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hungermakesmonsters · 28 days

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Devotion & Desire

Chapter Two

Plot summary : When you, a lone omega, move in across the hall from alpha Bucky Barnes, he knows that his life is about to get a lot more complicated, but he has no idea just how much you’re going to turn his life upside down. You’re both devoted to fixing your past mistakes, but will desire for something more get the better of you?

Pairing : Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader

Story Rating : R

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] This chapter contains violence. All chapters will contain the usual omegaverse and A/B/O tropes, and explicit smut. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : 5.9k

A/N : 😅😅😅

CHAPTER ONE

MASTER LIST

Chapter Two

It had been going so well.

Too well, really.

So well, that you really should have known that it was all going to go to shit.

You cursed under your breath as you limped away, sporadically glancing over your shoulder, making sure you weren’t being followed. It was paranoia mostly - you knew Bucky had more sense than to try and follow you out in the open. And it wasn’t as if you didn’t garner enough attention on your own, making your way past groups of people heading home after a night out on the town, looking every bit the poor, helpless and pathetic little omega as you limped alone.

You hated it and you hated yourself for letting it happen.

It had been sloppy, careless. Hindsight was a bitch and had no problem telling you everything you’d done wrong; you should have waited, you should have taken your time.

But that was the problem. You hadn’t wanted to wait. You hadn’t wanted to spend another moment with him like that; touching him, kissing him, and doing every other unmentionable thing. As you walked, you scrubbed your cheek with your sleeve, trying to get his scent off you, but it felt like it was everywhere, like it was seeping into your pores, into your very being, and you’d never be rid of it.

The only thing you knew for certain was that Bucky Barnes was supposed to be dead and you were going to have to find a way to fix your mistake.

Though first you’d need to deal with the world of shit you’d found yourself in. Everything you owned was back at your apartment and Bucky wasn’t an idiot, he wasn’t just going to sit back and forget that you’d tried to kill him. No, he was probably already trying to figure out who you were and why you wanted him dead.

Your weeks of hard work in getting close to him had gone down the drain and all the pathetic, degrading things you’d done had been rendered pointless.

It was playing over and over again in your head, every little thing you’d done and how you could have done better.

You’d played the part of the meek little omega, you’d made him want to protect you. That night in his apartment you’d spread your scent all over his bathroom in the hope of driving him crazy, getting in his head and making it so that you were all he could think about. And, then he’d started seeking you out; offering to walk you too and from work, and agreeing to come to the bar with you.

It had all been perfect.

He should be dead.

What had gone wrong?

You were so caught up in your own frustration that you didn’t hear the call at first, someone shouting your name from down the street. Looking up, you noticed Nikki and Jade, finally on their way home, heading straight towards you.

“What happened?” Nikki asked, looking you up and down, voice filled with concern.

“Didn’t you leave with Bucky?” Jade added a second later.

You took a breath, mind racing as you tried to come up with the perfect lie. Then your gaze dropped and you slipped back into the role of the helpless, delicate omega.

“I think I left my purse at the bar,” you said softly, not looking at either of them.

“You could have called us, we would’ve gone back for it,” Nikki told you.

“Did you tell Bucky? Did he not offer to walk you back to the bar?” Jade asked.

“No, he - we -” you swallowed awkwardly and paused for effect before daring to glance up.

“What’s wrong?” Nikki asked. “Did he -”

“No - no, Bucky didn’t do anything,” you quickly explained. “It was me, I - I tried to kiss him..”

The both fell into a stunned silence while you dropped your gaze again, looking thoroughly embarrassed. And, in a way, you were embarrassed, just not in the way that they thought.

“What did he do? If he was mean -” Nikki sounded ready to fight, and that was the last thing you needed.

“No, he was nice, really. I just - I feel so stupid for thinking he could like me like that...” you sighed, glancing up for a split-second to see if they were buying the lie. They were. “I needed some space so I came out for a walk. I don't want to go back to my apartment in case he sees and wants to talk about it, and then I tripped and hurt my ankle...”

“So, your purse...” Jade prompted softly.

You shook your head, indicating that you hadn’t left it, that you were just using it as an excuse to stay away from your apartment and, by extension, Bucky. For effect, you gave a little sniffle.

“Oh, mouse,” Nikki said with a shake of her head. “I’m sure it’s not that bad. I bet if you just talk to Bucky you’ll be able to sort it out.”

“I can’t. Not tonight,” you told her. “You didn’t see his face... it was so embarrassing.”

“Do you want to crash on our sofa tonight?” Jade offered.

You gave a weak little nod but stayed silent, quickly forming a plan. Their apartment was a couple of floors below yours but it was connected by the same fire escape. You’d be able to sneak back into your apartment in the morning, grab your stuff and get the hell out of there before Bucky could catch up to you.

The three of you walked back slowly, Jade putting her arm around your waist and helping you limp along on your injured ankle. Neither of them said anything, but you’d catch the way they were looking at you from the corner of your eye and it made your stomach turn.

Eventually you ended up in their apartment, set up on the sofa for the night, but you didn’t sleep; how could you when you knew he was upstairs and when you couldn’t trust that Nikki and Jade wouldn’t try to go talk to him on your behalf? Fortunately, the night passed without incident and, in the morning, you caught sight of Bucky leaving from the window. Your eyes followed him to his motorcycle, watching as he finished a phone call before riding off.

You didn’t have to hear his conversation to know that he was looking for you; he’d probably been up half the night trying to track you down, without once stopping to think that you’d be dumb enough to still be in the building.

You made your excuses to Nikki and Jade, and headed back upstairs.

Bucky had shut your apartment door, but the lock was busted. Fortunately, you weren’t planning on sticking around long enough to get your security deposit back. It didn’t look like anything had been taken, but a few drawers had been opened, obviously he’d spent some time in there, looking for clues. But you already knew he wouldn’t have found anything. It wasn’t like you’d kept a journal detailing how you wanted to kill your neighbour.

Luckily, the latch on the door was still intact and held the door shut well enough for you to dare to risk a quick shower, needing to scrub yourself to try and get rid of the last of his scent that you hadn’t been able to wash off the night before. Then you changed into some clean clothes and set about trying to pack a bag so you could get the hell out of there.

It was shocking just how much you’d settled into the apartment in the few months you’d been there, and you almost felt sad knowing you were leaving it. Aside from the act you’d had to put on for everyone around you, you realised that you’d actually liked it there; you’d found a comfort and sense of safety that you’d never had before.

Lost in the strange feeling, you almost didn’t notice the door rattling until someone forced their way inside, breaking the latch and the last thing holding the door shut.

Turning you expected to see him standing there, angry and ready to demand an explanation.

But it wasn’t Bucky.

There were two of them, and you could only guess what they wanted, but you didn’t bother wasting time asking. Instead you dropped behind the sofa.

You pulled the knife from your boot and threw it, catching one of your attackers in the shoulder, causing him to stagger back and let out a string of curses. There was a moment of confusion, but they quickly realised where you were. Scrambling out of your hiding place, you tried to race for your nightstand and the gun that was hidden in the top drawer, but your injured ankle slowed you down. Before you got there, a large hand grabbed your collar and a fistful of your hair, yanking you backwards so hard that you fell.

A boot connected with your stomach, knocking the wind from you, but it didn’t stop you from grabbing the leg attached to that boot and biting down as hard as you could, earning a pained yelp from your attacker. A second later, you were scrambling towards the door, desperate to get out. Then came another kick and, this time, instead of pulling away, he pressed his boot down on your back, holding you in place.

You heard the click of a gun’s safety and held your breath, waiting for the inevitable.

“Hey, jackass, Rumlow wants her alive,” said the other and your stomach almost turned itself inside out at the sound of a name you hadn’t heard in five years.

“I’m not gonna kill her, just gonna put one in the back of her leg to keep her from running,” came the response.

Immediately, you started to struggle, cursing and swearing as he pressed down harder on your back and laughed. You were trapped and powerless to defend yourself; you were everything you’d never wanted to be again, and the realisation had you thrashing and struggling in vain.

“What’s he want with a scrawny little omega like this anyway?”

Somehow, you managed to crawl a few inches despite the weight on your back, managing to get yourself ever so slightly closer to the nightstand, refusing to give up, refusing to resign yourself to your fate.

“I dunno,” the other goon answered, looking down at you, “she’s a feisty little thing though.”

You twisted and squirmed, trying to reach behind you to pull the boot from your back, still fighting, even though you knew there was no real chance of escape. Each breath you took was an awkward gasp, panic plus the pressure on your chest was making it harder and harder to breathe. And it only got worse when your vision started to blur.

But, before you could pass out, you felt something against your neck, then you were zapped with about a thousand volts. The pain only lasted a couple of seconds before you lost consciousness.

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

In a way, Bucky knew that he should have seen it coming, that you (or any one really) wanting to be close to him should only ever have been seen as a massive red flag. In retrospect, it was easy to see how he’d fallen for it, how he’d let you play him and get close enough to almost take his life.

And Bucky was angry, he was pissed that he’d let you get close, that he’d allowed himself to want for the first time in years.

He wanted to follow you as you ran, consequences be damned. He wanted to know why, wanted to know how your lies could make him feel a longing ache in the cave of his chest, an ache that hadn’t lessened even after your betrayal.

For hours he looked through your apartment, trying to find some sign of who you were and why you wanted him dead, but there was nothing. He made call after call, upsetting almost everyone he knew by disturbing them at such a late hour. All he managed to find out was what he’d already suspected; the name you’d given him was fake, and so was every little scrap of your past that you’d shared.

There was no trace of you, like your entire life had been a lie, like you’d never even been a real person.

He began to wonder if you’d been trained somewhere like the Red Room, or been part of the Winter Soldier program, but none of that made sense. While you were clever enough to get close to him, it was obvious from your scuffle that you had no training, that you weren’t a fighter or a trained assassin.

By the time morning came around, there was only one person left that Bucky hadn’t asked for help.

And, with great reluctance, he went to see Sam.

There was an awkwardness to the way he stood there in Sam’s home, half looking at him, the person he considered to be his only friend, and only in the loosest sense of the word. He didn’t want to explain himself or the maelstrom of emotions that he was trying to fight back. All he wanted was help finding you.

“I need your help tracking someone down,” he said, pulling up a photo he’d taken of the group on his phone last night, zooming in on your face. “I have a name, but I don’t think it’s real. The picture’s all I have to go on.”

Sam looked at the picture then looked at Bucky

“You know, when a woman doesn’t tell you her real name during a hook-up, it’s usually a sign she’s not interested in a relationship,” Sam joked with an easy sort of smile that Bucky had always been jealous of.

“It’s not like that,” Bucky answered, snatching back his phone. “She tried to kill me.”

“You do have that effect on people.”

“And this is why you’re the last person I came to for help,” Bucky responded, taking a step back, about ready to give up leave.

“I see that cyborg brain of yours still doesn’t know how to process humour.”

“It can process humour just fine, it’s that you’re not funny,” Bucky snapped, his tone more than enough to tell his friend that he was already wearing on his last nerve. This was important to him and he wasn’t in the mood to play games. “If you’re not gonna help -”

“Alright, alright,” Sam held his hands up, signalling his surrender, “send me the photo and I’ll pass it on to Torres and see if he can find anything. In the meantime, why don’t you tell me exactly what happened?”

Bucky did as he was asked, sending the picture of Sam and then watching as Sam sent it on. Then there was a pause, Bucky obviously hesitating before he started to explain what had happened, in a tasteful and censored way. He told Sam how you’d moved in and how he’d tried to help you, how he’d tried to be a good alpha, and how the pair of you had started to get close.

“Any idea why she tried to kill you?” Sam dared to ask, even though he seemed to sense that it was something of a sensitive subject for Bucky.

“No, she didn’t exactly stick around to explain it after trying to stab me.”

Sam gave him a look that had Bucky bristling, looking about ready to fight if Sam even thought about making another joke.

“Do you think someone paid her?” Sam said, looking at your picture again.

“No... it felt personal. She was really angry...” Bucky said, barely managing to hold back a sigh. “But she didn’t fight like she had any training and she’s an omega, so it’s not like she stood a chance at overpowering me..”

“She must’ve put on quite the act if she managed to get that close to you.” Again Bucky bristled, discomfort on his face betraying him. But if Sam noticed, thankfully, he decided not to say anything about it. “Why does it feel like there’s more than your wounded pride at stake here?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bucky shrugged. “I just want to know why she tried to kill me and if she’s gonna try again.”

Sam was about to say something when his phone buzzed with a message.

“Torres says it might take him a couple of hours.”

“Can you let me know what he finds?” Bucky asked.

“Sure. Where are you going?”

“Home. In case she goes back to her apartment.”

“You really think she’ll go back?”

“I don’t think she planned for failure,” Bucky offered, “I think she saw the opportunity and took it, now she’s out there with nothing but the clothes on her back.”

“Need me to come with?”

Bucky shook his head. “No, if she shows up I can deal with her.”

The pair shared an awkward goodbye and Bucky headed back to the apartment building, hoping that he hadn’t missed you, but not entirely sure what he’d do if you did turn up. He told himself that he just wanted answers, but it was more than that; he wanted to understand, he wanted to know why you’d gone to such great lengths.

A van peeled past him as he reached the building and he quickly noticed Nikki on the sidewalk, blood pouring from her nose, her eyes fixed on the van until she noticed Bucky.

“What happened?” Bucky asked, quickly moving to her, trying to make sure she was alright.

“They took her,” she answered, frantic. “Someone took mouse.”

“What?” He glanced down the street at the van.

“They had guns, Bucky. I think they’re gonna - oh my god...” she let out an awkward sob, her hand lifting to cover her mouth as she struggled not to fall apart.

“It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay,” Bucky told her, placing a hand on her shoulder and trying to comfort her.

“She was bleeding, Bucky. They’re gonna hurt her,” she continued. “I tried to stop them, but I -”

For a split second, he was torn - torn between staying and looking after Nikki and going after you - but his indecision didn’t last long. Whatever was going on, he wasn’t going to let anyone hurt you. He needed answers, he needed to know what was going on.

“Go inside,” he told her, starting back towards his motorcycle, “I’m going to get her back.”

Bucky didn’t wait for a response before starting the engine and taking off after the van.

He easily managed to catch up with the van in the city traffic, pulling up alongside it. He couldn’t see you, but he could hear something, someone, in the back of the van, struggling and kicking against the door. Whatever was going on, Bucky knew he wasn’t going to get any answers if he couldn’t get to you. Hearing your screams and shouts was the last straw; no matter who you really were or what you’d done, you didn’t deserve this.

Slamming his vibranium arm into the passenger door, he tore it off the van, quickly pulling one of your kidnappers out and tossing him into the street, causing the car behind to swerve wildly. In the commotion, the driver fumbled for his gun, giving Bucky ample time to climb into the van and slam his fist into the guy’s jaw. His head rebounded off the window, and the van turned sharply, slamming into a streetlight.

The collision was enough to knock the driver out.

Bucky climbed out of the van, practically tearing the back door off as he pulled it open, find you bloody and sprawled unconscious on the floor. He quickly dialled Sam.

“Hey, Sam, do you still have that safehouse downtown?”

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

You woke up in a small, mostly unfurnished bedroom with no memory of how you’d gotten there; you could remember waking up in the back of the van, kicking and screaming, trying to get out but, then, nothing. But that blank spot in your memory was really the least of your concerns.

When you moved, everything ached. Someone had cleaned you up and bandaged your wounds but, given the circumstances, that just made you feel worse.

All you wanted to do was curl up and surrender yourself to whatever was about to happen. You were so tired of running, so tired of fighting.

You wanted to give up.

You just wanted to sleep.

But a familiar scent reached you, a scent that confused everything even more; Bucky.

Your head ached as you tried to process what was going on and how you’d come to be with Bucky and not Rumlow, and how you’d come to trade one kind of fear for another.

Slowly, you managed to get to your feet, despite the way that the room seemed to spin and the floor felt uneven beneath your feet. Looking around, you tried to find something that gave you some idea of what was going on, but there was nothing. The only things in the room were the bed, a small bedside table with empty drawers, and an empty wardrobe. The view from the window told you that you were in an apartment building, but you couldn’t tell where.

Once you’d finished looking around the room, you headed for the door, expecting to find it locked but, instead, it opened out into the rest of the apartment.

And there he was.

Bucky was sitting on the sofa, but he got to his feet the second the door opened. You gripped the doorframe as your stomach knotted and cramped, fear coiling in your insides at the realisation you were trapped and there was no way you’d be able to escape him.

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air between you, neither of you moving, neither of you taking your eyes off the other. Your mind was racing, trying to figure out what was happening and why you were there instead of rotting in a cell or worse.

“What’s going on?” You finally forced yourself to ask, trying not to lean too heavily against the doorframe, not wanting to show him just how weak and vulnerable you were.

“Funny, I was gonna ask you the same thing,” he answered, anger and upset thick in his voice.

Finally, you let your gaze shift to the door and started weighing up whether you could reach it before he stopped you. And Bucky noticed, in fact, he took a step towards you, almost goading you to try your luck.

“Why am I here?” You asked, exhausting and discomfort intensifying with every second that passed.

“Because I want answers before I decide what to do with you,” Bucky answered. “The guys that tried to grab you were ex-Hydra, a hit squad - is that who you’re working for?”

“I’m not working for anyone.”

“So it’s personal then?”

“I’m not playing twenty questions with you,” you answered with a sharpness that he didn’t expect, a tone he’d never heard from you before. “Just get it over with.”

“Get what over with?” His confusion was almost believable, but you knew better than to think he didn’t know what you were talking about.

“Just kill me.”

“I don’t make a habit of killing unarmed omegas for no reason.”

“Right. Sure you don’t.” you scoffed sarcastically.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means drop the crap. I know you’re the Winter Soldier.”

Suddenly it felt like all the air had been sucked from the room and there was no missing the flicker of discomfort that crossed his face before a look of resignation appeared. You leaned against the doorframe all the more, watching as he struggled to respond, feeling worse by the second.

“So - what? - you came after me to settle a score?” He finally found his voice.

“You killed my brother,” you spat. “You ruined my life.”

Again, there was silence, but all you could think about was the suffocating heat in the room and how it felt like you could barely breathe, and how every breath you did manage to take filled your lungs with his scent.

Bucky had said something and was staring at you expectantly but your only response was to shake your head and start moving, limping towards the door knowing you couldn’t escape but wanting to try your luck regardless. You made it about halfway before you had to stop, the pain in your abdomen only getting worse until you were almost doubled over. Before you could think, before you could say anything, Bucky was at your side, catching you just as your legs crumpled beneath you.

Your vision blurred and you almost lost yourself in his scent and the way his arm pulled you against him in his attempts to steady you. And, for a moment, you wanted nothing more than to melt into his side and surrender yourself to whatever might happen, but you refused to give up that easily.

“No,” you muttered weakly, trying to push him away, “get off me.”

He didn’t let go, knowing that if he did you’d only end up on the floor.

“You need to lay down,” you heard him mutter, a tenderness in his voice that didn’t belong, a kindness you didn’t want or need.

As much as you tried to struggle, you found yourself led back into the bedroom and placed on the bed. The moment your head hit the pillow, everything went black.

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

The revelation that he had killed your brother had left Bucky reeling. It wasn’t the first time that he’d been forced to confront his past as the Winter Soldier but it was turning out to be one of the most painful. He’d hurt you, taken something from you, and he’d never be able to make that right. The thought alone was enough to make him spiral.

As easy as it would have been to hide behind the idea that it hadn’t really been him, that the Winter Soldier wasn’t him, Bucky couldn’t separate himself from the pain he’d obviously caused you. And the worst part? He had no way of knowing who your brother was, no way of narrowing it down or understanding why; had your brother been his target, or had he just been collateral damage.

For a couple of hours he sat, thinking over all the terrible things he’d done, remembering all the things that haunted him, all the things he wouldn’t allow himself to forget in the hopes that something would spark a memory and he’d have the answers that he needed. But, the sorry truth of the matter was that he had far too much blood on his hands, too many deaths on his conscience.

Whatever had happened, it seemed that his actions as the Winter Soldier had set you on a path that had put you in the crosshairs of dangerous people and, now that he had some idea of why, Bucky knew that he needed to try and make amends. He needed to try and help you.

But, convincing you to let him was going to be the hardest part.

There was so much he didn’t know, but the majority of the anger and hostility he’d felt towards you had disappeared the moment he started to understand why you wanted him dead. Your words still rang in his ears; you ruined my life. It made him feel sick, but it was a sickness he’d felt before, a sickness he’d managed to work through.

When the bedroom door opened again a few hours later, he was shocked to see that, instead of looking better and rested, you somehow looked worse. You were barely keeping your balance as you stopped and looked at him, pure hatred in your eyes.

“What do you want with me?” You finally asked. “Am I your prisoner?”

“I don’t want anything. And, no, you’re not a prisoner,” Bucky answered, slowly getting to his feet and watching you closely, in case you collapsed again.

“So I can leave?”

“You can, but it’d hardly be the smartest option when you’ve got an ex-Hydra hit-squad looking for you,” he answered.

For a moment you gave him an indecipherable look, as if you were caught between shock and confusion that he’d put everything together so quickly. He didn’t bother to tell you it was because he’d had at least half a dozen people researching you and your assailants, trying to find out whatever they could.

“That’s how he found me...” you sighed under your breath but, before Bucky could ask, you were moving towards the door.

“Seriously?” He asked, clinging desperately to the last of his patience. “Just look at you, you can barely walk. How far do you think you’re gonna get?”

“Whose fault is that?” You snapped back.

“Seriously? You're gonna try and blame me? You jumped off the fire escape after trying to kill me,” he stated, moving to block you as you tried to reach the door.

“I thought you said I wasn’t a prisoner.”

No. You weren’t a prisoner but Bucky couldn’t let you go, not in your current state. You could barely stand and, besides, you had nowhere to go and nothing but your phone.

“You’re not, but if you think I’m gonna let you get yourself killed...”

“I can’t stay here with you,” you told him, trying to step around him.

“You’re not exactly a joy to be around either but you should at least wait until you’re well enough to -”

“My heat is about to start,” you finally admitted, hoping it would be enough to make him move. It wasn't.

“Seriously?” A moment later he was shaking his head. “All the more reason you should stay. You’re not gonna be able to look after yourself.”

“You’re fucking kidding, right?” You asked and the look he gave you was enough to tell you that he wasn’t. He was dead serious. “I can’t stay here with you.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I can control myself around an omega in heat,” he answered, annoyed by the implication.

But, if he was honest, he understood at least some part of your worry; the events of the night before were still burned into his memory and, even though that longing ache in his chest had dulled somewhat, it was still there.

“Said every alpha ever,” you muttered, turning away from him, obviously looking for another way out.

“Look, I get it -” he tried, following after you.

“No, you really don’t.”

“I killed someone close to you and I’m sorry -”

“Sorry?” You turned back towards him, tone dripping with disbelief. “I bet you don’t even remember him. I bet you don’t even remember why. You don’t get to tell me sorry.”

“You’re right,” Bucky conceded, “I don’t remember a lot of my time as the Winter Soldier, but I want to make this right.”

You lunged suddenly, almost losing your foot as your hands met his chest and pushed. He barely moved and you almost crumpled to the floor as you shoved him.

“There is no making this right,” you told him angrily, hitting a balled fist against his chest. “You can’t fix this. You can’t bring him back from the dead.”

“Maybe not, but I can keep you alive,” he answered stubbornly, gripping your arm for a moment so you didn’t fall. “I have some friends looking for the guys that tried to grab you, once they’re in custody I’ll take you back to your apartment and we’ll never have to see each other again, okay?”

But, obviously, it wasn’t okay.

“I. Can’t. Stay. Here.” You repeated, slowly, as if he was an idiot. (And maybe he was an idiot for trying to help you.)

“If I was going to hurt you, don’t you think I would’ve done it by now?” He answered back, tone becoming clipped as he became more frustrated by the conversation. “Just... let me help you and, when all of this is all over and you can stand without looking like you’re gonna pass out, you can have your revenge.”

The offer was made more out of desperation than anything else; he just wanted you to be safe while he dealt with the people trying to hurt you. Everything else could come after.

You made your way into the kitchen and he watched you glancing out the window, as if you were weighing up the pros and cons of jumping from the fifth floor. There was panic on your face as you turned back and looked towards the front door again, but Bucky was starting to realise that he wasn’t the only thing making you feel that way.

“What’s the big deal? It’s not like this is your first heat.” He said because it couldn’t be - you must have been dealing with them for easily over a decade now.

Finally, you turned your attention back to him, no longer trying to hide your discomfort

“I haven’t had a heat in over five years,” you confessed with all of your previous anger. “I don’t do this. I don’t want to do this, especially not near you.”

Bucky chose to ignore the obvious insult. “Five years? How is that even possible?”

“Suppressants,” you snapped. “That I stopped taking so I could get close to you.”

“Oh, well I’m sorry my attempted murder was such an inconvenience to you,” he retorted sarcastically. He fell silent for a moment, watching as your trembling hand reached for the counter for support. “I thought you weren’t supposed to take them over long periods of time? Doesn’t that cause serious problems?”

“Wow, are you really going to stand there and try to alpha-splain it to me?”

“No, that’s not -” he stopped himself, seeing you tense in discomfort. “Can you just go sit down before you fall down?”

“I told you, I can’t -”

“Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first twenty times,” he said, moving towards you and wrapping an arm around your waist, forcibly leading you from the kitchen and into the bedroom again, depositing you on the bed.

You didn’t fight him, despite obviously wanting nothing more than to push him away from you. He wondered if being close to him had the same effect that being close to you had on him, if his scent was filling your lungs with every breath.

“I can see if I can find something, some suppressants or -”

“It’s too late. You have to take them before it starts...” you told him.

“Then what do you need?” He asked.

You looked shocked by the concern in his voice and the way he was looking at you - which, given you’d tried to kill him less than twenty-four hours ago, seemed fair. But Bucky ignored it. Whether it was alpha instincts or guilt over whatever he’d done to your brother, he just wanted to help you, look after you. It didn’t matter that you hated him. It didn’t even matter that he was almost certain you’d try to kill him again once you got the chance.

He needed to do this. He needed to try and fix whatever he’d broken, however he could.

“I need you to leave me alone,” you told him.

Bucky tongued the inside of his cheek, biting back a dozen comments that would probably only make the situation worse before relenting. He lingered for a few seconds before shrugging and letting out a sigh, before finally turning and leaving the room, closing the door behind him and giving you what you needed.

End Note : I know I'm probably raising more questions than I'm answering with this chapter but don't worry, everything will be answered eventually. And, yes, by Rumlow I do mean Brock (I'm saying he's still alive because I needed a bad guy 😅) Anyway, thanks for all the likes/comments/reblogs on the first chapter!

If you'd like to be tagged in future chapters, let me know!

Tag List : @greatenthusiasttidalwave

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes imagine #alpha!bucky barnes #marvel omegaverse #tfatws #devotion ff

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gomu-fer · 7 months

Text

The sparrow and the hunter

Zoro x fem!reader

Warnings: pure fluff, mentions of daggers, zoro making fun of gods as he does, fem reader can transform into an animal idk thought you should know

Word count: 2.1k

Summary: In which Zoro falls hard for you and he struggles with it

𖤓˖⁺‧₊☽𓅨☾₊‧⁺˖𖤓

When you first joined the crew, Zoro was very skeptical about what you actually would bring to the table, since your abilities were… unique to say the least, but you had helped them giving useful information and advise when in a very tight situation, and who was he to doubt his captains decisions.

“A BIRD?” Luffy exclaimed almost jumping out of his seat. Yes, you could turn into a bird

“Yep, that’s why I am a good informant! People don’t suspect of a tiny sparrow flying around” you explained followed by a wink

“But… how?!” The navigator asked still confused

You turned around tugging your shirt slightly down and removing your hair form your back to reveal a tattoo “This is an ancient mark that was bestowed upon me by my people, the mark of a god called Quetzalcoatl, also known as the feathered snake. It carries the power that allows me to transform”

This only made Zoro grow even more doubtful about you, a god? It sounded like a fairytale to him. But as it turned out, you were also a fearless fighter, extremely skillful with daggers and combined with your special ability it made you fierce, which earned you his respect quickly after having fought beside him and the strawhats.

As you slowly went from the quiet reserved new crewmate to show your real colors of a confident caring bright and easygoing individual, the swordsman didn’t mind sharing with you the ‘training zone’ which was just a section of the going merry Nami had assigned to such activities to prevent accidents. Most if not all of the time you would train separately since you only did cardio and battle training and Zoro was more of a heavy lifting kind of guy. Both seemed to enjoy the silence of each other’s company and only exchanging few hellos and goodbyes.

But of course that slowly began to change when Zoro became curious on your fighting tactics

“Where did you get that dagger?” He asked from the other side of the ‘gym’ after staring at you training from a while, you turned to him a little taken aback, he wasn’t the one to talk let alone start a conversation

“I made it myself when I was 12” you answered as you slowly walked to where the stoic swordsman was standing.

Zoro had noticed how this dagger was different from the others you kept on your belt, not only was the shape and overall hold and design different, you kept it in a cover around your thigh at all times, so it peeked his interest

You presented the dagger, making slow steady movements that made it shine in the afternoon sun, it indeed looked more homemade, and the sharp edge was of a black shiny material he had never seen before.

“My father was a hunter, he showed me how to build this type of daggers to protect myself since we lived in the mountains… and for artistic purposes” Zoro’s eyes examined every detail of the weapon, and in further examination he noticed how indeed everything about it was really you, your essence was plastered all over it

“Interesting” he said still fixated on the dagger “You can hold it”

Zoro looked at you now closer and speaking almost in a whisper, you handed him your beloved weapon and he took it slowly. It was lighter than he expected it to be, he made an aggressive strong move as if he was cutting something and you giggled which made him embarrassed and a little insecure

“What?” He blurted out in defense

“You don’t use it like that, it’s meant for self defense or close targets. You have to move fast and steady” you took his hand in yours and demonstrated how to attack with it cornering your own throat between the dagger

“Always strike with purpose”

The swordsman felt his heart rate accelerate and a pink blush creeping from his neck, his gaze fixated in yours and his mind racing. You offered a sweet smile before removing yourself from the hold, Zoro returned the dagger to you shyly “Nice uhm… technique… and beautiful dagger” he immediately turned around to resume his workout, still flushed and with nervous hands.

The green haired pirate felt his head spinning not believing how you, a freshly arrived new strawhat, had not only allowed him to hold something you treasured and valued so much, but also had pointed it to your neck with his hands while being a man that doubled you in size and strength. His head couldn’t stop thinking about the intimacy of it all, it had left him breathless. You trusted him

But really it was just the beginning of the end for this poor man. Zoro had found himself trying to have more of you, like you had casted a spell, craving for your attention and essence.

He now looked for you when he entered any room, always wanting to be in your presence even while you just were enjoying your hobbies or any mundane task, he was eager to learn things about you and oh what a wonderful person you were to chat to, always keeping the conversation fun and interesting, listening attentively when it was his turn to talk, always sharing a piece of your soul.

You had seen through his stoic scary facade and saw what he really was. Everything that Zoro did was driven by love and the deep meaningful connections with the people around him, always remaining loyal and acting as the protector of the crew not because it’s his job but because he cares. He may not be as expressive as Sanji, but you were able to read him.

This scared Zoro immensely, not only cause he started to catch himself feeling annoyed whenever the stupid cook swooned your way or called you sweet names, or cause he couldn’t stop thinking about you even when training or trying to nap, or cause somehow you seemed to enjoy being around him too. No, it scared him because it made him feel like you had a hold on his heart and was afraid of being vulnerable. He felt weak

So when he finally came to the conclusion he was falling for you, and falling hard, instead of talking about his feelings, he opted for actively avoid you but of course you noticed right away. At first you gave him some time pretending you didn’t notice, he probably needed space from you feeling like you were smothering him, but eventually it had started not only to become ridiculous but to hurt you, because at the contrary of Zoros better judgment, you cared.

You excused yourself from dinner way early one evening, making a lame excuse so that you could finally catch Zoro alone on the crows nest on night watch and confront him, tired of his obnoxious behavior. Your stomach stirred in nervousness as you laid down on your hammock trying to distract yourself while crocheting, the door creaked open and you saw Nami menacingly standing in front of the door

“When are you gonna pull Zoro out of his misery?” your brows furrowed and a scoff escaped your lips

“What are you talking about? He’s the one avoiding me” The navigator rolled her eyes and sighed very loudly clearly annoyed

“He’s head over heels for you y/n! But he doesn’t know what to do just spare him”

“That’s not true” you sounded almost sad, Nami slowly came closer to you changing her approach

“You’re kidding right?, I swear he almost got up and ran after you when you stormed out, he’s smitten I had never seen him like this” you didn’t answer, thinking about his change in behavior and Namis thoughts, it seemed like it made sense

“I was planning on talking to him later anyways”

An exited squirm escaped Nami as she aggressively pushed your hammock back and forth shaking you “FINALLY! I swear you both were driving me insane”

As the sun disappeared behind the ocean and the moon greeted you shining through the cloudless sky, you awaited for everyone to retire to their bedrooms to peek your head through the door of the girls quarters, the ship was lulled by the waves and not a sound could be heard, quite rare for the Merry to be this quiet only confirming everyone was fast asleep.

You looked up to see the swordsman’s green hair peeking through the crows nest, only making you more nervous

“I can see you staring you know?” Zoro spoke loud enough so you could hear but not to wake anyone up, a shiver ran down your spine before you cleared your throat approaching the tall nest

“Can we talk? Please?” You didn’t wait for an answer before transforming and flying your way up, feeling shaky as you landed in the edge and morphing back

“I guess” Zoro whispered, arms crossed in front of his chest looking up at the stars twinkling in the night sky

The gentle breeze made your hair dance revealing your glistening eyes and your pinkish cheeks, the moonlight softened you making you look like a fallen angel that had answered to Zoros prayers. Of course he knew what were you doing here, it made his heart quiver in anticipation both of not having a clue of how you may approach the topic and to finally see you up close again after a long time of staring from afar

“Why are you avoiding me?” Oh so we are going straight to it “I gave you space so you would figure things out, but it has gotten stupid what did I do wrong?”

Silence pierced your ears only hearing your heavy breaths both of how nervous you were and how quickly you had morphed to get up there with him, you had never been so blunt in your life but it was Zoro who we are talking about here there was no way around it

“I don’t know” after a while of you staring at him while his gaze shifted from you to literally anything else this was his response? You sighed defeated before getting up

“I won’t get in your way then” it hurt you deeply but what else could you do if you couldn’t reason with the hardheaded swordsman?. Before you could get on the ladder you felt a strong hand reach yours in a hurry

“Wait… stay” there was a shift in his tone, you had never heard Zoro speak like this, it was like soft plead for understanding. You hesitated but sat back down face to face while he kept his grip on your hand

“If you don’t tell me what you’re feeling I can’t understand Zoro” you also changed your tone to a softer one, making him feel secure, encouraging him to speak up.

There was no other way around it, even if he didn’t felt ready to say it out loud the more he did leaps around his feelings the worse it’ll get. Zoro squished your hand as he struggled to find the words

“I’m avoiding you because I can’t handle the way you make me feel” He couldn’t look at you even if he tried but if he did he would be met with a puzzled expression planted all over your face

“I am falling for you and I don’t know what to do”

Zoro looked intensely into your big orbs that shone as bright as the moonlight above both of you, the confusion of your face was washed away immediately, a loving smile now in its place. You giggled which made him back up in embarrassment you did that often

“You love me you big idiot! That’s what you do” you said before leaning in to lock your lips in his.

The pirates eyes widen in surprise but slowly welcomed your action, melting in your touch and positioning a hand in your back to keep you closer while both of your hands hanged from his neck. You tasted sweet like he imagined but way more addictive, he never wanted to part his lips from yours ever again, but breathing was necessary for both of you.

Your smile came back to your mouth as you separated, cupping both of his cheeks so he would keep looking at you

“I love you Zoro”

An unfamiliar warmth settled on his face, but a wonderful feeling captured his heart and then he knew, if he was to ever give his heart to anyone in the world it’ll be you, you’ll take care of it and love it unconditionally

“If I say it back you’ll kiss me again?” your laugh was heard again brightening the dark sea and the pirates soul

“Yes”

“I love you too y/n”

𖤓˖⁺‧₊☽𓅨☾₊‧⁺˖𖤓

Omg I loved doing this oneeee, and ofc had to represent my culture adding an aztec god as reference ☝🏻 if you want a series or a follow up lmk, as always feel free to request and correct me, English is not mu first language

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magicalbats · 5 months

Text

Kinktober Day 21: Lingerie

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 12,750

Warnings: Afab!reader, lingerie (male wearing), rimming & anal fingering, oral sex (all male receiving), prostate massage/milking, I don't believe I used any gendered language in this one but if something slipped my radar I apologize

A/N: I know I said I was going to wait until these were all done to start posting them but as I was looking at my progress on the prompt list I decided to just say fuck it, we ball. These probably aren't going to come quite back to back (heh) but there shouldn't be too big a gap between them either. Basically your take away here should be to never trust anything I say lol

⭐

The taverns of Mondstadt are a great place to hide in plain sight as long as you’re a regular. New faces stand out even in a crowd but an old familiar face can easily be overlooked if you play your cards right. Don’t draw too much attention to yourself. Don’t talk to any other patrons beyond what was strictly necessary. Mind your business. It’s quite easy, really. Anyone can do it, even the Captain of the Cavalry who’s charming smiles and dashing good looks far precede his reputation amongst the knights.

Kaeya, for his part, is exceptionally talented when it comes to such games and that makes the sleight of hand all the easier to pull off. He knows how to keep his cards close to his chest while at the same time showing any curious onlookers exactly what they wanted to see. What they expected. It was a matter of simple misdirection when you got right down to it, but a soundly effective one. He wasn’t one to disappoint a captivated audience if he could help it, after all.

You understood this to be one of many on the gradually growing list of things you liked about him, and it was at least partially what made playing with him so damn fun. Sometimes it felt like you couldn’t get enough of this titillating subterfuge.

“Looks like I win again.”

Consideringly, you glance over the cards he’s set down on the table in a near perfect, fanning arch. It did certainly appear to be a winning play for him which meant another loss for you to tally up on your side. That was fine though. You weren’t exactly betting all your chips on the opening act when you still had the real show to look forward to later. This was just something to kill the time. The true fun would start afterwards and you were sure to come out on top, victorious as well as properly satiated in the end. That, at least, was a certainty rather than a gamble.

“So it seems,” You agree, giving him a quick smile. “You’re having awfully good luck tonight, Captain. You wouldn’t happen to be breaking any rules to stack the odds in your favor, would you?”

He laughs like it’s an absurd suggestion. Like he wasn’t known for doing just that with enough regularity to become a noticeable trend to anyone who knew him beyond a surface level acquaintance. The average citizen wouldn’t recognize it for what it was. Even the knights working directly under him in the Favonious Cavalry would only suspect it but they’d never know for sure and they probably didn’t grasp the full scope of it either. Kaeya was good at playing the role of a harmless philanderer, yes, but unfortunately for him so were you.

As one of the sole members of the specialized intelligence scouts that reported directly to Captain Eula, you were just as adept at reading people and taking on various roles as he was. In many ways you were a glorified spy, often going undercover to infiltrate enemy lines — usually that of treasure hoarders and their ranks. The only real difference between you and him was that covert sting operations were actually in your job description. Kaeya couldn’t say the same, yet that didn’t stop him from taking on many of the same kinds of tasks you would have been assigned. He could have easily given you a real run for your money if he’d wanted to.

You felt relatively certain that, sooner or later, he would have been recruited into the Reconnaissance Company just the same as you if only that unfortunate situation with his adoptive brother hadn’t happened. With a captain's seat empty and needing to be filled, the answer had been an obvious one.

But fate, as they say, weaves itself into the most curious of patterns. It wasn’t really your place to speculate any further than that, though it is hard not to let your mind wander sometimes when there were so many ‘what if’s and ‘could have been’s floating around him.

Thinking the two of you would have made quite the team in another lifetime, you lean forward to brace your elbows on the table. Deliberately casual and unassuming. That was the name of the game while the rest of the tavern went about its business, blissfully unaware and none the wiser to the subtle foreplay being exchanged right in plain sight for anyone to see if they’d just stop long enough to actually look.

Some would have called this risky but you thought it really quite tantalizing for a first course appetizer.

Kaeya does the same, mirroring the motion, except he reaches out to curl his fingers around the humble pile of mora sitting in the center to claim it for himself. As he pulls it over to his side, his open shirt shifts with the movement. You just catch a glimpse of rich red lace when it barely peeks out from behind crisp white cotton and your pulse starts to speed up. It was bold even for him but the heightened chance of discovery only further feeds into your own excitement for what was to come. What it suggested.

“I don’t need to stoop so low as to intentionally rig the game, my friend.” He tells you quietly under all the wordless din of drinking and merrymaking. It would have been easy to miss had you not been so fine tuned to the presence sitting across from you that you may as well have been the only two in the room at that moment. “I’m just lucky enough to be enjoying a nice winning streak this evening, that’s all. To be honest I’m a little hurt you’d lobby such a baseless accusation against me. You know what they say about sore losers …”

“I’m sure you’ll get over it. What’s a little friendly banter between colleagues after all, right?” He chuckles at that, and your smile quickly turns into a grin. “I’ll admit, your ability to turn things around is quite remarkable though. Wasn’t it just last week when you suffered a resounding defeat at my hands playing Eilfern? Now here you are winning at Whist as if you’ve never lost a game in your life and you don’t still owe me from last time.”

The way Kaeya looks at you over the table speaks volumes, but no one on the outside looking in could ever guess at the effect it was having on you by the way he casually shifts in his seat. He doesn’t look like someone with any real investment in the conversation, neither the game nor this ongoing exchange with you. It all appears very lackadaisical and unimportant to him but you weren’t fooled. You knew better than that.

“Oh, you’ll get what you won from me last time. No question about that. Don’t tell me you’re in such dire need that you’re getting desperate for it after only a few days?”

If you were the type, you would’ve been blushing straight up to your ears. “Need I remind you, Captain, that I wouldn’t be amicable to playing these card games with you if I didn’t expect my winnings in a timely fashion.”

“So you are chomping at the bit.” The sound of his laughter is like the soft caress of silk on your skin as he leans forward as if to share a confidential word with you. Either a secret or something important that isn’t meant for any of the other patrons to overhear, but all it does is provide you with another brief glimpse of the lingerie hidden away behind his clothes when his shirt pulls open a bit more at the subtle stretch.

It’s entirely calculated from the motion itself to the way his clothes are too tight in some places and concealingly loose in others. The fur embellishment on his capelet and the long hair that slips forward over his opposite shoulder thoroughly saw to it that no one else besides you would be able to get a good look at the delicate lace pulled taut over his chest. The people sitting nearest to your little corner table might have been able to make out a curious shock of red on the Captain’s otherwise cool toned attire but they’d never be able to tell for sure what it was. Only you were privileged with the knowledge and you subconsciously lick your lips at the tawdry show he was putting on.

This was something of a routine between the two of you at this point. A tradition of sorts. It was impossible to say when it had actually started or where it had escalated to this level of intimate favors exchanged under the guise of gambling wagers but you were immensely glad for it. You won at Eilfern the last time you’d met up and you’d told him you wanted to see him in lingerie. Before that he’d gotten to finger you for what felt like hours, until the sheets were totally soaked underneath you and you’d begged for it; babbling unendingly until he finally fucked you proper and much to your sobbing relief.

Since it looked like he’d won this round, you wondered what he would choose to do to you when next you got together for your little game nights. The thought alone is enough to almost make you squirm in your seat.

“As always you are much too full of yourself, Captain Kaeya. A single night of wins goes straight to your head and further inflates that already oversized ego of yours.”

“Really now, you wound me.” He doesn’t look at all hurt or even very put out as he pulls himself up and leans back into his chair again. Like a perfectly placed prop, his open shirt slides into place to leave only the usual keyhole showing off the coppery brown skin across his pectorals. Not so much as a hint of red in sight anymore. “It was not my intention to leave you wanting and waiting. I’ll pay up, just as we agreed. We can’t have it being said that I don’t keep up my end of a bargain, can we?”

You pin him with a pointed, deliberate look. “I would certainly think you’d care about your reputation enough to do that much.”

Inclining his chin in agreement, Kaeya makes a sweeping gesture toward the back of the tavern. “Then by all means, let’s find somewhere a bit more quiet to continue this conversation.”

Suppressing the urge to smile, you move to stand and he follows suit. The way Kaeya unfolds himself from his chair is something noteworthy, all long legs and perfect stately posture. Some men of his height manage to look gangly or uncoordinated but he is decidedly neither of those. It’s like even at rest he’s so thoroughly perfected the performance that it imbues everything he does right down to the most benign.

You can’t help but wonder how you must look standing together as he comes around the table to flank you. He’s left the pile of mora behind, more than enough to cover the tab and a generous tip on top of that. The owner and sole bartender of the establishment is likely the only person who has any real notion of something going on between the two of you but his silence on the matter was effectively guaranteed. To everyone else it likely just looked like a friendly, casual meeting between two knights. That wasn’t so strange, especially not for someone like Kaeya who enjoyed so much popularity amongst the citizenry. He was on good terms with just about everyone.

You, on the other hand, were much more of an unknown to the general populace. It came with the job description. But no one even gives you a second glance now as you make your way towards the back of the establishment where the secondary exit was located in a cramped little alcove. At a glance it would look like you were leaving to go somewhere else and the curiosity of any nosy eavesdroppers would’ve already been safely satisfied by the exchange at the table. Kaeya wouldn’t have suggested taking leave if he’d even so much as suspected someone was paying more attention to the two of you than simple passing interest, and you were likewise certain that it was safe to make your move for much the same reason.

The rear exit you make your way towards is located directly next to the rickety, well used staircase that leads up to the second floor where the rooms for rent were housed. It was both to give traveling merchants and passing tourists an easy way out so they didn’t have to go all the way to the front, and to ensure an easy traffic flow. You’re pleased to find the coast completely clear despite the late hour, and you take a sharp turn to climb the stairs with Kaeya right on your heels. The weight of his presence just behind you is as comforting as it is full of the velveteen promise of what was yet to come. On one hand you knew you could trust him at your back in the platonic colleague sense. But on the other, much more pressing hand, you also knew you could trust him to give you a night to remember. He always did.

Unfortunately for him — or fortunately, depending on how you wanted to look at it — you were much more interested in blowing his mind tonight. He’d left you feeling punchdrunk and floating in the ether last time and now it was your turn to get a little payback.

You can hardly contain your excitement as you reach the landing and make your way down the row of doors until you reach the last room sequestered in the far corner. Arrangements had been made earlier in the evening when you’d first arrived, when it was still slow and not likely to raise any eyebrows; and the heavy wooden door swings open with a quick turn of the key given to you by the owner. Kaeya lets you enter first then steps in behind you, pulling it shut and locking it again in quick succession. No one would be interrupting you any time soon, barring any unexpected emergencies cropping up at the worst possible time.

“So,” He says, unfalteringly casual about it as he leans back against the shut door. “Regarding the prize I owe you. I can take a guess, I’m sure, but what exactly did you have in mind with this?”

Quickly spinning around, you step into him and close the distance, your body pressing flush to his in one smooth motion. You, impatient? Never. “You’ve already kept me waiting long enough, don’t you think Captain? Let me see you first and then I’ll decide what I’m going to do with you.”

Bringing your hand up, you reach for one side of his shirt and he tips his chin down, attentively watching as you peel it away. You’re afforded a much better look at the brassiere now, the thin lace of the cup stretched over his broad chest in a way that was not dissimilar to that of your own, although it lacked much of the same weight and fullness. His figure was far from feminine but that didn’t make it look any less appealing in your eyes. The color is especially striking against his rich skin tone which surprises you slightly when you were so used to seeing him in his signature blue. Who would’ve guessed.

You pull your attention back up to his face again, brow quirked in question. “What made you go with red?”

The smirk that tugs at his mouth tells you exactly why. “I’m afraid you never specified a color. I just assumed it was up for me to decide and you didn’t particularly care either way.” He puts his head to the side, looking oh so very smug and pleased with himself. “Why, don’t you like it? And I spent so much time picking this out too.”

Trying and failing to conceal your smile, you lower your gaze back to his chest. You can even see the darker bud of his nipple showing through the delicate lacework and it looks undeniably inviting like this, trapped behind a thin layer of fabric yet still in plain sight. Idly, you reach up to tease it with a featherlight brush of your fingertips. Was this just a small taste of what men felt when they were graced with seeing a woman in alluring lingerie? If so then you were certainly starting to understand the fascination.

“Rather than if I like it or not, I think the better question is how did you feel wearing this under your clothes out there? Did it excite you, Kaeya?”

He subtly shifts against you, reaching for your other hand. You let him take it without a fuss and he rather pointedly directs it to the front of his pants. He makes you cup him, curling your fingers around the bulge there, and your next breath comes in a quick little gasp. It was far from completely filled out but he was getting there fast.

“Is this answer enough for you?”

“Oh my,” You relent, sighing softly when he twitches and grows against your fingers. His pants were already so tight you didn’t think his placket would be able to restrain a full erection if you didn’t get them off him soon, and time was clearly ticking. You’d have to move this along but it’s impossible to resist the urge to tease him just a little bit for his eagerness. “You’re always so cool and composed, Captain. I had no idea you were this bothered. I’d have never guessed you were hiding away such an excitable prick in your trousers. How do you manage to make it look so easy?”

“Plenty of practice.”

It’s his turn to step into you now. He casually walks you back, using his greater size and weight to guide you until you’re distantly aware of the waiting bed sitting stationary just behind you. The room is not a very large one but it serves its purpose perfectly well.

Eager to see the rest of him, you bring your hands together to fumble with his belts and then the fastens on the waist cinching band around his middle. Kaeya shrugs out of his capelet with a quick flick of his hand while you work on buckles and latches, the distant rustle of it hitting the floor sending a quick shiver up your spine. Then his fingers come up to touch the underside of your chin and tip your face towards him. You gladly rock forward, going on your toes to accommodate the height difference and accept the kiss he bends to place on your mouth.

Working together, you get him undressed one layer at a time. His corset is quickly discarded, the flouncy white shirt soon joining it followed by the tighter, clinging black top underneath. He looks so good standing there naked from the waist up, in nothing but a bra that had quite clearly been tailored to fit the broad expanse of his chest's width and the fingerless gloves he chooses to leave on for the time being. So good in fact that you almost allow yourself to get distracted. Side tracked with questions and exploratory hands, eager to map out this new take on familiar territory through your sense of touch. But then he moves to kick off his boots, hands already at the waistband of his slacks to make your own excitement ratchet up another notch, and you promptly forget what you’d wanted to do.

Watching him take his pants off is always entertaining in its own right, because his legs are so long and the material so form fitted it takes a bit of shimmying on his part to get them pulled down. This time is even better than usual though, because more and more of the bottom half to the lingerie is revealed the more he peels them away. You're a little surprised when you first glimpse the top of the garter belt, the same shade of red and just as finely made as the brassiere, but you don’t quite have the presence of mind to pretend to be scandalized by it. Not when it was easily one of the most mouth watering sights you’d ever seen.

Kaeya’s waist was already small even without the corset there to keep it in check and the crimson band hugged around it just makes it look even more gracefully svelte. Decidedly grabbable. You couldn’t wait to do just that, your fingers practically itching for it while he steps out of his pants.

The matching panties were, predictably, much too thin and flimsy to properly contain his cock but they do a valiant job trying. This is the only part of him that looks in any way out of place or disheveled so you had to give credit where it was due to whoever had done the tailoring. His balls were half spilling out of one side and his swelling length was tenting the front of the material enough to pull the whole garment askew. But his confidence remains unshaken and he merely reaches down to try and adjust himself without so much as an ounce of shame to show for it, although it does very little in the way of good.

Unable to hold yourself back any longer, you step forward to touch him. Gently lay your hands along his narrow waist and give it a squeeze to bring his attention up. “Don’t worry about it. You look amazing.”

“Please, I don’t look anywhere near as good as you would in this thing.” He laughs, low and sultry, the sound so edged with silken promise it makes your loins curl in anticipation. “I admit I didn’t really understand why you wanted me to dress up like this at first. That’s usually the sort of request a man makes in this kind of arrangement, no? But it’s actually not so bad, other than …”

Rather pointedly, he tries to nudge his testes back into the underwear but of course it doesn’t work. You share another quiet laugh with him, giving Kaeya a wry grin to accompany the finger you suggestively slip into the waistband of his panties.

“Now you know how we feel when you start making unreasonable demands of us. Unfortunately for you, this kind of underwear isn’t really meant to hold anything in.” You give the material a quick tug and let it go so that it lightly smacks back into his hip. “What you need is something with a little more coverage to really hold you in place, Kaeya. Maybe a waist high pair with mesh so you can still show off that pretty cock of yours.”

“Oh,” He breathes out, evidently liking that idea. “I’ll remember to bring you along the next time I decide to go shopping for panties then.”

You can’t seem to keep the smile off your face as you lean into him, dragging your hands up his sides to palm along his ribcage. His skin is so smooth and creamy, you could get lost in just touching him like this for hours on end if only time and duty would permit it. “Promise?”

“Yes, you little pervert.” He murmurs, his tone growing hushed and thin. “I promise.”

Bending at the waist, he kisses you again. Slow and steady even when your hunger clashes with his and doubles the weighty sexual tension in the room to leave both of you all but trembling with pent up need. You have all night though, and you don’t want to rush it. Especially not when he looked so damn good like this. Tall and lean, appropriately muscular in the places one would expect a knight in his prime to be, and yet delightfully petite in others. Kaeya was not an overly large man by any stretch of the imagination but his innate masculinity was undeniable. Even like this, even wearing the sort of lingerie meant to compliment a woman’s figure, to hug curves and emphasize certain assets, there was an air about him that was all man.

Something as simple as lingerie couldn’t take that away from him and, although it perhaps wasn’t quite what the maker had intended, it was most definitely showing off his assets.

Abruptly you realize he’s reaching for the front of your slacks and you pull back from his mouth, giving his fingers a quick, playful swat. “Hey, now. This is my payout from our bet so that means I get to call the shots, right?”

A soft hum of amusement. The knowing twitch at the corner of his mouth that pulls his smirk a little wider. Oh, he knew exactly what he was doing. You should have expected as much from him.

“Of course. Your wish is but my command. I just don’t think it’s very fair that I’m practically naked and you get to keep all your clothes on, that’s all.”

“Hmm, and yet I don’t think that’s dissuading you by the looks of it.” You murmur, sending his straining cock a slow, pointed glance. Was that a tiny wet stain starting to form, bleeding through the lacy material? He was practically begging for it at this point and you were so very eager to give it to him.

Trailing your sights a little lower, you reach down to tauntingly flick at the dangling garter clasp over his toned thigh. Kaeya’s twitching length eagerly flexes behind the thin barrier that tries its best to contain him at the close proximity of your hand, pushing the material further out from his pelvis. You could probably guess why he’d forgone the hose his garter belt should have hooked to but you were still a bit disappointed at their absence. His legs were so long and lean, firm from years spent atop a horse but densely packed with muscle. He would have looked stunning in them.

“Didn’t have enough time to find yourself a pair of stockings, Captain?”

He issues a low, breathy laugh even as he tries to subtly shift his weight from one foot to the other, attempting to angle his cock towards your hand. You’re quick to pull it away though, uninterested in giving him even that simple satisfaction or folding to his needy little demands just yet. Soon, but not yet.

“I thought about it,” He says, obediently stilling again now that it was clear his bid wasn’t going to work. “But I’m unfortunately not half as well versed in these matters as you seem to be giving me credit for. I wasn’t sure what you would like and, more importantly, I didn’t know what would fit properly. There were so many options to choose from and I’d already made quite enough of a spectacle of myself, don’t you think?”

“Did you go to the shop I told you about?” At his nod, you reach out again. Touch fingertips to the tight muscle running up his thigh and lightly draw your nails across it to make his breath come out in a tiny huff. “Then your secret is safe with them. I’d trust that dressmaker with my very life. I’m certain she would have helped you without any judgment or snide remarks.”

“Dully noted.”

You’re obviously distracting him quite a bit but Kaeya still manages to find the wherewithal to drag his attention slowly down your legs, like he was half remembering, half imagining how they would look without your pants in the way. He doesn’t make an attempt at wrestling control from you though, nor does he start throwing his greater weight around even though he very well could. In truth, he is perfectly compliant and malleable for you like this. Those were the parameters of the game, after all, and if there was one thing Kaeya could be trusted with it was his word.

The agreement at the offset of this arrangement was that the winner took all while the loser paid up in full, no questions asked. You’d initially been wary to agree, anticipating him to stack the odds in his favor just so he could play out whatever pigheaded fantasies that seemed to plague the minds of men, but that had not been the case. Not only was he far more inclined towards soft, drawn out encounters of a rather tender persuasion, he was also perfectly amenable to taking orders too and he never cheated. As far as you could tell he really was just the type of person who craved intimacy with another but could only feel truly comfortable with a set of rules in place to give it structure. Almost like … it was almost like he feared giving too much of himself to a lover. Of saying too much, revealing too much.

Playing it out this way would allow him to step back before things got too serious and he crossed a line he either wouldn’t or couldn’t bring himself to cross, as unwilling as he was unable to take that risk and find out what existed just beyond. It gave him the option of temporary companionship without any of the expectations that came with a traditional coupling. Perhaps it would have been sad had it not been exactly the same for you. Glorified spies weren’t exactly famous for their long life expectancies, you know.

Finally deciding to take pity on him, you slide your hand inward and brush a light touch against the darker skin of his ballsack. His chest rises with a quiet hitch, hard nipples cutting up into the material of the bra as his one visible eye takes on a heavy lidded quality. It’s clear he’d been eagerly awaiting your touch and now that he’s got it a stiff edge starts to creep into his posture.

Smiling up at him, you gently tease the weight of his testes where the skimpy underwear can’t quite seem to keep them contained. “It’s a shame I didn’t wear stockings either today, otherwise I could have given them to you. I mean it, Kaeya. You’d look so good in a nice pair of thigh highs.” Still fondling the silky flesh in your hand, you lean up to swipe a quick tongue over one tightly coiled nipple through flimsy lace. His lashes flutter for a brief moment and then he seems to regain his bearings, looking down at you like you hung the very moon and the stars in the night sky. Like he would do anything you could possibly ask of him in that moment. “Not to worry though, Captain. We’ll get you sorted out soon enough. For now though …”

You give his balls a gentle, coaxing tug and he obediently shuffles forward half a step. It’s hard not to grin, seeing the kind of power he lets you hold over him in private like this.

“Why don’t you give me a spin and let me see the back?”

An almost affronted sound bursts out of him, as much a throaty laugh as it is a question at where your thoughts were headed. To his credit he doesn’t protest or act embarrassed about it though, and you simply let your hand slip away from his testicles when he moves to turn around.

You’re not particularly surprised to find that the reverse of the garment is just as skimpy as the front. It’s hardly any wonder that such flimsy underwear can’t hold him in place, and you find yourself giggling as you slip a finger into the thin strip of fabric running between the cheeks of his tight little ass. Although hardly practical in terms of everyday wear, this was in many ways exactly what you’d been hoping for.

“I have to be honest, Kaeya. I half expected you to go for something much more modest and reserved than this. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you belonged in a brothel rather than on top of a horse leading the cavalry to victory.”

“Hah. Do I really seem the shy type to you?” His response is edged in mirth and something much thicker, something that darkens his usually flirtatious tone. A challenge, you think, and it brings yet another smile to your face.

“No, you don’t. Which is precisely why I think you deserve a reward for not disappointing me.”

He starts to draw breath, already formulating a no doubt witty remark on the tip of his silver tongue, but it audibly catches when you curl your finger inward. Find the tight pucker of his hole and just brush against it. The tension running through his body abruptly doubles and then triples, becoming some almost tangible, vibrating thing. You can feel it bleeding into you through the contact even for as brief as it is, and you lightly rub the pad of that digit over his entrance again. Just testing the waters. Seeing how amenable he was to this type of play before you pushed your luck any further.

Evidentially frozen to the spot, Kaeya just stands there for a long, harrowing beat of uncertainty. You’re sure that’s what it must be. But he manages to recover quickly enough, seems to shake off the surprise gripping his lungs. He hesitates and then gingerly pushes back, surprising you more than just a little bit. You’d teased this part of him in passing before but not like this. Not with the suggestion or the context of true penetration involved.

There’s no denying it’s presence now though and your opposite hand instinctively comes up to hook over his shoulder, both to hold him in place and to gently nudge him down on your fingers again.

“Oh, Kaeya,” You breathe out, flicking over his hole with a light back and forth gesture. Back and forth, back and forth, up and then down. “Are you sure you’re ready for this kind of reward?”

“Even if I’m not, I'm certain you’ll prep me for it, won’t you?”

Cheeky. That’s what he is.

Giving his ass one final, lingering pass of your finger, you withdraw completely to grab a pinching tight handful of one cheek and offer it a quick jostle for good measure. “You’re right about that. Why don’t you be a good boy and get on the bed for me?”

A quick, playful swat to his behind gets him in gear. He slowly turns back around to face you with a quiet, throaty laugh and you glance down as he moves to step past you. Something not unlike delight lights up within your chest at the way his cock eagerly bounces within the confines of his panties, the bleeding wet stain obvious now. It was hard to say what, exactly, he was expecting you to do next but he doesn’t question it. Doesn’t get huffy or roll out the masculine grandstanding. Just obediently steps up to the bed so he can climb on top, somehow still so poised and elegant even while wearing women’s lingerie with his balls hanging out of one side. So much so that it looks almost second nature to him, in a way. Yes, a reward was certainly due. He’d be in for a real treat here in a minute.

Thinking back on the last time you’d fooled around and the absolute dripping mess he’d made of you, you decide that payback is indeed a bitch.

“Like this?” He asks, posing like a tawdry slut on his hands and knees with his firm ass in the air. Some men may have looked ridiculous and laughable trying for sultry like that, but Kaeya somehow manages to pull it off. Between the svelte arch of his back, the way his narrow waist gradually tapers up to broad shoulders and the coquettish way he looks back at you, it’s clearer than ever that he knew how to put on a show. Even the heavy weight of his erection dragging at the paper thin garment trying to hold him in isn’t enough to make him look silly or awkward, and it probably would have made you green with envy had you not known with absolute certainty that your stake on him had already been claimed. This wasn’t a competition.

“Not quite what I had in mind but it’ll do.”

Stepping into the space between his feet where they dangle over the edge, you hook your finger into the red fabric running up his ass and tug it aside. His hole is dark and smooth, not unlike his ballsack in its silken appearance, and ever so slightly raised from your earlier minstrations that had only teased the muscle, not tested it. You’re distantly aware of him tensing up as you bend to get closer, opening your mouth to unfurl your tongue, but you don’t pause long enough to allow him a chance at protest.

The first pass over his entrance makes Kaeya jolt like you’d electrocuted him, a tiny sound of startlement escaping his mouth. The second makes him hiss a soft expletive under his breath, and a third has him huffing out the faintest whimper you’ve ever heard. He shifts on top of the bed then, twisting his upper body to look back at you with his uncovered eye. Even from where you’re busy tonguing his asshole, you can clearly make out the fluster dancing across his face and it fills you with warm, fluttering delight.

“I know you’re in charge here but … you don’t have to do that on my account.”

You come up for a fresh breath, pinning him with a saccharine sweet look. “What, you mean like how even when you don’t have to go down on me you do it anyway? Oh, I know. This is just a warm up though so let me have my fun, okay?”

With a quick wink you swoop back down to press the flat of your tongue against his hole, swirling the wrinkled muscle to lathe it in saliva and encourage it to loosen up. He lets out another huffy breath, sounding like he isn’t quite sure what to do with this yet, how to accept it, but he still makes an attempt to relax into the sensation anyway. Resigned to his fate, evidently. Not that he seemed to find it entirely disagreeable, given the way you can see his toes flexing just at the peripheral of your vision, but you strongly suspected this was a first for him.

Good. The less he expected what was coming the more explosive the final results were sure to be. Considering the mess he’d made of you last time he was going to be lucky if you didn’t turn him inside out before the night was through.

Gripping his cheeks with both hands now and holding them spread apart, you lean into your work with renewed enthusiasm. You’re intentionally sloppy with it, letting yourself freely slobber over his hole and taint to ensure he was thoroughly coated before you moved on. This wasn’t something you wanted to rush anyway, far too keen on savoring the taste of him to do that, but with your greater objective in mind you especially wanted to err on the side of caution. One could never be too wet and lubed up, and you were sure Kaeya was going to agree with that by the time you were finished with him.

And he groans so prettily when you dip your tongue into the center of his pucker, just breaching his body, that you have to do it again. And again. Fucking into him like this makes Kaeya twitch and subtly writhe, his breaths coming quicker and shorter as he weakly rolls his hips back to meet you. That he seems to struggle between thrusting out with his cock or riding your tongue with his ass is decidedly charming in its own right, and it only encourages you to keep going. To lap at him more vigorously, to drool more copiously until it feels vaguely like you’re eating out a particularly juicy cunt. It wasn’t often you managed to truly surprise him so you were happy to take advantage of this opportunity while you had it.

Burying your face as far into his ass as you can, you seal your lips around his twitching entrance and gently suckle. Kaeya pulls in a sharp, vaguely frazzled breath in response but still instinctively arches his back to better present himself to you, plainly offering his hole up to your mouth. It may have been a brand new sensation for him, one he didn’t yet know how to process or brace against, but that clearly doesn’t make it any less physically satisfying and that pleases you a great deal.

The previously tight ring of muscle quickly becomes raised and puffy under your attention but you don’t stop until his whimpering groans have turned pitchy with his growing need. That was exactly how you wanted him. Desperate for stimulation that was a bit more substantial, more meaningful, and you finally pull back with a loud, wet smack of your lips some moments later. A quick glance at the sloppy state of his puckered hole has you grinning from ear to ear, and you give Kaeya another quick swat to his raised behind as you straighten up.

“Are you enjoying yourself, Captain? Do you like when I go down on your slutty little ass?”

He quietly seethes, offering you a short lived but no less plaintive shake of his behind. The motion is stiff and halting, like he didn’t want to give in to the urge but couldn’t quite stop himself from doing so. But he immediately grows stills again, panting softly to make his shoulders rise and fall with the quickened inhale-exhales of arousal. “Don’t tell me you really plan on holding out on me if I don’t go along with the ‘slut’ routine …?”

“Of course not. You can tell me to stop at any point and we’ll decide where to go from there. That’s one of our rules, isn’t it?” Failing to keep the mischief out of your voice, you reach between his legs to tug the panties aside in the front too. The weight of his balls seems glad to slide free of their lacy prison and his cock practically springs out, so stiff and leaking sticky precum that he hisses quietly in response. You feel resoundingly victorious as you finally wrap your fingers around that straining, aching length and give it a tauntingly halfhearted tug. Even for as minuscule as the friction is, he still weakly keens like it’s the best thing he’s felt in a very long time. “Just look at you. Do you really feel like anything other than a slut right now? Dressed like this and with your ass in the air … be honest, Kaeya.”

The way his cock jumps in your hand and dribbles more beading clear fluid from the tip is answer enough. He could have kept his silence and it wouldn’t have made any difference to you.

But your words hit their intended target straight on, and he gives a wholly unintentional jolt that makes the bed quietly creak. Perhaps embarrassed by his subconscious reaction or unbearably turned on by it, Kaeya groans low in his throat and presses his face into the bedding to muffle his response. “Do you seriously need to ask? You know I do … but you just want to hear me say it, isn’t that right?”

“You got it. Remember all those filthy things you made me say the last time we were together?”

His head suddenly comes up, a disbelieving guffaw punching out of him. “Is that what this is? Revenge?”

“Something like that.” You shrug your shoulders, as innocent as can be when he twists around to look back at you again. “I just like to think that all is fair in love and war, I guess. You started it and now I’m rebalancing the playing field so to speak. That and … I do so enjoy seeing you on your hands and knees, you know.”

Kaeya’s expression turns wry at that but he doesn’t immediately snap back with some cute little remark. Instead he seems to think about it for a quick moment and then, surprising you and delighting you in equal measure, he suddenly smirks like he’s just realized he’s holding a winning hand. “Fine. I’m certainly not opposed to being on the receiving end, as I’m sure you’ve noticed by now. Do your worst. Let’s see if you can make me say it.”

That initial feeling of pleased bewilderment quickly vanishes, replaced by a simmering heat low in your gut as you mirror the look on his face with a sly grin of your own. “Is that how you want to play it? Gonna’ be a little brat for me?”

“Only if you think you can handle it.”

“Smart ass.” Suppressing the urge to laugh, you pull back from him and straighten up with another sound slap across his upturned cheek. “Get on your back for me. Let’s see how long you can keep up that attitude.”

“Oooh, I like where this is going.”

It takes everything you have no to roll your eyes at his obvious wheedling while he gets turned over. Clearly he thought he could out maneuver you, somehow, if he just held onto his usual mask of sauve surety for long enough but you were sure you could rip it away from him with relative ease. For better or worse, not many men could keep their wits about them when faced with what you had in mind for him.

Ignoring his pointed, haughty looks of challenge, you take a moment to disrobe down to your underwear so that the both of you were in a similar state of undress. Mainly because it was getting a bit warm in the cramped, stuffy room and also because it would make getting situated together that much smoother.

You finally join him on the bed another moment later and Kaeya keenly watches as you crawl closer, smiling like the cat that ate the canary when you move to kneel between his legs. He was so sure of himself. So confident. That wasn’t going to do him much good in the long run though, and you take a moment to get comfortable before reaching out to palm along his strong calves.

His cock had started to gradually flag in the interim, resting across his lower belly now, but you could tell it was just one caress away from springing right back to life again. All that pent up need to cum was going to be his undoing.

“I’m waiting.” He drawls, idly toying with a long strand of his hair. “After the way you were talking, I expected - -“

Hunching over his pelvis, you lean down to lick a sudden, wet stripe up the underside of his cock. Whatever he’d wanted to say lodges in his throat with a hardly dignified grunt, his uncovered eye widening in obvious surprise as satisfaction lights up within your chest like a smoldering ember. He looked a bit startled, and a lot disarmed. The fact he hadn’t expected that either, that you’d managed to catch him off guard twice now is nothing short of gratifying, and you were ready to bat for three.

Quickly, you swivel your attention back down before he has a chance to find his bearings. Open your mouth to flick at his glans with your tongue where it peeks out from behind the stretch of his foreskin. A strangled sound rises deep in his chest while his cock jumps to immediate attention, flexing up off his stomach for a brief moment before slapping back down with a meaty noise. He fitfully shifts atop the creaking bed and then tucks his chin against his chest to look down at you, his hips arching off the sheets in needy supplication.

It’s a delicious sight to behold; the usually confident and suave Captain of the Cavalry so hot with need it had him antsy under your attention. You decide to take pity on him for the moment and lean down again, catching the flushed head of him between your lips so you can suck on it while you bring a hand around to grip at the base. You make sure to do everything quick and without warning so he doesn’t have a chance to brace himself for it, and he rewards you very handsomely for your efforts.

Kaeya outright grunts like you’ve just sucker punched him, seething through tightly clenched teeth. Twists his balled up fists in the bedding and allows his head to fall back, moaning gruffly up at the ceiling while his stomach dramatically flexes at the abrupt sensation of a hot, wet mouth around his cock. You greatly enjoyed seeing him like this. Worked up enough for his sensitivity to be heightened but still so unaware of what you were building up to, what you were planning.

It makes it incredibly easy to crowd your other hand close to your face so you can coat the fingers in spit, idly pumping his length in the absence of your tongue and lips. He doesn’t question it. Doesn’t even seem to notice. You feel downright devilish as you lean down to take him a third of the way into your mouth again, just short of brushing the back of your throat, and slip your now sticky digits between his legs. At the first tentative touch to his hole Kaeya chokes on another undignified sound but quickly bites it back. Wrestles it under control. You can tell it’s a struggle for him though, and you were more certain than ever that he wasn’t accustomed to being touched like this. It really was a brand new experience for him.

“Don’t tense up,” You murmur, coming off his cock just enough to speak. “It’ll feel good, I promise. I’m not going to hurt you. Just trust me, okay?”

He tries to laugh it off but it doesn’t quite come out sounding very calm or casual. “Trust isn’t the issue. Telling me not to tense up … now that is a tall order.”

“You told me to do my worst.” You lightly remind him.

“And I stand by that.” Drawing a slow, deep breath that makes his hole subtly flex under your fingertips, he releases it with a drawn out exhale. Carefully inches his long legs a little further apart to give you more space, better access, in a clear display of submission and acceptance. “Do it. I’m not going to stop you.”

“That sounds rather fatalistic, don’t you think?” Gently, you rub your fingers over his hole again. It was still wet with saliva and puffy from before, the center puckered enough that you could feel the skin start to give way under the slow pass of your ministrations. If you’d planned on using anything much bigger than this you would have needed real lube. He was just too tight and unstretched to accommodate much else without the proper prep. But for a finger or two, this should be fine.

Perhaps sensing your train of thought, he shifts again and peers down at you. His gaze is heavy and distant, and you think he’s probably blushing right up to his ears under the dark complexion of his skin as he carefully curls one leg up to better present his entrance to you. “I’m not trying to be a martyr. If you say it will feel good then I believe you, just … take it slow, okay?”

You weren’t used to seeing him express any kind of doubt or uncertainty like this, and you offer him a warm smile in return. Curl your fingers to find the center of his hole and just prod into it, teasing the slackening muscle with the suggestion. His mouth parts as if to groan or perhaps sigh, but nothing comes out, like he can’t quite find the oxygen to do either. “I will. Just take some deep breaths and try to relax your body into it. If you don’t like it just tell me and we’ll stop.”

He nods once, clearly distracted by what you were doing with your hand. That was as good a sign as any in your eyes so you give a little push that sinks the tip of the middle digit into him. It wasn’t true penetration yet but it’s enough for you to feel the intense heat of his guts and how the muscle tries to clench at the pressure. Pausing there, you give your finger a careful wriggle to coax his hole into opening up more for you. You can feel him trying to brace against it, to hold himself in check, and his raised leg visibly falters in the air as a result.

Quickly releasing your hold on his length, you reach up to grab his ankle and guide it over your shoulder. He hesitates, almost seems to want to fight it at first and then allows his leg to slide into place with a stiff, almost whiny hiss. He wasn’t used to this, you remind yourself as you give his calf a brief squeeze of reassurance. Kaeya was typically more accustomed to being the instigator, not the one at someone else’s mercy. All of your previous wins had been cashed in with relatively tame asks. You’d sat on his face multiple times now, though you suspected that was as much a treat for him as it was for you. In truth he’d gone down on you more times than you could count and on more than one occasion had even stuffed his thumb into your ass upon request while he took you from behind. The most daring thing you’d asked of him thus far had been to ride him out on the shoreline beaches of Cider Lake in the dead of night and he’d certainly fulfilled that fantasy with star glitter results.

But the current situation saw you firmly in control and it took all the power away from him, leaving his usual cool nothing more than a distant memory. He holds himself so stiffly there on top of the bed that you can see the thick bands of muscle across his chest bulging under the skin, his lean stomach so tensed it almost looks concave from this angle. At the subtle wriggle of your finger Kaeya haltingly twists his upper body against the sheets, leaving them in a wrinkled ruin, but his lower half remains almost stock still. Like he didn’t trust himself to move just yet when he had no idea what was truly coming.

All the better, really. You could take pity on him if you’d wanted but he hadn’t shown any of that restraint the last time when he’d reduced you to a babbling, squirting mess. If you could do the same to him, you’d consider this a resounding victory.

“Relax, Kaeya,” You breathe out, and his cock eagerly flexes up off his stomach again at the cool waft of air. “I promise you’ll like this.”

A small, throaty whimper is the only answer you get but it’s as close to acquiescence as you’re likely to get.

Holding the breath in your lungs, you carefully start to push deeper into him. The resistance of his body is unmistakable but the right amount of pressure applied to the very center of his sphincter soon has you slipping in past that initial barrier. His entire frame shakes with the haggard, threadbare gasp he sucks in before going so completely still you can’t be sure if he’s still breathing or not even as the constricting heat of his guts fully envelops your digit. Gentle yet insistent, you keep going until you can feel the puffed up rim of his asshole pressing against your knuckle. It’s only then that you pause, just letting the simple penetration sink in and for him to adjust to it as you dip your face close to his pelvis again.

“Take a deep breath, good boy. For me?” You murmur, lips brushing over the curve of one testicle.

He immediately draws another quick, flustered exhale; the noise catching in his throat with a low choking sound. His cock springs up with it and strains skyward, lurching so powerfully it smacks against your cheek with a small meaty slap.

You laugh, unable to help it, and that seems to dislodge the tortured groan he’s been valiantly fighting back this entire time. It bursts out of him with a suddenness that would have startled you had you not been fully aware of how enthusiastically his inner sleeve was clenching around you in sporadic pulses. Like he was torn between tensing up or relaxing into it, and the end result all but has him milking himself on your finger.

Heady with that knowledge, you bring your head up and wrap your lips around the tip of his cock, pulling it in deep. Kaeya lets out a broken little sob, once again twisting in the bedding while his leg uselessly flexes over your shoulder. He’s usually much more in control than this, and you’re exceedingly glad that you chose to do it in this position because it allows you to glance up the length of his pulled taut body and look at his face. His pinched expression is one of ruin and desperation, his fluster as plain as day.

You’d never seen him look quite like that before and you drink it in, committing it all to memory while you flick your tongue over his satiny slit to lick up all the bitter precum leaking out of him. The deep furrow of his brows leaves a small wrinkle between them, further highlighted by the light sheen of sweat starting to form along his skin. His teeth clench tight when he swallows hard, making his jaw powerfully flex, and then his mouth warbles back open again to let loose the faintest, faltering groan you’ve ever heard. He seems to be torn between looking down at you, watching what you were doing, and fixing his hazy attention on the ceiling overhead. It has him fitfully squirming, his knee bumping your arm when it squeezes inward to accompany the deep clench of his innards.

Content to leave it at that and just watch him, you don’t think to proceed any farther. But then he manages to surprise you this time when he finally tucks his chin to his chest and peers down at you with an imploring look so unspeakably needy it makes your heart skip a beat.

“Please,” He breathes out. So hushed and quiet you almost miss it despite the close proximity and the total lack of any other noise, save the distant sounds of the tavern in full swing down below. “Need to cum ...”

Oh.

Suddenly feeling ten degrees hotter, you give his cock one last lingering suck and pull off. It twitches in the absence of your mouth and strains after you, his pelvis needily lifting, but you just pin him with a slow simmering smile to still him again. “Do you now?”

At his terse nod, you draw a deliberate breath that makes his thighs eagerly tense up in anticipation.

“Are you going to say it?”

Kaeya’s thin attempt at laughter bounces off the walls, so transparent it wouldn’t have taken a genius to figure out he was trying to bluff. Trying and failing. “You really want to hear me say it that badly?”

“I’d enjoy it but I have no intention of withholding from you if you don’t. It’s just part of the game, that's all. But more importantly,” You pause to give your finger another wriggle inside him, and he outright chokes on the sensation. Feeling quite pleased with yourself, you slowly curl that digit upward to feel along his inner wall in search of the tight cluster of nerves that would have him seeing stars. “Let’s find that sweet spot of yours, hm?”

A low, gravelly moan rattles inside his chest as you poke and prod at him, massaging his interior with gentle insistence until you locate the telltale mass nestled just on the other side. It’s no bigger than a walnut but he gives a full bodied shudder the second you put any amount of pressure on it, and your pussy clenches in sympathetic excitement when he stiffens up. His mouth hinging open in surprise as much as deeply felt pleasure, Kaeya issues a half strangled mewl into the statically charged room, noticeably higher in octave than usual and raspy. It sounds heavenly to your ears.

“Aaahhn - -“

“Ooh, there it is. And so sensitive too. I’ve barely even touched it yet and you’re already …”

Gaze dropping, you watch his cock wildly flex as yet more creamy discharge bubbles up out of the slit. It gathers so quickly, and in such a thick concentration, that when you idly press up on his prostate again it flings right off at the sudden jolt of his achingly stiff length. The nearly translucent fluid stands out against his complexion where it splatters on his stomach and you have to make a conscious effort to stop yourself from chasing after it with your tongue. This was somehow even better than you’d imagined it would be.

“Do you like that, Kaeya?”

He tries to speak, croaks out something unintelligible, and has to pause to clear his throat once, twice, before trying again. “Mm’not sure yet but …”

“But?”

“Please do it again.”

You grin from ear to ear, delighting in doing just that but with added pressure this time. Where your first few brushes against that tight little cluster had been soft and coaxing, you now curl the pad of your finger directly into it and massage it with steady strokes. Kaeya reacts like you’d given him a shock of electro, his entire body heaving and locking up in sudden tension that is at complete odds with the way his cock impotently jerks through the air like it’s got a mind of its own now. And he just keeps leaking a near constant stream of sticky precum that seems to bubble up quicker every time you rub against his prostate. It beads and gathers at the tip before dribbling off the next time his length flexes and you aptly watch as it falls, leaving a glistening thread trailing down to his stomach where it lands not far from the first.

It becomes increasingly more difficult for you to keep your own urges in check as you watch him wheeze through it, overwhelmed by the intense pleasure and yet unwilling — or unable? — to shy away from what you were doing to him. He certainly could have if he’d wanted to. Kaeya was not only twice your size but double your strength too. If he really deemed it to be too much for him to take anymore, he could have all too easily put a stop to it one way or another.

Instead, he gasps like his soul is actively trying to leave his body and writhes stiffly before — slowly hiking his other leg up to curl it around you. It suddenly feels like your chest is constricting too tight for you to breathe, and it’s only a subconscious reaction that has you nudging your arm down so he can hook his knee over it much the same as the first. You don’t give it any deeper thought than that. You can’t, not when it was as if your brain was flatlining and all you could think to do is accommodate him. If he wanted to do this with his legs in the air like a proper slut then that was what he would have.

And surely no one could fault you for that when it was by far one of the hottest things you’d ever been lucky enough to have a front row seat for. You felt like you were going to explode and your neglected cunt hadn’t even been touched yet.

“Nnghhn, that’s … oh, that’s good. Unexpected but — good.” He sounds incredibly winded, like he’d just returned from running all the way out to Dragonspine and back without taking a break anywhere in between. The damp quality of his skin gives the same impression where it was making some of his dark hair stick to his temple and cheeks in a few spots of gathering perspiration.

Truth be told Kaeya already looked wrecked beyond repair but you wanted to ruin him even more. How could you not when he was so devastatingly gorgeous and all yours for the taking?

“You really like it? You’re such a good boy for me, y’know that. I really wanted you to enjoy this.”

“I am,” He grits out with no shortage of effort, his narrow hips juddering slightly in their elevated position. You’re even more glad for your foresight now because it makes it all the easier for you to adjust the angle of your finger when his pelvis is up off the bed and you attack his prostate with renewed vigor now, earning yourself another tortured moan. “Ohh! Ahn … please. Need to cum!”

“Then cum for me, Kaeya. I’m not going to stop fingering your ass until you do.”

The sound that bursts out of him is downright wounded, guttural and keening. Whiny, almost. He writhes so uncontrollably you can tell he’s getting dangerously close and the excited quiver of his guts only serves to further solidly that impression. You know it’s only a matter of moments now and your pulse skyrockets as he blindly reaches up to squeeze at his own chest through the lacy cups of the bra. His dark nipples cut up into the fabric, as stiff as can be and begging for friction. It’s almost too much for you to bear but you persistently keep going even when your wrist starts to cramp from the constant flexing and the tight angle. If you’d had the time for it you probably would have tried to worm a second finger into the tight heat of his squeezing passage but it was already much too late for that.

His breaths coming in quicker, shorter bursts, Kaeya tips his face down to look at himself. The red lace stretched across his pectorals and around his waist, flimsy panties pulled aside and away from his bobbing cock while he’s got his long legs draped over your shoulders. The sight seems to surprise a faltering groan out of him, and he struggles to keep his eye open and trained on you when his expression pinches tight.

“Burn everything, I’m going to cum. I’m cumming. Yes, yes, yesssss, aghhn, keep fucking my s - slutty ass until I — I - -“

His head suddenly falls back against the bed, viciously seething up at the ceiling while his cock gives its most violent jerk yet. Ropes of thick, milky semen shoot out of the slit in an abrupt eruption that almost manages to catch you off guard. The weight of him pendulously swings with the sheer force of his ejaculation, sending it back towards you just in time for the next pulse to catch you across the chest. Your mouth drops open but nothing comes out. Not even so much as a peep.

Making the impulsive decision to put it to good work anyway, you quickly swoop down and catch the head of him between your lips with mere seconds to spare. The third jet of potent discharge shoots off at the back of your throat and your eyes roll back in fluttering bliss at the same time Kaeya cries out in deeply frazzled distress. The way he clenches, so fervent and tight he feels like a livewire on the brink of snapping, makes it apparent that he hadn’t expected to find himself cumming directly into your mouth. That pleases you a great deal too, especially when it seems to elongate his pleasure. Drags it out with yet another roiling heave that sends more bitter semen squirting down your gullet.

He doesn’t have anything else left to give after that though, and further pressure on his prostate just coaxes out a thin, watery discharge that tastes of potent salt on your tongue. You groan low in your chest at the bitter flavor even as you dutifully swallow it down where it can settle hot and heavy in your gut. Kaeya just hisses like an incensed wildcat at the overstimulation before finally making an attempt to shirk away from it, sensitively curling his lower half inward.

Letting go of him immediately, you watch his cock swing forward with an accompanying thread of glistening spittle stretched between your mouth and the glans. It stays upright for a short beat or two before swooning down towards his stomach when it quickly starts to soften in it’s thoroughly spent state. You give your lips a quick lick to rid them of any lingering spit and turn your attention up at his face, leaving your finger wedged inside for the moment but angled away from that sensitive bundle along his upper wall to give him a moments reprieve.

He’s got his head turned away and hidden behind an arm carelessly tossed over his eyes, still trying to calm his erratic breaths. You give him another minute or two, then reach up with your unoccupied hand to rub over his belly in comforting circles while actively trying to avoid the goopy mess he’s made all over himself. “Are you alright, Captain? Is there anything I can get for you?”

“Yeah.” He barks out a short, mirthless laugh as he stirs, working to unhook his long legs from you with cautiously slow movements. “You can take your panties off and get over here. I think I owe you a little payback of my own after that.”

Your pussy gives a muted throb of excitement, but you don’t immediately jump at the chance to do as he’d asked. Both because you wanted to check in on him first without getting distracted and because you were still lodged inside him up to the knuckle. Suddenly pulling out might come as a shock if he wasn’t ready for it.

“There will be time for that later,” You remind him gently. “I think we should talk about you first. How do you feel?”

Finally moving his arm, Kaeya looks down at you with a sardonically lifted brow. “You can’t be serious. You really need to ask? Just look at exhibit A.” He gestures meaningfully at the sticky discharge splattered across his front, making you take note of the goopy stains on the band of his garter belt for the first time. He certainly had cum a lot, hadn’t he? “Never mind that I just had one of the most intense orgasms of my life and it’s going to take me longer than usual to bounce back from it. Need I also remind you that you got me to say what you were fishing for earlier?”

You can’t quite stop yourself from grinning at the memory. “You sure did. I’d almost given up.”

“You know I don’t like to disappoint.” A smirk tugs at his mouth but it quickly vanishes when he tucks his knees upward, opening himself up to you and giving you a picture perfect shot of your finger crammed in his ass up to the hilt. Oh, if only you had a kamera on hand.

“Can you, uh …”

“Of course. Just relax the muscles as much as you can and try not to clench.” With that, you gently start to ease your hand back. Despite your helpful suggestion his interior still tries to cling to you on the way out and Kaeya seethes at the sensation. It doesn’t escape your notice that he actively refuses to look at you during this process but you couldn’t really hold that against him. Some men became cripplingly shy and embarrassed once the heat of the moment has worn off, others got angry at themselves for enjoying it so much.

Kaeya didn’t seem to be either embarrassed or angry though. If anything, he almost struck you as … vulnerable in that moment. Like he was confident enough in his own masculinity, his own ego, not to let something like this rattle him. Rather you’d seen another side of him tonight that you were unfamiliar with and he was — uncertain how you would react?

Could that really be it though?

Curiosity lights up the back of your mind in stunning high definition. You’re already forming the question on the tip of your tongue as your finger pops free and he groans very faintly, wincing at the loss. But youre quick to lean over him before he can turn away onto his side, getting right in his face so he has no choice but to look up at you.

“Kaeya, do you - -“

He abruptly pushes up, catching your lips and silencing you in one fell swoop. You issue a soft sound of surprise against his mouth but he just swallows the sound, kissing you so heatedly you can’t fight being coaxed into the motion. Giving in with a stilted sigh, you half melt into the exchange and kiss him back with your own hunger, your own need reflected in the hard press of your mouth against his.

When he finally pulls away a long moment later, he’s effectively stolen your breath and almost made you forget what you were going to ask. Almost, but not quite.

“You should know by now I’m not so easily distracted.” You pant, pinning him with a mock rueful look.

“Oh trust me, I do. It’s one of the many things I like about you, if I’m being honest.” He murmurs back, his tone low and hushed yet once again colored with silken promise. It almost comes as more of a surprise than the kiss had, how quickly he could rebuild his walls and put the mask back on. At your look of confusion, though, he just offers up a sly little grin. “It wasn’t actually meant to distract you. We can talk about it later. Promise. For right now though, I think the far more pressing matter is seeing if I can make you cum half as hard as I just did. That only seems like a fair exchange, doesn’t it?”

“You’re hopeless.” You sigh out, even as your nipples harden painfully fast against the interior of your bra at the simple suggestion. You wanted to feel his touch there, between your legs, everywhere and all at once. This arrangement was fun and games on the surface but deep inside there was something else brewing, taking hold of you and growing. Would he be as amenable to that as he’d been with this kind of play?

You’re not so sure when his own vulnerability was already such a touchy subject to broach but the way he leans up to press a tender kiss against your lips seems to suggest that maybe, just maybe, it was the same for him too. He was scared. You were scared. Perhaps the two of you could be scared together.

“I can see the wheels turning in that head of yours.” He teases, and the resulting warm caress of his breath against your skin makes you shudder. A pleased look crosses Kaeya’s face as he reaches a hand up to palm along your waist, your hip and finally down into the waistband of your underwear so he can possessively smooth it over the curve over your ass. “Stop thinking about it so hard. We’ll sort it out soon enough, once I’ve taken care of that sweet little pussy for you. Surely you wouldn’t rather I leave you high and dry?”

It’s a frustratingly easy question to answer. “No, I wouldn’t.”

“That’s what I thought.” Chuckling, he gives you a tight, lingering squeeze that makes your breath catch. “Let’s get these panties off then. I have a few ideas I want to try out on you now that it’s my turn. I wonder how loud I’ll be able to make you scream this time.”

⭐

Crossposted: here

#genshin impact #kaeya alberich #kaeya x reader #self insert bullshit

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korpuskat · 1 year

Text

Eleven Years - Ch1

[Ao3 Mirror] Pairing: Ramattra/Reader (Gender Neutral) Rating: T (this chapter, Explicit future chapters) WC: 1,530 Warnings: Kidnapping; future Stockholm Syndrome, imprisonment, isolation, manipulation, extreme dubcon, & mind break.

You’ve dreamed of his faceplate so many times. A little pyramid of red lights, the harsh angle of his optics' slit, the strong shape of his jaw piece. Never like this- never how other people saw him. Because outside, gunfire echoes down alleyways, screams and the heavy, metallic noises of an inhuman army march down through your city. You’re stuck, feet glued to the floor as you stare death itself down. Adrenaline makes your heartbeat surge. You should be running- or begging or anything else than trembling, holding yourself in fear that you’ll fly apart at the seams.

And in your quaint little living room all you can think of is he’s changed his paint. Gone is the warm gold, the orange, tattered robes you’d mended a dozen times over. No, now he’s all stark white and brilliant purple and lightless black. It’d be a good look for him, if it wasn’t identical to the bots on every news station. Null Sector. He's joined up with Null Sector.

He steps closer- and you can’t even bring yourself to step back. He says your name like a breath, like a prayer- and he still tips his head the same way when he’s curious, hopeful. It makes your chest hurt, brings thousand memories back all at once and you don't want them at all. It’s been a decade since you’ve seen him. To see him here, like this? A cruel joke by your subconscious, after so much longing. It’s a nightmare. It has to be.

But his fingers are cool and smooth and well-oiled, fluid in how they raise to your face. Like they used to. Like he has any right at all to touch you- and his hands cup your jaw, thumbs pressed into your cheeks as he leans down to you. His array touches your forehead and you gasp, pulling so slightly away. He immediately follows, tips of his fingers tucking below your ears to pull you back to him.

He feels so real.

“Ramattra?” His name has spent nights on your tongue, a wish and secret kept only for yourself. To speak it again to anyone is some kind of taboo. Forbidden, even to him.

“It’s me,” He purrs, sighs. Your voice alone makes him want to melt into you, but to hear you say his name… How did he make it so long without you? “I’ve missed you so much.”

“What are you…” You blink, stare at him as best you can with him so close. “What are you doing here? It’s- it’s not safe.”

He leans away, just enough to see all of you again. You’ve changed so much, and yet so little. You’re as stunning as the last time he saw you, perhaps more. But your eyes are wide and wet, brow arched high in fear and shock. He trails one finger over it, feels the hair that grows there, wonders at the expressiveness of your face. He doesn’t like this look, doesn’t like how you tremble away from his touches.

“I’m freeing the Omnics here. You don’t have to worry, I’ll protect you.”

You knew- must’ve always known since that broadcast went out. There’s so few R-7000s left, no one else with his voice. “You- you're the leader.”

The way you say it makes his pistons itch. It’s an accusation and betrayal and a plea to be wrong all wrapped together. You pull away again when he touches your lips. Ramattra curls his hand behind your neck, keeps you close as he traces your mouth. He’s missed you so much, but your face makes him think of a fox in a snare. He wants to reach out to you, to free you from whatever has laced this fear through your heart.

“I told you I would find a way to protect my people. It may be shocking, but this is the only way. Come, we can talk more on my ship.” He trails a hand down your arm, tugging softly at your wrist, urging you to follow. He hopes you’ll entwine your fingers.

You don’t.

You don’t even move, arm hanging as dead weight between your bodies. “Your ship?” You echo, stare at him. “No, no, I’m not going anywhere.” The adrenaline finally starts doing something. “Ramattra this is- it’s insane. You’re hurting people, omnics!”

“I’m saving them, it’s for their own good.“ He bites back. This isn’t how he wanted this to go. He isn’t foolish enough to think you’d have met him with open arms and tears, but this? He can’t yell. He won’t. He’s waited too long to find you and we will not lose this moment to his own temper. He won’t. “We can discuss this later, we must leave now.”

He grips higher up on your arm, leads you more urgently-

”Don’t touch me,” You hiss, twisting out of his grasp. He lets you go, lets you take two steps away, further into the dark of your home.

“I won’t.” Ramattra promises. Agonizing as it is to have felt your skin again, he can wait a little longer. He won't ruin this, not like last time. “But in twenty minutes a Titan will raze this city to the ground. I will not let you be part of its ashes.”

Tears burn at your eyes. How can this be the same person? Every part of you trembles, shivers of fear and adrenaline-fueled twitches. It’s too late to run now. You don’t think he’s lying, have no reason to doubt that he does truly plan on reducing your entire city to rubble.

“Please.” His voice is so soft. If you just close your eyes it’s like the dream that comes to you every week or so. All the same pleading words he’d spoken to you that day. Warped, cracked with another spit of a rifle’s muzzle, somewhere in the streets beyond. Never once did you think it would end like this.

He hardly speaks his entire hurried escort back. A half-murmured “Careful,” as he guides you to step into his shuttle. You pointedly do not take his offered hand and it falls as you pass by him. A long time ago that would’ve hurt, to see the dejected dip of his head- but not now. You won't even give him your sympathy or guilt. He moves to the controls, keeps his back to you as you instead stare out the window.

The craft shudders as it lifts off- and all around you is fire and chaos and white and purple enamel. You wrap your arms around yourself and sink into a seat. Years, years spent waiting… You look to him again, wishing for him to suddenly be gone, to have someone else, anyone else be there. But it’s not. It’s him. The same cabled hair, a symbol of the Iris threaded onto his cloak, his voice. His hands, large but nimble as he flits across levers and buttons and switches. You'd held them- and a phantom sensation surrounds your palm, like cool metal plates and the careful curl of his joints.

The shuttle lands in a hangar bay without incident- and once more he’s extending a hand, leading you onward. Once more, you deny him.

You’d seen the command ships on the news- but as soon as you look around the inside the blood drains from your face. You waver on your feet as you stare up and up and up. It’s massive- the numbers cited by numbed-out reporters are meaningless compared to the actual shape of the bay you’ve stepped into. All around are tucked-up pods, ready to deploy as soon as the command is given, scaling up onto the walls, dozens, hundreds. So many, how does he have so many-

“Come,” He steps in front of you, forces you to focus back onto him, off what he’s done, what he’s made. So you follow, letting the numbness creep into you too because how can it not? You’re in the belly of one of a dozen warships, the size of which no one has ever seen before, surrounded by an army larger than- than-

A door opens before you.

It’s not more empty gray halls- it’s… a room. An actual room. A large bed, nightstands, a vanity. Decorated, even- a little comb, a notebook. You wander further in, touch the comforter that’s spread over the bed. It’s soft, golden and brown, like his cowl. Like the blanket he kept in his room for you. A little door off to the side, left just open enough for you to spy what’s probably a bathroom inside. Your heart sinks. These are all things a human needs… and omnics don’t.

He prepared this room for you long before today. This isn't an impromptu decision, driven only by his evolving warpath. He's planned this.

Your throat is dry, words hollow in your own ears. “How long will you keep me here?”

His feet click on the metal floor as he steps closer. You don’t look at him, pinch your eyes closed as his hand raises up to your face. So delicately he draws a strand of hair behind your ear, strokes along your neck for only a moment. “Until it’s safe.”

[Chapter 2]

#ramattra #ramattra x reader #ramattra x you #overwatch x reader #overwatch x you #yandere ramattra #yandere #kidnapping #dubcon /#noncon /#<-- not in this chapter but so people who have it filtered wont see this #ramattra kidnapping au

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chiefbeifongcanrailme · 11 months

Text

Mission Accomplished

Here’s my submission for day 2 of Lin Beifong’s Week. You can also find it on AO3.

Pairing: Lin Beifong x Mako

Rating: T

Art made by JadeLotus💚

The last time he had checked the time, it was back in the precinct, and it was midnight then. There was no knowing what time it was now. When it came to waiting, one could never tell if hours had gone by a mere few seconds. Impatience was becoming of Mako in the same way hunger was for Bolin; all bets were off. There was no telling what either brother would do under those dire circumstances.

Lin on the other hand was infuriatingly patient. She had this knack for staring at the same spot for minutes without screaming at the nothingness.

“Chief,” Mako said, clearing his throat. “What if they gave us a false lead?”

“My source is very reliable,” she said without turning around.

The smell was starting to get too him too now. There was a thin slit between the dumpster and the concrete wall of the alley through which Lin was spying on the warehouse across the street. They were well hidden in the shadows of demolition and that giant, odor-laden container of indefinite squalor.

“Who is your source?”

Lin grumbled something incoherent in response.

Great, so this was getting to her too.

“Should we maybe leave? I don’t think anybody’s going to show up—”

“Shut it, Mako!” she growled, still not facing him.

“I just mean, it’s pretty late and—”

“And night time scares you?”

“What- no!”

“Then zip it and let me focus,” she said.

Mako sighed and moved towards her. He crouched down beside her even though there was no way he’d be able to see through that little slit without fully invading her personal space. He had binoculars too, but what good were they without a view?

So instead, he watched Lin. He considered her carefully. She was a lot smaller without her uniform, and that incited a sense of protectiveness in him. His mind began wandering. He wondered he’d do if Lin was attacked without her armor. If she was hurt and how she wouldn’t stop fighting until her last breath. She had that grit in her eyes. That tenacity in her frame. Her face would contort into her signature scowl- which now that he thought about- was cutesy pout without her armor.

He shook his head. No, Lin wasn’t cute. That wasn’t a word anyone would use to describe Lin Beifong. But somehow, at the core of Mako’s impatience, he found that 'cute' suited her just fine. He smiled to himself as he continued watching her. He pondered on the idea that Lin Beifong was cute and he would want to protect her at all costs. Possibly even wrap his arms around her to hold her safely.

So, when Chief Beifong turned around to see Mako with a cheeky smile spread across his face looking like he hadn’t experienced a thought in his whole life, she actually groaned. She rolled her eyes and turned back to watch the static warehouse.

Mako moved closer, and Lin could feel his presence against her side. He swallowed. He was growing more and more impatient and those fleeting thoughts about Lin weren’t helping his resolve. He needed to do something. Something about the bust or something about the tingling in his belly at the sight of his boss.

He wasn’t sure which one was going to combat, but he began anyway. “Chief, do—”

“Shhh!” she hushed him. “I see movement.”

Mako leaned over her, worming into her personal space and choosing to circle back to his feelings about that later. He saw three people exit the warehouse and he recognized them immediately. Iceman Wahkan, known for his ice blade attacks, Agni Kai leader, Zinji and Jargala Omo, the leader of the Creeping Crystal Triad. It was odd that these three were having a meeting but having worked with triads before, Mako knew that they were likely coming to some kind of understanding; territorial or so.

“What do we do now?” he asked.

Lin didn’t reply. Mako surmised that she was probably going to try and take them down herself. Typical Chief Lin Beifong.

“They’ll recognize us just as easily as we recognized them,” he said, standing up a touch. “We need to call for back up. There’s a good chance they’re not alone.”

“Shh!” she yelled softly, yanking him by his hand back down to the ground. She held his hand first, technically, Mako thought. Her hand was still loosely touching his but it was only because he stiffened his palm within hers, so they’d still be touching until she consciously moved her hand away.

“They’re crossing the road,” Lin narrated what she was seeing. Of course, she had paid no mind to Mako’s skin still touching hers. As she put on her coat over her black tunic, she snatched the binoculars from Mako’s other hand.

“There's something in here. They’re entering this building to leave the city through the swamp behind,” she said, unaware of Mako’s eyes on her. The back door of this building was beside the dumpster, right where they were standing.

Mako and Lin were caught right in the middle of their exit scheme. The only thing worse than not catching criminals is letting the criminals catch you.

“Quick, we need to move. We can’t be made!” she scrambled.

However, instinct got the better of Mako and he pulled her by the door. He rammed her into the wall and with either hand grasping her waist, lifted her against his body.

“Mako, what do you think you’re—”

“Hiding in plain sight. We’ll blend into the darkness better than—”

“Jargala has great seismic sensing,” she said, wrapping her legs around Mako’s waist. It meant Mako’s feet needed to be off the ground too. He felt a brick sticking out the wall and quickly stepped on it, pushing himself further into Lin. Since there was only space for one of his feet, his other foot was hanging in the air and that brick was essentially carrying his and Lin’s weight. He hoped it wouldn’t give out. At least not until the bad guys were gone.

Mako’s face was painfully close to Lin’s. He could smell her hair, her neck, the coffee, her scent and—

There was a rattling sound. They were indeed using the back door next to them to escape. Lucky for them, the door opened outwards and would hide the two of them with their brick behind it.

Rightfully so, the door slammed open, slightly hitting Mako’s shoulder. Lin turned stiff against him and Mako’s arm pulled her closer into his body. Those idiotic sensibilities to protect Lin with his life were coming back.

Zinji was the last one to step out also the one who shut the door to the building. And of course, they noticed two people in the alley that was supposed to be empty.

That’s when a new impulse clouded Mako’s mind. He roughly pressed his lips onto hers, vaguely aware of the three-person audience they had acquired. As if privy to Mako’s most personal thoughts and fantasies, Lin kissed him back. She whimpered softly in his mouth and ran her fingers through his hair. She didn’t want to think about what she was feeling against her inner thigh that rested on Mako’s thigh, but she kept going.

Jargala snorted. “Horn dogs.”

Lin opened one eye and just as the three of them turned away from them, she pushed Mako away and in the blink of an eye, raised the ground and trapped all of them. For Jargala, Lin raised the metallic top of the dumpster, tore it in half and embedded it in the rocks covering the earthbender so she couldn’t escape. Criminals may be learning the old Beifong styles, but metalbending would always be a Beifong original.

“Run to the satomobile and call for backup, Mako. They’re going to have a long night behind bars.”

“Chief Beifong getting it on with the rookie,” Wahkan cackled as Mako left the scene. He was half annoyed he didn’t have to hear the rest of it because Lin did, but the idea of never feeling Lin’s lips on his again saddened him even more.

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

Mako stood by her side as the police-satos took the three criminals away. Their stakeout was a success, but Mako was feeling less than accomplished. He wanted to talk to Lin. No, he wanted to kiss her. Okay, okay, he wanted to talk about the kiss and then kiss her some more.

“They were hiding drugs inside the jennamite and distributing it amongst the triads,” Lin scoffed. “Morons.”

Mako gave her a tight smile.

“It’s almost dawn, go get some rest, detective,” she ordered. “We’ll reconvene at—”

“The engagement party!” he finished quickly.

“What?”

“Bolin and Opal’s engagement party?” He joined his eyebrows with concern and confusion. “It’s tonight.”

“Right,” Lin remembered. “I meant I’d see you at the station. There’s no way I’m letting you off this paperwork.”

“Right.”

“Good night, detective.” She began walking away. But before he realized what was doing, Mako’s hand reached for her wrist and grasped it, pulling her back.

“Excuse me—”

“Go out with me, Lin. I mean,” he was choking, “I would like to go out with you- I want to take you out. No, I mean, take you out like on a date not take you out like kill you or- I should just stop—”

Lin stared at him. Her bottom lip was curled out and her brows were joined together like she was worried he was having a stroke or something.

“That kiss was- well,” Suddenly, those taunting comments he missed were coming back to him. He didn’t hear them but he knew the nature of its contents. Lin would never go out with a detective. They worked together. It was unprofessional and even if Lin did entirely enjoy the kiss, she still wouldn’t go out with someone with his dating records. He was hopeless.

So, he stood there, silently gaping at her face.

“I have to leave, detective. I am imaginably exhausted.”

He didn’t say another word after that. He simply watched her walk away from him and disappear into the night.

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

Sparks of crimson, blue, white, and gold colored the sky. Bolin and Opal had a beautiful engagement ceremony and an even grander party. Suyin had pulled all the stops for her one and only daughter.

Something about the lights, the love or the celebration of companionship felt seemingly soothing. It wasn’t nearly as terrible as Lin had thought. So, she made her way to where a brooding young man stood with a glass of pomegranate champagne.

When her shoulder brushed against his, he turned to his side.

“You were right. I think sleep deprivation makes me delusional.”

Lin smirked. It hadn’t gone unnoticed by the firebender how gorgeous Lin looked in that green silk gown. He decided to allow himself a crush as long as he contained his feelings inside his head. He was all but appreciating beauty.

But surprisingly, she replied, “You were right too. That kiss was- well…” she shrugged nervously.

“Yeah,” Mako agreed with a shy smile. “It was a spur of the moment decision- I’m sorry I kissed you—”

“Don’t be!”

Now he turned towards her. She really was such a spectacular woman, and she was smirking at him. His heart was thumping loudly in his chest, and he briefly wondered if she could feel it from the Earth.

“Is the offer still open?” she asked innocently.

Mako smiled and looked at his feet bashfully. “Would you?" he shook his head, “Would you want to go out with me?”

“I’d like to,” she whispered and slid her hand into his. "We make a decent team."

Mako squeezed her hand and turned back towards the fireworks in the sky.

Chief Beifong was actually going to get it on with him. He smiled to himself at the thought.

Mission accomplished.

#lin beifong #chief beifong #lin x mako #mako #linko #linbeifongsweek

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release-the-mccracken · 1 year

Text

I Was Young And A Menace

Pairing: Pete Wentz x Ryan Ross, very brief Gabe Saporta x Pete Wentz

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Pete had known Gabe long enough to know that his "surprises" shouldn't be trusted. And yet, he found himself blindfolded and tied down to a bed anyway.

Warnings: Anonymous sex, blindfolds, gags, light bondage, body worship, ball worship, bottom Pete, fantasizing, blowjobs, first time bottoming, prostate milking/massage, prostate orgasm, come swallowing, handjobs, overstimulation, crying during sex.

Words: 3,864

Read below the cut or on ao3 now

There were three things that Pete knew to be absolutely, without a doubt, true about Ryan Ross. The first thing was that the boy was gorgeous. He’d thrive in the scene, his looks so stereotypically desirable among their friends and fans. Tall and slender with dark hair that swooped in the same way every other alt boy’s hair did. Big eyes lined slightly messily in black, features soft and pleasantly girlish. Everyone agreed with the fact that Ryan Ross was hot. People tended to dote on him a bit when they first met him, spurred on by a mix between his looks and how young he was.

The first fact made the second one ridiculously hard to uphold. Point two was that Pete could, under no circumstances, sleep with him. Don’t get him wrong, he absolutely wanted to. If Ryan was anyone else, Pete would invite him into his bed within a second. But he just couldn’t do that when it came to Ryan. They had almost a decade of age difference between them with Ryan being freshly eighteen and if that wasn’t bad enough, he knew he held some extent of power over him. He knew Ryan wanted to be famous and he didn’t want the younger man to see sleeping with him as a way to obtain that.

He also couldn’t escape how young Ryan was. It wasn’t that he was childish or anything; he was actually pretty mature, a whole hell of a lot more mature than Pete was even at his own age. But he was so obviously a teenager. Which led into the next problem of inexperience. He seriously doubted the kid had ever stuck his dick in someone and he was almost certain he’d never been fucked himself. He’d be the first one to ever touch Ryan like that, he imagined he’d be pretty much every first for Ryan. Pete knew that should be a deterrent, but his dick didn’t seem to agree with that sentiment.

The third and worst fact about Ryan Ross was that once he decided he wanted something, he wouldn’t stop until he got it. He was persistent and willing to do anything he needed to in order to get what he wanted. It was admirable, he was determined and willing to take his life into his own hands. And some higher being must have a cruel sense of humor because Ryan decided that he wanted Pete. What was once admirable, Pete was now finding it impossible to deal with. He quickly realized he didn’t like how insistent Ryan was when he was testing Pete’s own resolve.

It had been easy not to do anything when Ryan didn’t express any interest in him. He just told himself Ryan didn’t want him, so he was never tempted to make a move. Instead, he would just be his friend in the daylight then spend every night with his hand on his cock and Ryan on his mind. Ryan very quickly became the center of all of Pete’s fantasies. If he was being honest with himself, he knew it was a little ridiculous how much time he spent getting off once he realized he liked Ryan. He felt like he was thirteen again, figuring out that his hand felt like heaven for the first time.

Ryan ended up in every fantasy Pete had, nothing else being able to get him off as quickly as Ryan did. He wanted everything with the younger man. The first time it happened, he imagined Ryan going down on him. He’d been sprawled out lazily in his bed, jerking himself off quickly and picturing someone laid on his bed with him with their mouth wrapped around him. He wasn’t sure how his mind conjured up the thought of Ryan, but he knew he’d never come as hard as he did in that moment. After Ryan popped into his head, it only took a few more pumps of his hand before he came.

In the moment, he couldn’t tell if it’d be hotter to come down his throat or to finish on his face. His cock twitched at the thought of Ryan letting him paint his face like that. After the first time he thought of Ryan, he felt guilty. Luckily, he tended to fall asleep quickly enough after getting off that he didn’t have time to feel bad about it. In the morning, he reasoned with himself that fantasizing was okay. He wasn’t actually touching Ryan, so it must be okay. After giving himself permission to think about Ryan, the taller man never left his mind and he thought about him every time he got off.

Most of the time, he thought about getting to fuck Ryan. Pete was certain he was a virgin and he couldn’t even imagine just how tight he’d feel. He’d be so gentle with him, taking his time to finger him open and suck his cock until his entire body was completely relaxed. By the time Pete finally pushed inside, Ryan would be pliant and willing to take every inch Pete gave him. He would go slow and be gentle with him when he first took his virginity, even though it would feel so overwhelming good that all he’d want to do is snap and pound into Ryan. He’d save that for their round two and by the time they got there, Ryan would be begging him to get a little rougher with him.

Pete had also thought a lot about letting Ryan fuck him. It would be special for him, there wouldn’t be a lot of guys who looked at Ryan and thought about letting him top them. But he’d offer it up to Ryan so sweetly, gently coaxing him into it. He’d promise he’d never judge him for the same silly things that guys Ryan’s own age would. It wouldn’t matter if he couldn’t last long or if he was inexperienced. All he had to do was feel good. Maybe Ryan would be rushed, desperate to get inside of Pete that he left him half prepared. It wouldn’t matter, Pete could take it. In real life, Pete shivered at the idea of Ryan whimpering and crying. Sweaty hands grasping at Pete’s hips as he practically humped him, trying to get every inch inside as he raced after his own release.

But as nice as his fantasies were, a part of him was upset that that’s all they would ever be. He just had to try to move on with his life. That was part of why he let Gabe talk him into accepting a “little surprise” at one of his parties. Pete had been drinking all night and he was just drunk enough to go along with Gabe’s plans. He knew he’d regret it when he woke up the next morning. Gabe's ideas usually did lead to regret, but that was a problem for tomorrow. But in the moment, he’d just giggled and let Gabe drag him off into his bedroom. He’d been certain Gabe’s surprise was just the two of them fucking, letting the taller man strip him down and shove him onto the bed.

“You’re going to love who I have in mind for you,” Gabe promised and Pete gave him a quizzical look. “I’m not the surprise. I’ve got someone else who wants you like this,” He elaborated before Pete had the chance to question him on it. Pete was becoming less sure of this as Gabe carefully tied him down and blindfolded him. “Just tell me if it’s too tight,” Pete didn’t have to. The knots were tight enough to keep him still without hurting him. Normally, he’d love something like this, but all he could do now was worry about who was going to walk through that door.

“I can’t believe I’m letting you do this. This is my worst idea,” Pete rambled, flinching when a hand was suddenly wrapping around his cock. “Fuck, Gabe. Give a guy a warning,” He gasped as Gabe stroked him firmly, long fingers working along his length. He couldn’t see, but he had a feeling Gabe was smirking at him. But Pete couldn’t bring himself to care about that when the hand wrapped around him felt as good as it did, hips rocking up into Gabe’s grip. “Come on, please. Don’t stop,” Pete whined when Gabe let go of his cock once he was hard and leaking.

“Lift your head up for me,” Gabe instructed and Pete followed easily, though he’d do anything Gabe asked if he thought it’d get his hand back on his cock. Cloth was being pressed deeply into Pete’s mouth before being tied around his head. “There we go. All wrapped up for him,” Pete’s head fell back against the pillows as soon as Gabe was done, groaning against the gag. He. So, this surprise was a guy. His mind raced through all the guys they knew, trying to decide who was most likely to want Pete like this and who would let Gabe help them with it. “He’ll be in soon, baby. Be good until then, okay?” Gabe laughed and climbed off of the bed, the door opening and closing a second later.

It felt like hours ticked by before anything happened. Pete was impatient on the best days and when he was desperate for something? It was even worse. His cock weeped, longing for Gabe’s warm fingers to wrap around it again. Every now and then, he’d close his thighs and squirm, trying to get any stimulation on his cock. It felt like forever before the door was finally opening and closing quickly again, the soft sound of footsteps approaching the bed.

Pete squirmed against the bindings and tried to make a noise against his gag, though he wasn’t even sure what he was trying to say. Curiosity was burning him up and he wished he could work his blindfold off. He just wanted to have some hint of who this was. The first one came when the other guy sat down on the bed with him, hands immediately finding his stomach. They were gentle as they glided across Pete’s skin, seeming desperate to touch every part of him. Pete inhaled sharply as a hand rubbed over his bartskull. It was warm, palm soft and fingertips calloused as they pressed into Pete’s skin.

Either a guitarist or bassist, Pete thought to himself. That narrowed it down a bit. He’d think about it more closely, but his mind couldn't escape how close that hand was to his cock. His hips jerked a bit, trying to get attention where he needed it. Luckily, the person seemed to get the idea and long fingers were wrapping around Pete’s cock a moment later. He groaned in frustration when nothing happened for a few moments, the hand just holding him. But his groan quickly turned to one of pleasure as the guy moved down the bed a bit and a warm tongue stroked against the head of his cock.

He whined against his gag and he didn’t know how to explain it, but this was way hotter than any normal blowjob he’d gotten. There was something about being restrained in the way he was that made it better, being unable to see or move, not even able to speak or know who was going down on him. It made it all so much more intense. His thoughts were broken by a mouth wrapping around his head, sucking just a bit too roughly. This person was definitely inexperienced when it came to sucking dick, but Pete didn’t care. Blowjobs were like pizza to him, even the worst ones were still pretty damn good.

The mouth around him was warm and wet, tongue slipping against him curiously. What he lacked in skill, he made up for in enthusiasm. Pete would rather have blowjobs from excited first-timers over disinterested pros any day. There wasn’t anything hotter than someone who enjoyed blowing him, tongue exploring every inch and seemingly unable to get enough of him. The tongue on his cock ran through the precum welling at the tip and then lapped at the slit as though it was chasing more of that taste. They took their time licking and suckling at the head, clearly in no rush.

Pete wanted to hurry them along, but he was helpless to do anything except taking whatever they gave him. His hips rocked up a bit and he hoped they got the hint. It seemed like they did when they began bobbing their head shortly after, inexperience showing even more now. They couldn’t take him very far, only getting about half of his cock inside at the deepest. A mouth was a mouth, though, and the way they rubbed their tongue against the underside of his length made up for it. All too soon, the mouth around his cock pulled off and was replaced by a hand instead.

Pete was confused when his thighs were being pushed up, a bit too roughly, and spread as far apart as they’d go. But he didn’t have to wonder for long before a warm stripe was being licked over his balls instead. Groaning against the gag, his hips jolted involuntarily. He’d always loved having his balls played with and nobody ever did it enough, but they seemed to be showering love on him now. They licked slowly at him, tongue pointed as it ran up the seam there and back down once again. Each ball was sucked into his mouth in turns, alternating between which one he was licking and suckling on.

It made him wonder if this person was actually new to sucking dick or not. He was pulling out moves not even experienced people did, maybe he was just better at this than he was actually sucking. He’d stop every now and then to lick over them again, taking his time to lick around the base of Pete’s cock every time he did so. But Pete’s entire body jerked when he was suddenly moaning around his balls, sending vibrations shooting through the sensitive area. Pete swore he could’ve gotten off just from that, but luckily, he managed to keep himself together a bit better than that.

The movements weren’t predictable, not seeming to have any pattern behind it. It made it hard to guess what was coming next and that excited Pete. He was so caught up in pleasure that it didn’t even register to him when his thighs were being pushed up more. That warm tongue never left him as it moved down, trailing past Pete’s balls and to his perineum instead. His body tensed up a bit when he realized that mouth was slipping lower, down to places he’d never explored. He’d thought about bottoming before, but never even touched his hole, let alone had a tongue so close to it.

He whined against the gag when their tongue pressed firmly against the space between his balls and his hole. It switched between small circular motions and moving up and down over that area, but it felt intense. Shockwaves of pleasure jolted through his thighs as he was touched there and he had no clue why it felt so good. The feeling was unlike anything else he’d ever felt. Hands held his thighs in place as he tried to squirm, forcing him to take everything he was given. It felt like hours passed while he was licked there, the mouth occasionally drifting back up to his balls as well.

He switched between licking roughly at the sensitive spot there, suckling at his balls, and licking up around the base of Pete’s cock. It was overwhelming and Pete had never experienced so many sensations. Being unable to move, speak, or see only amplified everything he was feeling. It felt like so much and not enough all at once. He wasn't sure if he could actually get off like this, but it definitely felt like he could. Maybe it was just the fact that it was an entirely new feeling for him, but he thought he could come untouched if the other person kept going like this.

He’d always been interested in exploring new things sexually, even if sometimes his nerves got the better of him, and he knew this was going to be something he looked into more. He wasn’t sure how to ask someone to do this, but at the very least, he was going to watch a lot of porn of it. The feelings he was experiencing were going to be burned into his mind. Already, he knew this was being filed directly into his personal spank bank. It was pleasant and dirty, and everything he wanted in sex. He didn’t even care anymore that he couldn’t see the person doing this to him.

He had never been big on anonymous sex, but he decided he could make an exception for someone making him feel like this. Hands shifted on him and he was so caught up in how he felt that he couldn’t even focus on it. The tongue rubbing over his taint didn’t leave, pressing a bit harder there and it sent more sparks through his lower body. The noise he made against the gag was embarrassing and for once, he was grateful his sounds were being muffled. His brain was snapped back to reality when he felt an extremely slick finger rubbing at his hole firmly.

He wasn’t sure what to think. He’d always been too nervous to let anything into his ass, it had just always seemed so unappealing to him. The finger was just rubbing and he thought maybe that’s all that would happen. When the finger pressed all the way inside, his thighs tried to snap closed to protect himself against the intrusion, but the man’s free hand pried his legs back apart. He groaned at how easily he was being manhandled and did his best to keep his legs open. Pete tried to just relax at the feeling because it didn’t feel bad; the finger inside him just felt new and weird.

Just as soon as he adjusted to the feeling of a finger inside of him, another one was added. He felt panic rising in his chest a bit, wondering if this person was going to fuck him. He couldn’t move away or even say no, that both excited and scared him. He wasn’t sure if he wanted that or not, but he tried to ease his own nerves by breathing the best he could against the gag. The fingers moved around inside him, squirming and twisting, and he didn’t know what they were doing to him. All of a sudden, every ounce of panic and nervousness disappeared from him as an intense pleasure shot through him.

He moaned loudly against the gag, unsure of what was happening to his body. The pleasure was debilitating and confusing, but he couldn’t think too much about it. He just let himself be touched and made to feel good, not even bothering to try and hold back in noises as he was played with. Once the person found that spot, he wouldn’t let up. He rubbed roughly and relentlessly at the spot, chuckling against Pete’s perineum as he listened to the noises he made. The vibrations shot through him like lightning and he felt close to crying from the overwhelming feeling.

The man’s free hand slid up to Pete’s balls again and began playing with them gently. Fingertips ghosted over them, teasing him with more pleasure. The rough pad of his thumb rubbed up and down the seam, making Pete squirm from how sensitive he was there. His hand finally cupped both of them fully, carefully rolling the now heavy balls around between his palm and fingers. Pete’s breathing was quickly growing more and more rapid, body twitching and moving as pleasure assaulted his nervous system. He groaned when his balls were pulled down lightly.

He could feel what seemed like precum leaking out of him quickly and he groaned at the feeling. He’d never experienced anything close to this and he didn’t know what to expect, but he definitely wanted to find out. Fingers rubbed a bit more firmly inside of him, making him groan against the gag. Tears burned behind his eyes at the intense pressure, but it felt good overall. Pleasure overtook him quickly once he finally came, coming essentially untouched. This orgasm didn’t feel like anything he’d felt before, spreading through his entire body rather than being mostly felt in his crotch.

His pelvis was tighter than it had ever been and his body took longer to adjust to the feeling of getting off. Normally, his orgasm hit him and it was over as quickly as it had begun. But now, the pleasure seemed to come in waves and be endless. He was also sure that he was coming a lot more than he usually did and he couldn’t tell if that was actually real or if he was just imagining it. Those talented fingers worked him through his orgasm, although he removed his mouth and other hand from Pete’s balls. He could feel eyes on him, watching him come undone.

Before he could worry about the embarrassment of it, those fingers were being pulled out of him gently and leaving him pulsing. That mouth connected to Pete’s skin soon after, licking through the come that was still warm on his stomach. He was licked clean as though it was the best thing they’d ever tasted. He all but screamed when they wrapped their lips around the head of his cock, licking him clean there too. It was all too much and he thrashed around under them, sensitivity overcoming him. Luckily, they were merciful and pulled off of him quickly after.

Tears rolled down Pete’s eyes behind the blindfold and he knew he’d have dark streaks from where his eyeliner was running. Everything felt like it was on fire and he couldn’t tell if it was mostly pleasurable or painful now. It’d been so intense. Hands gently removed the gag and he was thankful for being able to breathe easier now. A moment after the gag was moved, lips were pressed to his and they kissed for a moment. It was gentle, far too gentle and sweet for the amount that Pete had just been made to feel, but it was warm and he enjoyed it while it lasted. “That was fun, Pete. We should do it again sometime,” The voice that came was familiar and it took Pete just a moment to catch up. Ryan. It hit him quickly that he had just done all this with Ryan Ross of all people and his mind raced at the thought. Before Pete could even think of what to say, the bedroom door was being opened and shut quickly. And just like that, Pete was alone again and left there with more questions than answers. His body was overworked and his mind was completely blissed out. And he wasn’t sure if he needed to kill Gabe or kiss him for this.

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lizhly-writes · 1 year

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AITA WIP Game

hellloo, @likegemstone! i realize it's been a while, but thank you for the tag! i got stuck in a loop 1) trying to figure out how to write an AITA post 2) trying to find an area where my protag would genuinely wonder if he was an asshole, but! here we are!

Rules: Introduce your WIP in the style of a r/AmItheAsshole inquiry.

tagging! @evanescentdawn @inkstaindusk @juruna-yudja @doksangs and uh, anyone else who wants to take this, i guess!

AITA for asking to open up my relationship?

Look. I know this already sounds bad. Let me explain.

I (M24) have been engaged to my fiancée (F25) for years. Our parents were friends, so they set this up when we were kids. We pretty much grew up knowing we were going to get married, but I’d say overall, we get along well and I’m happy enough with it.

I don’t think my fiancée is happy enough with it.

Some more background: we have this former classmate (F24), who I’ll call “Mei” for now. In university, she took up pretty much all of my fiancée’s attention. There was a lot of drama involved. Even when my fiancée was with me, she was always talking about Mei. Not in a good way, necessarily, but I’ve known my fiancée pretty much my entire life. She wouldn’t be so invested if she wasn’t at least a little interested.

Anyway, things happened, we graduated, Mei dropped off the radar, my fiancée stopped obsessing, and I’m still making this post, because they ran into each other maybe six months ago and it’s like we never left university, except worse. Mei’s always attracted drama, but it’s like her capacity for it has levelled up, and it almost always ends up dragging my fiancée in.

We didn’t set a date, exactly, but we were going to sit down and start wedding planning this year. It keeps getting pushed off -- she’s always busy, she’s always dealing with some emergency, half the time, those emergencies have to do with Mei -- and at this rate, I just don’t think it’s going to happen.

I hear her talk about Mei, and it’s always how she’s annoying but she’s so talented and so smart and so pretty and has so much potential, it’s a waste that Mei doesn’t have any backing and it’s a shame to let someone like that rot, and I could go on, but you get the point, right?

I want to end the engagement, but for certain reasons I don’t want to get into right now, I can’t do it myself. My fiancée can, but she never would, she’s very filial to our parents, and also, both our families are invested in this for more than just emotional reasons. But I feel like if I let things go along this way, it’s just going to be very messy. She’ll end up discontent for no reason she can put her finger on, maybe resenting me as the drama piles up, and then maybe this situation will implode in our faces and the engagement will end anyway, and, I don’t know, I’ll end up in jail possibly.

I figured I could stop at least some of this by opening up our relationship a little. She gets the SO she actually wants, and I stop thinking she’s resenting me for being an obstacle in her whirlwind romance. I don’t think this is the perfect solution -- I’m not even really sure it’s sustainable? -- but it should at least work better than what’s happening so far.

I tried to bring this up with her last night, and she… took it more poorly than I thought she would. She got angry and accused me of trying to get rid of her. She started talking about my apparently low opinion of her sense of duty and honor, and how could I possibly think that of her and how could I possibly think that she’d cheat on me, what kind of person did I think she was, etc. It was messy.

I didn’t think I said anything wrong, but I’m not feeling great about it. She’s never gotten this mad at me before. I feel like I need to bring this up again and talk it out, but was I being the AH for bringing it up to begin with?

#tag games #my writing #transmigrated as the female lead's villain fiance #i'm a boy who transmigrated into a gl novel what am i supposed to do now?!#everything

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allamericansbitch · 11 months

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Listen - I believe in the capacity of people to change. So I don't want to old a go in his 30s to tweets he made over 10 years ago...BUT...I feel if he ever became ashamed of these types of statements he could have deleted them? Like when I was a teen and in my early 20s I said some stupid shit. It was a different time (thankfully before social media) and I was stupid as hell and had low self esteem and just wanted people to like me and jumping on every bandwagon imaginable. I came to my senses when I went out into the real world and got exposed to people and just lived alife. But I still let people know I said stupid shit like that so I can then explain why that was wrong and what I have learned. I just didn't forget about it and shrug my shoulders, ya know? What I am trying to say, is that I will never understand why in this day and age, with everything we know about the internet, why people don't delete their old embarrassing tweets if they in fact don't believe what they were saying anymore. They wait till they are exposed, then apologize and claim that is not who they are anymore.

And to add to that - we all say stupid shit when we are young. Yes, even the best of us. The stupid shit I said was not racist or bigoted or anything like that. It was just early 2000's uneducated view of feminism and being told being a feminist meant you hated men and actually believing that. But I feel like I never had to be told referring to someone by the R word was bad, or fatshaming people was bad, or calling other people ugly and judging them based solely on their looks was wrong. Like, if you are raised right, that should be hard wired into your brain. Treat people with respect is what I always thought was the Christian way. Am I out of line on that? If he really has changed he will delete this shit and apologize. And not one of those fake ass apologies. But if he is already indoctrinated into the way of Talor, there will just be silence. I think in general he probably is what American's consider a "nice" guy. But those are a dime a dozen. Just met one myself. Sweet as hell. I was falling hard. Luckily fate intervened and I was able to find out he had been accused of rape in college. Just your average, American, "nice" guy, referring to his accuser as a damaged slut who was out to get him when I confronted him about it. Wash, rinse, repeat. I have had my fill of "nice" guys. Probably will die alone and at this rate, I am fine with that.

Sorry, hella long. But I wanted to get my thoughts out there. People can change and should be allowed to grow. But they need to show that change before forgiveness can happen. I don't see that happening most of the time. And this just looks like another case of the all American boy who is a red flag but spray-painted himself green to cover it up.

I just like…. This man wasn’t a child, he was 22(?) at the time and in the public eye. I get maybe the r slur wasn’t as universally known to be bigoted as it is now, but fat shaming (solely in relation to women) was bad always. And I think that fans being like ‘he’s ken! He’s perfect!’ automatically was weird as hell considering he was shady from the start. And I get the whole ‘it was 10 years ago people change’ and of course they do but like… he called women breeders recently… so it seems some of the mindsets are still there

#answered #anonymous

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opinated-user · 2 years

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I mean. I knew Lily was ignorant and dumb but this hay’s code thing is another level. Alright gonna out myself, I’m a film major mostly in production and theory. Now the code was implemented in 1934 (though some say 1933). And it didn’t end (well there are debates as to whether we count the actual enforcement or the fact while the code existed but wasn’t enforced) until 1968. A 34-35 year not ten… 34-35 years of enforcement.

During that time there were directors who did sneaky things to fight back against the code. Have multiple kisses shorter than 3 seconds. Have suggestive imagery but blame the dirty thinking on the agent who saw the film to ensure the code was followed. And countless other examples. Not to mention the red scare also Played a BIG part of enforcement. The MPAA has done some things (like granting films with LGBT themes R ratings a rating with that excludes a lot of people) but it’s not as bad as the Hays Code who thought interracial love stories were a big no no, and in 1968 Star Trek had an interracial kiss that said F U to Jim Crow and Hays Code era thinking

my point was more going through the notion that even if it was "only 10" years that it was enforced, that's still a lot of movies, directors and creative people who saw all their hard work go to waste because it didn't meet some ridiculous criteria. for as many success stories you can count of people creatively managing to get around the hays code, there's as much if not way more stories of people and movies that never got made and no one saw. that's a tragedy, whether we're speaking 10 years, 5 years or the actual 30+ years that it was. a human being could have been born and die without ever seeing nothing else but hay's approved movies. it's a tragedy that something so simple and basic like a kiss between two people had to be revolutionary at all, it's disgusting that anyone ever said that two people shouldn't kiss because of racism. especially when we know that before that code existed, movies with queer people being queer already existed and they disappeared for 30+ years. some of them have been erased entirely. i don't understand how anyone can say that blaming the code hays or being mad about it is not only fair, but completely logical. it's not only deeply ignorant from her part to minimize the impact this had on cinema, but it's repugnant considering this is the same thing that LO always does: blame the individuals, never the institutions. the code hays was never implemented, but if it was then it wasn't a big deal and if it did it doesn't matter because these other movies came out, meaning that if your movie didn't it can only be your fault and not the people who enforced those absurd rules in the first place. it's not the fault of Disney that people are done with their "a person close to the production" always goes to the media to try to hype up movies around "our first ever gay character". it's the media, and the people who read that media, on the wrong because they just like to hate disney. it wasn't the fault of Disney's homophobia that TOH was cancelled, everyone just wants to hate Disney for no reason. it wasn't the fault of Netflix's tendencies of cutting queer shows short, the cancellation of First Kill was entirely because it was a "enemy to lovers" sapphic story. it wasn't the fault of Nickelodeon that the production of LOK was a mess, it was the writers and the people involved the only responsible because they should have known better, somehow. it wasn't the fault of Cartoon Network that SU went into hiatus more frequently than any other show at the time, no matter what the people who actually work for the company could say. it was the fault of Sugar for not magically knowing that a hiatus was coming and writing around it somehow. it's always the creative individual people who have the fault, not the companies who used them and disposes them whenever they please for whatever purpose. why do you think she doesn't speak about the big cut of HBO more? why do you think she isn't angry about how CN treated any other show that wasn't Teen Titans Go like utter trash? why is that when she wants to talk about WOW, she still talks far more about her white fantasy favourite female character being mistreated by a mere novelist writer than about the actual victims of harassment from the company?

because LO, for all her talk of being the only good leftist left, it's a capitalist anti-intellectual convenient tool whose true feelings will always have more in common with conservatives that she'd like to admit it.

#lily orchard

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hungermakesmonsters · 10 months

Text

Catch Me If You Can

Chapter Ten

Plot summary : When your friend interviews for a position at Anvil, you have a chance encounter with Billy Russo. He takes you for coffee and, by the time you’re done, Billy decides he’s anything but done with you.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R

Chapter Rating : R for smut

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Just the usual smutty behaviour, some of it happening in a public place. There's also a very brief mention of a car crash but no details are given. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : ~4.7k

A/N : Billy is finally getting to take reader for dinner! So, yeah, that's kind of it. This is roughly the halfway point of the story, so thanks to everyone who's been reading and stuck with it this far, and thank you for all the lovely comments and feedback!! Also, OMG I hit 50 followers - I genuinely did not expect that to happen, thank you all so much!! 🥰

Chapter Ten

You weren’t sure what to expect when Billy picked you up for dinner, but it certainly wasn’t a Rolls Royce (a Wraith to be more precise, as Billy enjoyed explaining to you when he caught you staring at the car). At least it wasn’t a bright red Ferrari, you supposed, but you couldn’t help but feel a little uncomfortable once you were sitting in the passenger seat. It was so expensive and perfectly cared for that you were scared you might do something to ruin it, like you weren’t even worthy of sitting in it.

Billy explained that it had been another impulse purchase, another big ticket item just because he could, because as a boy he’d always wanted a fancy car. Another expensive thing just to try and fill a void. You wondered how empty he must feel to need so many expensive and shiny things, but you didn’t dare ask.

In fact, you remained mostly quiet on the way to the restaurant, not wanting to distract Billy while he was driving.

It wasn’t far, less than twenty minutes. He hadn’t told you where you were going, but once you saw the restaurant, you found yourself nervously playing with your sleeves. You’d never eaten there before, but you knew it by reputation; one of the best Italian restaurants in the state, and you had a good idea just how much it cost to eat there. Suddenly you felt underdressed in your black dress, suddenly you found yourself wishing he had taken you to Pizza Hut.

Parking at the back of the parking lot, Billy killed the engine and, for a few seconds, you were too caught up in your own thoughts to realise that he wasn’t moving.

His hands were still on the steering wheel, gripping it tight. It was something you were getting used to seeing; moments like this where Billy seemed to be fighting against himself, trying to hold himself back. You wondered if he was always like that, or if it was something he did because of you, because he was trying not to scare you. In the time you’d known him, you’d come to realise that Billy was a man of action, that he liked to do things without thinking and he didn't like to hold back when it came to certain urges - he’d called it poor impulse control, Krista had called it hypersexuality. You didn’t know what it was, but you liked to think he felt the same desperate neediness you felt whenever you were together.

“Billy,” you muttered softly, drawing his attention to you.

Your breath caught as he looked at you, his dark eyes flickering with a barely contained desire that had you wanting to crawl onto his lap. Clenching your thighs together, you tried not to think about all the things he could do to you, all the things you wanted him to do.

“We should go eat,” he finally managed, forcing an uneasy smile to his lips before getting out of the car. Before you could fully climb out of the Wraith, Billy was at your side, his hand extended to you. Of course, you took it and let him lead you into the restaurant, all the while smoothing down your dress, wanting to make sure you looked presentable enough to be seen with him. If Billy noticed, he managed to keep it to himself, he just gave your hand a reassuring squeeze as he opened the door for you.

You stayed quiet as you were led to a table - that Billy had somehow managed to reserve yesterday, despite how exclusive the restaurant was. His hand left yours so he could pull out your chair for you and, still, you didn’t speak. You didn’t know what to say about any of it.

When the menu was placed in front of you, you really started to feel uncomfortable; there were no prices listed but, judging from the sort of things on offer, none of it was within your price range.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, though it was clear from the look on his face that he had some idea what was going through your mind.

“Nothing, it’s just -” you gave an awkward sigh, “- this place is really fancy...”

“Order whatever you want, I’m paying.”

“Billy -”

“I know, I know, you don’t want my money, and I promise I’m not trying to buy you. I just really like eating here and I think, if you give it a chance, you’ll like it too.” His shoulder ticked. “Besides I can either spend my money having a good time with you, or I can waste it on something dumb.”

You managed a laugh at that and, despite how awkward it made you feel, Billy probably had a point; he had enough money that he probably wouldn’t ever miss what he spent tonight, and you could at least try to make sure that he wouldn’t be left feeling empty at the end of it. You relented with a sigh and a nod, dropping your eyes back to the menu, though you still tried to think about what would be cheapest.

In the end you settled on pasta, while Billy ordered steak. Without much in the way of conversation, he also took it upon himself to order a antipasto platter for the two of you to share - which, you might have briefly felt uncomfortable about, but seeing the way he lit up when the food started arrive seemed to reinforce his point that he liked eating there, and you didn’t want to do anything that might ruin that for him.

And, you had to admit, the food was very nice. So much so that you were content to eat in relative silence for a little while. From time to time, Billy would ask you what you thought of the food and if you the wine that he’d ordered was alright - and it was, you could already understand why the restaurant was so raved about - but there was something almost shy about the way he was being. And shy wasn’t a word you thought you’d ever use to describe Billy.

It wasn’t until your main course arrived that you really started to notice, wondering if Billy just preferred quiet when he was eating, or if it was you. But, regardless of his silence, every time you happened to look up from your food, you’d find Billy staring at you. The first couple of times, he’d smile before returning his attention to his steak

But, finally, you had to ask; “what?”

“What?” He responded, looking up from his plate.

“You keep looking at me like - like that.”

“Like what?” Still confused, though he managed to give a little huff of laughter.

“Like you’re barely holding yourself back.”

“From what?” He asked, shifting in his seat, sitting a little straighter and leaning back in his chair, like he thought the extra inch of space it created between you could save him. You could tell just by looking at him that there was something he wanted to say, but he kept his mouth shut. Was what he was thinking really that bad or did he just think you didn’t want to hear it? (Did he think you couldn’t handle it?)

You decided to lean forward, destroying the distance he’d tried to create. If you were going to do this, you needed Billy to understand that he needed to talk, otherwise you’d overthink every little thing until you tore it all apart.

“Like there’s something you want but you’re fighting against it?” You tried to explain. “I saw it in the car earlier, and the night of the gala; you get this look like you need to do something but you’re scared to do it.” You watched his face, taking in every little flicker of discomfort as his eyes searched your face, trying to figure out just how much you could handle.

“I told you, I have poor impulse control,” his shoulder ticked upwards, “I’m trying to work on it, so you don’t have to worry about it.”

“Who told you that - that you have poor impulse control?” You asked, but Billy didn’t need to answer, you already had a pretty good idea. The flash of unease on his face said it all; Krista. Your expression instantly softened, and your heart ached for him. “Billy, I’m not worried and I don’t need you to protect me from you. You don’t need to hold back when you’re with me. If you’re scared something might be too much you can just ask.”

“Sweetheart,” he started softly, a warm smile on his lips, “if I didn’t hold back, we’d never leave my bed.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad to me,” you joked and Billy’s gaze seemed to darken with want again.

As much as you wanted to get to the bottom of it, you knew that it wasn’t something you could figure out in one night. Clearly there were bigger issues at play and, in a restaurant, on your first date probably wasn’t the best place to have this sort of conversation.

Your attention returned to your food for a minute or so before you looked up again, catching him staring again.

“Did you sort the thing at Anvil yesterday?” You decided to ask. “The security problem?”

“Not yet,” he answered and fell silent again, attention returning to his dinner. But, after a few seconds, he seemed to realise that you genuinely wanted to talk to him and that his being silent wasn’t conducive to a good dinner date. “I think Frank’s just blowing things out of proportion, it’s probably nothing to worry about,” he shrugged, “we get people poking around a lot, it’s just the nature of the business.”

“Oh, well that’s good, I guess?” You smiled, wanting to show that you appreciated the effort he was making.

“How was your day?”

“It was okay. Work was kinda crazy, but things always start to get insane this time of year,” you shrugged, chewing your lip and thinking for a moment before adding; “but I, uh, got some good news?”

“What kind of good news?” He set his cutlery down and reached for his wine glass, attention completely on you.

“Well, I know this guy who runs a little gallery in Queens, he told me he’s got an opening in the new year and asked if I wanted to put on a show.” It made you nervous seeing the way that Billy practically lit up at the news. “I mean, I don’t know if I’ve got anything worth showing at the moment, but it was nice he asked...”

“You should do it, I’d love to come see some of your work.”

“I’ll be sure to put you on the guestlist,” you laughed despite the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach; the new year was months away and you weren't sure Billy would even still be in your life then. (But seeing him smile at you made you want to hope that he would be.)

“Do you make any money from your shows?”

“Some, but not a lot; mostly just from the door but sometimes people buy things.”

“How much is some? Ballpark figure?”

“Ballpark figure?” You laughed. “You’re such a businessman.”

Bill let out a laugh of his own, shaking his head.

“Sorry, force of habit. It’s hard to switch it off sometimes.”

“Well, I guess some people probably find it incredibly sexy.” You smiled, watching the smirk grow on his lips.

“Oh, some people, eh?”

“Yeah, y’know, the kind of people who get all hot and bothered over men in expensive suits who drive fancy cars and know how to get what they want?” You leaned forward a little more, trying you best to sound seductive, despite the ridiculous grin on your lips.

“Yeah? What about you? Does it get you all hot and bothered?” He smirked, falling right into your trap.

“Nah, I like men who wear jeans and drive Toyotas,” you started laughing, and the look on his face was priceless. As much as he might have wanted to feign upset at the comment, Billy couldn’t stop himself from letting out a ridiculous laugh, and it was the most joyful sound you’d managed to pull from him.

“You’re such a tease,” he took a drink, though his eyes stayed fixed on you.

“Don’t worry, Billy,” you reached for your own glass and took a long, slow drink, “I’m prepared to make an exception for you. What you lack in fashion sense, you make up for in other areas.”

“You’ll have to be more specific,” he prompted, a hint of impatience in his tone, like he needed to hear you say it.

“Well, you have a very talented tongue,” your cheeks started to warm but the ridiculous smile stayed plastered to your lips, “and you have quite a way with words. And you’re very hands on...”

“And you like that, do you?”

You decided not to answer him, instead you made a point of returning your attention to your food before it got cold. Billy’s eyes lingered on you for a few moments more before he did the same. The game wasn’t over yet, not by a long shot, but you needed some time to consider your next move.

After finishing your main course, you excused yourself, heading for the bathroom, as a terrible idea formed in your mind. You could practically feel Billy’s eyes on you as you walked away, and you could almost picture the look on his face as he did, that hungry glint in his eyes, the way his lips curled upwards ever so slightly whenever he stared at you. Especially tonight. Your silly games had gotten to him, but they’d gotten to you too, and it left you craving what would come next.

Standing in the bathroom stall, you took a few deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heart but there was nothing for it. Now that you were doing this with Billy, now that you were finally willing to let him in, you were terrified in the most inexplicable way - it was scary how much you wanted him after so little time. But you did want him, and you wanted him to want you just as much.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you slipped out of your panties, trying not to think about the telling wet spot before balling them up in your hand.

When you left the bathroom, your cheeks were burning; your free hand nervously smoothing down your dress, terrified that everyone would suddenly be able to tell that you weren’t wearing panties. Billy gave you a confused look as you approached the table, and it was almost enough to make you completely lose your nerve. You awkwardly offered your hand to him and quickly handed him the balled up red lace before retreating to your seat.

“What’s this for?” He asked, fighting back a grin, momentarily looking at the panties before shoving them into his pocket.

“They were getting wet,” you managed to answer, nervously biting your lips before adding; “they’re my favourite pair, I don’t want them to get ruined.”

“They’re my favourite pair now, sweetheart.” He smirked at you, a devious glint in his eyes. “If I’d known this was what you were doing, I would have followed you to the bathroom. I hate to think of your needy little pussy all wet and unfulfilled.”

“Billy -” cheeks burning, glancing around, hoping that no one could hear him.

He leaned closer, smiling softly as if the pair of you were exchanging romantic sweet nothings. You felt his ankle nudge yours beneath the table and your breath caught.

“What’s wrong? Am I making your tight little hole drip? Are you making a mess thinking about how my cock would feel inside you if I bent you over this table in front of all these people?” And, just like that, he’d turned the tables on you. You’d wanted to drive him crazy, but you’d underestimated him. He reached for you, his hand covering yours.

“Is that what you’re thinking about?” You dared to ask in little more than a whisper, leaning closer.

“I’m thinking about crawling beneath the table and eating your sweet little pussy as my next course.”

You bit your lip again, thighs rubbing together beneath the table.

“I can’t wait to get you home.” He smirked, obviously noticing your discomfort and revelling in it.

“Does that mean we’re skipping dessert?” you asked, suddenly feeling breathless.

“No, I promised you dinner; it wouldn’t count if we skipped a course.” He kept smiling, his thumb caressing the back of your hand. “Your needy little pussy will just have to wait.” His smile got wider as you almost pouted. “Though, it's driving me crazy knowing how wet you’re gonna be when I get you out of here.

“Now who’s being a tease?” You squeezed his hand, giving away just how much he was getting to you.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, did I ruin your plans?” He asked with an unapologetic smirk. “Was I supposed to get flustered or did you want me to drag you out of here and fuck you in the car?”

You dropped your gaze, cheeks burning, not really having an answer for him; you’d just wanted to make him feel as out of control as you did.

“I appreciate the effort though,” Billy continued, “I like knowing the effect that I have on you.”

Your lips parted, about to say - you weren’t even sure what, when you were interrupted by the waiter bringing your dessert.

You ate dessert slowly, your eyes fixed on Billy, knowing that once you were done eating the rest of the night would begin. You both remained calm and composed, as you finished your meals, and as Billy paid the check. You pulled on your coat and slowly let him lead you from the restaurant, but things quickly changed the moment you reached the parking lot.

It was dark save for the flickering of a single street light, only two other cars remained but Billy had parked at the back of the lot, out of the way.

By the time you reached the Wraith, his hands were on your hips, turning you to face him as he pressed you back against his car. He kissed you, nipping at your lip before slipping his tongue into your mouth. Your fingers gripped his tie, holding him close, surrendering yourself to him.

“You drive me fucking crazy,” he muttered against your lips, “you got me so fucking hard with that little stunt with your panties.”

“Good,” you answered, your hand slipping down his body to palm his erection through his pants.

“You keep that hand there and I’m not gonna be responsible for my actions, sweetheart.” Billy groaned.

“You should be more concerned with what I’m gonna do to you,” you smiled, your hand releasing his tie and gently pushing him backwards so you could drop to your knees in front of him. Your hands started to pull at the fastenings of his pants, pulling his hard cock through the zipper. Billy gave a groan as your fingers ran along his shaft, his own hand finding the roof of the Wraith for support.

He was barely breathing when you looked up at him.

You took a deep breath before leaning forward, your hand still gripping his cock while your tongue slipped between your lips.

You felt him twitch as your tongue touched hot skin, heard him groan as you ran your tongue from root to tip, lapping the salty sweetness that had already leaked from him as your tongue swirled over his tip. Lips trailed hot kisses up and down his shaft, smiling as he swore under his breath, and loving the marks your lipstick left on his skin.

You wet your lips with your tongue before finally taking him into your mouth, pulling an eager moan from him. He reached for you with his free hand, fingers fisted in your hair, gently guiding you up and down the length of him, while your fist pumped the base of him.

Billy was completely yours in that moment. With just your lips, you’d rendered him speechless, helpless, and hopeless. The feeling of power was intoxicating; the way he moaned and shuddered and swore made you want more. It made you want everything. Your cheeks hollowed against him, tongue working along every inch of him, your moans vibrating around him.

“That’s it. Look at me, sweetheart,” he grunted as your eyes found his, staring up at him through your lashes, and the look on his face had moaning even harder around him, “I wanna watch you suck my cock.”

His grip tightened, his chest heaving with every panted breath. He was getting closer and you didn’t want to stop. You took more of him, managing to sink lower and lower with the encouragement of his hand, earning more desperate moans from him. Eyes watered when he hit the back of your throat, but you didn’t stop, you barely even slowed. Tilting your head a little, he slipped into your throat and you felt his grip tighten, but just a fraction. Billy was barely managing to hold himself back, you could see it in his eyes, in the way he grit his teeth. You almost wanted to push him, make him lose control completely, but you didn’t want him to take over. You were in control of the moment and that was how you wanted it to stay.

You heard your name and the start of a gasped warning before his hips bucked and his cock started pulsing, filling your mouth. Despite trying to warn you, his grip on your hair didn’t loosen. You kept pumping his length with your fist, swallowing down everything he gave you, milking every last drop from him until it was too much for him to bear and he had to gently push you away. You dropped back against the Wraith, knees protesting and aching, licking his cum from your lips, feeling very proud of yourself.

“Fuck,” he muttered, breathless as he forced his cock back into his pants and offered you his hand.

Your knees ached from the gravel as you stood back up, but once you were up, Billy’s arm was around you, supporting you, holding you against him.

“Did you enjoy that?” You asked quietly, almost shyly, as if there was any chance someone else might overhear.

“Sweetheart, I think I just about lost my goddamn mind,” he smiled, lightly pressing his lips to yours before reaching around you to open the car door for you. “I’m gonna show you just how much when I get you home.”

Your shaky legs just about managed to get you into the car, and Billy shut the door behind you. While he made his way around to the driver's side, you checked yourself in the mirror, and found your lipstick smeared around your mouth. As Billy climbed into the Wraith he shot you a very smug look before handing you his handkerchief. He started the car while you did your best to fix your makeup.

There was a relative silence for a while, and you were content to just look out the window at the New York City lights. You didn’t talk, again, not wanting to distract Billy. But it felt like there was something in the air between you, a tension, a longing for things to come.

He glanced your way a couple of times before his hand found your thigh, causing you to tense suddenly. The hand was quickly pulled back and the car was very quickly filled with a different kind of tension.

“What’s wrong?” He dared to ask, his attention fixed on you more than the road, and that just made things worse.

“Watch the road, please...” you awkwardly pleaded and, to his credit, Billy did as you asked.

An awkward silence filled the air for the next few minutes; he didn’t dare look at you so he didn’t see the way you were awkwardly pulling at the sleeves of your jacket, your eyes fixed on the road just beyond the windscreen. He didn’t look again until he hit a red light and the car had come to a complete stop.

“What did I do?” He asked.

You didn’t want to tell him, you weren’t ready to share that part of your life with him, but you’d agreed, hadn’t you? You’d told him that you’d stop pushing, that you’d tell him if he fucked up. And he had fucked up, just not in a way he could have anticipated.

“Nothing,” you answered quietly, “It’s not you. I - I was in an accident and, now, being in cars makes me nervous sometimes.”

“Is that how -” he didn’t finish the question, he didn’t have to. He put it together, at least part of it. Your scars had come from a car crash. “Shit, sweetheart, I’m sorry.”

You shook your head. “You didn’t know. I should’ve warned you.”

Whether out of respect to your anxiety at being in the car or just because he didn’t have anything else to say, Billy stayed mostly quiet the rest of the way back to his apartment, save for asking you if you were alright a couple of times and if you were warm enough. It was more than enough time to get over the awkwardness of Billy knowing a little bit more about you and, by the time the car was parked, you were ready to put it all behind you and continue the rest of the night with him.

He took your hand in his as he led you from the car to the elevator, your bag slung over his shoulder and holding you extra tight - you weren’t sure if it was meant as a reassurance or a sign that his patience was wearing thin. Either way, you squeezed his hand in return. His other hand, you soon noticed, was in his pocket along with your balled up panties.

You found that familiar look on his face once you were in the elevator. He didn’t look at you, he didn’t dare, you just kept squeezing his hand, silently telling him that you were there, that everything was alright. The elevator dinged when it reached the penthouse and everything quickly became a blur.

By the time the elevator door had closed behind you, Billy had you against the wall, your legs around his hips and the bag with your things abandoned somewhere on the floor. His hands awkwardly tugged open his pants, dropping them to the floor before, thrusting his cock into your wetness. You cried out, straining around him, wet but not entirely ready, your fingers curling in his hair. He didn’t give you time to adjust or get used to him before he started to fuck you, roughly laying claim to you.

“This is what you get for trying to play games with me, sweetheart,” he all but growled against your lips. All you could think was that if this was the sort of punishment you’d get for playing games and trying to rile him up, then you’d have to do it more often.

Your head dropped back against the wall, moaning and completely at his mercy, losing yourself with every snap of his hips.

There was no holding back the inevitable and, soon enough, you were moaning his name as you came undone, and Billy soon followed suit. He kept you against the wall, his weight holding you in place as he came inside you, still moving until he’d completely emptied himself, leaving you feeling oddly triumphant.

“See?” You panted, smiling widely. “I like your poor impulse control.”

His hand moved, gripping your jaw loosely with his fingers, looking at you like he was trying to make sense of something incomprehensible. You held his gaze, wanting him to see that you wouldn’t waiver, that you wouldn’t shy away from this side of him. Then he kissed you, softly, reassuringly, telling you a thousand things he didn’t have the words to say aloud to you.

He lingered against your lips as your arms wrapped around his shoulders, holding him not because he was still inside you, but simply because you wanted to hold him. (How many people had just held him, you wondered.) Your fingers ran through his hair and you smiled against his lips. When he pulled back again, he still had that look, like he just didn’t understand. But you didn’t ask; it wasn’t your place to tell him how to feel, you just hoped he’d figure it out eventually.

Without a word, he lowered you and, once your feet were back on the floor, he was pulling you towards the bedroom so he could spend the rest of the night keeping you from sleep.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

END NOTES : So, yeah this is about the halfway point with what I have planned (I've got about 20 chapters planned, unless any get too long and need breaking up) but now that reader and Billy are in a nice place with their relationship, it's time to turn up the angst. There might be some more triggering stuff coming up in the next part, so please check the warnings! Next part should be up same time next week.

As ever, thanks so much for reading!! I know I say this every time but I'm honestly just overwhelmed with the likes/comments/reblogs/follows, it really does mean so much to me! (I have no idea how many of you are real and how many are bots, but you're all great - if you're not a bot drop an emoji in the comments idk)

If you want adding/removing from the tag list let me know (if it's not working for some reason... I honestly have no idea how to fix that but I hope it is working??)

TAG LIST

@lincerad @sweetserendipity65 @rafaelakelley @slayerofthevampire @rensolodriver @lovelydoveval @doloreschanal @uncontainedsmiles @damagelove @danzer8705 @unlikelystarlightcowboy @schlotzshewrote

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #billy russo fanfic #the punisher #cmiyc ff

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bunnimew · 2 years

Text

Perverse Pumpkin

Rating: T Fandom: Rise of the Guardians Relationship: Jack Frost/Pitch Black Tags: Humor, bad humor tho, pumpkin carving Summary: For RotG Halloween 2022: Day 3 @rotg-halloween

Jack should have known Pitch couldn't be trusted with a pumpkin and time on his hands.

On AO3 here.

Jack smiled to himself as he pushed the knife through the pumpkin’s shell, slowly, carefully, taking his time to shape the intricate snowflake he had sketched into the face. This wasn’t his favorite part of Halloween, but it was pretty high up there in the list of things Jack liked about it.

“You know,” he said, “the Guardians thought I was crazy, inviting you to carve pumpkins with me.”

Jack paused, listening to the sound of serrated blades sliding through thick fruit and chunks of pumpkin falling and rolling over the newspaper spread out under their work area on Jamie’s back porch. The wind was teasing through the trees, pulling more colorful leaves off the branches and tossing them to the ground around them. Critters scurrying under and around the porch crunched the dry foliage under their little feet here and there. Jack loved Fall.

When no reply came, Jack continued on his own. “They said it was a bad idea. Like you might take over the world with backlit pumpkin shapes or something.”

“Well, I don’t know,” Pitch mused. He sounded very focused on what he was doing, and not on what he was saying. “If I could figure out how to brainwash the world via jack-o-lanterns, I probably would give it a good go…”

Jack snorted. He wasn’t foolish enough to deny it. That was the sort of thing Pitch might try to, except it would have to be possible in the first place, and it wasn’t. Jack’s snowflake was only about half done, but Pitch looked like he was leaning back and admiring his completed work already. “Did you finish? Let me see!”

“I think I am,” Pitch said with a note of pride. “It’s my first time, so you’ll have to let me know if I’m doing this right,” he said, and then spun his pumpkin around so Jack could see it.

Jack would never be able to unsee it.

“Oh my God!” Jack cried, laughed, covered his mouth, and then tried to cover the pumpkin. “Pitch! You can’t do that! What if the kids see? We can’t let the kids see it!”

“Why not?” Pitch asked, pulling his pumpkin away from Jack’s grabby hands.

Why not? Because it was an asshole. Pitch had carved a pair of hands and, beyond all comprehension, a dick and balls into the top of his pumpkin, leaving the puckered remnant of the stem behind to represent, well, a behind.

“I take it back,” Jack said quickly, looking around for something to throw over the debauched gourd. “The Guardians were right. You absolutely will use any opportunity to corrupt the world and destroy the innocence of children.”

“I mean,” Pitch said, cradling his depraved creation in his lap, “yes. I do do that… But I hardly see what that has to do with a simple pumpkin carving.”

“How do you not?” Jack demanded, fighting to keep his volume under control. “You weren’t supposed to make an R rated pumpkin!”

Pitch scoffed. “This is hardly an R rating. It’s PG-13, at most. Jack, you’re overrea—”

Jack froze solid when he heard Jamie’s voice right beside them. “Oh cool! Jack-o-lanterns!”

His entire past, present, and potential future as a Guardian flashed before Jack’s eyes as he listened to those light footsteps come closer. This was it. Jamie was about to see something he shouldn’t and the Guardians would be so disappointed in him and they would never talk to him again and it was all because real life didn’t come with a 3-second delay and a convenient censor bar.

“I like your snowflake, Jack!” Jamie said. Then Jack watched, in slow motion, as his little head turned and spotted Pitch’s unwholesome squash for the first time. “Uh…”

Pitch, to his credit, did look a little nervous. But he held the pumpkin in both hands and waited patiently for Jamie’s verdict nonetheless.

Jamie bit his lip and looked uncertainly up at the Boogeyman. “What is it?”

Pitch’s eyes widened. Jack realized this was his chance. This was his opportunity to step in and change the subject before it could all go wrong. Except Pitch was already opening his mouth and—

“It’s a flower!” Pitch said. He even managed to make himself sound a little excited about it.

Jamie’s face scrunched up as he looked closer at the asshole in front of him. The pumpkin, not Pitch.

Jack… only didn’t throw himself bodily in front of it because at this point, it would be more suspicious if he did.

Finally, Jamie looked skeptically up at Pitch and said, “Petals usually go the other way, don’t they?”

Pitch, only good enough at acting to fool a child, lifted the pumpkin and turned it so he could look it over, then nodded as if he’d decided something and set it back down. “It’s an orchid. But thank you, Jamie. I will remember that for next time. It’s my first jack-o-lantern, you see?”

“Oh!” Jamie perked right up and smiled that big, bright smile of his. “That’s so cool! I’ve done it loads of times. I’m sure you’ll get better at it!”

Pitch gave him a tight smile. He was trying so hard. “Yes, I’m sure that I will. Thank you, again.”

“No problem!” Jamie said, then turned back to Jack. “I have to go inside. Mom said dinner would be ready soon. See you around!”

Jack numbly lifted an arm and waved as Jamie hurried up the steps beside him and vanished into the house.

They were silent for two whole minutes.

“Well,” Pitch said, “crisis averted.”

All of the air left Jack’s lungs in one huge relieved sigh. And then he glared as hard as he could at Pitch.

Who smiled benignly and hugged his pumpkin to his chest.

Jack shook his head. “I both love and hate you so much right now.”

Pitch reached across the gap between them to pat Jack’s hand. “Get used to that feeling, Love. At least it’ll keep things interesting.”

#TheBunni #rotghalloween2022 #Rotg #Rise of the Guardians #blackice #blackicerotg #jack frost #pitch black

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taletheoldcrowtold · 3 months

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Pride 2024 - Day 19

Movie: Carol

Made: 2015 – Set in: 1950s

Starring: Cate Blanchett, Rooney Mara, Sarah Paulson, Kyle Chandler, Jake Lacy, John Magaro

Rated R for: Language, sexual content and nudity (boobies)

Based on the book, The Price of Salt, by Patricia Highsmith, the movie follows Therese Belivet, a store clerk at a big department store, as she meets Carol Aird while she’s shopping for a Christmas gift for her daughter. The two soon start a friendship that grows when Carol and Therese go on a trip together.

The movie focuses on character struggles more than any real plot, as Carol is trying to leave her husband and he wants to make it work. Therese also has guy trouble, as her boyfriend wants to marry her and go to Europe. The two women bond really quickly, as their lives both seem to be chaotic.

Spoilers under Keep Reading Line

Nobody dies in the end and it is implied that the two might get together

The movie starts at a scene toward the end of the movie before flashing back to the day Carol and Therese met, which I wasn’t a fan of as it took a moment to figure out it went back in time. But that was the only big problem I had with it. I thought the story was heartbreaking for Carol, as she was very attached to her daughter and didn’t wish to lose her. Carol was punished because of who she was and her husband tried to control her and use their daughter as a way to keep their marriage going. I could also relate to Therese in not knowing what she wants in her life and just saying yes to it all because it’s easier to do than deciding. I’m also not really sure why Therese’s boyfriend didn’t just take a hint and stop trying to marry her, as it was painfully clear she didn’t want to do that. Also, as soon as the guy in glasses showed up I knew he was going to be trouble, but not the kind I expected (he ended up being a PI, I think? He recorded Carol and Therese together, and I assume he was hired by her husband but it never says how he knew where to find them). But I thought the movie was nicely acted and though I don’t like the cliffhanger ending, it at least implies that the two women might get back together.

Mom’s Thoughts: This is a well-acted movie that takes place in the early 1950s New York City. Carol is a married woman in the midst of a divorce and, with one lesbian affair behind her, could possibly lose custody of her four-year-old daughter to her husband. Nevertheless, she decides to pursue a relationship with a salesgirl who has caught her attention. I felt Carol’s husband was controlling and even though he disapproved of Carol’s lifestyle, he wanted them to stay married. I felt this was more for appearance sake rather than he actually loved her. The beginning is a little confusing as it starts with a scene that actually takes place near the end of the movie then goes back to the point where Carol and Therese meet without indicating to the viewer that we’re watching a flashback. It took me a minute to catch on that we had gone back in time. Another thing I found disturbing was that a detective hired by Carol’s husband (I’m assuming, since he was recording Carol and Therese having sex in their motel room) had caught up to her when her husband hadn’t known she had left her home. No explanation of how he found her. To me this is a loose thread that should have been explained. Even with those two bugaboos I thought the story was tastefully done and as a viewer, I could see the budding friendship that grows to attraction between Carol and Therese. Also, the portrayal of the fifties gay population was pretty accurate—no one talked about homosexuality or admitted to being gay. I liked that the ending implied that Carol and Therese get together.

#pride #movie review #pride month #movie reviews with my mom #lgbtqia #pride movie #Carol (movie)

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skelemen · 1 year

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Bloodhounds - Chapter 2/? (A JJK Fic)

Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major and Minor Character Death Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Aged-Up Characters, Heavy Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blind!Gojo, Suguru and Kenjaku are the same person in this, I swear this fic isn’t about boxing Characters (in this chapter): Fushiguro Megumi, Gojo Satoru, Itadori Yuuji, Kugisaki Nobara, Itadori Wasuke, Yoshino Junpei (mentioned) Word Count: 2,745

Originally posted to AO3, which you can check out here!

Summary: Megumi updates Satoru on one of the borrowers of his zero-interest loans. Yuuji and Nobara go shopping and discuss what they should value as boxers.

The neighborhood was quiet at that time of day, so the only sounds heard were sneakers hitting the concrete as two people ran through the streets — one trying their very best to escape the other. Fushiguro Megumi had no intent to let his target escape, even if he had to chase this guy all day and night. Judging by the distance that started to lessen, Megumi didn’t think he would have to chase him for even another thirty minutes. He just wanted to get his hands on Yoshino Junpei to help make his own day a little bit better.

“Get back here, you stupid fuck!”

When he finally did catch him, it was by tackling him to the ground. The two rolled around for a few seconds before Megumi had Yoshino pinned beneath him. He threw one, two, three alternating punches in quick succession, not all of them hitting exactly where he aimed. Yoshino groaned in pain beneath him, and Megumi pulled out the taser he kept on him for moments like this. The scum beneath him spasmed for a few seconds until he went entirely limp.

Megumi grabbed his wrist, looking at the watch there. He shrugged indifferently, pulled it off Yoshino, and shoved it into his pocket. He pat Yoshino down further, finding a stack of IDs in his pocket. Megumi’s scowl deepened, and he shoved the IDs into his own pocket as well before walking away. There wasn’t much else he could do for now, but Megumi was just happy to have achieved that small feat on his own. He could try again later on a different day whenever Yoshino had the rest of his group with him.

“Hey!”

He turned around to find a guy with pink hair charging down the road at him, and Megumi was surprised he hadn’t heard him until that point.

Is this guy friends with Yoshino? Megumi thought to himself.

He didn’t have much longer than that to consider it before he started running away as fast as he could. The pink-haired guy kept up incredibly well, though. That was… until a perfect blind spot approached over the top of the hill, and Megumi shoved himself into the small space between two of the buildings before the other man could round the corner.

It was easy to push the taser into the pink-haired guy’s side and press the button. It was even easier to straddle the guy with all of his weight and press the taser under his chin threateningly.

He didn’t expect the answers he got from the guy, though. Who involves themselves in other people’s business in such a manner? Yoshino could have robbed Megumi two neighborhoods over, and this guy would never have known such a thing. By all means, Yoshino was technically a thief.

“Stay out of this. It doesn’t concern you,” Megumi told him. “That guy is not someone who needs your help. He’s a fucking scumbag.”

Before the guy beneath him could say anything further, he activated the taser again until he passed out. Megumi started to finally walk away, but then he sighed and looked over his shoulder at the guy. There was no way to know for sure that he was friends with Yoshino, and the scene between the two of them probably looked bad to a passerby. So Megumi rolled his eyes and picked the guy up off the ground and positioned him against a nearby wall so that he was comfortable.

Instead of walking, Megumi decided he should get away faster in case the persistent guy woke up sooner than expected. He seemed rather heavy when Megumi tried to move him, but it had to have been muscle mass. If the other guy dodged Megumi’s punches so easily and he was that in shape, Megumi could only assume that he would lose in a fight against him. So jogging back to the bookshop it was.

The bookshop was in a building filled with other tiny shops and businesses, cramped hallways, and dim lights. It had a slight smell to it, but one that Megumi had gotten accustomed to over the many years he’d gone there. A bell rang over the shop door when he walked inside while removing his mask, and soft talking drifted toward him from further in the shop. He followed the sound to find a woman sitting on one of the couches extending a thick envelope out in front of her.

“I am so grateful that you helped me when my son was sick, and I wanted to pay you back as quickly as I could,” she said, her voice wobbling from the overwhelming emotions she felt. It was a common scene to Megumi, but it didn’t stop his heart from panging each time. “This is the full amount I owe you. Thank you again. Thank you so much.”

“That’s really not necessary,” the person across from her said. Gojo Satoru had one of his ankles resting on the other knee, and dark, round sunglasses hid his eyes from anyone who tried to get a glimpse of them, a metal framework blocking those glimpses from the side. “I already told you that it’s a zero-interest loan, and I don’t need you to pay me back any time soon. You need the money more than I do during a time like this. Your concern should be on your son’s recovery instead of how you’re going to pay your bills.”

The woman shook her head, sniffing quietly but still smiling as she said, “It’s because of your generosity that I was able to do that. Now he’s all better, and we’re completely caught up on our loans and bills. So I really can’t thank you enough, Gojo.”

Satoru smiled and waved it off again, but Megumi appeared at the woman’s side and bowed slightly to her. She looked up at him in question as he extended out his hands with his palms up. He told her, “Gojo won’t accept it himself, so I can take it and put it away. Thank you very much for paying us back. Don’t hesitate to let us know if you need help in the future.”

Once she handed over the money to him, she stood up and bowed a few times toward Satoru. Megumi helped show her out of the bookshop, locking the door behind her. He tucked the envelope into his back pocket and returned to where Satoru was still reclined on the other couch. His smile had dropped away to that almost sad expression that Megumi had seen him wear when he thought no one was around to see it.

He intentionally made noise as he approached again, causing Satoru to turn in his direction and frown deeper. Megumi dropped onto the couch with a groan, putting his feet up on the coffee table between the two of them.

“Where have you been?” Satoru asked.

“Out,” Megumi replied, pulling out his phone to check his notifications.

“Were you fighting again?”

He took a very loud and very long deep breath before exhaling just as dramatically, dropping his phone onto his stomach.

“I was following that Yoshino guy that still hasn’t paid you back the money he borrowed,” Megumi admitted, narrowing his eyes as he waited for the complaints Satoru would throw his way.

But instead of immediately complaining, Satoru crossed his arms and asked, “What did you do?”

Megumi snorted and pulled the watch from his pocket, tossing it into Satoru’s lap. He said, “I took his fancy watch from him since it should cover the cost.”

“I’m pretty sure this will more than cover the cost of what he borrowed, Megumi.” He sounded disappointed and frustrated, but Megumi shrugged and yanked the watch back from Satoru’s fingers still tracing over the details. “You should return it to him.”

“Plus interest, then,” Megumi said. “I’m not returning it.”

Satoru pinched the bridge of his nose, unable to stop the frustrated sigh that escaped him. He told Megumi, “You’ve got to stop doing this. Going out searching for fights? I thought you moved past this in middle school.”

“I’ll stop when you stop giving out zero-interest loans to people,” the younger man said dully, pushing himself to his feet and moving as if he were going to leave. Both of them knew that Satoru wouldn’t stop, so Megumi wouldn’t stop either when people tried to take advantage of the man who raised him.

“Why are you really following Yoshino?” Satoru asked, causing Megumi to stop in his tracks. “I know it’s not over ¥ 75,000 because that’s nothing compared to some of the other loans I’ve given out.”

Megumi didn’t want to tell Satoru about it because he knew Satoru would only try to convince him to leave it alone. Some things just couldn’t be left alone to fester and infect everyone else, though. It wasn’t fair. So if Megumi had to heat the blade and amputate the wound, then so be it.

“Yoshino and some others are scamming the homeless in the area by stealing their IDs,” he said, turning around to face Satoru with crossed arms. “Then they’re taking those IDs and borrowing millions of yen a day.”

Satoru’s mouth formed a tighter and tighter line the more Megumi explained, and he shook his head once the explanation was finished. He said firmly, “You need to leave these people alone, Megumi. These are not the kind of people you want to get involved with.”

Megumi rolled his eyes at the dramatics of it all, a soft scoff escaping him. Satoru ripped his sunglasses off at that and looked in Megumi’s direction with narrowed eyes.

“Even I couldn’t fight guys like these on my own. You know what happened when I tried.”

His narrowed eyes were foggy, clouds swirling over the top of once bright blue eyes. All along the skin of his eyelids were jagged scars that stood out pink as if the tissue was agitated. Megumi frowned at the sight of them, grateful that Satoru was unable to see his reaction to the scars. It was a brutal reminder of a painful history that Satoru had to bear, one that carved him into who he was.

“I hate when you use your blindness against me,” Megumi said without any emotion.

“Did it work?”

“No,” he called out over his shoulder as he walked away, plans of heading home in mind.

Satoru sighed softly, letting his head fall back as he played with the sunglasses in his hands. Megumi had always been headstrong when it came to matters such as these, never changing his mind until it was he who was ready to change it. So if he couldn’t change Megumi’s mind, then maybe he could help out the younger man in other ways. Only one solid idea came to mind, and Satoru pulled his phone out of the pocket of his black slacks. Using the phone’s assistant, he asked it to dial up an old friend.

“Hey, man. I know it’s been a while,” he said, a smile instantly stretching across his lips if even for only a few seconds. “I need your help with something. I’m looking to hire someone.” He paused as someone spoke on the other end of the phone. “A skilled fighter — with a good heart! Someone who can look out for Megumi and maybe even be a friend to him.”

* * * *

Hours after the incident with the masked guy and the homeless man, Yuuji and Nobara were out shopping. Well, it would have been more accurate to say that Nobara shopped and Yuuji carried her shopping bags for her. He had been easily convinced to do so when she kept whining about how sore she was and showing off all her bruises. At least she paid for the coffee that they stopped for in the warm building away from the winter winds.

“Even if he’s just in it for the money, why does that matter? He’s still really good at what he does,” Nobara said, referencing one of the boxers that they were discussing.

“So you think making money is the only thing that should matter?” He asked her, mixing the whipped cream on top of his drink fully into the coffee.

“I value the money I make from the fights I win,” Nobara said, shrugging. “I only care about continuing on so that I can win more and more money until I can buy whatever the hell I want whenever the hell I want.”

Yuuji pursed his lips as he considered it, but then he shook his head. He told her, “A boxer should value being kind and honest, fighting with honor and integrity, and never giving up. That’s what it means to have the heart of a boxer — that’s the kind of person I want to be.”

Nobara made a face and laughed softly at him.

“You got so serious all of a sudden. Shouldn’t you care more about money with your current situation?” She asked, taking an obnoxiously long and loud sip from her drink through her straw with her eyebrows raised high. “What else are you even doing right now besides boxing? For like work.”

“I do parcel deliveries every now and then. It’s good cardio, and the muscles I work out doing it help with my balance,” Yuuji said, head tilting up as he tried to remember all the other jobs he had done in the past. “I don’t really like kids, but I worked at a kindergarten for a little bit. It shut down so that isn’t an option anymore. I help out in Gramps’ cafe on the rare occasion it’s busy, but he doesn’t like it when I do because he feels guilty about needing the help.”

“How much is the prize from the regional tournament coming up for the men’s division? I know it’s more than the women’s,” Nobara said.

Yuuji replied a little sadly, “I’m not sure, but I’m not able to go anyway. I can’t afford the travel costs, and leaving Gramps for that long… I’d be distracted the whole time wondering if he’s okay.”

“What do you mean?” Nobara asked, suddenly turning serious.

“Huh?”

“What do you mean you can’t afford the travel costs?” She clarified, her voice getting louder. “I thought travel and board was covered by the league?”

Yuuji grimaced when he realized what had happened, his eyes drifting down to the bags around them. Where all of Nobara’s prize money sat in the form of clothes and accessories.

“Fuck,” she said, dropping her forehead onto the table in front of her. “We both need jobs, then.”

By the time the two of them were done hanging out, the sun had long since set. Yuuji walked Nobara home since they were in the area around her apartment, and they even passed where he had his encounter with the masked guy. That encounter played on a loop in his head Yuuji’s whole walk back to his own home.

That guy is not someone who needs your help.

Had he really misread the situation so badly? The one that the mask guy had called a scumbag seemed he was in trouble, but he had disappeared whenever Yuuji woke back up. Maybe they knew each other. Maybe the scumbag had robbed the mask guy. It’s a curiosity that he was never going to have satiated, he was sure of it.

Yuuji stood at a crosswalk waiting for the signal to turn when his phone vibrating pulled him from his thoughts. The screen showed that it was Gramps, so Yuuji quickly answered.

“Hey, I’m on my way home right now. I know I didn’t tell you—”

“Don’t come home, Yuuji,” his grandfather said seriously.

“What?” Yuuji said with a laugh, thinking that it must be some sort of joke. One of the ones that his grandfather thought was funny but Yuuji never truly got. “I’m coming home, I’m only fifteen minutes away.”

“No! Listen to me, boy. Do not—”

Before Gramps could finish his statement, the loud crashing of glass shattering filtered in through Yuuji’s phone speaker. It sent a cold shiver straight down his spine, and Yuuji pulled his phone away from his face to look at the screen right as the call ended. The cold shiver reached all the way to his blood, turning it to ice.

He didn’t wait for the crosswalk signal to turn before he started running.

#my writing #bloodhounds #jjk fanfic #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #yuuji itadori fanfic #megumi fushiguro fanfic #nobara kugisaki fanfic #satoru gojo fanfic #write

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