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total-dxmure · 7 months

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ೃ࿔ CHERRY FLAVORED →【ELLIE WILLIAMS】→ CHAPTER ONE

pairing: mega fan!ellie williams x rock star!reader

summary: your guitarist was carted off to rehab after just one month into your recent tour. fuck. there’s only one thing you can do, and that’s hire a replacement. your band thinks it’s going to be nearly impossible to find someone that is on the same level of talent as your “beloved” guitarist. you don’t have high hopes that anyone can nail the songs quite like he did either, if you’re being brutally honest. enter ellie- she’s a mega fan. the girl knows every lyric and note like the back of her hand. . . and everything about you, which isn’t creepy at all. her apparent obsession with you is something that you and your tour manager can overlook if it means carrying on with the rest of the tour. forced proximity with a stalker-level fan . . . what’s the worst thing that could happen?

warnings: smut in next chapter, talk of substance abuse, the reader is a tease and a bit of a bitch but it’s hot i promise, ellie is obsessed with reader to an unhealthy degree.

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this. DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.

It was the kind of love that tortured poets mused over. Ribs straining against a heavy heart.

Ellie had deluded herself, as any love drunk person does, that she wouldn’t dissolve into a puddle on the floor if she were to meet you. She could keep her cool- downplay the crushing significance you held in her life. Your voice was constantly ringing in her ears. She could see your face in perfect clarity any time she closed her eyes. Pictures like snapshots played out behind her eyelids, and yet you always felt a million miles away for her. You were a perfect performer, situated on your sky-high pedestal, always out of her puny reach.

Because Ellie, as much as she despised this fact and dreamed of greatness, was a nobody. She grew up in a tiny town of no noteworthiness, her adolescent years spent dreaming about the planets and playing guitar with Joel. By all accounts Ellie was normal, while you were certainly not. Still, she liked to tell herself that she’d somehow manage to make herself worthy of your affections if she were ever to be blessed with them.

Finding herself in a situation like this seemed like an impossibility. She was partially convinced that she was daydreaming, having concocted some elaborate fantasy just to feed the insatiable ache. She was starved for you with no way to feed herself.

All it had taken was a single audition tape. One. Single. Tape. Ellie was staring, wide eyed, at Gene fuckin’ Murray.

The blood rushed from her head, hands breaking out instantaneously into a clammy sweat. She couldn’t think, couldn’t function at the realization that she was staring at one of the people that she had worshiped for years. Gene’s talent had been praised by the likes of Lars Ulrich and Danny Carey. He wasn’t popular just for his looks but for his undeniable talent.

And he was staring straight at Ellie, arms crossed over his toned chest as he waited expectantly. She felt like an idiot. Should she be playing? If so, what did they want her to play? Surely one of their songs. She’d glossed past the fact that she was a megafan, instead making it sound like she was just looking for a successful band to join. She was talented. No, Ellie was really talented.

She wasn’t just a technical player, but excelled at making her own rules. She enjoyed the creative freedom that playing the guitar granted, and felt as though the world needed more Jimi’s and Van Halen’s. Ellie excelled at thinking outside of the box.

She wasn’t very successful when it came to women, but had no problem making her guitar scream and cry for her.

So she took a deep breath and tried to steady her heart, once again stepping up to the mic. If there was one thing that all of your bandmates had in common, it was the attitude. She’d watched hundreds of interviews, had studied all of their movements and mannerisms. . .she understood you down to a science.

“So do you want me to play or what?” Ellie spoke into the mic, gripping the neck of the guitar in the hopes that it might act as an anchor. She was scared that she might float away.

The manager’s eyebrows twitched at her sudden change in attitude but he didn’t say anything, merely turned to look at Gene. For a second everyone just stared at her, like a bug under a microscope. After what felt like five minutes but was really just five seconds, Gene broke out into a grin, motioning to her with a flick of his wrist. He wasn’t confident in her, Ellie could tell.

She had a sweet face, she knew that. Big green eyes and freckles- she was unsuspecting. People were usually shocked to find out that she had wrestled competitively in high school and had no problem putting a man three times her size on his ass. People expected very little from her, and perhaps that was part of Ellie’s real charm.

“What song?” She was staring at Gene now, gripping her guitar pick between two sweat-slick fingers.

“What ‘bout ‘Sometime Soon’? Know that one?” His tone was teasing. Condescending.

The song was fast paced. It was supposed to be played loud and hard- one of your angrier songs. Ellie knew that you had been the one to write this one, meaning it was one of her favorites. The notes weren’t beginner friendly, but it wasn’t exactly hard for her.

It was more style, less technical ability- which meant that Ellie would have no problem making this song her bitch.

It was obvious that Gene was the one meant to judge her. The manager was just that- a manager. They needed an actual musician to listen in. So she took a deep breath and readied herself. . .

and then the sound of your singing voice blasted into the booth. Drums, bass- she was meant to play with you.

She almost missed her que, eyes widening in nervousness. She thought that she’d be playing all by her lonesome. She thought wrong it would seem. They’d started her off right in the middle of the song. Probably to throw her off. She jumped in, fingers sliding along the frets to shape out the correct notes. She tucked her guitar pick against the palm of her hand with her thumb, using the pads of her fingers to tap the strings. Faster. Faster. Faster. She didn’t look up from her guitar to look at the men’s reactions to her playing. Instead she just pretended she was standing in the living room of her apartment, hellbent on getting another noise complaint from the bitchy nextdoor neighbor.

Her calloused fingers pinched the strings, satisfied with the way the guitar whined over the speakers. The guitar solo in this song was meant to be impressive- and it was, she had to give it to Leon. A lot of it was just bullshitting though. He’d admitted that he came up with the solo in the actual sound booth off of the top of his head while they were recording the song.

The man was a god. He deserved “guitarist of the year” two years in a row. Ellie had the Los Angeles native beat though. Where he had grown up in the constant presence of “the greats”, Ellie had grown up in a constant state of boredom. She’d been playing the guitar since she was fourteen. Every day she’d sit down for hours and practice until her fingers bled. . . literally. She had thousands of hours on Leon, and she knew that with certainty.

Ellie moved the guitar up and down gently with her fret hand, prolonging the last note so that it cried the way she wanted it to. The muscles in her arms were sore from how hard she had been tensing during the song. She’d been a lot more mechanical about it than she was used to, but she had something to prove.

After a second she looked up from her guitar to gauge everyone’s reactions. The manager had dropped his cold and indifferent demeanor, instead flashing her a small smile. It bolstered her, gave her the strength to turn and look at Gene.

He still had his arms crossed over his chest, and for a second Ellie was sure that he would tell her that she sucked. She widened her stance, shuffling her feet so that she was in a more defensive position. His heated gaze made her feel as though she needed to protect herself from whatever mental anguish he was about to put her through.

“I thought she was kick ass,” Gene finally spoke up, giving Ellie a small thumbs up. Her face lit up into a wide smile before she could school her reaction into one of indifference. “What do you think? You’re the one that calls all the shots.” He spoke behind him, looking down at someone that had been hidden on the couch all along.

Ellie squinted her eyes, taking a step closer to the glass to see if there was another businessman she’d somehow overlooked.

She saw your hair before she saw anything else. It was freshly dyed, different than the last she’d seen you in all of the recent tabloid photos. You were clad in leather- pants so tight that they looked like a second skin. Your top was just as restrictive, breasts spilling out from the top, midriff revealed to show off the small silver piercing you had decorating your belly button.

You were Hecate in the flesh- dark, sinister, mysterious and capable of anything. Ellie didn’t think that it would be possible, but you were even prettier in person. The sight of you sent a shock through her system, and for a second she felt her knees quiver, as if she could no longer hold up the weight of her own body. Her insides turned to mush; white, hot mush.

The Stendhal syndrome: Ellie had been brought to the very precipice of existence by sight alone. She was so overcome by your mere existence that she felt her eyes begin to well up with tears. Body trembling, eyes locked on to your face and nothing else- it felt like she might faint. She remembered reading about the syndrome once before in an art history class she took in college.

“Absorbed in the contemplation of sublime beauty. . . I reached the point where one encounters celestial sensations.”

The urge to flee was just as great as the urge to get her hands on you was. She was thankful for the wide stance she was currently in, because if her legs had been any closer together then she was positive she would have lost her balance and fallen over.

You were right there in front of her. You’d been right in front of her the entire time, she’d just been so focused on Gene that she hadn’t even seen you in her panic. She stumbled forward, her sneakered foot catching the jack for the amp. She slapped her hands over her ears as a blood curdling screech began blaring over the speakers.

Ellie could have died. In fact. . . she just might. She dropped her guitar roughly on the ground as she raced over towards the amp, fingers shaking as she turned the knob to the volume.

The booth, once again, was silent. Silent enough to hear a pin drop. Slowly she turned, grimacing when she noticed the looks on everyone’s faces. She’d embarrassed herself and ruined her chance. Even worse was the fact that she’d humiliated herself in front of you.

She had somehow deluded herself into believing that the two of you were soulmates over the years. She’d compared your birth charts, life numbers- had taken multiple celebrity compatibility tests. All signs pointed to a resounding yes. The two of you were star crossed lovers, cursed to never know one another. She had told herself that if she were ever to bump into you in person that she’d be able to keep her cool. Ellie was certain that she could pretend that she didn’t know who you are- could downplay the significance that you held

Her ignorance was laughable. She’d been so overcome by your mere presence that she’d stumbled on air while standing completely still. You were standing up straight now, and even from her spot behind the thick glass she could tell how much taller you were than her. You had to be wearing heels or platforms, because according to Google you were-

“You know how many auditions we’ve listened to today?” You had grappled the mic from the tech and were now hunched over his soundboard, the lights from all of the buttons and knobs casting strange, beautiful shadows over your face. Your eyeliner was dark and smoked out around your eyes, and in that moment Ellie wondered if you were an angel or a demon. “Twelve. Twelve fuckin’ people have walked into that booth today. Every single one of them has been absolute shit. So bad, in fact, that I’ve wanted to blow my fuckin’ brains out in this buildings tiny, piss-stained bathroom.”

Ellie blanched, lips losing their pink color as the blood drained from her face. She was about to pass out. Her vision was already starting to tunnel. She grabbed onto one of the microphone stands to hold herself up, trying to keep her expression hard and unreadable. People often told her that she had “dead eyes”, and she could only pray that her face wasn’t giving her crushing grief away. It felt like someone had just died; like she had just died. Actually, she would have rather you just go ahead and stab her then tell her she sucked. You were her idol, her dream girl, her everything.

And you were telling her that you’d rather blow your fucking brains out then listen to her play. How was she supposed to recover from this? She’d heard the saying “don’t meet your heroes” a thousand times, but this? She’d rather you just be a bitch to her. Actually, Ellie would probably like that. This was the worst thing she could have ever heard. Her nose twitched as tears began pooling in her eyes. She blinked a few times, praying that you couldn’t tell in the nearly pitch black room you were standing in.

“But this?” You turned towards your manager and pointed passionately at Ellie. “This is music.”

Breath left her lungs in a loud, audible whooshing sound, like a balloon deflating. Her shoulders relaxed, the hand that was white knuckling the mic stand falling limp at her side. No, you didn’t hate her. You liked her.

You liked her.

Everyone had their vices. Leon’s had, apparently, been copious amounts of prescription drugs- often consumed simultaneously. You were used to getting what you wanted. You drank whenever you wanted to, fucked just about anyone that peaked your interest and got away with your usual rotten antics and bitchy behavior. You lived the lifestyle that you’d always dreamt of, even when you were a little kid.

You enjoyed putting on shows. You were flamboyant, loud, and weren’t afraid of expressing yourself. Teachers often described you as a “free thinker” back in your elementary school days. You dressed yourself for school each morning, each outfit louder and more daring than the next. You were an artist, and like most artists you had some inner demons that you fought against. You still fought tooth and nail, even to this day.

Finally though, after what felt like a thousand years of waiting and biding your time, you had the life you had always yearned for.

You sold out arenas, appeared on the front page of just about every magazine imaginable, and had celebrities clamoring over themselves to be your “best friend” of the week. Things were good.

But also a bit empty.

The friends that you’d made in your youth only used your name for bragging rights. Your parents had stopped showing up to concerts years ago, instead choosing to listen about your successes through their shitty television shows. Life felt a bit hollow.

Exciting. . . just different than you had always been used to.

“Come play with us.” One of the women whined from her spot on your plush hotel mattress. The bombshell blonde was already stripped down to her underwear, her eyes glazed over from whatever overpriced alcohol she’d already taken from the suite's bar, at your expense no doubt.

Your manager was used to the up-charges on the company card. He would probably be relieved in the morning when he found out that you didn’t break anything. There was still time for that, of course. It was only one in the morning, which meant you had nine more hours to get fucked up and wreck the cushy room.

“I’m not feeling up to it right now.” You said simply, already disinterested in the two women you had invited to bed with you tonight. You were holding a beer bottle loosely between two of your fingers, swishing the remainder of the room temperature alcohol absentmindedly.

You weren’t much of an “observer” when it came to sex, more of a very active participant. Still, all you could do was sit back in one of the comfortable lounge chairs, muscles tense after a long show. You weren’t exactly sure why you’d invited the women back to the hotel. They were both attractive and had come onto you at the same time. It was obvious what they had been insinuating, and who were you to deny two beautiful women? The first thing that had popped into your head being “a threesome might make me happy”.

Except now you were bored out of your skull and would much rather be sleeping right now than watch two ditzy girls clumsily fondle each other’s fake breasts.

“Please? I want you to fuck me so bad-” There was a knock at the door, causing both girls to go silent for a second.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, exhaustion threatening to swallow you up whole. If it was your manager here to yell at you for “accidentally” breaking an amp at tonight's show you were going to scream. It was too late for that bullshit. Still, you saw this excuse as a blessing.

“Hear that, ladies? Looks like we’ve gotta pack it up. Thanks for showing me a good time.” You stood up from the seat with a small groan, placing your beer bottle onto the counter clumsily. The glass clattered, almost spilling all over the shag carpet.

The two girls groaned, obviously frustrated that they hadn’t successfully gotten you into bed with them. You weren’t sure what was wrong with you lately. If this had happened a few months ago then. . . well, you would have fucked them- no questions asked. Were you maturing out of your “wild and crazy” phase? No, you didn’t think so.

You bent down, scooping up a discarded bra so that you could toss it onto the bed. Fabric rustled behind you as they began to quickly sort themselves out, hoping to beat you to the door.

“Who is it?” You called out in a sing-song voice, deciding that if your manager was already angry enough to show up in front of your door at one in the morning then you might as well have a little fun with it.

There was no reply on the other side of the door, causing you to scoff. He was giving you the silent treatment. You reached out for the door handle, only to have your shirt yanked on by one of the women. You could hear the seams ripping against the weight of her, her eyes wide with desperation.

“Please let me show you a good time. I promise I’m good- I swear.” There was a fear of rejection there, you could tell.

You felt a bit guilty and were quick to lean in to press a kiss on her cheek. “Baby, you’re gorgeous. I’m sure you would have been wonderful- but I’m tired. That’s all, okay? It’s nothing personal.”

And with that you opened the door. The air from the hallway was brisk, causing goosebumps to instantly break out on your bare arms and legs. You were expecting the balding, bespectacled Barry to be standing on the other side of the door, all in a huff about “expenses” and “damages to the venue”. Blah, blah, blah.

Instead it was Ellie. A very broken looking Ellie.

The girls were quick to straighten out their outfits, their attention now turned towards the guitarist. Groupies like this didn’t care who they slept with, just so long as they were getting it in with someone that was in the band.

“You’re Emma. . . right? The new guitarist? You were so great tonight. I mean- Leon was always a bit of a poser anyway. You’re killing it.” One of the girls started, moving to stand next to you in the doorway.

You weren’t sure why, but you felt angry. Genuinely angry. Were you jealous of Ellie? No, because you were sure they would still rather fuck you than her. You’d been their first choice, afterall. Maybe you felt the need to shelter Ellie a bit? Yeah, that had to be it. She was still learning the ropes, and the last thing she needed was to be sexually harassed in a hotel hallway.

“. . . -lie” She was mumbling under her breath, eyes locked on the expensive carpet beneath her ratty old sneakers.

She had changed out of her stage clothes and put on jeans and a t-shirt. Her hair looked wet too, meaning she’d already taken a shower. She smelled earthy- Alpine, even.

You leaned against the frame, slamming your hand against the doorway to box the two women in, hoping to keep them away from the newbie. They flinched but both seemingly weren’t off put in their newfound pursuit.

“You’re the most talented guitarist I’ve ever seen live. I mean. . . your solos were incredible.” You hadn’t managed to successfully remember the girl’s names. Just that they were friends with two guys that had worked security for the venue tonight. People often took advantage of connections like that in order to get close to you and your bandmates. It usually worked too. Tonight was different though. Tonight you had a real stick up your ass.

Ashley? Amber? Sophie? God, you were bad with names.

“. . . -is Ellie.” Your guitarist mumbled again, slowly moving back down the hall in the direction of her suite.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion over her attitude, and you were quick to stumble out of your room and down the hall after her.

“Wait! Emma, can we get an autograph!” One of the half naked girls called after the two of you, trying desperately to shrug on her shirt to follow after.

Ellie turned then, eyes narrowed and teeth bared. You’d. . . You’d never seen her like that before.

“My name is fucking Ellie! Who is Emma? Jesus fuckin’ Christ-” She dug her hand into the back pocket of her jeans, trying desperately to find her keycard.

The girls gasped at her outburst, jostled by the look of pure evil on her face. Even you were taken aback, not used to this kind of attitude from her. Still, you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t know why she was acting like this.

Ellie was what some would call a “mega fan”, though that would be putting it lightly. The word “stalker” would be more appropriate. Your manager knew that before he even messaged her for an audition. He’d checked all of her social media sites and scrubbed the internet for anything he could find on her. One thing was made very clear:

Ellie was obsessed with you.

For whatever reason she seemed to be keeping it a secret from Gene and Chris. All she fessed up to them was that she enjoyed your music, which was why she’d auditioned in the first place. She’d conveniently left out the dedicated fan blogs and the status of her cult-like following.

You didn’t mind it. Sure, it was a bit creepy. . . but she was talented and you liked her. She could hold her own against Gene and Chris’ constant asshole behavior, and had been receptive to Barry trying to teach her the ropes of the business. It was obvious that she wanted this, even if her motives weren’t exactly purely for the music. You’d let her be as close to you as she wanted if it meant that she’d continue playing the way that she does. The crowd had loved her, and it was only her second show with the band.

She was a bit shy, but that would pass eventually. You remember your early debut days vividly. You’d been just like her, maybe even a little worse.

“Hey, stop for a second.” You reached out to grab her wrist, stopping her from fleeing after her outburst. She turned to glare at you, but her eyes softened as she took in your features.

You could feel her arm trembling in your grasp, so you gently let go. No matter how many times you touched her or spent time with her, she still seemed to get overly nervous in your presence. It was endearing.

“Aren’t you a bit busy? Don’t let me ruin your fun-” She was being sarcastic.

“I was done with them by the time you knocked on the door. They aren’t exactly my type. I’m not sure why I even invited them back in the first place.” If you had to guess, you’d probably done it out of habit. You were used to inviting people back to your room or tour bus.

Ellie didn’t seem pleased by your answer. If anything it seemed to upset her even more. She bristled, reaching back into her pocket for her keycard. What did she want to hear? That you hadn’t touched them? You groaned, wiping an exhausted hand down your face.

The elevator dinged behind you, meaning the girls had finally taken the hint and were leaving with their tails tucked between their legs.

“Are you jealous or something?” You asked once the elevator doors were closed. The last thing you needed were the girls trying to sell information to some shitty gossip magazine.

She froze, eyes going wide and lips going pale. It was almost like she didn’t think that you knew all about her dirty little secret. A part of you wanted to tease her. Really make her squirm.

“Why would I be jealous? Those girls weren’t exactly my type either.” She was good at playing things off. Ellie was a good liar.

But you were good at sniffing out the bullshit. It was one of your many talents.

“Not of me,” You leaned against the wall next to her door, watching with curious eyes as she began fumbling in her pockets for her key. “Of them. Do you wish I had taken you back to my room or something?” You cooed flirtatiously, flashing her one of your most sinister smiles.

She coughed, turning around so that she could hide her face from you. This nearly had you groaning out loud in disappointment. Was she blushing? Do her freckles look even brighter when her skin gets all pink and hot?

Nah, it was dangerous to think like this. Band members were always off limits. It was a recipe for disaster. The last thing you needed was another Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham situation on your hands. Your PR team wouldn’t be able to recover. They’d just barely gotten over the “Leon” incident by the skin of their teeth.

Your old band member having to be tackled by three cops in a hotel lobby was horrible. It made you look sloppy. And sleeping with the brand new edition to the band was definitely sloppy.

“You’re acting crazy.” Ellie told you, shoving the keycard into the lock so that she could clammer into her room.

Pushing the boundaries was sort of your thing. You enjoyed being bad, fuck the consequences. Right about now you wanted to kiss Ellie. What would her reaction be? Was she a good kisser? You wanted to know. No- you needed to know.

“You’re right. I’m talking nonsense, don’t listen to me,” You called after her into the room. “Sweet dreams.”

And with that you sauntered back to your own room, practically purring in delight over the fact that it had been that easy to get to Ellie like that. You loved pushing the boundaries. . . and now you had a new toy to play with.

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weirdgenetic-fuckup · 7 months

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Using Safe Words - Metallica pt.1

A/n: Basically just scenario's where a safe word is used and how Metallica members would react. This is only James, Lars and Kirk, if you'd like to the bassists or other bands even let me know :3

Link to part 2

Warnings: Smut, angst, use of a safe word, rough sex, sex toys, if you think you won't be comfortable reading that that's fine protect yourself before reading content :3 Also, if there's anything you think I missed let me know!

James had you bent in half on the couch. He had had a rough day at the studio, everyone was just on his ass and in his face and it was driving him crazy, so when he got home you offered to help him destress. Only you hadn’t anticipated this...

Don’t get me wrong, James was always on the rougher side of things but this was pushing it. He’d been manhandling you and pulling more orgasms out of you than your body could take at this point. It didn’t matter how sensitive you were, how weak or overstimulated you were, James just didn’t stop and your begs and pleads only seemed to fuel his need for dominance.

His hips were slamming against your at an unholy as he held your knees to your chest. “Fuck, pretty little slut, barely keeping your eyes open?” Your eyes were rolling back, your brain was practically useless at this point and you were shaking uncontrollably underneath James. James slapped you across the face, hard. You cried out but he didn’t care and did it again. “Fucking look at me when I’m railing you.” He ordered.

“Ja-Jamie, Jamie, please!” You sobbed, tears streaming down your red face. “Can’t-can’t take it, please!”

“Whiny whore.” He groaned, slapping you again. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Pumpkin.” You sputtered, your voice was weak and he barely heard it. James laughed and stared down at your weak form.

“What was that? Gotta speak up, bitch.”

“Pum-pumpkin, please, pumpkin!” You sobbed, tossing and turning. James froze, any cold demeanour he had vanished in an instant.

“What was that?” He asked, his voice now basically a whisper. You didn’t respond and just continued sobbing. James slowly pulled out and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you onto his lap. “Baby, I’m so sorry.” He littered kisses all over your face, soft and gentle ones. He wiped the tears from your eyes and held you close. “I’m so, so sorry, love, how about I run you a nice warm bath, yeah? Then we can watch a movie or something, how does that sound?” You gave a small nod and he carried you to the bathroom.

He never let go of you while he got the bath ready, sprinkling in smelling salts, lighting a few candles and even adding in rose petals. Fake ones he was saving for a special occasion but he felt you needed them now more than anything.

“Do you want me to get leave?” He asked once he got you in the tub. You shook your head.

“Just-just hold me.” Your voice was still shaky as you mumbled. “Please.” James smiled and got in with you, pulling you close to his chest. He continued to whisper praises and apologise in your ear, pressing soft kisses all over your face and asking if you’re ok.

Lars was always a dick. He’d refuse to let you cum or make you cum so much you couldn’t remember your own name. Then there’d be times when he would only focus on his own pleasure and completely disregard whether you finished or not. Usually, this was just to annoy you, rile you up and what not, plus there’d always be days when he was just perfect for you, making sure everything was just right. He’d have his moments, for sure.

Today was nothing like anything he’s put you through. He’d just come back from a tour with Metallica and said he was all pent up. Of course you understood, you’d been feeling just the same, and so you ended up in the bedroom.

Your wrists and ankles were tied to the bedposts. Lars had two vibrators in either of your holes, with one perfectly pressed against your clit. Lars was pistoning himself in and out of your mouth, not caring if you could breathe or not. You were gagging, not necessarily because of him but just because you needed air, he didn’t care either way, he just enjoyed the noises coming from you like sweet music to his ears.

“Fuck, so good for me.” Lars moaned out, throwing his head back in pleasure. Your whole body was hot and tight, not in the usual way. The high speed vibrations, the stretch you never welcomed, Lars standing over you and being unable to even try to move through all of it just made everything hurt. Painful, is what it was.

You tried to choke something out but the words couldn’t form around Lars. “Oh, I’m sorry, what was that?” He asked with a grin, pulling out enough for you to talk.

“Please, just-” You didn’t get a chance to finish as Lars slammed himself right back past your lips. Again you gagged while he cackled above you. You pulled and thrashed against the restraints but every move just made the feelings down below so much worse.

Lars pulled out again, still snickering. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, you wanna try again?” He asked, you knew he’d just do it again so you blurted out the only thing you thought could get him to stop.

“Pump-!” Again he cut you off. This time his laughter was short-lived when he processed what you were trying to say.

“Wait, what?” He asked, moving completely off of you. He held your face as he always did, caressing your cheek.

“Pumpkin, please, pumpkin!” You sobbed, writhing at the pain coursing through you. Lars immediately panicked, rushing to take everything off and out of your. As soon as you were able to, you pushed yourself to the corner of the bed, curling in on yourself as you cried, trying to forget what you just experienced.

Lars came up behind you, wrapping his arms around you tightly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think it was that bad.” His voice was soft and a little shaky. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why-why would you-would you do that to me?” You asked through quiet sobs. He shook his head, nuzzling against you.

“I didn’t-I don’t-I just-” He started and stopped his sentences before just giving up. “I’m so, so sorry, love.” He held you a little longer before getting up and walking out of the room. He returned a few minutes later with a cloth and started wiping you down. The cloth was coarse and rough against you. You snatched it out of his hand and started cleaning yourself off in a more delicate fashion. “I’m sorry, can I just-” He reached for it again but you turned away from him. He gave a small nod and went to the closet.

You watched him dig through the clothes, tears making your vision a little blurry and you couldn’t stop sniffling. Lars came back to you, standing beside the bed and holding out clothes for you to take. One of his band shirts and a pair of his sweats. You looked between him and the clothes in his hands for a moment before taking them and slowly getting them on. “My body hurts.” You muttered, voice shaky.

“I’m sorry.” He said again. “I can set up a movie for us? A bubble bath? Whatever you want.” You thought about it for a moment before giving a small nod.

“A movie sounds nice.” Lars smiled at you and rushed off to set up a movie for the two of you in the living room.

A few weeks ago Kirk had brought up the idea of having a threesome to which you immediately turned down, that was not up your alley at all. Kirk dropped it when he saw how much you disliked the idea and for a while you thought that was the end of it.

Kirk brought you on tour with him, it was just for a week for his birthday and you intended to spend as much time with him as you could during his special day. The two of you finally had some alone time in your hotel room and were watching a movie, he kept touching up your leg and teasing you a bit, so you decided to indulge and have some fun.

You were straddling his lap, your tongues exploring each other’s mouth as you interchanged moans and groans. Kirk’s hands were roaming your body, groping your ass. He’d have his hands on your hips and pull you down while grinding the tent in his pants against you, drawing more sounds out of the both of you.

Everything was fine until you heard a deep groan that didn’t sound anything like Kirk, plus it was coming from the other side of the room. You pulled away, Kirk went to kiss your neck, sucking and licking at the sensitive skin. You glanced over your shoulder and saw James in a chair not far away with his cock in his hand, slowly stroking it up and down.

Fear shot through you and you pushed yourself off of Kirk, looking between him and the lead singer. “What the fuck?!”

“What?” Kirk asked, looking genuinely concerned for you. “You said no threesome so I figured James could just watch.” He explained. You can hear it in his tone that he’s doubting the idea as he says it. You opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out. With no verbal disagreement Kirk leaned over to you again and kissed you. You slapped him. He didn’t look confused or hurt, just a little sad that he made you uncomfortable.

“Fucking pumpkin! I told you when you brought it up the first time, why would this be ok?!” He didn’t say anything and just looked down at the sheets. You scoffed and stormed out of the room and into the bathroom, taking a moment to breathe and just get yourself calmed down.

Several minutes pass and you hear a knock on the door. “Sweetheart?” Kirk called, his voice soft. “Can I, uh, can I come in?” You waited a moment before opening the door, holding yourself and pouting at him. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told James that it was ok without talking about it with you.”

“You shouldn’t have even talked to him about it knowing that I wasn’t comfortable with stuff like that!” You argued. Kirk nodded and looked down again.

“Look, why don’t you take the bed and-and I’ll sleep in the tub.” He suggested, even taking a step around you to get to the small bath.

“Why would you do that?”

“I figured, you know, you wouldn’t want to share a bed with me after-” He paused and took a seat on the edge of the bath. “After that.” He sighed, running a hand over his face. “I’m sorry, it was really dumb, I promise it won’t happen again.” You nodded and sat beside him, resting your head on his shoulder.

“I still want you to sleep in bed with me.” You reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers together. “Sleep isn’t the same when I know I can’t steal your blankets.” You smiled up at him.

“I think I’d prefer the tub.” He chuckled. Kirk pulled you closer and kissed your forehead.

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mustainegf · 2 months

Note

Ok so you and james are out with friends and you are sitting on his lap and he absentmindedly starts bouncing his leg but in the way you are sitting it's stimulating you a little to much and when he realises he starts doing it on purpose and you know the rest 😉

AGH THIS IS SUCH A GOOD REQUEST I LOVE THIS

𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 ¹⁹⁹³

It was Friday night and my boyfriend and I had gone out with his friends. There was Jason and Kirk, and then Lars tagged along too. We all ended up at a bar, and I was sitting on his lap, just because there weren’t any available chairs and I didn’t want to stand the whole night. But, honestly, I didn’t mind sitting on his lap.

“Hey, Kirk, get another round.” Jason called, raising his empty beer glass.

“Sure thing, Jase.” Kirk said, nodding. “Anyone else need another?”

“Yeah, I do.” I replied.

“Alright, and what about you?” Kirk asked James.

“What kinda question is that?” he chuckled, giving that toothy grin. “Get me another.”

Kirk just rolled his eyes, chuckling and walked to the bar. Lars was talking to this random girl at the table next to us and it sounded like he was hitting on her. Like usual.

After a few minutes, Kirk came back with the beers, and James reached forward, taking his, and then mine.

“Here you go.” He said, handing it over.

“Thanks, baby.” I said, smiling, taking a sip.

I felt his leg start moving. Like he was tapping his foot. I looked down at his leg. It wasn’t really a big deal. Just an occasional tap, tap, tap. So I went back to drinking my beer and laughing with Jason.

But then I noticed it started feeling a little different. Like it was…rubbing against me. Between my legs. Oh my god. I tried to ignore it. He didn’t seem like he was doing it on purpose, and I didn’t want to be a buzzkill.

I tried my best to stay unfazed. I kept laughing and joking and making conversation. I didn’t want to give him a reason to stop, because I was starting to enjoy it a little bit. It was just a gentle rub. Not really fast or aggressive or anything.

Then he stopped. Oh god, he had stopped. I felt like I was being deprived. I wanted him to keep going. But I knew I couldn’t ask him, because he probably thought I wouldn’t want him to do that in a public place. And I wouldn’t have, but it had felt good.

But then he started again. I couldn’t help but squeeze my thighs together a little bit. The friction of his leg against me felt better when I did that. It was almost like it was massaging me a little bit.

And then he started going faster. Not by a lot. Just slightly. And I felt myself getting a little wetter. This was so naughty. I had never done anything like this before, and I liked it.

I heard him laugh behind me and I looked back at him, but he just winked at me and took a sip of his beer. Oh my god. He knew what he was doing.

I felt myself get wetter and wetter as he kept doing it. I had to squeeze my thighs together more, and he was doing it faster now. Oh my god.

I think I might cum. Right here. In the bar. On his lap. Shit. I had to keep myself from moaning.

I just kept laughing and talking with Jason, trying not to show that he was driving me crazy right now.

Then he stopped again. What the fuck did he think was he doing?

But then he started snickering to himself. I knew that he knew. He knew that he was turning me on. So, I gently squeezed his thigh with my hand. That’s a yes. Please don’t stop.

I heard him let out a little snicker again. Then he started again.

Harder this time. It was so good. I was so close, but I couldn’t cum. Not in a bar. That was just not gonna fly with me. I’d have to wait until we got home.

Then he stopped again, and I let out a little sigh of frustration.

He leaned forward, resting his chin on my shoulder, and whispered into my ear.

“Want me to finish that job for you when we get home?” he asked, winking.

I nodded, blushing a little. I whispered. “But you have to make me cum with your mouth first…” I heard him let out a low growl. I smiled.

“Yeah, that sounds fucking perfect.” He replied. I giggled at his dirty mouth.

The guys were looking at us, clearly annoyed that he was leaving them.

“James, what’s wrong?” Kirk asked.

He stood up and helped me down. “Oh, the beer here’s alright.” He said, grinning. “But I’ve got something better to taste at home.” He winked at me.

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dumbassaimee · 24 days

Text

Hi! I’m back I was suffering from lack of motivation 😞

Summary: you’re babysitting his daughter, after suffering from a recent divorce he needed help to look after his kid as he’s at the studio often, though recently he’s asked you to stay longer.

Warnings: cheating, smut, hair pulling, degrading and praising

————————————————————————

It was a long day of babysitting his daughter Cali, though Cali was an easy child I still got a bit tired of running around and keeping the little girl entertained.

It was around 11:36PM, I had just put Cali to sleep, now having to wait until James came back, something off putting about James was that he’s been making me stay longer always trying to convince me.

Especially when he’s home too, I’m not sure what this is all about.

Thinking about it made my head spin with thoughts, then I heard the front door open then slamming the door behind him, James arrived.

Probably pissed at something hearing how heavy his footsteps were being that wasn’t a good sign.

“How was the studio?” I asked trying to make a little convo between us maybe to lighten up his mood.

“Shit.” He responded and went straight to the kitchen to grab a beer, typical.

“I mean Lars was being a dick, then I broke one of my guitars string, then I got pulled over from driving too fast!” He continued with his complaint of the day.

“That bad huh?” I chuckled

“Yeah easy for you to say, you didn’t go through this shit day” he scoffed and walked back to the living room, plopping down on the couch next to me with a soft thud.

“You’re right, my bad” I smiled and shrugged, knowing that arguing with this man wouldn’t go anywhere because of how stubborn he is.

After a moment of silence he decided to break it, “how was Cali? Gave you any trouble?” That was all he asked since seeing that his little girl wasn’t running around meant that she was asleep. mind as well ask about how she was throughout the day.

“She was good today, we went to the park and got some food together” I told him about our little day together as I kept my eyes on the TV.

I was getting really into the show that was playing, I didn’t know what it was but it was really interesting—well that stopped my thoughts as I felt his rough hand grab mine.

I didn’t say a word just looked down to see him scanning my hand.

“Who gave you this ring?” He asked looking at the silver ring on my middle finger.

“…My boyfriend Jackson gave it to me” speaking cautiously since I don’t know where this is going..

“Boyfriend huh?..” he paused his fingertips felt gentle on my skin “does he treat you well?” He glanced up at me.

“Uhm…yeah, he’s a good guy” I nodded to support my statement.

“Right…does he make you feel real good?” He suddenly asked, it caught me completely off guard—I tried to speak but words didn’t come out, I mean Jackson wasn’t a bad guy but it wasn’t like he was good enough with the sex and affection. he let out a chuckle “I take that as a ‘no’ then sweetheart”

Before I knew it he leaned in and kissed my forehead gently, lowering his lips close to my ear and he whispered to me “Y’know I can make you forget anything about him.”

Those words switched something in me I didn’t know I had—I don’t know what this man does to a person but he has me completely.

Building up the courage I kissed him—taking the hint he kissed me back his hands going to my waist to pull me under him, he wasted no time into unbuttoning my jeans.

Pulling them down with a swift motion, I felt his hand cupping my pussy through the thin fabric covering my sex, I moaned softly into his mouth—he pulled away and started his assault on my neck, his fingers hooked onto the waistband of my panties slapping it on my skin later then pulling them off roughly.

The force of the friction made my skin burn a little but he didn’t seem to had noticed.

“So pretty” he murmured softly, he ran a finger through my slick folds he was being so gentle here taking his damn time.

“James please” I whined, I knew this was cheating, but I needed him I needed something.

It was embarrassing to hear how desperate I was being but I would do whatever it takes to have him..

“James—“ I started to beg again but he cut me off as he shoved two fingers inside my tight cunt—making me gasp.

He groaned at the feeling of my velvety walls clinging onto his two digits, “fuck you’re tight…so wet” he mumbled as he continued to suck and kiss my neck.

Being slow at first for me to get used to it, whimpering softly I whispered the words “faster..” which switched something in him, he almost admittedly started to plunge his fingers in me with force, taking every moan out of me, his fingers curled inside of me, years of playing guitar payed off amazingly.

He continued assaulting my pussy, his free hand lifted my shirt just enough to have access to my breasts, taking one of my sensitive buds into his mouth, swirling his tongue and biting softly against my right nipple—his fingers continued going faster.

I tried closing my legs because he was overstimulating me but he wasn’t having it, his free hand holding my thigh down to keep my legs spread.

He pulled his mouth away from my nipple and looked straight at my ecstatic face.

“Be a good girl and come for me” he cooed, not being able to hold back anymore I coated his two fingers with my sweet essence.

“That’s it…good girl” he pecked my lips, taking his fingers out of me slowly making a soft gasp leave me, he pulled those same fingers up to his mouth licking them clean.

“On fours” he demanded, I couldn’t do anything but obey him at this moment, I turned my body around on my hands and knees, the soft leather of the couch making it more comfortable for me.

I heard him belt come off first and a zipper going down—at least I thought he would’ve give me a warning but James being James—he thrusted forward, first making me take 3 inches..then 3 more until he was balls deep.

I trembled slightly “Please…” I whimpered, I knew this man had no mercy, but In this moment he did have the heart to let me get used to his size, I nodded giving him the hint that he could move, he took no time into moving his hips in a rhythmic pace.

Soft moans and whimpers leaving my mouth as each time he got faster and rougher, “taking me so well…” he praised.

“You like getting fucked by this old man huh?” He scoffed, placing a hand on my asscheek and another on my hip as he picked up the pace.

I couldn’t muster any words, the only thing leaving my mouth were my gasps and moans.

“Answer me.” Speaking strictly at me.. “y..yes” I whimpered

“Good girl.” He sighed, “fuck you feel so good…f’cking slut” he groaned.

My hands eventually gave out, I went on my elbows instead, burying my face onto the couch pillows, he grabbed a handful of my hair pulling my face back up “let me hear ya.” He panted.

“…Mm so close” I gasped out, “fuck yeah…” he whispered “cum for me baby”

“Cum all over my cock.” He fucked me deep and fast, that was enough to make me squeal and reach my orgasm.

Then suddenly feeling his hot cum coating my walls white.

“That’s my girl…” he praised, pulling out of me slowly.

He had me spent, I don’t think I would be able to get up yet.

“You should break up with him” he zipped his jeans back up, looking down at me like if he didn’t just fuck my Brains out.

____________________________________________

Plz send requests if you have any, I would love to keep writing for y’all

Sorry if it’s a bit small, it’s currently 12:38AM and got this idea!

PEACE OUT!

#james hetfield #metallica #minors dni #rockstars #2000s #smut

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cirilla-fiona-riannon · 5 months

Text

Act 4 Prologue (Matias Asbrink)

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies.

At the same time, in Acroite.

Large snowflakes fluttered down like flower petals, painting the traditional stone-built streets white.

The main street, illuminated by street lamps, was bustling with crowds of people. However, there were no troublemakers here, no drunken shouts or fights like in other countries.

In this country, governed by the strictest laws on the continent, those who disturb the peace are quickly apprehended and held accountable for their crimes.

Yet amidst the orderly and well-maintained streets, there was a corner where women gathered unnaturally.

Woman 1: “Please join me at the lovely party I’m having tonight.”

Woman 2: “That’s not fair. Please also come to my party.”

Woman 3: “Where are you off to at this hour? If you’re interested, would you like to join me for dinner?”

Matias: “I have work to attend to. Please excuse me.”

Slipping smoothly out of the midst of the women, with his golden hair gathering the twilight’s glow and snow-shadowed eyes tinged with melancholy, was Matias, the guardian of Acroite’s law.

Though his appearance and demeanor were stern, there was an alluring aura about him that made the women gaze at him dreamily.

Matias: “Haah.”

With a sigh, he casually brushed back his smooth blond hair, eliciting another round of cheers from the women behind him.

A colleague, a judge, then playfully tapped his back as he swiftly walked away to escape their intense stares.

Lars: “Quite the charmer, as always, huh? Matias.”

Pushing up his round glasses, the man smiled teasingly at Matias, and his expression changed to a more relaxed one.

Matias: “Lars, if you saw that, you could’ve helped me.”

Matias: “You know I struggle with women.”

Lars: "I know, but having too many admirers is honestly a problem I envy. I wish I could trade places with you."

Matias: "You wish you could trade places with me? Did you see those women? They had the eyes of warriors determined to annihilate their enemies."

Lars: "I think they were all beauties, though."

Matias: "Whether they're beautiful or not doesn't matter. The only woman I need is my soulmate."

Matias: "She doesn't need to dote on me or stare at me like those women. All she needs to do is wish me luck, fix my tie, give me a kiss, and wave goodbye before I head to work."

Lars: "Yeah, yeah, I get it. I've heard about your embarrassing fantasies more than a hundred times, Matias."

Lars: "Are you alright, though?"

Matias: "I've been saying it since earlier, but I'm not okay. You have to back me up next time."

Lars: "I meant about the trial. The defendant this time is your friend, right?"

Matias: "Ah, yeah. We were roommates for a while back in the Royal Academy. We enlisted together and served in the same unit."

Lars: "You were close then."

Matias: "He was a good guy. Cheerful, smart, and quick-witted. He was good with women too, effortlessly handling situations like earlier."

Lars: "I see. Matias, about that..."

Matias' snow-shadow-colored eyes gaze straight at his colleague, looking somewhat uneasy.

Matias: "It's fine."

Matias: "I'm a man of the Asbrink family."

The Royal Court, which determines the nation’s justice, was filled with a solemn atmosphere tonight.

The defendant and his defense attorney, the government officials prosecuting his crimes, and numerous citizens in the gallery all watched with bated breath as the five judges, especially the guardian of the law, sat atop the judicial platform.

Matias: “I’ll now deliver the verdict on the suspicion of unauthorized leakage of classified Acroite military information.”

Matias: “Defendant, step forward.”

The defendant stepped onto the witness stand.

Though looking severely worn out, his eyes, fixed on the guardian of the law, held a faint glimmer of hope.

It was well known among some circles that the defendant had a friendship with the guardian.

As everyone sought to interpret the meaning behind the intersecting gazes, the sound of the gavel resounded.

Matias: “Death penalty.”

After delivering the merciless verdict, the courtroom fell into a brief silence before erupting into chaos.

Defendant: “Matias, are you really going to kill me!? Me, who ate, slept, and fought alongside you? We're friends, aren't we!?”

Defendant: “You can’t do this!”

While the defendant cried out in despair, Matias appeared entirely unaffected.

Matias: “That does not excuse your crime.”

Defendant: “Isn’t a death sentence too heavy for a single mistake?”

Matias: "The law is justice. If you are a citizen of Acroite, obedience is absolute."

Matias: "All you can do is comply with the verdict that has been passed down."

With a detached voice, Matias continued to gaze directly at the collapsing defendant, seemingly in despair.

Matias: "The execution will be carried out in five days, at noon."

Defendant: "M-Matias..."

As the defendant was taken away, Matias watched them with his snow-shadow-colored eyes.

To dispel the murmurs, he struck the gavel twice.

Matias: "This concludes the session."

As the people left the courtroom in silence, he stood alone.

It was unusual for him to stay in the courtroom after it had adjourned, without a clear reason.

Walking to the spot where the defendant had collapsed during the trial, he gently touched the witness stand with his fingers.

Though his snow-shadowed eyes flickered slightly, he murmured with the same emotionless voice as during the trial.

Matias: "I did the right thing."

Matias: "I'm Matias, the next king of Acroite, a proud man of the esteemed Asbrink family."

Matias: "Until all evil is condemned, I cannot afford to stop."

☆ Ikepri Masterlist

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri spoilers #ikepri jp #ikepri translations #cybird #matias asbrink #ikepri matias

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foxaftershocks · 2 months

Note

saw that you were asking for lars request so here my like idea, like oldest Spengler Daughter (she’s an adult trust chat) like needs to move out of the firehouse and get her own place and lars like offered his place until she finds a permanent place but eventually without even knowing they kinda just become roommates until one of them confesses is when that becomes official? if you can’t write for this i understand it’s just an idea

Here you go Anon!

“I can’t stay there anymore,” you said, stabbing at the buttons on the computer in front of you, “I love my family but they’re driving me crazy.”

Lars looked up. He’d only been half listening as you talked, focused on extracting the ghosts from his collection of items. You weren’t looking at him either, your glare levelled at the screen even as you sighed. He had to admit, you certainly looked frazzled, dark circles under your eyes and a weary set to your shoulders.

“Well, if you need, you can stay with me until you find your own place,” he offered.

He should have thought about it before letting the words come out of his mouth. You perked up, finally looking at him over the top of the computer screen. The hope in your eyes made his lips pull up into a smile and he realised he’d let you move in with him despite knowing it might kill him. He could already see the torture he was in for and yet he thought it might be worth it if you kept smiling like that.

He hated being in love with you when you could never love him back.

“You’d really let me do that?” you asked.

“Sure.” He shrugged like it was no big deal.

“Oh my god,” you squealed, jumping up from your chair, “thank you thank you thank you.”

You flung your arms around his body and he knew you had no idea the turmoil it caused him. On the one hand, feeling you there in his arms was like heaven, on the other, it was like being Tantalus, so close to what he wanted but forever out of reach.

“I’ll help you move this weekend if you want,” he said, sounding gruffer than usual.

“You are the best man I know, Lars Pinfield,” you said.

He wore that compliment for the rest of the day.

On Saturday morning he pulled up out the front of the fire house in his beat up Toyota, trepidation in his heart. It was easy enough to walk in as a member of the team. You were in the kitchen, feet kicking as you sat at the bench while Gary was busy cooking up something that smelt sugary. You brightened when you saw him, perking up.

“You’re here,” you said. Gary turned, raising his eyebrows at him.

“I said I would be,” he replied.

“You sticking around for pancakes?” Gary asked, “they’re chocolate chip.”

His stomach grumbled.

“Please stay,” you said, reaching out a hand to him, tugging on it until he was taking a seat in stool beside you.

“Do you have much to bring down to my car?” he asked.

“Nah, us Spenglers travel light,” you replied, flashing him a bright smile, “the joys of constantly moving.”

“Can you get your sister?” Gary asked.

“PHOEBE!” you shouted towards the staircase.

Lars winced, pressing a hand to the ear closest to you.

“Well, I could have done that,” Gary said, not even slightly phased by it. Then again, he’d been living with you long enough to grow used to it.

“Sorry,” you said to him.

He shrugged it off, fingers twisting together on the bench in front of him. You placed your hands over his, your skin warm against his and butterflies bursting in flight in his stomach. You weren’t even looking at him, already in conversation with Gary about the latest capture. It was hard to know if you were aware of the effect you had on him, but he guessed not.

If the chaos of the pancake brunch was anything to go by, he could understand why you’d been desperate to move out. It was lovely and warm but loud and frantic and while there was so much love it was also overwhelming. Good in small doses but all the time he could see why you needed a break.

The actual process of moving your things into his car took one trip, a couple of boxes, a few bags, not much at all really. You were bright, chattering to him about the book you’d stayed up too late reading the night before and the explosion that came from Phoebe’s room at 2am. He enjoyed the patter, the rhythm of your speech, the way you were so invested in everything you talked about.

And then you were in his flat, looking at all the things he owned. You’d put your bags down on his second hand couch, looking at the photos he had up. He bit back the impulse to ask what you thought about it, wanting to hear what you were thinking and yet equally terrified to hear what you were thinking too. You’d softened, picking up a picture of him with his mother and sister from his last trip home for the holidays, your smile so pretty.

“I’ve uh… I’ve set up the spare room for you. It’s only a pull out couch because I used to use it as a workshop but the door closes so you’ll have your privacy,” he said.

“You’re the best,” you said, turning your attention back on him, “I promise I’ll be out of your hair soon.”

He wanted to tell you not to hurry on his account. But then he thought about all the ways living with you was going to wreck him and he couldn’t bring himself to say it.

Despite your promises, you were still there three months later.

You were on the old couch in nothing but an oversized sweatshirt and a pair of shorts when he rose one Sunday morning. Running his hand through his hair, he paused in the doorway of his room. The thoughts running through his head were not appropriate but he couldn’t stop staring at all the skin on display, your legs stretching out over the cushions. You were scrolling through your phone, a cup of tea clutched in one hand, the steam rising towards your parted lips.

“Morning,” he muttered, shuffling past you.

You looked up, hair tumbling over your shoulders, a smile ready for him. In his own pyjama pants and the old t-shirt from his university days, he felt self conscious. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen him so dressed down, but when you were splayed on the couch looking like you’d stepped right out of his dreams it was hard not to feel self conscious.

“Your tea is steeping,” you said, not even looking up, “hey, what do you think about Queens?”

“For what?” he asked.

“As a neighbourhood to live in,” you replied, “because there’s this place that feels like it’s too good to be true.”

“It probably is then,” he said with a small shrug.

“Yeah,” you sighed.

“Rats and awful neighbours and mold,” he said, tipping sugar into the hot mug.

“And the commute to work,” you groaned.

“Best to just stay here,” he said.

“I promise, I really will get out of your hair soon,” you said.

It was like an ongoing joke between the two of you now. You shifted your legs so he could sit on the other end of the sofa and then immediately placed your feet into his lap. He froze, not quite sure what to do. You still weren’t even looking at him, so easy and free around him. It baffled his mind that you didn’t feel the tension. But of course you didn’t. You weren’t in love with him.

“Do you have any plans today?” you asked, eyes finally flicking up to him.

“Going into the lab?” he said, more of a question than a statement.

“Oh come on, it’s the weekend, Pinfield, let’s do something fun,” you said.

“Such as?”

His hand came down, landing on your ankle, soft skin warm against the palm of his hand. You grinned, slow and lazy, raising the mug to your lips. He felt his breath catch, wondering if you knew exactly how temping you were. He doubted it, and yet there was a twinkle in your eye that meant he couldn’t be sure.

“We could go have a picnic in the park,” you suggested.

He looked to the window, rain lashing the glass. When he turned back, your smile had turned indulgent.

“Alright, maybe not in the park. But we could have one inside,” you said.

“You really want to have a picnic?” he asked.

“You can’t work 24/7. Have some fun with me, Lars.”

Oh god, you were dangerous when you looked at him like that. All hopeful and mischievous and naughty. Like you were convincing him to do something he shouldn’t do. But like he would enjoy it if he agreed. You lent towards him, waiting for his answer.

“And what would we eat on this picnic?” he asked, shifting closer.

“All kinds. I’ll make you a cake,” you offered.

“A cake? Well, how can I say no to that,” he said.

“You can’t,” you replied, sliding closer.

His hand was slipping further up your leg, feeling more skin and you were only pushing into his touch. It was a specific form of torture, being given what he wanted and yet not what he wanted at all.

“I better get on it if I have to make a cake for lunch,” you said.

Your legs slipped from under his hand as you stood and he felt bereft. Then he cursed himself, trying to get his head screwed back on. He didn’t even notice as you slipped into the bathroom, face buried in his cup of tea to avoid staring at you.

Perhaps that’s why he didn’t bother looking out as he crossed the living room. The door for the bathroom was flung open and a warm body ran into his. Catching you around the waist, he found himself stumbling back, tripping over his own feet and landing with a hard oof on the ground. Your weight pressed down on him and he blinked, wondering if he’d hit his head hard enough to begin hallucinating. It certainly felt like he might be with every curve of your body pressed against his.

“Shit, Lars, are you okay?”

You lifted off him, sitting just enough to look down at him. His eyes slammed shut the moment he realised you were in nothing but a towel, clasping in your hand to keep it from falling open and giving him the kind of eyeful that would sustain his fantasies for a good long while. A warm hand cupped his cheek and he let out a pained moan. You had no idea what you were doing to him.

“Lars, please say something so I know I didn’t kill you.” You sounded worried, more worried than you should have.

“I’m okay,” he muttered.

He squinted his eyes open, finding your face still way too close, able to count the freckles that dusted your nose and the eyelashes that framed your beautiful eyes. Your lips pulled up into a smile and he watched a stray water droplet slide over the curve of your shoulder before landing on his shirt, darkening the material. The scent of your soap clung to your skin and he was close enough to be enveloped in it, his head spinning.

Just the feeling of you on top of him was waking him up better than the planned shower would. Or rather, a certain part of his anatomy was waking up.

He pushed you off his body, eyes widening and shame curling in his stomach. He left you there on the floor, not looking back as he locked himself away in the bathroom. Almost hyperventilating, he sunk onto the closed toilet, burying his head in his hands.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” you called.

“Fine,” he called back, strangled and desperate, needing you to leave him alone. He could still feel the ghost of your body pressing against his.

You must have sensed it because you left him alone, not trying to check in again. He sat there long enough for his prick to lose interest before having the coldest shower of his life. Not looking for a repeat of earlier, he climbed back into his pyjamas before slinking into his room to get dressed properly. Jeans and t-shirt. Nice enough. Casual enough. You might not even make fun of him for it.

The first weekend you’d been in his home he’d come out in the clothes he would normally wear to work, tie included. You’d teased him about it but with the kind of fond smile that meant he didn’t care so much. At some point he’d slipped back into how he acted usually at home, despite your continued presence. It was nice. Too nice. It was the highway to heartbreak.

“I’m making chocolate. I hope that’s okay. Everyone loves chocolate cake, right?”

He hadn’t realised you were in the kitchen, back in what looked suspiciously like one of his jumpers and another pair of shorts. You were really killing him. You must know exactly what it was doing to him. You had to. It was beyond a coincidence.

“Chocolate is good,” he replied.

“Good,” you said, smiling at him with a radiance he found spellbinding.

He sat on the couch again, laptop balanced on his knees, trying to ignore the sound of you in the kitchen. If he didn’t he’d just end up watching you and he was aware enough to know that would be considered a level of creepy that was unacceptable. Although then maybe you’d move out sooner and he could go back to not being on edge all the time.

And ruin any chance he might have with you. Which he was growing more certain was nonexistent anyway. But it was the principle of the thing.

“Hey, can you get this for me? I’m not tall enough.”

You were looking at something on the top shelf of the kitchen, both hands on your hips, a smudge of flour on your cheek. He wanted to wipe it off, fingers itching to touch the apple of your cheek.

“Sure.”

Stretching up, he grasped the baking soda, t-shirt riding up as he did. Settling back, he turned to hand it to you, noticing the way your eyes flicked away from him, teeth sunk into your bottom lip. His breath caught, wondering what it would be like to do the same to you, to bite down on that full lower lip, to tug on it, to listen to your breath hitch as he did. Shaking his head, he placed the baking soda down on the counter.

“I’m going to run to the shops,” he said, needing a moment of escape. Clearly the day was doing something to him, “do you need anything?”

“Fresh strawberries, if they have any,” you replied.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he said.

“You manage it and I’ll let you lick the spoon.” You winked at him.

Shrugging into a waterproof coat, he grabbed his umbrella and keys and left you to your baking in the flat. The cold air was like slap in the face, waking him up from the dreamy quality that had come over his home. He didn’t know what it was about you, but it made him lose sense of himself, drifting into you like a blackhole, wanting more than he could ever rightly expect to receive. You weren’t his to want.

And yet…

The shop was mostly empty, leaving him to his thoughts as he stalked the aisles. He had to stop focusing on you, had to get over his crush or else he might be buried by it. Just because you were beautiful and funny and so smart, he had no right to think of you the way he did. He had to stop or it would destroy him.

Returning back to the flat, the smell coming from inside was enough to make his mouth water. He shucked off the cart and hung it up, leaving the umbrella by the door to dry. You brightened as he slid a punnet of strawberries across the counter.

“You’re amazing,” you said and for a moment he thought you might fling your arms around him again.

That might undo him.

“You’ve set up a whole picnic in here,” he said, looking over the living space.

A blanket was spread over the floor, cushions scattered over it, the coffee table pushed to the side. The twinkle lights you’d strung up one weekend just until you moved out were on, reflecting in the window where the sky outside was darkening. A storm was on the way.

“We said we were having an indoor picnic,” you replied, “so I got us ready for an indoor picnic.”

“Right,” he said.

“And I’ve even got the food ready. The cake will be a bit longer and then it has to cool before I can ice it, but we can eat now.”

You moved around the counter on bare feet, your smile enticing as you stepped onto the blanket. He followed, knowing he always would when you were looking at him that way. He was so far gone for you.

You sat down, patting the spot next to you for him to join you. He was slow to lower himself beside you, worried about being close enough to touch.

“I got peanut butter cups from my secret stash for you,” you said.

His heart squeezed painfully.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Are you okay? You seem off,” you said, shuffling closer.

“Fine,” he replied, tightly.

“Have a peanut butter cup.”

Your fingers pressed one to his mouth and he couldn’t say no. Your fingertips brushed his lips and his eyes squeezed closed. And then warm breath puffed against his mouth and his eyes blinked open and you were right there.

“What are you…” he tried to ask.

“Hang on a moment,” you murmured.

Your lips brushed his and he felt the need to pinch himself. He didn’t let himself touch you, worried this was some kind of hallucination from wishing too hard. You drew back and he let himself look at you. There was such trepidation in your expression, worry like you’d done something wrong.

What was he going to do other than reach out and pull you back to him and kiss you like his life depended on it?

You climbed into his lap, knees falling either side of his hips. His hands were on the bare skin of your thighs, fingers digging in as your tongue licked into his mouth, tasting of chocolate and sugar and everything good in the world. He groaned, and your fingers had tangled in his hair and you were everywhere and everything and every dream come true.

“Lars,” you moaned into his mouth and he could hear you say his name over and over again, on repeat, for the rest of his life.

“Wanted this for so long,” you mumbled, pressing open mouthed kisses down the column of his neck.

His head fell back and all he could do was feel the soft skin under his palms and the warmth of your mouth on his neck and the press of your curves against him. He didn’t know what to do with himself with a lapful of you.

“Fuck,” he groaned as you sucked on his skin, teeth nipping at his pulse point.

“Tell me you want this too,” you said into his skin.

“I’ve wanted this since the moment we met,” he said, head tipping back to give you more room.

You kissed him again, and he could only submit to you, thankful he got to be on the receiving end of your kisses. Your fingers tugged on his hair and he groaned, hands sliding up your legs, around your hips, to press into your spine. Your body was held tight against his, and he could just drown in you.

An alarm went off and then he was cold, lap empty of you as you were walking to the kitchen, lips kiss stung and warm skin begging for his hands again. He watched the sway of your hips, trying to cool off but not able to when you looked so delicious. You bent at the waist, pulling the cake out of the oven, and he felt dirty watching you and yet not able to stop himself. You turned, catching him and a slow smile spread over your face.

“Are you checking me out?” you asked, putting the cake down on the cooling rack.

“Yes.” He had no interest in lying.

“Naughty boy,” you said and he liked the sound of it on your tongue.

You lowered yourself into his lap again, arms twining around his neck as his curled around your waist. He loved the feeling of your weight on top of him, a lapful of you like heaven.

“Have you really wanted this since we met?” you asked, not drawing closer to kiss him again much to his disappointment.

“Of course,” he said, “you’re the girl of my dreams.”

“Stop,” you said, shoving at his chest, “really?”

“I think if I wrote a list of everything I’d want in my perfect woman, you’d have all of them,” he said.

“You think you’re so smooth, don’t you,” you laughed.

“I’m just trying to be honest,” he said,

“I can’t believe you offered to let me stay with you,” you said, “I mean, if you already felt this way it must have sucked for you. Just this morning…”

“Why do you think I locked myself in the bathroom for so long,” he replied.

“Were you jerking off?” A delighted laugh fell from your lips even as his cheeks flushed.

“No!” You seemed to find joy in his embarrassment, “not that time.”

“Naughty boy,” you murmured again, leaning forward to kiss him, your tongue in his mouth.

“What about you?” he asked when he came up for air, “I’ve spilled my secrets.”

“Oh I jerk off to thoughts of you all the time,” you said.

He liked the thought of that a lot.

“Do you remember that day in the lab where you looked over my shoulder and corrected my math?” you asked.

“Which time?”

“Asshole.” You swatted at his chest again.

“I do,” he replied, softening at your smile.

“I’ve been falling for you ever since,” you said, “you were so smart. It made me tingly all over.”

“You like when I show off my intelligence?” he asked.

“It’s pretty sexy,” you said.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, leaning up to kiss you again.

He was never going to grow tired of your taste.

“Stop looking for a new place,” he mumbled into your mouth, wanting you on tap all day every day.

“Seriously?” You drew back, refusing to let him kiss you again.

“You already live here. Let’s be honest, this is your home,” he said, “you moved in and I don’t want you to move out.”

“That’s moving pretty fast,” you said.

“We did things backwards. Who cares? Stay. Please. Say you’ll stay.” He knew he was begging but the thought of not having you there made the entire flat feel less like home.

“Alright. We’ll make it official,” you said.

You sealed the deal with a kiss.

#lars pinfield #lars pinfield x reader #lars pinfield imagine #anon #request

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roguerambles · 8 months

Text

Rising Heat

Tekken - King x Female Reader

Warnings - 18+ Only. Adult Situations.

So, I have come to the fairly firm conclusion that King is the hottest Tekken man. I will not be taking questions at this time--

Enjoy the Rambles!

The Charity Tournament was proving to be a success, so far.

In the aftermath of the last King of Iron Fist Tournament, the Mishima Zaibatsu had something of a “PR issue”, as Lee had so delicately put it. Which, considering the last head of the corporation had attempted world domination, was probably something of an understatement.

You were not sure exactly how the idea had come about, but between the minds of Lee, Lars, Alisa, Jin and Steve, the King of Iron Fist Tournament had been rebranded. Now, the tournament’s goal was to raise funds for reconstruction efforts in the areas most affected by the corporation’s actions, along with charities and causes of the competitors choosing.

…you had to admit, the idea had merit. And if gave you an excuse to get back into the ring, so to speak. Jin owed you a rematch, after all.

Xiaoyu practically vibrated with excitement beside you, the prep room bustling with activity. On the large screen above your heads, the match between Jin and Hwoarang was in full swing, and so far it was proving a close call.

“KO!”

Hwoarang hit the floor as the audience erupted with cheers and groans. Xiaoyu bounced on the spot and clapped gleefully, her face lighting up.

“Jin! He did it! He did it!”

“I noticed.” You said dryly, watching her with some bemusement. “Is anyone actually keeping track of how many victories those two have over each other?”

Xiaoyu tilted her head, giving a thoughtful hum before shrugging her shoulders. “I’m sure they must be. I’ll ask later.”

You snorted and returned your attention to the monitor, the announcer’s voice blaring through the speakers as the leaderboard flashed across the screen. You spotted Xiaoyu’s name (“Hey, look, I’m going up against Steve!”) and were scanning for your own when a exuberant voice called out behind you.

“Ladies! Enjoying the show?”

Turning around you saw Lee approaching, his handsome face practically glowing. He had been in his element this evening, and seemed to enjoy working with others to make the tournament a success. You were glad he seemed to be having a good time, but at the moment you were eager to find out when you would be getting into the arena.

Xiaoyu smiled brightly and gestured to the monitor. “We were just looking for her name—”

“I better be fighting Kazama.” You cut in, leaning back to nudge Lee slightly. “Sorry, Xiaoyu, but your boyfriend is going down.”

“Hey, he’s not my—!”

Lee laughed boisterously while Xiaoyu flushed and pouted, flashing you a winning smile – whether in an attempt to charm or placate you, it was difficult to say. “Alas, you’ll need to get to the next round first.”

“Then tell me whose ass I need to kick, Chaolan.”

Lee reached into the pocket of his flashy, fur-lined coat, pulling out his phone and studying the screen for a moment. “Steve and I were talking about it, and we’re quite excited for who we’ve matched you with—Marvelous!” Lee interrupted himself, a pleased grin blooming on his face as his head suddenly turned to look past you and Xiaoyu. “You’ve arrived!”

You watched as Lee strode past you and Xiaoyu towards the entrance, cheerily greeting the newest arrival – was something growling?

It took a moment for you to register who you were looking at, a towering masculine figure with a bestial face – King had arrived.

Oh…..

You had heard of King, of course, and the distinct jaguar mask – seriously did he take that thing off? – and herculean physique made him instantly recognisable to most anyone. But you had not spoken to the man before. The events of the previous year had not exactly been the opportune time to socialise.

“I always forget how huge he is!” Xiaoyu whispered behind you. “He is even bigger than on TV!”

You watched King as he shook an enthusiastic Lee’s hand, your eyes falling on the thick swell of his bicep, rolling under sunkissed skin. “I didn’t know you were a wrestling fan.” You replied vaguely, gaze trailing over his exposed torso, the perfectly sculpted abdomen and broad, powerful shoulders, and what were quite possibly the most bloody fantastic pectorals you had ever laid eyes on.

“Well, I’m not really, Panda is though—ooooh I should get his autograph for her!”

You barely had time to register exactly what Xiaoyu had said before you found yourself being dragged along by the other woman, towards where King and Lee were still talking.

Damn it, Xiaoyu—

You instinctively wanted to pull back, but your gaze was immediately drawn back to King as he gestured animatedly in front of Lee, biceps flexing at his sides, causing the powerful muscles in his arms and shoulders to bulge downright indecently.

“Ah! Excellent!” Lee’s grin flashed bright as he spotted you, while Xiaoyu cheerfully introduced herself to King (“My friend Panda is a big fan—“) he gestured theatrically towards you, turning to King again with a flourish. “King my good man, this is your opponent for the next round. I am sure you two together will be a superb performance!”

The wrestler turned his attention to you, and you found yourself momentarily unable to form sentences as you grasped just how tall he was.

King held out a gloved hand for you to shake – his hands were as massive as the rest of him, their rough warmth enveloping yours and damn it all you could feel your face getting hot. “I have seen you fight before.” He growled, the sound low and deep, rising from somewhere inside that broad, gloriously sculpted chest. “It is a pleasure to meet you properly at last.”

It certainly could be.

You cleared your throat, struggling to regain some composure – damn him, was that a smirk you saw on Lee’s face? – and shook King’s hand firmly. “I like your mask.”

Are you fucking serious—

Xiaoyu gave you a confused look, and while it was difficult to tell, King seemed a little puzzled as well. Lee smothered what sounded suspiciously like laughter – you were going to kick his ass – before suddenly hooking his arm around Xiaoyu’s shoulders. “My dear, I almost forgot! I need to take a few shots of you and Steve before the match, you understand—”

“Oh, okay! I’ll see you later!”

Xiaoyu called to you over her shoulder as Lee quickly began leading her away, and you glared at the back of the silver haired man’s head for a moment before realising you had not let go of King’s hand yet.

Releasing your hold, you shook yourself, brushing imaginary dust from your shoulder. “I’ve heard good things about you.” You tried to steer the conversation somewhere close to familiar. “I’d like to get my hands on you. In the arena. I mean—”

God, this was embarrassing.

King’s shoulders shook, a deep, throaty chuckle emanating from him and you felt yourself flush again. Damn it, even his laugh was kind of sexy—

“I look forward to seeing you in action.” He said, nodding and crossing his arms, the simple movement triggering a symphony of contracting musculature, those gorgeous pecs flexing unconsciously fuck you needed a drink. “Let’s give the crowd a show to remember.”

The fight. Of course. Familiar territory. You felt your lips form a smile, and confidence began to flow back into your limbs. “Naturally.” You leaned against the row of lockers nearby, flashing your teeth up at King. “It’s not everyday people see a King being toppled now, is it?”

King laughed again, shaking his head as he leaned against the lockers with you – it was a little odd talking to someone wearing a mask over his entire head, but King had a surprisingly warm aura for such an imposing figure. “I do not plan on losing.”

“Neither do I.” You stretched your arms over your head – maybe it was your imagination, but you swore you saw his head tilt down slightly, gaze lingering on your chest, before immediately moving back to your face. Warmth blossomed across your skin, and you pushed yourself upwards, arching your back just slightly. His head tilted slightly, following the movement.

Oh? Looks like I’m not the only one who likes what they see…

You felt a surge of boldness, your footing regained. Adopting as casual an air as possible, you grabbed the zipper of your form-fitting jacket, slowly pulling it down. You shrugged out of the material, sighing softly as the warm air of the prep room rushed to greet the bare skin of your arms and stomach. The material of your top hugged your chest and as you tossed your jacket onto the bench nearby, you glanced in King’s direction.

The mask made it difficult to tell, but you could feel his gaze trailing down over you, stopping on your hips before moving back up. You bit your lip slightly, barely stopping a pleased grin from spreading across your face.

“We should talk more after the fight.” You said, pretending to examine your boots – lifting your thigh, tilting your hips, just slightly – smiling impishly. “Maybe get a drink? Lee tells me the hotel they’ve booked for the fighters has a good bar.”

King said nothing for a moment, although you swore you heard a low, rumbling growl from in his throat. “Yes.” He said after a moment. “I would like that.”

“Good.” You swallowed, a flicker of excitement sparking deep in your belly. “We can toast my victory.”

King laughed once more, then stepped away from the lockers. You watched as King began to make his way towards the tunnel leading to his side of the arena, the muscles of his broad back flexing and contracting with every step, his powerful thighs striding across the room, the pleasing snugness of his pants accentuating his perfectly crafted—

Fuck.

Kazama would have to wait, you decided as you turned and began to make your way to the starting area. You were beginning to think of a different way to spend your evening after the fight.

King was a thrilling opponent.

You had fought plenty of men who thought themselves showmen. Often they’d be so distracted performing for their perceived audience they seemed to forget they were in a real fight, with a real enemy. That carelessness had made those victories easy.

King was different. He balanced his technique with theatricality, showing off for the crowd, bringing excitement to the arena, but his guard was never down. Every opening you spotted was bait, luring you in for an easy strike only to close down around you like a steel trap.

He was strong, you were quick. The trap would spring, you would dodge, and the dance continued, the temperature rising, sweat clinging to your skin. You ducked beneath King’s grasp, the warmth of his powerful body grazing your own, and it was hard not to imagine how this intensity would feel in other, more intimate environments.

Fuck, you were so turned on.

The crowd cheered and the music blasted through the air as you spun beneath King, aiming a kick directly at his exposed abdomen. He twisted, his arm darting protectively in front of him, knocking you off balance. He swung his body to the side, a fierce roar bellowing from deep in his throat, and you were thrown back, barely managing to flip around and skid across the floor to minimize the impact.

You had put nearly full force into your kick, and King had tossed you aside as though you weighed nothing, throwing you across the arena with strength greater that even his powerful build and size would suggest.

Fuck, that was hot.

King charged suddenly, and you sprang into action, launching yourself upwards. You swung your foot directly at the side of King’s head, but his massive hand shot up, fingers snapping tight around your ankle. You barely had time to react before the wrestler’s other hand grasped your waist, guiding your momentum until your thighs were on top of his shoulders.

What the fuck—

You squirmed in his grip, adrenaline mixing with bafflement, but King held fast. He twisted around, and you felt air rush around your ears as the world dropped out as he threw himself forward, sending you both crashing into the floor of the ring. Pain flashed across your shoulders and back, the roughness of King’s fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs, the weight of his broad, muscled body sliding between your legs, strong and wide and hot—

The sound that slipped past your lips was downright obscene. King’s head snapped towards you, and he became suddenly still, the jaws of his mask open in a silent roar. He stared at you, unmoving, and you felt your cheeks burn as you realised he definitely heard that.

Blood rushed in your ears along with the crowd’s cheering and King continued to stare at you unmoving, his palms burning against your skin. Biting your lip hard, you twisted your hips sharply, squeezing your thighs tight around him. King grunted in surprise as he was thrown onto his back, you perched atop him, gazing down at him, breathless with adrenaline and something else.

King stared up at you, chest heaving, his strong hands still holding you. You held each other’s gazes, the noise of the crowd and pounding of your heart deafening in your ears.

“…about that drink….” You said finally, swallowing thickly as King’s hands subtly brushed up your thighs, heat trickling down your spine. “How about we have it in my hotel room?”

King did not reply, but after a moment he nodded, fingers lightly stroking the strip of skin between your belt and shirt, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. You arched slightly, fire coiling deep in your belly, and swung your fist downwards. King threw himself to the side as you rolled sharply to your feet, excitement crackling in the air as the crowd roared with approval.

“KING! KING! KING! KING! KING—”

“But first….” You crooked your fingers at the wrestler as he slowly rose to his feet, his gaze remaining fixed on you, the jaguar mask bringing to mind the image of a hungry beast eyeing prey – was it weird that was turning you on a little? – and flashed him a grin. “I’m afraid it’s time to disappoint your beloved audience.”

King’s shoulders shook slightly, a booming laugh rising from deep in his chest. “I do not disappoint.”

You definitely caught the edge of innuendo in his tone, and a grin burst onto your lips.

This was going to be fun.

#tekken #tekken x reader #king ii #king #tekken king #king ii x reader #king x reader #tekken king x reader #tekken king ii x reader #tekken fanfic #tekken fanfiction #tekken fic #tekken king ii

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idyllcy · 10 months

Text

for all time/lovebrush chronicles boys as cliché tropes

word count: 645

summary: lovebrush boys as cliche tropes !

Ai Yin / Ayn - Competitors - Whaaat? Why not Clarence ?? HEAR ME OUT.

You're a musician. You're like the musician ever— probably a pianist just to piss him off. The two of you always tie first for piano competitions. There's no argument. If he's there, you're there. If he's first, you're first. The two of you are both prodigy pianists and there's no room for argument. Thus arises the issue. Your name is always followed by his— or his name is always followed by yours. You guys hate it. Or so you say. Because when you're missing from a competition for the first time in years, he's very much confused as to where you are, and it almost feels empty without you. Wha— what did he just say? That was definitely not him.

Lu Chen / Alkaid - Deskmates - oh that's so cliché (I know)

The two of you are paired up as deskmates for the year. It's a little awkward at first until you get used to him, and then it just breaks into everyone else eating dog food (third-wheeling). He brings you breakfast because you skip eating it, and you fix his tie when it's crooked... he always picks calls for you when he needs an extra hand, you always drop everything you have to help him... you two are practically dating. Which raises the question. are you dating? Or is Alkaid just taking care of you because he thinks you're forgetful and clumsy? The love letter slipped into your desk seems to say otherwise, though.

Luo Xia / Lars - Arranged Marriage - I didn't think this could get more cliché

You get arranged into a marriage with him for one reason— your family's going bankrupt, so they have to sell their only child to the Luos because like. Idk that's a cliché, it's a trope, IT'S HAPPENING TO YOU. PERIOD. At first you're like terrified and he's super scary and cold and lowkey kind of rude, but he still kind of cares since when you first move in, he has the servants move all of your stuff, and yu almost feel like you're home. He's just not very vocal about liking you though; so when your family's business breaks out of bankruptcy and you're told you can divorce him if you want, and then he's like "no please don't take my spouse from me ☹️" and then next thing you know you're being pampered to the moon and back. (You end up staying with him.)

Si Lan / Clarence - Love at First Sight - HEAR ME OUT ON THIS.

You're an unassuming new student at school, completely unbothered. You do not know he's the student council president. You're just at the nurse's office because your mom's the nurse or smth. Then, he's admitted into the office because he overworked himself on accident, and you're like "errrr I'll help. sure" And what does he see upon first waking up? You. The sun behind your head gives you a halo, and you look angelic. He thinks he's hallucinating. "God, did I die?" "Erm... not quite!" Then you nurse him back to health, and he's having a moment (he can't forget you) but dw you eventually end up together 👍

Ye Xuan / Cael - Brother's Best Friend - you did not (oh yes I did)

Cael, your brother's calm best friend who seems to have no interest in dating anyone at all. Cael, your brother's best friend who's been there for you as long as you can remember. Cael, your brother's best friend who helps you through college hell, voice calm and soothing as you cry about the homework. Cael, your brother's best friend who never lets himself slip when you're around (regardless of how bad he actually likes you) Cael, your brother's best friend who tries his best to resist you when you're on top of him, breath heavy with alcohol and almost drunk. Cael, your brother's best friend who doesn't fight it when you pull him in for a kiss at the door when he comes to check up on you the next day. and Cael, who can't say no to you when you spill out your feelings for him on paper, spilling out his own when you meet up with him.

#I am obsessed with this btw im like obseddsed with these characters I will explode rn /pos #cael x reader #ye xuan x reader #si lan x reader #clarence x reader #Luo xia x reader #lars x reader #lu chen x reader #alkaid x reader #ai yin x reader #ayn x reader #lovebrush chronicles x reader #reader insert #lovebrush chronicles #for all time x reader #for all time #also hello lovebrush chronicle/for all time fandom please take my housewarming gift pls let me in #☾.blend

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skinomyteethh · 1 year

Note

Hi!! Can you please write a James Hetfield smut? Like, something where you guys went to a small get together with the rest of Metallica and their families. And James sees you holding Lars’ kid, and gets excited because of how cute you look holding a baby. And that night, when you guys arrive home, there’s breeding smut with dirty talk? Thanks!!

pretty mama

pairing; james hetfield x fem! reader

summary; james sees how adorable and perfect you look as a mom, and he just has to breed you.

contains/warnings; breeding kink, fingering, little hair pulling, creampie, may contain spelling/grammar errors.

authors note; woah two posts in one day?! i actually have no idea how to write like a breeding kink scenario so i hope i did okay! also I had no idea how to end it

the sound of baby babbling adorably accompanied the rest of chatter in the dining room. a small smile spread across her face as she quietly cooed and played with lars' one year old baby boy, for james the whole scenario was a sight for sore eyes. he sat down in-front of her with his arms crossed and his eyebrows furrowed, he occasionally inputted into whatever conversation they were having.

james seemed irritated but he was actually far from that. he pondered what it would be like to have children with [name], or rather how stunning she'd look pregnant with his kid. the idea was incredibly arousing and adorable, the whole mom look seemed to suit [name] perfectly, james couldn't wait until they got home. fortunately, the nightly 'hangout' ended rather quickly which left [name] in the kitchen, washing the dishes peacefully.

he inched closer to the origin of the soft humming, wrapping his strong arms around her, peppering soft kisses down the right side of her neck. [name]'s smile grew as she leaned her head back against his shoulder, glancing at james lovingly. "hey baby.." she mumbled, bringing his head up and in-front of hers, placing a soft peck on the bridge of his nose. "I need you.." he hastily breathed out, now gripping onto her waist.

she was slightly taken aback by his boldness, it wasn't unusual yet she just did not expect him to be in such a mood at this very moment, though she still consented. in a matter of minutes she was naked, her face was pressed against the plethora of pillows. her legs were mounted on james' shoulder as he licked a stripe from her entrance to her clit, lapping his tongue over it.

the movements of his wet, red tongue made her bruised and bitten lips, part open, moans continuously spilling out. animalistic growls erupted from james as he continued to deliciously eat her out. he then halted his movements, laying her legs flat against the bed. his left hand grabbed onto her hair, pulling her head back as he leaned over, pressing his chest against her back.

he stuck his middle and ring finger of his right hand out, bringing them up to her mouth. she opened her mouth, beginning to suck on his fingers as if they were something else of his, [name] closed her eyes, slowly bobbing her head up and down his fingers, whining as he whispered countless praises into her ear. after a couple minutes his fingers were soaked in her saliva, he retrieved his fingers from her mouth, letting go of her hair.

james' hand then spread her soaked folds with his left hand, slowly rubbing her clit again with his right hand, spreading some of her arousal onto the pads of his fingers before sliding his fingers into her tight entrance, pumping them in and out, biting his bottom lip as he heard the vulgar sounds her desperate cunt made as he finger fucked her. the pleasure she felt now inched her even closer to cumming.

as she was on the verge of her release her hands gripped the white sheets, almost screaming into the pillows in-front of her until james' pulled his fingers out of her. upon the loss of contact and pleasure she furrowed her brows, and just as she opened her mouth to protest she felt the tip of his cock nudge against her entrance. her grip on the sheets tightened, her knuckles turning slightly white.

he brought the tip of his cock from her hole down to her clit, rubbing his tip against it, smudging his precum on it. james slowly inched his dick back up to her entrance, inserting himself, his breath hitching as he felt her tight, warm and sort of velvety walls wrap around him. with how aroused he was it wouldn't take much for him to cum.

groan, grunts, whines and moans filled the room as james began to thrusted into her, his hands grasped onto the fat of her hips and occasionally her ass, leaving small crescent shaped marks on both. "I'm gonna fuckin' fill you up and make you the prettiest, sexiest mom ever, holy fuck." he mutter as his thrusts became sloppier and his breathing became more rapid and ragged.

with a couple final, harsh thrust both of them came at the exact same time, he pushed deep inside her, not pulling out for a few minutes, but when he did james watched as his semen spilled out of her hole, and pushed it back in with his lip, continuing to bite down on his bottom lip, and now before both of them knew it, they'd be parents.

#fanfic #metallica x reader #metallica smut #metallica fanfiction #james hetfield x y/n #james hetfield x reader #james hetfield fanfiction #james hetfield smut

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aplaceforyourhearttorest · 1 year

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Play Me 🖭 James Hetfield (18+)

"Just because I'm not there right now doesn't mean we can't have fun, baby." Your boyfriend's voice rasps out against the shell of your ear, his used voice coming out hoarse. Raising an eyebrow, you wrap your index finger around the phone's cord, wishing it was a strand of his blonde hair instead.

"And what do you have in mind, phone sex? Because the last time we tried, Lars walked in while you had a hand down your pants."

James laughs loudly at the memory, causing you to grin in response, your fingertips lightly grazing the hem of his shirt you were wearing. "I'd like to never have that happen again, actually," He muses out before pausing. "I have something better in mind. I won't touch myself, but you will. And I left behind a gift for you."

Lifting the receiver off of the bed, you began to stand up and look around the room. "Babe, there's nothing new here." Crouching down to look in the bottom shelves, you purse your lips as you hear him let out an amused hum.

"It isn't really new, I just added something to it," Before you could ask why he was being so cryptic, he spoke up again. "What did we get in trouble for on our first date?"

"For listening to rock music on my dad's.." Trailing off, you began to huff out a light peal of laughter before going over to the desk near the dresser. "Walkman." Reaching over to pick up the shoebox you two kept full of memorabilia, you quickly took off the cover in anticipation.

"If this is your way of finally hearing me orgasm while listening to Van Halen, you really went out of your way." You say in a teasing tone as your hand encircles around the cassette player. Removing the headset from the Walkman, you blink in confusion as you take in the appearance of the tape inside.

"Is this a homemade tape?" Pressing the play button without waiting for his response, you freeze mid-step as a moan rings out around your guys' quiet apartment bedroom.

"Don't run from me baby, take it." Flushing from the grunts that bellow out of the small machine in your hand, you hastily press pause.

"James," You whine out, your thighs pressing together as you feel your clit begin to pulsate. Shakily making your way back to the bed, you sit on the edge as you spread your legs wide open.

"Lie back and take your underwear off for me," James says over the phone, causing you to jolt and almost drop it. "Keep on my shirt."

Lifting your hips and following his instructions, a shiver runs through you as your pussy gets exposed to the cool air. "Yes sir." You whimper out, your free hand gripping onto the sheet beside you as you wait impatiently for his next command.

"Press play and don't stop it again." Blinking dazedly, you reach over and blindly press on the buttons until your cries are the only thing you can hear.

"I-I can't, it's too much!" You hear yourself moan out. Redness covers your cheeks and chest as you remember the positions he had you in. Missionary at first, borderline mating press as he had you by the ankles and stretched out over your head.

Doggystyle was next, his tattooed fist clutching your then tangled hair and bruising your hip with the other.

"Stick your fingers in your mouth baby, then trail them down." Spit traveled down your forearm as you wrapped your tongue around your middle and ring fingers. Closing your eyes and imagining them to be his wide girth, you hear him let out a curse as you swallow around them and gently gag.

Lips quirking up in a smile at how reactive he was at the sound, your fingers pop out of your mouth and slowly leave a trail of wet as you grasp onto your breast.

"James please, I need more."

"You'll take what I give you, like a good girl. Stay still, doll."

Tsking out loud, James breathes in deeply as a sadistic grin grows on his face. His next words have you trembling and crying out in frustration.

"Nothing's changed, baby. You still don't get to cum until I tell you to."

#james hetfield #metallica #metallica smut #metallica x reader #metallica imagines #james hetfield smut

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jasperhaleobsessed · 10 months

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Dancing with the Cowboy

Jasper Hale x GN reader (requested by anon)

Notes: Sorry this took me forever I've been preparing for the holidays and school's been a bit stressful the last week or two. Thank You so much for your patience! :) This is my first x reader fic so please be nice! Posted this by accident oops! But it's fine it was practically done anyways! Not heavily edit sorry in advanced! Hope you still like it! :)

Warnings: None, pure fluff

Word count: 853

Tagging some mutuals/friends cause I need some love since this is my first x reader fic! @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @twilightsaga123412 @nobody0805 @naolvshan

You smiled to yourself as you popped in your ear buds. It was finally your 'me' time in the day. And to say the least today was exhausting and you needed some music in your life. Excitement rushed through your veins, it was finally time to listen to your favorite album and your favorite artist. You were bubbling with excitement, you just couldn’t wait. You unlocked your phone and tapped on your music app. You scrolled until you found your favorite album. Reputation by Taylor Swift. Out of her discography rep was most definitely your favorite and the best out of her other albums in your honest opinion. It was different and unique from the rest of her work that’s what made it special. Of course the rest of her discography was amazing but this album held a special place in your heart.

This album always pumped you up. It always brought a smile to your face when you were down. When you were sad it made everything better. They say books can take you to magical places but in your case it wasn’t a book, It was Reputation and any of Taylor Swift’s music. Her music was magical in your eyes, her lyrics were like poetry, they’re beautiful. They’re amazing. It’s what got you through the good and bad. But it wasn’t just her music that helped a certain cowboy, helped as well. You blush at the thought of your boyfriend, he always had this effect on you. You tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear, smiling at the thought of your boyfriend. You also couldn’t help but feel excited to see him in the next 30 minutes. Currently it is 2:30 and he said he’d be at your place at 3:00. So you have about 30 minutes to listen to tswift and relax. This sounded perfect. You headed towards your room, you twisted the doorknob and flicked the lightswitch.

Once you stepped into your room you plopped onto your soft, comfy bed. You hit play on Reputation and the first track started to play …Ready for it? The song started to play and after a minute you couldn’t help but move from your bed. It was a difficult move since your covers and pillows were ever so soft and comforted you greatly. But suddenly you were in the mood for a little dance even if you weren’t the best, at the end of the day it was all about having fun. You started to shuffle your feet, a giggle escaped your lips as you continued to shake your hips trying to match the rhythm of the song. Dancing hasn’t always been your forte and you haven’t always enjoyed it but when you're alone and not judged by others it feels good. It also helped you were listening to rep. Suddenly you felt a strong arms wrap around your waist. You squealed in surprise. And you may or may not be very, very ticklish. You whipped your head around to meet a pair of golden eyes. You put a hand over your heart, it raced fast.

You swat his arm, “You scared the crap out of me Jazz.” He chuckled at your response. “Sorry Darlin’ didn’t mean to startle ya.” He smiled dazzlingly at you.

You pulled your earbuds out of your ears to hear him better. You quickly pause your music and toss your phone on your bed. You admired his smile, you could never stay mad at him long.

You shake your head and a small smile graces your face. “I thought you said you wouldn’t be here until 3:00?” You question, raising your eyebrow.

“Sorry darlin’ I missed you too much.”

“You just saw me like an hour ago, you know!”

“Well excuse me darlin’ but I missed you and I’ll take any chance to see you.” You smiled at him like a dork. You blushed and closed the gap between the two of you. You pressed your lips against his cold ones. It made you shiver and yet it was a wonderful feeling. A warm feeling blossomed in your chest as you kissed him. You pulled away and giggled, you looked up at him and you couldn't help but look deep into his honey eyes. He smiled warmly at you, and caressed your cheek. “I also may or may not have felt that you're a bit exhausted and I wanted to do anything to help ya.”

Your heart melts, it's official you have the sweetest boyfriend. “Aww thank you Jasper, that is so sweet and considerate of you. I love you.” He beams and you lean in and hug him tightly.

“May I have this dance?” You smiled at him and took his hand. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and pressed play. The beat of lover came on, it was one of your favorites.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and you rested your hand on his chest. You both swayed together and danced to the slow beat.

You felt glad he came over. He always came when you needed him. It really helped that he could feel what you felt, it may or may not have come in handy at times. He has this wonderful talent of taking away your worries and making everything better. He had the best hugs and always knew the right words to say He really was the perfect boyfriend.

The End.

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