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raccoon-eyed-rebel · 1 year ago

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Part 23 - Charles

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 22 -- Part 24

Pairing: Charles x ofc (Sloane)

Summary: The guys throw a New Years Eve party at 179th Crescent Street...

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI, oral (m and f receiving), p-in-v shenaningans. And some minor violence, and drinking.

Word count: 3.3k

A/N: Alright, Charles' turn! Do we expect him to shag someone? Yes we do! Does he? That's a stupid question! (It almost didn't happen!)

A liiiiiittle more insight for you guys in the Marshall situation, but not too much (I actually had to go back and edit some stuff out because I felt I was giving too much away, whoops.) Anyway: Enjoy! And let me know what you think! 🥰

@deandoesthingstome @geralts-yenn @summersong69 @peaches1958 @fvckinghenrycavill @keanureevesisbae @livisss @sillyrabbit81 @ellethespaceunicorn @ylva-syverson @poledancingdinos

It’s rather busy in the kitchen, but I think they’re almost done, which means it’s probably safe for me to go take a look without being put to work. Besides, it looks like Leon is taking most of the heat for now. I’m almost slammed into a wall when Mike squeezes past me in the narrow hall, announcing the internet has been fixed.

“I knew there was a reason we kept him around.” I say as I join Leon in the kitchen.

“Yeah, it would be so awful if you couldn’t watch porn for one night.” The only reason it doesn’t sour my mood is because Dani is the one saying it. Anyone else could get bent for all I care, but her, I like. It doesn’t stop me from elbowing Leon wherever I can hit him, though, because he should know better than to laugh.

“I don’t think I’ll be needing any tonight,” I say indifferently. From the corner of my eye, I notice that Mike’s paying attention for a change, and I can’t help but throw in a mildly inappropriate wink at Dani - just to see what he’ll do. And how she will react to it.

“Think you can still get laid with a broken nose and a black eye, Brandon?” I was never planning on taking the flirting further, but if I had been… Mike is fast, and I really don’t need a dent in my face tonight. I’ve definitely become more careful since Sol kicked me in the nuts and Geralt came really close to permanently disfiguring my face.

One look at Dani, however, tells me enough. She’s biting her lip as she looks at Mike. Mikey, on the other hand, doesn’t take his eyes off me while he pulls Dani into his side. God, I’m glad they seem to work out. I can’t take another week of him smiling at his phone like an idiot but too nervous to actually ask her out. I’m fairly sure Anjelica ended up hitting send on that text for him. It was the weirdest thing to witness, because Mike actually has game - which is also why I don’t exactly mourn the fact that he’s off the market, although I’m fairly sure Sy is even happier about that. Everyone in this house has broken up more than one spat between those two about who stole whose chick.

Word travels fast around campus, because there’s a staggering amount of people in the house that I know I didn’t invite. I don’t mind, of course; plenty of the ladies present I’d happily invite back - and from the looks of it, a fair amount of them would be more than happy to come along. Tonight, however, I'm mostly interested in the girls who are with Danielle. From the corner of my eye, I notice that Leon has similar ideas, and he’s a lot closer than I am. Luckily, he seems to be more interested in the other roommate, Ariel. The one I’m after is Sloane Price. She plays hockey on the university team, and I occasionally run into her after practice. She’s been sizing me up for weeks, and it’s driving me insane. The one spanner in the works; Sy. Sloane seemed to have set her sights on him, although I don’t know why. Luckily - again, though I like to pretend I don’t depend on luck - he’s occupied by Alicia Thomson. I decide to try the luck I say I don’t need, and talk to her.

My hand hurts like hell. It’s the price you pay for kicking out some douche who can’t keep his hands off your roommate’s girlfriend.

“Thanks for doing that.” The voice is familiar to me now, and when I look up, Sloane is standing in front of me, holding an ice pack. She hands it to me, and I accept it gratefully.

“Thank you.” The cold is amazing on my sore knuckles.

“Can I take a look at that for you?” Sloane asks kindly. I nod, gritting my teeth as I move my hand slightly. She’s a med student - and this might just be a way to get both of us out of here a little quicker than I thought. “I don’t think anything is broken, but I’m fairly sure you sprained your middle finger. Is there any tape in the house?” Bingo! As a matter of fact, there is.

“I think there’s some in my hockey bag,” I say, “do you want me to check?”

“Might as well come with you.” Sloane shrugs.

We make our way upstairs and I lead the way to my room. My bag is at the bottom of the wardrobe, and I was right about the tape; there’s still some in there.

“This is a pretty nice house,” Sloane says as she starts working on taping my finger to the next. “Better than the apartment I share with Dani and Ari… Definitely bigger.”

“I’d hope so,” I say, “there’s eight of us! It’s crowded enough as is.”

“It’s neat, for a house with eight guys,” she notes. I can’t say she’s wrong; we do keep things clean around here. It’s either that or get murdered by August, Geralt and Sherlock. Trust me when I say no one would ever find the body.

I hiss when Sloane pulls the tape a little too tight. “Easy.”

“Sorry.” She has a fantastic smile. “You’re all set.” She lets go of my hand a tad quicker than I’d hoped. It's strange. Normally I'd be wishing for them to get the niceties over with as soon as humanly possible, so we can get to the fun stuff. Not with her. It's not that I'm going to try to pretend I don't know what's going on. I've been in love before. The guys would try to say that I fall in love three times before breakfast every godforsaken day, but they're wrong. I like to fuck. That's all there is to it, really. More importantly: I don't do relationships. Those just end with everyone involved disappointed and hurt. I can't do that to her. To anyone. Not anymore.

Now, the smart thing to do would obviously be turning away, going back to the party, finding someone else and screwing her brains out. The only problem with that idea is that I wouldn't be with Sloane - who is agonisingly slowly leaning in for a kiss, while I'm moving away even more slowly.

"I'd feel incredibly insulted if I couldn't see with my own two eyes you're rock hard for me," she purrs out of nowhere. "To resist you is an almost olympic level achievement, but to be resisted by you? I'm not sure my reputation could take a hit like that…" Her hands are on my thighs, sliding up. I know exactly where they're going. Do I stop her? Who am I kidding? I don't have the strength of character to do that. Involuntarily, I let out a groan.

Her lips meet mine, and I’m done for: there’s absolutely nothing I can do to stop myself now. She pries my mouth open with hers and slips her tongue into my mouth. The vague taste of liquor - not beer or wine, it’s something else - lingers on her lips. It’s good. As far as kisses go, this one is pretty fucking amazing. Miss Price is handsy, and my shirt is on the floor before I know it. Part of me wishes they were all this fast. Yes, from a time-saving perspective. Don’t judge me, at least I’m aware I’m a bit of a jerk. I consider a world where all girls are as eager to sleep with me as Sloane for a moment, until she rakes her fingernails over my chest. When one of them grazes my nipple, I hiss. Hate the feeling. She has way too much control over me at this point, anyway.

I toss her on my bed, fully expecting her to shriek - and she does. They all do. Sometimes, I find myself wondering when things became so predictable. Is there really nothing new to this anymore? She pulls me in for another kiss. God, even if it’s the same old thing over and over again, it never stops feeling good. The decision to wear jeans was a poor one, I have to admit. They’re not going to be a problem for long, however, judging from the enthusiasm with which Sloane attacks my face and neck. Those wet kisses along my jaw and down towards my collarbone make me shiver.

“You like that,” Sloane moans into my ear. I love how it isn’t a question, but rather an observation. And she’s not wrong.

“I do,” I reply, “but it makes me wonder what else that mouth can do.” Not even a minute ago I was impressed with her tempo, and now I’m acting as if she’s not even fast enough for me. What is wrong with me?

“Are we in a hurry?” she asks. We really aren’t, but I’m acting like we are. Sloane raises an eyebrow at me. “I’m happy to admit I’m throwing myself at you, Charles, but that doesn’t mean you’re going to get away with a five minute pump and dump.”

“Don’t insult me,” I scoff, “or do I have a bad reputation I don’t know about?”

“You mean a reputation for being a manwhore? I’m surprised you didn’t know…” I laugh at her retort - albeit sarcastically.

“I mean a reputation for being bad in bed,” I fire back at her. The corner of her mouth twitches, but she doesn’t say anything. I don’t consider it a win just yet. Until she finally shakes her head, that is. I smile at her. “I can give as well as take.”

If that’s not a statement of the type ‘put your money where your mouth is’, then I don’t know what is. Sloane sighs as I slowly kiss my way down her neck. It doesn’t seem to do much for her… Oh, well. I’ll figure it out after I get a good look at these tits. She helps me take her sweater off. The fabric is thin, so even though it’s a relatively modest thing, it did reveal that she has much heftier equipment than I had expected. Curse sports bras and their figure-hiding properties - it's practically the only thing I've seen her in up until now. She stops me when I move to undo her bra, leaving me… confused, in a way. Is she distracting me from the fact she won't show me her tits by taking my cock out? Well… it's working.

My jeans are off in no time, and she makes her way down quickly. Those massive bedroom eyes make up for what she lacks in technique. Not that she's bad. Not at all! It's just…

"That - oh, fuck! Keep doing that!" I'm a simple man. There's two or three things I really like, and I don't need much more than that. It makes it really easy to give pointers. Unfortunately, any kind of hint makes it really easy for girls to want to punch me in the nose. Listen, I know us guys can be dicks about getting directions during sex, but ladies… Pot, kettle, black. In my experience, at least. Sloane doesn't seem to mind, though, which is lovely. She just settled for what I told her works best, making this one of the nicest blowjobs I've ever had. It's a matter of finding out how quickly she'll give up, now.

About five minutes into giving a blowjob, about fifty percent of girls are going to call it quits. The ones who see oral as nothing other than pregame. Next forty to forty-five percent are gone after ten minutes. They're the ones who consider sucking dick fun enough to have at it until jaws start cramping or whatever. If she sticks with it after that time, that’s when I start to consider actually saving her number for future reference. Is that something a total jackass would say? Absolutely. Like I said: I don't have any strange ideas about what I am. I know many people consider me a jerk, and Sloane's assessment of 'manwhore' was far from incorrect. Still, I don't think I deserve the amount of shit I get for screwing around. I've never pretended to want more from a girl than a bit of good fun. It's not my fault some still expect me to call them, right? And I quit getting caught up in serious relationships after I ruined the third one by cheating. Now, some of the guys think my stance on sleeping with girls who are in relationships is questionable, and I won't pretend my opinion on the matter is undisputed…

Sloane breaks into my thoughts in a rather unorthodox way: sinking her teeth into my cock.

"I don't feel I deserved that," I groan. It didn't hurt, she was gentle enough, but it was an unwelcome enough surprise, nonetheless. What's worse is that she comes crawling up and kisses me. It's not the kiss that bothers me, it's the fact that she's no longer sucking my cock. Oh well, she's made it well past the ten minute mark.

"Tell me," she moans into my ear before softly sucking on my earlobe. Fuck, she's good. "Would you ever have cum from that?"

"No," I answer honestly, "but it felt absolutely divine." There's a big difference between a good blowjob and one that's going to finish you off.

"I'd ask you to return the favour but… I would actually like to cum," she whispers. I chuckle softly. I'm reasonably confident I can make that happen for her. And I'd love to.

She’s a willing participant for sure. She’s loud, which I’m definitely not going to complain about. Tastes good, too, and the way her pussy clenches around my fingers makes me very curious and very eager to fuck her. I keep eating her out until she screams my name - it’s almost suspiciously easy to get her there, but I’m the last person to question it. I can’t hold back a chuckle when I feel her fingers beneath my chin, pulling me up. Sloane’s hands are gentle, but impatient - so is her mouth. She kisses me fiercely. Feverishly. Almost desperately. I allow my eyes to wander, feel my expression turn into a frown when they meet her bra. It’s pretty, but in my way. Sloane, however, also stops my next attempt to take it off.

“Why?” I ask. I’m curious by nature, which is not always beneficial - not even in these moments. Sloane looks at me and rolls her eyes.

“What? I’m not good enough for you like this?” she counters.

“I never said that,” I warn her. Women and their godforsaken talent to twist your words. I swear it’s at least half the reason I get in trouble all the time. “I was just wondering.”

“I like the support. They’re pretty heavy,” she says plainly.

“I can imagine.” Apparently, there’s a tone in my voice she doesn’t like, because she smacks me in the arm. “Hey!”

She’s testing my patience now, and it’s working. It’s gone. I reach for my nightstand. Can’t screw around the way I do without protection - as disappointed as I am about that. I’m surprised when she puts a hand on my cheek and turns me back to her.

“Skip it,” she says, “I’m on birth control.” Maybe if I hadn’t looked into her eyes, I would have been able to resist her. This is not a good idea.

When she kisses me, I’m lost again. Next thing I know, I’m pushing into her, listening to her moans as she takes me all the way, hissing when she digs her nails into my shoulder. The sprained finger adds another degree of difficulty: it’s incredibly difficult to keep myself up, because - pardon my French - that finger hurts like a bitch.

“Your hand?” she asks kindly as she strokes the side of my face. Her hands are warm and soft against my skin, which makes me sigh. I nod, my face screwed up from the pain. I’m nowhere near drunk enough to ignore the feeling.

“Allow me,” she whispers before gently nudging me onto my back. I’m the last person to complain about a woman on top, especially when the view is so exquisite. As she rides me - with vigour, I must say. It’s greatly appreciated - I almost forget my displeasure regarding her bra. And my own name.

“Do you have this kind of stamina when you’re on top?” she asks after a while. I grin widely - I can’t help myself. It disappears, however, when she climbs off and sits on my bed, my open arms clearly not enough of an invitation for her to join me in a more comfortable position.

“Give my hand some time to heal, I’ll show you,” I say. She doesn’t seem particularly put off by the idea, which is lovely. “Come here for a minute.” Normally I wouldn’t ask. I’m not above a quickie in a bathroom stall, and I have been known to occasionally take off immediately after sex. What I don’t do, is ask the girls I shag in my own bed to leave - and not just because their staying the night exponentially increases my chances of having lazy morning sex, which I might just describe as my favourite pastime. In those cases, after sex cuddling is an inevitability. A nuisance, even. For me to ask for it… It reminds me immediately of just how terrible an idea this was.

“Do you want a drink?” I ask quickly, hoping for an excuse to leave my room and get my head on straight again.

“With alcohol? Yes, please,” Sloane answers.

“I’m sure they won’t miss a bottle of wine.” I put my clothes on as quickly as I can, and make my way downstairs.

At least… I try to, because a spat between Marshall and his best friend Peter prevent me from going into the kitchen. I’m not getting mixed up in this - or rather: I am going to try my very best, but if this guy keeps going the way he’s going, I’m afraid I’ll have no choice. My hand may not be broken now, but it surely will be if I have to assault one more person today. And I wasn’t planning on spending the rest of my night in hospital… Luckily, Ange gets in the middle of it before things really get out of hand. When the dust settles, I make my way into the kitchen to get a bottle of wine. Marshall doesn’t look too good… I might have to ask Sloane to take a look at him in a bit. If he’ll let her. He looks as if he just wants to disappear - and I don’t necessarily blame him. He hasn’t been himself, lately. The bad mood wasn’t unusual, per se, but there was something melancholic to it that didn’t suit him. I doubt this has fixed the issue.

As expected, he won’t let Slo into his room. I’d be sad if it didn’t mean I got to have her back with me quicker. When I got back to my room, I promised myself tonight. Just this one night with her, and then I forget about her. She just wants to know if the stories are true, she won’t mind. If she’s smart, she won’t expect a thing from me - and she’s in medical school. She’s smart. We just finish the bottle, talk about nothing, and laugh.

“Are you up for another round of debauchery?” she asks after she has put the empty bottle on my nightstand. She’s on her knees, straddling my thighs, clothed - unfortunately - because I haven’t had a chance to take her clothes off after she came back to the room. Neither of us are remotely sober now. Chances are that whatever happens next, will be forgotten before morning.

One night. And then I forget about her.

#charles brandon x ofc #charles brandon #179 crescent street #179cs #henrycavill fanfic #henry cavill characters #henry cavill fanfiction #charles brandon smut

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the-firebird69 · 3 months ago

Video

youtube

AC/DC - For Those About to Rock (We Salute You) (Audio)

we firer on you momentarily stan

Savage Oppress

and we nail you and where ver you are aahahah you Father laughs yeh ok an we die then no shit sherlock ...and we do see it we are all done. and after one commentno we dwindle

stan

fu stan you shit your weak as hell got hit onece and it is over fuck yoiu we dont attack ehr you shit

ken

and no surprise you wold dfend her. nope.

stan

NO SHIT WE DEFEND HER AND YOUR AN ASS. NO KINDDING MY DAUGHTER YOU IDIOT

KEN

FN MORON HE IS

CAA

ahahah and et tu brute and no shit htey defend her you frigin moron stn your shit you fag if your sying this i kill you for rreal yours pent foter fucker. and ou come for me y shit so you see it in star wars this demented asshole ruins us. saw it too he starts in on him and thinks tons of shit he is not doing. talks reatens jerks it f this your right caa he is rotten

sheerry

and it is aweful he is not ar ebel ruined them and boht sides. so you kee the chin up Princess Leah we see yo

Hera

f this ass he is such a jerk now i see him. fn faggot too. i need it. and such. chris bossey the weakling. druggie and addict. f this idiot

sherry

and youir woerds mean stuff but yeh it is bad i freak out ok now too and will.

and will kill all my kids they say so what are already dead

stan

what the hell do you mean by that

son of stan

you sit belching wiating for orders and i said it hit them take them down. need to have to.

stan

and risk full on war we nee dpreise orders

sons of stan

no you dnt hit them f them up make them fall

stan

an we need to come help you you are to contact us od we hear it you blame him your ai boy and nonsense talk. and dumb and think that john r i s right and hhahah he laughs he is crap and a liar never has what he says. sits on a poweder ketg lagung andmacs up his but like bedbugs. so we hear it too. and stan is nuts is out now. gone and tries for her and we said it today no but ok. we do it them defend ourselves and he can get bent

stans armies

and i shall go and say my peice to her husband

stan

no you shant queer i hear them and they sy it he tries for him so f you you fucking homo

Zues

they do NOT comply to terror threat and kindnapings never did your all nuts and ruin us all stan your fired

mac daddy

he is laughing at you all the time stan you shit and nwo angry. whipe us all out and such. and will if we assist you in your asshole cause says it. empire and the ohter suedo empire morlock too not trump. you join him we are through you faggot

sherry

we then are thoghourh

stan and its stupid yes but i try

You had no right to start ruining my life you little **** stand michael Roach I'm gonna get you the news rip all the positions you have out of your freaking hands you had no right to mess my finances up to take my time to screw around with a family you're a **** loser. I don't know why you think you have any right to do any of it or to pester me at all you've been getting killed you know people getting killed because you're doing this stupid **** that that freaking dogs don't do because they know to fear me you dumb ****. Not valuable and you're not that's how it is what does kidnapping us really attempting to do what did that do ruined your army put me in the middle **** hospital and you're all dead that's your job that you did you take responsibility for what you did going after her won't do anything I do appreciate the ships in advance and death stars I do need them I do appreciate your help and goodbye shit for brains

Zues

haahah lol This is what it's like he's really not wanting to sit here arguing with a dead person he's going to sit there and take the ships like we are you **** moron. Go up there and hand us what we want and make it happen how scary.

mac daddywe needed this and you were doomed the day you said you would take the west and i said not to try and your a faaggot for not obeying it is their whole plan wagons east ok damnit.

and so what i die and forever gone and such. and we do ti now try here

stan

so die who the f would carer your a maean hater shithead and yeh ok kidnpa me and hopspital and shit fucker. now we will pul you dwon and trump the shithead

Zues what sick idiots

they are we help now

Thor Freya

Olympus

#youtube

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