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bosspigeon · 10 months

Text

some strange kind of euphoria

Rating: M Words: 6230 Pairing: Amir x MC Warnings: references to past homophobia, bullying, and emotional abuse, panic attacks, implications of kink, general horny content Ko-Fi <3

Amir answers the door wearing nothing more than his gauzy dressing gown and a smile, which drops as soon as he sees the look on Jude’s face.

In Jude’s defense, seeing Amir at all brightens him up a bit, but even offering his own smile doesn’t quite feel right. He’s tense, slouching, and he knows his sour mood is broadcasting loud and clear in more than just his expression and posture.

His face feels brittle, but so does the rest of him. “Can I come in?” he asks, wincing at the way his voice cracks.

He shouldn’t have come at all. He should have just… called Amir and asked for a rain check, but Amir penciled out this time for him, when he’s always so busy, he couldn’t just bail. He’s starting to think he should have anyway to save them both the discomfort.

“I’m sorry,” he rasps, swallowing and backing away from the door while Amir stares him down, quietly assessing. “I shouldn’t have–”

“Did the doorman give you trouble?” Amir snaps, eyes blazing. Heat prickles along Jude’s skin, the temperature in the hall rising abruptly.

“Wh– No, he– Well–” He didn’t give him any trouble, per se, he knows Jude well enough by now as Amir’s guest that he didn’t say anything– just gave him the usual quietly critical once-over he does whenever Jude shows up on his own without Amir to shield him. It usually doesn’t bother him overmuch, but he’s… a bit more of a raw nerve than he usually is. Maybe more of an open wound.

“No,” Amir says slowly, calming down quickly as he examines the human. “Something happened.”

“Nothing serious,” Jude assures him, and he doesn’t resist as Amir tugs him inside. The hand curling around his wrist is soft and too-warm, and something in his body eases at the simple touch. “I just… had dinner with my family, is all.”

The door clicks shut behind him, and the silence that follows is tense and weighted.

“...It didn’t go well, I take it?” Amir offers, his voice carefully neutral, his fingers tightening briefly around Jude’s wrist and then relaxing.

Jude can’t help but laugh, a single sharp bark that he stifles as quickly as he can. “‘Bout as well as could be expected,” he mumbles. He’s not sure what else to say beyond that, there’s so much tangled up in his head, in his chest, his whole body is tense and heavy with it.

He wishes he’d thought to change before he showed up. The crisp button-down and pressed slacks are uncomfortably formal, fitting too closely around his shoulders, at his waist. He feels stiff and stifled and… not like himself.

He’s sure Amir notices. Amir notices everything.

He leads Jude to the sofa and urges him to sit. He sinks into it with a grateful sigh, releasing as much of the tension in his body he's able to without medical or chemical assistance. Amir settles in next to him, curling close, and immediately starts plucking at the buttons of his shirt.

Jude huffs out another weak little laugh, lolling his head back against the cushions and watching those long, graceful fingers work.

“Talk to me, darling,” Amir says, slipping his hand under the fabric to rest against Jude's chest. The heat of his hand is comforting in its familiarity, lighting up his skin and settling his nerves. There’s a silky weight pressing at the edge of his thoughts, a presence that he’s grown used to at this point, warm like a physical touch. He’s not sure Amir’s even doing it on purpose, but it doesn't really matter.

"Mom asked if I was seeing anyone." It hangs between them for a long moment, before he manages to eke out, "She… didn't mean to."

She's never asked. Not him, at least. She's asked his brothers, his cousins, the kids of friends of hers or Dad's, but never Jude. She knows better than to ask questions she doesn't want the answer to.

He tries to elaborate, but when he opens his mouth, nothing comes out, like the words are stuck behind a barrier, like there’s a big blinking roadblock between his brain and his mouth. He wants to laugh. He wants to cry.

He’s so tired of talking, and even if he doesn't really need to say much of anything out loud with Amir, he's just so frustrated, like he wasted all his words on people who didn’t even care to listen. He groans and covers his face with his hands.

Amir's slide over them, tugging them away so Jude can't hide from him. "That’s fine. You don’t need to talk." He smiles a sly little smile that always makes Jude's pulse race, kisses his knuckles, and slips off the couch, taking his warmth with him. "I'll make tea, you get comfortable."

It takes a few seconds for Jude to catch on, his head is such a mess, but he feels the familiar whisper of Amir's power twining through his thoughts. Oh.

They've done this before, more than once, when Amir's asked about fantasies of his and he was too embarrassed to say them aloud. It took some practice, but Amir has always been careful, never probed too deeply, and never without Jude's express permission.

He focuses on the pleasant background noise of Amir moving around his kitchen, the gentle thrum of his presence at the edge of his thoughts, and tries to put them in order.

Dinner was… awkward, to say the least, from the start. Jude isn't a talker, never really has been, so it was mostly him listening to his brothers ramble. Seth's youngest is starting middle school. Gabe got a promotion.

Seth asked what he’d been up to, not that he cared. Gabe snorted when he asked, which only proved the point. Jude just mumbled something about work and avoided eye contact. Played with his food. Wondered if his hometown had anything like the things he’d found out living in the city miles away. The conversation moved on without him, like it always did.

His brothers stopped picking on him about the same time he hit a growth spurt and outstripped both of them in height and not just weight. Well, they hadn’t stopped, exactly, just… didn’t push their luck like they used to. Like they did when they caught him sitting happily while their cousin, Lacey, put makeup on him as "practice" for cosmetology school. Like they did whenever his hair got long enough for them to to pull, before Dad got sick of him “looking like a girl” and shaved it off.

"I've got three boys, not two boys and whatever the hell you're tryin' to be."

And then Jude got bigger than him too, and he left him mostly to his own devices. Not without those snide comments here and there, but he was well used to it at that point.

His family is good at ignoring things that upset them–once they've stifled the offending party into silence, of course.

Jude came out when he was a teenager. His mother wept like someone had died. His father looked furious, but bit his tongue–though he spent the next few years making little digs about how lucky Jude was he didn't just kick him out to fend for himself. His brothers weren’t there, but they found out ;ater, and though they couldn't do anything to him physically at that point (head and shoulders taller and nearly twice as broad–and the Marlowe boys all took after their father in stature, Jude just took it further than that) they made sure he knew he was still their punching bag one way or another.

So when his mother asked him innocently, not thinking, hardly looking at him so much as smiling glibly at her family, and they both froze… well, it said more than if Jude had just out and told them he was getting railed by a demon on the regular.

At least he's not like those fairy boys. At least it's not in our faces. At least, at least, at least–

He hates that he still feels guilty. Guilty for ruining his mother's picture-perfect family. Guilty for being a consummate disappointment to his red-blooded American father. For taking his brothers' "friendly teasing" too personally. For missing the way he felt when Lacey put makeup on him and styled his hair and just let him want the things he could never admit to out loud.

For feeling bitter that she left him behind to pursue her own dreams while he was stuck cowering in the shadow cast by everything he was supposed to be.

He doesn't realize he's hyperventilating until Amir's hands, almost scalding hot against his clammy skin, are pressing against his cheeks, tipping his face upwards. He can’t figure out why the demon is so blurry, swimming before his eyes, when he’s too busy trying to remember how to get air into his lungs.

“Breathe, darling,” Amir urges him, firm but so gentle. Jude tries, and at first he only manages a few pathetic wheezes, but a low hum picks up at the base of his skull, a prickle like static skittering down his spine. For a split second, he’s paralyzed by a foreign surge of guilt, but it doesn’t feel heavy the way his own guilt does.

He sucks in a breath, one that makes his lungs burn, and grabs for Amir’s wrist with trembling fingers. “Not you,” he manages to strangle out, listing forward until he can bury his face in the crook of Amir’s neck. “Happens sometimes,” he mumbles in an effort to explain. Amir’s relief settles over him like a blanket, and he clings to it, to him, desperately, until he’s breathing again mostly normally.

He opens his mouth to apologize, but Amir cuts him off before he can even form the words.“None of that." Firm, brooking no argument, but still kindly tempered.

Obediently, Jude stays quiet, and Amir strokes his hair until the kettle chimes.

Rather than parting from him for even the short time it takes to prepare two cups of tea, Jude follows Amir to the kitchen, arms wrapped loosely around his waist, cheek pressed to his silky hair. His thoughts are staticky and nonlinear, feel like they're coming from somewhere beyond the boundaries of his skull. It's strangely peaceful, feeling like he's floating outside his body, like he's barely tethered to himself by just a few fragile threads.

Amir always smells so nice…

He's not sure when they wind up back on the sofa but he's holding a warm, delicate little cup in both hands. They share tea in easy silence, and if Jude's fingers are still trembling against his cup Amir doesn't mention it. Muzzily, he notes how fancy the cup is, and now that he's adjusted a bit to the staggering opulence of Amir's world, he finds the little things like that so endearing.

Jude is sluggish and heavy when Amir guides him to bed, and it doesn't take long at all for him to doze off, their positions from earlier reversed, with Amir curled around his back.

He's just awake enough to feel a little bit of that fire humming along his spine, the banked coals of Amir's temper pulsing between them, and he mumbles a half-hearted, "Please don't fight my family," into the luxuriously soft pillow smushed against his cheek.

There's a bit of a huff against his hair, something close to a laugh, but sleep finally pulls him under and blessedly quiets his overworked mind.

His dreams are washed over with a filter of wispy pink, but he doesn’t really remember much of them beyond that. Honestly, it's a bit of a relief. He wakes in Amir’s huge, soft bed, buried in plush pillows and blankets feeling surprisingly well-rested. Of course Amir is gone already, but Jude doesn’t take it personally. There’s a hurried little note on the nightstand on a scrap of sketchbook paper apologizing for his absence and assuring Jude they’ll meet again in the evening once he’s free of his responsibilities.

Jude tucks the note into his pocket as he dresses and leaves, feeling much lighter than he did when he arrived the night before.

~*~

He tried to get as much of the grime off his hands as he could before he left work, but Jude knows he looks like even more of a greasy schlub than he usually does when he comes ambling into Amir’s building. He brought his car this time, so he doesn’t have to go through the main entrance and deal with anybody grimacing at the state of his clothes, but he’s got a bag of fresh ones over his shoulder and he’s looking forward to a long, hot soak in Amir’s shower.

“I know, I reek,” he says sheepishly when he makes it to the door to Amir’s apartment.

Amir smiles indulgently at him, and gives him a kiss on the cheek regardless (even if he has to rise onto his toes a bit to do it, dressed down like he is) and only scrunches his nose a little. “Just a bit. I wouldn’t mind the sweat so much, but…”

“Engine oil and cheap cigarettes,” Jude laughs sheepishly. “Sorry, my boss likes menthols.” He gestures to the bathroom with his bag. “Mind if I…?”

Amir doesn’t hesitate to usher him down the hall as soon as he’s tugged off his boots at the door, and Jude plods along after him.

“I’d offer to wash your back,” Amir teases, watching Jude intently as he undresses, making a show of biting at his knuckle just to see him blush from his ears to his chest, “but I’ve got a few more things to take care of. Shouldn't take long, I'll be right outside.”

"Y-yeah, of course," Jude stutters, hands fumbling at his belt. Amir leaves him with another peck on the cheek and a sly parting smile, and while he was hoping for a nice hot shower after work, he's debating whether or not a cold one might be a better idea.

In the end, hot wins out. Amir's shower is like everything else in his orbit—spacious and ridiculously opulent to a degree that Jude's almost nervous interacting with it—but he's starting to enjoy the perks that come with drifting into that irresistible orbit himself. The water is just the right temperature, the pressure pounds down on his tight shoulders and back until he can finally feel them starting to un-knot themselves, and while he makes sure to get himself clean, he also spends a long while just standing under the spray with his head down and his hair hanging around his face like a wet curtain.

At some point, he hears the door click, some quiet rustling, but he doesn't pay it much attention. It's Amir's home, after all, he can come and go as he pleases.

Besides, it's not as if he hasn't seen Jude naked before, even if the thought still has heat crawling up his neck.

The door shuts again, and his mind goes blessedly quiet. The water doesn't go cold at any point (another thing that makes showering in his own too-small bathroom even more of a downgrade) but he knows he can't spend the whole night in here, however much he'd like to. He came for Amir, not his shower, though a little part of his brain does offer the helpful suggestion of trying to entice the succubus into joining him.

He snorts to himself as he slides open the frosted glass door, wringing out his hair. As if any attempt of his to be enticing towards someone like Amir, who drips easy sensuality in every breath he takes, would result in anything more than Jude falling all over himself like an idiot.

At least Amir finds it cute.

He reaches for a towel and steps out onto the plush bath mat, and stops short when he looks around the bathroom and doesn't see his bag.

Instead, sitting on the vanity in place of his ratty canvas backpack, is a shopping bag. What he can only assume is the name of the store is embossed on the sturdy, matte black paper in looping gold that matches the designs etched along the trim, but it's not a name he recognizes. Definitely someplace far outside the realm of a scruffy mechanic, that's for sure.

But there's something niggling at him, tickling at the edges of his thoughts, that suggests it's—

No, don't be stupid. Of course it isn't.

"Amir?" he calls out, eyes still glued on the bag as he awkwardly towels himself dry. Of course, Amir has the perfect timing to come swanning in when Jude's scrubbing at his hair, leaving the rest of him bare.

Amir does not hesitate to ogle, because he never does, and his smirk as his eyes take a luxurious stroll over every damp, hairy inch of human is nothing short of salacious. Jude's hair is still wet, but he can't resist the urge to drop the towel to cover himself a bit, which only makes Amir smirk wider.

"Yes, pet?"

It takes a moment for Jude to remember what he was even going to ask, because the casual little endearment never ceases to scramble his brain a bit.

(He's heard more than one person refer to him as Amir's pet, and he knows it's supposed to be an insult, but… he doesn't exactly hate it.)

He shakes his head to get it back on the right track, and winds the towel around his waist, eyes lowered. "Um, did you move my bag?"

Amir's heaves a dramatic, put-upon sigh. "I am begging you to let me replace that thing.” He is pointedly not looking at the bag on the counter.

"It still works just fine," Jude protests, smiling to himself. It’s something they’ve argued about before, if it can even be called an argument. It’s sweet, how Amir likes to spoil him. He shrugs a bit, ducking his head and letting his damp hair hide his face. “It’s sturdy. Dependable.” He's had it so long, it's almost like an old friend.

“Ugly as sin," Amir adds helpfully, rolling his eyes. But there's a smile playing around the edges of his lips. "You're lucky I think that sentimentality of yours is cute."

Jude's ears burn and he stays hidden behind his hair, but he's smiling too. Cute. Nobody but Amir's ever called him that (not since he was a chubby kid, at least) and he does it so freely and so often, Jude's starting to believe he honestly means it, even if he doesn't see it himself.

He feels Amir slinking closer more than he sees or hears him, bare feet nearly silent on the glossy tile compared to those staggering heels of his, and his breath hitches. He peeks from underneath his hair and is met with those stunning golden eyes and that playful, slightly predatory smile. “I… My clothes were in there, Amir,” he protests weakly, shuddering when soft, warm hands slip around his hips, fingers wiggling under the edge of his loosely wrapped towel, sharp nails pricking at his skin.

“Mmhm,” Amir hums. “Don’t worry, I haven’t thrown them out. I just figured you wouldn’t need them for a while yet.”

A quick, shuddery breath rattles out of him, at the end of it, a tremulous, "O-oh? Oh."

Amir chuckles and pokes Jude’s nose playfully. “Mind out of the gutter, darling. Since you’re playing coy, I’ll just come out and say it–I’ve gotten you a little gift, and the suspense of waiting for you to try it on is killing me.”

“I’m not… playing coy,” Jude protests weakly, but his eyes flick away from Amir for a split second, over his shoulder to the bag on the vanity, and like an eagle spotting a blissfully unaware rabbit, Amir zeroes in on the shift and leers at him, teeth bared like he wants to sink them into Jude's skin to taste the blood rushing to its surface, like the sweetest of threats.

"You're a terrible liar, but it's so precious that you tried," he purrs, smooth and dangerous. With a flick of his nimble fingers, the towel still clinging desperately to Jude's waist drops to the floor, and sharp nails dig into the meat of his hips just hard enough to make him whimper. "I think you've kept me waiting long enough, pet. Don't you?"

Amir doesn’t wait for him to respond (not that he’d be capable of it in the first place, mouth suddenly dry and tongue like lead) and simply herds him towards the vanity, and the gift on top of it. He swallows hard as he reaches out, glancing back as if to ask for permission before he even touches it. It’s given in the form of a silky chuckle and a not-quite-gentle pat to his bare backside.

The bag feels just as unspeakably high-end as it looks, the paper heavy and textured, and he didn’t notice before that the handles are gold silk ribbons to match the embossed letters. The name on the bag still isn’t ringing any bells, and he can't even imagine what might be inside, but with the way Amir is watching him, those gold eyes so sharp and intense he can feel the heat of their stare pricking at his skin, he's clearly eager for Jude to find out.

He parts the shimmery metallic tissue paper as delicately as he can with his heavy, callused hands, and finds a long flat box lying underneath. His heart is in his throat as he lifts it out of the bag, turning it over carefully in an effort to guess what it might be without damaging its contents.

Amir sighs behind him, and if Jude’s entire body weren’t thrumming with nerves, he’d look back to see if he’s checking a watch he isn’t actually wearing to drive home the point that his patience is wearing thin.

He opens the box. He almost can't parse what's inside at first.

Lace. Lots of lace. Pale, dusky pink lace edged along sheer fabric and adorned with delicate ribbons and thin gold chains.

Jude's no stranger to fancy lingerie—Amir wears it often enough, and he likes to model it for Jude, even if he's just as clueless about luxury fashion as he is about fine art. Jude's never once complained—in fact, he's found he really likes it, the textures and colors and cuts, the way the airy fabrics cling to the striking angles of Amir's body, the way he always chooses colors that compliment him so well…

Jude's mouth is suddenly very dry, the weight of Amir's expectant gaze pressing down on him, because he's seen the succubus in enough lacy underthings, and removed them enough, to have a rough understanding of the sizes he wears.

The pretty pink garments in the box are much too big to be meant for Amir.

He looks up, and Amir meets his eyes with a sly curl to his mouth. "Well?" he asks, stepping closer, watching Jude’s face, picking apart his reactions with an almost surgical precision. "What do you think?"

He’s not sure he can think anything right now, all of his thoughts a messy jumble of confusion and curiosity and (a bit shamefully) desire. He knows he shouldn’t be ashamed for what he feels, what he wants, but there’s a lifetime’s worth of it built around everything he’s wanted that wasn’t in line with what he was supposed to be, and he’s still digging his way through that.

He wets his lips with his tongue and stares into the velvet-lined box, still trying to make sense of everything he’s feeling. "Is it… are they… for me?"

It’s a stupid question, but there’s a part of him that still can’t believe it, is still scared this is either a dream or some sort of joke.

Amir laughs, low and sultry, reaching out to curl his ring-laden fingers around Jude's bicep. The touch is so simple, so soft, but it still spreads warmth through Jude's body. "Of course. Not really my color, is it?"

It isn't, Jude knows. Amir prefers bolder colors, stark contrasts, shimmer and shine to draw the eye. He tries to say as much, but what comes out of his mouth is a fumbling, "Y-you look good in everything."

That laugh again, a smoky, rich thing that sinks beneath his skin, curls in his gut and leaves him aching to hear it again and again and again. "You're so sweet," Amir says, scratching affectionately at his scruffy chin with his free hand. He squeezes the other around Jude’s arm, the tips of his nails a tantalizing pressure that makes his chest feel tight, makes his breath quicken. “Why don’t you go try them on, make sure I got the sizing right.”

He did. Of course he did, Jude couldn’t doubt for a second he would. There’s no way the set isn’t entirely bespoke, too, considering there’s no tags in sight to indicate sizing. There’s a bit of embroidery on the inside of each piece (panties, garters, belt, a frilly top that he struggles to identify) that he assumes is a brand signature or something like it.

Amir ushers him back into the bathroom, smiling playfully as he closes the door, and Jude is left to stare at the box in his hands and try to sort through his thoughts.

It’s easier, with Amir there to distract him, when he can’t focus so much on his nerves, or what his family would think of him, or what he thinks of himself.

He keeps his eyes down, away from the mirror, as he carefully takes each piece of the set out of the box. There’s enough room on the vanity for him to lay them out one by one, and he tries to think of it the same way he thinks of disassembling an engine. You have to go into it with a plan, you have to know how the parts fit together, and in what order. He arranges them in the way he thinks (hopes) they’ll need to go on his body, and takes a slow, deep breath.

The most daunting piece, it seems, will have to be the one that goes first. He picks up the panties, wincing when the calluses on his palms snag at the lace. He frantically checks for damage, his heart pounding, and sighs with relief when nothing seems to be out of place.

He looks over his shoulder, towards the door. Amir is quietly waiting on the other side, probably keeping himself busy with organizing his ever-crowded schedule while Jude has a quiet panic spiral about underwear in his bathroom. But he’s been waiting long enough, and though he teased, he’s been endlessly patient with Jude, and kind enough to get him not just a gift, but an expensive, custom gift he literally plucked from the human’s deepest, most secret desires.

Jude takes another grounding breath, and meticulously, cautiously, pulls the underwear on.

He knows he’s in trouble when a shudder works its way through him at the way the lace feels sliding up his legs, softer than he expected. He’s achingly aware of it whispering up his calves, stretching around his thighs, and nestle over his hips. It takes a bit of… adjustment in certain areas, but given that they were made specifically for his body (and that’s still something he can barely wrap his head around) everything, uh, settles in with surprising ease. It’s oddly comfortable and, more than that, it feels right.

He swallows so hard his throat clicks, and keeps his eyes steadfastly away from the mirror as he reaches for the next pieces–the stockings– with trembling hands.

Amir’s bathroom is practically the size of a studio apartment on its own, and thankfully there’s a seat near the vanity in the form of a plushy padded stool. He sits down and feels the panties shift and stretch around his hips and ass, and gently scrunches the first stocking. He tries to remember how people in movies put them on, and goes from there, bunching it and then pulling it slowly up his leg. It shouldn’t feel so sultry to basically be putting on socks, but the opaque material edged with more of that soft pink lace scraping gently against his skin is thrilling him beyond words. The second stocking doesn't fluster him any less, and he spends a moment or two just staring down at his legs, trying to make sense of what he's seeing, and what it might be awakening in him.

The belt and garters come next, and those at least are fairly simple. The belt is broad and subtly patterned, nipping his waist in a bit without being too restrictive. He spends what feels like an age just running his hands over the smooth, satiny panels before he clips the garters with their tiny bows to it and attaches them to the stockings.

The final piece is the top, with its spidersilk-thin gold chains attached a smooth satin ribbon, and sheer ruffled fabric flowing down from the bust. There’s a touch of fear that it won’t fit him, that he’ll move wrong and tear it while trying to put it on, but it really was made to fit his body, and the way the hem floats around his (doughy, hairy, and sort of pale) belly does a lot to hide some of his insecurities. It does emphasize his chest in a way he’s not sure he likes, clinging and translucent, but when he carefully fastens the ribbon around his neck and makes sure the chains attached to it aren’t tangled, he forgets his stalemate with the mirror and looks up.

For a moment, he forgets how to breathe.

He looks like himself, still big, broad, and heavyset, with dense muscle padded with a layer of fat and dusted with dark hair, but the contrast of the dusky, pale lace against sun-browned skin and muted tattoos is something that leaves him feeling things he’s not sure he can name.

As if on cue, there’s a dainty little rap on the door, and he jolts, fingers twisting together. Amir is still waiting, and he has no clue how long he’s been in the bathroom—it feels like hours.

He turns and stands at the door, hand hovering over the handle, and feels his stomach beginning to tie itself into knots.

Amir sees something in him that he doesn’t see for himself, and he knows that logically, but his brain isn’t always the most logical place, especially right now. There’s a sense of impending dread taking root in his chest, leaving it crowded and too-small, like his lungs hardly have the room to expand. He imagines, a bit panicky, Amir taking one look at him and bursting out laughing, or the more likely outcome of feigning interest, telling Jude he looks nice, then hurrying him to change back into his normal clothes and never speaking of this little venture again.

As if Amir senses the direction his thoughts are going, the door swings open, making Jude flinch and—pulse pounding in his ears, heart jumping into his throat—wanting to scramble for cover. But he’s frozen, a deer in the headlights, as the succubus drinks him in.

"Oh, look at you…" he croons, beckoning him out of the doorway (and, of course, he follows without thinking) so he can circle him like he's sizing him up, like he’s taking in every inch of him before he pounces. "So pretty."

Jude couldn't feel more bare if he were actually naked, especially with the way the succubus is pulling him apart with just his molten gold eyes. But he can't get too caught up in that when he's left reeling over one simple word.

Pretty.

Nobody's ever called him pretty before.

Something slots into place in his chest, settles in and unfurls, a shuddering realization of a desire he never knew he held being fulfilled.

He never knew he wanted to be pretty, but it… it makes sense. And it feels good.

“I’ll admit, I took a bit of a risk,” Amir says, and there’s no teasing to his tone this time, just quiet consideration, a tenderness that makes Jude feel just as weak and helpless as his bold innuendo and sultry purring. “It was just a little hint of something I saw after…”

His expression shifts, brows furrowing, mouth curling. There's the faintest hint of that simmering anger he works so hard to hide. He doesn’t have to say anything, and Jude is grateful that he doesn’t. His thoughts were all over the place the night he had dinner with his family, he’s not surprised Amir managed to find the things he didn’t let himself think about, things he’d been struggling to bury for a good two decades, when all his old hurts were bubbling to the surface and he didn’t have the strength to push them down again.

“It was a guess,” Amir continues, easing closer, looking up with his head tilted, hair spilling over his shoulder in a glossy fall that Jude wants to hide in, bend himself practically in half so he can tuck away somewhere he actually feels safe, but he’s rooted to the spot feeling more exposed than he’s ever felt in his life. At least here, out in the open, he gets to see the way a slow smile starts to curl Amir’s lips again, softly smug. “But I think it’s safe to say it was a good one.”

Amir is so close, the heat of his body is almost enough to have Jude sweating, scantily clad as he is.

That could just as easily be nerves, or rather, anticipation.

Without his heels, Amir's a good six inches shorter than Jude, but it doesn't matter much with a presence like his. He effortlessly fills any room he struts into, and Jude's been helplessly drawn to him since the beginning. The demon stares at him with smoldering eyes, a gaze that clings to his skin like honey, thick and molten and saccharine, dripping from the ribbon at his throat, the slender chains connecting it to the top, and lingering at the bust for a long breathless moment before sliding down to the belt, the garters–

Jude shifts on the spot, shivers at the alien sensation of the stockings rubbing against the carpet, and tries to be subtle when he drops his hands to cover himself a bit. Unfortunately, it's not really possible for a man his size to be subtle in anything.

And then there's a swirl of mild disorientation, the sensation of breath against his ear, and a whisper in his mind that sends a shudder through his body.

No hiding, darling. I want to look at you.

Amir's lips don't move, but his eyes are so intent it feels like a physical touch. He takes his sweet time looking Jude over, admires him from every angle. Jude holds still obediently, doesn't try to hide, and he’s rewarded for his good behavior when Amir finally, finally touches him again, fingertips tracing along where the lace clings to his skin, where the softness of his hip spills out over the waistband of the panties, the lines the garters draw down his thick, hairy thighs to connect to the stockings and back up to slip under the floaty hem of the top and prickle his nails along the band that’s doing its best to support his ample chest.

His skin is burning now, between the hearthfire heat Amir radiates and his own blood rushing, and he’s starting to feel the shift in the atmosphere from an almost artistic appreciation to something a little more focused.

He’s not sure he can take much more of that focus, but thankfully Amir is very good at distracting him when he’s starting to feel overwhelmed. It just so happens that, in the current case, that distraction comes in the form of crowding him back into the nearest wall and pawing at him.

"W…wait," he whines out, helplessly squirming against the wall. He’s been able to restrain himself up to this point, to manage the low thrum of arousal building up in his gut since he starting pulling on all the satin and lace, but he can already feel himself straining against the delicate panties with Amir grabbing two big handfuls of his ass and squeezing. "I don't… I don't want to… mess these up."

There were no price tags, but he knows this has to be one of Amir's more expensive gifts. He's heard enough women in his life complain that just the mass-produced stuff is pricey, much less bespoke luxury lingerie. He can't even begin to guess how much Amir spent on what he's wearing, and he's honestly afraid to think about it too hard.

Amir laughs, something low and throaty that echoes sweetly in Jude's ribcage, settles heavy in his belly, and he tugs the human down to his level by the slip of ribbon around his throat. "Oh, darling," he coos indulgently, honey-sweet and just a touch condescending in that way Jude has gotten a little addicted to, "do you really think I only got you one set?"

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jung-shook-iieee · 1 year

Text

Darkside 2 | PJM

➳ pairing: Jimin x reader

➳ rating: M (gore violence, implied dubcon.)

➳ genre: arranged marriage au, dark themed.

➳ summary: after the demise of your father, you were forced to marry a mob boss who was a decade older than you. Jimin has always been ruthless and marrying someone like him wasn't your first choice, but living with him made you crave for his attention. For getting his attention you were repeatedly acting out until one day he decided to take the matter in his own hands.

➳ warnings: spanking, fingering ( not much described), use of curse words, orgasm denial, gore violence, slight exhibition, dark themed, implied dubcon, reader se def scared of jimin, jungkook is fucking sexy you know? And jimin is in full daaddy mode lmao, overall it's really fucked up and dark and yeah it's a 18+ so if you feel uncomfortable do not read further.

➳ word count: 5k , (pt.ii) ( pt i)

Masterlist

➳ a/n: woah, it took me so long to post it but yk my exam is tomorrow and i don't know what the fuck I'll write but here is it so enjoy? And i haven't proofread it so genuinely sorry for any grammer mistakes. ( I know this story is fucked up so don't come at me. Okay?) Reblog if you like it tho. <3333333

➳ PARK JIMIN YA'LLLLL

➳ a/n2: I do not support this kind of activities in general, it's just a fiction and I do not own anybody. Please understand the difference between fiction and reality. And please enjoy. <33

You could hear them downstairs. The men your husband had over. It seemed like there was two-three of them, plus your husband. Drinking alcohol and talking in low voices. Probably going over some illegal deal - not that you cared. You took a deep breath and looked down at your outfit for the night - a lacy black nighty with a plunging neckline - sinfully short too, with the hemline barely brushing against your upper thighs. You knew if you bent down, it would leave nothing to the imagination. And panties? Who needed them?

Slowly, you made your way down the stairs, each step feeling more excited than the last. You had never really disobeyed Jimin so blatantly before. A part of you, despite everything, was still scared of the big bad mob boss he was. But a larger part of you was irritated by his apathy, how he acted like you didn't even exist. At this point, you'd do anything to get somekind of reaction out of him - which is why you were in your current state.

The cold air hit you hard when you entered the living room. The serious chatter between the men seemed to cease almost immediately as you slowly made your way across the room, not sparing any of them a glance - not even Jimin. You made sure to wink your hips with every step, knowing that every single eye in that room was currently on you - even Jimin

You made your way into the kitchen, exhaling the breath you'd been holding in. You hadn't thought too far ahead with your plan, but decided to grab the leftovers of ttaekboki, since you didn't get to eat it properly.

You could hear them chuckling and whispering to each other until one's voice chimes in, " Well Mr. Park, who's she? Is she your whore? " You wrinkled your nose in disgust. These men were sure not from the local or else they would've known you. No men dared to look at you, let calling you a whore alone.

" You gotta introduce her to us man, I bet she must be good that's why you're keeping her around. Huh? " Another unfamiliar voice chimed in. God why the hell Jimin even invited them over? Shitty perverts.

" I'm his wife and hello to you too. " You said casually leaning over the marble top giving them a show. Even though the lights were dim in the kitchen but still they could see your cleavage. It was cold, your nipples were poking out from the silk material.

You dared to make eye contact with Jimin and you could've sweared your blood ran cold just from his gaze only. He's a master in controlling his facial expressions but the way he was eyeing you up and down with cold,stoic expression on his face told you that he was beyond pissed. His fist was clenched tight, turning white and your coy smile instantly faded.

You regretted coming down, yes, you did and you were about to stood back quickly when suddenly Jimin stood up and smiled at you, the kind of smile which told you that you fucked up. He started walking towards like he's going to beat the shit of you.

" Excuse me everyone, this is my wife. Park Y/N." He said smoothly and walked beside you. He roughly pulled you by your waist more close. A squeek left your mouth and you did not dared to look him in the eyes.

He tugged you forward walking towards the guest. "It seems like my wife is definitely confused because I clearly told her that she isn't allowed to come downstairs. But -" He paused, and you stuck your chin up and gave him the biggest glare you could muster up.

But unfortunately for her, she's disobeyed me." Jimin finished, looking at you and reaching out and grabbing your wrist roughly. The calmness in his demeanour was making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, but you'd sooner die than give away that you were definitely scared. You tried to twist out of his death grip but to no avail. And he was literally crushing your wrist with how hard he was holding it.

" Let go of me. " You hissed at him, knowing full well that you were basically putting on a free show for everyone else in the room, and they were hanging on to every word you spoke. Jimin didn't even spare you a glance.

"So, you gentlemen will have to excuse me while I go see to my wife. As you can see, she's being a bratt and needs disciplining. Jungkook, take some more beer out for these guys. They'll sit and wait while I finish with her, won't you?" asked his right hand guy and othrs, except you knew it wasn't really a question.

" Sure park we understand it would be so nice if you would tame her in front of us. It would be a sight to behold. " One of them said adjusting his bulge. He had the audacity to say this to jimin and you wondered why jimin only smiled at him. It wasn't the nicest smile of his, which definitely gave you goosebumps.

Jimin said something to jungkook in foreign language, something only which jungkook understood and smirked.

The whispering drowned in the background as jimin started dragging you roughly towards his room. The look on his face was unreadable, regarding His actions his expressions were calm. The grip on your wrist kept getting tighter and your heart was thudding out of your chest.

Let go of me, you fucking jerk!" You swore, wiggling around, your small fists landing on his muscular back. Your small fist's punch would probably doing nothing to his built body. You felt embarrassed as everyone eyed you shamelessly while your own husband dragged you like some sack of potatoes.

" FUCKING LEAVE MY HAND YOU ASSHOLE. " You swored again as you entered his bedroom and surprisingly he did. With a blink of an eye he pushed you roughly on the bed making you whimper from the harsh act.

" Fuck you bastard you're so fucking crazy they were calling me whore and you yourself treated me like one in front of them. How fucking dare you. " You spat every word laced with venom, Your nose was flaring up, You tried to get up, planning to storm out of his room and run into yours and lock the door and just get the fuck away from him.

Easily, jimin overpowered you, roughly pushing you back down onto the bed when you tried to make a run for it. And again, you tried to get up, because fuck if you'd let this man get the best of you. You attempted to shove him aside, except he was built like a brick wall and didn't budge an inch. That was when he grabbed your jaw roughly, jerking your face forward to meet his gaze.

"Keep fucking talking, you dumb bitch, I dare you." He hissed, his thumb and forefinger pressing so hard into your skin, enough to bruise. It got your eyes tearing. No one ever in your life has treated you like this.

" If you keep acting up like this y/n then I'll have to do something really bad. " He threatened by pressing you harder against the mattress, he hovered you, arms on both sides and trapping you in between. He was looking down at you so dangerously.

" Fuck you. " You seethed through clench teeth and wriggled more vigorously. You scratched jimin's neck in the process, blood started trickling down his neck but you did not felt sorry for him instead you again aimed to scratch there but this time jimin slapped you across the cheek.

It left you stunned. You did not dared to turn your head the other side. " You have the fucking audacity", began quietly, face inches away from yours, "To parade around downstairs in this fucking clothes, acting like you're a free piece of ass. I don't know if you're asking for it, or just plain fucking stupid."

" Bastard. " You said in low voice, your throat was sore from all the shouting earlier.

" And that filthy mouth of yours. Damn! Y/n you just annoy the shit out of me sometimes. " He continued. "And to think I was going easy on you all this time. Excusing your behaviour 'cause you're young and stupid." He shook you, hard. "Not anymore. You're a fucking spoiled little rich brat, and clearly your daddy didn't fucking think it was important to teach you some manners and respect."

And before you knew jimin manhandled you, You scratched and clawed to try and escape his grasp, but in two seconds flat he was sitting on the side of his bed with you over his knee, your thrashing legs pinned underneath his strong thigh. Red hot embarrassment coursed through your veins - how dare he put you over his knee like this! In a position so demeaning?

" Let go of me jimin I swear -"

You were cut short when you felt his hand on your ass. His rough, calloused palm stroked the silky material of the chemise that barely concealed your bare skin, and involuntarily you sucked in your breath sharply. What the fuck was he doing?

" You should have been disciplined a long time ago but looks like your daddy was a shit huh? " He chuckled, how could he even dare to insult your dead father. " He clearly did not bothered to teach you some manners? " He caressed your flesh over the silk material.

" Shut your fucki-" He did not even let you finish and suddenly grabbed the soft flesh roughly And you couldn't help but gasp - both at his touch and at the jolt you felt between your legs. What the fuck. No. Fuck no. This wasn't happening. He continued to fondle your ass, touching you as if you were a piece of meat on display. " How about I teach you some fucking manners my dear wife? " He asked Mockingly.

" You're fucking sick." You gasped, determinedly ignoring the way your pussy clenched at his words. With all your might, you tried once more to wiggle out of his grasp. Your motions ceased immediately when his palm cracked down on your ass. Hard. And you cried out in both pain and shock.

"You try and move one more time, and I'll use my fucking belt." jimin warned, the threat making your mouth run dry. You immediately fell limp against him, breathing hard from fighting this losing battle. Fuck him. Fuck him for taking you over his knee and spanking you like you were a child. You hung your head, squeezing your eyes shut to keep the tears of anger and embarrassment at bay.

That's more fucking like it." Jimin said, once more going back to squeezing your stinging ass, as if to rub salt on the wound. You bit your lip at the pain, and debated calling for help. And it seemed like he could read your mind: "And by all fucking means, yell and scream all you want. The door's wide open, princess. They can all hear you. But if you think anyone's coming to save you, you're dumber than I thought."

"You... You can't do this." You said, voice breaking but still having a bit of fight left in you.

Jimin lifted the flimsy material of the chemise, exposing your ass to his cold stare. "That's where you're wrong, princess. I can do this. I'm the only fucking one who can do this. And you're gonna take it. Because you deserve it. You deserve to be punished for flaunting your fucking body as if it's not already been claimed."

SMACK

The first hit sounded like the crack of a whip, and stung just as bad. You couldn't help but cry out in pain, knowing you were giving him the very reaction he wanted from you. And how you wished you were stronger, calmer, cooler, more collected. You wished you hadn't given him the satisfaction of hearing your cries of pain. But it hurt like a bitch. So then why could you feel the wetness pooling between your legs?

And it was like Jimin was unleashing hell on your ass, with smack after smack raining down angrily onto your sensitive skin. It was like all his hatred rested in the palm of his hand, which cracked down against your ass with full force, making you scream every time it did.

" Dumb fucking slut." He said through clenched teeth, the spanks never ceasing as he continued to talk. "And to think I felt sorry for you. For being forced into this. To think I left you alone. Didn't say shit when you were in my house, -"

As he was talking to you, you heard a loud series of cries, which immediately made you stiffer. You instantly clutched his biceps because you were scared. You did not know the source and the cries only grew louder along with a sound of hitting something very hard to be precise.

" Jim- is- down- who........ " You mumbled being scared of those atrocious sounds.

" Y/N focus on me. " Jimin ordered with an authority and you couldn't deny him so you nodded your head. Still scared you started sobbing softly.

He grabbed your hairs and pulled you backwards towards him, " Don't ever dare to cut me in between. No one have that power over me got that? " He tugged it harshly making you cry loudly.

" Answer baby....? " He again tugged it.

" Ye-s.... Y-es.. Please I'm so-rry. " You begged. All the faint arousal you felt till now vanished in a blink. You weren't aroused now, not even a bit. You were plain scared. Scared of what might happening downstairs.

" Good, so where was I? Huh I was saying you using my credit card, acting like a spoilt little bitch. Complaining about everything under the fucking sun. And you think you could keep your fucking act for long huh? " He completed his sentence and smacked your butt hard.

To be honest you couldn't focus on jimin properly because the loud muffles and cries could be heard real fucking good from downstairs. And jimin noticed that and he wasn't really happy about it.

He told you to focus on him. Didn't he? But you being the spoiled brat pissed jimin even more.

This time he spanked you really hard, which left you howl in pain.. Wriggling around furiously, you faint sobs turned into ugly ones. " It fucking hurts pleaseeeee. " You begged with whatever energy was left within you.

" Good it should fucking hurt. I told you to focus on me did not I? " He turned you around and manhandled you onto your knees. Your face was red, eyes puffy, lips swollen from all the harsh tugs you gave yourself to keep quiet. " But you had your fucking focus on anything but me. " He wrapped his hands around your neck and squeezed tight. "L-eav-ee.. So-rr-.. Pleas-" The oxygen was cutting, your eyes we're rolling back.

Jimin released your throat giving you a light slap on your cheek. He took in your condition for a good two minutes. And within those two minutes you felt exposed, embarrassed, self conscious and what not. Anyone in your place right now would want to jump from the cliff, he turned you into this condition of yours. He was the reason why you felt ashamed and pathetic.

Jimin stood up from the bed and fixed his obvious bulge, he raked his fingers through his hairs and patted your hair. " Come on stand up. " He helped you in getting up. He wiped your cheeks with his hand, pushed back all the strands of hair which were covering your beautiful face.

" Not so sassy now, are you? " He taunted while sucking his lower lip between his teeth. That coy smile was taunting you. He leaned down and kissed your cheek. Then took your small hands into his and started walking towards the stairs.

" I - need to- chan-ge.. Pleas-ee. " You somehow managed to say that, even though your mind was telling you to keep your mouth shut. Jimin laughed, throwing his head back., " Why now? You should have used your little brain before baby but don't worry now they won't mind. " He said and dragged you downstairs even though you struggled to stay back.

You were feeling scared as jimin dragged you downstairs, the smell instantly hit you, making you nauseous. The iron smell was so strong that it was surely blocking your senses. 1...2...3...4....steps and then you entered the hall. You screamed so loudly that all the heads in the room turned towards you.

No, it must be a dream. The sight in front of you was too disturbing to see. There was a pool of blood on the floor, jungkook's hands were bloody, but the blood wasn't of him. His hair were messy, a few buttons from his shirt were ripped off, other guards were also in the same condition.

Those three men who insulted you were on their knees, fucked out, beaten into a pulp, they were shivering and covered in their on blood.

You unconsciously tried to take a step back but then you remembered jimin was next to you. He quickly tightened his grip over your arms and dragged you forward. You started crying, you were feeling dizzy and felt like vomiting when your feet came in contact with the cold yet warm blood.

" Please, please, please, don-t do this.. I want to go back please ji-min.. " You begged, hell you would beg a hundred time more right now. Fuck your self respect you just want to go back to your room, hide under the covers and cry.

" Sshh baby, you should not cry... They deserved it. You remember how they called you names. Don't you? " Jimin cooed at you, stroking your back while maintaining the tight grip over your arms.

" They dared to disrespect you, my wife. But don't worry I'm still not finished with them. " Jimin chuckled and roughly dragged you towards the couch, so you could get a perfect view of jungkook's art.

To be honest it was the most jimin had ever spoken to you, and you never wished to see him like this.

He sat on the couch and made you sit on his lap. You were scared to death. You were shivering, not because of the cold but because of the fear. Sweat was trickling down your forehead and neck but you couldn't utter a word right now.

" So, what we're you saying noah? Repeat your words.! " Jimin whispered said to one of the men who insulted you. The guy was literally unconscious, he couldn't even open his eye properly. When the guy did not replied jungkook grabbed his hair and shook his head sideways. Thr lateral groaned in pain.

" Say something buddy, I'm waiting.!! " Jimin said as he fumbled with your nighty straps. You were traumatized, couldn't utter a word, the tears were continuously flowing down.

" Bas-t-ar-d. " The guy barely said and instantly received a punch from jungkook. The action made you shriek loudly. You did not want to be here. Even if those guys called you a whore, you don't want them to die.

" Shut up will you? I'm talking right here ain't I?? " Jimin grabbed your chin and turned his side harshly, you Whimpered as you looked into his eyes. They were emotionless, this jimin right here, in front of you was different.

" m'sorr-y.... Please. Please. Jus-t... I won-t do that again. Please. " You begged, with your hands joined in front of him.

" I will let you go princess, but we have to give them a show. They're our guest. Sit pretty and listen to me now. Won't you? " Jimin pecked your lips as he cooed at you. Stroking your wet cheeks with his thick fingers and pushing back the hair from your face.

" No. No-No... Pleas- No. " Your eyes widened, you cried loudly and struggled against his body. You were trying to get up but jimin easily held you in place.

" Sshhh... You don't want me to fuck you on the floor. Now would you? " Jimin warned and in one quick movement he tore the lace material off your body. You screamed and cried, he was being inhuman. How could he do these things in front of other people?

" Come on y/n, jungkook did so much for you! He deserves a show as well. Would you like that jeon? " He asked from the brown hair boy sheepishly.

" Anything you want Hyung. " The boy replied with a smirk on his face and jimin signaled the other guards to leave the place.

" I swe-ar i would not dis-obey you again. Jimi-n please dontt do th-is... Please. I promise I Will li-ssten to you. Promise.. Please just don-tt. " You furiously begged, at the moment you would do anything to change your husband's mind. But it was too late he already started separating your legs roughly, and flicked your nipples with other hand.

He stopped and looked at you, " See, princess? See how easy it is for me to break you? To reduce you to a crying mess?" He stroked his finger against your cheek, gathering the salty tears that were drying against the soft skin. His touch was feather-soft, intimate. And you felt so humiliated, so defeated, so conflicted - and now it confused you why he was being so gentle.

You sniffled. No other man had ever reduced you to feeling like a humiliated, kicked puppy. "I was just... I just... Please." It was like you couldn't gather yourself, couldn't tame your thoughts which seemed to be running every which way.

Jimin's hand slowly slid down your thighs and ghosted over your pussy. " Don't cry baby this will only teach you a lesson. You thought I was some local mafia? On whom you could shout, blame, curse anytime? No baby, I'm the fuckin king. " Jimin stated as hi flicked your clit lightly. You weren't in your senses right now, you couldn't believe your eyes and ears.

You audibly gasped, the sudden direct contact making you almost convulse forward into his chest. You grabbed a fistful of his white shirt, scrunching your eyes shut and wishing to God that maybe he will stop tormenting you, that maybe he could feel pitty for you.

" You're soaking baby..... You really are crazy my lady. " Jimin fake gasped, easing a thick finger into your pussy. And you cried into his chest, hating that after beating the living shit out of your ass, and scaring the daylights out of you this man had casually just began fingering you and it felt so fucking good. You prayed he or jungkook wouldn’t notice when you began to slowly hump against his finger, wanting to create more friction. He chuckled, “You’re a naughty fucking slut, aren’t you? All riled up and on edge, wet from all this mess in front of you, Now you want your daddy to take care of you, don’t you?”

You were too ashamed to reply, your face still buried in his chest, your tears staining his shirt and your lips bitten raw from trying to suppress your moans. Jimin added another finger and increased his pace, his thumb finding your clit and causing you to cry out. He smirked, “Who knew how easy it was to get you to shut your mouth. You got nothing to say anymore, baby? Where’s my little wife who loves to run her mouth, huh? Where’s she gone?”

Please,” You mewled softly, arching your back from the mounting pleasure, his fingers curving upwards and brushing against all the right spots. His thumb expertly massaged your clit, as if he knew your body, knew exactly how it worked. As if this wasn’t the first time he was touching you down there. “Please, I just…”

Immediately, jimin pulled his fingers out of you, your pussy making a squelching sound – as if it was trying to keep his fingers inside you. The heightened pleasure you were feeling instantly died down, and you cried out in indignation, “Wh-What! No! Please!” You gripped his forearm, “Please!”

“You don’t deserve shit after that stunt you pulled earlier baby.” jimin said simply. His eyes trailed towards the three barely alive body's and on jungkook who was no doubt enjoying the show and then back at you. He sighed, his fingers, soaking with your juices, now absentmindedly playing with the lacy borders of your ruined nighty which now sat bunched up around your waist. “You ruined my meeting, sweetheart. And now, you’ve distracted me.”

You swallowed harshly when he took your hand, placing it on top of his clothed dick. God, he was so hard. Painfully hard.

" Clean up the mess jungkook, will you? " Jimin said standing up, straightening the creases he got over his trousers.

" Don't kill them yet, I want them alive. Move to basement and I'll be there shortly. " Jimin ordered jungkook and the boy nodded in response like a fucking robot. He too had no emotions no guilt in his eyes and body language. They all are beyond your imagination.

Your husband turned towards you and offered you a hand, " Come baby, you still got to learn so much. I'll make sure everything stays in your pea size brain. " Words took a few seconds to register in your mind. It's not the end, he still has so much in his mind. How will you survive this?

YOU HAD ABSOLUTELY NO FUCKING IDEA.!

Taglist

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 4 years

Text

In the cloak of the night

Summary: A night on which your friend ditched you, turned out to be the most eventful night you maybe had in your life. All thanks to the tall and handsome stranger you met and who couldn’t keep his hands to himself. Not even when you were waiting for the bus to take both of you to your place...

Pairing: Syverson / F!Reader

Wordcount: 2.586

Warnings: alcohol, smut. exhibtionism, dirty talk

A/N: With a two day delay it’s here. Enjoy *winks*

Taglist in reblog. Join my Taglist here

By now you were pretty sure your friend wouldn’t be joining you in the pub. It was Saturday, you were wearing a way too short skirt and all you wanted to do was get drunk with your best friend on the day you would have gotten married.

That was if you hadn’t found out your ex fiance had another fiance in another part of town. The things you discovered ever since you broke the engagement could be straight out of a novel.

That was now six months ago.

Sighing, you leaned with your head on your hand ordering yourself another Gin Tonic. That really was typical. She kept nagging you about to go out more, to make some effort and then she stood you up.

Rolling your eyes you decided to stay for the next drink and then make your way home. If you were quick, you could still catch another rerun of Charmed on tv.

Laughter from the other side of the pub made you turn your head to find out where it was coming from. A group of men in camouflage was sitting at the biggest table of the bar. You knew that a bunch of army people had been back from wherever they had been for the last few months, but you didn’t know it had been that many.

A pair of blue eyes meet yours out of the group of men. He had very short dark hair, a wild scruff in his face hiding most of his face from view. For what felt like minutes he looked at you, his eyes not leaving yours until you both snapped out of it, him because somebody wanted something and you because another glass of gin tonic was set down in front of you.

For the next half hour, you casually looked over your shoulder, to steal another gaze but he was nowhere to be seen. You huffed. Story of your life.

You weren’t a supermodel, but you were happy with how you looked. Sure you could work out more, your mother kept saying that you never would find a man again if you didn’t put a bit more effort in how you looked, yet as long as you were happy, you wouldn’t give a damn.

“Excuse me?” Someone asked beside you. Already sighing, you turned around only to find the man from earlier staring down at you. If his eyes were what caught your attention at first, the second was certainly his stature. He was huge. His biceps were probably bigger than your head. A little grin sneaked to his face when you didn’t say anything.

“Sorry.” You shyly said, probably blushing. He genuinely smiled at you, his face softening.

“I was wondering if I could invite you for a drink?” He asked.

“Aren’t you busy catching up with your guys?” You asked teasingly.

“Nah. I’ve seen those fuckers every day for 5 months.” He laughed, his hand coming up to rub the back of his head.

“Blink once if you need someone to save you.” You leaned in and whispered. He looked at you surprised and you could see a fleck of brown in his left eye. He winked once at you, making you laugh, before he sat down on the seat next to you.

“What can I get ya?” He asked, already waving to the waiter.

“Nothing yet.” You pointed to your still half full glass.

“Well then, I’d like a beer and some mozzarella sticks.” He said.

He told you his name was Sy and he was an army captain just back from a 5 month stay in Iraq. He’d be home for three months before he had to go back for another 5 months before he was done for good.

“Isn’t that hard?” You asked.

“You get used to it.” He shrugged. The longer you talked the more both of you had turned towards another.

“It’s not like I have much to come back here to anyway. I have my dog and my mom.”

“No friends?” You asked. He shook his head.

“Not really. I never invested time in friends because I’m not around much.”

“That sounds lonely. What about girlfriends?” You sucked your bottom lip in. He looked at you for a while, his eyes not leaving yours.

“No girlfriends. I mean there was this woman I loved but…” He shook his head looking away from you. You reached for his arm and waited until he looked at you.

“I get it. Let’s not talk about it,” you said quietly. He nodded at you and you dared to steal one of his mozzarella sticks.

“Didn’t take you for a thief.” He chuckled.

“You’ve known me for an hour, Captain. You haven’t even scratched the surface on who I am.” You winked, eating the mozzarella stick.

An hour later you found yourself in his arms as you danced along to the band that was performing on stage. You were standing with your back against his chest, his arms around your waist. He was so tall, his head didn’t even have to rest on top of yours. The fact that he was so much bigger than you was making you all kinds of tingly.

His fingers brushed over the exposed skin of your stomach. You could feel his hard muscles on your back. He was exactly what you needed. A man who you knew you would have no future with because he would leave in a matter of time. That didn’t mean you couldn’t have some fun. You never had a one night stand in your life but….

Turning in his arms you looked up at him before you could talk yourself out of it and grinned up at him.

“Come down here.” You said, and when he leaned down you kissed him, catching him by surprise. He groaned against your lips, as his arms pulled you closer, his tongue brushing over your lips, deepening the kiss. Grasping the fabric of his shirt you clang to him. One of his hands on your back sneaking under your shirt, caressing your skin. He tasted of beer and something unique you were growing addicted to.

The band finished their song, the crowd around you applauding.

“You wanna get out of here?” You asked against his lips. He nodded, before he kissed you again, taking your hand and going back to the bar where you left your stuff.

The very short way to the bus stop a little down the street took way longer than anticipated. Which could have to do with the fact that Sy couldn’t keep his hands off of you. His lips seemed to be glued to your neck and you were pretty sure you would end up with a hickey. Which was kinda hot.

When you came to a stop at the bus station and studied the plan, you sighed.

“Next bus will be here in 30 minutes,” you said. His arms sneaked around your waist, his chest pressed against your back and you could feel just how hard he was. Never in your life had you been this horny. For anyone really.

“I can’t wait that long,” he whispered against your ear as he leaned down, making you shiver.

“I think you can, big boy. It’s not like you can fuck me here out in the open.” You chuckled.

“And why is that?” He asked, his big hands running down your sides, resting on your thighs as you leaned into him.

“Because this is an open street and my bed is way more comfortable…” you argued, his lips kissing up your neck.

“My lap is very comfortable,” he whispered.

“I don’t have condoms…” You tilted your head, giving him more space.

“I have some…” He sucked on your earlobe, making you moan.

“Always prepared, Captain?” You teased.

“Better safe than sorry.” He grinned.

Where you really about to let a man you had met only hours before fuck you at a bus station?

“I promise I’ll make you cum on my tongue for the rest of the night…” He whispered against your ear, as one of his hands ran up your thigh.

“I haven’t had sex in 9 months…” you whimpered when you felt his hand between your legs.

“Try a year.” You let your head fall back against his shoulder.

“Fuck….” You closed your eyes. Your panties were soaked. Looking around the empty and dark street, the only light coming from the streetlamp next to the bus station, you decided to give in. He was right, you couldn’t wait until the bus was here.

Turning in his arms you ran your hands up his back to his neck, pulling him down so you could kiss him hard. He groaned against your lips and you opened your mouth for him as he picked you up and carried you to a bench where he sat down with you straddling him, his lips still on yours.

“Are we really doing this?” You asked, moaning when his hands landed on your ass under your skirt.

“We better, otherwise I gotta somehow take care of this boner.” He grinned, making you laugh. You kissed him again, your hands holding on to his shirt, slowly running down his chest until you felt the outline of his cock through his pants, making him hiss.

“I always thought only pornstars have cocks like that.” You chuckled.

“A Veteran as a porn star?” He asked, his eyebrow raised, as if he was thinking about it. One of his hands opened the buttons of the blouse you were wearing, exposing your lacy black bra.

“You’ll be a rich guy. Can I be your manager?” You joked, biting your lip when both of his hands massaged your boobs, his fingers harshly pulling the lace down, to expose your nipples to him.

“What do you want as payment?” He grinned, leaning down and sucked on one of your nipples, his eyes looking up at you. You felt his teeth pulling it making you whine, your hands flying up to hold onto his neck, your hips rolling on top of him, making him growl.

“Can we talk about that after you make me cum?” You whispered. The only answer you got was his other hand pulling at your other nipple, rolling it between his fingers.

“Sy... “ You moaned. He released your nipple with a plop, making you breathe in deep as he leaned back at the bench, looking at you with hungry eyes as his hand pulled out a condom out of his pants pocket. You bit your lip, casually looking around to make sure that there wasn’t anyone around.

“We could stop…” he said. All you did was take his hand, bringing it between your legs.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this wet, Captain. Any second thoughts?” You asked. He looked up at you, thinking, before you felt his fingers rubbing over your soaked panties.

“When we’re at your place…” He said quietly, pulling your panties to the side, as you opened his belt.

“I’m gonna fuck you on every flat surface that I can find.” You felt his finger exploring your pussy, making you breathe deeply to stop yourself from moaning as you opened the fly of his pants, your hand sneaking inside, not even surprised to find that he wasn’t wearing underwear. He hissed, when he felt your hand pull his cock out.

“I’m gonna fuck you, then I’m gonna let you nap and then you’re gonna wake up with my head buried between your thighs, eating you out ‘cause….” Two of his fingers pushed into you now, making you moan quietly.

You began to pump his cock, honestly wondering how it would fit inside of you. Yet you weren’t someone who said no to a challenge. He watched you with dark eyes as he pumped his fingers, adding another one before he pulled out and brought his finger to his lips, moaning as he tasted you.

“I knew it. Like honey…” He shook his head with a grin.

“You talk too much.” You grinned, pulling the condom out of his other hand, ripping it open.

He cocked his eyebrow at you as you pulled the condom over his cock, pumping a couple times. He leaned over, kissing you again, his hands on your ass, pulling you closer to him.

“You will find out that I’m a man of my word.” He whispered against your lips.

“Oh I don’t doubt that, Cap.” You grinned, slowly pushing yourself up so you were on your knees. You rolled your hips up and down his cock, holding on to his shoulders.

“Stop teasing, ‘Hon. Or I’d have to bend you over my knee.”

“Is that a promise?” You asked as you slowly lowered yourself down, his cock pushing slowly into you, making you both hold your breath until he was settled deep inside of you.

“”Fuck, Captain. I’m gonna feel you for days.” You moaned, slowly grinding on top of him.

“Oh no…” He shook his head, thrusting once up into you, making you whimper.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, you’ll never even think of another cock.” He promised, his hands on your hips as you began to ride him. Everytime you moved, his cock rubbed over your G-spot. You were so wet and horny, it wouldn’t take long for you to fall apart. His mouth found your breast, sucking on the skin just over your nipple. You were sure you would have bruises once he was finished with you. But you would wear them with pride.

“Fuck…. I’m close already.” You sighed, arching your back, pushing your boobs into his face, which made him growl.

“Me too ‘Hon.”

You put your hands in his neck and kissed him hard as he looked up at you. You felt his fingers on your clit, rubbing harsh circles, making you moan into his mouth as he began to thrust up, meeting you. You bit into his bottom lip, pulling it between your teeth as you parted from him and came so hard, you saw white for a second. He fucked you through your orgasm, holding you close to his chest.

“God you’re so tight… I’m gonna cum.” He groaned. And as you were still trying to get air into your lungs, his thrusts became sloppy until you felt him twitch inside of you.

“God I wish you’d cum inside me.” You whispered against his ear, making him groan.

“Woman, you will be the death of me.” He shook his head.

You didn’t even care if you looked like you’ve just been fucked as the bus arrived and you walked past the bus driver while Sy paid for the ride. He never let go of your hand, grinning at you, his eyes full of mischief. You didn’t believe in love at first sight… or fuck… but Goddamn this man and his blue eyes.

He motioned for you to walk to the back of the bus where he sat down and pulled you sideways on his lap so you could look at him.

Smiling, you ran your hand on his scruffy cheek, your thumb brushing over his lips.

“You are one of a kind, Captain.”

“And I’m at your service, Ma’am.” He grinned. “How many stops until we’re at your place?” He asked.

“Eight.” You said, sighing. The grin on his face got wider, making you frown.

“Then you better try to keep quiet.” He whispered, before his hand disappeared between your legs.

#fanfiction #syverson #captain syverson #henry cavill #syverson x reader #captain syverson x reader #syverson smut #fanfic #smut #oh boy here we go again

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christ0pher-evans · 3 years

Text

Mine

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader Warnings: 18+ Smut (overstimulation, praise, degradation) / Swearing / Slight Angst Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: This is my second Chris story - it stemmed from a smutty dream I had a few nights ago and I had to get it down in words. A little bit of possessive Chris never hurt anyone. Hope you enjoy!! Please reblog and like🖤

♡

You woke up, too early. It was a beautiful spring morning but the sun coming through the blinds had led to your current predicament at 6:15am. Chris was sleeping peacefully next to you, sheets down round his waist showing off his tan lines from your most recent beach holiday. You’d been home for 5 days and you still hadn’t stopped smiling.

You managed to sneak out of bed and grab Chris’ dress shirt from dinner with your parents the night before, slipping it on and doing the first couple of buttons up and heading down to the kitchen. You let Dodger out in the garden, leaning against the patio doors and watching him trot round the garden. The sunrise was breathtaking as it caught the gleam of the new diamond gracing your finger. This really did feel like a dream.

2 DAYS LATER You clapped profusely as Chris and all his co-stars came out onto the stage for their interview with Jimmy Kimmel. The premiere for Avengers: Endgame was tonight so you’d travelled with Chris to LA early so he could squeeze in an interview first.

You was sitting off to the side in front of the audience as Chris caught your eye, winking at you as he sat down and adjusted his trousers. You was twirling your engagement ring around your finger, distracted by the events that took place not even half an hour ago.

----------

Leaning against the wall, next to the door in Chris’ dressing room, you couldn’t help but admire Chris as he sorted out his hair in the mirror directly in front of you. It had been one week since Chris had proposed to you on the beach in Mexico and you were still in what your friends had been calling your ‘engagement honeymoon’, essentially meaning that you couldn’t stay away from one another, let alone try to keep your hands off of one another. Chris caught your eyes in the reflection and all you could do was bite your lip at the gorgeous man staring back at you.

Before you knew it, Chris had you pinned up against the wall, skirt up around your waist. You wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck as he reached down and flicked the lock on the door, then spreading his hands over your ass, gripping tightly to keep you in place. He was sponging kisses along your neck, biting down every now and again, eliciting groans from your mouth.

“Baby, you have to stay quiet.” All you could do was nod innocently, both of you knowing that was never going to happen.

“Open your mouth Y/N.” His words were hot and stern. You were like putty in his arms, you’d do anything he wanted when he spoke to you like that.

Your mouth dropped open and he leaned forward, slowly running his tongue along your bottom lip, dipping fully into your mouth haphazardly. Your hot breath panting against his own mouth only arousing you further. Replacing his tongue with two fingers, you slowly danced your tongue around them. You knew exactly where those fingers would end up and the anticipation was killing you.

----------

The clapping drew you away from your trance, realising you were biting down on your lip slightly too hard at the memory. You rubbed your thighs together, desperately trying to release some tension because you knew this was not the time nor place for your mind to be wandering.

You looked back up to everyone, noticing your Instagram feed on the big projection on the wall. Now understanding why everyone was clapping, Chris was being congratulated on your engagement. They flicked through the photos and you couldn’t help but smile.

The first photo was both of your silhouettes from afar, Chris down on one knee whilst he was sliding the ring onto your finger. The blood orange sunset in the background glistening on the ocean made for a gorgeous photo.

The second photo showed Chris with his arms wrapped around you tight, crossed over your chest as you both laughed towards the camera. Your hands were squeezing his biceps, the ring shining front and centre on your finger.

You couldn’t help but look over at Chris whilst they were showing the photos. His smile matched your own, reminiscing as if there was no better moment in the entire world than that.

The third photo popped up for everyone to see. Chris became the photographer and captured a photo just of you. You had your bikini on, grinning from ear to ear as a gust of wind had swept across the beach. Your hand was running through your hair, trying to clear it from your face as the sun was catching the diamond on your finger, making it sparkle.

As the photo had come up on the screen, all the men in the room cheered. You had always caught male attention due to the nature of your job, it came with the territory of being a model but it was always a touchy subject for Chris. Jimmy had reiterated how much of a lucky man Chris was as the audience clapped. RDJ was standing up and encouraging the cheering in the room whilst Jeremy Renner was wolf-whistling next to Chris, slapping him on the back in congratulations. To you, it was sweet, they were both just being supportive to your career, like they had always been but it wasn’t their fault that they didn’t know Chris’ apprehension to your job and the attention it attracted. You saw Chris tense up and look down at his feet. He stayed pretty quiet for the rest of the interview, only answering questions when absolutely necessary and putting on a fake smile.

You hadn’t stuck around after the interview, knowing that you only had three hours before you had to be ready for the premiere. Chris had stayed completely silent whilst he collected his stuff from the dressing room, not speaking to you at all whilst you were in the car on the way back to the hotel. The only signal you received to communicate that he was annoyed was the possessive grip he had on your thigh in the car.

As you headed into your hotel room, Chris threw his stuff on the bed and headed straight for the shower. You knew he needed time to cool off so you just busied yourself, staying out of his way.

It had been roughly 15 minutes since Chris stormed into the shower, and you had given him as much alone time as you could, but you needed the bathroom mirror to start prepping yourself for the premiere.

You took off your jumper so you were just in your bra and skirt, primarily so you didn’t spill any products on your jumper but also to try and coax Chris out of his strop.

You walked into the bathroom, which was large enough for you both. You realised that you didn’t even have to bother Chris, you could get ready without even having to divulge his attitude.

Just as you started to gather your products, Chris stepped out the shower, droplets of water dripping down his toned chest whilst he ran his hands through his hair. You couldn’t help but watch him through the mirror, always awestruck by how fucking hot he was. He didn’t even grab a towel, instead sauntering straight up behind you, trapping you in between his arms that were now on the bathroom side and staring into your eyes through the mirror, just like you had done with him in the dressing room hours earlier.

“Chris..” you whispered wearily, not wanting you upset him anymore than he already was. You saw his lips tighten into a fine line. Now worrying you’d already overstepped, you bit your lip. He cleared his throat, “Tell me you’re mine Y/N, only mine.”

You felt like you had held his gaze in the mirror minutes without saying anything, when in reality it had only been seconds.

“I said, tell me you’re mine!” He spoke in a raised tone whilst reaching around your front and ripping your lacy bra in half, eyeing you whilst your breasts bounced as they fell from the material.

Gasping, you spoke quickly, “I’m yours Chris, forever. Only yours.”

You knew he was just feeling slightly insecure about the male reaction to your Instagram photo, but he channelled that as frustration because he didn’t want to seem needy.

“Tell me what I have to do to prove it to you Chris!” He chuckled darkly and leaned forward so his lips were brushing against your ear.

“Oh baby, you don’t have to do anything. I’m going to show you that you’re only mine. Make you cum so many times that you won’t know anything but my name, you’ll just be begging for me.” Your legs almost buckled at his words, your panties immediately starting to soak through. You could only manage to catch his eye contact in the mirror and nod your head, not even sure what you were agreeing to.

“Good girl. I’m going to fuck you right here, make you watch too. Burn this image into your mind so hard that you’ll never be able to think of anyone else again.”

He didn’t waste any time, pulling your skirt up around your waist for the second time that day and pushing your panties down so they pooled round your ankles. You pushed back against his cock, smirking because you could already feel how hard he was. Hearing Chris moan as you bodies melted against one another, you knew he was turned on at the thought of you being completely at his submission, and to hell if it wasn’t turning you on too. He ran his hands all over your body, both of you consumed by the fire burning within. Placing kisses on any piece of skin he could reach starting from your shoulders as he peppered them all the way up your neck, you started to feel your juices seeping onto your thighs. He finally reached down to your centre, growling in happiness when he realised how wet you were.

“All for me baby” he growled, “Only I can do this to you.”

He used his foot to push your feet apart, giving him better access. He wasted no time in reaching round and pushed two fingers straight into your core, making you whimper. He stilled his fingers and looked at you in the mirror.

“You will only cum when I tell you to and when I tell you to, you will do as I say, every time.”

Again, all you could do was nod, whimpering out a tiny ‘please’ as you moved around on his fingers trying to encourage him. Before you knew it, he was thrusting his fingers in and out of you at a harsh pace, pleasure mixed with light pain that only spurred on your oncoming orgasm. Knowing you needed permission to cum, you squeezed around his fingers to try and control yourself. Chris knew exactly what you were trying to do.

“Oh baby, you want to cum already? God you really are a slut for me, all mine.”

Continuing his relentless pace, your breathing was erratic and you knew you couldn’t hold back much longer. You whimpered a string of begging, one of your hands gripping tightly to Chris’ wrist to try and slow him down as you caught his gaze in the mirror. You looked ruined and you hadn’t even cum yet.

“Chris, please! I... I can’t, I need to..”, your voice drowned out by your own uncontrollable moans. You watched as Chris leaned back in close to your ear, biting it harshly and moaning gruffly, “Cum.” One simple word, but you didn’t need to be told twice before you were cumming all over his fingers. However, he didn’t slow down, just carried on at his ruthless pace; telling you to cum again and again.

It had only been 20 minutes and Chris had already made you cum 3 times over his fingers. You were desperate to feel him inside of you, feel him taking what belonged to him but also because you didn’t know how much more you could take. You wanted to please Chris for as long as he wanted but your body was tired, your core so overstimulated that you could cry at the sensation, but you had to prove to him that every single fibre of your body was his.

“Please Chris, I need you.. I need all of you inside of me.”

He smirked and grabbed a tight grip on your jaw, pulling your face to turn round to him and drew you into a lewd yet romantic kiss. You knew in that moment that you truly did belong to him, always.

“Anything for you baby” he whispered in your ear as he slid into you at a painstakingly slow pace.

You braced yourself against the marbled bathroom side as Chris started thrusting into you, it was slow and controlled but deep and passionate at the same time. You were both panting, enjoying the slower motion, a layer of sweat glistening over both your bodies. However you didn’t know how long you could survive the teasing, the tantalising feel of the veins on Chris’ cock gliding against your walls. You wanted Chris to be merciless, to really fuck you so you only knew his name.

“Y/N, baby, say it again.”

You caught his eye in the reflection, a wave of confusion clouding your mind from its already blurry state before it dawned on you what he meant.

“Say it.” He started fucking you at a fierce pace, bottoming out every now and again as your eyes started to roll back.

“I’m yours. I love you. I belong to you.”

Your words stimulated you both further as Chris kept up his harsh pace, fucking you so you felt like you couldn’t even see straight anymore. All you heard was Chris permitting you to cum again as your fourth orgasm washed over you. Chris was holding you up at this point, your legs shaking uncontrollably.

In one swift move, he had spun you round and picked you up onto the counter, before sliding back in, but this time it felt more intimate. Your arms were wrapped around his neck, legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you than you thought possible; kissing him like your life depended on it.

“I’m yours”, you mumbled against his lips as his fingers started gently moving over your clit, putting you on course for your fifth orgasm. You were officially seeing stars, tears now falling from your eyes and you didn’t think you could physically take anymore. It was obvious that Chris knew he had achieved what he wanted, thrusting into you whilst kissing away the tears falling down your face.

“Give me one more baby, I know you can do it.”

Thrusting into you a few more times, gently swirling his thumb round your clit, Chris dragged one more orgasm from you before letting himself go, filling you with his cum. You collapsed forward onto his body, your own shaking from pleasure.

“Good girl”, you heard Chris whisper into your hair as he traced shapes down your spine.

You stayed like that, revelling in Chris’ delicate aftercare and praises for as long as possible, happy to just feel one another.

It was two hours later and you were red carpet ready, your burgundy silk silhouetted dress hugged you in all the right places, with small spaghetti straps that crossed over at the back and a small train pooling at the bottom. The only jewellery you had opted for was your engagement ring, the big diamond shining and matching your smile. You were looking in the mirror, adjusting your curled hair as Chris came up behind you.

Immediately, you turned to him, “Chris, you look so handsome!” He feigned embarrassment before looking you up and down.

“Baby, I look nothing compared to you. I’m so lucky to have you on my arm.”

You straightened his tie, smiling sweetly and noting how perfectly it matched your dress. This was your first red carpet with Chris. He had always protected you from his crazy side of the media, but now you couldn’t feel more confident to be next to him.

“You look so beautiful Y/N.”

You blushed one final time, still feeling slightly shaky on your legs, before taking one step closer to Chris. You carefully unbuttoned his suit jacket, running your hands over his chest through his crisp shirt, before innocently looking up at him. You giggled as you saw him smirking.

“Baby, you’re insatiable. You’ll have to wait till we are back later.”

You copied his smirk and winked, opening your clutch and pulling out a small bundled up piece of black lace. You slid it into Chris’ inside jacket pocket.

“Oh baby, you know I can’t resist you, but this is a little different..” You leaned into his ear, sucking on the lobe gently before whispering, “Those are my panties, the ones that I should be wearing right now. I want them to stay in your pocket all night, just so you have to spend the whole night knowing that I have nothing on under this dress.”

You kissed his cheek as you pulled back enough to see his face. You heard his breath catch in his throat as he eyed you up. You knew it was taking all his strength to not fuck you where you stood. You winked before strutting over to the hotel door.

“You coming Chris? We’re going to be late..”

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #chris evans fanfiction #smut #marvel #avengers

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cherrybracelets · 5 years

Text

party monster [b. hargrove x reader x s. harrington]

song inspo | billy playlist | steve playlist | masterlist

word count: 2.2k / warnings: ALL SMUT!!!!! 18+ only please!!!! oral (m & f receiving), alcohol mention

an: listen. y’all asked for this so i don’t wanna herE NUTHIN about this filth ok. if you like it, please give me feedback or a reblog! and check out my masterlist please!

There was no better feeling to you than the burn of tequila flowing down your throat after a long week. Getting hammered at the night club downtown was your way of ‘letting off steam’. Plus, being young and single was supposed to be fun- and you were planning to make the most of it.

So, tonight was another one of your many Friday nights with your friends dancing, drinking, and living your life to the fullest. You had already poured three shots down your throat, and were working on your second mojito. Things were just started to get giggly enough where you were feeling comfortable. And comfortable for you meant heading straight to the dance floor.

The club was packed, you were weaving in and out of people, finding your spot. The song was one of your favorites, the liquor was coursing through your blood, and you were craving something dangerous- something bold. And that’s when your eyes met his- almost like fate. His brown curly hair was falling slightly in front of his face as he chugged a beer, surrounded by men and women admiring him.

You knew you wanted him from the first moment he met yours eyes, licking his lips slightly, inviting you to come to him. You walked swiftly through the crowd, your eyes locked on him, not wanting to lose him in the chaos. You finally made your way to him, and you were standing only inches away. He lit a cigarette, offering you one without a word.

“What’s someone like you doing at a place like this? Seems like you’re looking for trouble,” he said, smirking at you as he blew clouds of smoke into the surrounding air.

“Can I find trouble here, with you? Or should I look elsewhere?” You winked at him, biting down on your lip as your eyes trailed his body, focusing on every detail you could make out.

“Billy- we’ve got shots!” A man yelled, carrying over a handful of glasses to the two of you. Billy turned to the guy, a slight smile growing across his chiseled face.

“Steve, this is my friend... uh...” Billy turned to you, eyebrows furrowed.

“(Y/N),” you cooed, sticking your hand out towards Steve. He was just as handsome as Billy, but in a different, softer sort of way. He grabbed your hand, his slender fingers tickling you as they touched your palm. You kept watching his lips, soft and pillowy, grasping the edge of the shot glass and downing the liquor.

“(Y/N) was just telling me that’s she’s looking to have a little fun tonight,” Billy said to Steve, taking a shot out of his hand and downing it himself. Steve started grinning, and turned towards you, eyes locked on your body.

“How much fun?” Steve asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Anything that involves you two, I’m game.” You pursed your lips at them, before smiling brightly. “I’m gonna walk outside, and if you two feel like meeting me out there and taking me home, you’re more than welcome too.” You turned around before getting a response and started walking towards the exit, hoping at least one of them was following you.

And they were, trying to keep up with you in the crowd. See, they had both wanted this- badly. They had this sort of... bet... the other one claiming they could make a girl cum more times in a row than the other. And so the only way for them to figure this out would be to see it firsthand. Hence came their threesome idea. You had no idea the kind of pleasure you were about to experience.

You walked out the doors of the club, the cool of fresh air hitting your face. You turned around quickly, and saw the two boys right behind you, looking like baby ducks following their mom. The alcohol was keeping your body warm against the cold, and a different kind of warmth was spreading inside of you.

“My apartment is actually right up the street, we could walk,” you said, pointing to your building up the street. The boys nodded and followed you as you walked home. The walk was quiet, all three of you trying to get to a private space extremely quickly.

You got to your building, fumbling with the keys to open up the main door. Steve put a hand on yours, calming you down for a moment.

“Are you okay?” He asked, laughing a bit under his breath.

“Yes... just... never done this before.” You eyed the two of them, assuming this was a regular gig for the duo.

“Neither babe we, honest. We don’t have too, if you don’t want,” Billy said, placing a hand on the small of your bag and sending shivers throughout your body.

“I want too, absolutely,” you assured them, realizing if this was also their first time, there was no need to worry about how good you would be at this. In all honesty, this has kind of been a sex bucket list thing for you. You had been studying up on moves so that whenever you the opportunity presented itself, you’d be ready.

You finally got the front door open and walked through into your building, Billy and Steve following close behind. You walked up the short flight of stairs to your apartment, and unlocked the door. As soon as you were inside, you turned around to face the boys. Billy was closing and locking the door, and that gave time for Steve to come over to you, picking you up, you wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Oh!” You shrieked, surprised by his sudden hunger and need for you. He didn’t respond, just started kissing you, his lips sloppily taking control of yours.

“Bedroom?” He asked, between kisses. You motioned down the hall, and Steve carried you there, his lips staying locked on yours. Billy followed quickly, already tearing his shirt off as the three of you headed into oblivion.

Once you got in the bedroom, Steve tossed you lightly on the bed. He pulled off your skirt, revealing a lacy black thong you had chosen earlier today, hoping someone would see it.

Steve started kissing up and down your thighs, biting slightly and your skin, making you giggle. Billy came up by your face, sitting on the bed next to you. He took your face in his hands, bringing your chin up so your lips could reach his. He kissed you slowly, his lips taking the lead, tongue just slightly exploring you. He wanted to you to really feel this kiss, to build up a deep craving for him inside of you.

Steve took off your panties, and started lightly licking your clit. You bucked your hips towards him, moaning through kisses with Billy. Steve knew you wanted more, and slipped a finger inside of you, picking up the pace of his licking.

Billy broke the kisses and leaned away from you, unbuckling his belt. Moans were escaping your lips as Steve was ravishing you, slipping another finger in. You felt close, reaching your hand down to Steve’s hair and running your fingers through it, tugging a bit with each lick.

Billy pulled himself out of his boxers, his large dick inches from your face. You looked at him, meeting his gaze as he kneeled above you. He nodded at you, pumping himself slowly, and you knew what he wanted. You licked your lips, kissing the tip of him slightly, making him groan with anticipation.

Before you could take him in your mouth, you felt a warmth growing through you. You looked down at Steve, told him to keep going, and threw your head back in pleasure. You had your climax quickly and intensely, needing a few seconds to catch your breath. Steve looked up at Billy, smiling, and mouthed held up his index finger, mouthing ‘One!’

Billy rolled his eyes, and shoved his cock down your throat. He was holding your head and pumping himself, his tip hitting the back of your throat with each thrust. You felt yourself gag on him, and that only turned him on more.

“Can’t handle my big fucking cock, can you baby?” He smiled, letting go of his head and letting you take charge.

On your lower half, Steve was putting on a condom and lining himself up at your entrance. He slipped himself in slowly, letting you warm up to him. He eventually had all his length in you, and started grinding into you quickly. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, trying to feel every inch of him inside you.

You were working Billy with your mouth, teasing his tip and getting him frustrated. You looked up at him, his eyes closed and head thrown back, swearing under his breath. You got the entirety of him in your mouth, letting his tip hit the back of your throat again. You gagged, and he let out a loud moan.

Steve was thrusting in and out you rhythmically, doing his best to make you feel each pump. His hands were locked on your hips, pulling you closer to him. He brought one of his hands to your clit, slightly rubbing you. You felt yourself get close to the edge, quickly, moaning onto Billy’s cock as Steve brought you to your second orgasm of the night.

Steve stopped pumping, slowing down and stopping for a second. He turned towards Billy, smiling.

“Already at two, bud. You better catch up,” he laughed. Billy pulled out of your mouth, and you pouted as you watched the two men, no longer pleasuring you.

“Fuck this. Switch with me, I’ll show you all how a real man does it.” Billy moved away from your face and switched positions with Steve. Steve leaned down to kiss you, taking his condom off while his tongue was everywhere in your mouth. You tasted yourself on him, and bit down on his lip slightly, making him moan.

Billy had made his way to your center, kissing you slightly before devouring every inch of you. He was different than Steve, his pattern was sloppier and explored more. He used his lips a lot, even biting down on you. You yelped as he did, never experiencing that before, but really enjoying it. Billy looked pleased with himself, and started fingering you as he made love to your clit with his tongue.

Steve had brought his dick to your lips, rubbing his tip on your tongue. He rolled his hips in pleasure, and you took him in your hands, pumping slowly. You took just the tip of him in your mouth, playing with him with your tongue. You finally slid him in, slowly moving up and down his shaft, making him beg for you.

Billy was pumping his fingers in you faster, his tongue moving at speeds you had never felt before. You were going to cum, again, and you let go of Steve so you could scream out to the ceiling as Billy rode you through your climax. You were tired, at this point, but knew you needed to finish off what you had started. You turned towards Billy, and nodded at him, letting him know it was time. He put on a condom, quickly, and started teasing your center with his tip.

You put Steve back in your mouth and started sucking, quickly. You knew both of these boys were close to where they needed to be, and you were determined to get them there. You were tugging lightly on Steve’s balls, feeling his body shaking as you played with him. Billy was pumping quickly now, his fingers also massaging your clit as he was determined to tie with Steve.

You felt yourself close to another orgasm, just as you realized the boys were close, too. You started sucking quicker, pumping the base of Steve’s dick quickly. You felt him move inside your mouth, and he came slowly, riding out his high as you finished him up. You swallowed him, turning your face back to Billy as he was about to give you your fourth orgasm.

You moved into him, sitting up almost straight as you came. You wrapped your hands around his neck, your foreheads pressing against each other as he pounded in and out of you quickly. He was getting sloppier, and you noticed him losing his grip on your hips.

“FUCK!” He muttered out, cumming inside of you. He pulled out of you a few moments later, slowly tearing the condom off and laying on the bed to your left. Steve was to your right, still catching his breath.

“You guys tied, by the way. Sorry about that,” you giggled, leaning your head on Steve’s shoulder and taking Billy’s hand in yours.

“Speed tie-breaker round?” Steve suggested, laughing.

“Thirty-minute break first, sound good? Babe, I’m gonna go get us some water, I’ll be back.” He kissed your cheek and stood up, putting on his boxers. “Just so you both know, this isn’t over. We will crown a winner, I don’t care if we’re fucking all night.” Billy winked and walked out, to the kitchen. You laid back on the bed, excited to see what these boys would do next.

#stranger things fanfic #stranger things 3 #stranger things #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #fanfic #smut #x reader

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i4z-0892-il · 5 years

Text

Monster House 5

Summary: Posing as Newlyweds Sam and Y/n set out to investigate what’s killing the visitors of a secluded Inn, and attempt to keep their working relationship professional.

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Word count: 6750

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ Only, suggestive themes, language, smut

A/N: Soooooo I went a little keyboard happy on this one. It’s a little longer than I thought it would be.

Immerse yourself in the story, Buy Sam’s Scent Here from @scentsfromthebunker (And damn does it smell goooooood)

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Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Yanking a brush through your hair hard enough that you would just tear any knots straight out of your head helped to keep your focus. It was hard to concentrate on the fact that Sam’s hands had been all over the lacy black panties you were now wearing when you were busy ripping chunks of hair from your scalp. Satisfied with it just being out of your face, bust still wild and barely tamed you stuffed the brush back into your bag and lamented on not having anything left to do to buy yourself more time. You’d have to leave the bathroom eventually. You’d have to look at him at some point. And you were going to have to do it while keeping your shit together which was difficult enough just through sheer proximity. Let alone being all cramped and squished against him, his frame towering over you, so large he could have swallowed you whole. Long strong arms keeping you up as if you weighed nothing, his hand riding dangerously low on your stomach, holding you in place against him. His hands all over your underwear, and in them. An all too familiar heat blossomed between your legs.

Gripping the sink and clenching your legs together as if you could hold it in or stop it completely you let out an exasperated sigh. This whole job was a bad idea. You should have come with Dean. Sure he’d have been obnoxious, but you’d still have fun, you’d still have been convincing. And most importantly you could walk away after the job was finished knowing that nothing had changed. Dean was great, but you’d had plenty of time to develop feelings for him, and nothing evolved. He was exactly where you wanted him to be. Platonic. Sam was another story entirely. And you were playing with fire.

There were a couple options on the table for how this whole job ended. Either you’d put on a show, keep your act together and go home to pine for him in secret- business as usual. Status Quo. Or you’d wind up coming on too strong, playing the game a little too well, embarrass the shit out of yourself and then have to live awkwardly around him until you had successfully humiliated yourself to death. There was no third option. Because the third option was completely off the table and nothing but wishful thinking. The night he nearly kissed you in the library was a drunken mistake, and a near miss. You had to find a way to shut down the way he made you feel. Which was simultaneously amazing and amazingly frustrated.

There had been a few times little things he did stirred you up so well and so agonizing that you had to go find some rando at a bar to go home with and alleviate the desperate need in you. But scratching the itch never brought real relief.

A short, soft knock on the bathroom door brought you out of your head and back into the real world.

“You ready? This class is starting in ten minutes.” Sam asked from the other side. Your cheeks burned at the sound of his voice, and the heat pooling low in your gut just kept smoldering away.

“Yeah. Be out in a second.” You answered, but you could have melted straight into the floor. Giving yourself another moment to collect yourself you sucked in a breath to clear your head, fixing your face stoic, and unbothered. Stepping out of the bathroom you tossed your bag of toiletries on top of the dresser. Sam was waiting for you wearing a teal and gold plaid button up, the one with the snaps instead of buttons. The one that made his eyes just pop. The one that hung so well on him, and over his broad, muscular shoulders. The one that you had spent many nights dreaming about ripping open.

“I have clothes on now, you wanna tell me what you found out?” He asked. You preferred him sans the clothes, but you wouldn’t be able to focus. Letting out a snort you rolled your eyes, as if it was all just ridiculous, as if you truly didn’t want to see him naked. If you told yourself you didn’t enough times, then maybe you’d start to believe it. You were going to handle this whole job through sheer force of will. And if nothing else you were most definitely a stubborn woman.

“Yeah so get this- it turns out that the guy who built this place, Wellington, didn’t die of the plague like we thought.” You offered clever and proud. Sam’s brow furrowed in slight confusion as his interest piqued.”Right? Turns out he died of Takotsubo Cardiomyopathy.”

“Broken heart syndrome?” Sam replied, incredulous. You answered with finger gun, click of your tongue and a wink. “That’s… Really? I mean, people don’t really die from that.”

“Hey, I’m not a doctor, and I wasn’t there when it happened. I’m just relaying the info. Besides, it kind of makes sense doesn’t it? Guy’s whole family dies in a matter of months. Wife was the last to kick the bucket, from bubonic plague no less. Sounds like a perfect recipe for a stress induced heart attack for me.”

“That might explain the disappearances. If he’s a ghost he could be abducting people, targeting the couples here.”

“Exactly what I was thinking.”

“That doesn’t explain the body count in the woods though.”

“I mean… there is a very real chance that it’s just what the local authority thinks it is.”

“Animal attacks, and you buy that?”

“Why not? What are the odds of there being a ghost here and a monster out there?” You asked with a shrug. If Wellington was still haunting the halls of his home - which explained why it gave you the creeps, then you were willing to give the Garcia PD a little credit. Not to mention the fact that you were far more willing to take on a ghost case than a Wendigo or something else just as nasty. Ghosts were scary, but that was fixed with a simple salt and burn. And you were willing to put serious money on the fact that the Wellingtons were buried somewhere on the property. Gank the ghost, and go home before you did something you’d regret. Story tied up in a bow. End scene.

Sam was willing to run with your theory, albeit reluctantly. Because when were the odds ever in his favor?

“Okay guess we’re going to have to see if any of the guests have had any strange occurrences happen.” He said, moving to the door and holding it open for you.

“And where on the property they’re buried.” You added, continuing your thought as you walked past him. “I’m guessing Derek probably knows.”

Sam locked the door behind him, his body tensing when you dropped Derek’s name. Derek. He did not like him. There was just something about him that made Sam wary. Of course the designs he had on you was a factor in that feeling that he could not discredit. It was probably a majority of the reason if he was completely honest with himself, if not the whole reason. Of course, he wouldn’t blame you if you decided to make a move. He’d wind up just fucking hating the guy, but you were free to do whatever with whomever. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t been with other men before. Wasn’t like he hadn’t been with other women. And he wasn’t going to be selfish enough to ask you to refrain from doing what you wanted.

“Alright, so after lights out we’ll to an EMF sweep and see if we can’t turn up old Wellington.” Going on with your train of thought as you made your way down the hall, Sam right next to you. You were talking but he wasn’t listening, and you weren’t exactly paying attention. He was too focused on the idea of you and Derek together. All you’d have to do was show a little interest and he’d be on you like white on rice. And it was infuriating. Derek would touch you wrong, he wouldn’t worship the parts of you that should be worshiped. He wouldn’t hold you right, or kiss you right with the passion and fire that you deserved. He wouldn’t pay attention to the the tender spots that Sam wanted his mouth over for the last year and a half. Then you’d come back to him smelling like the other man, and only half as satisfied as you could be. And he would have to choke down the way it would crush him. The way it does crush him, knowing that this was only a job to you. The way it should have just been a job to him.

“Oh!” A little light bulb clicked in your head as you stopped in your tracks two steps up from the base of the staircase. Sam stopped and turned to look at you. You were two stairs up and only barely eye level with him. “I almost forgot. That dancing night thing on Thursday. Turns out that’s an ongoing tradition in place of the Anniversary Gala’s that Wellington threw for his wife each year. Also it’s a black tie event.”

“What?” Sam questioned, unsure if he’d heard you right through your rambling pace and the word vomit. “Black tie?”

“Yeah. I know and there’s going to be a bunch of people people here because it’s apparently a big deal in these parts. And frankly I am not willing to rub elbows with the Bourgeoisie. Aristocracy can kiss my ass, they’re not better than anyone else. So anyway, the sooner we burn the bones and get out of here the better.” You answered not even wanting to ponder the idea of having to squeeze into some fancy little cocktail dress and heels and pretend like it wasn’t excruciating, or that your feet wouldn’t be killing you. It made you shudder at the thought of having to be around some weak-chinned trust fund baby talking about the tennis match they played at the yacht club. Sam on the other hand was less focused on attire than he was your comment ‘the sooner the better.’ Ouch. That one stung. You were right though, the sooner the case was solved and you could all go back to business as usual, the better. Less chance of fucking up, less chance of things between you changing. Less opportunity for him to slip up and spill something he should have kept to himself.

“Right.” He replied quickly, clearing his throat and shifting his weight on one leg. “Yeah, you’re right. The sooner the better.”

It wasn’t what he said, it was how he said it. Distant and aloof, unfeeling. And it struck you in the chest just a small pang of hurt. Turning your eyes from him so he couldn’t see the disappointment you looked down the hall off the foyer. You shouldn’t have been bothered by it, after all he agreed with you. But his answer wasn’t nearly as comforting as you had hoped. No it was exactly what you hoped for. Nothing. That was what you wanted after all, nothing. That was how it should be, nothing. Because if there was something…

An unmistakable head of curly ebony hair caught your attention in the hallway and you let out a perturbed groan. Fuck, this bitch again. Sam followed your gaze to Esmeralda chatting with another couple down the hall. Chuckling he turned his attention back to you.

“Not a fan?”

“No. You should have seen the look she gave me earlier.”

“I’m sure she didn’t mean anything by it. Y’know you have a chronic case of resting bitch-face yourself.” Sam teased. Your jaw dropped in offense and you shoved his shoulder playfully.

“Wow, rude!” You laughed, shaking your head in good humored annoyance.

“Hey, your words, not mine.” He replied. Esmeralda finished up her conversation with the other couple and immediately caught sight of Sam. Like a fucking lioness stalking her prey, she walked over as if it was a mission from god. In her eyes you had already disappeared. Without thinking you slipped your arms over Sam’s shoulders edging in closer. His hands came to rest at your hips as he looked at you quizzically. Up till you laid eyes on her you had maintained your distance.

“We’re supposed to be married right?” It was less a question more a statement and he gave you a dimpled grin in agreement.

“Right, because it couldn’t be that you’re jealous?” He asked and you snorted.

“No! I am not jealous of her. But if I’m playing the part of wife I gotta act like it right? Besides what do I have to be jealous of?” You stumbled through your denial, hoping you sounded more convincing out loud than you did in your head. Jealous. HA! What? Of her perfect full bodied hair that probably smelled like really expensive conditioner? Or her skin that looked as soft as silk? Pfft. Please. You were definitely not jealous of her absolutely killer body. Or her bedroom eyes with curling lashes a mile long and thick as night. Nope, not a damn thing to be jealous of there. And most of all you were not jealous or threatened by her presence around Sam. Not even a little.

“Mr. Wesson, I trust your hike today was enjoyable?” Esmeralda said, with a voice as sweet and smooth as summer wine. And you wanted to gag. Or choke her. Or gag while you were choking her. Sam turned to face her with a smile, one hand still on your hip. You dropped an arm from around his neck letting it lovingly rest over his bicep which was so strong you could have kept hands there for all eternity.

“Yes, it was very enjoyable.” Sam answered in earnest. Less about the scenery, more about you. A few choice moments sticking out in his head as particularly enjoyable.

“Marvelous.” She enthused. “Well if you’re ready the gentlemen are playing cards and having drinks in the parlor, if you’ll follow me.”

Your whole body froze as mild panic rose in your chest.

“I’m sorry I thought this was a couples cooking class?” You asked letting out a nervous laugh. Sam was supposed to be there to keep you from burning the place to the ground because you way overcooked a pie. Or quiche. Or whatever the fuck they wanted you to make. Not to mention the fact that it was dumb to have a cooking class listed on a couples retreat itinerary.

“Yes, well it was originally. Unfortunately one of the guests partners has fallen ill and couldn’t make it to the class, and we certainly didn’t want to keep him from enjoying himself this evening. I’m so sorry for the mix up.” She answered but didn’t look away from Sam, and you were pretty sure you saw her face harden out of irritation that she had to speak to you at all.

“Well. Y’know, I’m pretty good at Texas Hold ‘Em myself I’d love to-”

“I’m sorry Mrs. Wesson, I’m afraid there is only room at the table for one more.” She cut, her eyes darting to you like daggers, taking you a back completely. Fucking rude.

“So then why don’t you come with me to the class anyway?” You asked Sam, though it was more telling than requesting.

“I’m sorry, that won’t be possible either, it would be unfair to the other guests.” Esmeralda interjected. Seeming to have an excuse for fucking everything. You smiled through grit teeth.

“Of course it would.” You said finding it difficult to mask your disdain. Derek emerged from the hallway to join the three of you at the foot of the staircase, a kind smile on his face.

“Y/n, we’re so glad you could make it. If you follow me I’ll take you to the kitchen, we’ve got an excellent array of desserts and cocktails to sample during the class.”

This time it was Sam’s turn to be uncomfortable, his grip on your hip tightening a little upon Derek’s approach and all to casual drop of your name. Like he’d known you forever, it was too familiar. Esmeralda took him by the arm slowly coaxing the grip you had on each other apart, and he let her with little reluctance. She walked him down the hall to the parlor, but his eyes stayed on you and Derek until you were out of view.

“Yep, sounds… just fantastic.” You lied. He offered his elbow for you to take and escorted you to the massive kitchen where there were four other women waiting and chatting with full glasses of wine.

Dropping your hand to your side you took a look around. Clearly you had severely under-dressed for the occasion, these women looked like they stepped straight out the Stepford wives. To be fair this was one of your nicest t-shirts, it was one of the only ones that didn’t have holes in it, and it had a little ufo on it with small text saying ‘I want to leave.’ It was accurate, and it was your favorite. You even put clean jeans on without rips in the knees, and your nice boots. So… they were lucky.

On the table where they sat was several trays full of macaroons, various cheesecakes, tiramisu, and tiny cupcake sized apple tarts but the apples had been sliced thin and turned into roses. A small banquet table sat nearby with three clear beverage dispensers. One of them was champagne colored and had peaches and mangoes and strawberries floating in it, the other was a lime green concoction with more matching fruit. The last was most definitely Sangria, and you made a beeline for it. Derek stepped in beside you offering a glass for you to pour your drink into, though opening the spigot and letting it pour directly into your mouth seemed like a better use of your time and energy than anything that was to come next. You were going to drink the entire damn dispenser dry, fruit and all by the end of the class.

“Hi.” A woman with blonde hair curled into flawless waves, not a single strand out of place. She eyed you curiously, like you were a circus act than a person who didn’t know there was a dress code for a fucking cooking class you didn’t even want to be a part of! “I’m Emily, pleasure to meet you. And you are?”

“Y/n, nice to meet you too.” You held your hand out to shake hers but she didn’t take it.

“Come meet everyone.” Emily suggested taking you by the arm and practically dragging you over to the table, and introducing you to the other women like she was the host of a quaint dinner party. “Y/n this is Ashley, Victoria and Charlotte.”

Victoria was a haughty woman with black hair, with secrets behind her dark eyes. Ashley was a cute slip of a thing, but something told you she wasn’t exactly as innocent as she looked. Charlotte gave you a big smile, and was the only one who didn’t look at you like you crawled out of a hole.

“How long are you here for?” Charlotte asked.

“About a week, maybe less.” You answered.

“Less? Why would you want to leave early?” Emily quizzed. You were put on the spot, and you did not like being the center of any kind of attention.

“Oh y’know, we’re from out of state so we might try to check out a few tourist spots on our way back home.”

“Where are you from?” Ashley asked.

“Lebanon. Kansas.”

“A long way from home aren’t we.” Victoria said not bothering to look at you, just her voice set you on edge.

“Uh, yeah. Guess so.”

“How long have you been married?” Charlotte asked.

“A little while now, feels like yesterday.” You joked, awkward, and uncomfortable.The questions were flying left and right. Nosy and asking for too many details, details that were too specific and you couldn’t be vague enough about. You found yourself quickly downing the first of many more glasses of Sangria. You and Sam had gone over some details of your backstory, glossing over a general picture, but there were plenty of blanks to fill. And you felt like you were being interrogated, or dissected by these women.

“Where did you get married?”

“Uhh, we eloped.”

“Any kids?

“None.”

“What do you do for a living?”

“Y’know I would love to chat a little more about this later but I think we’re supposed to get started now.” You said, trying to find an escape hatch. All day you’d been lamenting having to cook, and now you were elated to start. Anything to shift the focus off of you and your fake marriage.

Derek showed you to a station set up and ready, and right in the middle of the island, but you were land-locked by Emily and Charlotte on either side of you. And that’s when the dread really kicked in. This was actually happening. They actually expected you to participate, not only participate, but to do it and actually be happy about it! Maybe you could feign sickness and go hide in your room. The raw ingredients in front of you taunting you but just being there. You downed your second glass.

“Ladies tonight we’re going to be making one of my favorite recipes Amaretto Apple Streusel Cupcakes.” Derek started. The only part of that catching your interest was the Amaretto part. Beyond that- what the fuck made a streusel? You started on your second glass of Sangria.

Derek led the class through the introductory steps, talking entirely too much about the ingredients we were using, but making sure you knew that there was plenty of wiggle room in the recipe to adjust to your tastes. There was going to be so much Amaretto in yours you’d get tipsy off of eating one. If you didn’t burn it first. He left plenty of room for talking among yourselves.

“So how did you and your husband meet?” Charlotte asked, big brown eyes moving from you to the mixing bowl in her hands.

“We just happened to be working together.” You answered quickly. “So, this place is kinda interesting.”

“Yeah, I guess so. The mountains are nice, and one of the lakes is like… perfect.”

“Sam and I went for a hike today, it was definitely something. I could have sworn I heard like… scratching earlier when we were getting settled.”

“Huh. That’s odd.” Charlotte said, preoccupied.

“Hear anything like that in your room?”

“Nope, can’t say I have, but I honestly haven’t spent much time in the room. Declan and I have been keeping pretty busy.”

“Right, of course. I think I saw some flickering lights earlier too.”

“Well, this place is like really super old. I’m sure the wiring is a conflagration waiting to happen” She answered absentmindedly, adding extra spices and such to her mixing bowl.

“Yeah, it kind of gives me the creeps, y’know.” You pressed but Charlotte just shrugged and continued on with her task. The mixture in her bowl looking smooth and creamy, while yours looked… chunky. Clumps of flour sticking together and unwilling to unstick and mix right. And you definitely added too much amaretto, because some of it was runny. How could something be runny and clumpy at the same time?

Derek continued on with the next steps and down went glass number four. Your fingertips were starting to tingle, your head pleasantly buzzing. Derek refilled your glass and set it in front of you, full lips curling into a smile.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” He asked, and you replied with a nod taking a long sip from your glass.

“Mhmm, I uh, I don’t think I did this right.” You answered a little defeated, eyes landing on the lumpy and runny bowl of doughy batter in front of you. Derek responded with a chuckle, as he moved around the island to stand between you and Charlotte.

“It’s just not quite mixed in there yet.” He said, picking up a whisk and whipping the batter smooth like it should be. He placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “See? Beautiful. Have you tried it yet, to make sure your flavors are where you want them?”

Shaking your head no he let his hand trail down your arm taking your hand in his and dipping your finger in the batter. Bright green eyes locked on you as he watched you lick the batter from your fingertip. Unfortunately for him you were five glasses deep, and less concerned about the sultry look in his eye, or the way he was biting into his lip than you were about being delightfully surprised that it actually tasted okay.

“Wow. I thought for sure this was going to be inedible.” You laughed. Derek chuckled, and smiled at you again, rapt by you, and you saw an opening. Leaning your hip against the island, and taking another sip you edged in, just a little closer. “So, that guy Wellington you were talking about earlier, he really had to watch his whole family go down?”

“Yes, it's really terrible. The plague is not an easy disease to watch someone succumb to, it takes hold quickly and they suffered before they passed.” He answered, more than happy to be in your close proximity.

“Yikes.” You remarked, half way through glass number six. “So if they all passed away in a couple months, that’s a lot of funerals to deal with. Did they have like a family plot around here?”

“Yes they did, there’s a clearing in the trees by the overlook where they were all laid to rest. Mr. Wellington put this property here for the views, I suppose it was what he wanted in death as well. I’m afraid its all a bit overgrown now. The groundskeeper refuses to set foot on it. Why do you ask?”

“Just curious, I’m all about that spooky shit.” You answered, putting your drink down, because pacing is a thing and you needed to exercise it before something else uncouth just fell out of your mouth. Derek laughed, finding your comment more endearing than anything else. “Anything weird happen around here?”

“Depends on what you mean by weird.” He answered, intrigued. You edged in, just a hair closer.

“You know, like… flickering lights, cold spots, strange voices in the night.”

“Ah,” he laughed again. “You want to know if this place is haunted.”

“Well, is it? Should I be worried? Have to break out the crucifixes?” You teased.

“This place is old, and there have been an odd thing here and there, but I can’t say that it’s haunted. If it is I don’t think I’ve ever encountered anything supernatural.”

“Bummer.” You said slumping back in your place, and turning your attention back to the batter in the mixing bowl. Derek gave your shoulder a light squeeze before moving back around the island and continuing the lesson.

The poker game was done, and Sam could have won every round, but threw folds every now and then, not wanting chance putting a tarnish on a good first impression. The five other men split off to chat sipping brandy like they were on the goddamn Titanic before the iceberg. Of the six only one of them caught Sam’s attention. He was sunk into a chair by the roaring fireplace, his cheeks sallow and gaunt, he was thin, too thin. Clothes didn’t seem to quite fit right, and he looked just tired. Sam picked up a glass and sat in the chair beside him.

“Nolan, right?” Sam asked, earning nothing more than a slow nod from the skeleton in the chair. “You uh, you okay man? You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine.” Nolan answered, quiet, and distant.

“You sure?” He pressed, unconvinced. Nolan didn’t respond, he only took a long sip of the amber liquid in his glass. Giving up on pleasantries Sam decide to skip straight to the point. “So, you wouldn’t happen to have noticed anything weird going on here would you? My wife and I we’re kind of into the ghost tours and stuff, and we heard this place had some unexplained phenomena happen over the years.”

Nolan turned dim blue eyes to him leaning against the arm of the chair, beckoning Sam to move closer and lean in to share a secret that wasn’t for prying eyes or ears.

“If you were smart, you’d take your woman and leave.” Nolan warned, locking eyes with Sam not a single hint of insincerity on his face.

“What?”

“You believe in ghost stories?” Nolan asked, his voice falling to a hush. Sam nodded, eager and interested. “There’s something here. It moves in the night.”

“What do you mean?” Sam pressed. Maybe there was some serious credibility to your theory. A small hand clasped his shoulder before Nolan could respond, he turned eyes up to meet icy green ones as Esmeralda stood beside him smiling cheerfully.

“Mr. Wesson, I was wondering if you’d accompany me to the cellar.” She said sweetly. “There are a few more bottles of Brandy and Bourbon for tasting, but I’m afraid I only have two hands and can’t carry all of them.”

Sam looked back at Nolan before turning to Esmeralda and agreeing to help with a nod. But the conversation wasn’t over. Nolan had seen something, and he was determined to find out what exactly he’d seen. Setting his glass on the mantel above the fireplace and followed the petite woman down the hall. When they passed by the kitchen he peeked in to see you smiling, cheeks flushed, and standing a little too close to Derek who ran his hand down your arm. His jaw set tight, not thrilled in the slightest to see Derek getting a little too comfortable with you, his wife. Fake wife. Friend. Business partner. Platonic co-worker.

Swallowing down his offense and jealousy that formed a lump in his throat he had to remind himself that it wasn’t his place to have any say over what you did. No matter how much he wanted to just steal you away. It could never happen. This was just a temporary arrangement. And you always did have a way of getting information from men. It seemed easy for you to dial up the charm and flash those pretty doe eyes, and they’d melt like putty in your hands. He knew that fact from experience.

The cellar was relatively small compared to the grandiose of the rest of the Manor, but it was still impeccably stocked. Different liquors and wines from all over the world fit into the cedar shelving. One bottle after another Esmeralda placed them in Sam’s arms.

“I do appreciate your help Mr. Wesson.” She said, her fingertips leaving the last bottle and lingering over his forearm.

“You can call me Sam.”

“Alright then, Sam it is.” She agreed. His name dripping from her lips like honey. “So Sam, tell me, what brings you all the way out here to our neck of the woods?”

“Y/n and I needed a vacation. Heard about this place, figured we’d check it out and see if it as anything special.” He said flashing a quick smile. She tucked a bottle in her arms before turning to look at him curiosity writ on her face.

“And do you have any doubts that this place will live up to your expectations?”

“No, I think it’s shaping up to be exactly what we were looking for.”

The Apple streusel whatevers were just about done being cooked, and the smell from the oven was mouthwatering. You had finished glass number six and hoping that seven would be the last one for the night because you simply could not remain in that kitchen without a drink in your hand, but you were already drunker than you’d intended to be.

“Y/n, you seem nervous.” Victoria said from behind you, making you jump in surprise, the look on your face startled as you turned to address her.

“I uh, I don’t cook much. It’s really not my specialty.” You explained honestly. Since moving into the bunker Dean was the master chef, and when he wasn’t doing it you stuck to leftovers, or food from the 7-Eleven.

“You don’t cook for your husband at all?” She asked, and you scoffed.

“Nope, Sam’s a big boy. If he’s hungry he can fend for himself.” You answered and she looked downright appalled. Oops.Maybe that was a little too honest. “I mean, we’re not particularly domestic… so....�� You shut yourself up with the glass in your hand.

“I see, that’s a shame. I’m sure he’ll be pleasantly surprised then when you bring these back with you.” Victoria said, there was no change in the pitch of her voice, she was speaking pleasantly and civilly, but there was nothing but disdain in her eyes.

“Yeah, he’s not going to believe it.” You laughed, she didn’t.

“Do you do anything for your husband?” She continued. What, were you supposed to be his maid or something?

“Nope, he married me for my charming wit and sparkling personality.” You quipped, unable to stop the sarcasm that oozed from your words.

The oven went off and it was the most beautiful sound in the world. You excused yourself from Victoria’s irritating company and moved to wrap up your cupcakes and get the fuck out of the kitchen. The whole ordeal hadn’t been a total bust, you found out where the Wellingtons were planted, and that none of the women had experienced anything inexplicable, which didn’t give you much hope that your theory was correct. Polishing off your last drink you tucked the box of cupcakes under your arm and slipped out of the kitchen just in time to see Sam walking down the hall to the parlor with Esmeralda struggling to keep up with his pace. Letting out a grumbling sigh you headed back up to the room, not wanting to have to deal with little miss perfect for a single second, you’d had too much to drink and your filter was about ten minutes away from being nonexistent. The second you hit the bed your eyes fell shut.

When he returned to the parlor Nolan was gone, the cooking class was done and the men left to go be with their wives. But you were nowhere to be found. And neither was Derek, a pit grew in his stomach, not wanting to entertain the idea of where you might have snuck off to and with who.

“I hope you enjoyed yourself tonight.” Esmeralda said, handing him a bottle of Bourbon.

“Yeah, yeah thanks. It was nice. Is that guy Nolan okay? He looked sick.”

“Mr. Ross is a little under the weather, I’m afraid he may be catching whatever bug Mrs. Ross had.” She explained with a smile.

“Right, of course. Thanks again, I think I need to go find my wife.”

“Goodnight. Sam.” Esmeralda said, growing want in her voice, and unmistakable in her light green eyes. Sam nodded, and gave her a quick goodnight before exiting down the hall and back to the room. If you were off somewhere with Derek he did not want to take the risk of catching you in the act. He didn’t think he could stomach it, or remain collected afterwards.

When he locked the door behind him and turned to the bed he was more than pleasantly surprised to find you sprawled across the entire California King size bed. How someone so small could take up so much space he’d never be able to grasp, but it was endearing nonetheless.One arm was hanging off the edge of the bed, and the other was stretched above your head where your hair splayed out like a halo around your face so serene and angelic. Untying the laces of your boots he slipped them off your feet and dropped them on the floor before grabbing a couple pillows from the bed and a blanket to settle in on the floor.

He lay there for a while, unable to quiet his thoughts enough to fall asleep. Just happy that you hadn’t run off with someone else. Reaching up he took your hand dangling limp over the edge of the bed and ran his thumb over the buttery soft skin of your knuckles, a small smile playing over his lips.

Breath hitched in your throat as your back arched, chin tipping back and eyes falling shut. Running your fingers through his silky chestnut hair you rolled your hips unable to get enough of that delicious friction between your thighs. Each flick of his tongue over your clit blooming that pleasurable pressure in your core. His lips sealed over your sensitive bud sucking a crying moan from your lips as his long deft fingers pumped in your fluttering pussy, rhythmically and with ease covered in your slick. Legs quivered as you drew your knees up along his side, one hand gripping the sheets of the bed and holding on for dear life.

“Oh god… Sam!” His name fell from your lips like a prayer the deep humming moan he gave in response vibrating against your sex sent you careening over the edge, fireworks igniting behind your eyes as your body trembled under his unrelenting touch. Giving a desperate tug on his hair to bring him to you, wanting to taste yourself on his lips while he buried himself impossibly deep in your aching pussy. But the eyes that looked up at you were not Sam’s kaleidoscope hazel ones, but rather Derek’s misty green eyes.

You stirred in your sleep, a soft, pleased moan passed your lips, and your breath quickened drawing his focus from the warning Nolan had given him to you who must have been having an interesting dream. Another moan, and the rustling of sheets as you shifted in the bed. The sound of your euphoric whimpers left him more than curious.

“Oh god… Sam..” You whispered, barely audible but he heard it. Palming his hardening dick through his sweats he tried to keep himself in control. But there was no mistaking what you were dreaming about now. His name falling from your lips causing the smoldering embers low in his core to flick into a burning fire impossible to extinguish. The longer he laid there, listening to your sleep riddled gasps the harder it was to keep himself focused on anything but you.

It wasn’t the first time he’d thought about you like that. It wasn’t the first time he’d thought of you alone at night. But it was the first time there had ever been confirmation that you just might think about him too.

Unable to lay there any longer, cock throbbing and twitching with each of your rasping breaths he pulled himself off the floor and into the bathroom. Fisting his cock in his hand he pumped in tandem with the quiet mewling from the other room.

Sitting up with a shocked gasp, your eyes open wide and darting around the room in your confusion. That was more than unexpected. Countless times you’d had that dream but it was always Sam. It was never not him. And while Derek was handsome, you weren’t exactly skipping with enthusiasm for the chance to sit on his face. Running your fingers through your hair you let out a sigh, recollecting yourself, and swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. You just drank too much. That was all. It was just the liquor messing with your head.

Taking note that you were still fully clothed you stood up to change into something more comfortable than jeans to sleep in, proud of the fact that you’d at least managed to take your boots off before passing out.

When you stood your head began to swim, the room spinning around you in a dizzying whirlwind. You’d drank plenty before, but you’d never been that drunk. This felt different. Your brow furrowed as your vision went black to a pinpoint.

“What the fu…” With a thud you collapsed to the floor in a heap.

Tags:

@saxxxology

@heyitscam99

@mogaruke

@x-waywardaf-x

@alexwinchester23

@notnaturalanahi

@lydklein1

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@sandlee44

@collette04

@dontyouhearthewhispers

@littlegreenplasticsoldier

@witchy--owl

@31shadesofbrown

@bunnybaby121115

@platypusdragon-writing

#sam x reader #sam winchester x reader #sam smut #sam winchester smut #sam fic #sam fanfic #sam fanfiction #sam winchester fic #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester fanfic #monster house #jena writes

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jstlikemagic · 6 years

Text

Fuck Your Fortnite. - Zion Kuwonu Smut

Title: Fuck Your Fortnite

Pairing: Zion Kuownu/Reader

Rating: R (sex and swear words ooooo)

Word Count: 1.6k baby

Summary: you are just so needy and want zion so bad but he’s playing that dumb fucking game!!!! there’s some thigh riding in this too so exciting!!

A/N: some of you may know that i went off yesterday about how much i’m done with zion playing fortnite so here is the product of it!!!!!!! please like or reblog if you enjoyed this imagine!

my masterlist | feedback is always great!!!

It was a typical morning off of tour. You were busy making breakfast, just chilling out, and trying to regain any sanity you had lost while out on the road. Zion was playing video games, Fortnite, per usual.

While flipping over the omelette in the pan, you zoned out towards the window and just started thinking. It seemed weird to not being cramped on a tour bus and around a shit ton of men a lot of the time. You missed being on the road with PrettyMuch because you guys were like family and just fun to hang out with. But if there’s one thing you didn’t miss it was the quickies.

Yeah, sex is great and all but quickies are just, I don’t know, quick? If anything, you would’ve skipped a hundred quickies just to have one pure, lasting-more-than-10-minutes get down with your man. Plus, the quickie insisted on most of the time giving him a blowjob. Nothing in it for you. Not like you minded that much but it still super sucked.

Snapping back into reality, you looked over into the living room. Glancing over at Zion from the kitchen, you caught his fingers fidgeting fast on the remote control. You started thinking about what those fingers could do. The way they caressed your body, held you, choked you, and fucked your pussy. Snapping back into reality you carried on with making yourself an omelette.

Once your omelette was done, you decided to pop a squat next to Zion but instead he just yelled at you to get out of his way. Usually, he was like this when playing video games. Too in depth with the screen rather than his girlfriend. Sitting next to him, you studied his face. His side profile was so gorgeous especially in the morning when the light shone through and you saw that perfect jawlines, the sexy slight stubble, and his plump lips. It was all too much for you to take in. Feeling yourself get aroused, you quickly shifted on the couch.

“Hey, baby. I was wondering if you wanted to do something fun right now,” you yearned towards him. Still not focusing on you, he threw his hands up in the air in response to getting killed in the game. Getting a little aggravated at the lack of attention, you decided to get his attention the only way you could. You got off the couch and hustled to the kitchen. You set your omelette on the kitchen counter and went to work the best way you knew how.

"Hey, babe," you said as you sat next to him on the couch. He nodded at you but clearly not invested in what you were doing and saying. Scooting closer to him, you nestled your head into his neck. Pressing small kisses to his neck, he nudged you away.

"Not now, Y/N," Zion scolded. Huffing, you stood up from the couch. Lifting your shirt over your head, you threw it to the side of the couch. Zion still wasn’t looking, as you pulled off your pants and panties. It was a little upsetting that no matter how dramatic you were about getting undressed, he paid no attention in this moment. But in any other moment, he’d be itching to get you out of your clothes.

Already dressed in your red lacy matching set, you continued with trying to get his attention. He still didn’t look your way. Deciding to take matters into your own hands literally, you grabbed the back of his neck and straddled his thigh which gave yourself leverage. Sadly, he didn’t even budge.

“You are the sexiest man, I’ve ever seen. Fuck your Fortnite and fuck me instead,” you whispered seductively into his ear. Chills ran up and down his spine. His adams apple bobbed as you let out a low and deep laugh, knowing you may have reeled him in. Pressing hot and wet kisses to his neck, he let out a shaky sigh. Grasping on to his neck, you started to ride his thigh. Moving your hips in a circle, he threw his head back. Throwing your head back, you let out a high pitched moan.

“Babe, how are you so wet? I haven’t even touched you?” Zion was wearing boxers so he could feel your wetness on his thigh. Sliding your panties down to your knees, he placed his hand right in between his thigh and your clit. Starting to rub harshly, you dug your fingernails into his neck and sunk your jaw into his shoulders. “You like it when I rub your pussy? You like being a needy girl?” he said sternly. Suddenly, you felt him smack your ass and the tingly sensation only edged you farther. “Answer me, Y/N.” Squealing out a ‘yes,’ he smirked and had the biggest grin on his face. He was the one making you feel so good, involuntary or not.

Finally, he put his game on pause and put the controller and headset aside onto the coffee table. Reaching around your back, he fidgeted with clasps of your bra. After three failed attempts, he unclasped your bra and his eyes went wide. He hadn’t seen your breasts in a long time. Truth be told, that was his favorite body part of yours. Still riding his thigh, he took your right nipple into his mouth and kneaded your left breast. Then he switched to give each breast the same attention. Closing your eyes, you felt pure ecstasy. This was all you wanted, some full blown attention.

He placed his hands on your hips to guide you. Letting out a moan, you could feel his hand moving dangerously close to your pussy again. You started changing your motions to moving back and forth. He started attacking your neck with harsh kisses that were sure to leave marks tomorrow. His hand started rubbing your clit feverishly and you let out a squeal at the immense pleasure you were feeling again. Burying his face in between your breasts, you let out a cross between a giggle and a moan. He licked up your cleavage, to the side of your neck and pressed a kiss onto your lips. Feeling a tightness of your walls, you gripped on to Zion’s neck. Throwing your head back, you felt the familiar knot in your stomach build up.

“Zion,” you moaned loudly as you released on his thigh. Lifting yourself off his thigh. You fell back on the other end of the couch. Panting, you looked at him in awe. Zion looked hungrily at you and then your eye caught onto something. He smirked and grabbed your hand, placing it on his cock.

“Now, you have to fix my problem babe,” he laughed. Standing up, he quickly threw off his shirt and pulled down his boxers. You moved in closer to him and bit your lip once you saw his hard length resting on his stomach. Taking your hand, he placed it on his hard dick. He wrapped your fingers along his long length and showed you how to stroke, just the way he wanted you to. You increased the pace, moving your hand faster and harder. He responded by muttering “fuck” and closing his eyes in enjoyment. You kept stroking fast and hard with your hand, leaning up to kiss him.

“Suck it please,” he whispered. Taking a deep breath, you leaned down and slowly took all of him in your mouth. He thrusted his hips up and down to get your mouth moving and you followed his lead, sucking his dick faster. Zion moaned in response, muttering “fuck” and “don’t stop” every so often. You teased your tongue along the tip of his cock, sucking the tip and using your hand to pump his shaft up and down. “Y/N, stop. I wanna cum inside your pretty little pussy,” he pleaded.

Laying your back on the couch with bent knees, he crawled over to you. Suddenly, you were positioned under him. Hovering over you, he placed his tip near your entrance. Pushing his lips onto yours, he slowly thrusted in but not all the way. He gave you about thirty seconds to adjust to his dick. His big frame hung over you but you couldn’t help to admire his features in this moment. His eyes dark and full of lust and his biceps that had his muscles bulging. He was just so fucking beautiful and you couldn’t believe he was yours and you were his.

Slowly entering you, he threw his head back at the feeling of your tight pussy around his dick. Putting your hand at the nape of his neck, you pulled him in to kiss you. Wrapping your legs around his torso, you felt him even go deeper which gave more pleasure to the both of you. Burying his head in the crook of your neck, he let out a groan. Feeling the familiar knot in your stomach again, you arched your back and shuddered as your orgasm had hit you.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum,” he groaned. He quickly removed his cock out of you and pumped it hovering over your tits. All of sudden, little spurts of cum were spurting out and soon covered your tits and stomach. You wiped up some of his cum and tasted it for yourself which edged him off even more to finish.

After he finished, you both were sprawled out on the couch, entangled in each others bodies. “Okay so like what’s up with that wanting to cum in my pussy and then not? I was pretty much caught off guard when I almost got cum in my eye,” you laughed.

“In the moment, I thought of the phrase ‘Don’t be silly, wrap your willy.’ So that’s when I remember I didn’t have a wrapped willy and we can’t have little Zion’s and Y/N’s running around,” he hysterically cracked up.

#i'm so sorry this sucked #oh my fjfnjafngjr #i'm super sorry #zion kuwonu smut #zion kuwonu imagine #prettymuch smut #prettymuch imagine

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 4 years

Text

Anniversary

Summary: Marrying Donaka Mark wasn’t what you imagined your life would be. Yet it turned out to be the best decision ever.

Pairing: Donaka Mark / F!Reader

Wordcount: 2.518

Warnings: mentions of working as an escort, swearing, smut, Dom vibes, sex toys, general nudity idk

A/N: I watched Men of Tai Chi for the first time and god damn Donaka can get it. So this happened. Also big thanks to @ladyreapermc for beta-ing this mess in it’s unedited form cause i’m a lazy fuck LOL

*Taglist in reblog

Silence.

All there was was silence. Every day. Every hour of the day. At least when Donaka was home. Which seemed to be more often in the last couple of months.

You were oh so young when you met him. Struggling to earn your own money after you didn’t have enough to pay for uni, you did the last thing you ever wanted to do. You became an escort. Looking back it had to be fate that he was your first client. He had been searching for a young woman to accompany him to a dinner party.

“Look nice and don’t speak a word.” Was the only sentence he spoke to you the whole evening. Not that you would have been able to form an intelligent sentence on the yacht he had taken you on. He was dressed in all black, while you were wearing a dark purple dress he had bought you. It was the single most expensive thing you ever had worn. Not counting in the diamond earrings he had made you wear.

Apparently you had done a great job as his pretty arm candy because from that night on, he had booked you regularly. So often that after a couple of months he made you the offer to become his exclusive escort.

He didn’t like to share.

He never had made any intentions in taking this thing between you further than just for appearances. Yet you couldn’t deny that he was an attractive man. You didn’t know exactly what he did for a living, but you were pretty sure it wasn’t just a security firm he was running. Donaka was someone you didn't want to have on your bad side. And overall he was more than generous. You agreed to become his exclusive escort if he would pay for you to get your masters degree. Which he did.

He still was as cold as the first time you met him, yet sometimes you got a glimpse on the man beneath the mask. That was mostly when the two of you were alone.

It was a year into your arrangement when something changed. You had met him in his penthouse more often. Being alone with him still sent a thrill through your body, because you couldn’t deny the attraction you felt towards him. And it wasn’t just his looks. You felt like he genuinely cared for you in his own way.

But on that day he was on edge. He sat on his big couch when you entered his penthouse, dressed in all black as usual, though his face was a hard mask.

“I didn’t know you would be coming over today.” He hadn’t even looked at you, yet you could see his eyes dark and clouded with anger.

“It’s thursday. You said to always come over on thursday.”

“Well… I’m not in the mood today.” He snapped.

Feeling brave, you stepped into his line of sight, when he finally looked up at you.

“What are you in the mood for then?” You held his gaze as your hands slowly opened the first button of the blouse you were wearing.

“Don’t…” He hissed.

“Why?”

“Cause you won’t be able to take it, once I get up from this couch.” He said quietly, his eyes not leaving yours.

“I am not as innocent as you think Donaka.” You answered, opening the next button. As if you had known something like this would finally happen, you had decided to wear a deep blue lacy bra with matching panties. He continued to watch you for a while, as you slowly stripped down, your confidence shrinking with every second he continued to just sit there, before he finally got up.

“You’ll address me as Sir.” He said, towering over you, one of his hands gathering your hair in a ponytail and slowly tugging your hair so you had to look up at him.

“And tomorrow you are gonna move out of your shitty apartment and move in here.” He stated, his other hand on your hip shooting electricity through your body.

“Yes, Sir.”

A year after this encounter he had suggested getting married.

Like a business transaction. And against all your better judgement you agreed. You never had the intention of marrying anyway. Yet when a dark blue velvet box was waiting on your plate at dinner the next day, the most beautiful emerald cut diamond ring you had ever set your eyes on inside of it, you couldn’t help the nervous flutter in your belly. That Donaka had the hint of a smile on his lips as he watched you slip the ring on your ring finger, didn’t help the whole situation.

He had fucked you against his bedroom window the whole night.

It wasn’t a big ceremony. As a matter of fact it was just you and him on a normal tuesday afternoon. You were getting ready in your bedroom, you still had your own room, even if most nights you spent in the safety of Donaka’s bed, when he had walked in.

“You look beautiful.” He had startled you. You had decided on an ivory shoulder free dress, that hugged you curves perfectly, and ended just over your knees. Looking up you caught his eyes in your mirror, he was wearing a simple black suit, a dark grey dress shirt underneath and the black silk tie you had gifted him for his last birthday. Smiling shyly you had turned around, bending down to get your shoes on, when he got on his knees.

“Let me…” He had mumbled, and helped you in the dark red velvety Jimmy Choos you had fallen in love with. His fingertips on your ankles were driving you insane. When he looked up, you had the words you so desperately wanted to tell him on your lips. I love you.

You didn’t know why it was so hard for you to actually say them. You were getting married to the guy. You had spent almost three years with him, yet you still felt like you only knew so much about him.

“I know this isn’t probably how you imagined your wedding day.” His big hand came to rest on your knee as he looked up at you.

“I never actually imagined ever getting married, Donaka.” You had smiled but sighed.

“Then why did you say yes?”

“I…” You gulped. Before you could stop yourself your hand reached out, your fingertips stroking over his freshly shaved cheek.

“I like being with you. And this…” You shook your head. “Thing between us might be, in a weird way, the healthiest relationship I ever had. I feel happy being with you.”

“I feel happy with you too.”

It was the first time Donaka showed his vulnerable side.

Your wedding day now was exactly five years ago. Donaka had been gone for three weeks on a business trip leaving you alone. Which gave you time to work almost every hour and you were happy when he got back home. You still had your own bedroom. But you couldn’t remember the last time you had slept in it. Ever since the wedding Donaka had opened up more and more. The first time he told you that he loved you, had to be one of the happiest days of your life. Smiling to yourself you got out of the shower, just drying yourself off, before you slipped on the long slip robe he had brought you from one of his trips and tiptoed to the bedroom.

The door was fully open, letting you see Donaka sit with his back against the massive headboard, sheets spread around himself as he read some reports. He was completely naked, his hair getting a little longer.

Donaka mostly ran around naked when he was home, something you only had found out after you’ve gotten married. The amount of sex you have had in all rooms of his, your penthouse, was insane. For a man in his late forties he had a stamina some twenty years olds would be jealous of.

His huge king size bed was the only piece of furniture in the room. Black, heavy wood posters framed it and it’s massive dark grey headboard set against the dark green Silk wall behind it. The whole bedroom was rather dark. Much like Donaka.

“You’re home.” You said quietly. You saw him nod, not even looking up at you as he continued to read.

“Everything went fine?” You asked.

He shook his head. “One big fucked up mess is what it is.” He growled, the tone of his voice sending shivers over your whole body, arousal shooting right to your core.You hadn’t touched yourself ever since he left, like he instructed, leaving you a horny mess. And you were ready for him.

“Anything I can help to make it better… Sir?” You added. That made him look up.

“Not today.” He said after a while and focused back on his reading.

With an open mouth you looked at him. You could see that his cock clearly had other ideas as he got hard.

“Well…” You grinned mischievious to yourself as you slowly walked over to your side of the bed, letting you robe slip over your shoulder before you sat on the bed next to him. You could see him watching you from the corner of your eyes as you reached for your moisturizer, beginning to massage it into your skin.

“I thought a couple of years would go by until my husband neglected me.” You sighed, making sure you spend more time massaging between your thighs, making yourself moan lowly as your hand brushed over your clit.

“I’m not neglecting you, I’m busy. Now be a good girl and go to sleep.” Donaka said. You looked at him, still reading. Yet his cock was standing proudly against his stomach.

Biting your lip you grinned. You could be a good girl, but maybe today you wanted to be a bad girl. You pulled the papers he was reading out of his grasp, laying them down next to him. Before he could open his mouth you had straddled his lap, your hands grabbing the headboard behind him. Dark eyes looked up at you.

“I know you don’t really give a fuck, but it’s our wedding anniversary today. And I haven’t had an orgasm since the morning you left. So I think I’m gonna be a bad girl today, Sir.” You whispered against his ear. His hands were on your ass, his fingers digging into your skin.

“Is my girl horny?” He asked as you began to roll your hips, his cock brushing over your clit with every move.

“Is my wife desperate to cum? To be filled to the brink? To be fucked so hard the whole fucking building hears just what a slut she is?” He asked, closing his mouth around one of your nipples and sucking harshly, making you moan loudly, arching your back against his chest.

“Fuck me, Donaka.” You whimpered.

“No.” He said. Confused you looked down at him, a grin on his lips.

“You want to cum, you take what you want.”

The surprise must have been prominent on your face as he tilted his head up, to meet your lips in a longing kiss.

“Fuck me and you get to cum as often as you want.”

Reaching with your hand between your bodies, to pump his cock slowly you lined yourself up on top of him, before you slowly sank down on his cock, your eyes not leaving his before he filled you to the brink. Breathing in puffs you looked at each other, until you slowly began to move. With your nipples brushing over his chest hair, everytime you moved up and down, the only noise in the room were your whimpers. With your hand grabbing the headboard behind him you rode him, jumping up and down on his cock, feeling evey ridge and vein, the burn you always felt when he filled you, slowly turning into pleasure.

“Slap me.” You moaned, throwing your head back in ecstasy. His hand slapped your ass with force, his groans muffled by his mouth sucking bruised on the skin on your boobs. He loved to mark you there. For no one to see but him.

You were almost there when one of his arms sneaked behind your back, flipping you with your back on the mattress. Your surprised yelp turned into a long moan as he began to pump into you hard, his hand holding your wrists over your head down on the mattress, you automatically had brought up. Closing your eyes, as he hit your G Spot with every thrust you whimpered.

“Fuck! You are so sexy. I love when I make your tits jump with every fucking thrust.” He groaned. Opening your eyes, you just saw something pink flash beside him, when you screamed as he brought your vibrator down on your clit on the highest setting.

“Fuck Donaka….” You moaned. He let your wrists go, not that you had any intention on moving your arms.

“You better cum for me, cause I still have some work to do.” He growled, moving the vibe on your clit as his thrusts became deeper, making your toes curls.

With your last strength you brought one arm up to touch his biceps, making him kiss your hand.

“I…” He rubbed the vibe in circles over your clit, making you explode, you hand clutching the dark sheets. Whimpering, your whole body shook, as he fucked you through your orgasm, making it last until you almost passed out.

“Want me to cum inside you? Fill my wife with my cum?” He asked, making you moan. You loved when he called you wife.

“Yes, cum inside me Don…” You sighed, still trying to breathe normally when he groaned and spilled his massive load inside you. Looking into each other’s eyes as you tried to breathe you couldn’t believe that he was yours.

“I love you.” You whispered. A soft smile graced his lips, a smile that was only reserved for you.

“I love you too. Can you now go to sleep and let me work?” He asked, arching his left eyebrow.

“Seriously?” You asked.

“You’ve been a bad girl. You’re gonna need your strength for your punishment tomorrow.” He said in all seriousness, making you bite your lip.

“And we have an early flight out, so best to let me finish this.” He said, his cock slipping out of you. His eyes left yours for a moment, to look at your pussy, his cum dripping out of you, making him smirk.

“Early flight?” You asked.

“You really thought I’d forget our anniversary? I bought an island.” He said.

“An island?” You asked.

“Your island.” He corrected.

“What do I need to pack?” You asked. Grinning he leaned down, kissing you deeply.

“Nothing. Except maybe the diamond plug. Because that’s all you are going to be wearing for the next two weeks.” He whispered against your lips, before he sat back against the headboard.

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