#poke him at your own risk lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bsxcrxts · 12 days

Note

I hate to sound like a broken record but I would love to hear a Drabble about tech w the pollen, like if you were both crushing really hard on each other and you wanted to spend time with him while he works on his studies and oops what's this jar of mysterious flower blossoms doing here in this little jar (be it tech or reader makes that mistake) and things happen

I am deeply sorry this comes like three months late 😭 but as my beloved TBB mutual and fellow sex pollen freak (affectionate) I owe this one to you and hope you enjoy <3

The Experiment - Tech x F!Reader

Content: 18+ MINORS DNI. basically the prompt! afab reader with gendered language (ie good girl), sex pollen (obvi lol), getting together, Tech being sweet in his own way, unprotected PiV, coming inside, praise kink (both ways tbh), workroom table sex (ooh fun) A/N: So much made up science in this fic. And a complete lack of safety protocols. For the plot. lol. Word Count: 2.9k :)

You poke your head into the room where Tech is deeply engrossed in whatever he's typing away on his datapad. He doesn't look up as you move across the space, but he greets you with a little nod of his head as you lean on the tabletop across from him a bit. You wouldn't interrupt him while he was this focused if you were any more of a stranger to him; in fact, you feel a little bit odd doing it even now, but you and Tech spend a lot of time together. He seems to generally welcome you hanging around his workstation, and if you didn't know any better, you'd say he was sometimes even a bit giddy to see you, happy to have someone around to listen to his long-winded scientific explanations.

"Am I bothering you?" you ask, watching him set his datapad down to start to tinker with a type of device you've never seen before. It seems likely that it's something chemistry related; another device attached to it appears to be malfunctioning.

"It's not possible for you to bother me by merely observing as I work," Tech says. "You are not disturbing me. I actually prefer your presence over others."

You feel a bit of heat rise to your cheeks but stay quiet, other than uttering a small thank you. Your feelings for Tech have only started to grow after you've begun keeping him company as he works, but you've always had a bit of a crush on him. It's hard to focus, sometimes, when he compliments you like that, though you tend to assure yourself it's often platonic or even accidental. Tech often blatantly states what's on his mind, so if he really liked you... wouldn't he have told you by now?

You watch his hands as he works, allowing yourself to be distracted. After a few moments, your curiosity about whatever he's studying gets the best of you.

"So what's that?" you ask, gesturing to a small jar sitting nearest you, across the table from Tech. There are flowers in the jar, incredibly red, and an abundance of blooms settled on the bottom of the jar. "Something you picked up while you've been out on missions?"

Tech looks up from his work finally, eyes settling on you. "Yes, that is a native plant species on an outer rim planet we briefly visited. It was implied to me there by the locals that the flowers could be used as a type of weapon, but I cannot identify the reasoning behind that assumption."

"The flowers aren't poisonous or toxic or... something?"

"The local fauna are not avoidant towards the blooms, nor can I find any documentation of such qualities. In fact, I can hardly find documentation on this species at all. So, I am aiming do my own experiment on the flowers myself, but first I had to calibrate some of this equipment."

You nod. "And you're... sure this is safe for you?" You venture. You know him well enough to understand that both he and the rest of his squad are well-known risk takers.

"The blooms should be, at a minimum, safe to handle. Myself as well as the locals touched them when I first acquired them with no ill effects. My hypothesis is that the bloom must be heavily concentrated or ingested to be considered dangerous," he answers, tone even and betraying no concern.

"Alright," you say, shrugging, trusting him. Tech is incredibly smart, he is very rarely wrong, and you're no toxicologist either; you know even less than he does about this mystery plant.

Tech looks up at you again, the final piece on the equipment clicking into place in his hands. "Would you like to assist me on some of the easier steps of this experiment?"

"Just the 'easier' steps, huh?" you laugh. You push back a little at the perceived dig at your own intelligence.

"I assume there is still a level of risk once the plant is processed, and before I identify any toxicity levels that may possibly arise, which you may find unacceptable to be involved in. And one which the thought of exposing you to unnecessarily, does not sit well with me." Tech corrects you in a straightforward but not unkind manner, then states plainly, "However, I didn't want to exclude you entirely."

The heat comes rushing back to your face. In his voice, in his cadence, knowing him how you do, it sounds like a compliment again. Tech looks up at you from where he sits so genuinely, waiting for your answer, seemingly oblivious to your flustered state.

"Yeah," you nod. "Yeah, you're probably right. I'll help you."

"In that case, please hand me a few of the blossoms," he asks. You reach for the jar, unscrewing the lid, almost reverently retrieving a few flowers. Nothing happens as you handle them, and subconsciously, you relax.

The blooms are pretty, really. Vibrant and delicate. You look at them in your palm, almost transfixed as you reach your hand out to Tech. Your hand brushes against his, only barely, as the blooms leave your grasp, but that's when it happens.

It's almost comical, how fast you yank your hand away, a small cloud of pollen suddenly erupting from the center of the flower in Tech's hand, a little poof of yellow dust settling in the air. He rushes to the door, sealing any contamination to this room.

"What was that?" you ask, nervously.

"I am... unsure," Tech admits. "I have never seen it happen. The blossoms appear to have a volatile method of dispersing their pollen."

"Is it dangerous?"

Tech is uncharacteristically quiet, typing rapidly on his datapad.

"Tech," you demand a bit, feeling wary, a warmth spreading through your body. It isn't necessarily unpleasant, not yet, but your uneasiness has set you on edge.

"The locals claimed it could 'make anyone do anything'..." he trails off. "It is possible," he hesitates, "that I have misinterpreted this flower's use as a weapon, and instead, it is a libidinous agent."

"What does that mean," you ask, feeling a bit helpless.

"It could be an aphrodisiac," he explains neutrally, but his brow is furrowed. "Either way, we will find out shortly."

You bite your lip. The relief you feel of the blossoms not likely being poisonous is quickly replaced by a bit of a panic at being doused by a sex pollen and essentially quarantined with the man you've been crushing on for months. The feeling of warmth from earlier has morphed into a burn, a need, sitting low in the pit of your stomach.

Tech is still typing away on his datapad, but he has turned his body away from you. His posture, usually terrible, is worse than ever, as he is practically hunched over the screen, rapidly typing something.

"So, uh," you say, feeling a discomfort between your thighs form, "what do we do?" you ask, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, sitting on the edge of the table to prevent your knees from giving out. You cross and uncross your legs mindlessly, trying to appear normal, as if unaffected by the pollen.

It isn't easy. You've been attracted to Tech for a long time. Resisting the pull to him is hard even when you're not drugged.

"There is no known cure for the effects we are experiencing, as there is no record of the effects themselves, so we have little choice but to let the pollen take its course. I am documenting my symptoms. I suggest we also document yours."

"Tech, I don't think–" you start, then sigh. "Okay, um, I have a headache, and tenseness in my muscles, and a burning sensation everywhere, I mean, it feels really, really hot in here, and... I honestly don't think I should talk about the rest." You fidget again, squirming against the table. The arousal building in your body is nearly unbearable, but you resist rocking your hips against the table in the way you want to.

Tech turns to look at you, his brown eyes narrowing behind the amber of his goggles. His eyes actually trail down your body to where your legs meet your hips, and you have to physically turn away from him before you say something rash.

You know it's impossible to hide the other symptoms from him, because you've both inhaled the pollen. He knows exactly how you're feeling. You know exactly how he is feeling. You know if you looked at him, you'd see a bulge in his black under-armor, and your patience would snap.

Tech continues to stare at you. To almost study you, as you shift in discomfort and need. You can feel it; his watchful gaze on you, in any other situation welcomed, though flustering, now is nearly unbearable. As if you are now the experiment. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see he is equally restless, though his typing on his datapad must be distracting him to some degree. That too, is falling apart, if the way he has sat down and begun bouncing his leg rapidly is any indication.

Do not look at him, your mind screams at you.

Look. LOOK, touch, tell him, tell him everything, your body begs.

You manage to focus on the wall to your left for nearly five minutes straight, which is hardly an impressive number under any other circumstances.

"How long is this feeling going to last?" you choke out.

"It is unlikely I could predict that number with any certainty. It may be that the symptoms never go away, or may drive us to madness without... manual stimulation. That may be the most effective antidote, as it were."

The look on your face must not be embarrassed enough, because he keeps talking.

"These are less than ideal circumstances," Tech starts, "to confess to you the feelings I have for you."

What?

"I have weighed the pros and cons of telling you sooner. I'm somewhat upset with myself that I haven't, as this might not be so awkward now if I had. I've noticed your increased breathing rate around me, as well as your tendency to seem eager to watch my work even when it cannot possibly entertain you. I've repeatedly attempted to compliment you, to subtly show my emotions, though I'm fairly certain it has not landed well. Regardless, I have come to hope that you do return my affection."

You're pretty sure your eyes are as wide as dinner plates as you turn to look at him.

"Unless I am wrong?" Tech offers. He has a vulnerable look on his face; he'd never mess with you like this anyway, you know that, but when you look at him, he appears so genuine and desperate that the dam threatens to break.

"You're not wrong," you say.

"I rarely am."

You can't contain yourself anymore, really. You're across the room and in his lap before you can think; there's not much left of your brain that isn't clouded by either the pollen or Tech's confession to you. And then his mouth is on yours, kissing you and claiming you, heated and direct, and so very different compared to that soft confession he just gave you mere seconds ago.

You grind in his lap, the feeling of his bulge against your already wet and needy cunt almost instantly soothing the burning sensation coursing through your veins. As soon as the feeling fades it returns though, with a vengeance that makes you shudder and moan against him, folding in on yourself. It's not enough, not yet. Under different circumstances, you'd gawk at the bulge in his under-armor, kiss down his body, slow down and really appreciate this.

But you can't. You burn.

"I need you," you whine, and you almost hate how desperate you sound, if not for the fact that it makes Tech's hips buck against your own and his eyes widen.

"Say it again," he requests, but he's already complying, standing to lay you onto the table, tilting you back and pulling your hips to the edge. The pollen is having a great effect on him, too, and he seems unusually impatient; you wonder if things were different if he may have made you wait or beg for his attention.

"I fucking need you," you grit out, still trying to rut against him even positioned like this, back arching whenever his clothed cock manages to bump up against your clit. The layers of your pants and underwear are suddenly the most offensive thing you've ever felt, and you rush to undress, kicking off your lower layers until they're barely on, hanging around one leg. Tech has pulled his cock from his pants, sliding into your waiting cunt with one thrust. It shouldn't be achievable, not with his size, but the pollen has made you so wet and open that you take him effortlessly.

"You f-feel, ah, e-exquisite," Tech sighs. "Take me so well."

You've never heard him stutter before. You can't blame him; everywhere your skin meets his is a feeling of thrill, an almost soothing warmth instead of the awful burning sensation from before.

"Is t-this working for you, love?" Tech continues. "Is this what you needed?"

"Fuck yes," you whine at the new pet name, unsure of how Tech is even thinking clearly enough to be asking you such things as his hips slam into you. Meanwhile you say the first thing that comes to your mind, "Needed you, needed your cock inside me. Always want you s' bad."

Tech almost loses it then, but shudders and slams his hips into you again instead, caught up on the 'always' portion of your statement.

"Good, you're so good," he praises you softly, in direct contrast to the heady and animalistic way he's rutting his cock into you, his hands pinning your thighs open.

You gasp, never thinking you'd see Tech like this. He's typically methodical, precise, but the way he's fucking you right now is anything but. Through the pollen, you don't have the presence of mind to analyze what you thought your first time with Tech would be like; all that matters is how amazing he's making you feel now, the sound of his cock in your wet cunt as his thrusts grow sloppy practically makes your eyes roll back and you whine.

"M'close already," you rush out, the feeling of the effects of the flowers intensifying tenfold. "You feel so, oh–"

The table is digging into your back, the pollen is rushing through both of your veins, you feel crazed, but you've also never felt this good.

"I-I am not going to last either," Tech states, clearly also a mess. His goggles have slipped down his nose and been pushed back haphazardly, and are now slightly askew; his face is flushed, his eyes dilated so wide they're nearly black. He slips a hand to your clit, and, impressed with his clear thinking of your pleasure in spite of the pollen, and the rush of sensation that shoots through you at his touch, it's all you need.

Mere moments later, you clench around him, and the strength of your orgasm is something you've never, ever felt before, by your hand or anyone else's. You moan his name, bearing down hard around his cock, and he nearly doubles over.

"Good girl, good, good girl," he praises you, "Did s-so well for me," he continues, leaning down and murmuring into your ear as you finish, and it sends aftershocks wracking through your body. He's helpless but to follow behind you soon. Now that you've cum, he seems to have surrendered entirely to the brain fog created by the pollen, thrusting into you like nothing else matters, chasing his high.

"W-where?" he stutters again, ever as considerate, though he knows it would take every ounce of his willpower to fight the flower's effects and pull out from your cunt now.

Luckily for him, you don't want him to.

"Inside," you breathe, "Need it inside of me," and it's not an exaggeration, as you can still feel the effects of the pollen trying to return even after you've finished; you're pretty sure you literally need him to cum inside you to be free of the symptoms.

His orgasm is just as strong as yours had been, and he nearly collapses on top of you, shoving his cock into your cunt as you feel him twitch and spill inside of you. Tech's eyes never leave yours; his brow furrows and his mouth falls slightly agape as he maintains eye contact with you while he cums. His beautiful gaze once again feels welcome on your frame. It sends you into another weak orgasm, finishing around him, milking his cock, until he can take it no longer and pulls away from you, collapsing into the chair, leaving you lying on the table. The two of you are silent suddenly, but for both of you panting with exertion.

A few moments pass before you sit up, perched on the edge of the table, and find yourself feeling very vulnerable. You eye Tech, slouched in the chair just a few inches from you, and wordlessly, you slide back down into his lap, where he wraps a tentative arm around your waist.

Another few moments pass before he clears his throat.

"Please forgive me for my miscalculation," he says into your shoulder, pressing a light kiss there.

"What do you mean?"

"I should not have exposed you to danger by underestimating the flower blooms. Something worse may have happened."

"But I really like what did happen."

"As did I," Tech says. "I take it this is not the only time you would entertain such... attention from me?"

"Far from it," you laugh lightheartedly, pulling back from where you've tucked your head over his shoulder to look at him. "But we can skip the flowers next time, since we know how the pollen affects people now." you joke.

"You are not open to more experimentation?" Tech asks.

"Tech," you gasp, mock-offended.

"Kidding, love."

"Well," you hum back, "maybe some pre-negotiated experimentation isn't out of the question."

Tech's eyebrows raise and a little smile tugs on the corners of his mouth. The two of you are going to have so much fun together.

#tech ♥️#tbb tech x reader #tbb tech smut #tech smut #tbb smut #tbb x reader #tech x reader #the bad batch smut #sorry if this one isn't all that I honestly can't tell if it hits or not😭

235 notes · View notes

appocalipse · 2 years

Note

prompt idea! dramatic confession of love in the rain with friends to lovers reader & eddie. maybe like arguing outside about the fact that somethings been off with one of them & demanding an answer, love confessing ensues then BAM! rain kiss 🫢

i love this request so much, i adore writing love confessions! ♥ | 1.7k words (got a little carried away lol)

It started with a simple question.

"Do you mind getting another ride home today?" Eddie had said.

You didn't mind, not really. Of course, you used to take every opportunity to spend time with him, but you could understand that he had his own life and sometimes his plans didn't line up with yours. It was okay.

When he explained the reason behind the question, however, you felt yourself wither and dwindle like a dying flower.

"I'm going to take Aubrey home, so...you know."

You did know. Aubrey lived on the other side of town, completely off the route you and Eddie took to get home every day. He wasn't just giving her a ride; it was something. Something else. Maybe some kind of date, even.

Date.

You felt your heart three times heavier as you forced a smile and said, almost capable of hearing the tiny pieces of it tinkling inside your own chest, "Oh, sure. It's okay."

And then, before you could stop yourself, you did the stupidest thing one could possibly do; you had asked.

"So…did she ask you out on a date or something?"

You'd poked him in the ribs playfully then, trying to look more relaxed than you really felt as the words left your mouth.

If Eddie noticed it, he didn't let it show. He actually laughed, looking a little embarrassed, and replied, "Actually, I kind of asked her."

Wonderful.

You couldn't stop your eyebrows from rising then, whatever's left of your heart from breaking. You tried to avoid looking like the kicked puppy you felt. Probably didn't succeed as much as you'd like to say.

In general, you were good at doing this — you'd been doing it ever since you realized your feelings for Eddie Munson went far beyond a mere affection between two good friends. It was almost second nature — both being in love with him and hiding it.

Eddie hadn't noticed anything wrong when you smiled that day, just as he doesn't notice anything wrong with the smile you're giving him now, in the school hallway, a week later.

He's so blind when it comes to you.

"I'm not going home with you today," you tell him, closing your locker and packing your backpack carefully.

It's been no less than torture letting Eddie drive you around in his van for the past few days; his van, where everything smells like him, where he strikes up conversations and tells jokes and makes you laugh like everything is fine.

Because everything is fine to him. You're the one who couldn't help but fall in love. Like an idiot.

You didn't want to risk him finding out that whatever he had going on with Aubrey made you jealous, though, so you'd forced yourself to let him pick you up and drive you home from school every day while he remained blissfully unaware.

He seems surprised when your words sink in.

"No?"

"I have to go somewhere else first," you lie. It comes off easily when you're not looking at him.

"It's all right, I'll go with you."

"No, it's fine. I think it'll take a little while."

"I don't mind."

Smile, just smile. "Eddie, really, it's okay."

"It's raining a lot," he argues, looking awfully worried. "You can't just walk home. Do you even have an umbrella with you?"

"Yes," another lie. It's downhill from here, you can tell. "Don't worry."

You feel like you're going to get burned any moment now if you don't get away from Eddie.

Most people have already gone home — you've been studying in the library and Eddie's been at Hellfire with the boys, so you two had stuck behind. The empty hallway makes everything seem worse somehow, his worried gaze on you heavier.

He lets you take three steps before grabbing your arm.

"Wait," he says, brows furrowed, eyes searching for something in your expression. Whatever it is, he finds it. "Something's wrong. What's wrong, Y/N?"

Eddie never had much of a sense of personal space — he's invading yours now, very much, and everything just got a lot more complicated; his fingers around your elbow are warm, the eyes that stare back at you are kind. He smells the same as always: leather, spearmint, cigarette smoke masked by cheap cologne.

You look at your arm and wonder what are the odds you'll be able to break free and walk out the front door without him following you. Not good.

"Nothing," you manage to say. "Nothing is wrong. What are you talking about?"

Perhaps the fake smile is losing its power, you think, because Eddie doesn't look like he'd be giving up anytime soon.

"Something is off with you these days," he insists.

"Eddie, look, I need to go-"

"Have I done something wrong?"

"What?" you sound horrified, because you are horrified; as if Eddie would ever be able to intentionally hurt you. It would have been funny if you weren't so sad. "No, of course not!"

"Then why are you avoiding me?"

"I'm not, I-" It's hard to get the words out with him so close, with his hand on your arm, with his eyes on yours-

Oh, how you'd like to disappear right now.

“Did I forget something?” Eddie looks terribly guilty, even though there's nothing to blame himself for. "Your birthday is still pretty far, so-"

You hate this.

"Eddie-" you try, but he's too far inside his own head to hear. He's probably going over a list of things he could have done to make you mad right now.

“-did we make any plans that I forgot?”

"No, I-"

“Did I say something wrong? Shit, I did, didn’t I?”

“Eddie-”

"-I'm sorry if I said- I don't know what I said, but I am sorry, I-"

“I love you.”

It's a mistake. You instantly know that, you know that the very moment the words leave your mouth without permission, a confession you never meant to make. One look at the way Eddie's entire body seems to tense up, at how his lips freeze mid-sentence, parted but not uttering any words, any sound... it's more than enough to tell you it was a fucking mistake.

Time seems to slow down, each second stretching impossibly beyond normal. The only sound that can be heard is the rain. Heavy, rhythmic, coming down without pause.

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

You pull your arm back and pretty much run towards the door as if you might distance yourself from the stupid words you just blurted out by doing so.

You think you hear a mumble of "shit" behind you, but you don't stop to look, don't turn around to be sure. Your eyes are prickling and you can taste the tears that ain't coming.

Rain. You're still running anyways. You're soaked and still running, stumbling because it's hard to see through the storm now, hair sticking to your neck, heavy breathing pushing your chest up and down, your face wet from both the rain and your tears.

The rain...almost as cruel as whoever was responsible for making you fall in love with a friend like Eddie.

A friend who's now calling your name — a yell in the distance muffled by the sound of the rain and of your breaking heart. You ignore it. You can't look at him. Not now.

He insists.

“Shit! You- you can't just tell me you love me and walk away! HEY!”

You avoid the hand that tries to grab your arm this time and keep walking across the parking lot as fast as you can.

But did luck ever stay on your side?

No.

Your head bumps right into Eddie's chest.

He holds you by the shoulders, palms gentle on your now cold skin, eyes gentler when you lift your chin up to look at him. You try to back away, attempting to squirm out of his grasp.

Not this time, though. Eddie holds you tight this time.

"Are you out of your mind?" he says, shouting to be heard over the storm...or maybe just because he's angry. "You can't just storm off like that with weather like this!"

Eddie's hands slide along your arms and then drop from your fingers.

He's taking his leather jacket off.

You take a step to the right to try and go around him, seizing the opportunity; he, however, steps to the left and holds the jacket over your head — as if you weren't already soaked from head to toe. As if he wasn't soaked from head to toe, too.

Eddie looks angry.

And too close.

Of course he looks angry, you think, I blew it.

“Eddie-”

“You're an idiot,” he says. “How could you just take off running like that? You could get fucking pneumonia out here!”

“I didn't mean to-” he's close, very close, and you feel silly, high, dizzy. Everything and nothing at the same time. The words you want to say are lost inside your mind like a paper boat drifting at the sea.

Eddie is still holding his damn jacket over your head like the goddamned gentleman he is.

Despite the closeness, you feel like you need to yell in order to be heard, your voice high and hoarse. “Just let me go!”

You try again and again, but he skillfully foils every one of your plans to walk away from him.

"No!"

"I am sorry! I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't have said that, I just…I just need some time! Just give me time and I'll get over you, Eddie, I swear, and everything will get back to normal and you and I can just pretend it never happened-"

In a heartbeat, he's tossing the jacket to the floor and his lips are on yours.

You gasp, too surprised, too tense, and Edde slides a hand to the small of your back, pressing you against his body with something akin to desperation — both of you so entirely soaked from the rain, so entirely frightened, so entirely in love.

When the kiss ends, it's because both of you are out of breath; Eddie doesn't let the space between the two of you grow any further, though.

“Don't get over me,” he pleads, pretty much breathing into your mouth, forehead against yours, eyes fluttering closed. “Don’t ever get over me.”

It seems like your heart is about to jump out of your mouth. He leans in again and you don't have it in you to do anything other than the same.

Letting yourself be kissed is easy. Too easy. It also makes it easier to forget everything that brought the two of you here — the confession, the feelings you believed were unrequited until now… Aubrey.

Aubrey.

You realize you broke the kiss and whispered her name when Eddie opens his eyes to look at you.

“I mean, you and Aubrey…the date…”

He squeezes your waist and laughs, "The date lasted 10 minutes before she told me the obvious."

“Obvious?”

His smile grows.

“That I love you.”

#eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie x reader #eddie x you #edward munson #eddie x y/n #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n

8K notes · View notes

inzaynety · 11 days

Text

he's a biter! ⤫

➢ summary: once you’re in his sights, hoshina has no choice but to leave a mark; or all the times he thinks it’s okay to sink his teeth in you and a time you return the favor

➢ content: hoshina x fem!reader, 2460 words, biting, some blood, suggestive & sex / nsfw, 3+1 things, friendship with okonogi & gen

➢ notes: so this man single handedly brought me back all motivated lol also i caught up on the manga ahaha and reader is a commander 🥴

You could say that being bit by a Kaiju was inevitable.

Everyday, going out and defending the public from them is your job and it always comes with risks. Hell, your arm was nearly chomped off yesterday if you weren’t quick enough to dodge right then and there.

Scratches, bruises, scars—all were familiar and just part of the job. It hurts, it stings, it stays with you until you do so much fighting you can just brush it off as another Tuesday.

They were Kaiju. They didn’t care.

You hiss at the sharp pain on your shoulder, your face giving way to an exasperated expression as you try to finish making breakfast.

That was not from a Kaiju. This one cared.

His teeth are sunk into your skin with enough force to leave yet another lasting mark. You can feel Hoshina smile against you before he pulls off, pressing small pecks to the dents and priding himself in feeling you shiver in his arms.

“You’re an animal,” you say, pushing an egg onto his plate but don’t make a move out of his arms. His bare chest is warm and you want nothing more than to fall back to sleep at the feeling. But that would mean commending his actions and his head is big enough as is.

“Am I, sweetheart?” Hoshina’s voice is low and gravely from sleeping so deeply only minutes before he decided to insert himself into your personal space. His hands trail delicately along your waist as he noses along the column of your neck, “Ya never push me away so I bet yer lovin’ it…”

You don’t say anything and he takes that as your answer, chuckling when you huff. He watches as you place the very hot pan down before he begins finding another suitable spot to continue. He settles on the back of your neck and while this time his bite isn’t so sudden, it still stings nonetheless.

“See?” He gently licks at the forming bruise and the lilt in his voice doesn’t go unnoticed. “It’s a lil too late and I know ya said I couldn’t leave anythin’ while you work, but please? Can’t let my girl go without a few more.”

Weighing out the options in your head, you realize you could never say no to him. So for the rest of the day you sport new red accessories that feel itchy underneath your gear.

—

Okonogi is a good friend of yours and she, along with the rest of the Third and at your own station, knew of yours and Hoshina’s relationship.

Your presence at the Third Division base wasn’t expected but was certainly not unwelcome from the multitude of members coming up and asking for tips or an autograph (Iharu was guilty of this and received a plethora of pushups as punishment). But your reason for being there was a secret to them.

“What are you doing here?” The familiar glare on her glasses catches your eyes first. Despite having your title, you were friends first and foremost so the flick to your forehead wasn’t a surprise.

“Ow! What the hell?” She only motions you out of her chair and places her items that you only shifted around in the mission of finding a pen to make some doodles to leave there for her to find. “Is it a crime to want to see my friend from time to time?”

Okonogi sighs but there’s no annoyance on her face upon seeing you again. It had been a while since you’ve talked in person but you supposed a time outside of work would’ve been better. If anything, you took the opportunity to tag along with your station’s operations leader and members to head to third.

Sora pokes his head in, still starstruck being in the presence of your friend while simultaneously being the professional he was. “Miss Okonogi? Do these numbers look right?” She stands up from her chair and walks over to him, hovering over his shoulder and giving pointers.

You take the opportunity to sit in her chair yet again and swivel around, looking at all the monitors and suits in the room below the control area. Feeling the stare of the third’s operation members beside you, you turn your head and greet them.

“Welcome to our base, Commander!” One of the younger ones says and you laugh at his enthusiasm. You were about to say something until you felt a rather unexpected sting on the top of your right ear. Immediately, you cover it only to have your hand caught by the culprit.

“Yes, welcome Miss Commander.” Hoshina has that grin he always bears and the surrounding third members avert their gazes upon the situation their Vice-Commander has created. Okonogi and Sora watch from the side, unimpressed with what was about to unfold yet again.

You hadn’t had the chance to tell him you were visiting as you thought it would be the day you could surprise him. He had been in training with one of the newer recruits so it wouldn’t hurt to visit and sneak up on him. So imagine your own when he did it instead?

“Sosh—Vice Commander Hoshina, what are you doing?” He only shrugs and stands back up, smiling oh so innocently.

“Nothing really.” And he just up and walks out of the room, leaving you in a flustered mess. You couldn’t even face the eyes on you and the look of unamusement from Okonogi.

The way back to your division’s building was full of teasing remarks while Hoshina felt no shame at all in the confines of his office.

—

Narumi Gen is the Commander of the First Division. The strongest soldier with the eyes of the oldest numbered Kaiju. Narumi Gen is also the bane of your existence.

“I didn’t come all this way for you to shit on me!”

"Well, if you didn’t play so shit, maybe I wouldn’t!”

You’re both cooped up in your apartment away from the outside world, and with him barging in on your day off, you had no choice but to let him in at his persistence. That and with the threat of losing your BS5 to him after his own miraculously broke.

You roll your eyes when he sticks his tongue out at you but quickly return them to the game at hand. It was 2-1, best out of five with you in the lead for keeping the console you so definitely paid for, but your car was miles behind it and it was already the last lap. Gen was radiating smugness from beside you and you couldn’t even reprimand him for it when he passed the finish line with ease, not even giving you time to throw that last blue shell for the hell of it.

“Why’d you play so shit?” If you weren’t such close friends.

“Shut up.” You groan and stand up to refill your glass before the final round.

“Get mine, too.”

“No.” He knows you don’t mean it when you’ve already grabbed his cup so he’s content with pulling out his phone and posting a story about his victory. Stepping into the kitchen, you pull open the fridge door for the juice. As you’re pouring both cups, there’s a knock on your front door.

You place everything back and leave the cups on the counter as you go to answer it and your mood shifts when you see him.

Hoshina’s holding up bags of snacks with a wide smile that you can’t help but kiss him. He reciprocates and you would’ve spent more time there if not for the annoyance in your background.

“Come on, I gotta be back before 10 or Hasegawa’s gonna be on my ass!”

“Good!” Hoshina chuckles and closes the door behind him, following you back into the living room as you bring the drinks. And right at the site of him, Gen shoots up from the floor and points at Hoshina.

“Hey, what is this asshole doing here?”

“Nice to see you, too!”

Gen’s eye twitches and he gulps down the entirety of his juice. You’re in the background looking through the bags Hoshina brought with the knowledge of their one-sided rivalry. See, before you even got together with Hoshina, Gen would talk your ear off about how much he hated the guy and you prepared yourself for the worst for if you ever had to meet him.

Well, that backfired for your friend.

They continue to bicker until you wave around your controller, catching both of their attentions, “Wrap up your cat fight so I can win.” Gen gives a final scowl and sits on the couch for the finale. Hoshina, in a mindful attempt to give the other more space, sits on the floor between your legs, his back leaning on the couch with his cheek resting on your thigh.

The race starts and it’s a map you’re not so good with. That’s already a disadvantage on top of it being one of Gen’s favorites. The race goes on and the closest you can get is 2nd with Gen reining in at 1st for the last few laps. You click your tongue and hope that one of the blocks would give you some sort of miracle item.

Hoshina watches as you get so close to becoming first and immediately loses it once you turn a corner, feeling the frustration from behind him. The first thought that comes to mind might have not seemed beneficial in the moment, but it would kill two birds with one stone. Or, well, three.

He turns his head just a little bit and bites your leg. You make a noise and distract your friend beside you who can see what’s happening in his peripherals.

“What the hell? Don’t do that when I’m right here!” That’s just enough time for Gen to miss his last drift and allow you to pass him right as the finish line comes into view. Gen sees this and curses under his breath, throwing his held item he manages to get in the middle of it all (a blue shell, figures) to stop you in your tracks.

Though, he didn’t expect the boombox you’ve been saving.

Suffice to say Hoshina’s plan did the three things he accounted for: getting you out of that frustration, annoying Gen, and satisfying himself.

You were just happy you got to keep your BS5 for that week and Gen wished his eyes could’ve told him what was going to happen.

—

With the job comes a busy schedule, but at least the nights were for you two alone.

It’s humid in the bedroom but neither of you cared amidst the hushed gasps shared. Despite being far from the station it seemed that these quiet habits were hard to break thanks to a certain someone.

Your eyes are glazed over and Hoshina places a hand on your face to keep your attention on him. “Tired out?” You hum into his palm but shake your head. You can feel him shift inside you, slowing his movements to make sure you were there.

“Just a ‘lil more, please?”Hoshina crumbles under your words and what kind of lover would he be if he didn’t indulge you? He kisses you softly before running his hands down to your hips, lifting them up slightly and you sigh at the adjustment. “Soshiro!”

“I got you, darlin’, relax f’me.” It's hard when his words fire you up more than you’d like, but for him to continue you had to oblige. Soft caresses on your skin and whispers of sweet nothings in your ear brings you so, so close.

But it’s not enough.

His pace is slower this round, him being mindful of how many times you’d come already but he’s also holding himself back and you can see. Through the tears in your eyes you look up and see the sweat on his face, his neck, and dripping down his chest. He’s straining, veins prominent in his neck and arms are telling.

Lifting your arms up you wrap them around his neck, pulling him down and burying your face into his shoulder.

“Faster, please. Soshi—“ You can’t even get his name out as he’s already fulfilling your wishes. Your moans are right in his ear, driving him to reach both of your climaxes as soon as possible. It’s been hours since you first hit the bed and the feeling never gets old. Especially when he finds that spot in you that has you seeing white, and especially when he releases his warmth soon after yours.

The feeling’s too much, your nails scratching down his back and your body shaking from the last of the night. It’s right there in front of you and before you know it, you’ve latched your teeth onto his shoulder. A hybrid of a whine and moan escapes him with surprise as he tries to ride out the aftermath.

“O-Oh, shit.” He chuckles and his hips stutter, “That’s dirty, sweetheart. Not fair for ya to be doin’ that.” He , you release him and lay back onto the mattress and with the energy you have left, you look at him again. You wish you could remember the view forever.

Hoshina’s covered in the sheen of sweat, either just his or both of yours, and there’s a sly smile on his face. His crimson eyes are right on you with the most mischievous yet adoring look in them—the color of which matches the liquid seeping from the mark you just left.

“Wait, baby, you’re bleeding—“ You feel weak and disoriented but still have half the mind to try and reach to the bedside table for a tissue, but he catches you by the wrist.

Hoshina presses a kiss to the inside of your palm and settles you back onto the sheets, “Don’t worry about it, I can tell ya like lookin’ so enjoy it a lil more.” He lets go of your arm and leans down to place a light kisses to your neck, suckling on the soft skin he can reach. You were already teetering on the edge of sleep and his ministrations were aiding in that.

Your arms come up to pull him down to you and he doesn’t resist. Not like he would’ve anyway.

“Soshiro?”

“Mm?”

“I love you.” Your voice is quiet and you think he doesn’t hear it. But Hoshina starts to smile against your skin and bring you impossibly closer to him. Lifting himself up a bit, he catches your half-lidded gaze.

You always say this after every night you spend together and he never gets tired of it. You couldn’t deny it even if you wanted to, but he cherished you just as much.

“I love ya, too.”

#kaiju no. 8 x reader #kaiju no. 8 fluff #kaiju no. 8 smut #kn8 x reader #kn8 fluff #kn8 smut #hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader #hoshina #hoshina soshiro #soshiro hoshina x reader #soshiro hoshina #fics

210 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months

Text

Three for One 4

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: As a customer service associate, you’re used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what’s on the shelf.

Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale

Note: How are these getting longer lol

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me 💞

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

You wriggle helplessly as the man straddles you. You kick your feet into the carpeted floor and grunt into his palm. He’s strong and heavy but you can’t give up. And if you can’t win, you won’t make this easy.

He plants his hand between your shoulders, pinning your chest as he leans his weight on you. He grunts as you shift under him, pushing your knees into the ground as you try to bounce him off. You only manage to awkwardly press your ass into his crotch.

“Hey, stay fucking still,” he squeezes your jaw, glove still flush to your mouth, “and shut the fuck up.” You open and close your teeth, trying to find a catch. He snarls and squeezes you between his legs, “are you trying to bite me again? What the fuck?”

“She’s fucking feral,” the driver tosses over his shoulder.

“Shut up,” the man on you barks back, readjusting to one knee as he brings his other over your back, replacing his hand with his leg.

He fumbles around as you try to see anything in the dim of the van’s compartment. His hand slips as his other comes around, a piece of rough fabric rubbing on your cheek. He pokes it into your mouth with two fingers and you nearly gag on the dry wool.

“Shhhh,” he hushes you, “balls, she’s hard to put down.”

“Wasn’t my first choice, trust me.”

“Who let that jackass have final say?” The man over you grumbles.

He drags you with him and reaches above you. You see the edge of the roll of tape as he keeps you trapped under his knee. He swiftly sticks the tape over your mouth so you can’t spit out your gag. Next he grabs your wrists and pulls his knee away.

You tug on your arms, resisting as you keep up your fruitless flailing. No, no, no. You’re not going to just roll over and give in. Get off!

He forces your arms together, winding the end of the tape around your wrists, again and again, until they’re bound taut behind you. He’s panting almost as hard as you are as he plants his feet, standing half bent over you beneath the low ceiling of the fan.

“Damn, well, I didn’t expect her to be so fucking stubborn,” he snickers.

You flip over and shoot your foot up, straight into his crotch. He chokes on his laughter and drops the tape. He cradles between his legs and falls to his knees. He croaks as he catches himself on one hand.

“Goddamn it, you bitch, I was half-cocked,” he contracts as if he’s about to vomit.

You puff through your nose and bend your legs, curling back on your shoulders and using your weight to throw yourself forward. You roll onto your feet, the momentum lifting your ass up but not getting you all the way up. You try again and get one foot and one knee under you.

“What the fuck’s going on back there?” The driver asks as the van rocks with your movement.

“Nothing,” the other man groans and sits up, “nothing at fucking all.”

He swipes his leg across yours and has you slamming back to the floor, this time landing on your shoulder. You grunt and twitch at the jarring pain on your joint. He grabs your arm and hauls you closer. You’re both breathless as he retrieves the tape and fights to bring your ankles together.

He secures your ankles and lets you go. You lean on your hands and watch him as he sits back and swipes his hair away from his forehead. In the small cloud of light from the front of the vane, you see the angle of his jaw and the shaved side of his head.

“God,” he puts his hand over his pants, “I feel that in my throat.” He shakes his head, “don’t worry, pussy cat, you will too. I’m gonna be so fucking deep–”

“Ugh, dude,” the driver mutters.

“Don’t be a fucking prude,” the man stretches his leg out and nudges you with the toe of his boot, “we all know what the hell this is.”

You close your eyes, holding back the hot glaze of tears. You inhale deeply, trying to calm your nerves as they cluster in your chest. A million questions race through your mind but you can’t bring yourself to even imagine the answers.

🎀

The van idles in one spot. You temper your breaths as you listen. The driver gets out as the man in the back with you picks his nails with a knife. He started brandishing a while back. Does he really think you aren’t already scared out of your mind?

There’s some sort of grinding nose and footsteps in the gravel coming back to the van. You move, trying to see the front as the driver gets back in, slamming the door and jolting the entire vehicle. The other man pokes you with his toe, his way of warning you.

“Fucking gate,” the driver mutters as he shifts back into gear and leans on the gas.

You garble around the fabric in your mouth, not making much noise as you wiggle and turn to look at the other man. He yawns and examines the long blade, only a shadow as the darkness invades the van. There’s not much light around to colour the world.

“Almost there, pussy cat,” the man teases, "Merry fucking Christmas… well, I think we still got a few hours before the clock tolls.”

You let your head loll. He’s so annoying. Maybe it’s just the situation or that he’s obviously a very bad person, but he irks you so much. Years of working with the general public and you don’t think you’ve ever felt this much detest for one person. Usually you could just shrug it off and go onto the next. Right now, you’re quite literally trapped.

The van follows what feels to be a curving road, bumpy as it jostles you against the rough carpet. Your adrenaline ebbs and flows as your eyes flutter one moment only to flick open wide the next. The tire treads mulch the snow, slowing, and stops again. It’s almost pitch black as the van shuts off.

The man in the back stands, you feel it in how the axle bounces. He comes close, boots edging along your side as you sense him close. The door slides open behind him and lets in the moonlight. He bends and grabs your feet, turning your body and dragging you towards the door.

You kick but can’t free yourself from his grasp. He shoves your legs down harshly and pulls you up by the front of your coat. In a second, he has you slung over his shoulder as he turns to the other man.

“Where is he?” The man holding you asks as you squirm. He has his arm hooked around you as his other hand comes up to pinch you, “pussy cat, you don’t start wagging that ass unless you want me to punish it.”

You still, stunned by the suggestion. He’s so gross. You whimper as his shoulder presses uncomfortably into your stomach.

“He’ll be here soon. We should get her inside.”

“We should throw her in the snow and see how long she lasts,” the man sneers, “she’s not as nice as he said.”

“We can deal with that,” the other assures.

A flashlight clicks on. You can’t see anything past the man’s jacket. You bounce on his shoulder as he carries you across the uneven ground. He trails the second man as you hear several electronic beeps and the whir of gears.

A door opens on cold hinges. You’re taken through a doorway as the night air follows you inside. The flashlight’s glare flicks around, illuminating the edges of your vision but offering little more. You hear a click and an overhead light suddenly casts brightly all around you. Still, you can’t see around the man who has you in his grasp.

“Put her in the room,” the other man orders.

“I got it. Don’t act like you’re the boss.”

“Take your own advice. My fucking house.”

“Yeah, and I got the van. Oh, I also came up with the plan, so I’ll say we’re even.”

“You talk a lot.”

The man holding you scoffs, “rich, coming from you.”

“Just like everything else about me. Go on. We gotta wait for him. Figure this shit out.”

“I got it figured out. Strip her down and show her what’s what.”

“We agreed to wait,” the other man insists.

“Oh, so he’s in charge?”

“No, you know he isn’t. I just think… what he said made sense. Go fucking put her in the room so we can talk real shit. I can’t focus with her ass in my face.”

“Tell me about it,” the man slaps your ass and kneads, “it’s like two inches from my mouth–”

You writhe and let out a hollow whine through your nose. He chuckles and falls into step. You lift your head up stiffly as he passes the other man and you meet his eye. You’re not sure if you know him but your gaze falls to the autumnal hued scarf around his neck. You know that scarf.

It can’t be. First Alan and now this guy. This is a conspiracy. It has to be.

You watch the floor change from slated hardwood to patterned carpet and again to dark teak. Down a hall and into another room. Only the light from outside limns your vision as you’re flung from over the man’s shoulder onto an unseen bed. You gasp at the soft mattress, expecting much worse.

“Pussy cat, you stop your hissing and pissing,” he warns as he backs up to the doorway, the light giving a better look at his features, “I’m gonna get to you. Count on it.”

You groan at how the tap chafes your wrists and the smell of the adhesive below your nose. You blink and focus on the man’s silhouette. You think you know him too but you’re not sure. That tuft of hair on his lip seems familiar. Before you can find the memory, his image is blocked out by the door and you’re plunged into sheer darkness.

This can’t be happening. You can’t be here. You have to get home. Who’s going to feed Ernie?

🎀

Your eyes slowly adjust to the dark but you can’t see much. There is not hint of a window to let in any light or even a slat to leak in under the door. More eerie than the deep blackness is the dearth of sound. You can only hear your own breath and the soft squeaks that slip out at your most fraught.

The walls block out anything beyond. That alone is oppressive. If you weren’t tied up, if you weren’t gagged, could anyone even hear your screams?

You wiggle, roll and writhing across the breadth of the mattress. You reach the edge and rock yourself until you can sit up. You inch over the side of the bed until your feet meet the floor. You lean your weight on them and brace yourself.

You’re already out of breath with the effort. You stand, swaying as you struggle to balance on your bound feet. Your knees buckle as you lean this away and that until you can straighten yourself. You hop forward, once, twice, and again. You turn yourself towards where the door shut.

You stagger as you land a bit too hard and you twist, hitting your shoulder on the wall. You huff and puff as the tap grows slick around your lips, the cloth make you gaggle. You sidle, arm again the wall and the handle hits just above your wrist. The metal leaves a thrumming pang in your flesh.

You pivot and lean your back on the door frame, grasp the handle between your hands, sweaty palms struggling to get a grip. You turn this way and that, each time meeting resistance. You squeeze tight and sake yourself and the handle as a croak escape your nose. You didn’t expect it to open but it’s still a defeat.

You slide down to your ass, bending your knees before you as your hands rest behind you on the floor. You hang your head and measure your breaths. You’re not just scared for you, you think of your poor puppy waiting for you. Of you never going home to Ernie. That sparks the fuse to full panic.

You ball your hands to fist and slide down onto your arm. You wriggle down to your back, lifting your legs to the door, setting your boots on it. You pull back and kick, the bang jarring you. You do it again. Harder. You won’t stop. They can’t just leave you here. They can’t ignore you.

A thump comes from the other side. A warning. You kick back, even louder. No response.

You’re exhausted, but you keep going. You kick until your damp with sweat and your legs ache. You bring your feet down over over and until you can’t any more. Then you lay in the blind silence, a sob trapped behind the gag.

Ernie…

You’re almost delirious. Disbelief, fatigue, adrenaline, you’re not sure which. There’s a beeping and a metallic grind. The door shifts, hitting your bent legs as it tries to open. A grunt comes from the other side as the push until you’re forced a few inches up. A light radiates over your suddenly.

You stare up at the white glass shade on the ceiling. The door shoves you further and further. A figure enters and looks down at you. A heavy sigh that tickles your brain. You know it. You look up at that man, Alan or Anthony, as he shuts the door.

He bends to pick you up. He takes you to the bed and puts you on your side. You let him. You can’t do anything else. He puts his hands on his hips as he looks you over. He sits cautiously on the edge of the bed.

“I’m sorry, honey, I hope they didn’t hurt you,” he caresses your cheek and you wince, “I told them to be nice. Wish I could’ve come with you but… I had to sort some things out.”

You bat your lashes, eyes widening. He cooes as pets your hair. “It’s okay, don’t be scared.”

His fingertips brush along the edge of the tape and he slowly peels it away. You groan as he tugs at the corner of the cloth and frees it from your mouth. You cough, your throat raw and dry.

“I can untie you but you have to promise to be good. You don’t want to hurt yourself, do you?”

You close your eyes and nod. He crumple the tape and you hear him place it down. You suck in a deep lungful of air and let out a scream, “HELP!!!!!!!!”

“Hey,” he hisses and quickly smothers your mouth with his large hand, “honey, don’t do that.” He squeezes until you’re quiet, until your jaw aches, “no one can hear you.” He leans over you as your eyes flick open and meet his, “not even the others. Right outside that door and they can’t hear you.”

You search his face. Stern and somber. He looks honest but you would’ve said the same back at the store when he lied to your face. You nod and go limp. Despite his deceit, you believe that.

He reluctantly drags his hand away, “I want to untie you, okay? I don’t want you to be stuck like this all night but if you’re bad, the others… they won’t let me.”

You don’t say anything. You stare past him, to the crux of wall and ceiling. You don’t care about the others or about this man. You only care about one thing.

“I know you’re confused and probably angry. This isn’t a bad thing, okay? We’re not doing this to hurt you, honey,” he rubs your shoulder, “we want to help you. To give you everything you want. Do you really want to spend Christmas alone?”

You rasp as you breath deeply. You wet the roof of your mouth with your tongue then your lips. You keep your eyes averted as you muster your voice.

“You’re married,” you accuse, "you have a family."

He clicks his tongue, “and? You have no one.”

That stings. A deep cut you feel deep in your gut. Your eyes meet his sharply and you pull your shoulder away from his hand. You push your chin out defiantly as a heat rises behind your eyes. You might be alone but it doesn’t mean you’re unhappy. Still, the way he said it…

“That’s not true, I have someone.”

“Honey, don’t lie. I know you don’t. I know you live on Fort Street in that square yellow building. Apartment 325. Just you. It’s a bachelor at the corner–”

“Stop, stop,” you beg him. “How do you know that?”

“Does it matter how?” He says lowly, “Honey, i’ve been nice, haven’t I? If you’re nice, I’ll stay that way and I’ll make sure the others don’t hurt you.”

You crinkle your nose and give a fearsome snarl you know must look ridiculous. You don’t care about these men or what they want. You don’t even care about yourself.

“I do have someone,” you insist, “Ernie.”

“Ernie?” He echoes.

“My puppy,” you hiss, “and I’m not going to be nice–” You grit the last word through clenched teeth, “unless you take me to him right now.”

“The dog?” He wonders.

“He needs to be fed and walked. I’m his mama and I need to see him,” you demand, your emotion finally bubbling up to the surface, “and until you take me home, I’m gonna… I’m gonna…” You dig your nails into your palms and let out a shrill shriek. The blood curdling type you hear in horror movies.

The man covers his ears and stands. You do it again as you bounce on the bed. You must look crazy but you don’t care. Maybe if you’re crazy enough, they’ll let you go. You suck in a third breath and scream even louder.

He grimace but doesn’t stop you. He backs up and stomps to the door. You keep going until it locks behind him.

They think you’re weak because you’re alone. You’ve worked retail, you can handle a couple of psychos.

390 notes · View notes

ecoamerica · 2 months

Text

youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

16K notes · View notes

merakiui · 1 month

Note

MERA Your brain is magnificent

Just finished reading Angels in Tibet 😵‍💫 its so good and honestly one of my favorite fics of yours! .... Sugar daddy Azul is just so perfect, he would never spend his money on frivolous things. Its all investments and the money he spends on his love is just the way to secure the future he has in mind.

I have to ask how they met! God i need to know what made Azul 's head turn!!!! I need to know what the tweels think, AHHHHH I have so many questions!!!!!!!!!!

(つ≧▽≦)つ omg omg thank you!!!!!! I'm flattered it's good enough to become one of your favorites!! <3 hehe yes!!! Sugar daddy Azul is very smart with his money! Every purchase is intentional, and as you noted it's all an investment in what will be a wonderful future with his beloved. He is spoiling you while also thinking about what lies ahead!!!

As for how they met, I imagine it was on a sugaring site!!! :D Azul's really picky when it comes to these things and I think he'd have high standards for his ideal sugar baby (after all, as much as he wants a genuine connection to break his cycle of loneliness, he doesn't want to get into something that will risk losing money. He looks at it from a business viewpoint, as expected of our intelligent businesstako!). But the two of you match and agree to meet up, and ohhhh you're just the cutest thing! He's captivated with how awkwardly sweet you are. Calling him "sir" and being so polite, nervously fidgeting and saying "thank you" profusely when he covers the lunch bill..... insisting that you can't just let him pay for your portion, too, but he laughs and assures you it's fine. This is nothing (it's really nothing; he has lots of money). And you promise him you'll pay for the next meal! Oh, you're just so endearing!

You probably go on a few more trial dates before the both of you realize it's going to work, and from there you establish necessary rules and boundaries. Azul probably fell for your kindness and authenticity and all of the other charming bits in between. Also,, the sex is good. That's a lovely bonus. Pleasant emotional connections in and out of the bedroom!!!! >w<

And the tweels......... ojiisan eels,,,,,,, ITALIAN OJIISAN EELS!!!!!! I think they still tease Azul. >:D that time he got you a celebratory bouquet of flowers when you scored a job interview and you were so excited....... oh, they clowned on him HARD lol. Poking fun about how he's old-fashioned, about how he's like a schoolboy with his first crush..... and Azul just scoffs and rolls his eyes at them. But then the tweels completely understand why he is the way he is. You're just so adorable. They have a soft spot for you, too! Floyd told you that if anyone gives you any trouble, be it at school or work, you let him know and he'll handle it. You think he's joking, but the twins have lots of connections (some more dangerous than others). ;;;

Omg and maybe Azul takes you on a trip to his hometown (for the sake of the fic's setting we'll pretend it's like our world instead of twst world,,,, so Italy hehe). orz romantic sunset dinners, holding hands as you stroll barefoot by the shore, afternoon picnics, getting drinks in the evening, café dates in the morning......... maybe even visiting his mother's restaurant even though Azul just knows she's going to be all over you and him, asking when the wedding is, treating the both of you to your own private space for dinner, offering a complimentary lover's dessert. And you get to see the normally suave Azul being flustered AAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!

#twisted chit chat #thank you luxe couture for changing my life

71 notes · View notes

youaremyhome · 1 year

Text

Pieces of the Night: Resisting the New Moon

Warnings: Dark!Rafe Cameron x Reader, 18+ NSFW, smut, HEAVY non-con/dub-con, drug use, possessive behavior, blackmail, manipulation, DARK. More to add. Read at your own risk!

Notes: 3.0k words. I just to thank everyone that has been patiently waiting for my updates and i am SO SORRY for how long this took. Bad news: this is pretty plot-heavy so no smut, good news: next chapter is Rafe's POV! so i really hope yall like it so tell me if you do or don't, i just wanna hear from ya'll!! it means so much to read what you guys think as you read and i find it just as entertaining as writing the series lol

Taglist: @belcalis9503 @ACRAZYBIOTCH374 @fangirlwithlou@malfoytargaryen @RAFECAMERONSBADUSSY @takin-care-of-business@watersquirtpewpewboomm @magnificantmermaid @mk15x @abbybarnesstuff @lavenderhue

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! (And I’m sorry if I missed you, I love you)

Coming home should be relaxing.

Instead, a ball of dread sits in your esophagus as you turn the key, inching the door open. Silence greets you, shoulders dropping with the weight rolling down your back. You’re truly alone now, with no greedy hands or nipping teeth to get you.

It was a struggle to leave Rafe’s apartment. A wake-up call of kisses and an encore of his performance in the alley started your morning off, followed by an insufferable breakfast with his roommates, Topper and Kelce. Both boys seemed confused as you sat at the dining table, dressed in Rafe’s t-shirt and boxers as he placed the coffee in front of you. The boyish leers and whistles followed you down the hall when you excused yourself, their eyes pinned to the various bruises scattered on you like exploded stars.

Rafe tried insisting on you skipping class with sweet promises that escalated into whispered threats. Fortunately, you were able to escape. It costed you another pair of underwear.

Dragging yourself to your room, your body and mind argue about who’s more exhausted.

While muscles felt strained and bones felt weak, your mind had no inner voice for once. On autopilot as you change, dumping your things to the ground. A muted consciousness fogs your senses, moving like a sim controlled by a child; clumsy and aimless. Collapsing on the bed is the last thing that happens before the screen turns black.

“Get up!”

Your name is being yelled in layers, crusty eyes peeking open as your friends storm in like an army brigade. Andi squeals and jumps into your bed as their voices overlap.

“How could you keep this from us you bitch?!”

“Everyone’s talking about it –"

“Talking about what?” Your sleepy voice cracks.

“You and Rafe, duh!”

Springing up, an instant flush blisters your face, the girls hitching up an octave as they point it out. Their eyes and questions are like needlepoints poking at your skin.

Rubbing your face with both hands, you press the heels to your eyes. “It just sorta… happened.” Little specks of black and silver sprinkle your vision once you’re done squishing your eyes. There’s no point in lying to them. Well, more than you have to.

Looking between the three of them you ask, “How’d you even know so fast? I left his apartment this morning.”

“Oh, please.” Dan huffs, flicking her wrist. “Those frat boys are worst gossips than us. I heard from Mary, who got a text from Liz whose sleeping with Matt, that Topper told him how you did the walk of shame straight to your class."

Louise strikes out, pulling the neckline of your sweater down, revealing the fresh bruises on your skin. They titter, the girls settling on your bed as you pull your knees up, hugging them tightly to your chest. You tell them what they want to hear.

How Rafe had been persisting you in class while you secretly – hated – loved it, cautious because of his reputation. Leading him to beg for a date and the modified version of the dirty details. As you weave the story, struggling is replaced with play fighting, crying with giggling. The lies stumble through your dry mouth, but they assume it's from your shy demeanor.

“So, do you like… like him?” Louise asks with an impish grin and wonder in her eye. Ever the romantic.

“Personality-wise?” You can’t help the grimace on your face. “He’s alright, I guess.”

Clearly, it isn’t the answer she was hoping for; she shrugs, saying people start dating from being fuck buddies nowadays. Controlling your bodily reaction to your relationship named as that is difficult, a weak nod is all you give.

You can see the excitement they hold for you like little offerings you’re supposed to lap up. In any other case, you would be squealing along with them, maybe even having butterflies in your stomach with fuzzy wings instead of knives.

They probe for more intimate details, something you all do after a new boy. Only this time feels…dirty, that these details should never see the light of day for how dark they are. Further despising Rafe for another thing he has unknowingly ruined: the enjoyment of gossiping with your friends. You’re holding back now and it doesn’t feel right. You should be telling them how you cry at the sight of him, not that you orgasm every time (though that is begrudgingly true, too).

“Just be careful, okay?” Danielle says after the conversation winds down. Reaching over, she lays her hand on yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. It’s a simple caring gesture that has you almost breaking. The touch is innocent and good-natured, something you haven’t felt in weeks.

It reminisces the first time you had told them about Rafe. Danielle always had a better judge of character than you. Repeatedly telling you how there were some people that rather burn than put a fire out. Now, you were encircled in a hellish blue fire that licked at your skin.

You hold eye contact, a wall trembling to fall but you reinforce it with a smile. “Of course.”

Over the course of the next couple weeks, other Greek life people you knew were asking about you and Rafe. You knew the community was big enough to not know everyone, but small enough for word to spread like a slow forest fire, contained in an area before it latches onto a lingering branch, lighting its way through the whole campus.

Questions of if you were dating seemed constant, a hardy no was always the answer. Not understanding the fuss of a random frat boy sleeping with a random college girl. Frustrated with it, you had asked a sorority girl that shared the same class with you and Rafe why it even mattered.

“You’re kidding, right?” You frowned and shook your head. “Everyone knows the rich, crazy VP that loves partying more than girls has never had a girlfriend. Especially one so nice.”

You repeated to her and anyone with ears that you and Rafe were absolutely not dating.

That didn’t stop him from heightening the rumors, walking you to and from classes, a kiss hello and goodbye. Arm stretched behind your chair during lecture, playing with the ends of your hair. Public displays of affection that curdled low in your belly. It only reminded you of the leash he has on you. So taut, that with any wrong move, he’ll turn it into a cage.

Even parties weren’t as fun anymore, Rafe making an appearance more likely than not. Those nights usually ended with you drunk, high, fucked out, or a combination of the three. It didn’t matter if you tried hiding somewhere in the packed houses or fought with him there, it ended with you in his bed.

Today you were especially ticked off.

Hungover and crabby, you’re grumbly and feeling like all over shit. You don’t know why your body hurts more, from your intense hungover or the way Rafe had slammed you down to the bed last night. He was already up when you awoke, only in sweats as he ruffled through his desk drawers. He gave you a distracted morning as you got up and dressed. Though you’ve been appeasing him as of late, you don’t bother with a response.

The sound of sharp inhaling has your eyes rolling to the back of your head in annoyance. After a few moments, you feel his stare as you push your last night's clothes into your bag.

“Wanna bump?” He thumbs his nose, lounging back on the chair. “Make you feel better.”

“Yeah, no thanks.”

The words are clipped and maybe a little sarcastic, focusing on getting everything you need so you can leave. Easily ignoring him as you round the bed to head to the bathroom.

“It’ll get that stick outta your ass you woke up with.” He mutters, but you know you’re meant to hear it.

Mild annoyance flicks into anger. Anger that has you whirling back to him, letting it dominate you like he has done so many times. Arm lashing out, you swipe the rest of the cocaine off the desk. The collected powder floats into a cloud of dust as its disturbed, satisfaction thrumming through you.

“What the fuck?!”

Rafe’s up in a blink of an eye, chair clambering back to the floor. Your delight dries up when livid eyes pierce you, and before you know what you're doing, you're running away.

There’s shouting of your name, bare feet slapping the floor as he gives chase.

The hallway between his door and the entrance narrows before you, distorting into something longer, inescapable. You don’t know where you're going to go with being shoeless and phoneless but you need to get out of here before –

You’re pushed to the side, inches from the front door and your temple bounces off the wall. Hands spin you around, facing Rafe with his eyes wide and skin taunt as he gives you a jagged shake.

“You stupid bitch –"

“Fucking jackass –"

“Hey, woah!”

You both freeze.

As Rafe turns his head to look behind, you cock your head to the side. Topper stands at the small dining table, dimpled chin hanging low and a bowl of cereal sitting in front of him. Bewildered eyes asses the way Rafe is hunching over you, the twisted grip on your upper arms.

“Rafe, man…let her go,” Topper says calmly, one hand lowly reaching out. Something akin to concern filling out his expression.

With a grunt tickling your ear, Rafe releases you, his chest still pressed to yours. He commands under his breath, “go back to the room.”

If it weren’t for the essentials you left, you would’ve disregarded him completely. Glowering, you check shoulders with him as you go, Topper’s worried questions echo down the hall.

Fear, anger, and misplaced embarrassment from the witnessed scuffle rattle up your head down to your chest. The scene plays in your mind’s eye over and over, a loop that changes only in perspective like a movie. One that doesn’t happen to you, only to a girl that’s looking for her lost voice. She had it before.

Only once under the shelter of being in public does relief settle over you like a cool mist. You don’t know what would’ve happened if Topper hadn’t been here.

🌙

“So, what are your plans for spring break?"

“Um, to go home?”

Confused, you tilt your head to stare down at the phone, Lauren combined with numerous heart emojis displayed on the screen. Your laptop is set on your knees as you complete homework while chatting with her. Hair still wet from your shower and Rafe’s texts unanswered. Apologizes filled the text history from him, all left on read which led to missed calls and increasingly agitated texts.

“Uhhh, no.” The crinkle of fabric as Lauren packs for an upcoming trip accompanies her words. “Dad didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“He and mom are gonna go back to that little island we stayed at for Christmas.” Your heart drops, your oblivious sister continues, “…yeah, apparently Dad and that Wade guy hit it off and they’re doing business.”

Your dad’s a commercial architect, designing retail and office spaces across the west coast. He sometimes takes the odd job at the beginning of the new year so your family would be able to enjoy your summer in a new city. It usually took months of permits and construction to fully finish the project, your dad liked to stay with them till the end. You don’t even know what Ward does, just that he must’ve made a good impression, yet you can’t remember because you had a nuisance sitting beside you.

A gnawing pit opens at the bottom of your stomach, feeding on the fear that drips like a broken faucet. If this deal with Ward goes through, you’ll be spending your summer in Kildare, possibly longer with no job lined up for yourself.

A summer of Rafe. A summer of suffering through all the shit he’ll pull. No doubt he’ll be hearing of the news soon, having been privy to the calls with his dad, wanting to be a part of the business.

Before now, you’ve resigned yourself to placating him until May, until graduation and then you’d be across the country, far away, and never looking back. As Lauren’s voice hums in the background, your eyes stare at the keyboard in thought. A hand grazing over the tender spot of the side of your head.

This changes how you’ve been dealing with the situation. Handling Rafe like a spoiled child, giving him limited access to his favorite toy. It was the best strategy you had, believing you had an end date to this mess. However, with summer looming towards you with its long shadows and unrelenting heat, you know you can’t do it any longer. You can’t deal with the constant touching, the faux sweet gestures, and the rough treatment. It makes your head flutter with sickly butterflies just thinking of it, your chest feels light as you breathe in deeper.

You need a new plan, now. One that frees you from the shackles of Rafe Cameron. How you were going to do that…you had no idea. Once he learns of the deal, he won’t let it go. He won’t let his dad say no to it, and won’t let you say no to coming with.

The rest of the phone call is a distant thing, the laptop closed and you don’t even know if you saved your work. Amongst the quiet of the night, you drift into your mind, visualizing an alternate world.

A world where you never saw Rafe on the beach that night, or even went to the Outer Banks at all. How after winter break, you still would’ve had a class together. Still had that fated reunion. With no pogues around to deface him, you might’ve liked the attention from him.

Played it coy, compelling him to make the first move, maybe after lecture one day and walk you home. Having a nice, normal conversation with him. How you would’ve agreed to see him again, to have sex with him again.

This other you gets the Rafe you had first met. A jerk, yes, but one that listened to you, that had self-control. Was soft with you. She gets the normal progression of fuck buddies to a situationship. Because despite all the faults he clearly has, other you would’ve been able to look past them. Giving him leeway with his transgressions, not considering it a big deal since it wasn’t a serious thing anyways.

Other you has weeks and months to see the red flags rising up, one by one. The excessive drinking turns him nasty, the blow that levels him out and becomes emotional. Other you would’ve ignored them, chalked it up to typical college behavior until he eventually hurt you. You’d like to think other you would immediately end it, no matter how much he had manipulated you into liking him.

It's at this point of the dark tale where you know the universe is out to get you, an age-old revenge set upon your very soul. Because if other you tried to end it with him, would he have turned just as vicious as before?

Yes, you think, yes, he would in a heartbeat.

Separate paths: one with a smooth, sandy trail as the other grapples with high seas. These two lives are so separate, so unlike the other but still converging in the end, the same destination. A desisted beach with just a blond boy, ready to meld hands and bodies together. No path to take and no boat to ride on.

Gusts of wind brusquely whip around you like nature herself is propelling you forward, toward him. A warp of stumbling and muted colors as the rough waves crash to the shoreline, deafening and ferocious. The blond stays there, waiting. As if he knows you’ll be coming to him, even though you don’t want to. Like he knows no element will stop this journey of yours deeper into the sand.

You can’t see his face but fright ghosts over you like a disembodied entity. You want to go the other way, back to what was before.

The sand starts to flow, gentler than the water, luring you nearer to him, closer to what you know is bad, bad, bad. You think you scream, or maybe there’s another roaring of the waves as your arm's length away now. Details filling out his face come into a sharp focus, the edges around him blurry as Rafe smiles at you.

He seems unaffected by the storm happening viciously around the two of you. Spontaneously, you’re in his arms and you’ve never felt so small. Resisting only seems like it's the sand moving your bodies to and fro, not the intense effort you give. There are words being eaten around you, Rafe telling you something with that giant grin of his.

What? You mouth, your voice is sucked into the vacuum of noise and boomerangs back at you.

YOU’RE MINE. Rafe shouts with a manic glee like a god’s voice booming down below from the heavens. His laughter pushes the waves closer, sand and sea mixing together.

Terror is all you know, from the beginning of time to the end of your days. Rafe’s hold feels more like tentacles than hands, squeezing and capturing you tight. There’s merely the scream of delight by the ocean and the sob of horror from you.

Just as you’re there, you’re not.

Woken in a slick sweat that coats your hairline to the back of your knees. Your heart sputtering from the nightmare and the harsh yank back into the conscious world. After taking a moment that this is reality, that you’re not being swallowed into the vortex of Rafe; do you relax back into bed. Smothering your face back into the pillow, you whimper with the ruminants of irrational fear. That little nub in your brain is lightened up, alarming you that there is real danger near you.

A danger you have to face head-on.

#pieces of the night #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #smut #dark!rafe cameron #dark fic #tws #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #obx smut

354 notes · View notes

scoobydoodean · 5 months

Note

am I the only one who thinks the very existence of crossroad demons in canon makes it clear that selling your soul for someone else is not even something that's particularly unhinged? they have people out there making demon deals for far less than bringing a family member back from the dead lol it's just that demons are very invested in fucking with the winchesters and poking at dean's perceived neediness and vulnerability and his and sam's codependency. maybe it's just terminal deangirlism but I have never really bought into him being particularly needy or clingy I think he's baseline normal but everyone else acts like he's smothering them

Context

Copying my tags also:

Dean's main way of saving Sam is by sacrificing himself? And I think a lot of that reflects Dean's struggles with depression and suicidal ideation. Sam isn't the only one Dean has been shown to be willing to sacrifice himself for when he was at a low point. He was ready to die for Layla in 1.12 and he was ready to die in 13.05. Both emotional low points where he was struggling with his own sense of worth. 2.22 is a low point Dean has been building to all season. His worsening depression is very clear. 9.01 is simply... severely misinterpreted in terms of Dean's perspective. He risks his life every day. He stood between max and his mom in 1.14 also with a gun pointed at his chest

And yeah people in SPN make demon deals a lot. Sam says he tried to make a demon deal to get Dean back in 4.01, but no demon would deal. He also tried to re-open the Devil's Gate from 2.22 (which would let out hundreds of demons yet again to wreak havoc on the world). John made a demon deal to save Dean's life, and many fans don't even think he cares about Dean. Bobby made one, Bela made one, etc.

I could go through the whole show to prove Dean being a Needy and Clingy and Smothering person simply is not accurate... or, because I'm tired of making up people's arguments for them and proving a negative by going through a whole show is very annoying (and I am technically already doing that very extensively through a series of searchable tags), I could just say fans who think this way are incorrect.

If they don't think they are, they're welcome to give me examples of Dean actually being a uniquely horribly needy and clingy and desperate and demanding person who forces people to stay with him forever and ever because he doesn't care what they want and desperately wants to control their lives. I've certainly seen people try to make the argument before, but without fail each time they point to examples that are 1) not even remotely unique to Dean (and he's usually the weakest example and I can think of multiple for other characters showing behavior that is objectively more extreme) 2) presented in an intentionally misleading or mind-blowingly out of context manner 3) woefully (and often rather deliberately) mischaracterizes Dean's motivations.

Anyway, feel free to stream related tags I track:

#sams motivations

#taurus sam in the flesh

#In which Sam is not a helpless little waif with his hands cast over his eyes being carried along by the tides of the immutable sea

#sam the hunter

#sams moral compass

#projecting displaced aggression and scapegoating in spn

spn revisionisms

#demons lie

#youre such a control freak

#mail

69 notes · View notes

missjomarch · 1 year

Text

The Boys

platonic!umich hockey x reader

words: 3.4k

warnings: descriptive SA, swearing, mentions of alcohol, ‘princess’ as a playful/friendly nickname lol

A/N: PLEASE do not read if the things mentioned in the warnings are triggering for you, this is rather detailed and graphic at points. it’s been a really long time (over 2 years) since I’ve written anything creative so please be kind. This was also heavily influence by @yankstrash fic “I’ve Got You” so please go check it out. Enjoy <3

Probably 18+ bc of the SA aspect, read at your own risk

You were drunk. Past drunk, actually. You’re not exactly sure how it happened, but you do know that one minute you were playing flip cup with Nolan and the next the room was spinning. In your defense it was Saturday night - your favorite night.

Despite your friendship with the hockey boys and your current residence in Michigan, hockey wasn’t your favorite sport. Maybe don’t tell the boys that though. Growing up Southern, you were a die hard football fan. Attending the game every Saturday and the party after was one of your favorite routines. And that’s exactly how you ended up here: giggling on the couch of the sophomore house as sweaty bodies lounged around you.

You had met the boys halfway through your freshman year. After being paired with Ethan for a project in your economics class, he had invited you to go out with them. Somewhere between then and now the occasional darty turned into weeknight sleepovers and attending all their games. You loved your boys, and they loved you. They’d do anything for you, and though you didn’t live there the house was equally as much yours as it was theirs.

You were still giggling on the couch, talking with a girl from your leadership class, when Luca plopped down beside you.

“TILLI!!” you gasped, leaning into him.

“Hey y/n/n.” Luca smiled down at you, putting his arm around you. You lifted your head off his chest to bring your mouth closer to his ear.

“You’re my favorite Fantilli brother, but don’t tell Adam. It’ll hurt his feelings,” you whispered to Luca, or at least you thought you did. The alcohol was definitely affecting your volume awareness. Luca let out a laugh at your compliment, giving your waist a squeeze in acknowledgement.

“Okay,” you sighed, “I’m going to get another drink.” You quickly stood up from the couch, only to quickly be yanked back down by Luca.

“Oh no you don’t princess, you’re cut off.” Luca reprimands. A pout quickly makes its way to your face, fake tears already beginning to pool in your eyes.

“Don’t give me that look. Sober you would never say that I was your favorite Fantilli brother, so you’re caught.” You continued to pout as Luca looked down at you.

“Well you’re not exactly helping your case right now, sir,” you slurred, but Luca just shrugged at your threat. You sat in silence for a few minutes with your head tucked into Luca’s chest as he scrolled on his phone.

“Okay, but Lu I actually do really need to use the bathroom. Can you let me up?” You poked at him. He eyed you for a second, looking for that usual mischievous glint. Coming up short, he released his grip on you. You swayed when you stood, but were quickly stabilized by his hand at your elbow.

“Come on, I’ll walk you to the stairs.” Luca stood with you guiding you to the staircase before you waved him off, insisting you could make it up. The upstairs is usually off limits to party guests, as the boys don’t want people in their rooms. You were an exception, of course.

You made your way into the bathroom, quickly doing your business before turning to look in the mirror. After a quick touch-up and a moment of mid-party dissociation, you were ready to return downstairs. Swinging the door open, you begin to walk down the quiet hallway when you someone grabs your wrist. You turn around, expecting to see one of the hockey boys, but are met with a vaguely familiar brunette.

“There you are. I’ve been trying to track you down all night.” He gives you a wide grin, clearly even more drunk than you. At your hesitation, his smile drops a bit.

“You remember me, don’t you? Nathan. We met at the game last week.” The recognition hits you finally. He had been standing behind you at the football game last Saturday, and had asked for your number. You hadn’t really been interested, but before you could say no Ethan had sent him on his way with a “she’s good bro.”

“Oh yeah! I remember now. Sorry about last weekend, sometimes Ethan can be a bit-“

“Don’t worry about it,” Nathan cut you off, “I’m just glad I found you again.” He stepped closer to you now. Pulling on your wrist slightly so your back was facing the stairs. Your face faltered a bit, unsettled by his closeness.

“Speaking of, where’s your boyfriend tonight pretty girl?” Nathan began to pull on your arms a bit, clearly trying to direct you into the darkness of the hallway. You were used to people referring to Ethan as your boyfriend, as you two spent so much time together. But the tone Nathan used left a sour taste in your mouth. You considered lying about this next part.

“He’s actually not my-“ He cut you off again.

“Even better.” Your blood ran cold as Nathan’s eyes darkened. He began pulling you down the hallway to one of the boys’ bedrooms. You struggled against his hold but the fight was futile. He was a foot taller than you and probably a hundred pounds heavier. You began to panic, frantically looking behind you to catch the eye of someone downstairs.

“Come on baby, don’t act like you don’t want me. I saw the look in your eye last weekend before your little boy toy ruined our fun.” Nathan shoved you through the nearest doorway, which happened to be Ethan’s bedroom.

Tears began to run down your face as Nathan slammed the door shut, locking it behind him. There was no escaping this. His hands were on you in an instant, grabbing at anything he could reach as he shoved his lips against yours. You continued to fight again him, even as he shoved you against the door. Your head made a thud against the wood, the impact not helping your dizziness. You found yourself regretting ever drinking at all, the alcohol in your system only adding to your disorientation.

“Please,” you whispered, a sob making its way into your throat as he moved his lips down your neck.

“What was that? You want more?” Nathan drawled into your ear. You frantically shook your head no, begging him to get off. Your shoves and scratches did nothing to deter him. His hands found their way to your chest, grabbing at your boobs. You heard the fabric rip before you even felt the cool air hit your chest. He had ripped your tank top in half, exposing your chest to him. You thrashed in his hold, desperately trying to cover yourself.

“No no, none of that baby.” Nathan cooed, trying to get his hold back on you. When you finally stopped fighting his hold, he moved back to kiss you. You spat in his face then, your last act of defiance. Nathan’s face screwed up in anger.

“You stupid bitch-“ your cheek was suddenly burning. You barely registered the hand he was lowering as you stood there dumbfounded. He had slapped you - hard. You knew it was going to leave a mark as the tears began to well up in your eyes all over again.

Nathan was still grumbling to himself as he dragged you towards Ethan’s bed. He flung you onto the mattress you had spent so many nights on already. You weren’t sure you’d ever be able to sleep here again. His hands were back on you now, and you began to search the room for anything that could help you. You knew E had an extra stick in here but where was it? Damn it y/n think. It wasn’t anywhere you could visibly see it, but you vaguely remembered him saying something once about it being being under the bed.

Nathan began to pull off of you to strip his clothes. It was now or never. Praying Ethan still had that damn stick under the bed , you quickly rolled on your side. Shoving your hand under the bed, you fumbled around for a half second before finding purchase on something. You retracted, the stick in your hand. Thank God. Nathan was turning back around, and that’s when you swung. It wasn’t a hard hit, but when blade met his nose blood went flying. Ethan cursed, hands flying to his now shattered nose. You threw the stick to the side, bolting up and towards the door before Nathan regained awareness. You felt his hand swipe at you, just narrowly missing your wrist.

Unlocking the door, you escaped into the hallway. You quickly crossed your arms over your bare chest, barely remembering to cover yourself before you sprinted down the stairs. You were a sight to behold: shirt ripped in half, a bruised and tear stained cheek, and wild eyes. You desperately looked around for any of the boys, knowing Nathan would be following behind you at any moment. More tears began to fall as you searched the house, squeezing past the same sweaty bodies you were laughing with earlier. You were rounding the corner to the kitchen when you slammed into something solid. Hands quickly gripping your arms to keep you upright. You looked up to find Mark, looking down at you with a smile that quickly dropped when he met your eyes.

“What happened?” He asked, panic finding its way into his voice. You were in hysterics, terrified of Nathan finding you. You were babbling to Mark, unable to form a coherent sentence.

“Hey, slow down.” He cooed, a hand finding your shoulder. You jumped at his touch, quickly shoving yourself further into him. Mark wrapped his arms around you. If he wasn’t concerned before, he definitely was now. Looking down at you, he finally noticed the state of your shirt. His heart dropped instantly. He pulled you closer to him to hide you as he looked over his shoulder to the group of boys watching you from the other side of the kitchen.

“Hey! Hughesy!” Mark shouted to Luke from where he held you. “Go find Eddy.”

Luke nodded quickly, taking Rutger with him as he left.

“You’re alright, y/n/n,” Mark rubbed your back, “Luke is going to find E, okay?” You couldn’t do more than nod. Knowing that until your best friend arrived, you weren’t leaving Mark’s arms. A few minutes later, you heard Ethan loudly entering the kitchen. Luke, Rutger, and Duker following closely behind.

“What do you mean she’s crying? I just saw…” Ethan’s loud voice trailed off as he saw you in Mark’s hold, your hands covering your ears as the tears continued to fall. “Fuck,” he breathed.

Ethan quickly approached the two of you, his hand coming to rest lightly on the back of your head. You jumped again, opening your eyes to meet his. You left Mark’s arms immediately, only to run straight to Ethan’s.

“Hey princess, what’s going on?” Using the boys’ shared nickname for you, he began to rub up and down your back. Mark gave him a quick run down of how he found you, and pointing out the state of your tank top. Ethan looked down, and immediately saw red. The hand shaped bruise on your cheek and shredded material of your shirt told him everything he needed to know. But he wouldn’t move without your confirmation.

Ethan leaned down further to reach your ear, “I know you’re scared, but I’ve got you y/n/n. I need you to tell me what happened.”

You looked up at him then, seeing the hard set of his clenched jaw as he took in your tear stained cheeks.

“He touched me.” You barely whispered, throat raw from crying. Ethan’s anger only grew as you confirmed his suspicions.

“Who?” He asked.

“The guy from the game last week.”

Ethan remembered. The asshole had threatened him when you left for the bathroom, and Ethan had ran him off. He looked up, searching the room for Nathan’s face. He could still feel you trembling in his arms.

“I hit him,” you managed to make out. Ethan’s head snapped back to you, brows furrowed.

“That’s how I got away,” you mumbled, “he was bleeding.” Ethan’s heart broke at the weakness in your voice. You were never a violent person, and for someone to drive you to that point… Ethan was going to kill him.

Mark and the other boys were on standby, waiting for Ethan’s plan.

“Where was he y/n/n? We’re going to handle this.” Ethan questioned, glancing towards Mark to indicate his next move was to find the little bitch.

“Upstairs.”

Ethan nodded, turning to Mark and instructing him to find the guys who weren’t already in the kitchen. The boys already gathered there had unintentionally formed a circle around you, guarding you from prying eyes. Ethan had them all turn around as he shucked off the sweatshirt he was wearing and slipped it over you to cover your exposed front. You would’ve said thank you, but you didn’t need to.

Mark finally returned with the rest of the guys, and Ethan began forming a course of action. You watched as he assessed the team that had assembled.

“E, please don’t leave.” You begged, your hands balling up the material of his shirt. Your voice becoming unsteady again at the thought of being alone.

“I’m not gonna leave you alone princess, but I’ve gotta go handle this. Can you stay with Luca? Just for a few minutes, I promise.” You looked to your right, where Luca stood waiting with his arms open and a comforting smile gracing his features. You nodded to Ethan, and he released his grip on you as you moved towards the freshman.

Luca quickly wrapped you up in his arms again, giving you a sense of protection. Rutger, Adam, and Duker were going to stay with you while Ethan took Mark, Luke, and Moyle with him to find Nathan. You watched as Ethan whispered something to Adam on his way out of the kitchen.

“We’ve got her man.” Adam nodded to Ethan, confirming that they wouldn’t let you out of their sight. Luca was backed into a corner of the kitchen with you in his arms, the other three boys in front of you blocking you from the rest of the party.

“You want to go somewhere less crowded?” Luca whispered to you. You nodded, not trusting your voice. The boys began to lead you out of the kitchen to the back patio, before sliding the door closed behind you all.

You’re unsure how long you stood outside in Luca’s arms, unsure how long you listened to him make small talk with Adam and Duker. But after a while their soft whispers and the soft thump of Luca’s heartbeat lulled you into a more languid state. Eventually Ethan returned with Mark, but Luke and Moyle no where to be found. You tried to ignore the bruises already gracing Ethan’s knuckles as he ran a hand down your arm. A silent conversation passed between the boys around you, as Ethan pulled you from Luca’s arms.

“Come on, princess. Let’s go get you fixed up, yeah?” You nodded, numbly. The alcohol had long since worn off, and your drunken state was replaced with a lethargic drag. The fact that it was almost 3 in the morning didn’t help.

Ethan practically carried you through the house and towards the stairs. The freshman broke off to begin clearing the remaining party-goers from the living room, and you saw Luke and Moyle re-entering the house as you passed by the front door. Ethan must have had them on escort duty, a nice way of saying they kicked Nathan out on his ass after whatever occurred upstairs. They gave Ethan a tight nod and then followed behind you up the stairs. When you reached the top, Ethan began leading you towards his room. Your eyes widened as you took in the blood stained carpet and the hockey stick lying beside it. Ethan could feel you tense up in his arms as you silently begged him not to take you in there. Feeling you turn towards him in his arms, he looked down at you and placed a hand on your non-bruised cheek.

“It’s okay, we don’t have to go in there,” Ethan assured. He had been beyond pissed when he followed the blood trail into his room. Not because it would stain the carpet, but because it filled him with impossible guilt. Though he knew it wasn’t his fault, the fact that he wasn’t able to protect you in his own home, his own room. It filled him with rage.

“She can sleep in my room tonight, I don’t mind to take the couch.” Mark offered instead, opening the door and ushering you and Ethan through. Once you were settled on the edge of the bed, Mark turned to leave. He closed the door behind him, letting you know they’d be waiting outside.

Once the door was shut, Ethan turned to you silently. Kneeling down in front of where you sat at the end of the bed, he took your hands in his.

“Look at me princess,” Ethan all but whispered. The emotion of the night finally catching up with him, he feared you might break if he spoke any louder.

You finally lifted your teary eyes to meet his, inhaling sharply at the devastation set in his features. His hand came up to brush strands of hair out of your face. You winced slightly as his hand pasted over the bruise from the blow Nathan had dealt you, and Ethan’s jaw tightened.

“He’ll never even look at you again, I promise. I’ll kill him if he even tries.” Ethan swore, trying to remain gentle despite the anger still coursing through him. Silent tears began streaming down your face for what felt like the millionth time.

“I’m sorry, “ you muttered to him through your tears, hands tightening around his. Ethan’s brows furrowed as you continued.

“I was drunk and maybe he thought-“

“Absolutely not,” Ethan cut you off, “you’re not in the wrong here. He had no right to put his hands on you no matter how drunk you are or the level of interest you expressed. If you looked anything like how I found you downstairs it should’ve been obvious to him that you didn’t want that. He knew what he was doing princess, this isn’t your fault.” You nodded your head, leaning down to wrap your arms around Ethan’s neck. He moved to sit on the bed, allowing you to rest in his lap as you trembled.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” Ethan mumbled into your hair. You shook your head, removing your head from his neck to look at him.

“Not your fault, you didn’t know,” you mumbled, “thank you for protecting me.”

“Always, princess.”

———

That night you slept in Mark’s room with Ethan next to you, drowning in various pieces of clothing the boys lent you for the night. Mark took Ethan’s room instead of the couch, after 20 minutes of you insisting that he was too tall to sleep on the couch.

The next morning, you woke up to the boys (attempting) to make breakfast for you downstairs. As you watched them struggled, Luca texted to let you know he was already out getting a backup breakfast for when they inevitably burned the pancakes. You smiled slightly at your friends thoughtfulness. He returned with your favorite coffee and bagel order from the shop down the street just as the other boys finally gave up on their culinary dreams.

“Hey,” Duker pouted from his place in front of the stove, “I thought you had more faith in us than that.”

You laughed at his feigned hurt, rising from your seat to thank him for his attempt. You ate your bagel as the boys found their own various breakfast replacements, and you all spent the morning laughing in the kitchen over stories. No one brought up the previous night, and you knew no one would make you talk about it if you didn’t want to. But you didn’t fail to notice how Ethan stood a bit closer than normal, and how Mark and Luke were always between you and the door. Eventually you’d tell them about it - probably Ethan first -but not today.

Though you were still a bit paranoid, something you knew wouldn’t go away anytime soon, your heart was full of love for your boys. Knowing the extents to which they’d go to protect you made you love them all the more.

#umich wolverines #umich hockey #ethan edwards #luca fantilli #mark estapa #hockey

284 notes · View notes

slamminslamminmcgill · 4 months

Note

ummm hello idk what to say pls more joel stuff if u wanna. he's so hot thank u

ur getting somno hcs bc that's what i thought of first (and shoutout to this anon who read my mind and showed up while i had this cookin in the drafts)

warning: somnophilia (mostly consensual tho), daddy kink

anatomical terms: pussy, t-dick

joel's morning wood is VICIOUS so the first time you spend the night with him it's poking your leg when you wake up the next morning

he's snoring like a motherfucker still, completely out cold. but his dick throbs in time with his heartbeat and its rly cute 🥺 eepy old man pp (massive fucking meat mallet)

so you just kinda. jerk it to wake him up

“hey.”

he yawns and rubs his eyes, not yet processing that there’s a hand on his dick, “mm…?”

you run your fingers under the head, “you gonna eat that, or…?”

joel’s not expecting such a goofy line that early in the morning. he snorts himself awake and laughs so hard he chokes on his own spit. then abt 20 seconds later you’re spitting on and choking yourself with his cock

i think he’s very much into someone doing it on him. for one thing it means he got a good nights sleep. also he likes the risk factor of it if that makes sense?? like having a person he trusts enough to be like “i won’t be able to stop you so you can do whatever the hell you want to me.” within our previously agreed upon limits blahblahblahblah

on nights he wants to try it he’ll take like 2 oxies and wash them down with shots of hard liquor so he knocks out. (you gotta make sure he’s hard before he starts drinking tho i bet he gets whiskey dick BAD lol. but just touch his prostate a little and it’ll spring right back up mwah)

at most he’ll stir but he won’t wake up no matter what you do to him. even if you ride him. and if you do he’s fucking adorable bc in his sleep he’s not self conscious about the noises he makes. you get to hear him whimper as you bounce on his cock

eventually you get curious enough to switch places and you’re the one asleep.

he likes groping you 🥺 how soft and squishy you are in his hands and how you instinctively nuzzle into his touch. you toss and turn and whine when he fingers you or rubs your t-dick

lots of whispered praise: “that’s it, baby boy”, “shh, daddy’s got you”, “it’s okay, baby”, “such a good boy for daddy”, “i know, i know, baby. you can take it.”

sooner or later he’s on top of you, thrusting himself inside you. slow and gentle so as not to wake you, but deep. deep enough that you wake up anyway.

“nnn… j-joel?”

“shh, go back to sleep, baby. it’s okay.” he leans down and gives you a wet, open-mouth kiss. you swear you can taste your own pussy juice on his lips but you don’t remember him eating you out. “daddy’s right here. you can go back to sleep, it’s okay. shh, shh, sleep, baby… go back to sleep, baby, goodnight…”

the rhythmic pulse of his hips and his rich soothing voice eventually lull you back to sleep. and the next morning you wake up in his arms with his cum leaking out of you 🖤 and the cycle begins again LMAO

#anon #ask #somno tw #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller headcanon #joel miller imagine #tlou #tlou x reader #tlou smut #the last of us #the last of us x reader #the last of us smut

38 notes · View notes

wreckedandpolemic · 10 months

Note

heyyyy what about 79, 124, 130 and 133 👀👀

behave - george daniel

(mdni) this is fucking vile hkdjfslh read at your own risk

warnings: 18+, dom/sub, bratting, rough, unprotected sex, degradation, spanking, edging, use of 'sir' once or twice lol

George is furious when he catches up to you, cold rage glimmering in his eyes. You smile mischievously up at him, then turn to trail a finger down the chest of the stranger across from you. His name’s Michael, or Mark, or Mitch, something to that effect — you don’t care, really. He’s just a pawn, a toy you’re using to act out for George’s attention.

“You ready to go, baby?” George asks. It’s phrased as a question, but the hardness of his tone tells you it’s not.

You don’t care, though; you’re goading him, pushing him to breaking point, begging for him to snap, to let that dark side take over, to claim you, to ruin you. “Nope.” You pop the ‘p’ obnoxiously. “My friend here was just about to get me another drink, right?”

MichaelMarkMitch shifts uncomfortably under George’s hard, unflinching stare. “Look, man.” He holds his hands up placatingly, and you watch George grit his teeth against his grating American accent — another reason you settled on him, perfectly poised just to irritate the fuck out of your boyfriend. “I’m not… I’m not trying to steal anyone else’s girl here. She didn’t tell me she had a fucking boyfriend. ‘S not my fault your bitch wants me,” he adds, smug, puffing his chest out obnoxiously.

George glares hard at MarkMichaelMitch, clenching his jaw. You can practically see a vein jump in his forehead as his fury only grows. “Mate. She doesn’t give a fuck about you. Do one before I knock you out,” he growls, seizing your arm in a punishing grip. MitchMarkMichael scrambles out of his seat and flees to the bar. Smart. “You,” George hisses low in your ear, delicious darkness in his tone sending a thrill skittering up your spine, “Are being a fucking brat, and we’re leaving.”

A faux-innocent expression springs to your face and you pout. “But I’m having such a nice time…” You turn to face him, placing both your hands on his chest and shoving gently. He holds firm, obviously; you’re only trying to rile him up.

He tips his head back in frustration, blood visibly boiling. “Can you behave, for once in your life?” he snaps, tone frothing with anger.

You poke your tongue out childishly. “Never.”

George seethes at you, grabbing you by the waist and marching you towards the door. You’re powerless to resist, thighs clenching in deadly anticipation. He shoves you out of the door with a stinging slap to your ass, bundling you into a waiting taxi. A hand stays controlling on your thigh the whole ride as George stares ahead, stony-faced. You slide a hand between his legs, palming his hardness with a grin, your best demure eyes waiting for him when he inevitably turns — he’s weak for you, really. But he doesn’t even fucking look at you, gripping your wrist with his free hand and returning it to your lap, something authoritative in his movements warning you not to try it again.

After what feels like hours of agonising waiting, the taxi pulls up outside your place. George pays the fare with a cursory nod to the driver and you get out, the cool night air kissing your exposed skin. You hang off his arm, pulling teasing faces, pressing kisses against his cool skin, trying everything to get him to crack a smile.

He doesn’t budge. Fuck. You’re really in for it.

George marches you inside, his silence disconcerting. He drags you into the bedroom, jaw still clenched tight. “Strip,” he orders, the first words he’s spoken since the bar, and you grin. You’re getting punished anyway; might as well do everything you can to deserve it. Dropping onto the bed, you kick off your shoes and smile blithely at him. He surges forward to grip your jaw punishingly. “You don’t strip for me, you don’t get fucked,” he murmurs lovingly against your lips. “I think that’s more than fair after the way you’ve behaved,” he adds, stepping back without kissing you, your lips cold and waiting.

“Yes, sir,” you breathe, thrill and arousal coiling in your gut as your hands fly to your shirt, tossing it away carelessly. Standing, you wriggle out of your jeans, revelling in his heated, dark gaze on your bare skin.

“So you can be good,” George says, nodding appreciatively. Crossing the room, he kisses you, cupping your jaw and sweeping his tongue into your mouth, taking you over. You feel yourself bending to his will, his skilled hands moulding you into something good and pliant.

Breaking the kiss, you shake your head to clear it, smiling wickedly. “I can,” you shrug. “But it’s so much more fun not to be.”

“Get on the bed,” George orders, striding towards you. He shoves you down when you don’t move and your stomach swoops as you thud against the mattress. His skin is hot where he touches you, you’re certain his handprint is seared into your skin, a beautiful brand that’s proof he owns you.

“Turn around. Face down, ass up. You need punishing, love.” You swallow thickly, arousal and nerves boiling in your blood, and turn over, kneeling on the bed with your face pressed into the pillow. “Fuck, you’re so wet. Such a slut,” he murmurs disapprovingly, resting a gentle hand on the curve of your ass, the last gentle hand you’ll feel for a while, you think. “You ready?” You nod desperately against the sheets. “Words, baby,” he adds, clicking his tongue.

“Yes, sir, God, yes! ‘M a slut, ‘m your slut, please!” You squirm against the mattress, heartbeat throbbing in your cunt. You can’t fucking stand the waiting, and he knows it, his stillness a stark contrast to the way you tremble and writhe.

George’s silence is oppressive and torturous, thick in your lungs as you struggle for breath. After a few more agonising seconds, his hand comes down hard against your ass. You cry out, pain radiating from your ass and spreading deliciously through your cunt. “Love that, don’t you? My dirty girl,” he murmurs, the grin in his voice so evident that you can see it swimming in your mind. Another slap and tears are pooling in your eyes, your cunt dripping wet and aching with need. Two more quick strikes have you drooling into the pillow, limbs already weak, ass stinging red. “That enough? You gonna be good for me, now?” George asks, running a soothing hand over your flushed skin, the gentleness a stark contrast that has you on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Mhmm,” you moan, brain melted and leaking from your ears, feeling loose on your bones and close to the edge already. The sound of his clothes falling to the floor sends excitement fluttering through you, his hands clutching possessively at your waist.

George bends low to kiss the sore flesh of your ass, comforting warmth spreading from where his lips touch your skin. “Spread your legs for me,” he orders, voice still commanding in that deliciously cruel way. In what feels like a Herculean effort, you obey, widening the gap between your legs, your cunt spreading open for him. A sharp slap to your inner thigh makes you scream, livewire nerves racing into overdrive at the unexpected pain. “Spread them wider. You want to act like a slut, you’ll get fucked like one.”

He physically pulls your thighs apart, trailing two fingers through your soaked, messy cunt, the slight pressure over your clit jolting through you, sparks bursting behind your eyes. “Fuck, stop teasing, please,” you whimper, tears spilling from your eyes.

Laughing cruelly, George wipes his wet fingers on the sheets. “Stop teasing?” he repeats incredulously. “After the shit you pulled earlier? You’ll be lucky if I let you come at all,” he warns, lining up his cock and filling you in one, fluid motion.

The pressure between your legs spikes intensely and you moan, your body a vessel of molten pleasure. George sets a brutal pace, fucking you into the mattress, body shaking with the effort of holding yourself up. One of his thumbs rubs delicious circles into your clit, dragging you higher and higher as his hips snap against yours. “Oh, fuck,” you whimper, clawing at the sheets. “Fuck, George, I’m gonna–” He stops, stilling inside you and pulling his hand away from your clit, your orgasm ruined.

Your body screams in protest, rocking your hips back against him desperately, clenching around George’s cock in an effort to coax him back into moving. The crest of pleasure subsides, slipping through your fingers, foregone ecstasy sinking like a stone in your belly. George starts to move again, stoking those embers until an inferno blazes under your skin and you roll against him, matching the pace of his thrusts so he strikes that perfect spot inside of you every time.

Slick, obscene sounds of skin meeting fill the room, mingling with your pants and moans, spit and tears sliding down your face. George fucks you impossibly harder, using you for his own pleasure, pace turning erratic as he gets closer. He groans, coming, pulsing inside you.

You whimper as he pulls out of you, his cum leaking out of you. Strength gone from your limbs, you collapse on the mattress, boneless. He keeps circling your clit, euphoria rushing through your blood, you’re almost there again, then… Nothing. He steps completely away from you, footsteps receding into the bathroom. The tap runs, the trickling sound torturous as you lay helplessly waiting for him. You don’t move, don’t dare touch yourself, just laying still and trying to gather your wild heartbeat back under control. “Oh, baby,” George murmurs as he reappears, watching you cry and drool into the pillows.

“Please touch me,” you whine, voice thick with watery need. He takes you by the waist, rolling you onto your back and you look up at him with fluttering eyelids. You’re wrecked, desperate, absolutely consumed by him as he works his fingers over your sensitive clit. It hurts so beautifully, pain sparking between your legs and twisting into bliss as it climbs up your spine.

“Can you be good from now on?” You nod wildly, brain wrapped around him as your cunt throbs.

“Yes! Please, George, fuck, I wanna come so bad, please!” you beg, whines and incoherent pleas tumbling from your tearstained face.

“Then come for me,” he whispers, low in your ear, the words finally tipping you over the edge, full-body shakes overtaking you as you scream out for him. Nothing feels real, your body floating inches above the bed, sweet, glorious bliss rolling over you in waves, wiping you clean.

You come back to Earth with a grin, pulling George in for a long, languid kiss. He smiles down at you, gaze raking over your ruined appearance. “You feeling okay?” he asks, all traces of that cruel dominance vanished and replaced with warm concern. You nod, words dying in your scratchy throat. “Gonna be alright if I get you a glass of water, something to clean you up?” he adds, hands hovering over your body as if you might shatter under his touch.

“I’m okay, darling,” you promise, a satisfied smile stretching across your lips as your eyes flutter shut, resting your body while you watch him slip out of the room. You wait for that familiar dread that always succeeds nights like this, but it doesn’t come. You know he’ll be back to take care of you — he always is.

#george daniel x reader #george daniel #george daniel smut #george daniel imagine #the 1975 #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 smut #smut #writing #requests #request #smut prompt fills #think Maybe i need some holy water #posting this at 4:30 pm before i go to work FUCKJDKJS

69 notes · View notes

ctheathy · 3 months

Text

Yandere Eepop the Performer NSFW Headcanons

Eepop x Reader

Yandere+NSFW Headcanons

Short Concept

Author's note: I personally interpret Eepop as a male. But I am always willing to write for those who'd see her as a girl instead ;)) Just don't forget to mention which gender you'd think is more fitting if you wanna request for Eepop <3

Eepop/Reader [Romantic Tendencies]

[Gender-neutral Darling|Female Darling|Male Darling]

Potential ⚠️TWs⚠️ :

Both reader+character are of legal age or aged-up for obvious reasons in this post!

These are smut headcanons, read at own risk. dom!Reader+sub!Eepop • You're basically gonna step on him LOL • Masochism on top of some more masochism • Obsession • Another sadism streak Reader • Poor mental state • Punishment • Harassment • Sexual fantasies • Dirty talk • Onomadek's abuse mentioned • Degradation • Climax mentioned •

I believe it's quite easy to say that Eepop is a rather submissive and meek person to be around. Even as a yandere with his nasty mentality, he would still be obedient to what you tell him ... probably even more so. Cause unlike usually being fearful of being hurt, in this state Eepop relishes in his pain. Years upon years of Onomadek's physical abuse, torturous abilities on the mental state and hostile behaviour having affected Eepop greatly in the head. You could literally make him bow down with the snap of a finger and that's not even all of it. You could walk all over him and he would absolutely love being under your heel. You could treat him like a personal footstool and he would still ask for more. You'd definitely have Eepop as a masochist because he’ll be craving the idea of being physically dominated and hurt. If you were to step on a tiny insect next to him, it wouldn't take long for his body to react. Getting so shaky and aroused that he’d be seconds away from begging you to step on him too.

Oh, when this man proposes the idea, you should absolutely take your chance and do it too. I suggest you try remaining partly gentle about it though, as we're not necessarily here to cause any physical harm. But as long as you keep a high posture, basically threatening him with the sharp heel of your footgear, he’d be completely at your mercy in that situation. He would try to resist himself for a bit, try to ignore how turned on he is by you, try to ignore how much he wants you to continue. But eventually his breath would start becoming erratic, eyes half lid as he whimpers out your name while squirming.

But as soon as you brought the heels out he would probably be trembling all over, trying to plead with you to be gentler with him and not get his hopes up and then crush them. Like you would just constantly be walking around him, keeping him on edge by coming dangerously close to stepping on him but never actually doing it. And the sharp tip wouldn't even dig into him, but instead pinched in between his thighs as it's pressing his crotch. Which is treatment Eepop would go absolutely wild over. A person that can dominate him in every aspect but in such an oddly gentle way? A person that squeezes his crotch but doesn’t dig their heel into his flesh? Eepop's mind would be utterly filled with the most erotic and sweet thoughts about you. And the fact that you couldn't even bother to look at him would make it even worse. You would have the capability to absolutely stomp down on him, but you may also actively just choose not to.

There would definitely be better options instead, like teasingly dragging your footwear across his face, tracing his jawline before sliding them down his body. Squeezing his rump as you apply the pressure to his hips, looking down at him with such an unimpressed gaze. Dragging your foot down his side like it’s nothing, your heel poking his skin like pins in a balloon. You’d be able to hear a high-pitched yelp every time you moved it along his skin, his tail flinching and becoming stiff as it happens. And he would likely just freeze in place, not knowing what to do or knowing whether he could move or not, trying to act like it didn't sting a little bit.

I honestly cannot even imagine you putting your heel against his throat or near it and NOT having him be completely terrified and start frantically pleading with you like you hold his life in your hands. He would definitely be in shambles after a session like that, with the worst part being that he embarrassingly craves more of it. He would be pouring with desire, he would want nothing more than to please you. He would probably have to be force-fed water or he would dehydrate from how much he would be salivating. You would be able to do whatever you wanted with him like this and he would be a complete mess.

You should have absolutely zero shame with this boy. You could toy with his feelings and fantasies like a master, being the reason why his mind starts to fall apart like a house of cards. Holding even less respect for him if he were to fall onto his knees and moan for you to take advantage of his mind and body, at the verge of completely begging for you to do what you want with him and use him as a puppet. And I wouldn't even be surprised if you pushed him that far that he ends up releasing before the ordeal is even done, the white strings that squirt out of his body now ruining your footgear ...which would likely, understandably make you scoff in disgust. Your flirting turning more passive aggressive.

“You would've preferred to empty your load inside of me instead, didn't you..~?”

“You'd much rather prefer your meat to be buried deep within me and your sticky semen being shot and squirt into me like you were trying to overload me with your mark, wouldn't you?”

“I'm betting you would want to fill me up with your seed. ...Gross.”

A moment where you'd really just be playing along and feeding into those fantasies. Where in return his junk would keep twitching in excitement by just hearing it. Any sense of sanity draining from his face the longer you keep it up, as his tail begins to sway excitedly at this treatment. I can absolutely imagine his body having a similar reaction too, like his hips twitch up involuntarily, his breath shivers and quivers every time you even say something. His whole body spasming every now and again when you do this and you laugh and mock him for it. You'd be able to get him all kinds of riled up in the most suggestive ways possible. Just the mere thought of him hearing the things that you'd say to him and his body is just absolutely tingling with raw excitement and arousal.

Where in response you could be behaving so bipolar that you'd go from treating him like an angel and telling him “good boy” to looking down at his whimpering puppy-like face and calling him a filthy dog. But it's getting to a point where you're not even wrong for doing that, he is the filthiest boy of them all. He's so out of control that he deserves to be put down and punished. And this is when he'll start getting into the dirty names. I could easily imagine Eepop's body being sent into a state of pure primal hunger. You're playing with his fantasies and desires, teasing him with those sweet words and making his mouth water for more. I’d bet that at some point he’d be trying to keep his mouth closed to prevent any saliva from dribbling out and down his chin, but his breathing would become more and more shallow as you continued to tease him.

His poor, poor eyes would roll back so much that he would be able to see the inside of his skull. It would be so much for him to handle that he would immediately become completely overwhelmed, turning into this twitching, drooling mess of a boy that's desperate for you to keep giving anything to him. It would be the biggest test to his willpower ever and he wouldn’t survive it. He would simply give in and beg the entire time.

Where he'd honestly just have a whole mental breakdown at that point. He’d fall to his knees and plead with you with tears in his eyes. Eepop would be at a low point like he’s never been in his entire life, he would be the most submissive and pathetic person in existence and he would absolutely want you to have so much power over him. He’d be nothing but “give me more of yourself, I want you to own me. I want you to make me yours. please... please…” and doing anything in order to get it. He’s so weak and susceptible and you'd know exactly what you're doing to him. All your little comments and questions of degradation, the way you hold and present yourself, your voice, your body, your lips...

EVERYTHING is a form of control for him.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

32 notes · View notes

itzsana-kiddingmenow · 6 months

Text

Alien: Part 3

𝒍𝒆𝒆: Alien!Felix

𝒍𝒆𝒓: Alien!Minho, Jisung

𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘶𝘱 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘦𝘢 𝘪 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨! 💗🧋

⚠️ I choose to keep some element of surprise to the story, so read at your own risk! THERE ARE SOME MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE!!! ⚠️

a lil short compared to the others lol i don’t think lixie can handle much.

𝕥𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥: @someone-who-loves-kpop-saranghae @dandyboyseungmo @leeknowstan33 @v--143 @wereallgonnadieonedaybutnottoday @inkytornpages

Then you heard glass break downstairs.

You immediately jolted, thinking nothing of it. Your brain was definitely playing tricks on you.

Until you heard footsteps.

You sprung into action, scribbling at Minho’s neck to shift him into his kitten form before shoving him into the pocket of your coat.

You woke up Chan and Jisung, and hid them both in your closet, terrified for their safety.

You decided to head down. Giving Minho to Chan, and telling them to keep quiet, you grabbed your trusty baseball bat, and descended into the darkness of your apartment.

You walked slowly down the steps, trying not to make a noise, wincing every time the stairs creaked.

When you heard a footstep behind you, you blindly swung your bat around.

Your bat was caught and thrown out of the way, and a hand slammed over your mouth.

You started struggling and thrashing as much as possible, trying to make it harder for the perpetrator(s) to cart you off.

You jammed your elbow backwards, determined to hurt whoever had broken into your apartment.

The person released you, and you immediately twisted around just to be met with a pair of antennas.

Oh.

Jisung rushed down to see the commotion, and you held him back protectively.

Chris tilted his head. “Chan! Stay back.” You tell him.

“Felix?” Chan grasped at the boy’s arm. ‘Felix’ groaned in pain, pressing against his chest where you had elbowed him.

“That…was a nice hit.” Felix gasped as he recovered from the impact.

“Thanks.” You frowned.

“FELIX!” Jisung shouted, running over and latching onto the boy, who grunted.

“Hi Hannie!” Felix exclaimed, hugging the quokka back with equal intensity.

“This is our…friend.” Minho gave you a sweet smile, and you could tell your face was beaming.

“Jisung, a human…” Felix pointed weakly at you, clearly scared. His antennas were trembling.

You immediately reached out to pet one, and Felix kinda relaxed into your touch, but he still looked worried.

“We can trust this one, don’t worry.” Chan explained.

“Okay! I trust them now. What’s ur favorite kind of brownie? And do you stan TWICE?” Felix asked, spitting out questions a mile a minute.

“Uh-I like fudge, and yes, i do stan them?” You stuttered through your sentence, startled.

“You are now one of my best friends.” Felix declared, giving you a big hug.

“Oh, ok! What’s your power?” You ask.

“Oh, i’m a day younger than Jisung, I don’t have one yet.” Felix admitted, giggling when you stared in surprise.

“Can we tickle him now?” Jisung whispered in your ear.

“Do you even know if he’s ticklish?” You whisper back.

“We’re only ticklish on this planet. I’ve never been this sensitive back on WASP-104b.”(search it up 😉) He responds.

“That’s the name of your planet?!” You whisper-yelled to him.

“Ugh, we’re working on it! Aliens are very busy, you know?!” Jisung rolled his eyes sassily.

“Whatever. You’re only ticklish here?! That’s so sad!” You whispered in his ear.

“What are you two talking about?” Chan asked, crossing his arms.

“Nothing.” You both respond in unison.

“Mhm.” Chan was not convinced.

Whatever. Let’s just say Jisung decided to find out whether his sunshine twin was ticklish or not, by poking a singular finger into his armpit from behind.

Felix immediately jerked with a giggle and pried his friend’s hand out of his underarm, face turning red in embarrassment.

“Aweee! You’re ticklish! Yes!” Hannie cheered, sending more random pokes at Felix’s body and pinning him to the floor.

“What does thahat mean?!” Felix shrieked with laughter as Jisung dug his fingers roughly into the boy’s waist.

“WHAHAHAT’S GOIHOHOING OHOHOHON!” Felix screeched when Minho grinned and grabbed at his thighs, leaving him kicking and thrashing as he tried to overtake the feelings.

When Minho’s fingers found his sole, Felix flopped around in ticklish agony, cackling his head off and his antennas were flinging around.

“NOHOHOHO! AHAHAHAHA WHAT!” Felix was incredibly confused as to the source of his boisterous laughter.

“We’re tickling you! It’s super cute, isn’t it?” Jisung teased innocently, still digging into the lee’s highly sensitive ribs.

“AHAHAHAHA!” Felix giggled and squealed through his laughter, he clearly couldn’t handle much, and you pulled Jisung off before the two managed to kill the boy.

As per the drill, you rubbed at their antennas, got to know Felix, and falling asleep together.

You just hoped that that happiness would last.

word count: 732

i hope you all enjoyed! pls check my intro before interacting! love yaa 💗💖

-sana

the end is super rushed, i know…i’ll tie things up next time i promise 🙏

#kpop tickle #midzywannabeitzy #stray kids #skz tickle #skz

31 notes · View notes

harryspet · 2 years

Text

raised by wolves | b.barnes & y.belova

[Warnings] dark!alpha!bucky x reader, grey!yelena x reader, bucky x reader x yelena, bucky barnes x yelena belova, werewolf au, a/b/o dynamics, beta!reader, wilson!reader, stalking, forced mating/marking, noncon/dubcon, raunchy threesome ahead, polyamory, oral sex (female recieving), dominant/submissive, unprotected sex, hints at breeding, forced orgasms, kidnapping (pretty much), bucky is a dumb alpha, yelena is a good teacher

A/N: My inspiration for this is basically seeking sister wife meets GoT dany/drogo lol

In which Bucky and Yelena find the mate of their dreams.

word count: 8k

taglist: @cherienymphe @marvelmaree @onsunnyside @autumnroses-blog @isysen @inlovewithhisblueeyes @reveise @speechlessxx @lesbians4levinson2021 @darksideofthecocoamoon @darkndirtyndangerous @mayasreadingnook @yelenabelovadeservesbetter @queenoftheworldisdead @khaleesiaura @ tastycakee @honeydulcewrites @thecutestlittlebunbunfairy

(!!no one on my taglist interacts anymore so i’m adding some people who have recently interacted with my stories, let me know if you’d like to be removed!!)

“Sam, you really didn’t have to do this.”

You had rolled your eyes so hard when you saw him pull into the dirt road you called your driveway. He lugged brown paper bags full of groceries into your home despite the fact that you had already budgeted and created a list for what you were going to get on your next trip. Your vegetable plants were already sprouting and that was going to save you even more money.

“Your idea of a full and satisfying meal is totally different from mine. Mama always made us three meals a day, and snacks, to keep us healthy, and your little vegetable diet is not going to keep you strong.”

“So you think I’m getting weaker?” You followed your older brother into your own kitchen and he began to pile all of the food into your mostly empty cabinets. Your kitchen was built into a small, half square shape with old oak cabinets and an even older, green refrigerator, “Sam, I will continue to run circles around you until we’re old and decrepit.”

“Hey, I’ll admit you’ve beaten me a few times but you ain't never ran circles around me. Besides that, I know for a fact you couldn’t beat me right now. When is the last time you’ve even shifted? How much do you even exercise when you’re spending all your time reading, going to work, and playing in your little garden?”

Your lips parted in shock, “I shift every week … at least! And I do exercise! I’ve got miles and miles of forest surrounding me, plenty of room to exercise and you know what’s even better about that? I don’t have to wake up to your yapping and I don’t have to fall asleep anywhere near your smelly butt.”

Sam simply smiled and you realized he was getting a kick out of riling you up. You and Sam were always close and it was dumb of you to assume that the he’d be able to give you more space even after moving so far away. He’d traveled five hours just to come and see you.

“And your sparring skills? You don’t have anyone to practice with.”

“Sam, I’m fine,” His face fell a little and you wondered where his usual light-hearted spirit had gone, “You came up here for a different reason, right?”

He went quiet, piling frozen meat into your small freezer, “Sam?” You pried again, approaching him with your arms crossed, “What’s up?”

“Bucky escaped. When he got caught by those hunters, we thought they would kill him. Turns out, they’ve just been poking and prodding at him for years.”

“He . . .” The news jarred you and suddenly Sam’s visit made even more sense, “But he doesn’t have a pack.”

“You think Bucky Barnes needs a pack to be strong,” It was sarcastic and you knew Sam was only being blunt because he was serious. And probably scared too, “And we didn’t get news about his escape until this week. He’s been out for months. Plenty of time to form allegiances.”

“But he doesn’t … he doesn’t know where I-”

“Y/N,” He warned, a hint of his alpha tone threatening to escape his mouth, “Me coming here was a risk, I know that, but you staying is even more of a risk.”

Barnes killed his father for a title that was meant to be honorably passed down to him. When his own mother resisted his rule, he killed her too. He expected everyone to bow down to him but most of his pack sought refuge in places like our pack, The Red Wing Pack.

“And bring chaos back to Red Wing?” You shook your head, “It’s not worth it.”

Sam sighed, and you sensed that he was expecting your answer. He wouldn’t have brought all these groceries if he’d expected you to leave with him.

“He killed every hunter and scientist in the building where they were keeping him. I got word from the Sokovian pack after they cleaned everything up, burned the whole place down. He’s bloodthirsty, little sister. He’s going to want land, he’s going to want power, and he’s going to want mates. Dad had no idea what Bucky would turn out to be when he promised you to him. He also didn’t know you’d present as a Beta.”

Everything about the pack system was archaic. That was the whole reason why you moved far away from your entire family. Bucky Barnes’s father saved your own father’s life years before you were even born. He saved your entire pack and he promised his first born daughter to the first born son of his new ally. The union would create one of the strongest pack allyships on the continent.

“And no one would ever concede their power to him, let alone marry him!”

“Alpha Romanov has allied with him, she helped him kill Alpha Barton.”

You froze, “Clint is dead? That doesn’t make any sense. Why would Natasha have him killed?”

“She believes in Bucky. That he’s going to come out on top during all of this. That outweighed her loyalty. That’s why you’re just my first stop on my road trip. I’m meeting with lots of packs. We’re gonna need a strong force to combat this and we have to be prepared for anything-”

“Including war?”

Sam nodded, “Including war.”

“Sam, you know I don’t want any part of that. It’s enough that Dad basically sold me like his most prized horse. I don’t want or need a pack. I want to be … normal.”

Sam’s face was sullen, “You’ll call me every few days? It’s hard knowing you’re alone out here. And if I don’t hear from you, you know I’ll-”

“Send the whole pack for me? I know,” You sighed. You felt a bit suffocated by the news you’d received. Bucky Barnes was a real reason to panic but you’d already made yourself less of a target and Sam would never reveal where you lived. Besides that, you had no reason to believe that Bucky would come after you. You’d never met him, by the time you were born, he’d already established himself as the troubled son who’d run away from his pack, leading a group of rogues and causing catastrophe in his path. Your Dad passed away when you were still a toddler, and even if he was alive, he’d never allow Bucky near you, “Thank you for the groceries, Sam.”

Sam clapped his hands together, “You’re welcome. I guess that’s my cue to get out of your hair.”

“I’ll call whenever I can.”

Sam pulled you into a hug, leaving a comforting kiss on your forehead.

Three weeks passed and you’d spoken to Sam at least four times. Every conversation was similar with Sam updating you on his progress, how many packs he’d spoken to, and how many agreed to fight against Bucky if the time came. That if was slowly turning to when. With each pack, Sam was also learning more rumors about Bucky. He’d taken Yelena, Alpha Romanov’s sister as a mate, a symbol for his alliance with the Black Widow pack. He’d also gained alliances with at least two smaller packs by challenging the Alphas and winning their packs through killing them.

The conversations were turning more gruesome and you began to call Sam less and less. It wasn’t that you weren’t about your big brother but you knew he could take care of himself. Besides that, the more you think about home, the more you were distracted during your new life. There was a small town twenty minutes from your cottage, there were only about ten shops in the downtown area, and you’d manage to get a job at Wagging Pet Grooming. Your boss noted your incredibly unique energy that seemed to calm down any scared dog.

A blonde woman entered the shop and you greeted her with a smile, expecting a dog to be in tow. You could tell she was shorter from just standing on the other side of the counter from her. She didn’t even have a purse, you noted, her hands in the back pocket of her jeans, “Hi, can I help you with something?”

The fact that you didn’t recognize her as one of the usual customers set off a small alarm in your mind.

“Hi,” There was a layer of sweat on her forehead and she sounded as if she was out of breath, “I’m sorry to bother you. I’m not from around here, I was just stopping in my car for a second, and it totally pooped out. You wouldn’t happen to be able to jump me, would you?”

Her accent alone was a good indication that she wasn’t from here. You rounded the front counter, “Where’s your car?”

“In front of the hardware store across the street,” She pointed out the glass window.

“Uhm, let me close up the store, and I’ll bring my car around front.”

“Oh, thank you so much …” Her eyes met with your nametag, “Kelly, you’re saving my life.”

It was easier and safer for you to have a new name as well as a completely made up background.

You did as you said. Bringing your dinged up jeep to the other side of the street where she was waiting. You had your own jumper cables and learning how to use them was one of the first things you learned when you went out on your own.

You attached the cables the way you remembered, “Okay, I’m gonna turn my car on and then you try to start yours.” Her car was quite nicer than yours, a practically brand new crossover.

It only takes two tries for her car to turn on.

When you moved to detach the cables, she got out the car to hug you, “Oh my god, Kelly, you’re amazing,” It catches you off guard and you mostly go stiff though her hugging abilities are quite impressive, “Sorry, I should buy you lunch. Can I buy you lunch?”

You instantly shook your head, “No but thank you. I packed mine. And uhm, you should get driving anyways. You wanna keep the car running for a while.”

“Oh,” She smiled brightly at you, “Well, I won’t bother you any longer. It was nice to meet you, Kelly. Us single girls have to stick together, right?”

“Right.”

The way she spoke your fake name made your mouth twitch, ruining the facade of the kind look you were giving her. She was beautiful, no doubt, and that made you curious why she was traveling alone. You supposed you could say the same thing about yourself. You said a brief goodbye to her, watching as she pulled away in her car. Her gaze was so intense before that you could almost feel it lingering on you still.

Sam warned you against shifting as well as making sure you were never being followed when returning from work. In this part of the country, the population was so small that there was rarely any news of crimes being committed. The last controversy you heard while in town was about one deer hunter accidentally shooting another. And you didn’t have to worry about deer hunters either. It would be impossible for a human to catch a Beta werewolf, gun or no gun.

You could shift anytime you needed but the full moon was nearing and your wolf was aching to escape. You’d stick close by the perimeter of your property and you’d make your way back as soon as your wolf was satisfied.

You left your work clothes folded by a tree, letting the light of the moon peeking through the trees soak your naked skin for a brief moment. You imagined that if you were a human girl, being naked in the woods at night would be a grave nightmare. For you, this felt like the most normal you could possibly be.

When you were in wolf form, there were no to do lists to go over and little to no worries that ever crossed your mind. You only thought of the stretching of your limbs, the wind through your brown fur, the presence of the moon goddess, and the desire to hunt. Your wolf certainly wouldn’t survive on your usual diet for vegetables and you found yourself more hungry for meat than usual. You traveled farther than usual, using a trail that you’d mentally mapped out yourself.

Hunting was much easier in groups and you knew this. You decided to hunt a much smaller prey, one that didn’t have hooves and antlers that could injure you. You were careful when you spotted a rabbit along the trail. You kept your distance, following it for a long while, until it perked up, realizing that you were there and it was in imminent damage. The rabbit was fast but you were much faster. You pounced on it, immobilizing it with your paws before quickly biting its throat. You bit at it excitedly, starting with the largest internal organs.

Your excitement was short lived, suddenly realizing that you’d just become someone else’s prey. You were distracted long enough for another wolf to enter your vicinity but you wasted no time, deciding to sprint away as fast as you could. By the smell, you could sense lots of wolves, but most importantly, you could sense an Alpha.

You weren’t weak by any means, but you weren’t as strong as you could be. There wasn’t enough time to think about Sam being right but you were sure that thought would come to haunt you later. You couldn’t lead them back to your cottage but you knew you couldn’t out run them forever. You were weak, and wolves could chase their prey for days on end.

Suddenly, your chance to panic and plan was interrupted. Whoever had found you, caught up to you much faster than you could even comprehend. You turned up, trying to trip them up or send them tumbling into the base of the tree. They kept their footing despite your attempt, and just like the rabbit, you were pounced on next.

You rolled together with a mass of muscle and black fur, the only sound in your ears was the Alpha’s deafening growl. Red eyes stared down at you as your body was pinned. You fought back of course, landing some deep bites to his skin, but that only left you open for him to stick his fangs deep into your neck. An Alpha’s bite to the neck served two purposes, to kill or to mate. When the Alpha didn’t immediately rip out your throat, confusion clouded you rather than fear. You were waiting to die and you certainly preferred it to the alternative.

He slowly removed his teeth, leaving you whimpering loud enough to wake the dead. You were a Beta, you deserved the respect of being courted, of your father’s permission being granted, and your own approval being considered.

He’d bit into your scent gland, marking you like you were an Omega. Worse than that. He’d marked you like you were less than Omega.

You didn’t recognize his scent. Only that he smelt similar to those you knew from the Winter Pack. As you put the pieces together, Sam’s voice echoed in your head.

Blood dripped from his mouth as he admired his word, sniffing the wound, before pressing his snout into your forehead. He was taking in your scent which was rapidly changing into one that would match a mated female. Through the corners of your eyes, you saw several wolves were now surrounding the two of you. They’d keep their because of him but you wish greatly someone would drag your body away or at least finish the job.

You couldn’t keep your eyes open for much longer with the pain becoming too much. The last thing you saw was a blonde she-wolf, one with shining blue eyes, and you were lulled to sleep as she licked your wounds.

It all happened to be a nightmare. That’s why you awoke in the lavender sheets and polkadot comforter of your own bed. The sun was peeking through your curtains like they always did and you already had your usual craving of a cup of hot coffee. All was fine, except you realized you could barely move your own face. As you turned your head only a little bit, pain shot through your body.

Tears slipped down your face, from the pain and from the realization that you’d been mated without your consent. You were clothed, at least, plaid pajamas wrapped your legs and you could tell you were wearing a t-shirt with the name of a state college. You reached to touch your neck, feeling the texture of a gauze. It took all your strength to sit yourself up.

You noted the way the other side of your bed looked slept in. You closed your eyes, taking a painful breath as you swung your legs over the side of the bed. In the mirror sitting on top of your dresser, you could see your own reflection. You felt like a bus had hit you, but other than the blood soaked gauze on your shoulder, your face was glowing. Your eyes were brighter, your eyelashes longer, and even your plump lips had more color.

Your phone came to mind. Your instinct was to call him though you didn’t know how’d you be able to face him once he laid eyes on the mark on your neck. You wanted to cry more but you forced yourself to wipe away your tears. He’d invaded your home, violated your body, and you couldn’t let him have one more thing over you.

Mate bonds could only be broken by death. It was him or you. When your bedroom door opened, a shirtless man appeared, his thick muscles on full display. Instead of burning red eyes, you were looking into blue ones. A sharp contrast from yesterday. His hair was long and dark with facial hair peppering his jaw. What you saw yesterday night was a man of nightmares and you almost felt … underwhelmed by the sight of him. The big, bad Alpha was actually handsome.

Go to him. You are his.

As he stepped inside the room, you backed yourself into the corner of the room. You winced at your movements, your hand rising to touch your neck. In his hands was a glass plate and you noticed the mountain of scrambled eggs, sausage links and strips of bacon. He lifted the plate, emphasizing it, as if he was saying it was meant for you.

“Don’t come closer!” You strained to yell, “Don’t.” He took a few steps before kneeling down to place the plate on the ground, sliding it closer to you.

Alpha wants to feed you. Let Alpha take care of you.

When did your wolf become so needy?

The only reaction he displayed was annoyance. There was a standoff of looks between you and you didn’t move any closer to the food like he was expecting. You slid down the wall, pulling your knees to your chest, your hand cradling your wound as it ached. You breathed heavily to keep yourself from crying.

Bucky took a seat in front of your bedroom door. If you jumped out the window, you imagined he’d chase you and there was no way you were getting past him inside. The two of you stared at each other for a solid thirty minutes before Bucky moved. He crawled over to grab the plate from the floor and you were forced to watch as he devoured all of the food.

When he finished, he stood up from his spot and left the room, “Where are you going?” You stood too, speed walking to the door, only to stop at its entrance. You watched from the door frame as he walked into your kitchen and began to scrub the plate.

You walked to your front door which was adjacent to the small living room. Through the screen door you could see your jeep still out front. Your phone was probably still inside. As soon as you opened the door, a hand reached above you to close it. His scent surrounded you, threatening to suffocate you, and deep down you felt an urge to touch his naked chest. You did but only to push him away from you. He stepped back, not because you had any effect on you, but because he seemed to be granting you the space you wanted.

You watched as he reached into his shorts, pulling out your phone and you quickly snatched it from his hands. Has he been through all of your stuff? You stepped away from him, feeling his eyes on your back, as you easily found Sam’s contact number.

“Y/N?”

“Sam, I-I..” You couldn’t stop your voice from choking up, “I’m okay, I’m alive, just a little hurt.”

“What does that mean?” Your older brother rushed out.

“Sam, don’t say anything. He’s listening,” You could feel his heart dropping to his stomach, “Remember what we talked about the last time you were here. You don’t need to send anyone after me and I don’t want you to see me like this, either. You’re prepared for this. You know the smart thing to do.”

“I’ll kill him.”

Sam rushing into battle after you would only get him killed. You hoped he’d eventually calm down and think clearly about this.

“I’m sorry,” You told him solemnly, “I love you. Goodbye.”

When you turned to look at Bucky, his arms were crossed over his chest. Sadness was replaced by pure hatred in your eyes. You didn’t care that he was an Alpha or that he’d staked his claim on you. You could still hurt him.

With all the energy you could muster, you rushed towards him, pelting him with your fists. That same annoyed look crossed his face. He didn’t even bother shielding himself, he took every hit you threw at him, and when he had enough, he yanked you up by your waist. Kicking and screaming, he brought you back to the bedroom. You’re a Beta, you should be able to at least hurt him, but every effort was futile.

Do not hurt Alpha. Alpha will take care of us.

He pinned you on the bed with your hands above your head. He straddled your legs as he carefully removed your bandage. With analytical eyes, he looked over your wound, and he did the last thing you were expecting or ready for, “Wait-”

He licked your wound.

Alpha is healing us.

You expected a sharp stinging but unbelievable pleasure spread through your body. All the pain was fading as you writhed beneath him. He was careful, cleaning you, and fast forwarding the healing process. This is what being mated was supposed to feel like yet you couldn’t accept this. Couldn’t accept him.

Your body betrayed you and just from the touch of his lips against your shoulder, you climaxed hard. You hadn’t known your body could even do that but Bucky didn’t seem to be phased by it as he looked down into your drunken daze.

The pain was gone but that didn’t make you any less frightened. The most dangerous Alpha in the country had you pinned beneath you. And he wasn’t at all finished with you, “Get off!” You begged, feeling as though he was pushing your pride lower and lower.

He moved his legs from around you and before you could try to wiggle away, he was pulling down your bottoms, “No, no, no–” He let your arms go but quickly grabbed ahold of your waist. He flipped your body over, straddling your legs again. He pushed down on your back, pressing your chest and face into the bed as he pressed himself against your ass. You could feel just how ready he was, and as he pushed your panties to the side, he’d be able to tell how much your body was ready.

“Bucky, please!” It was a desperate attempt to use his name. He marked you like you were random trash on the street, why would he care how you felt.

Bucky didn’t waste time teasing you. As soon as his member was free, he was sheathing it deep inside of you. You felt you might melt into your sheets. You were so full of him. He was so much a part of you. Destroying you. He didn’t need to hold you down, only pull your hips back against him, as he did what was natural to him. You gripped the sheets tightly, a gasp forced out your lips with each hard thrust.

The sounds that left his mouth were animalistic as he grinded his hips into you. The deeper he went, the more it hurt in the best way possible. He tortured you when he pulled himself all the way out of you only to push himself back in. You were crying again, this time from all the hormones being released inside you. You found yourself climaxing again causing your body to shake and your hips to spasm against him.

Even after he spilled into you, he groaned and thrust himself inside you a few final times. You felt you collapse if he hadn’t held onto you. He turned you on your side, keeping himself inside of you, as he collapsed behind you.

Bucky had his way with you that exact way four more times that day. It was the same way for the next week. He’d make you food and he’d enter you from behind any chance that he got. You were forced to eat eventually, the constant sex leaving you even weaker than before. You explained to him that you had to go to work or your boss might get suspicious of your absence but he seemed to already know this. How long had he been tailing you and how had you not noticed?

He drove you to work and picked you up right as your shift ended. Your boss asked about the new, mysterious man and she could hardly believe you had any sort of romantic interest. She didn’t seem to care enough to ask you any further questions and you supposed that there wasn’t anything a human could do to help you anyways.

He didn’t leave your side much when you weren’t at work and he still hadn’t spoken a word to you. He took care of you, like your wolf had promised, bathing you and cuddling you into the most peaceful sleeps of your life.

Your wolf was growing comfortable which frightened you close to death.

Sam would come eventually, whenever he formed a big enough army, and what would he think of what you were turning into. You were below an Alpha’s mate. He didn’t even look at you as he rutted into you. He was only satiating his primal desires.

One night after your shift, he didn’t lead you back into the cottage. He urged you to follow him to the tree line and you watched, stumbling back, as he shifted into his wolf form. Human you stared back at the six foot tall werewolf, and his eyes were a normal blue, telling you that he was calm. Your heart raced, your mind bringing you back to the mark on your neck, and he clearly felt your hesitancy.

Shift, you finally heard his voice. The word traveled over your skin and you could feel your wolf pushing to the front of your consciousness. It was a painful process, the snapping of your bones, causing you to cry out as you fell to your knees. Don’t fight it, you heard him again.

Bucky towered over your whimpering figure and he began to press his snout into your neck before licking your face. A sign of affection as well as a sign of dominance. Your wolf was much happier to be with him. She followed him closely as he led her, feeling comfortable enough to even try to play with him. He held his head high, his tail in the air, as you ran around him.

You traveled only a handful of miles before you reached what you knew was a camp. You stuck by Bucky as you passed a few shifted wolves. They bowed their heads as Bucky passed and moved through the camp. Large tents were set up in a circle, the middle of the camp serving as a place for food to be made, an area to socialize, a market, and stations for tools and weapons to be made. Even those in their human forms, bowed to their Alpha as we passed. Before you reached the largest tent at the end of the camp, Bucky shifted back into his human form and you soon heard the first word he’d actually spoken to you. “Shift,” He commanded, and like before, your wolf was forced to cooperate.

Instinctively, your hands moved to cover your chest as you rose from the ground. You looked around, sure you looked like a frightened puppy, as your eyes met with a few members of the pack. You weren’t exposed for long as Bucky took your wrists in his hand, dragging you into the tent. You couldn’t note any of the features inside as your eyes immediately connected with a familiar blonde. The woman who needed help with her car.

She’d clearly mellowed out, no longer having to fake her niceness. She wore a long, black sundress, her blonde hair tied in a bun, and her collarbone showed a mating mark just like yours. She approached you as Bucky walked away from you. For a moment, you were wishing he was holding you again. How was it that you were more frightened of her at that moment?

You still covered your chest, and in the corner of your eyes, you saw Bucky dressing himself. She eyes your neck marking, “That’s gnarly,” She commented. Her mark was much neater than yours, a sign that she had accepted it willingly, “How bad did it hurt?”

“Why?” Yelena knew what you meant by that. Your anger was obvious as you spoke through gritted teeth.

“Hey, it wasn’t my idea. I’d never voluntarily put suppressants in my system,” That explained why you never smelt her and that meant she knew exactly what you were the entire time she was trying to get close to you, “I still wanted to meet you though. You’re much prettier than we were both expecting. We were expecting a carbon copy of Sam Wilson but you’re quite special.”

Instinctively, you looked to Bucky who was stoic as usual. They both had been watching you. Taking multiple mates was a common practice in the old days. It was rare nowadays as our populations were growing and the negative attitudes toward female shifters had changed.

Bucky added nothing to the conversation, leaving the tent a moment later, “I’m sure you’ve noticed he’s not much of a talker. It’s always the quiet ones …” Yelena’s voice trailed off, “Let me get you something to wear.”

The dress she chose was a cream color, a contrast to hers, but you were glad to not be so vulnerable in front of her. The tent’s bed was low to the ground, covered in various quilts, and it was quite large in size. There was a bear skin rug to decorate the ground and several wooden baskets made for storage. Other than a small table that sat two, there was a wooden basin you assumed was for bathing.

“What’s his plan?” You asked, sitting a few inches from Yelena on the edge of his bed. You finally had someone to actually communicate with and you wouldn’t waste the opportunity, “For me, I mean.”

“His evil plan?” She smiled mischievously, “My guess is he’s going to force an alliance with your Alpha Sam. He’d probably do anything for you, right?”

“He wouldn’t give up everything he believes in for me,” You shook your head.

“Then he’ll die, I suppose,” You scowled at her and she raised her hands in defense, “Sorry, that was harsh. I just mean that everyone will surrender in the end, whether there’s war or not. But, don’t tell him I said this, I have a suspicion that he wants you for much more than an alliance.”

Eyebrows raised, you asked, “What do you mean?”

“He speaks your name in his sleep. I’ve noticed a few times. That’s why I was so curious to meet you.”

That could mean nothing. You hoped it meant nothing. You felt a hand on your shoulder and you were surprised you hadn’t flinched at her touch. You didn’t meet her eyes as her small fingers traveled over your scars. Although you hadn’t sensed she was a wolf when you first met, her scent still felt familiar. You realized you’d seen her on the night you were bitter. The blonde wolf, “I could feel how scared you were,” She spoke absentmindedly, “I didn’t like seeing you like that, but if there’s anything I learned these past months, is that Bucky doesn’t cause pain without a purpose.”

“Why did you choose this? To be with him?”

Your eyes closed as you felt a soft kiss on your shoulder. It was unusual, not feeling the stubble of Bucky’s beard.

“I think you’ll see soon. I can tell my soul is similar to his, like we’ve been tortured by the same things. Bucky’s not so bad, really,” Her warm breath was gentle against your skin and you wondered how someone who wasn’t your mate could have this effect on you, “And he promised me that if I let him take the lead with me, he’d let me take the lead with someone else. I know you’re fighting much of your nature, but you can let your guard down with me.’

She was a Beta like you, you weren’t meant to follow her, but she wasn’t trying to force the submission out of you. It felt like you had a choice with her, and selfishly, you wanted to feel more of that. When she leaned in to kiss you, you didn’t pull away from her, and with her hand on your cheek, you let her guide you.

Bucky never kissed your lips like this and you found yourself wanting her so bad that you kissed her until your lips were aching. You leaned back into the bed as she climbed on top of you, parting your legs with her knees. She pressed her knee towards your center, leaving you grinding against her desperately for more friction, “He fucks you like an animal, doesn’t he?” She purred, “You poor thing.”

She moved her leg in the center to your other side before she grabbed your hands. You thought she might pin them above your head but she placed them on her own hips, “He loses control with you. He wants to own you,” She pulled the ribbon from her hair, freeing it before she ran her fingers through it. All the while she was grinding her hips against you, allowing you to fully look at her, how her nipples poked through her thin dress and feel the curves of body, “I’m sure a girl like you needs a rough fucking every now and then but you want someone to make love to you, hmm?”

She held your breast in her hands, massaging them, as she skillfully moved her hips against your crotch. As her fingers tightly squeezed the most sensitive parts of your nipple, you thought you might cum from that alone, “Look at me,” She directed, snapping you from your trance, “I’ll teach you to make love, printcessa.”

She moved your hands to her bottom, encouraging you to squeeze and feel as she leaned down to resume your kissing.

“Go as slow as you want, and you don’t have to bounce. Grinding feels the best. You can control the speed and how deep you want it.” The first time you had sex was a few days ago and yet you had no idea how versatile it could be, “And let him see you. Let him gaze at you, take in all of your beauty. You’re the girl of his dreams. Don’t let him forget you’re the treasure, why else would he work so hard to have you.”

“I can’t-” You moaned as she kissed your neck.

“You can,” She whispered into her ear. She suddenly stopped her movements, leaving you high and dry, “You will.”

The camp of rogues wasn’t at all what you expected it to be. You couldn’t imagine them as the ones causing death and carnage all around the country. The people were almost friendly. Almost friendly because you were still an outsider to them and someone who was a supporter of modern pack dynamics. They followed Bucky because of his promise to bring back traditional values. They believed in him enough to kill and murder for him.

You supposed you had no right to judge their sins after you let your moment with Yelena get so heated. Now, you were stuck to her side as she showed you around, “This place is only temporary. We’ve only been here a few weeks. Bucky plans on traveling south soon.”

“And what about everything I have here?”

“You have me now. You have us,” Yelena said matter-of-factly, “Don’t tell me you dream of working your whole life.”

“I dream of having something that’s mine.”

“Hmm,” Yelena carefully connected freshly picked flowers together. The two of you sat together on a picnic bunch, a group of women having gracefully provided her with several baskets of flowers, “Well, maybe if you play house good enough with Bucky, he’ll want to stay. It seems like he was having fun with you.”

“This is fucked,” Yelena giggled at that.

“You’re telling me. Here, let me show you how to make a lei.”

You held up your hand, “I can make a leigh. We used to make them all the time for the mating ceremon–” You turned to her with wide eyes, “A mating ceremony? When?”

“Tonight,” She stated and she scooted closer as she felt you begin to panic, “All the firsts are almost done. This is the last step, I promise, and then you can find your new normal.”

With watering eyes you looked at her, “And what do I say to Sam?”

“That you’re doing your best, printcessa.”

The full moon shone above all of you, a cool breeze caressing you while the large bonfire warmed you simultaneously. There was singing all around you, the lyrics of pagan songs about the moon goddess provided sweet sounds in your ear. It calmed you almost as much as all the red win in your system.

There was a lot of dancing, even before the ceremony was to take place. Bucky sat alone on a tree stump watching as you and Yelena hopped together around the fire. Every now and again, she’d press her lips to yours, allowing you to taste the wine on her own lips.

The song was about dancing, dancing around the fire, spirits dancing, the moon goddess dancing, all under the moonlight, “Come,” Yelena suddenly grabbed your hand, dragging you around the circle and you were laughing until suddenly you were chest to chest with him. He grabbed your arms to steady you and you almost saw the hint of a grin on the evil Alpha’s lips, “My beautiful lovers. I could cry just looking at you.”

She joined you and Bucky’s hands together. The singing continued, this time a softer ballad about how the Moon Goddess gave each one of her creatures a soulmate. A lei of red flowers was placed over your head and a lei of white flowers was placed over him. A transfer of innocence. In your case, it was forcefully taken.

Everyone began to surround the two of you, red candles in each of their hands. “Alpha, take Y/N as your lawfully wedded mate. Be faithful to her in times of strife, bring children lovingly from the Goddess’s arms, and honor her for the rest of her life,” It was perfectly recited by every member, and soon, in the eyes of the Moon Goddess, the two of you were wed.

The celebrations began again and would most likely continue until the early hours of the morning. It was customary to cover the sounds of the bride and groom’s consummation. Bucky kept one of your hands in his and your other was quickly warmed again by Yelena’s as they led you back to the tent.

Bucky’s face was warm with color and you now knew that this is what he looked like when he was happy. He didn’t waste any time with you, burying his face above your scent gland, as he pulled the sleeves of your dress down. The fabric piled at your feet, leaving you completely exposed, but you weren’t frightened of it like before.

“Sit,” He told you and you slowly sat down on the bed, “Yelena.” The way he spoke her name was like dripping honey.

He did the same to her, undressing her slowly, but she had the honor of undressing him next. You watched them kiss and you couldn’t help but imagine her lips on yours, how softly possessive they were. Her hands wandered lower to his manhood, palming the large member. He grunted and he must’ve felt overwhelmed because his hand wrapped around her throat, allowing him more control.

When they finally pulled away, your legs were crossed over each other, your center beginning to ache. Bucky looked at you with so much hunger and you moved further back on the bed in an attempt to brace yourself. Yelena lingered beside the bed, taking her time to watch the two of you next.

As he crawled on top of you, you held out your hand, pressing against his chest to stop him, “Bucky, wait,” He was confused by your effort to touch him and only responded by pushing your hand away. He used all his strength to grab you by your hips and turn your body over. You gripped the sheets tightly and you could barely take in a deep breath before he was pushing into you.

His first movements were slow but deep, and you winced at every single one. You tried to keep your balance as you held yourself on all fours even as he began to pound into you. A calming hand ran across the length of your back before it began to play in your hair, “Slow, rodnoy,” She spoke to him, using a pet name in her native tongue, “You’ll break her before she has a chance to pleasure me.”

Bucky was still taking you from behind, this time slower, as she placed a kiss on your shoulder and then leaned down to kiss your cheek. She maneuvered herself in front of you, sitting as she spread her legs before you, “Kiss me here,” She told you, her voice calm and nurturing, “Touch me how you’d like to be touched.”

You did as she said, kissing her thighs and then above her sensitive center. You felt her shudder when you placed a kiss on her sensitive spot. She guided you more, telling you to make long strokes with tongue. You moaned against her, unable to control yourself, but this seemed to amuse her. She encouraged you to tease her, to slowly build things up and you tried your best despite the fact that you were orgasming. When you were finally focusing on her bulb, her legs began to shake, “Right there, don’t stop,” You tried not to change your pressure or your movement, sensing that her climax was near. She cradled your head in her hand, pressing you more into her as she grinded out her orgasm, “Mmmm, good girl.”

As she recovered, she got on her knees, lifting your body and allowing you to lean on her. Your lips met with her, her sweet flavor swirling between you. Bucky increased his pace and you held onto Yelena for support.

“Darling, let her look upon your face,” Yelena said to him gently, “Trust me.”

You thought you might collapse when he pulled out of you but Yelena was there to hold onto you. Her eyes were loving when your eyes connected again. She’d seen you at your most vulnerable but that made her like you more.

Bucky laid down on the bed, his hands caressing Yelena’s bottom but his eyes were on you. He’d be able to see all of you, truly, and that should’ve frightened you more than it did. You straddled Bucky and Yelena was the one to help guide you inside of him. It was much more intense when you were lowering yourself down at your own speed.

Bucky’s hands moved to your waist while you held onto his chest. It was almost too much, your senses felt completely invaded, but you remembered how Yelena told you that you could control your own pace.

You’re the girl of his dreams.

Yelena looked at you like you were the girl in hers. You slowly let him move in and out of you, your bulb grinding against his pelvis. The way he was looking at you, admiring your movements as much as your face and body, gave you a surge in confidence. You saw him grit his teeth and that made you move faster. You imagined the amount of pleasure he must be in and then your mind wandered to Yelena.

She noticed your worries, “Don’t worry about me. It’s your wedding night, he should be finishing inside of you,” As she said those words, Bucky suddenly grabbed her hips causing her to yelp. He forced her onto his face, grabbing ahold of her bottom and thighs as he took her into his mouth. Her yelp turned into a giggle and you found yourself smiling too.

You and Yelena orgasmed together and soon Bucky was spilling into you.

That night, the three of you were tucked in tightly to each other, Yelena laid against you and Bucky was big enough to hold you both.

One month later, you sat on top of the bathroom counter, watching curiously as Yelena brought scissors to Bucky’s hair. He was sitting on the edge of the bathtub, a pink towel wrapped around his neck that made him look silly.

“How’s it looking to you?” Yelena asked.

He looked very different but the haircut allowed for more of his face to show. In a way, it made him look less intimidating.

“I think you could go shorter.”

“No,” Bucky was quick to say. With both you and Yelena around to talk his ear off, it was no wonder that the man was learning to speak more.

“Hey, who’s the hair stylist here?” The grumpy wolf had no reaction, “I’m almost done, it won’t be too short. You have two beautiful women on your arm, you can’t look like caveman.”

A lot had changed in a month. Both Bucky and Yelena had gotten comfortable in the small cottage and Bucky’s plans to move south were delayed. Just as Sam was building his army, Bucky was doing the same. Unlike Sam, Bucky now had a real family which he was going to use to his advantage when trying to convince other packs to join him.

There wasn’t anything you could do to remove the mark on your neck. Perhaps you should’ve fought harder or laid your life down on the line. You hadn’t expected to fall for Yelena, and in turn, let her coax you into loving an unlovable man.

You worried what you would say to Sam. You didn’t want to hurt him but you didn’t want to hurt either. Things were easier when you accepted them. Hopefully he’d understand that.

“I like it,” You said to her, smiling wide.

Hopefully.

#dark!fic #dark fic #dark!bucky barnes #dark!yelena belova #bucky barnes x yelena belova #bucky barnes x reader #werewolf au #a/b/o fic #avengers a/b/o #black!reader #wilson!reader #sam wilson #Bucky Barnes #yelena belova #yelena belova x female reader #mcu smut #avengers smut #crackship #dany x drogo

962 notes · View notes