Fuck You

(Literally)

[buck-and-bear-it]

Interruption~

24. Your muse catches mine sneaking back in at 5am

Barrett blinked sleepily, staring at the building in front of him. Most people were asleep, and he was certain the front doors were locked and bolted. Well, sleeping outside wouldn’t be unusual for him, really, Still, if he didn’t have to, he wouldn’t.  He hadn’t expected to be out so late into the night, but he also hadn’t expected to have such strong nostalgia hit him so late into the game, either. On his way back from the shop, a walk that was deterred due to an accidental nap on the workbench (thank god there was no fire involved at the time), the below zero windchill brought back thoughts of much more difficult times. He wouldn’t say they weren’t pleasant, but they certainly weren’t simple. He would have had enough time to make it back to the brothel before closing even if he had passed by the abandoned location he used to reside in-- The problem was that he didn’t just pass by. He walked into the rusty, dilapidated building to find it more abandoned than it had been when his gang resided there.

Barrett had waited for hours, hoping someone would return. He made up plenty of excuses in his head for why they were all gone in that moment. They were really rather convenient excuses. Eventually, he convinced himself they would be back eventually, but he should head back so he might get at least a little sleep before sunrise. Cue standing outside in the snow with what was not nearly enough clothing while trying to decide how to tackle this new problem. Mentally, he had a high tolerance for the cold, but physically, he did not. As soon as he saw a shadow in one of the first floor windows, he tossed a chunk of snow at it, deciding it was just close enough to the ground for him to lift himself into should someone actually unlock it. If the other person was Neil, though, it would just end up wasted effort. Well, he could hope for the best.

[buck-and-bear-it]

🔵🔵🔵🔵🔵🔵

“There’s this lore I was taught as a kid,” Barrett wasn’t sure when this conversation had started. An hour ago? Three hours ago? In this case, it was probably best to count their time in shots. Shots never lied… but there was room for human error. And the room only increased with the counter. The bartenders never helped, either. The goal was always to get the customer as drunk as possible while still leaving them room to get off their property before they throw up. Barrett and Angela weren’t quite there yet, but they were right at the borderline of drunk and too drunk. “there are four huge ass dragons who destroy the world and– get this– in destroying the world they’re actually creating a new one simultaneously.”

“It’s some sort of cycle. Like the seasons.” Barrett was pretty good at giving drunk history lessons, if he did say so himself. There was a pause in the lesson with the clink of glasses and another shot taken and the man paused to look at Angela, making sure he could still determine all of her features.

“And we’re halting that process from repeating again.”

Damn. This girl really had a killer body. The kind that was tough and sturdy and could probably force someone on the ground. Well, from what he had heard, that was a pretty good advantage in her bedroom scene.

“So does that mean, in continuing to reb– to build society, we’ll eventually surpass these divine beings?”

Barrett wasn’t sure his sentences weren’t slurred at this point, even though he certainly stumbled with his words a bit, but he moved closer to Angela anyway, trying to make his point. He also made eye contact, which made him realize how long her eyelashes were. The tangent he was on, which had been irritating him to no end as they drank together, was becoming less and less of an interest.

“Or maybe we’re likening ourselves to gods already.”

Fuck the dragons.

Her lips seemed much more interesting.

[buck-and-bear-it]

There was a slurring mumble of agreements between the two of them that Neil finding out was probably just going to be a nuisance. As long as they shuffled off the floor, there wouldn’t be any trouble. Or, at least, they could hope so. Mostly, they weren’t that concerned. They were entirely too drunk to really care. As they attempted to stumble down the hallway, Barrett wondered when the last time he’d talked to Angela was. If he had been sober, he would have realized the answer was never. There had been eye contact every now and again– some sort of tacit agreement not to bother each other, he supposed– followed by minding their own god damn business. Barrett was pretty good at walking away from situations that didn’t interest him, though, so perhaps he was the only one truly minding himself. Maybe she had been interested in a conversation and he had ignored him. He was rather bad at reading social cues.

Well, if that had been the case, it didn’t seem to be one anymore. With an alcoholic catalyst, they had rushed through the conversation portion straight to the tongues in throats action. And really, the time between sitting on stools and battling against the wall was more of a blur than anything. He probably wouldn’t remember it in the morning. Although… he probably wouldn’t remember quite a bit of this in the morning. Not that this was a primary concern at the moment. He was more interested in the fact that his back was up against the wall, which was rarely an occurrence in his bedroom.

Well, it wasn’t his bedroom, was it? Besides, it wasn’t like she had enough force behind herself to really do anything rough or forceful. Not that he had the energy either. It was just a perfectly sloppy mess. The effort to remove Angela’s top was so taxing that he almost forgot they were making out. Somehow, he managed the attempt, although even he wasn’t sure how. Fingers tugged at thick black straps, Barrett’s face displaying what was certainly not enough patience to manage to unclasp the bra. Actually, it had so many straps that he wasn’t even certain he could manage it sober. Teeth nipped at bare shoulder and gripped at fabric, nails tracing her under bust with much less grace than he thought he currently had. Well, that was fine. He wasn’t known for his grace… although even his aggressive and demanding voice fell flat in his drunkenness. “Hey… Take this off.”

He sounded disgruntled and horny, but not dominating or authoritative. This was new for him, but he wasn’t really very aware of it. Well, he didn’t need to get used to it– it wasn’t often that he was drinking. Besides, drinking with Angela? He was certain it wouldn’t happen again. Tongue trailed on smooth and soft flesh, not content until it could reach the fleshy pink of her nipples. Certainly, the woman under his touch wouldn’t be content either.

[domme-angela-deactivated2016031]

The whole whirlwind of events was not something she was likely to remember in the morning. Not that she would really want to, either. Drunk makeouts with a stranger had to be one of the top things she never wanted to do again. And yet, there they were, with Barrett fumbling to pull off her top, while Angela attempted to do the same.

Her partner seemed to have beaten her to it, but not after some trouble. His hands moved to her bra, which was one of her harness bras. One of her favorites, really, with the straps criss-crossing attractively over her breasts in a way that seemed to accent the little that she had.

“Hey… Take this off.”

Barrett sounded horny and impatient, and considering how his mouth was working at her bare skin, Angela was in the same boat. Her hands moved to the back of her bra, fumbling at the claps’ elaborate setup. Sometimes she would joke that she could pull it off in her sleep, she knew the bras so well. Drunk, though, was a totally different story. Her fingers were clumsy at best and it took her twice as long as she would have liked, but the bra fell away regardless, exposing her bare chest to the man in front of her in the least graceful way possible. 

Once that was taken care of, her hands made their way to the fabric of Barrett’s shirt. He could have her way with her in whatever fashion he wanted to. Hell, he could fuck her brains out if he wanted to, but she’d be damned if his clothes were going to stay on. The only problem was getting them off in the first place. Like the bra, the fuzziness and clumsiness got in the way of something that would usually take an instant to figure out, but eventually Barrett was just as topless as Angela was. 

[buck-and-bear-it]

As the actions continued and the minutes ticked by, the clumsiness increased and the interest decreased. It was just sort of something that happened as the alcohol started flooding their bloodstream. Somehow, Angela had removed her bra, which seemed impressive to both of them in this state, and they had been struggling with Barrett's shirt when he realized he was a bit less sober than he thought he was. Well, he had noticed it earlier, but had promptly forgotten what with Angela's lips... and tongue... and breasts. He wasn't concerned as he nipped and lapped at her naked skin, fingers pressing temporary imprints into healthy and firm skin. When he did become concerned was when his hands were struggling with the button on her jeans. After a moment of effort, Barrett gave up, his dexterity nowhere to be found. Not wanting to lose the momentum, he reached around to the back of her thighs, lifting her into his grasp to relocate them to the bed. He didn't realize how difficult a feat this was, or that it was on a whole different level from unbuttoning jeans. There was a lot of stumbling and swaying, which ended when they crashed to the floor next to the bed, only a few inches from their destination. There was an alcohol induced smile on Barrett's face as he muttered what sounded like an apology followed by, "Are you okay?" There wasn't the ability to take in his surroundings or Angela's safety. Nor did he really care. He was distracted by her hair now, leaving the brunette on top of him as he settled into a surprisingly comfortable position. His hands and lips still wandered curiously, but that desire and drive had flickered out along with their ability to stand and walk properly.

[buck-and-bear-it]

Arts and Crafts || Barrett & Angelo

Barrett stepped out of his room with a dreary bleakness about him. He had taken the day off, which meant he could go to the shop and work on his newest project. It also meant he had to make it through the snow that was piled up several inches and still falling heavily. He might have been considering a third pair of socks as he locked his door. If he went back into his room at this point though, he worried he wouldn't make it out of the building. Fixing his scarf carefully around his neck and zipping up his jacket, Barrett wondered if he should invest in ear muffs. He had been wearing the bandana he received as a present, but the thick material didn't cover his ears. He thought it looked cool though, so he would risk his health for this new fashion statement. The alternative was buying new clothing, which was a hassle. Speaking of hassles, Barrett paused as he nearly passed Angelo's room. He had promised to show him some other pieces, hadn't he? With a frown, he contemplated whether or was worth it. Well, he didn't particularly mind having company in the snowy trek. Remembering their last... interaction, Barrett felt the need to brace himself as he knocked on the door.

[buck-and-bear-it]

🔵🔵🔵🔵🔵🔵

“There’s this lore I was taught as a kid,” Barrett wasn’t sure when this conversation had started. An hour ago? Three hours ago? In this case, it was probably best to count their time in shots. Shots never lied… but there was room for human error. And the room only increased with the counter. The bartenders never helped, either. The goal was always to get the customer as drunk as possible while still leaving them room to get off their property before they throw up. Barrett and Angela weren’t quite there yet, but they were right at the borderline of drunk and too drunk. “there are four huge ass dragons who destroy the world and– get this– in destroying the world they’re actually creating a new one simultaneously.”

“It’s some sort of cycle. Like the seasons.” Barrett was pretty good at giving drunk history lessons, if he did say so himself. There was a pause in the lesson with the clink of glasses and another shot taken and the man paused to look at Angela, making sure he could still determine all of her features.

“And we’re halting that process from repeating again.”

Damn. This girl really had a killer body. The kind that was tough and sturdy and could probably force someone on the ground. Well, from what he had heard, that was a pretty good advantage in her bedroom scene.

“So does that mean, in continuing to reb– to build society, we’ll eventually surpass these divine beings?”

Barrett wasn’t sure his sentences weren’t slurred at this point, even though he certainly stumbled with his words a bit, but he moved closer to Angela anyway, trying to make his point. He also made eye contact, which made him realize how long her eyelashes were. The tangent he was on, which had been irritating him to no end as they drank together, was becoming less and less of an interest.

“Or maybe we’re likening ourselves to gods already.”

Fuck the dragons.

Her lips seemed much more interesting.

[buck-and-bear-it]

This whole experience felt incredibly unusual to Barrett. Arms locked around his neck, fingers running through his hair… he wondered for a moment if this was normal. A moment later, however, he remembered that he worked at a brothel, and normal couldn’t really be defined in a place like this. The moment after that, he was lost in the strange, alcohol-fueled desire to keep one another from breathing. He hadn’t really been paying attention to the noise around him. He was rather good at turning everything into white noise, and he only became better at it the more he drank– although it would eventually lead to him passing out if he would have continued their little escapade.

“Huh?” Barrett pulled away as she parted their lips, a bit confused for a moment. He moved to her neck, breath heavy on her as he registered the words coming out of her mouth. They couldn’t… Oh. The heavy-handed man finally started registering the noises around him, and as soon as he did, he couldn’t help but become a bit irritated. Well… a little more than a bit. He tried to glare at the audience, but he couldn’t focus his gaze as well as he would have liked. “Can’t I just knock them across the floor? Bothersome…”

Barrett frowned, digging his teeth lightly into Angela’s neck. He didn’t really want to stop… but he knew they would be yelled at if they kept this up here, even if they didn’t have any clients. Besides, the way those words fell in a rushed waterfall through her pink lips were persuasion enough. “Fine.”

“Come on.” Blue eyes made a piercing and lustful gaze before pulling away, eyeing the best possible way to get back to his room. Actually, her room was probably closer. Grabbing his companion’s hand, he pulled her along, not sure who was steadying who at this point. Or maybe they were just making each other worse off. “Your room’s closer, right?”

[domme-angela-deactivated2016031]

Angela was half tempted to knock whoever the hell was jeering at them on their asses too… but even in her drunken state she knew that wasn’t the greatest idea. Soon enough their boss would be on their asses and who knew what could happen afterwards. She’d rather keep her job, thank you.

She sucked in a breath when Barrett’s teeth sunk into her tender skin, balling one hand into a fistful of his hair, while the other hand had her nails digging into his shoulder. “Fuck.” She hissed. “I don’t wanna be around when Neil comes here with hell to give.” Though at the same time, voyeur wasn’t her thing when she wasn’t in charge. Either she had control or nothing. At least that bit of her was consistent, drunk or not. “Someone’s bound to tell him.”

Once Barrett agreed, Angela was practically stumbling along behind him, her hand in his. That look he shot her had her head spinning. Or maybe that was the sudden movement of the pull. Either way, the pair was stumbling down the hall, mutually hanging onto the other for support. 

Honestly it seemed more like a recipe for disaster than anything else. 

“Your room’s closer, right?”

Angela looked around, blinking hard a few times to get a decent grasp as to where it was they were. She swayed in place, grasping onto Barrett’s shoulder when she thought she was about to fall. Crap. “Uhhh… I think so.” She replied, pretty sure her room was right down that hall. Tugging her partner along, the two stumbled towards the general direction of Angela’s room. It didn’t take them very long to find the right door, promptly falling in upon its opening.

Her room wasn’t the fanciest. A small collection of CDs and a stereo sat in one corner, half of her shelves were adorned with various toys and other sexy goodies. Angela paid none of it any attention, she just wanted on Barrett’s mouth again. She pushed him against the wall - or maybe the fell that way, who knew - and started at it again. Chest to chest, lips to lips and tongue forcing its way around the inside of the man’s mouth. 

[buck-and-bear-it]

There was a slurring mumble of agreements between the two of them that Neil finding out was probably just going to be a nuisance. As long as they shuffled off the floor, there wouldn’t be any trouble. Or, at least, they could hope so. Mostly, they weren’t that concerned. They were entirely too drunk to really care. As they attempted to stumble down the hallway, Barrett wondered when the last time he’d talked to Angela was. If he had been sober, he would have realized the answer was never. There had been eye contact every now and again-- some sort of tacit agreement not to bother each other, he supposed-- followed by minding their own god damn business. Barrett was pretty good at walking away from situations that didn’t interest him, though, so perhaps he was the only one truly minding himself. Maybe she had been interested in a conversation and he had ignored him. He was rather bad at reading social cues.

Well, if that had been the case, it didn’t seem to be one anymore. With an alcoholic catalyst, they had rushed through the conversation portion straight to the tongues in throats action. And really, the time between sitting on stools and battling against the wall was more of a blur than anything. He probably wouldn’t remember it in the morning. Although... he probably wouldn’t remember quite a bit of this in the morning. Not that this was a primary concern at the moment. He was more interested in the fact that his back was up against the wall, which was rarely an occurrence in his bedroom.

Well, it wasn’t his bedroom, was it? Besides, it wasn’t like she had enough force behind herself to really do anything rough or forceful. Not that he had the energy either. It was just a perfectly sloppy mess. The effort to remove Angela’s top was so taxing that he almost forgot they were making out. Somehow, he managed the attempt, although even he wasn’t sure how. Fingers tugged at thick black straps, Barrett’s face displaying what was certainly not enough patience to manage to unclasp the bra. Actually, it had so many straps that he wasn’t even certain he could manage it sober. Teeth nipped at bare shoulder and gripped at fabric, nails tracing her under bust with much less grace than he thought he currently had. Well, that was fine. He wasn’t known for his grace... although even his aggressive and demanding voice fell flat in his drunkenness. “Hey... Take this off.”

He sounded disgruntled and horny, but not dominating or authoritative. This was new for him, but he wasn’t really very aware of it. Well, he didn’t need to get used to it-- it wasn’t often that he was drinking. Besides, drinking with Angela? He was certain it wouldn’t happen again. Tongue trailed on smooth and soft flesh, not content until it could reach the fleshy pink of her nipples. Certainly, the woman under his touch wouldn’t be content either.

[bodypaintspecialist-blog]

I like my odds

Suck - Below Waist

Well, that was certainly one way to start off the game. Angelo could barely keep the grin off his face as he moved over to the grouch, kneeling in front of him - luckily, for once they weren’t holding the game in the lounge, so there was no rule limiting what could happen. He pushed apart Barrett’s legs, hand cupping and rubbing him through his jeans as he looked up at him with a playful expression. “So, are you sure you don’t want to go again?”

The response he got was permission enough for the artist - not being shoved off was definitely a good sign - and he made quick work of opening the button and zipper. Instead of pulling his underwear off completely though, he simply pulled it down a fraction and leaned in, pressing his lips to the man’s hip. This quickly progressed to a gentle bite before he was sucking on the skin, long enough to be sure he would leave a mark before pulling off. He did Barrett’s pants back up, grinning as he did. “If you do, you’re more than welcome to come see me.”

[buck-and-bear-it]

He wanted to die, didn’t he? Barrett glared in response to the expression on Angelo’s face, hoping to shoo it away. It wasn’t quite a grin, but in any moment, he was sure it would be. And that irritated him just as much as any toothy grin this idiot could make. Before he could fully perfect his offensive strategy, however, Angelo pushed his legs apart. He wasn’t really going to do this here, was he? ... Yes. Yes he was.

Barrett didn’t know how to react at this point. His mind and body were in conflict as Angelo’s hand pressed through his jeans, an aching temptation developing where he wished it wouldn’t. Memories of the artist’s mouth cropped up and, unfortunately for him, it seemed more a muscle memory than anything else. The noise of his zipper, the slight tug of elastic... Barrett’s expectations were anything but upheld in the end though. Angelo’s lips pressed against his skin, remaining until he had left a visible mark on him.

There was the rearranging of denim which tucked away a slightly larger package than what was originally there-- then there was that grin. The one he had been trying so hard not to allow on his face. It was the next comment that really pissed him off, though. The brunette glared at the back of the artist’s head as he walked away, biting his lip to stop himself from yelling at him. He wanted his fist to take care of that stupid grin... Hopefully, he had a client soon. He was certain his clients could handle a good punch... Although he had something else he would have to take care of first.

[buck-and-bear-it]

What's my prize?

12. Kiss my character anywhere but the lips

Barrett remembered the previous ‘prize’ and was all but happy that this was something more in his comfort zone. For him, it was the same as work at this point. There was never a middle ground, though. He was either perfectly unfazed with something or it was absolutely not happening. Nonchalantly, he gave her the go-ahead, “Anywhere is fine.”

[buck-and-bear-it]

“It’s your prize.” Barrett commented, but assumed she had been fine with her own action. For some reason, this seemed to be a bit better in her eyes as well. He wondered if their reasoning was the same… Although she seemed to blush a bit anyway. Why did it seem like she had been more embarrassed by touching his nose with her tongue than kissing his forehead? Well, he couldn’t really judge. He was more embarrassed with hugs than a kiss on the forehead. He hadn’t realized their height difference as much as he had when Meg required him to lean over for such acts. It was a strange, unfamiliar thing for him as well, which made him all the more conscious of it. 

Before he realized it, Barrett had his hand on the girl’s head and was eyeing their height difference. Definitely less than a foot but it was still substantial. Was she wearing heels last time they chatted? No, he didn’t think so. Maybe they just weren’t so close. Or maybe it was because they were sitting down. He might simply not have cared at that moment. After another minute or two of this, he realized Meg was probably confused, so he pulled his hand away, retreating from both the action and the thought process. It didn’t really matter anyway. “Sorry.”

[enchantedxmelody-blog]

The feeling of Barrett’s hand on her head caught Meg off guard. After having pulled away and stepped back he was now doing something akin to measuring the height between them. She only knew this because it was something she did all the time. When he pulled his hand away and apologized, she only stared blankly in response. Then an almost determined look crossed her face.

The blonde then reached her hands up, put one atop his head and another hers and proceeded to try and figure out the difference there. It took a couple of tried of pulling her hands away and re-checking. When she was satisfied with her own arm length measuring she came to the conclusion that there was around an 8 or 9 inch difference. That was… Quite a lot actually. Meg’s cheeks puffed out into a pout at the sight of how much shorter than him she was. “Urff… Everyone’s so tall around here.”

[buck-and-bear-it]

Barrett hadn’t expected the stubborn attempt to determine their height difference. Then again, he didn’t know what to expect from Meg, considering he didn’t know her well enough. The expression that followed, however, he recognized from previous encounters. Every expression she made was colored in her personality, but there were two that Barrett quite enjoyed. This one happened to be one of them. Although that was only something he realized in that instant, his lips cracking into what seemed like a small smile. It was the most he could do to keep from laughing.

“What are you doing?” He knew exactly what she was doing, but he couldn’t help himself from asking. That natural edge of aggressiveness in his tone was nowhere to be found. Was she on her toes? She looked like a chipmunk. The taller fellow pressed the palm of his hand lightly against her head, as if commanding her to lower herself, before tussling her hair. “You’re just too short.”

[buck-and-bear-it]

🔵🔵🔵🔵🔵🔵

“There’s this lore I was taught as a kid,” Barrett wasn’t sure when this conversation had started. An hour ago? Three hours ago? In this case, it was probably best to count their time in shots. Shots never lied… but there was room for human error. And the room only increased with the counter. The bartenders never helped, either. The goal was always to get the customer as drunk as possible while still leaving them room to get off their property before they throw up. Barrett and Angela weren’t quite there yet, but they were right at the borderline of drunk and too drunk. “there are four huge ass dragons who destroy the world and– get this– in destroying the world they’re actually creating a new one simultaneously.”

“It’s some sort of cycle. Like the seasons.” Barrett was pretty good at giving drunk history lessons, if he did say so himself. There was a pause in the lesson with the clink of glasses and another shot taken and the man paused to look at Angela, making sure he could still determine all of her features.

“And we’re halting that process from repeating again.”

Damn. This girl really had a killer body. The kind that was tough and sturdy and could probably force someone on the ground. Well, from what he had heard, that was a pretty good advantage in her bedroom scene.

“So does that mean, in continuing to reb– to build society, we’ll eventually surpass these divine beings?”

Barrett wasn’t sure his sentences weren’t slurred at this point, even though he certainly stumbled with his words a bit, but he moved closer to Angela anyway, trying to make his point. He also made eye contact, which made him realize how long her eyelashes were. The tangent he was on, which had been irritating him to no end as they drank together, was becoming less and less of an interest.

“Or maybe we’re likening ourselves to gods already.”

Fuck the dragons.

Her lips seemed much more interesting.

[buck-and-bear-it]

Going out with a bang sounded both fantastic and slightly terrifying. Barrett wasn’t sure he disliked the idea, but he certainly loved the theory. He couldn’t remember the last time he had had a proper conversation with someone. Even if he couldn’t give himself credit on the entirety of the conversation, he was glad the two of them got together. Drinking alone was never as much fun.

When their lips meet, Barrett only decided that was a bonus. He wasn’t really thinking about where they would end up at the end of the night. He wasn’t even thinking about the fact that he had never done this before. Mostly, he just accepted the tacet agreement to their make out session. Their lips met in an unusual way. Normally, it would probably be more aggressive on both of their parts. In this case, just the action in itself was more than enough of a struggle. Barrett couldn’t help but enjoy the feeling of their tongues meshed together, knees intertwined awkwardly as they closed what little gap remained. The man slipped off the bar stool (not on purpose) and allowed his hands to glide across her waist, investigating her through the confines of fabric. Their bodies pressed together in an uncharacteristically confident matter that Barrett didn’t seem to notice. This was different and unusual, sure, but it wasn’t bad. Whatever thoughts compelling him to stop had been drowned out by the deafening music at least five minutes ago.

[domme-angela-deactivated2016031]

It was a bit of a mess, but at least it was a hot mess. Sure, Angela wasn’t even 100% aware if her feet were on the ground or on the bottom rung of the bar stool, but at least she got what she wanted.

The way their lips moved against each other was sloppy and frantic, like all that mattered was this small thrill instead of the air they so desperately needed. For a few moments, the brunette forgot to breathe until she realize her nose was still perfectly functional. Angela’s arms were around Barrett;s neck and one hand was tangled into the strands of his hair. It was dizzying, but in a good way. She liked it, and usually Angela hated kissing strangers. 

While the pair went about shoving their tongues into the others’ throats, various workers and clients called out at them. Some whistled, others cheered briefly but most of them took a jab and told them to get a room. 

Angela pulled away despite herself, annoyed at the cat calling. “We can’t really stay here you know.” The words tumbled out of her mouth in a flurry, either due to the alcohol or the making out or both. 

[buck-and-bear-it]

This whole experience felt incredibly unusual to Barrett. Arms locked around his neck, fingers running through his hair... he wondered for a moment if this was normal. A moment later, however, he remembered that he worked at a brothel, and normal couldn’t really be defined in a place like this. The moment after that, he was lost in the strange, alcohol-fueled desire to keep one another from breathing. He hadn’t really been paying attention to the noise around him. He was rather good at turning everything into white noise, and he only became better at it the more he drank-- although it would eventually lead to him passing out if he would have continued their little escapade.

“Huh?” Barrett pulled away as she parted their lips, a bit confused for a moment. He moved to her neck, breath heavy on her as he registered the words coming out of her mouth. They couldn’t... Oh. The heavy-handed man finally started registering the noises around him, and as soon as he did, he couldn’t help but become a bit irritated. Well... a little more than a bit. He tried to glare at the audience, but he couldn’t focus his gaze as well as he would have liked. “Can’t I just knock them across the floor? Bothersome...”

Barrett frowned, digging his teeth lightly into Angela’s neck. He didn’t really want to stop... but he knew they would be yelled at if they kept this up here, even if they didn’t have any clients. Besides, the way those words fell in a rushed waterfall through her pink lips were persuasion enough. “Fine.”

“Come on.” Blue eyes made a piercing and lustful gaze before pulling away, eyeing the best possible way to get back to his room. Actually, her room was probably closer. Grabbing his companion’s hand, he pulled her along, not sure who was steadying who at this point. Or maybe they were just making each other worse off. “Your room’s closer, right?”

[buck-and-bear-it]

I like my odds (Rip)

Touch lips

Meg wasn’t really the type to try her hand at this sort of thing... or at least that was what he had assumed. He offered to keep people from bothering him, but didn’t expect to find her rolling the die. Really, he didn’t expect anyone to bother playing along. Touching lips wasn’t so bad, though. It could have been a lot worse, at least. As Barrett moved closer, he wasn’t sure if he wasn’t talking because he had nothing to say, or because his tongue was caught halfway down his throat. There was a slight pink to his cheeks as he moved closer, his hand reaching up to cup her cheek. His thumb trailed across her lips softly, delicate and cautious. Her lips were as soft and supple as they appeared.

... This was a dangerous game. Really, the only thing he could think to make it worse was making it a drinking game. And hell if he knew who would last the night if that were to happen. His thoughts were trailing off, but his eyes were still on the elf’s lips. Realizing this, he pulled away immediately, commenting with a small, pointlessly aggressive, “What?”

[buck-and-bear-it]

✉

[SMS] Do you have a first aid kit?

[inboxideas]

Send me "I like my odds" and my character will roll sex dice and perform accordingly on your character

Sex dice website: http://www.dennyp.com/utilities/fun/sex_dice.htm

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[buck-and-bear-it]

🔵🔵🔵🔵🔵🔵

“There’s this lore I was taught as a kid,” Barrett wasn’t sure when this conversation had started. An hour ago? Three hours ago? In this case, it was probably best to count their time in shots. Shots never lied… but there was room for human error. And the room only increased with the counter. The bartenders never helped, either. The goal was always to get the customer as drunk as possible while still leaving them room to get off their property before they throw up. Barrett and Angela weren’t quite there yet, but they were right at the borderline of drunk and too drunk. “there are four huge ass dragons who destroy the world and– get this– in destroying the world they’re actually creating a new one simultaneously.”

“It’s some sort of cycle. Like the seasons.” Barrett was pretty good at giving drunk history lessons, if he did say so himself. There was a pause in the lesson with the clink of glasses and another shot taken and the man paused to look at Angela, making sure he could still determine all of her features.

“And we’re halting that process from repeating again.”

Damn. This girl really had a killer body. The kind that was tough and sturdy and could probably force someone on the ground. Well, from what he had heard, that was a pretty good advantage in her bedroom scene.

“So does that mean, in continuing to reb– to build society, we’ll eventually surpass these divine beings?”

Barrett wasn’t sure his sentences weren’t slurred at this point, even though he certainly stumbled with his words a bit, but he moved closer to Angela anyway, trying to make his point. He also made eye contact, which made him realize how long her eyelashes were. The tangent he was on, which had been irritating him to no end as they drank together, was becoming less and less of an interest.

“Or maybe we’re likening ourselves to gods already.”

Fuck the dragons.

Her lips seemed much more interesting.

[domme-angela-deactivated2016031]

Angela didn’t usually drink.

Considering her long and complicated past, she did her best to stay away from anything that could put her under an influence. This wasn’t so bad, though, as long as she didn’t throw up in the morning. Angela was sufficiently buzzed so that she was still coherent. 

More or less, at least.

It turned out that talking with Barrett was kind of awesome? Their banter was one of the most interesting and crazy she’d ever had. They talked about a little bit of everything… but the alcohol probably had a whole lot to do with that. Right now he was talking about stories he had known about since he was a kid. Dragons and both the end and beginning of worlds. 

“Or. maybe.” Angela began, continuing their senseless banter. “We’re just building up to our own cataclysmic collapse.” The word ‘cataclysmic’ didn’t come out right at all, but whatever. “Nothing lasts forever, might as well go out with a bang.”

Honestly though, she was only half paying attention. Words were only half in and half out of focus, and Angela only caught a fraction of what he was saying. 

She was too busy staring at the man in question.

From what she knew, Barrett was a dom too, and damn good at what he did. If she was a switch, she would actually consider having a go at him… though watching the way his mouth moved while he talked had her craving other things. How long had it been since she’d had a good kiss?

A while. Normally she didn’t like kissing people, but that was sober Angela. Drunk Angela was almost the exact opposite how how she usually was.

Eventually, something in Angela’s brain sort of went ‘fuck it’ and she unceremoniously pressed her lips against his.

[buck-and-bear-it]

Going out with a bang sounded both fantastic and slightly terrifying. Barrett wasn't sure he disliked the idea, but he certainly loved the theory. He couldn't remember the last time he had had a proper conversation with someone. Even if he couldn't give himself credit on the entirety of the conversation, he was glad the two of them got together. Drinking alone was never as much fun. When their lips meet, Barrett only decided that was a bonus. He wasn't really thinking about where they would end up at the end of the night. He wasn't even thinking about the fact that he had never done this before. Mostly, he just accepted the tacet agreement to their make out session. Their lips met in an unusual way. Normally, it would probably be more aggressive on both of their parts. In this case, just the action in itself was more than enough of a struggle. Barrett couldn't help but enjoy the feeling of their tongues meshed together, knees intertwined awkwardly as they closed what little gap remained. The man slipped off the bar stool (not on purpose) and allowed his hands to glide across her waist, investigating her through the confines of fabric. Their bodies pressed together in an uncharacteristically confident matter that Barrett didn't seem to notice. This was different and unusual, sure, but it wasn't bad. Whatever thoughts compelling him to stop had been drowned out by the deafening music at least five minutes ago.

[buck-and-bear-it]

💘

So at first I was like “This ship doesn’t even make sense” and then I stopped and realized Barrett could make accessories for Phoebe for her steampunk themes and Phoebe could give Barrett advice on bedroom things he doesn’t understand and it all works out in the end. So as a romantic ship, it would fall flat, but they could definitely have an interesting relationship.

[buck-and-bear-it]

✘

[SMS] [Draft] How the actual fuck do you tie people up without taking four hours this is a fucking disaster I’m going to break a lamp before I finish this knot I will smash this guy’s head in what the fuCK AM I DOING

[Followed by a bunch of drafts that just say fuck fuck fucking shit fuck etc.]

[enchantedxmelody-blog]

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Send ✉ for an 2 AM text Send ✘ for an unsent text Send ☠ for a threatening message Send ❤ for a lusty/loving/affectionate message Send ♣ for a drunk message

[buck-and-bear-it]

💘

These two would be very good at silently supporting each other?? Like gym bros but better. They could have serious discussions about things without either of them feeling like they have to worry too much about the other one would say (which is def a major problem for Barrett). It is probably the only ship where the conversation would be normal and work well, but the communication might not be as awesome. Like, if one of them was upset about something, the other one wouldn’t know what to do about it. I don’t know that they would share their feelings very well?? That sort of thing. Barrett would be super dominant in the bedroom though because he would know Forte wouldn’t laugh him off. Which would probably make their sex fantastic.

[buck-and-bear-it]

💘

I feel like this ship is a lot of one party getting hot and bothered and the other one just going along with it. I can also see them doing critiques on each others artwork. Like maybe Barrett is trying to figure out the anatomy of a flower to make it out of metal or wood or something and Angelo is like ‘u gotta do the thing’ and real discussions could come from this. But mostly it’s about the sex. And every time Barrett’s like “never again” and it always happens again. And Angelo gets really good at baiting him like it becomes one of his fav past times or something. And some days it’s just so obvious that Barrett gives in immediately like “why the fuck are you wearing an apron where are the rest of your clothes” transitions into immediate sex. And that would be the epitome of their relationship. It’s not that deep. I mean someone’s in deep, but not in an emotional way. If u know what I mean.

[reblogkarma-blog]

Send me "INTERRUPTION"

I’ll randomly generate a number from 1-31 to see how your muse interrupts mine! Mixture of safe & nsfw.

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