalized his face with permanent marker.

#THIS WAS SO FUN AAHHH HEHEHE #megumi brainrot #yuuji brainrot #nobara brainrot #maki brainrot #toge brainrot #yuuta brainrot #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fanfiction #jujtusu kaisen fanfiction #itadori yuuji x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #inumaki toge x reader #okkotsu yuuta x reader

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ghuleh-recs · 2 months

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Cardinal Copia had his own Fic Rec Friday and now it’s Popia’s turn. I've compiled a healthy mix of x reader and x ghoul below. A little something for everyone! I may have gotten a little carried away— there's a lot to see here so make good use of your ao3 bookmarks!

Take my hand. Let’s read about the HBIC together. ♡

recs under the cut.

Papa x Reader

Don't Go - @ramblingoak - papa iv x gn!reader

While trying to convince Papa to cancel the tour you end up confessing how you feel about him.

Rough Day - @writingjourney - papa iv x f!reader

papa takes care of you after a rough day.

Your Star Wrapped in My Cloak - @sherwood-forests - papa iv x f!reader

You find Copia in the library, in hopes of apologizing.

VIII Strength - @anamelessfool - gn!reader

VIII STRENGTH Strength (Physical and Will), courage, persuasion, influence, compassion Copia is a pent up sort of man, he always has been. He enjoys being Papa but on his worst days the title has a near physical weight pressed across his shoulders. He comes home to you, and you can tell when it's been one of those days. Luckily, he has you to guide him.

Forbidden Fruit - @ink-and-dagger - papa iv x f!reader

It's a pleasant surprise to stumble upon the newly ordained Papa Emeritus IV browsing through the library stacks. Even more pleasant that he happens to be halfway up a rolling ladder, and wearing one of his sinfully tight suits. What better opportunity to give Copia's cakes the attention they deserve. Or No snakes needed to convince you to take a bite out of this apple.

Forever Yours - @sweatandwoe - papa iv x gn!reader

Ever since you had entered into a relationship with him, you had learned three strict rules about Copia. One, he did not like to be tickled in any situation. Two, he always had to have a drink after sex. Three, the make-up stayed on. The first two were easy to follow but the third though, was getting harder to try not to bend.

Worship - @copiasjuicebox - papa iv x transmasc!reader

Tumblr Request: trans!copia worshipping your body after your t shots have had time to work. he understands how to worship your body properly bc he’s been through the transition, he gets it.

on leather wings - @ghostchems - papa iv x f!reader

copia surprises you with a spooky weekend getaway, culminating in some winged bedroom time

Papa IV x Ghouls

tumblr ficlet - @st-danger - papa iv x dewdrop

"Papa," Dew murmurs, and Copia feels a tremor move through him; there's a particular voice Dewdrop uses when he wants something. Silky and dark and slow. A drawl. It's what he's using now, and he hasn't the ability to deny him anything. And if Dewdrop is about to angle for a little action, backstage and hurried with Copia in his papal robes- well. It'd be sinful, of course. And it would be wrong to not take advantage of that, right?

What's My Name? - @copiasjuicebox - papa iv x swiss

"Why don't you ask me how I'm doing?" in which, the audience doesn't refer to Papa as "Papa" and it strikes a chord.

And You Know That It Takes Two - @forlorn-crows - papa iv x dewdrop

“Well, I do. Of course I do,” he assures the ghoul. “Quite fond of you all, actually. It was, admittedly, a little rocky when we first met. But.” There’s that heh Dew was expecting just moments before. “Here we are, no?” When Copia starts rubbing his thumb up and down the inside of his knee, Dew’s brain stops working. His gaze zeros in to the fingers splayed across the side of his thigh, so foreign, so bare, so pink against the black of his casual uniform pants. His mind is full of static and all he can hear is his own blood pumping through his head. But there’s a weird something tugging in his ribcage; something new yet old, unnamed but familiar.

tumblr ficlet - @littlemoon-beam - papa iv x dewdrop

He can't look away from his hands, the way the veins flex under his skin as he expertly plays. Copia hears his own shuddering breath, wishing he could feel them on his skin even if only for a moment. He'd worship every fingertip if given half the chance. What really gets him though, what makes his chest tight and his stomach twist, is when he finishes and smiles, head tilted and eyes bright. "Was that ok, Papa?"

Changing of the Seasons - @kissingghouls - papa iv x cirrus

Cirrus and Copia share an umbrella on a rainy day.

𖤐 you know the drill--bookmark, read, and leave kudos/comments!

Did I forget your favorite? You've got a standing invitation from me to add your own rec and reblog ♡

#my fic recs #fic rec friday #the band ghost fanfiction #the band ghost #papa emeritus iv #copia #swiss ghoul #cirrus ghoulette #dewdrop ghoul #queued post

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bellaxgiornata · 1 year

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Falling For the Devil [Part nine: "The Pool Game"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have a second impromptu date with Matt at Josie's playing pool. Later, Daredevil pays you a visit.

The time Daredevil gives you a hand. Yes, like that.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut (like...a lot of it later in the series), language, some violence

Word Count: 5.8k

a/n: Ahhh, welcome to our first smupdate, friends! There's quite a few later on in this series that I've just taken to calling my smut installments smupdates. You can find the list of installments for all of these currently posted to tumblr here. Otherwise, enjoy the smupdate...

"I have no idea how to actually play," you admitted, eyeing the pool cue in your hands. "I usually just watch you kick Foggy's ass."

Matt's shoulder bumped yours, his beer halfway to his mouth as he said, "I'll show you. You just have to help me a bit."

You watched as he took a drink of his beer, your eyes lingering on his mouth in the dim light of Josie’s even as the bottle came away from his lips. It had been a week since you'd briefly kissed those lips after your first date. Not that you were keeping track or anything.

Tonight it was just you and Matt at Josie’s; Marci and Foggy had a few days left of their honeymoon and Karen was apparently too exhausted from the two weeks of making up for the excess workload with Foggy gone to want to stay out for a drink. And that was how you'd found yourself on a second impromptu date with Matt. He'd shown up at The Bulletin just before he knew you got off work and had asked you if you'd like to join him for a few drinks. Obviously you'd said yes.

And now you were standing beside the pool table at Josie’s, Matt having walked you through racking the balls as you nervously downed your third beer of the evening, a light buzz already dulling a bit of your nerves.

"I'll let you break," Matt said, head gesturing towards the table.

"That's about the only thing I understand how to do," you admitted, setting your beer on the table beside you.

Heading towards the pool table, you placed the cue ball onto it and lined the ball up with the first ball of the triangle. Awkwardly you lowered yourself over the table and tried to line up a shot with the long cue in your hand.

"How do you guys always make this look so easy?" you asked Matt, trying to find a comfortable way to hold the cue.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Matt set his beer onto the table beside yours. Your head turned in his direction and you saw him walking towards you with a grin, his hands pulling the dark glasses off and rewarding you with the unobstructed view of his handsome face.

"Let me help," he said.

His hands were on your hips the moment he reached you. You felt your heart jump in your chest instantly at the contact. You swallowed hard as his large hands gripped your hips, his fingers lightly digging into your pelvis as he gently turned your hips to the side, guiding you how he wanted you. You could feel the warmth of his hands through your dress pants and you felt embarrassed instantly for how he had just barely touched you but was somehow already working you up.

"Easier to stand like this," he told you, his voice suddenly huskier than it had been.

You felt him step in all the way behind you next, his hips and the tops of his thighs lightly pressing in against your ass before you felt his toned chest mold itself along your back. His arms wrapped around you, his hands sliding down your bare arms drawing goosebumps until his hands found the tops of your own. Your eyes snapped shut the moment his face appeared just over your right shoulder, abruptly becoming dizzy with him so close. He smelled good–just like that faint cologne of something warm mixed with pine he’d worn at the wedding.

"Hold it like this," he whispered, his hands working to readjust your hold on the cue. "You'll have better control with aiming this way."

You were barely paying attention, still too focused on trying to control your breathing with your eyes closed. Matt's head shifted beside you, his chin lightly resting along your shoulder now. You heard him whisper your name, his mouth so close to your ear that you could feel his hot breath brushing past the skin of your neck.

"Yeah?" you breathed out.

"You're going to have to open your eyes," he teased, a hint of laughter in his voice. "We can't both be blind for this game."

Nervously you licked your lips, your eyes fluttering open. Turning your head just a bit you could see how close Matt's face was to yours now, could see the way he was shooting you that fond, affectionate gaze he often sent your way, though this time it was tinged with a hint of amusement. You felt a nervous jolt shoot through you and you turned your attention back to the pool table.

"I'm beginning to think," you said slowly, your focus very much on Matt's mouth out of your peripheral, "that you suggested we play pool solely so you could do this and intentionally get me flustered."

"I don't know what you're talking about, sweetheart," he responded coyly. "I just thought you might enjoy learning how to play pool."

"Uh huh," you mumbled.

Matt chuckled as he released you, your body becoming colder at the absence of him wrapped around you.

"I'll stop distracting you and let you break on your own," he said, taking a few steps back.

You forced yourself to focus on the pool table before you and not Matt's hard to ignore presence nearby. Slowly pulling the cue back in your hands, you clumsily shot it forward. The cue ball smacked into the balls with a loud clatter, the balls scattering around the table. You weren’t remotely surprised when nothing went into a pocket.

"This is going to be the easiest game you've ever won," you told Matt, pushing away from the table and righting yourself.

"And yet somehow," he began, resting his pool cue against his body as his hands began rolling up his dress shirt sleeves, your eyes glued to the slow reveal of his muscled forearms, "it'll be the most enjoyable game I've ever played."

Your focus was on the dark hairs along his arms and his noticeable veins as he rolled up his other sleeve. Trying to control your body so Matt wouldn't realize just how much you were reacting to a bit of skin, you wondered if there was anything about this man that wasn't mind-numbingly attractive.

You were pretty sure there wasn't.

"See something you like?"

Your eyes widened as they snapped back up to Matt's smirking face, his gaze fixed on your chest, his head tilting to the side. No doubt listening to the traitorous beat of your heart. You cleared your throat, realizing he'd caught you staring despite your attempts to remain calm.

"That's not fair that not only do you have an effect on me," you said, heading back towards the table your beer was on, "but that you can also tell that you do. Meanwhile, I'm just awkward and have zero effect on you." You grabbed your beer, bringing it towards your mouth as you added, "Though I suppose I at least don't need heightened senses to know your heart isn't racing because of me."

Matt's brows shot up onto his forehead in surprise. "You think you have no effect on me?" he asked.

You swallowed down the beer and headed back towards Matt at the pool table, grabbing his wrist carefully and leading him towards the opposite side of the table to where the cue ball had ended up. You scoffed in response to the question, reaching both of your hands out to place his on the white ball.

"Cue ball is here," you told him, not offering him any other answer. "You want a rundown of the table or…?"

He shook his head lightly as you released your hold on his hand. "No," he told you. "Marci isn't here, I can tell where everything is on the table for now so we don't need to keep up the pretense that I don’t. Until I pocket something."

You nodded, taking another pull of your beer. He could tell where the balls were on the table, but deciphering which was a solid or a stripe–or the eight ball–wasn't something he could do. You'd watched him play pool enough to generally know when his abilities were not able to help him, because he was still blind after all, but whenever Marci was around everyone would have to pretend he needed even more assistance since she didn't know about his heightened senses.

Matt's eyes focused on the table now, his head darting around a few times as one hand still lingered on the cue ball. You took another sip of your beer, curiously watching him scan the pool table however it was that he could. You'd always been impressed by how he did it. And then he bent over the table, lining up the cue stick with the white ball and aiming for his shot. Inevitably your eyes dipped down, staring at the way his dress pants clung to his ass. You bit your bottom lip trying to tear your eyes away from the sight but they kept returning.

"For the record," Matt called back to you, "you do have an effect on me."

Your eyes narrowed curiously as he pulled the cue back before abruptly snapping it forward. The white ball barreled forward along the table, smacking into the blue two and sinking it straight into the pocket beside it.

"You’re solids," you called out to him, crossing the couple of steps towards him.

You reached out, your hand grabbing onto his wrist with every intention of guiding him towards the cue ball for his next shot, but his hand twisted around in your hold until he was grabbing your wrist. His hip gently pushed forward into yours until he had spun you so your back was to the pool table, the top of the table cutting into your lower back as you emitted a soft gasp of surprise. He was pinning your free hand to the edge of the table now, his other hand reaching out to rest his cue against the side of it. His free hand then made its way towards your right hand still holding your beer. Your eyes were locked on his the entire time, noting how his gaze remained fixed along your collarbone, his jaw clenched tight. His hand slowly slipped the beer from yours, setting it on the edge of the pool table before he carefully took your hand in his, gradually guiding it up to rest on his chest just above his heart.

Your gaze dropped down to where your hand was splayed wide over the blue dress shirt, his large hand encircling your wrist. He leaned in towards you, the tip of his nose so close it almost touched your own. He whispered your name, the sound causing your nails to lighty dig into his chest instantly. That’s when you noticed the uptick in Matt’s heart beneath your hand. Your breathing almost stuttered to a stop at the observation.

“You most definitely have an effect on me,” he murmured.

You felt dizzy. Between the alcohol in your system and the fact that he was only mere centimeters from you, along with the realization that you were in fact increasing his heart rate, you felt like the room was spinning. Your eyes traveled up to where his lips were so close to your own, a small shiver racing down your spine. You were contemplating closing the small gap between you two and kissing him, but then his hand released your wrist and he stepped back, no longer pressing you into the pool table. Standing there, you took a moment to recover, inhaling a couple of deep breaths as Matt grinned back at you.

“So,” Matt said, reaching over and grabbing his cue, “you want to show me where the cue ball is and give me a rundown of the table now?”

“I–uh, yeah,” you agreed.

Blinking hard, you gently pushed off of the pool table and turned, grabbing your beer in one hand before heading back towards Matt. He had a cocky smirk on his face as you reached out and took his arm, leading him to the other side of the pool table still slightly dazed. Once again you guided his hand to the cue ball and then gave him a quick breakdown of where everything was located on the table. You stepped back to let him take his shot, your mind still reeling at the fact that you actually got his heart pounding. Taking a drink of your beer, you swallowed down the alcohol hoping it would help calm your increasing nerves.

“You said you’re watching your nephew tomorrow?” Matt asked, his focus on lining up his shot.

His voice brought you back to the present, breaking you out of your thoughts.

You cleared your throat, your mouth feeling dry despite the beer. “Yeah, my uh, my sister has an appointment and her usual sitter is unavailable so Hudson is spending the afternoon with me,” you answered.

Matt took his shot, the cue ball smacking into a stripe that went flying off of a bumper and knocked the solid five into the middle left pocket. By this point you’d watched Matt play pool enough to not be too surprised, but that didn’t mean you weren’t still impressed.

He turned around, grinning at you as you stepped forward, grabbing his wrist and bringing him to the end of the pool table where the cue ball was sitting. You gave him the usual briefing of the table before pointing him to the cue ball and stepping back.

“You seemed like you were looking forward to that,” he mused, his focus on the game.

“Yeah,” you agreed, smiling. “Hudson is probably the wackiest three year old I’ve ever met. He’s obsessed with this Christmas dog movie right now. Pretty sure Amber said he’s watched it every evening for the past two and a half weeks now.”

Matt paused, shooting you a curious smile over his shoulder. “But it’s July…?”

You laughed, nodding your head. “Yes, it is. But you try telling him that,” you said. “When he gets into something, he really gets into something. He told me he wants to celebrate Christmas tomorrow so I’m digging this two foot tree out of my closet for him to decorate. Amber will probably hate me because he’ll probably want her to get her decorations out, but eh,” you said with a shrug. “She can consider it payback for embarrassing me at last year’s Thanksgiving. That’s what sisters are for anyway.”

Matt eyed you for a moment longer, an unreadable expression on his face that had one of your brows raising questioningly. And then he turned back and re-lined up his shot.

“What was that about?” you asked him.

“Hmm?” he asked distractedly.

“That look,” you said. “What was that look?”

“I just think it’s sweet how close you are with your family,” he said softly.

He pulled the cue back, striking it forward into the cue ball. It was no surprise when he pocketed the solid three. He pushed back off of the table and turned, shrugging lightly.

“I never really had that,” he admitted. “And my family holidays currently consist of being invited over to Foggy’s family parties ever since college. Before that, after my dad passed…I didn’t really have any of that.”

Your heart ached at the thought of sweet Matt longing to have family to celebrate and spend time with over the years growing up. Chewing the inside of your cheek, you crossed the space between the two of you. This time you grabbed his hand instead of his arm or wrist, intertwining your fingers with his and giving him a gentle squeeze.

“Play your cards right, Murdock,” you whispered, “maybe you can watch Amber embarrass me at my family’s next Thanksgiving.”

The corner of his lip twitched upwards and he leaned forward, affectionately kissing the top of your head. Your smile grew wider at the gesture.

“I’d like that,” he whispered into your hair.

He pulled back and you led him to the opposite side of the pool table, cheeks burning. You reached your interlocked hands out and placed his on the cue ball, turning your head to Matt just at your back.

“At this rate you’re just playing this game by yourself,” you joked.

“I’ll miss this shot intentionally,” he told you. “So you can take a shot.”

You laughed lightly, shaking your head. “There’s really no point,” you said. “I don’t even stand a chance against you anyway.”

“Oh, there’s a point,” he whispered beside your ear. “It gives me an excuse to touch you again.”

Your cheeks flamed further as you ducked your head, releasing your hand from his. You nervously chewed your thumbnail as you gave him a breakdown of the table again and then stepped back, gnawing further on your nail as you watched him hit the cue ball. He didn't sink a solid, but he did suspiciously line a stripe up perfectly in front of the back left pocket for you.

"Your turn, sweetheart," he said, turning towards you with a grin.

Walking back to the table where Matt's long forgotten beer still sat, you set down yours beside it before grabbing your cue. Then you made your way to the middle of the pool table where the cue ball currently was and eyed the stripe near the back left of the table. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Matt making his way towards you.

"Would you like some assistance?" he asked, voice husky as he placed his cue against the table and out of your way.

"Who am I to deny your excuse to touch me?" you teased boldly.

He grinned mischievously, both of his brows rising up onto his forehead as he came up behind you and easily slipped his hands onto your waist. You felt his stubble scratch your neck lightly as he rubbed his cheek along your skin. A moment later you felt his warm lips place a kiss just over the pulse point on your throat. A soft sigh rolled out of your mouth and Matt’s fingers dug further into your pelvis, pushing your hips back into him behind you until your ass was tightly pressed into the front of him. His nose brushed the hair from beside your ear before you felt him place a kiss just below it, right at the base of your jaw. Your eyes instantly closed, your breath coming in unsteadily at the sensation. A nearly inaudible hum vibrated in your throat in response. He shifted just a bit until his lips were beside your ear.

“Who am I to deny your desire to have me touch you?” he whispered.

Your head rolled towards him, your brows pulling together as a faint whine left you. You whimpered his name as your hands rose up to cover his over your hips. His nose nuzzled into your neck, his mouth now lingering at the edge of your collarbone.

“You make such beautiful sounds,” he murmured into your skin. “I could spend all night listening to them and it still wouldn’t be enough.”

Your hands clamped down hard on top of his. You were incredibly turned on now standing in the middle of Josie’s; so much so that you were contemplating dragging him into the dirty bathroom or to the alley out back. Shit, you’d almost beg him to throw you over the pool table and tear off your stupid dress pants and fuck you senseless right here if only it would quell the growing, desperate raging need building inside of you. And he was barely doing anything–hardly touching you, barely kissing you, and whispering a few words. You didn’t understand how your body was this insanely worked up, craving him so fiercely that you’d started whimpering in his arms.

“But not tonight,” Matt whispered, pulling away from your neck. “I want you sober for that, sweetheart.”

Your teeth grit down hard, a sharp breath expelling from your nose. How were you supposed to finish out this pool game worked up like this?

His hands slipped out from underneath yours and he took a step back, clearing his throat loudly. You were trying to regain your composure as you glanced back over at him, slightly disappointed when you saw him slipping his glasses back on his face.

“Maybe I should–” he swallowed hard, taking a step back from you, “–walk you back home now. Before we uh, get a little too in over our heads here.”

With a defeated sigh you nodded, wondering what you’d done wrong. You made sure to down the rest of your beer before accepting Matt’s hand, the pool game completely forgotten now.

The couple block walk back to your apartment had been filled with sexual tension–at least on your end. Matt had tried his best to detract from that with conversation, but you couldn’t shake the lingering arousal and it was only made worse by the fact that you had known when you’d reached your apartment he’d give you a kiss and head on home.

Which is exactly what had happened.

And that meant that shortly after you’d gotten into your apartment and changed into comfortable clothes, even truly trying to calm yourself down, you’d ended up in your bedroom. On your bed. Touching yourself with one hand down your cotton shorts and underwear while thinking about Matt.

You were biting your lip, panting heavily thinking about the way he’d gripped your hips tonight. Your fingers were moving against yourself as you tried to recall the kiss in the hotel room, the image of his slightly tented sweatpants coming to mind. Moaning softly as you thought about the feel of his tongue in your mouth and the way his hips had rutted briefly into yours on the hotel bed. You were trying to imagine what that would have been like had you two both not been fully clothed.

You were getting worked up all over again recalling the pool game tonight, panting harder as you vaguely registered the sound of something in the other room. Your head was tipped back on your pillow, your eyes closed as you continued to finger yourself, wishing desperately that it was Matt’s cock inside of you instead of your own fingers.

That sound coming from the other room again broke through your thoughts and you briefly stopped, your hand pausing. It took your brain a few moments to realize what the sound was but when it did you let out a long, low groan of embarrassment, your hand sliding out of your shorts as you rolled over to bury your burning face into your pillow.

It was Matt knocking on your window, most likely dressed as Daredevil. And you were deadly certain he knew damn well what you’d just been doing with his damned heightened senses.

This was beyond embarrassing–this was absolutely mortifying.

“Nobody’s home,” you called out, voice muffled in your pillow.

A deep chuckle across your bedroom caused you to yelp and roll over, eyes wide as you saw Matt standing in the threshold with the red helmet in one of his hands. He was grinning devilishly down at you, his unfixed gaze focused on your chest.

“Oh my God, Matt!” you shouted. “You can’t just barge in on me!”

“The window was unlocked,” he said, still grinning at you in a way that had your temperature rising as he took a step into your room. “I was on my way out to do one of my usual patrols, and I usually stop by your place to make sure you’re okay,” he began, “which is what I normally do with Figueroa still out there. And I really try not to pay too much attention but I–" he bit his lip, his beautiful sightless eyes scanning you on the bed,"–I couldn't tune you out. And it sounded like you could…use a hand.”

You groaned again, rolling face first into your pillow. You would have to move out of state now. Change your name. Find a new hot guy to pine over and hope he eventually gave you the time of day. Because this was humiliating now.

“ This is officially the most embarrassed I’ve ever been,” you grumbled into the pillow.

Matt chuckled again and you felt the bed dip down, your eyes going wide against your pillow. Was he sitting on your bed now? What the hell was going on?

“You don’t need to be embarrassed, sweetheart,” he said. "Besides, in a minute I'll make it worth the initial near heart attack you're having."

You heard the faint sounds of metal snaps clicking and your brows furrowed. Hesitantly you shifted along the pillow so you could see what was going on. Matt was indeed sitting on the bed beside you, his Daredevil mask discarded on your bedroom floor, as he intently undid his gloves. Your eyes narrowed as you watched him, your face still flushed.

“What are you doing?” you asked him cautiously.

“Well,” he said, pulling off the last glove on his hand, “clearly I started something earlier with you that I didn't finish."

He tossed the glove onto your bedroom floor as he turned towards you, the look on his face causing you to sink further into the bed. He looked like he was going to eat you alive.

"And right now I'd really like to help you finish," he whispered.

One of his hands reached out towards you, landing along your bare thigh, just above your knee. You couldn't control the shudder that ran through your body. A moment ago you'd been embarrassed, but right now you had quickly shifted back to nervous and aroused.

"Would you like that?" he asked huskily.

Swallowing hard, you nodded slowly. "Yes," you breathed out.

He shifted along the bed until he was beside you, leaning up against your headboard. His hands reached out and pulled you towards him as he muttered, "come here," briefly.

You found yourself soon sitting in between his red and black Devil suit-clad legs, your back to his muscled chest with your legs spread slightly between his. His face was hovering just above your right shoulder, his mouth placing gentle kisses on the skin beside it.

Gradually his right hand snaked its way down your stomach towards the top of your shorts while his left hand was sliding its way under your shirt, resting on the skin just below your bralette. His fingers briefly dipped down beneath the waistband of your shorts and your breathing quickly increased.

“Were you thinking about me?” Matt asked beside your ear, the fingers of his right hand grazing over the damp underwear covering your mound. “Touching yourself while thinking of me?”

“Yes,” you whispered automatically, feeling lightheaded.

He inhaled sharply beside your ear, the sound drawing goosebumps over your skin. "So wet just thinking about me, hmm?" he murmured, his hand slipping down into your underwear next.

His mouth placed a kiss along your neck and your eyes fluttered closed. You could feel two of his thick fingers slipping between your moist folds and you bit your lip. His fingers slid back and forth a few passes between the slick of you and you whined.

"I think I can get you wetter," he whispered.

The pad of his middle finger began gently drawing circles along your clit, your head immediately dropping backwards onto Matt's armored shoulder behind you. His left hand tucked itself underneath the thin fabric of your bralette, his hand cupping the entirety of your left breast. The warmth of him had your nipple stiffening into a peak in his palm.

"Matt," you moaned his name.

Your brain was no longer even able to remember how he'd just found you. The recent embarrassment was long forgotten under the ministrations of his hands. And damn if he didn't know how to use them.

"That's it, sweetheart," he praised. "Let me take care of you."

Your hips squirmed against him, his finger drawing faster patterns on your clit. A deep moan was building in your throat when you felt his fingers lightly pinching your nipple. Your head turned towards him on his shoulder, your eyes half-lidded as they took in the sight of him beside you. His dark brows were creased together, a look of pleasure on his own face as he focused on getting you off. No doubt listening to the sounds your body was making, which you'd already learned were a turn on for him.

That low moan that had been building inside of you abruptly vibrated its way out of your throat at the sight of him. He was beautiful with that slightly blissed out look on his face, and at the sound of your moan, his brows pinched together just a bit more, his eyes snapping shut. That had your pulse racing and your orgasm approaching. He was enjoying this. A lot .

Hesitantly your right hand reached up towards his face, tentatively cupping his stubbled cheek. His eyes flew open again, his gaze landing on you. You saw his dark brows raise onto his forehead in a silent question. You bit your lip, suddenly feeling shy despite the fact that Matt had one hand down your underwear circling your clit and the other playing with the nipple of your right breast.

Carefully you leaned in towards him, desperately wanting to kiss him but too shy to just say so. You lightly brushed your lips against his, silently begging him to kiss you. As if he understood the question, his mouth softly connected itself to yours. Immediately you kissed him with an urgent need in return, the hand not cupping his cheek landing on the top of his thigh beside you, gripping the thick muscle of his leg through the strange material of his suit.

His hand slipped out of your bralette, making its way down your body and into your underwear, skirting around his other hand, the palm of which was lightly pressing down on your pelvis now as his middle finger continued its maddeningly delicious movements on your clit. You felt one of his fingers on his left hand tease the entrance of your slickened slit, a rumble in his chest vibrating against your back when he realized how wet you were. A second later you felt one of his thick fingers dip inside you, your mouth momentarily going slack as a moan fell out of you. Matt took that opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, the soft, languid movements of it soon drawing high, breathy whines from you.

Your hand dug into the strange armor on his thigh even harder, that lightheaded sensation growing as you chased further after your climax. He slipped a second finger inside of you next, both fingers pumping rapidly now. As your hips began moving with the thrusts of Matt’s fingers, breathy whines becoming needy whimpers, Matt’s mouth turned its attention on your earlobe. He nipped lightly along the skin, your body shuddering against his which only further encouraged him.

“I can feel how close you are,” he whispered into your ear. “You’re right there, sweetheart.”

The sound of his voice had your cunt tightening around the fingers he was still determinedly fucking you with. You were close; between the movements of his finger along your clit, the way his two fingers were hitting just the right spot in you over and over, and the feel of his tongue gliding along the shell of your ear, his sharp breaths amplified–you were about to cum.

“Ma-att,” you whimpered his name, drawing it out into two syllables.

“Let go for me,” he purred into your ear.

And you did.

With a sharp cry, your head rolling even further back on his shoulder and your back arching, you came hard on his fingers. His hands continued their attentive movements, working you through the orgasm that quickly had you shaking in his arms. They didn’t stop until the fluttering of your inner walls stopped squeezing so tight to his fingers. Slowly he slipped them out of you, both of his hands making their way back out of your underwear.

You were breathing hard, eyes closed as your head was half hanging off of his shoulder. Your mind was utterly blank, completely devoid of all thoughts as you tried to recover from the mind-shattering orgasm he’d given you with just his hands.

Eventually, as he shifted a little behind you, you realized what had just happened, your head darting up from his shoulder and your nerves quickly flooding back.

Matt had caught you masturbating to thoughts of him and then you’d just gotten off very loudly to him fingering you. Your hands flew up to your face in awkward embarrassment–why the hell had you agreed to just let him get you off after barging in on you like that? Had you really been that horny?

“What’s with the fight or flight response this time?” Matt asked, his tone amused beside your ear.

“You just caught me in a private moment and then did…all of that,” you muttered into your hands.

“All of which was very hot,” he mused.

That was when you noticed the faint bulge pressing against your ass. Was he hard right now?

Your hands fell from your face and you glanced back at him. Your eyes widened as you saw him smirking back at you, popping the two fingers he’d just fucked you with into his mouth. His eyes momentarily closed as he sucked the slick of your arousal from his fingers, your jaw momentarily dropping in shock. And then he pulled the two fingers back out, his eyes opening as an amused smile played along his lips.

“You taste pretty damn good, too,” he told you.

You felt your heart slam hard into your chest before it began rapidly pounding at his words–from nerves or from a second wave of arousal, you weren’t entirely sure. Matt chuckled lightly though, the sound rumbling against your back that was still against his chest.

“I can only imagine the reaction your body is going to have when we finally have sex,” he teased, “if this is how it reacts to just my fingers.”

With a groan, your head fell back against his shoulder. “You’re going to be the death of me, Matthew Murdock.”

“Mmm,” he hummed, his face burying itself against your exposed neck. “I certainly hope that’s not the reaction your body has to me fucking you, sweetheart.”

“Oh my God ,” you groaned, trying to hide behind your hands yet again.

Matt chuckled, a smile forming on his lips along the skin of your neck.

You were pretty sure sex with Matthew Murdock probably was going to kill you.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x fem reader #matt murdock fic #matt murdock series #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock smut #daredevil x reader #daredevil x female reader

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azrielwingspan · 3 months

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DISTRACTIONS (AZRIEL X OC)- PART 1

Distractions is a collection of short stories whose main characters are Azriel and Nyra (OC).

It's established that there is some heavy tension between them (everyone suspects lol) and I decided to put into words a few visualizations I've had of the both of them just pining for each other, playing hard to get, flirting, a bit of angst, some fluff and overall just being HELLA CUTE OKAY.

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Here is PART 1 !!!

Summary :

The IC , Nyra and a couple of mutual friends decide to stay in for a night and celebrate the success of one of their more important missions. A bit of alcohol and a cozy setting can do wonders.

Warnings: Nothing major. Lots of drinking, fluff if you squint your eyes.

"Okay, bring out the expensive wine. I'm sick of whatever crap this is." Cassian said making a disgusted face at the glass of wine in his hand. Nesta, curled up by his side on the love seat in front of the fireplace , smirked at him over the rim of her peppermint teacup.

"That would've been possible.." drawled Rhys from the wingback chair adjacent to the fireplace "if you hadn't made it your life goal to rid my wine cellar of it's most expensive occupants."

A few chuckles rose around the room and Cassian scowled , halfheartedly taking a sip from the crap wine in his hand.

Despite the lack of good wine, everyone was in good spirits that day. The parlor in Rhysand's and Feyre's Riverhouse was occupied by their closest group of friends who were finally able to let loose after weeks of intense work. The fireplace cast a cozy glow over the dark wood furniture with emerald green accents and provided a warm embrace against the frigid rain lashing against the windows.

The smell of alcohol , rain and smoky cedar mixed in with the quiet chattering of the occupants , sometimes interrupted by a boisterous laugh set everyone's senses at ease and lulled them into comfort.

"I heard the party started without me."

Heads whipped towards the doorway of the parlor where Nyra stood grinning with her hands behind her back. Dressed in a gold satin dress with dark hair in a braid, her green eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Well..." said Nicolai, her best friend since childhood, "you are two hours late." He glanced at the clock placed on the mantel above the fireplace.

"I am aware. Which is whyyyy..." Nyra brought her hands forward showing everyone the two bottles of tequila she'd managed to buy before showing up.

Cheers erupted through the room, Cassian nearly jumping out his seat. Mor tackled her in a hug saying "Thank the Cauldron. I was ready to fall asleep."

She was pulled into the room , bottles taken out of her hand and replaced with shot glasses. A grin was etched onto her face as everyone assembled near the fire place to take their first shots together.

Nyra was trying very hard. She really was. She was putting every ounce of her willpower towards not looking at the male at the periphery of her vision. Being in the same room as him was enough to make her heart stutter and set off a swarm of butterflies in her stomach. Her body was attuned to his every movement and he was the first thing her mind directed her to in any room.

She would've gone straight to him and spent the entire evening by his side but this thing between them was becoming too evident. She would be asked questions that she didn't have an answer to. She wasn't ready to face that. Not yet. Perhaps she was a coward but she didn't want to face that either. That's how she had survived for so long and she wasn't keen on facing those parts of her anytime soon. There were more important things to focus on.

"To us. The dreamers and conquerors." Rhys raised his shot glass in the air and everyone followed him. Once the shots were downed, a few coughs erupting as the burn of the alcohol kicked in, Nyra made her way through the crowd talking to everyone she knew.

She would speak to him last. She could spend the most time with him. She almost rolled her eyes at her own thoughts and tried to focus on her companions words. She'd sneaked a peek at him because she couldn't help herself and her stomach lurched at how devastatingly handsome he looked. Wearing a simple black shirt unbuttoned at the top , the firelight falling across half his face making the deep tan of his skin glow against the stark contrast of his shadows, hazel eyes that were glazed from the alcohol he had consumed, he looked ravishing good. He stood near the chest of drawers, an elbow placed on the surface of the chest lazily while the other hand held his glass of...whisky. She would know for sure if she kissed him.

She had immediately turned away , not trusting herself to stop staring if she started and tried to give her undivided attention to her companion. She might have zoned out on his face multiple times because he seemed to take the hint and end the conversation before she made a bigger fool of herself.

"NYRA!" Feyre called from the other side of the room, where she was perched on the chair that Rhys occupied. She made her way to Feyre all the while being aware of the set of hazel eyes that trailed her.

Don't look. Don't look. Don't you dare.

Successfully making it without tripping on her dress or making lovesick eyes at a certain male, she listened to Feyre update her on what had happened in her absence. A couple more shots and drinks were consumed during their gossip session with Mor. Nyra had reached a point where she let out a laugh at every single thing that came out of Feyre's mouth. That tequila had done its job too well. She'd forgotten how many shots she had until that point but judging by the lightness in her head and the slight spin around her , she had enough.

Realizing it was time to sit down before she split her head on the floor, she turned around looking for an empty seat. She found one at the other end of the parlor but it didn't look as enticing as the chaise lounge chair where Azriel was seated speaking to another male. There's just enough space for her to squeeze in. She'd reached a point where her intrusive thoughts couldn't be ignored anymore.

Letting her alcohol addled mind take over, she excused herself from the fizzing out gossip session and made her way over to Azriel. His eyes shot to her the moment she moved, making her think that he'd been keeping note of where she was the entire night. Her heart pounded harder with that thought and she forced herself to breathe normally. Hazel eyes finally clashed with hers and she couldn't help that child like joy that lit up her face. She wasn't this bad during her teenage years either ugh. What had this male done to her?

A small smirk curled his lips while his eyes shone with amusement. The bastard had known. He'd known that she was trying to avoid speaking with him till now. He had known and he had waited for her to come to him because Azriel knew that she couldn't fucking stay away.

She tried not to fidget under the intense gaze that he had fixated on her as she walked towards him. The male he was speaking to rattled on and Azriel interrupted him muttering in a low tone all the while not taking his eyes off of her. Nyra didn't know if it was the alcohol causing the heat to flush her face or if it was something else. Someone else. The male he was talking to found elsewhere to be.

"Hi." she whispered looking down at him and trying to control the whirlwind in her mind. "Hi." he whispered back looking up at her , his eyes holding promises of things she didn't let herself wonder about. He shifted on the seat hinting at her to sit down.

Maneuvering herself around a table, she fit herself into the space next to him trying not to sigh in content at the immediate cocoon of warmth that enveloped her. His scent invaded her senses and seemed to be more potent than the alcohol she had. The entire room seemed to vanish when it was just the both of them and she grateful that they were seated in a dark corner of the room.

"I think you're going a little cross eyed there." Azriel said throwing an arm behind her on the couch. She wanted to lean into him until there was no space left in between. "I think I see two of you." Double the fun.

He let out a raspy laugh that set shivers running down her back. They were so close but not close enough. His shadows faded into the darkness behind leaving the both of them blanketed in glimmers of firelight running across their skin.

"And here I thought avoiding one of me was a hard task for you." he said , eyes shimmering gold in the firelight.

"Not that hard truly. I just have to keep away from dark corners."

"Corners like this?"

"Exactly like this."

"And yet here you are."

"You seemed desperate to talk to me. So I decided to put you out of your misery."

"Did I now?"

"Oh yes you did."

"Well thankyou for putting me out of my misery, Nyra." He had a wonderful way of saying her name. The R came out with a trill, a habit he had picked up from her as a way of mocking her.

"You're welcome Shadowsinger. I do need a favor in return though." she said bringing up the glass of whatever was in there upto her lips while keeping her eyes glued to him.

"Favour?" he asked ,eyes trailing the movement of the glass to her lips. She might have taken an unnaturally long sip to keep his eyes trained on her mouth.

"Yes." she said breathily watching his eyes flick back to her.

Too far. This was going too far and too fast.

Clearing her throat she said "I demand to be taken to the pastry shop that everyone here seems to rave about. If there's anything to put me out of my misery, it's deliciously sweet pastries."

"Pastries? You know I've heard people say I can be deli--"

"Don't finish that sentence." she said fighting the laughter ready to erupt.

He raised his free hand in mock surrender and tipped back his glass of whisky. She could smell it now. A kiss could could confirm though.

She stole a glance at the tattoos peeking out of his shirt as he turned away from her to place the now empty glass on the floor beside them. He turned back towards her stunning her with the intensity of his gaze.

"Do you want to go now?" he asked shifting himself into a more comfortable position. His arm continued to rest behind her.

"Now? It's the middle of the night."

"I know."

Nyra blinked once, the only indication of her confusion.

"I'm sure the baker would go beyond working hours to put a beautiful woman out of her misery. I've heard he's quite charming."

Nyra was sure that the heat rushing to her face was not the alcohol this time. It was such a cheesy line and yet she almost fanned herself to get rid of the red staining her cheeks.

Azriel who never missed anything especially when it came to her, laughed quietly earning a smack on the arm.

“I think you’ve had enough to drink for tonight.” Nyra said trying to collect herself.

“I think I need more now that you’re here.”

“Funny. I was thinking the exact same thing.”

“I think every male requires a bit of liquid courage to be around you.”

“Am I that torturous?”

“You’re resplendent.”

“Is that your new word of the week?”

“One of the many for you.”

“Why Az, if I didn’t know better I’d think you were trying to charm me.”

“You don’t know better then.”

Nyra shut her mouth not knowing what to say. Azriel was much more talkative today. The alcohol had loosened him up and they were crossing into dangerous territory. Nyra would be lying if she told herself she wasn’t getting a rush from it.

“Charmed?” He asked breaking into her thoughts. They’d leaned a little closer to each other in the past few minutes. She was able to smell the heady mix of alcohol and cedar on him that muddled up her brain.

Maybe it was the sudden surge of confidence due to the alcohol or maybe it was the way Azriel was looking at her that made her want to play along.

She leaned even closer , stopping an inch from his face and let her breath wash over his lips as she said “You have to try much harder than that, Shadowsinger.”

His eyes flashed with surprise and desire. They’d never gotten this close to each other before. They really were cartwheeling across the invisible lines they had drawn for themselves today.

A grin broke out on his face sparking something in her chest that made her feel content. He was beautiful. She wanted him.

“I like a bit of a challenge. Things were starting to get boring around here.” He said as his eyes roved over her face as if he were trying to memorise every inch of her.

“Is that what I am? A challenge?” she questioned letting her free hand trace the markings on the ring he wore. She felt him stiffen beneath her touch and felt an absurd amount of satisfaction.

“An enigma.”

“Another word for me?”

“Only for you.”

Her mouth went dry at the stampede of emotions running through her causing her to wet her lips. Azriel attention honed in on that movement and her breath hitched at the predatory focus directed towards her.

After a beat of heavy silence, he gave her another lazy smile and moved away dropping his head back against the couch.

The firelight highlighted his onyx hair and she fisted her palms to stop herself from moving away a stray piece of hair from his face. She needed to leave. If this went any farther, she was reckless enough right now to cross a line they would never come back from.

As if hearing and agreeing with her thoughts, Azriel lifted his head and said to her “Get some sleep. I’ll take you to the pastry shop tomorrow morning. We’ll see how much of your misery can be taken care of.”

She tried to ignore the twinge of disappointment as he removed the hand from behind her. He was leaving. He paused his movements, suddenly studying her face intensely as if he were trying to decide on something.

The next thing she knew, a warm caress of lips touched her bare shoulder igniting a fire within her. Her head went silent, unable to process what just occurred.

“Good night.” His lips brushed the shell of her ear, his breath setting off goosebumps. Her entire body flushed with heat and before she could mutter her response, he left.

She saw him leave the parlor and realised that everyone had already left for the night. She hadn’t even noticed.

Pouring herself another glass of wine with her only companion being the soft pattering of rain against the windows , Nyra realised she was fucked .

Truly, utterly, completely fucked.

#azriel x oc #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #acotar series #acotar #cassian #nesta archeron #feyre archeron #rhysand #acomaf #acosf #azriel x original character #a court of thorns and roses

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raccoon-eyed-rebel · 9 months

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Don't knock it till you try it

Masterlist

Pairing: Syverson x reader x Walter Marshall (technically college AU. I needed to make the road trip scenario plausible.)

Summary: Your friends Walter and Sy have offered to drive you home for the summer, and you have decided to turn it into a nice relaxed camping trip on the way...

Word count: 9146 (yes, really...)

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI, fingering (vaginal, anal - f receiving), oral sex (f and m receiving), penetrative sex (vaginal, anal, DP - f receiving), masturbation (f), smug and dirty talking Sy, sex in a tent, hint of a size kink (blink and you miss it), silly bets, and an astonishingly solid bromance. I think that's all, but call me if I missed any.

A/N: I've finally really stopped hurting the boys and now we're just going for some nice relaxed sex in a goddamn tent, dammit! Also yeah I'm going to keep imagining the boys in college until the day I die, I don't know why (maybe because I'm young), but just... idk, read it as a memory or something? idk :')

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @ellethespaceunicorn @peaches1958 @sillyrabbit81 @peyton-warren @summersong69 @mayloma @livisss

You were not – by a long shot – the first girl to see the backseat of the beat-up chevy pickup you were sitting in. Fact. A fact so factual, in fact, that Sy hadn’t complained when you demanded he put a blanket down for you to sit on, which told you more than you really wanted to know.

Now, your eyes kept drifting shut to the sound of tires on asphalt and the bickering of soothing baritone voices in the front seat. The outside world consisted of mountain views and clear blue skies, and the fresh breeze of early summer that worked just hard enough to raise goosebumps on skin, but inside this rusty old vehicle the atmosphere was dominated by two pairs of broad shoulders, deep voices, and what you always mockingly referred to as ‘disgusting man sweat’ – always hoping neither of them would ever find out how often you dreamt of licking those salty droplets off their abs after a workout.

Both of them had shown up, first semester, in a class they didn’t have a prayer of passing, and you’d been teamed up with them because of what you then thought to be a hideous trick of fate. Somehow, you whipping them into shape for that tutorial hadn’t put them off you, and what started as whatever the educational equivalent of ‘frenemies’ is, turned into study buddies and eventually friends. The only downside to your friendship was that you chronically had to explain to your entire dorm that, no, you weren’t sleeping with either of them – let alone both of them.

As you still toed the line between asleep and awake, a heavy hand on your knee – belonging to Walter – made a decision for you in favor of consciousness.

“We’re hungry,” he said.

“You’re always hungry,” you grumbled as you reached for the bag of food and snacks on the other side of the backseat. It was a good thing they didn’t bother to deny it, because you would have strangled them both. God forbid you ever left a bag of Doritos out in your dorm. Seconds! Gone!

Sy had the stones to ask for a tuna sandwich. Absolutely the fuck not!

“I’m not opening that bag in this car, Sy.” It already smelled like stale beer and weed in there. Not in a bad way, but in a ‘you’re not allowed to smoke on campus, so this is our only option’ way. That said, adding tuna to the mix would be a complete disaster.

“Suit yourself,” he snapped. You rolled your eyes. For the love of God, it was all of ten minutes past feeding time! Walter snickered as he held out a hand. Turkey on wheat for Walter, BLT for Sy, mozzarella pesto for you. You’d splurged on groceries, because the boys had offered to take the lion’s share of the drive.

“We were thinkin’ of callin’ it a day soon, sugar.” They’d had morning classes, and you were falling asleep while on snack-duty… Plus, you’d agreed to just take it easy the whole drive. It was summer; there was no need to rush home.

Sy pulled off the highway, quickly ending the smooth, rhythmic hum of the tires on the road, until the asphalt finally made way for the crackling of gravel. Without Sy, you never would have found the campsite at which you pulled over. Camping ran through that guy’s veins, as you could tell from the impressive amount of camping gear in the bed of the pickup – all his.

Even though he helped you get out of the truck, you still lost your footing and stumbled into him, leaving Walter grinning to the side of the spectacle, commenting on your horrible clumsiness.

“Dunno,” Sy replied with a sly smile. “Guess she’s just fallin’ for me.” The cheesy joke made Walter stop dead in his tracks.

“I think that’s twenty-five,” he deadpanned, looking at you. In a less-than-sober state, somewhere in the past year, you had made a deal: if either of them managed to make that joke twenty-five times before the end of the year, you’d… Alright, let the records show that when you made that bet, you had been entirely convinced they’d never take you up on the offer to let them kiss you. But they had.

“You’re not gonna hold me to what I said back then, are you?” you asked in a small voice, your cheeks so hot you could probably fry an egg on them. The door of the truck slammed shut behind you, and Sy slowly stepped forward, forcing you to step back, until you were backed up against the truck, with him leaning over you – completely caged in between his solid body and the car.

“Deal’s a deal, sugar.” There was no trace of his usual grin, no hint of the mischievous glint in his eyes that normally told you he was kidding. He just came closer and closer as your eyes went wide – Walter did nothing. Jackass.

Not that kissing Sy was something you didn’t want. Oh no! In fact, it was something a fairly large part of you wanted so badly you thought you might burst. On some days, being close to either of them – let alone both – was torture, where your heart raced every time they came near you, and you unconsciously held your breath when they touched you… And while the guys just freely admitted to having sex dreams about you, you kept the little nugget of truth that you had similar dreams about them, tightly under wraps. Not because you thought they’d tease you about it, or anything, just… No, wait, actually that’s exactly why you didn’t tell them.

A few more seconds passed in which your heart tried its best to jump out of your chest.

“This isn’t funny, Sy,” you snapped on a sharp exhale when his mouth curled at the corners into that signature smirk you loved to hate. Finally able to gather your thoughts as well as your strength, you put your hands on his chest and pushed. It was a good thing he let you go, because if he had decided to stay put, you wouldn’t have stood a chance in hell.

“I want my kiss, sugar,” he called after you as you paced away to… alright, you didn’t actually know where you were going, but away, at least. “One way or another.”

As pissed – or confused – as you were, this was ‘the outdoors’ and therefore absolutely not the type of environment you were well equipped for in any kind of way, thus you decided it was best to stay close – within earshot, at least – to the boys. But they could take care of unpacking and pitching tents and whatever the fuck else needed doing.

“Hey.” Sy sat down next to you on the rock you had claimed, and put an arm around you. This was oddly comfortable, especially compared to the tense situation by the car, earlier. “I was messin’ with ya back there, you know that, right?” Whether it was to make a point, or simply because Walter wasn’t watching – or maybe because the threatening wall of man from before was now your familiar gentle giant again, you had no idea, but you impulsively reached for Sy and kissed him on the cheek. A low chuckle escaped him, and he pulled you closer.

“There’s a trail up to a waterfall we maybe wanted to check out, you in? Easy hike.” The good thing about hanging out with the guys was that they really considered your level of… adventurous ineptitude. If they suggested this hike, it meant they were at least medium convinced you could actually make it there and back in one piece – or that they could make it at least halfway with you on their backs.

The hike led up to a beautiful, clear river, and a spectacular waterfall. Between the smell of the woods, the sun comfortably warm on your skin, and the phenomenal view, this hike had been more than worth it – never mind that you were all sticky and sweaty from trying to keep up with the guys and their superhuman pace.

“On the way back, can we please remember that I have little legs?” you complained as you sank down onto the rock at the river bank the boys had selected to eat yet another sandwich on. Sy hummed, finally contently munching on the tuna sandwich you’d denied him in the car, and Walter laughed. You sat in silence while your friends ate their food, which meant the rock inevitably became too boring for your limited attention span.

What started off as a relatively sure-footed expedition over the rocks that stuck out of the water, inevitably ended with your very accurate portrayal of a soaking wet person regretting most – if not all – of their life choices. Sy sighed and rolled his eyes as he swallowed the last bite of his sandwich, taking his sweet time to get up and make his way over to you to fish you out of the water – which he then called ‘refreshing’ instead of ‘freezing fucking cold’. That didn’t improve your mood. Next, Walter had to dive for your phone – which, luckily, could swim, but was still going to be next to useless to you at the bottom of this far-deeper-than-anticipated vein of icy death.

Shivering, covered in goosebumps and with chattering teeth, you stood on the bank of the river.

“Take your shirt off,” Walter commanded, plucking his own off the dry rock.

“What?” you stammered, staring at him in disbelief. Now, that alone would have been just fine, if your eyes hadn’t dropped from his face to his chest. Small droplets of water dripped from his hair and beard onto his shoulders and chest and… somehow trickled down his body in slow motion. If they knew how much willpower it took to lift your eyes to his again, they would never let you live it down. Sy repeated his words from a distance – there went your excuse that Walter had just been talking too softly. Sy was still up to his knees in the river, unbothered by the cold, just hanging out there as if that water didn’t rival the fucking arctic ocean for temperature.

As you looked at him, he started to walk back to the riverside. The sun was starting to set, changing the light in a way that made it look like Sy, much like those fucking drops of water, was moving in slow motion, flecks of sunlight dancing over his skin… These guys were distracting enough when they were dry and dressed, but now that they were wet and half naked, with damp, coarse curls sticking to their chest and abs, catching the water that dripped down from their heads… These boys were fucking with your head. Big time.

“Sugar, take off your shirt, please,” Sy repeated when he stood next to you. “You’re freezin’, let’s get you a dry t-shirt, at least.” Oh. So, they weren’t putting the moves on you. Good to know. Hopefully, your exasperated sigh didn’t give away any of the disappointment you felt. With a little help from Walter, you lifted your soaking top over your head, not caring that they saw you in your bra until it was already too late. Sy used his t-shirt to dry you off a bit, before handing you Walter’s to put on. The whole time, they kept their eyes in decent places, and their hands didn’t wander anywhere they shouldn’t. Now, why did that make you feel sad?

“We should head back,” Walter said – mostly to Sy. The sun disappeared rather quickly, and without the heat from it, that dry t-shirt – save for the two tit-shaped wet spots where your soaked bra touched it – didn’t do much to keep you warm.

By the time you made it back to the campsite, you were shivering again. The walk had done next to nothing to warm you, and your still wet jean shorts chafed painfully against your thighs. Not to mention your thighs were starting to chafe painfully against your thighs. So, the first thing you did was disappear into the tiny single tent that was meant for you – as you had made it abundantly clear that sharing a tent with the boys was out of the question – and change into something dry, warm, and comfortable. The guys did the same, although – as it turns out – their version of ‘warm’ included no shirts. Did they ever get cold?

It was tough enough to keep your eyes off Sy in cargo shorts – although Walter in jeans was just as much of a sight for sore eyes – but now that it was getting dark, the sweats came out to play. You silently thanked Walter for his choice of black sweatpants, because keeping your thoughts out of the gutter was hard enough already. Sy was shamelessly sporting a pair of grey sweats, filling them out just about as nicely as humanly possible as he sat there, getting a fire started. The sly glances and that godforsaken smirk he flung your way from time to time told you that he was more than aware that you were checking him out.

The heat from the fire alone wasn’t enough to warm you up. Sy’s solution was tequila – which helped, but not quite enough, so Walter wrapped you in a blanket, pulling you close to his side as he ran his hands over your arms in an attempt to stop your shivering. At the same time, Sy inched closer, and before you knew it, four arms were wrapped around you.

Apart from being hot, proverbially, these guys were hot in the literal sense, too, warming you up slightly more effectively than the blanket around your shoulders and moderate amount of alcohol in your system. Still, the icy temperatures from the ground you were sitting on seeped into you without mercy. Of course, the boys took notice, both getting the same idea, and each grabbing one of your legs to try and pull you into their respective laps. Needless to say; it didn’t work, and you just ended up with spread legs, sitting between them on the floor. Sy had that twinkle in his eye, that smirk on his face that was dripping with confidence and indecency… You had to get out of there before he could speak!

As you scrambled to your feet, mumbling something about getting another blanket for yourself to sit on, you tripped and fell into Walter’s lap. Of course! You had been keeping score on that bet as well, and you knew you had come here – fucking camping – with both of the guys stuck on twenty-four counts of the same lame fucking joke… This was your fault, really.

To your surprise, however, Walter said nothing – instead, he smiled politely, pulling you into a more comfortable position in his lap.

“You’ve earned it,” you whispered, although you had absolutely no idea why. Maybe because it was the truth, maybe because you just wanted this bet to be over. Either way, it hurt you that he didn’t make the dumb joke, and asked to collect his reward the way Sy had. Hoping to get up before Walter looked into your eyes – where your thoughts were no doubt displayed for everyone to see – you made a move that was entirely too advanced for your mediocre balance and agility, and you crashed down again, this time falling harder than before. As Walter grunted, panic shot through you…

“Darling, I’d ask you if it hurt when you fell from heaven, but so far the only person who got hurt in that process, is me,” he blurted out in a strangled voice, while Sy was losing it next to you, howling from laughter.

Was it the booze? The fire? The tension from this afternoon? The fact that you were sitting in his lap, with his hands maybe a tad too low on your hips, but high enough to not rouse suspicion? Or maybe just your complete lack of self-control? Whatever it was, it caused you to move to straddle his thighs, and without thinking about it for so much as a second, you kissed him. If you’d had a sliver of hope before that Walter would break the kiss after an at least semi-decent amount of time, it was gone now, because the hand on your hip pulled you tighter against him, and his other hand tangled in your hair.

Walter kissed you. It took far more effort than you had ever expected to really let that sink in, but at the same time there was no way around it. He was kissing you, and it was eager, and rough, accompanied by ragged breaths and the occasional moan. It managed to make you forget everything around you. Everything except for Sy – mainly because he let out a pained grunt just as you were about to stick your tongue down Walter’s throat.

“I got a kiss on the cheek, man,” he groaned as he leaned in slightly on one elbow.

Now, if you had been thinking clearly, you would have laughed it off, gotten up and gone to bed. Safe to say, you were not thinking clearly.

Sy’s mouth felt just as good on yours as Walter’s had, with similarly soft lips, a similarly coarse beard scraping your skin, and a similar roughness to him that only wound you tighter. You moaned, your hips unconsciously grinding into Walter’s, his growing hard-on providing extra friction to soothe the ache between your legs. When you briefly opened your eyes to see if Sy was as involved in this as you were, you saw him palm his own erection through his sweats – casually adjusting its position before focusing on you again. In that moment – timed perfectly with a moan from Walter – something inside of you snapped.

“I’m going to bed,” you stuttered as you broke the kiss with Sy, at the same time scrambling to get to your feet – this time succeeding without falling into anyone, and making it to your own tent without a hitch. ‘

Now, if it had been a sober conversation, and it hadn’t been in the middle of nowhere without a sound to be heard for miles other than crickets, the occasional owl, and the crackling of the fire, at least half of it would have been inaudible from where you had pitched your tents. But the boys were too drunk, and their voices too deep and dark – the sound just traveled too far. You could have ignored them. You could have turned around, pulled your sleeping bag over your ears, and pretended to be asleep until it became the truth. Instead, you listened, sometimes straining to understand what they were saying.

“So, who do we say got her first?”

“I’m asking for a do-over.”

“Because it was me?”

“We could just… Y’know…”

“Think she’d go for it?”

“What, both of us? My ex did…”

“But she was nuts.”

“Hey! Okay, fair enough.”

Both of them? Both of them? As in… Separately? Or… Oh, what the fuck did it matter! The answer was yes.

What surprised you most about your thoughts was how completely unsurprised you were by them. Somehow, the idea of sleeping with both Sy and Walter felt as natural as could be, and left you not only stumped, but with another problem that needed tending to…

Without thinking, you slid your hand down your body, and into your sweatpants. Kissing the boys had definitely had its effect on you, you had known that as soon as it had happened, but the extent of the mess between your thighs was still quite surprising. Somehow, tasting both of them, followed by your eavesdropping, had made you dripping wet and craving something more than just your fingers. Unfortunately, they’d have to do.

You thought of that first kiss with Walter, then the one with Sy, then wondered what it would feel like to have those beards scratch the skin of your neck, slowly making their way down to your chest. Would they lick? Bite? Moan? You pictured Sy, eagerly making his way further down, while Walter kept his attention on your chest. Would he be as quiet as he always was? Was Sy as loud as you imagined him to be?

There were so many things to wonder about, besides the obvious size question, that the thoughts consumed you completely as you worked yourself up to your peak. So completely, in fact, that you didn’t hear the guys return to the tents – just as you squealed from pleasure while you came. Hard.

“Fuck, sugar,” Sy said from outside. Walter warned him to stop talking, but he didn’t listen. “Tell me if you want any help.”

It was tempting to say ‘yes’. It was tempting to crawl into that tent and tell them you had heard everything they said by the fire. It was tempting to offer yourself up on a silver platter, hoping they’d make good on their promises from before by fucking the life out of you. But things that are tempting can also still be difficult, so you did nothing. Well, nothing… If ‘dying of embarrassment’ counts as ‘something’, you were definitely not doing nothing.

The sound of your own teeth chattering prevented you from falling asleep, even though you could hardly keep your eyes open. And who knew goosebumps could hurt like this? The boys had warned you beforehand that it would get cold at night, and you’d even told Sy what you had planned on wearing as pajamas, and he’d said you’d be good. Well, you weren’t good. You were covered from head to toe, and you were not – by any definition of the word – ‘good’.

As hard and painful as it was to just lay there and freeze, it was harder to get up, worm your double-socked feet into your sneakers and get out of your tent. Outside, it was pitch black, and the dim light of your phone was barely enough to prevent you from falling flat on your face. You had to credit the boys with their incredible foresight to keep the path from your tent to theirs free of tripping hazards – something you were so delighted in at that moment that you forgot to question whether or not there was some sort of ploy, or whatever in place. Lewd scheme or not, you were glad to make it without a hitch.

“Eh, guys?” you whispered after zipping open the tent and poking your head in.

“Hm? What?” It was Walter – and from Sy’s continued snoring, you deduced that you shouldn’t wait for him to answer; he wasn’t waking up.

“I’m really fucking cold,” you admitted reluctantly. That seemed to wake Walter up a little more…

“Cold? You could go on an expedition to the north pole dressed the way you are!” The sleep-drunk slur of his voice was… adorable, in a way. To his left – no, his right… To his left from where you were standing? The left side of the air-mattress they were on when you looked at it, standing at the foot of the bed, the right side if you were actually lying in… oh for fuck’s sake! Next to him, Sy groaned and turned – although you couldn’t see any of that, because it was very dark.

“The fuck is going on?” he grunted, his voice gravelly and dark – which did a good job of making your knees weak.

“She’s cold,” Walter replied dryly.

“There’s no way,” Sy said in disbelief, “she’s dressed for winter in Alaska.”

“If you two are done mocking me, I’m actually freezing my ass off out here. Do you have an extra blanket or something?” you snapped.

“Sugar, we’re not even wearin’ shirts,” Sy said, his voice steadier now that he was waking up.

“Great, so you put on a shirt, and I’ll take your sleeping bag.” It was a shame they couldn’t see you roll your eyes, but the snippy tone would surely get your point across.

“Or you could just come here, love,” Walter said all of a sudden. There was rustling in the tent and then a dim red light over your heads turned on.

“Interesting choice…” you started, but Walter and Sy chuckled.

“It’s easier on your eyes, sugar.” Shit, Sy was easy on your eyes, god damn. He hadn’t been lying when he’d said he wasn’t wearing a shirt, and the way he casually lounged on that fucking mattress right now, with that arm behind his head, eyes half shut…

Walter was sitting up, holding a hand out to you, waiting patiently until you had zipped open the door further – which took so long that he ended up helping you with it. As you got in, he got out, and for a moment you were scared he would offer to leave you with Sy while he took your tent, but after a while he returned holding your backpack and sleeping bag.

The bed was a bit small for the three of you, especially since the guys were so bulky, but you managed to make it work. The only thing was… shivering in between them was hardly more comfortable than shivering by yourself, and now there wasn’t enough space to curl up into a ball and hope for the best.

“Sugar, stop squirmin’, c’mere.” Sy’s strong arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you close, when up until now you’d been trying desperately not to touch either of them. “Alright, I take it back, she is freezin’.” A gesture to Walter you could feel but not see, made him scooch over, too, until his body was flush against yours.

Your heart raced in your throat when warm hands slipped underneath your hoodie, stroking your side and – eventually – your stomach. Somewhere down the line, you forgot how to breathe properly, taking in shallow breaths, hoping the guys wouldn’t notice. Of course, they did, because they were inches away from you.

“You should take this off, sugar,” Sy mumbled into your ear. Every muscle in your body tensed up at the suggestion, and it felt like the air was knocked out of your lungs.

“C-can’t,” you stammered, “I’m not… eh… I’m not wearing a bra.”

“Fairly sure we’ve seen a pair of tits before, love,” Walter replied, right at the time Sy muttered ‘neither are we’, making you laugh. Somehow, all of this seemed innocent – or rather; you were convincing yourself it felt innocent, and any subtext and undertones were a figment of your imagination, instead, when in fact, it was far more likely that it was exactly the other way around…

“Not mine,” you protested, biting your lip as a third hand, belonging to Walter, began to roam your back.

“We’re aware of that,” Sy said, his voice dangerously close to your ear. His breath was hot against your cold skin – a sensation that made you shiver.

“In fact, we try not to think about it. It makes us sad,” Walter said, leaning his forehead against yours, sliding his hand down your back and then up your side until his thumb was less than an inch away from the underside of your boobs.

For a moment, the thought that this was just a tactic to actually warm you up flashed through your head, because – in all fairness – it was working. Every part of you was suddenly glowing, breath quick and ragged in anticipation of whatever it was that would come next. What surprised you, though, was how calm they both seemed. Then again, they had already – unknowingly – admitted to having done this before. If that was where this was headed, which you still didn’t quite know for sure… It was as if the guys were both waiting for something. Waiting for… you.

Your lips trembled as you tilted your head up, Walter taking your hint and pressing his lips to yours. Sy pushed your hair out of the way and latched on to your neck. Neither of them went straight to groping you – not more than they had been up until now – but it was only a matter of time before you felt Walter’s hand creep up to your chest. He broke your kiss, his eyes silently asking for permission, which you gave him with the flash of a smile and a slight nod, gasping when his fingers brushed past your nipple. Despite the rising temperatures in the tent – even though most of that was likely just your imagination – the difference between your skin and Walter’s was striking, and you moaned when his warm hand cupped your breast.

Sy was less subtle by about a million degrees, boldly grabbing as much of your other boob as humanly possible – and he had big hands, so you quickly ran out of tit for him to dig his fingers into.

“Can you take it easy,” you blurted out as you laughed in surprise at his – as far as you were concerned – unwarranted enthusiasm.

“Darlin’, I’ve been dreamin’ of these tits for weeks, throw a man a bone.” He groaned when you backed a hip into him the same way you would have if he had been standing next to you.

“Looks like you’re the one throwing me a bone, Syverson,” you teased when you felt his cock push against your ass. It was a horrible joke; Walter laughed, Sy did not – possibly because he was the one on the receiving end of your mockery. Instead, you heard a low, arrogant chuckle in your ear, that told you exactly how he wasn’t going to give you the upper hand.

“I ain’t throwin’ you nothin’, sugar,” he growled, putting a hand on your hip, gripping you tight. “I’m gonna make you fuckin’ beg for it.”

“Promises, promises.” Teasing the boys was fun when you were studying, because you very clearly had a head start in that department, and they would get frustrated, and it was very cute. But now, sandwiched between their bodies, gone was your head start. Any advantage you had over them, in any other way, was useless here. The worst part? They fucking knew it. It was as if they grew bigger and you got smaller, and you were loving every second of it.

Suddenly, the hands underneath your sweater grew impatient, tugging the fabric up until there was no point in keeping it on. Rough hands turned you on your back, which left you staring up at both guys while they raked their eyes over your naked upper body. The knowledge that they were far from unaffected by you graced you with a sense of pride that helped keep doubts and shyness away as you reveled in their attention and the appreciative grunts and moans they let out as they looked at you.

“Fuck,” Walter muttered, licking his lips, completely focused on your bare skin. He scooched closer to you, grinding his hips into your side as he did, and turned your face to his to kiss you.

It was as eager as before, this time with Sy descending, pressing his lips to your neck, exceeding every expectation you had created in your fantasy from before; their lips were softer, their tongues wetter, and the way the coarse hair felt on your skin better than anything you could ever imagine. You whined and squirmed as their hands glided over your body, paying plenty of attention to your boobs, their fingers treating the soft flesh in remarkably similar ways. After a while, they switched places; Sy kissed you, Walter explored your body, making you gasp into Sy’s mouth as he wrapped his lips around your nipple, sucking gently on the hardened little bud while his fingers worked the other.

Eventually, he came back up to kiss you, a situation Sy took advantage of by diving straight back between your boobs, this time sliding his hand down your stomach and into your sweatpants – which is when you grabbed his wrist.

“Stop.” Stern and very effective – not that you were about to give the boys any credit for not assaulting you; that sounded like common fucking decency to you, actually. “Before this goes any further; did either of you, with your infinite wisdom and incredible foresight, pack condoms? Because if not…” Before you finished that sentence, both of them sat up and reached for their bag, leaving you there, taken aback by… You didn’t actually know what had you so shocked about this.

Sy made it back to your side first, tucking a handful of condoms beneath his pillow before laying down again. “Oral?” he asked. It was only half the question, but you understood perfectly. You quickly established that everyone was clean, making the short answer to his half-question ‘without’. Sy responded to that agreement by promptly sliding his hand into your pants, not wasting any more time. His fingers slipped between your folds, and he let out a low chuckle.

“For a moment I was worried you didn’t want this as much as we do,” he growled in your ear. “Guess I was wrong.” One quick, skilled swirl of his finger around your swollen clit made you whine – a sound he clearly found very motivational, because his fingers picked up a steady rhythm. You tried to hide your face in Walter’s neck to cover up the sound of your moans, but he caught you and kissed you instead.

Sy somehow found the time to kiss your neck, your jaw, your ear – sinking his teeth into you ever so slightly, stopping just before he hurt you – while he continued what he was doing. His fingers were absolute magic, making you swear under your breath as he effortlessly slipped two of them inside you. Next, he kissed his way down again, not stopping at your breasts, but continuing over your abs, until he reached your sweatpants, pulling them down eagerly without waiting for your permission. Of course, he had it – and you’d had plenty of time to stop him while he was headed there. It’s just that… That was about the very last thing you wanted.

Next to you, Walter kept busy pressing lazy kisses to your neck and jaw, occasionally pulling away to look at you, while he held you and played with your boobs. A few times you tried to move your hand to the bulge in his sweatpants, but he stopped you every time.

“Would you just...”

“Darling, been there, done that. You’ll be useless to me within seconds.” He nodded towards Sy, who was taking a moment to find a decent position between your legs. You raised your eyebrow at Walter, questioning his words, but he didn’t budge. “I’m gonna wait my turn, love.”

“I know this one,” Sy said, running his fingers over the fabric of your thong. You chuckled – he was right; he’d barged into your room one night while you were changing into whatever you were going to wear out to the club, and he’d seen you in your underwear. This underwear. He took his sweet time taking it off, teasing you with kisses on the inside of your thighs, his beard rough against your sensitive skin, until you were almost begging him to keep going. Finally, he pulled your panties down.

“You were right,” he said to Walter, leaving you to wonder what the fuck… “It is her natural hair color.” Oh. You fought the urge to kick Sy – instead, you lightly squeezed your thighs shut around his head. It didn’t seem to bother him. Quite the opposite, in fact.

The urge disappeared altogether when you – finally – felt his tongue on your pussy. He wasn’t subtle, but damn, he was good. Walter had absolutely had a point; barely ten seconds in and you couldn’t keep your eyes open, let alone focus on anything other than the feeling of Sy’s tongue on your clit. He impatiently spread your legs further while mumbling some very dirty things about how much he wanted to taste you. Involuntarily, you chuckled – causing both guys to stop what they were doing and looking at you in suspicion. Lying was pointless; they knew you well enough by now to effortlessly see through that, and you sighed.

“I… eh…” you stammered, unable to find the words.

“Come on,” Walter said, “if you’ve still got things to hide from us now…” He was right, of course, this wasn’t a position you’d have found yourself in at all if you hadn’t been so comfortable with – and hot for – these guys. Then again, you were already exposed and vulnerable… Why make that worse?

You hid your face in Walter’s neck as you just said what was on your mind without thinking about it: “I always imagined you to be the quiet one and Sy the loud one.”

“Always?” Sy teased you. His usual cocky attitude transferred seemly to the bedroom – or… tent – as it would seem. Except now, for once, you had a decent shot at shutting him the fuck up – although you did have a feeling you were going to like his smug confidence for a change. Sy had been growing out his buzzcut for a few weeks now, which made his hair just about long enough to grab – a fact you used to your advantage when you tangled your fingers in his hair and pulled his face back to where you wanted it.

“That’s just going to make it harder to answer the question, darling,” Walter muttered next to you while drawing circles around your nipples with impatient fingers.

“Fuck!” you shrieked as Sy’s tongue hit your clit just right – a note he took to heart, because he didn’t leave that spot again, leaving you wishing that all men were that smart. Because why – for the love of God – did they always change their approach as soon as they found a spot you let them know you really liked? Right… The question at hand… “You really thought it was just the two of you dreaming about me?” They had to be smart enough to figure out what you meant on their own, right? The flustered look on Walter’s face told you enough, as did the deep chuckle and gentle bite on the inside of your thigh.

Apparently fed up with your conversation, Sy doubled down on his efforts, eating you out like a man starved, more chuckles escaping him as he watched you pull his pillow over your face in an attempt to keep quiet. ‘Attempt’ because you still failed quite horribly when he pushed two fingers into your pussy and curled them, finding your g-spot without any effort. The orgasm that followed was the kind of toe-curling, earth-shattering, life-changing thing that made you really mad at yourself for one particular reason…

“Jesus fucking Christ, I should have taken you up on your offer when my useless ex broke up with me,” you moaned as Sy made his way up again, pulling in the pillow that you had haphazardly thrown aside – after you were done screaming, that is – so you could catch your breath. Sy immediately pulled you on top of him, kissing you hard and deep, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. It was something that had always made you feel weird and – if you were being perfectly honest – mildly disgusted when it had been your ex doing it, but there was something about the way Sy had gone down on you, and the way he was kissing you now, something unapologetic, passionate, and enthusiastic, that made you want to kiss him.

In fact, you were just about to commit to the bit when someone – and that someone had to be Walter – grabbed you by your hips and dragged you back until you were on your knees. You tried to lie down again as you heard him rummage around, looking for something – the obvious, really. The smack on your ass made you shriek in surprise, only making you slightly worried that either sound would have been audible well outside the tent.

“Stay there,” Walter’s husky voice commanded. “My turn.” Maybe he was the quiet one, but when he did speak… Oh my! You didn’t dare to move a muscle, leaving you sitting there, exposed as you heard the pretty familiar crinkling of foil. Shortly after, you felt the tip of Walter’s cock glide along the length of your slit. He teased you for a moment before lining himself up and slowly pushing into you. Sy laughed as your eyes went wide, and he grabbed your hand, guiding it to the bulge in his pants. Jackass. As soon as you got a good sense of what he was equipped with, you squealed. Not with any particular emotion in mind, just… Right now, you didn’t know what to think. In fact, Walter was well on his way to at least semi-permanently turning the whole thinking-function of your brain off.

“You alright, love?” Walter asked as he slowly pushed further into you.

“So far so good,” you moaned, “but I hope you’re running out of dick, because I’m running out of places to put it.” Cue roaring laughter from both guys…

“If you ever wonder why we love you,” Sy said, his sentence interrupted by more laughter, “that, right there. That’s why.”

You wanted to respond to that, you really did, but Walter pulling out of you already left you breathless, meaning all you could do was gasp when he slammed back into you. You’d never pictured either of them to be gentle. Concerned for your comfort, sure, but not tender. You’d been right. Luckily, gentle lovemaking was very low on your list of priorities in this particular situation – or ever – which meant you reveled in the brutish attention you got and soon found yourself wanting to beg Walter to fuck you harder.

Sy, as vocal as he’d been before, turned out to also be a champion in impatiently nudging your hand, vaguely suggesting he wanted you to do something, and for a moment it felt like you were about to regain some control of the situation, but no… He was also not above manhandling you into a position where your face hovered over his crotch, and taking his dick out himself once he got really fed up with your stalling. With your eyes wide, you looked at him – something he enjoyed for a moment before tapping the tip of his cock to your lips.

“Don’t make me ask, Sugar,” he growled. As much as you wanted to protest and act out, with Walter fucking the attitude out of you, there was nothing you could do but open your mouth and carefully wrapping your lips around him. The chuckle you let out as Sy grunted appreciatively when you swirled your tongue around his cock was interrupted by your own moan when Walter did… whatever it was that he did to cause it.

Slowly but surely, you made your way further down Sy’s dick, until a particularly violent thrust from Walter threw you off, accidentally forcing Sy deeper than you could handle. Choking and sputtering, you moved away from Sy, only scared for a moment that he’d be disappointed, but he had a different reaction – similar to Walter’s: checking to see if you were okay. Again, you were not in the habit of handing out bonus points for normal behavior, but it was nice, regardless.

“I’m fine,” you said between ragged breaths. “Note to self: deepthroating while getting railed from behind; bad idea.” The guys laughed, and as soon as you’d caught your breath, you joined them.

“There’s one way we all get attention without any risk of choking,” Sy mentioned casually, wiggling an eyebrow suggestively. Yes, you knew what he meant instantly, but… both of them? At the same time? All it took to convince you to at least give it a try was Walter slipping out of you, leaving you empty and nowhere near sated. One of Sy’s sly glances was a question to Walter, who ‘hmmph’-ed. You didn’t like the sound of that, per se, and looked over your shoulder to see what he was on about.

“Definitely depends,” he said, taking your lack of an immediate ‘absolutely the fuck not’-reaction as a sign you were considering it. And he was correct in that interpretation of the situation. “There’s a time and place for first time anal, and this is not it.” That was a sentiment you could absolutely get behind. Luckily, it didn’t matter, because it was hardly applicable. You assured the guys you had plenty of experience in that area.

Another potential spanner in the works that Sy mentioned, was the lack of lube. Somehow, Walter surprised you by mentioning you should have some with you – you did, but how did he know that?

“You use it to keep your hair from going frizzy,” he deadpanned. You looked at him as if you’d seen a ghost, while Sy looked at you as if you’d gone completely nuts.

“What?” you said, turning to Sy again. “It works!” With one hand, you reached for the strap of your backpack, pulling it towards you so you could look for the bottle. It was just under half full, but that should be enough…

Walter wasn’t stingy with the stuff, which was a good thing. There were few things more annoying to you than continuously having to tell a guy to use more lube. One, then two, then three fingers disappeared into you without a hitch, and although the fourth was a nice reminder that you had to relax, that went over without too much trouble as well. Somehow, somewhere in your mind, the fact that Walter seemed to know exactly what he was doing irked you – it was completely hypocritical of you, for obvious reasons, but right now the thought of him with anyone else made you mad.

The boys laughed when you voiced the absurd thought, and Sy didn’t neglect to point out that they hadn’t been too happy about several of the ‘scum’ (yes, really) you’d gotten together with in the time they’d known you. It was a weird thing to be joking about with two of your closest friends while one of them had several fingers stuck up your ass, but at the same time it felt very natural and on-brand for your relationship with the guys.

You whined when Walter pulled his fingers out, making Sy chuckle in a way you didn’t like at all.

“Maybe we should go to sleep,” he suggested with a smug grin on his face that only widened when you told him you were definitely not going to do that. “Why not, sugar?”

Fuck, he was making good on that promise from before. Now, of course, you could convince yourself that begging for cock was beneath you, and you weren’t going to do it, but that would leave you – relatively – unfucked, which was… not desirable, to say the least. Or you could admit to yourself and them how much you wanted both of them inside of you, and have a great time.

Somehow, the red light that no one had bothered to turn off – luckily, as everything you had been doing so far would have been more or less impossible in the dark – already made the tent feel like… a brothel, quite frankly, you put your doubts aside and looked at Sy.

“We’re not going to sleep, because you’re not done fucking me,” you said, giving him your best bedroom eyes. Sy seemed impressed at first, but his eyes flitted to Walter and…

A strong hand grabbed your shoulder and pulled you up until your back hit Walter’s chest. His arm reached around, grabbing you by your throat – lightly, almost as if to ask for permission, but demanding.

“What do you want?” he asked, his voice dark and gravelly. Down on the air mattress, Sy smirked up at you, making it painfully obvious that you wouldn’t get out of this, no matter how hard you tried. You quickly scanned your brain for all your options, sadly coming up completely empty. No matter which way you sliced it, they were going to come out on top.

“I want you to fuck me,” you snapped, “both of you.” A sarcastic chuckle behind you and Sy shaking his head as he looked up at you told you that that wasn’t good enough. After a deep breath, your voice softened as you spoke again, finally saying the word they wanted to hear: “Please.”

For a long, dull moment all you really heard was the sound of two more condoms being unwrapped, and the top of the bottle of lube clicking. Then, Sy pulled you towards him. As soon as you felt his tip at your entrance, you sat down, fighting the urge to slap him when he threw a smirk and that godforsaken horrible wink your way. Under normal circumstances you considered yourself very well versed in resisting that desire, but today… He laughed when your palm landed lightly on his cheek and thrust up into you for good measure, making you squeal and fall over. Luckily, he caught you just in time.

Just as you wanted to sit up again, Walter put a hand on your back. Right. In that little moment of silliness, you’d almost forgotten what the endgame was, but now that you felt Walter’s cock pushing against your ass…

“Keep talking to us, okay?” Sy whispered softly as he saw your expression change. He cupped your cheek, gently stroking your cheekbone with his thumb. “Breathe.” You took his advice immediately – no doubt a nice change of pace for him, as he was used to your stubbornness at this point – taking a few deep breaths. It wasn’t until the third or fourth one that Walter moved, slowly pushing into you. Keeping your eyes open was absolutely impossible, the sensation of both of them filling you up at the same time too much to even really wrap your head around. “Sugar, you okay?”

“Uhuh.” You nodded, showcasing your current full extent of your ability to answer. When Walter moved, you swore under your breath – when they both moved you hid your face in Sy’s neck and let out a loud moan, followed by an out-of-breath ‘fuck yes’, and that was all the confirmation they needed.

They established a rhythm suspiciously quickly, pumping in and out of you in sync. Yeah. They’d definitely done this before. As you pushed the thought away and focused on the incredible sensations of their cocks moving inside of you, their eager – and mostly greedy – hands on your hips, shoulders, ass, thighs, and tits, you felt a familiar pressure inside of you.

“Don’t stop,” you blurted out – and the boys seemed more than happy to oblige. With one little disclaimer…

“Make it quick, love… Not gonna last,” Walter grunted, digging his fingers into the flesh of your hips. It hurt, causing you to swat at his hand, which made him relax his grip a bit. Judging from Sy’s rapid breaths and a concentrated look on his face that gave away just how much difficulty he was having with keeping his rhythm steady, he was getting pretty damn close, too. In fact, pretty much the second their thrusts dragged you over the edge, both of them grit their teeth and gave in to their own pleasure, growling profanities as they came.

The boys were nice enough to handle most of the cleanup for you – which was, given that you were camping, largely a matter of wet wipes, which was definitely not even close to the shower you would have loved to take right about now. And you couldn’t really appreciate Sy’s joke about a lovely, refreshing river near where you were, either.

“Maybe tomorrow,” you yawned, turning around in the middle of the bed, wrapping your sleeping bag tightly around your shoulders. It didn’t take the guys long to join you, and soon you were sandwiched between them again, strong arms wrapped around you – clearly not planning on letting go anytime soon.

Walter pressed his lips to your shoulder and let out a low chuckle. “Still cold, darling?”

The next morning, you woke up in an empty bed, in a tent that was already slightly warmer than comfortable, with just your sleeping bag on it. The guys had somehow already managed to worm theirs into the tiny little bags they came in, and all without waking you. Then again, it was safe to say that by now they’d proven themselves to be experts in the field of putting pretty big things in relatively tiny places…

For a moment, you wondered if you should feel weird about getting up and going outside, seeing the guys, but something about the whole thing felt so oddly natural that you didn’t give it a second thought.

“Mornin’, sugar,” Sy said as he held out some coffee to you when you joined him on the ground by the fire, where you’d spent the start of last night, as well. The two of you called Walter over, who was just about done putting your tent – the one that had been meant to be yours, anyway – away. He tossed the bag into the bed of the truck as if it weighed nothing – and maybe it indeed didn’t, you wouldn’t know, because you hadn’t touched the entire thing – and made his way over to you, gratefully taking the other cup of coffee Sy had poured.

You knew better than to try striking up a conversation with either of them before they’d finished their morning coffee – it was so bad that whenever you had classes together in the mornings, you showed up there with two double espressos for them and a latte for you, because if you didn’t do that, they’d just grouch and snap at you all the way through the first half of class.

It was all the more surprising, then, when Sy suddenly asked Walter a very unexpected question: “Have you ever kissed a dude?” The answer was no, he hadn’t - to which followed an even more surprising question: “Ever wanted to try it?”

The casual energy of the shrug with which Walter answered that question was absolutely unmatched by anything you had ever seen, and you stared at the guys, wide-eyed as they leaned in until their lips touched. It wasn’t just a quick peck, either! No, there was tongue involved in this… And by the end of it?

“Eh,” Walter said, “not for me.” Sy agreed.

“I’m sorry,” you said, completely taken aback by the unexpectedness of what had just happened. “What? You can’t just… Stick your tongue down your friend’s throat and then casually decide… What?”

“Hey,” Sy said, his tone still infuriatingly indifferent, “don’t knock it till you try it.”

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distort-opia · 1 year

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I'm wracking my brain with what Joker would do in an established situation, like how would he keep those homicidal urges at bay (sex and intimacy can only go so far I imagine) and also there's so much unacknowledged mental health concerns. Bruce would just have to always be ready to pick up the pieces I feel like (God these two are a tragic mess). I don't think normalcy is possible but I don't think their relationship is built for that anyway (I've been writing notes down for a story for days and it's just been consuming me)

An actual relationship between Bruce and Joker is a very complicated thing to imagine, yeah. I agree with you that normalcy is entirely out of the question-- as in, a typical "healthy" relationship. What I think they could have is something that works, but not something that most people would understand or approve of. If you're writing a story, I would say it depends on how they got into the relationship a lot, and if Bruce is compromising as much as Joker perceives he is. For instance, a rehabilitation scenario inherently implies a power imbalance, which Joker would resent and Bruce would not be able to help not taking advantage of. This would not end up working out, in my opinion, unless they got back on equal footing somehow. So a scenario with them an equal footing is what I will be rambling about.

Joker's homicidal urges and mental health issues are indeed a big obstacle. It'd take a whole lot for him to even agree to try for a relationship that involves something other than violence, but this denotes a willingness to compromise from the start. It means he cares about Bruce enough to risk opening the door to his humanity, something that he's very keen on eradicating. Joker can allow himself to love Batman as long as love equals destruction; but once love begins to mean more tender things, things that only people and not monsters can feel... it's a threat to his very identity, to his very core. Hence, just the fact that Joker is in an established relationship means that he's accepted, one way or another, that he's a human being.

Human beings don't need to kill people. Monsters do. It's relevant to note that Joker has an incredible capacity to reshape himself. He's done so multiple times in canon, and always in relation to what he perceived Batman needed. He was murderous when he emerged, but after Robin appeared on the scene he went for funny silly gags, and then he recreated himself back into a horrific threat... In his head, Batman -- the drive to see meaning in all life, to fight for sense in one's existence -- is the force of nature that he's the opposite of. Joker molded himself as the force of chaos: he kills carelessly, sometimes almost joylessly, because he believes he's embodying the true way the world works (though he's shown signs he'd like to be convinced otherwise).

After all, like his fall in the acid and the trauma he went through proved, catastrophe is random. It doesn't matter if you're good or evil, if you've got a family or if you're alone, if you've contributed to society or not. You can get run over by a bus, you can have a heart attack, you can mix the wrong medications, you can get shot in the head by a madman because you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. My point with this is that Joker sees himself as an agent of the cruel randomness of existence, and him killing people is very much part of it. So if he stopped seeing himself as an inhuman force for chaos, I think killing would not be a necessity anymore.

That's not to say he wouldn't think of other people's lives as worthless or that he wouldn't instinctually want to kill someone because they're inconveniencing him as some kind of fly buzzing around, but it does mean he wouldn't need to do it. Being with Bruce undermines the very point of being Joker, it means being a person instead of raging at the world. In an established relationship, he'd need to once again reshape himself, figure out who he can be. It'd be very difficult, if you add Bruce's controlling tendencies in the mix. You mentioned Bruce always having to pick up the pieces, but the thing is, Bruce would want to. He'd want to do that too much, he would enjoy seeing Joker be vulnerable, because afterwards... Bruce would be able to put those pieces back together the way he wants them to be. And Joker would be rightly afraid of that, and Bruce himself would be afraid of his own need to do just that, and it'd be a constant push and pull. That's basically what I think it'd be like for a while, before Joker figured out who exactly he's comfortable being, and if he can trust Bruce to still be there when boundaries are being pushed. It'd be a lot of "make me" even in the context of intimacy, until Joker initiates something that doesn't hurt on his own and like... Bruce doesn't move a muscle as if he might spook a wild animal or something. And then Joker snaps at him to stop making it weird, hah.

I'm going to stop here to avoid turning this into a Batjokes relationship essay, but I hope this helped inspire you, Anon! We can always use more Batjokes stories, excited to eventually read yours.

#a relationship would mean Bruce confronting a shitload of truths about himself too #which would ALSO complicate things but. alas.#see this is why I did not continue REMS. this kind of thing would require like a 300k word series #hell. probably even more #these assholes are too damn complex #asks #joker #batjokes #batjokes headcanons

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callsignfate · 4 months

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Consider this a date

Day Twenty-four of Writemas

If you want to see the scheduled posts go here If you want to see more posts like this go here TW: None? Let me know if I've missed any!

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

Kate rarely got into her neighbors' affairs in her apartment complex, that was until she saw you replace the louder and frankly annoying woman who shared the right walls of her apartment. She adored that you were a quiet homebody, and you were her type.

She loved when you would check on her when you hadn't seen each other in a few days. Often you'd carry over some baked sweets or food that, sometimes after a seemingly endless workweek, was the only thing she ate before collapsing in bed.

Kate spent almost all of her day off doing laundry and chores as she usually did before sitting down to watch mindless TV or read. That was until a knock at her door made her break her concentration on flicking between the channels.

She opened the door to see you with some food in hand and a small anxious expression that made her more confused than anything.

"Here, I made this for you... and I was wondering if I could use your shower? I have a date, and the maintenance people still haven't fixed mine," you asked as she took the small glass dish that was still warm from you.

"Yea, no problem," Kate said immediately as she moved to let you into her apartment. "A date? Are you excited? You seem... nervous," Kate asked as she moved to put the dish on the kitchen island before she turned to look back at you.

"Last time they weren't the best. I mean, she was a little pushy, and I only agreed because she asked me, and I didn't know how to say no because she was lonely," you rambled quickly before Kate shot you an almost skeptical look.

"You agreed to go back out on a date you didn't want to go on with a girl you don't like because she said she was lonely, and you can't say no," Kate said, almost reiterating it so you could hear how insane she felt it was.

"Well, when you put it like that, it sounds bad, but she was kinda sorta nice... I guess," you added quickly with a small sigh. "I would feel bad flaking on her when it's a few hours away," you mumbled almost to yourself.

Kate raised an eyebrow, an amused smile playing on her lips. "So, you're going on a date out of sympathy? That's a new one."

You laughed nervously, scratching the back of your head. "Yeah, well, I didn't want to be rude."

Kate shook her head, still smiling. "You're too kind for your own good. But hey, if you're not feeling it, you don't owe anyone your time. Just be honest with her."

You nodded, grateful for Kate's straightforward advice. "You're right. I'll figure it out. Thanks for the food and, you know, letting me invade your shower space."

"Anytime," Kate said, gesturing toward the bathroom. "Go freshen up, and good luck on your 'sympathy' date. Hopefully, she's a better match this time."

As you headed to the bathroom, Kate couldn't help but chuckle to herself. The things you did for the sake of politeness and kindness, even if it meant enduring potentially awkward dates. She hoped you'd find someone who matched your warmth and sincerity, Kate almost wished she could convince you out of it, or even ask you herself.

As you emerged from the bathroom, looking slightly more composed and less like someone about to embark on a questionable date, Kate couldn't resist a teasing grin. "You clean up well. If she doesn't appreciate the effort, it's her loss."

You chuckled, appreciating Kate's attempt to lighten the mood. "Thanks, Kate. I owe you one for this."

"Just consider it payment for the times you've rescued me from those awkward small talks with our other neighbor," she quipped, making you laugh.

With a grateful smile, you nodded. "Deal. I'll let you know how it goes."

As you headed out, Kate couldn't help but feel a mix of curiosity and a slight tinge of worry for your date. She returned to her chores, occasionally glancing at the clock and wondering how your evening was unfolding.

Meanwhile, you navigated through the date with the grace of someone who had learned to be polite even in less-than-ideal situations. The restaurant was a pleasant surprise, and your date, though not entirely your cup of tea, was just as terrible as the last. She vented endlessly about her Ex that she was still struggling to get over and her endless relationship expectations. You nodded and forced a smile before you secretly texted Kate's number she had given you so she could text you to take of her plants when she was away for longer than expected, 'any way I can get you to save me from this terrible date?'

Kate's response came swiftly, and her sense of humor shone through: Consider it a rescue mission in progress. I'll call you in a few minutes pretending to be an emergency that needs your immediate attention. Be ready.

Relieved, you endured a few more minutes of your date's endless saga before your phone rang. You apologized and excused yourself, citing a work emergency. As you answered the call with a look of feigned concern, Kate's voice came through with practiced urgency.

"Hey, it's Kate from the building management. We've got an issue with the water pipes in your apartment. Could you come back urgently? We need your help to sort this out."

You feigned shock and apologized to your date, explaining the situation. Grateful for the lifeline, you excused yourself and rushed out, leaving the melodrama behind.

Once you were safely away from the restaurant, you called Kate to express your gratitude. She couldn't help but chuckle. "You owe me big time for this one. But hey, at least you're free now." "Did you maybe want to.." You asked before you felt your heart race, just as Kate was about to answer you cut her off, "Actually that was stupid you're probably busy."

There was a moment of silence on the other end before Kate's voice came through, warm and reassuring. "I was going to say, did you maybe want to grab some takeout and binge-watch terrible movies together? My treat. Consider it a post-date recovery plan."

A wave of relief washed over you, and a genuine smile spread across your face. "That sounds perfect, Kate. Thanks for being my emergency exit tonight."

"No problem. You can owe me by enduring a marathon of cheesy romantic comedies and considering this a date," Kate replied, her tone light and teasing.

The mention of a date in such a casual and teasing manner caught your attention. You chuckled, realizing that perhaps the best dates were the unplanned, easygoing ones.

"Sure thing, Kate. Consider it a date, then. I owe you for saving me from that disaster," you said, and you could almost hear the smirk in Kate's voice.

"Great! Get ready for the cheesiest, most cringe-worthy rom-coms I can find. It's payback time," Kate declared with a playful enthusiasm.

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

If you want to see the scheduled posts go here If you want to see more posts like this go here

#kate laswell #kate laswell x reader #laswell #call of duty laswell #laswell cod #laswell mw2 #kate laswell fluff #kate laswell x fem!reader #kate laswell x you #kate laswell cod #kate laswell call of duty

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ro-rogue · 8 days

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i have very mixed feelings about the new bostin confrontation that got john expelled.

it is portrayed as the worst of john's actions in new bostin, his lowest, most violent moment. and while that last part is not untrue, i feel like the confrontation is a lot more complicated than just john going insane.

by that point, john had already been king for a little while, and he was absolutely terrible at it. (i've written before on why i think that is, and even his objectively horrible actions here were not excusable but understandable.) claire decided he needed to be stopped, and she gathered a bunch of their schoolmates to confront him, as her vision had shown. then, instead of trying to talk it out, zirian (one of the people she had gathered, for some reason) immediately attacked john, and everything devolved from there.

now, a few things stick out to me here:

first of all, claire took zirian with her to confront john. the question is: why? john and zirian had already fought on multiple occassions, and last time they fought, john had beaten zirian. did claire think seeing someone john defeated in a fair fight would make him realize he was a horrible person? did she think that if people saw zirian, they too would be willing to confront john? but wouldn't those people then think they were going to beat john up? did she not realize that if people believed her lie enough to follow her, they would be prepared to act on it too? i really struggle with her thought process here.

next, zirian thought that they could beat john if they all worked together. this supports my theory that the kids in new bostin had absolutely no idea how powerful a god-tier was. the wellston kids would never try to gang up like that on pre-ability loss seraphina - they knew she was too strong.

however, they did gang up on john at least sixteen-to-one (in episode 185, the shot with the most classmates shows sixteen people). when claire was telling the story to seraphina, she made it sound like it was completely unreasonable that john assumed that a group of people who all hated him, at least some of whom he had fought before, including the former king, would want to attack and overthrow him. "he refused to listen" is true, and something john has struggled with a lot both before and after the ambush, but to be honest, in his shoes, i also wouldn't have believed claire.

moreover, he is criticized for going too far in beating them up, but imo that mostly applies to claire and adrion, who weren't actually attacking him. the other fifteen kids were very clearly willing to hurt him just as much as he ended up hurting them. besides, they were attacking him fifteen-to-one, with claire standing to the side - what was john supposed to do? hold back?

the answer, of course, is yes: he should've. it was absolutely not right for him to go that far. but we must understand that john was sixteen, stressed, hurt, and facing people who were likely his former bullies, in the sense that everyone used to bully him.

(plus claire, who gathered everyone there, and how was he supposed to know that she didn't mean for it to turn out like that? and plus adrion, who called the authorities on him, which was objectively a good decision, but it can be hard to see it that way when you're the one who the cops are being called on)

in addition to that, if seraphina or even arlo had been ganged up on like that, no one would be surprised if they, too, fucked up their opponents. (remember that turf war back in episode 17/18/something? where arlo clearly wasn't just going to stop hurting his ooponent, not until seraphina physically stopped him?) john was out of control and very much Not Okay, but his handling of the ambush actually seems to be quite typical for a god-tier.

so to conclude, the new bostin ambush/confrontation was more complex than simply john going crazy, and while both he and claire definitely think that he is the only one at fault there and he acted completely irrationally, that isn't actually the case, and uno readers should be aware that we are viewing the story from the perspectives of biased and thus unreliable narrators.

#ofc this doesnt mean that john wasnt in the wrong here. he was. but its more complex than just that #it has been bugging me for a while how little uno readers seem to try to understand his actions #not just excuse them or make him into a better person #here i am again w my john doe analysis #john doe #uno #unordinary #john doe unordinary

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balanceoflightanddark · 1 month

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By the way, I just realized this as I rewatched ATLA and the live-action. Zuko was stated to be trained by Piandao how to wield the dual swords, which is one of the four major weapons in China. And in the live-action Azula was shown to be practicing archery, in some cultures, archery was one of the appropriate hobbies done by women because of how little they move and such. I suppose it adds on to how they were treated in the royal court, sorry if it's incoherent. Half-asleep and the screen is becoming a bit blurry

Sorry if I haven't responded right away.

I haven't seen the Live Action series since...well quite frankly, I haven't heard a lot of good things about them (particularly since I've heard mixed things about them supposedly deifying Zuko again). It's on the to-do list, but I wanted the heat to die down a little before giving it a shot.

sighs, having a nasty feeling I'm not going to like it

Anyways, I think it's a bit of both. Archery would be considered something up Azula's alley in terms of activities. It's considered feminine by a lot of Asian cultures, but still gets her involved in some art of combat and martial prowess. By the same token, it is considered to be one of the Six Arts as you said in Ancient China. So it could be possible that Ozai is grooming Azula that way to be his heir. Personally, I had a headcanon that archery was supposed to be a way in-universe for Azula to practice the precision and peace of mind needed to achieve lightning bending without it turning dangerous. I mean Zuko got hurt when he tried bending lightning, so we know it can be harmful when improperly handled, so it's not too much of an imagination.

With that said, I am leaning towards the former interpretation. For starters, the Fire Nation is a very militaristic and imperialistic country during the war. Indeed, the only music we see comes from Iroh and he's considered to be a bit of an outcast. The only bit of music we see being performed by the populace as a whole appears to be the anthem in "The Headband", which is basically just one big declaration of loyalty to the Fire Lord. As for the other Four Arts, we don't see them being performed, even during our time with Zuko in the Capital. Chances are if some version of them appeared in-universe, I doubt the Fire Nation would've given them much stock unless they could somehow rework that for military use.

And since Azula was conditioned so much into military life that she legitimately has trouble socializing with other people her age, I sincerely doubt she would've pursued those arts on her own unless they provided some kind of martial benefit.

We do know that the Fire Nation IS pretty gender stratified though. In this post made by the wonderful seyaryminamoto, we do know that men hold more positions of power. With the only women of nobility having little power to speak of like Ursa or Michi. Azula is the exception, but the point still stands that the Fire Nation does adhere to a lot of gender roles. In that regard, I think Zuko training with Piandao while Azula practices archery could be part of this gender stratification in action. Particularly since Ozai is apparently pitting Azula and Zuko against each other, to the point where he seems more pleased with Zuko's hunt for the Avatar than what Azula achieves.

Also, building off of that, if the Fire Nation practices the Six Arts, we should've seen Zuko practice archery by this logic. After all if Ozai pitted them against each other to determine the better heir, wouldn't it make sense for Zuko to pursue them as well as Azula?

Anyways, thank you for your asks. Sorry again for not answering right away.

#azula #princess azula #azula meta #zuko #ozai #fire lord ozai #prince zuko #zuko meta #ozai meta #atla #avatar the last airbender #atla netflix #atla live action #netflix avatar #anon ask #anon answered #ask answered #ask me anything

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lokis-dark-queen · 1 year

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A “Horny” Reunion Pt. 1/2

Sub Loki/Fem Reader Smut

Summary: After some time away on Asgard, Loki receives a special request from his lover during their steamy reunion that involves his ceremonial armor and those iconic gold horns.

Warnings/notes: SMUT 18+, kinda inappropriate use of Loki’s horns (they are basically handlebars.) He’s also sub because I say so. This is part one of a two part one-shot.

Word Count: 2,869

Also on AO3

Loki has been in Asgard for almost three weeks now, three weeks without Loki was hell for her. She thought that it would be fun at first, some time without Loki where she could focus on herself and have fun with her girlfriends. And she did for the first couple weeks, while Loki was dealing with “official royal business” in Asgard, she was partying with her friends and staying up late. It wasn't that she couldn’t do all those things with Loki around, he was not controlling at all. She just liked the feeling of being by herself for a while and doing what she wanted. However, time apart makes the heart grow fonder, and at the end of the second week, the lack of Loki’s presence began to weigh heavy on her. She missed his voice, his laugh, and his witty remarks. Her bed felt cold without him, she missed waking up to him in the morning, his hands would wander her body as she was slowly drawn from her slumber. He would place soft kisses on her face and down her neck as she stirred awake in his arms.

What she missed most, however, was the sex. She loved Loki as a person and she was absolutely in love with him. But gods he could fuck! She became addicted to him after their first night together, she could never sleep with anyone else after that. Eventually he moved in with her after they both grew tired of living at the Avengers’ tower. Sneaking around with him and being bugged by the Avengers constantly was not a good mix. They finally had their privacy, that was until Loki was being called back to Asgard more often. She was happy that Loki was close with his brother again, and that he was able to go see his mother freely. However, his relationship with Odin was still estranged, it wasn’t surprising, Loki still refused to fully forgive him for the way that he treated Loki growing up. She supported Loki and his decisions, but she still missed him dearly.

Now she laid on her bed, one of Loki’s capes was wrapped around her frame as she curled up, staring at the empty spot next to her. Loki's scent was beginning to fade from his side of the bed, as well as the cape. She closed her eyes and pretended that he was there next to her. Her hands ran down the material of the cape, to her stomach, and eventually down her shorts. Getting herself off these past few weeks wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do until Loki came back.

When she suddenly heard a deep familiar voice, she thought she was hallucinating.

“Oh darling, have you been desperate in my absence?”

Her eyes flew open as she sat up on the bed, the god of mischief himself stood at the foot of it. She flung herself at him immediately, jumping off the bed and wrapping her arms and legs around his tall frame.

“Loki! I missed you so much.” Her face was buried in the crook of his neck as a few tears fell from her cheeks, “Part of me thought you would never come back.”

“Me? Leave you? Darling I would simply cease to exist without you. These past few weeks have been incredibly tiring, they wanted me to stay longer. But I told my mother I had important business to tend to on Midgard.” He smirked, taking a handful of her ass as he held her up.

She pulled back and looked Loki in the eyes, “Is that my name now? Important business?” She giggled before giving him a brief kiss. The kisses traveled to his flushed cheeks and forehead as she pampered him with love and affection. She ran her hands down his neck to the ceremonial leather and armor that he still wore from his business on Asgard, “It’s been awhile since i've seen you in the full get up. I almost forgot how hot it is.”

Loki backed up and spun them around so that she was pinned between the wall and his body. His hands wrapped around the backs of her thighs and hoisted her up so that he could pull her into a deep, desperate kiss that would make a virgin blush. The scent of leather mixed with Loki’s natural scent of cedar and spice filled her nostrils as he pressed his hips into hers. She gasped into the kiss, running her fingernails down the back of his leather coat. Loki pulled away, causing her to let out a small whine before kissing down his neck.

“I know how much you love my armor darling, however, it is quite difficult to AGH-!” He grunted as she left a small bite mark on his neck, she sucked on his skin with the intention of leaving a nice mark for later. “QUITE! Difficult to maneuver in.”

She pulled back and gave him a smile, “But you seem to walk around in it just fine.” She runs her hands down the golden armor, fingers tracing the small patterns that adorn it.

“I’m not talking about walking. I mean special… maneuvers.” He hoped she would get the hint.

She looked at him in confusion for a moment, “So what? You can’t fuck in it?”

Loki normally loved and admired how straightforward she was when she spoke to him. But now, she was leaving him flustered and speechless. His eyes were wide as he looked at her, he saw that her pupils were blown with lust as she smirked, fully aware that she currently had the upper hand.

“It's not that I can’t, it’s just difficult to move in that way.” He explained.

“Oh, I understand.” She complied, somewhat sarcastically.

“Good.” He gently placed her back on her feet, “Now let me take all this off and we can-” He was cut off by her guiding him back to the armchair in the corner of the room before she put her hand on his chest and gently pushed him down, his armor clanking as it met the soft material. Loki was immensely stronger than her, of course, but he still let her control him at times.

“What? Darling you’re not! Ooh~” He gasped as she gripped his hard cock through the leather.

“C’mon baby, don’t act like you don’t like it when I push you around. You're already so hard for me.” She replaces her hand with her clothed, wet cunt and ground against his leather trousers that concealed him. She could feel her wetness leaking through her thin underwear and shorts, now polishing his leather pants perfectly. “See? Feel.” She grabbed his hand and brought it to her heated center, she guided his fingers into a circling motion on her clit. Loki moaned at her actions, secretly loving the feeling of being used by a beautiful, demanding woman. “This is how you make me feel, I get so turned on when I see you dressed like this.” She moaned, moving her hips in time with his hand, “Good boy, you make me feel so fucking good.” She kissed him, swallowing his moans that she drew from him.

“Darling, please.” He begged between kisses, “I need you, p-please.”

“I love it when you beg for me, mischief.”

They just couldn’t wait any longer after these long weeks away from each other. While she was tending to her needs on earth, Loki was pleasuring himself on Asgard whenever he had time away from his royal duties. He imagined fucking her in his large bed covered in his favorite green silken sheets, making her scream his name so that all of Asgard knew who she belonged to. But now, he was sitting in their shared room of her New York apartment, the curtains wide open and looking over the lively city beneath them, absolutely at her will. He was ready to do anything for her, and he nearly moaned out loud when she began to undo the laces on his leather trousers. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the armrests of the chair, his eyes were focused on her, taking in every feature on her face and they way that her hands trembled with excitement as she finally undid the final lace and opened his trousers. She quickly abandoned her tee, showing her soft breasts to Loki’s wandering eyes, before reaching down to make a fist around his long cock. She slowly stroked him, he threw his head back in pleasure as she used her thumb to circle the blushed head, a small sheen of pre cum covered her thumb. She brought her thumb up to her mouth to taste him.

She slipped herself off of his body before untying her sleeping shorts and sliding them down her legs, Loki clenched his jaw in anticipation. She placed herself back on her throne that was Loki’s lap and gave him a deep kiss and ran her hands up his chest to play with the curls at the end of his hair. She leaned back and looked the powerful god beneath her up and down. His angry red cock stood in contrast to his black leather, his chestplate raised up and down with his heavy breathing and his pale cheeks wore a faded flush.

“Somethings missing.” She stated, running her fingers through his dark locks.

“What is it, my love?”

She put her index fingers to her forehead to mimic the look of his signature horns. “Put your horns on.” She demanded.

“W-why?” He stuttered

“Because I want to hold on to them while I ride you.”

Her straightforwardness made his cock twitch in need, “Anything for you, my love.” He smiled before a ring of magic, manifesting itself in green glimmers, surrounded his head in a halo before turning into his glistening, golden horns.

She smiled as she ran her hands up and down the gold that now adorned his head, stroking the horns as if they were his dick. She slid her fingers along the cheek pieces that accentuated his prominent cheekbones. She tilted his head back further so that she could kiss him deeply without colliding with the horns before lifting her hips to press her wet pussy against the head of his cock, the sheen of their combined arousal put a nice shine on the leather that covered his abdomen. She pulled away from the kiss to hold onto his horns before sinking onto him. They both gasped at the feeling of being with each other once again.

“Oh fuck- I missed you so much Loki.” She moaned before gripping onto his horns tighter and moving her hips in a circling, grinding motion.

Loki let out a deep growl and held on to her waist as she began to slowly bounce on top of him. His fingers eventually made their way up to her pebbled nipples and began to play with them gently. She arched her back into his touch and whined his name. Loki’s moans became louder as he realized he wouldn’t be able to hold back for much longer, he was more desperate than he anticipated. He didn’t think he would cum this quickly, and if he was in control he probably wouldn’t, but she was riding him so perfectly right now and he couldn’t stop himself from pushing his hips up, causing his cock to slide inside her perfect cunt even deeper.

“Darling, w-wait I- I can’t. Slow down.”

“It’s okay, you can cum.” She allowed, circling her hips once again.

“FUCK! Fuck~” His hands held on tight to the flesh on her thighs, fingernails leaving shallow marks in her skin as he coated her walls with his cum. Sweat formed underneath the headpiece on his forehead and small tears shone underneath his eyes.

She gasped, loving the feeling of him filling her up. She knew Loki insisted that she came first whenever they fucked, but seeing him lose control under her was worth it. Besides, she would make sure he made it up to her after he recovered from his powerful orgasm.

“Are you with me, darling?” She ran her thumbs along his jawline as he relaxed beneath her.

“Always, my love.” He opened his eyes, looking into her’s with the same amount of love and lust that he had when he caught her touching herself when he arrived back home. “What about you? You didn’t cum.”

“Aw darling, so considerate.” She lifted herself off his softening cock, Loki’s cum leaking from her pussy, and stood in front of him, “Stand up.” She demanded. He did as he was told before she put her hands on his clothed biceps, turning them around and sitting down where Loki was only seconds ago. She spread her legs for him, giving him a perfectly unobstructed view of his seed leaking out of her cunt. “Get to it then.”

Loki wasted no time dropping to his knees in front of her and holding on to her thighs, keeping them open so that his horns could fit in between her legs. She reached down and held onto them once again as she felt his warm breath brushing against her wet folds. She pushed her hips into his mouth and pulled his head closer by his golden headpiece. Loki licked up her slit, drinking his own release from her cunt, before circling her clit with his tongue.

“Fuck~ can you taste yourself, mischief?” She moaned, grasping on tight to his horns.

Loki groaned in approval as she arched her back and pushed her hips closer to his mouth in an attempt to feel more friction from his tongue. His long fingers teased her entrance as his tongue circled her clit. His cum being used as lube as he curled two of his fingers to push against her g spot. She now her head thrown back in pleasure, screaming out his name and digging her fingernails into the soft felt of the chair. Tears of utter pleasure pricked the corners of his eyes as her legs shook on either side of his head, brushing against the chilling gold of his horns that raised gooseflesh on her skin.

Loki moaned between her legs as if he was getting off from her taste alone. He looked up at her with those gorgeous cerulean eyes that bore into her soul, she could barely keep eye contact with him before her eyes rolled back into her skull. Loki sped up his movements, determined to make her cum just as hard as he did. He smirked against her pussy as her thighs tightened around his head.

“I’m gonna cum- ah LOKI!” She cried out as her knuckles turned white, holding Loki’s horns in a death grip as her powerful orgasm possessed her body, leaving her quivering in Loki’s arms. Loki continued eating her out as her climax felt nearly endless. Her cunt was swollen in overstimulation as she began to push at his head in an attempt to crawl away from his talented silver tongue. Loki took the hint and stopped his pleasurable assault, slowly kissing her thighs and up to her stomach. He made his way back up her body so that his face was level with hers, giving her a soft kiss before she wrapped her arms around his neck to help her sit up straight and return the kiss.

“I love you darling, it feels good to be home. May I change into something more comfortable now?” He smirked, placing a kiss on her soft cheek.

She giggled and stood up with Loki, running her hands around the intricate details of his armor, taking it in before it was gone for the foreseeable future. “I guess you can. I’ll miss it though.”

“You will see it again darling, I promise”

Loki used his magic to change into a pair of black lounge pants. Loki looked sexy in whatever he wore, besides now she had access to his exposed torso. She immediately took the opportunity to touch his skin that was slightly flushed and sweaty from their previous activities. She ran her hands through his inky hair, caressing where the proud helmet once sat.

“I love you mischief, never leave me again.” She pouted, burying her face in his chest and wrapping her arms around his back.

He wrapped one arm around her waist as the other cradled the back of her head, running his fingers through her tangled hair and kissing her on the forehead. “Unfortunately, I cannot skip my trips to Asgard. I can, however, bring you with me next time.”

“Sounds perfect.” She looked back up at him, kissing his lips once again before they made their way back to the bed, she ended up back on his lap, peppering his face with kisses once more.

“Since you got to make demands on what I wore this time, I have a request.”

“What is it, mischief?” She smiled.

“I want you to wear the deliciously tight combat suit that you wear on your missions next time.”

She leaned back and looked at him with an entertained look on her face before giving him a seductive smirk, “Deal.”

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