#sir was everything his plotting was everything

[badbatchsprincess]

Heated ~ pt.18

Pt.1 ~ Pt.2 ~ Pt.3 ~ Pt.4 ~ Pt.5 ~ Pt.6 ~ Pt.7 ~ Pt.8 ~ Pt.9 ~ Pt.10 ~Pt.11 ~ Pt.12 ~ Pt.13 ~ Pt.14 ~ Pt.15 ~ Pt.16 ~ Pt.17 ~ Pt.18

Masterlist

Summary: This is an ABO Bad batch!Poly x Omega Reader smut with a plot. This takes place as an AU before order 66. Y/N previously served under the 501st before being transferred to Special Forces 99. This is her adventure with these rowdy Alphas in a quickly changing universe.

THIS IS AN ABO AU ABOUT THE BAD BATCH (NO CANON OMEGA!) Due to the unfortunate situation of her name being Omega… Omega the child from the canon series is not going to be apart of this fanfic/porn with a plot. I feel obligated to put this warning in because it makes my skin crawl thinking anyone could make that mistake. 

Warnings: Violence, gore, kidnapping, Tarkin is a creepy hoe, Crosshair being a dick, Dom!Crosshair, smut, orgasm denial, spanking, mate bonds, Pip is influenced by Crosshair’s presence

DADDYYYYY'SSSS HOOOOMMMEEEE!

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

“I can’t believe she’s alive, sir.” You heard a woman’s voice echo in your mind. Her sound was unfamiliar to you. 

The second thing you noticed was the mechanical whirl of the cold floor below you, everything was cold. Except for the warm softness under your throbbing head. Staying entirely still, you waited for your body to catch up with your hearing. You recalled your trauma training, wiggling each tow inside your boot, then moving up each joint and muscle throughout your legs before testing the responsibility in your other extremities. It helped get your mind grounded in your body again as you lay on the cold ship floor.

Based off the smells, you knew you were no longer with your pack. This was new territory which only means one thing….

You’re in imperial custody. 

You heard Crosshair’s familiar silvery voice mumble something back to the woman but decided you were going to try and figure out your situation first, listening before acting. He was close by you deduced, probably standing guard over your pallet on the floor. You were also aware that you had very limited time before you’d get to wherever they were taking you. 

Listening a little closer, you heard plastoid armor shuffling all around you, there must be soldiers in the jumpseats lining his transport vessel. You heard the whirl of the ship knowing the engines were located on the under belly making it a newer model. Tech told you about their engineering. Usually the engine cores are located on the back of vessels, but new military class ships with loading ramps build the engines into the floor. 

“What happened to her?” The woman asked again probably referencing the cut to your head and whatever sorry state you were currently found in. 

“She got injured from that helmet they had on her.” Crosshair said shuffling his boots, he was standing right above your head. 

You felt the air shift around you and sensed someone was coming near you, “She looks…stronger… than most omegas.” She said skeptically. You could feel the woman kneeling behind you as he observed your form. 

“She wasn’t like that the last time I saw her, but she has been running with mercenaries.” Crosshair put a toothpick back into his mouth. 

“That doesn’t seem normal for her kind.” You felt her lightly brush a curious finger tip over your collarbone but Crosshair’s snarl stopped her. 

That was when you decided to act. 

Crosshair’s second in command let out a startled gasp when you suddenly flew up off the pallet wrapping your legs around her neck in a vice grip making her claw at your legs as you squeezed the life from the soldier. 

“Kriff.” Crosshair shot up off the wall but you got up quickly knowing you’d have to keep your distance from him. The second in command rolled her side, heaving, trying to get oxygen back into her lungs. 

You sprung into action, taking the other storm troopers by surprise. You reached into your back belt where Hunter had put his blade and you gripped the handle firmly bringing it to your front. The first trooper that tried to grab you got his forearm slashed deeply making him scream and retreat. You then brought the knife down harshly into his neck kicking him away from you to bleed out. 

“Get her under control!” Crosshair barked out nearing you. 

You grabbed another trooper kicking him in the chest sending him backwards into Crosshair while you turned on the others using your blade to cut and slash your way through the mob. 

“What the fuck!” One of the soldiers exclaimed as you expertly kicked out his knees and brought him to the ground using the knife and your vast knowledge of the human body to end his life in an instant. 

“Omega!” Crosshair yelled but you ignored him. The severed bond seemed to have also prevented his alpha command from working. You were free from his influence.

Crosshair suddenly realized his one fatal mistake… you had been trained… by Echo. 

He watched you cut down his men like they were nothing more than canon fodder. It was shocking. More of his men came flooding into the blood bath hearing the commotion. 

You snarled at them flipping yourself through the air using your boots and beskar armor to bash them down into the durasteel floor with a harshness you were unaware you carried. When you reached down to grab a discarded blaster, Crosshair’s second raised her blaster aiming at you. 

“Do. Not. Kill. Her!” Crosshair pushed her weapon to the side watching the plasma bolt burrow into the side of the ship. You watched her miss, and you turned on them, aiming your own gun and pulling the trigger. They both dodged out of the way in time, but you unleashed your training on the other unsuspecting troopers. 

“I’ve never seen an omega do that!” You heard his second yell over the bangs. 

“She’s no average omega.” Crosshair pressed himself into the crate keeping himself out of your range, “Set it to stun.”

He peeked his head out from behind the crate to find you heaving, covered in crimson blood, taking a trooper down into a flurry on the ground. Hunter’s blade had gotten knocked from your hands in the fight but that didn’t stop you. 

If Crosshair wasn’t so set on his mission to detain you, he would have stopped to admire your work. He guessed all those months with his brothers, you had changed. No longer were you the meek little republic medic, but you had turned into a warrior. 

“She’s going to kill the whole company if we wait any longer.” His second, Wren looked anxious. She was the best solder coming out of the imperial military academy. She was specifically selected for this very delicate mission which seemed to go in a direction neither of them had anticipated. 

“We can’t hurt her,�� Crosshair drilled into the two of them, “Nothing can hurt her!” 

“I got that, but she’s fucking feral!” Wren scrunched back against the crate as a bloody helmet went flying by, “She’s going to tear apart the ship.” 

And just like you had with Echo, it was like you got a whisper in your ear and you knew exactly what Crosshair had planned to do. He was between you and the cockpit of the ship. Mate or not, you were getting to that damn cockpit even if you had to kill the bastard to get there. 

Just as you sensed him and the female trooper emerge from behind the crates, you spun, grabbing one of the flailing troopers by the collar, using him as a human shield for Crosshair’s stun ray. The young trooper dropped like dead weight and you watched as the woman pulled her trigger in your direction. You just stepped out of the way letting the stun ray fly right past you into a trooper behind you. 

You used your boot to kick a discarded riffle up into your hands flicking off the safety. 

Wren and Crosshair aimed for a second shot, but you beat them to it. It was like your body was moving on its own accord. Like something took over you… 

You momentarily wondered if this is what it’s like being Crosshair. If so, you felt powerful. It was like nothing you’d ever experienced before. There was such cool collectedness. Such pure concentration.

Raising the weapon up and tucking it into your arm, you unloaded onto their crates missing Crosshair by, well, a hair. You heard him curse and duck while Wren threw herself down onto the ground to duck for cover. 

“You’re going to take me back to Bracca now!” You snarled with a voice that didn’t even sound like your own. It was something silvery and wicked. 

Crosshair’s voice was breathier than usual, “Learn some new tricks huh, omega?” 

“You have no fucking idea.” You fired a few more bullets reminding him you still had the gun. 

“I can’t take you back, Pip.” He said grabbing one of his plasma reflectors. He tossed it onto the wall watching you through the reflection. 

You crept closer stepping over the gargling troopers who had fallen victim to your blade. 

“Fine.” You smiled viciously, “Then I’ll kill youm and take the ship back myself.” 

“You can’t do that mesh’la.” He sounded cocky, “You forget… you’ll die too.” 

You smiled devilishly, “That’s no longer a concern.” 

He furrowed his brow as he very slowly reached for fire puncher. Wren watched him anxiously clenching her own blaster. What the hell did you mean by that?

“Our bond has been severed, alpha.” You taunted. 

Crosshair’s stomach knotted… what did you just say? 

“Notice how your commands no longer work on me?” You kicked one of the destroyed helmets forward making Wren flinch. Never had she ever seen an omega like you. 

You chuckled, “Your brothers made sure I’d be severed from you.” Bending down, you picked up the bloody knife holding it in your free hand. It was like Crosshair’s base instincts were flooding your entire being. It was thrilling. Having a peek inside his brain was like being dowsed in chilled spring water.

“Thats not possible.” He bit out watching you raise your weapon.

“But it is sweetheart.” You noticed the curve of his second’s back bowing out from behind the crate carelessly. 

You locked onto your target hoping to roust her out of her hiding spot to get a clean shot. 

Crosshair had to time his shot perfectly, or it would just be you and him. And while he was confident he could take you in hand to hand, you may not let it get to that point if you keep acting like a fucking ARC trooper. Fucking Echo maker kark it. 

He watched you tighten your grip and peer down the scope, “What? Nothing to say?” 

He remained silent, focusing on aiming his own shot perfectly through the reflector. Right as he sensed you squeeze the trigger, he quickly pulled his own. He heard both you and Wren shriek, as your bullet graze Wren’s back, while his bullet knocked the gun from your hands. He stood up in an instant ready to stun you when you threw Hunter’s knife with all your force, watching it soar through the air rotating at the speed of light. Crosshair just barely stepped out of the way to made his shot while the tip of the blade sliced through the side of his skull just missing his ear.

He watched you collapse into the puddle of blood with a thump as he pressed his palm to the side of his head feeling the blood pour.

He did it. 

He made the shot. 

Wren whined in pain and he set down his riffle to check on his second. He flipped her over seeing the angry red canyon you’d carved through her back all the way to her opposite rib. That was definitely going to leave a scar. The alpha screamed in agony as Crosshair maneuvered her to keep her off her back. 

Then he ran over to you. Your stunned body lay amongst your victims. He almost couldn’t believe the brutality in which you killed them. It was like you had been trained your entire life in combat. There was no way Echo could have conditioned you that quickly. He was stunned. He looked around at the ship seeing all the blood splatters and stray bullets. It looked like a butcher was in here. He just couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“Has the target been detained?” The pilots asked from the cockpit.

Crosshair radioed back, “Yeah, but let command know we’re going to need a clean up team.” 

He stared down at your limp figure, you were covered head to toe in his men’s blood. He shook his head still shocked you had caused so much violence, Wren’s pained cries echos off the durasteel walls drawing his attention away from the slaughter. 

~~~

Crosshair had taken extra precaution and used a pair of binders to keep your wrists detained as he slung your body over his shoulder. You dangled limply as the landing ramp opened up to the comfortable warm Nabooan air. 

On the tarmac, a team of hazmat troopers arrived to carry away the deceased, and a squad of medics came to help Wren while the remaining two pilots exited the ship with Crosshair. He didn’t miss the way the entire garrison stared in absolute abject horror at the tiny bloody omega on his shoulder. 

He heard their murmurs and knew that they were discussing his infamous mate. 

You had become quite the conversation after Tarkin made it his upmost top priority to track you down and retrieve you with no expense spared. 

Crosshair had also torn apart the base when he first felt the bond sever. He knew his outburst had reached every corner of the imperial base with gossip. Of course everyone was beginning wondering who this important omega was, and why she was so important to Tarkin’s favorite soldier and the empire itself. 

Crosshair heard the whispers and the gasps at seeing you and the damage you had caused on the way over here. 

“Is that her?” 

“An omega did that?” 

“Is that her blood?” 

“Did he do that to her?”

The hushed comments continued as Crosshair crossed the landing pad carrying you inside. Tarkin was alerted immediately that you had been found and brought back to Naboo upon entry to Nabooan airspace. 

“Is this her?” Tarkin asked approaching the sniper curiously. 

“Yes.” Crosshair replied coldly. 

“What happened?” Tarkin observed the dripping blood on his pristine floors from your bound finger tips. 

“She killed the entire squadron.” Crosshair adjusted his grip on you. 

“Alone?” The admiral questioned. His skepticism was evident. 

“Yes.” Crosshair said plainly, “It appears my batch mates have been training her in close quarter combat.” 

“How many of your men?” 

“All of them. She nearly had the captain too.” Crosshair watched Tarkin circle the two of you looking very pleased, “She killed the medic that treated her on Bracca, but he insisted I get her to a bacta tank. She fell nearly two stories during an explosion.”

The admiral hummed in displeasure. He gestured for another medic who came running over to them, “Get a medical team prepared to treat her. She must make a full recovery.” Tarkin ordered. 

Crosshair watched the medic leave and return with a stretcher which Crosshair carefully set your body down on. The sniper and the admiral keeping a close pace behind the medic as he pushed you towards the medical wing. 

“Has she always been vicious?” Tarkin questioned bending down to get a look at your face. 

Crosshair noticed a small audience gathering in the halls trying to get a peak at his mate, “I’ve heard stories of her past, but I haven’t witnessed it myself until today.” Crosshair said, “Her violence had been instinctual… protecting pups.” 

“Very good.” Tarkin approved, “I want you to take good care of her. She’s a remarkable specimen. She must remain in optimal health.” 

“Sir?” Crosshair questioned. 

Tarkin gave him a tight lipped smile, “I want you to retire being a soldier and be her… Alpha. You may keep her, as I am sure you desire that now that you know she is in fact alive” 

“Just so I’m clear, you don’t wish for me to serve the empire any longer?” Crosshair was confused. Tarkin didn’t want him to be a sniper anymore?

Tarkin gestured for Crosshair to enter into the medical lab before him. 

“You will continue to serve the empire but you have a new purpose.” Tarkin explained as the two of them trailed towards the new residential sector. “Your mate is a very rare variant lupine. She is not to leave this facility as she is integral to our new project. She’s a very unique specimen indeed.” 

“Rare variant?” He questioned, watching the beta scientists carefully lift your limp body up into the bacta tank. They removed the binders and started peeling off your boots and outer layers before beginning the sequence to drop you in. 

Tarkin watched the process as well, “Her kind is not bound by monogamy like the rest of us. I was skeptical at first, I don’t believe she knows what she is either. Most of her kind have been hunted into extinction.” 

“May I ask what you need her for?” Crosshair felt a tinge of anxiety simmer in his stomach. His alpha instincts weren’t liking this. He just got you back, he wasn’t letting anyone take you from him. Not now.

Tarkin explained, “We are looking for the most effective way to replenish our military. Sure, mandatory conscription is convenient, but it has been made very obvious to us that the clones were and are superior soldiers. We wish to bring forward another generation of warriors made from clone DNA and…” He gestured to your limp body. Crosshair tensed and bit back a snarl.

Tarkin continued, “However, we understand that the omega picks her mates, as she has with you and other clones we discovered through some… interrogations.” 

Crosshair knew he was referring to Captain Howzer. His fists tightened slightly. The jealousy he tried so hard to repress was rearing its ugly head. 

“She has a natural disposition for attraction to clones, she’s extremely intelligent, and as we have now learned, she has a calling to violence. She’s the perfect candidate for our program, and due to her very rare genetic variation she isn’t bound to monogamy, which means more pups… my head scientists believes that she will be a remarkable specimen for a new cloning program.” Tarkin clasped his hands behind his back. 

Crosshair forced himself to take a silent breath. 

Tarkin wishes to clone you? 

He watched the blood caked to your skin dissolve in the bacta solution as you floated peacefully.  

Crosshair looked sideways at the Admiral, “You wish to clone her, then breed her clones with other clones?” Crosshair was trying to follow along. The empire wanted to create an entire generation of clone offspring… using you…

“Precisely.” Tarkin nodded curtly. 

Crosshair turned and looked to the admiral waiting for the catch. 

Tarkin just smiled and looked up at his favorite sniper, “Keep her happy and healthy, those are yournew orders.” 

Crosshair nodded. This has to be the strangest set of orders he’s ever received. He watched Tarkin spin on his heel and head for the door.

The Admiral was about to leave the medical bay before he angled his head looking over his shoulder back to Crosshair, “and I expect you to complete the mate bond, and pup her, as soon as possible.” Tarkin paused waiting for Crosshair’s response. 

Crosshair just nodded, trying to make himself speak “Yes, sir.” 

Tarkin gave a satisfied huff as he marched out of the facility. Crosshair just stared blankly at the empty walk-way trying to even begin to understand all the information he just received. 

This just got a lot more complicated. 

~~~

The sharp taste of bacta coated your mouth making you smack your lips together trying to clear it. Your mouth was unbearably dry and when you tried to open your eyes, you felt like they had been welded shut. You groaned rubbing at them trying to will your eye lids to obey but they were heavy.

When you were able to finally crack them open, you blinked a few times trying to adjust to the lights. You then realized you were perched on a squishy bed under a thick duvet cover. Never in your life had you ever felt such soft sheets. You ran your hand over the white cottons before forcing yourself to sit up. 

The disorientation came to a screeching halt when you noticed the looming dark figure in the corner of the room. 

There lay Crosshair, still as a statue, seemingly asleep upright in a lounge chair. 

You sucked in a breath going entirely still. You were suddenly afraid your movements would wake him. 

You couldn’t remember much, but all you knew was that you needed to get the hell out of here… where ever here is…

Slowly, you shimmied your legs out from under the duvet before hopping down onto the plushest carpet you’d ever felt. You realized you were in nothing but a silk slip as your bare legs were now exposed to the comfortable air. Nothing about this was making any sense, what the hell is this place?

You crept forwards keeping your feet light and a concentrated eye on Crosshair’s form. He hadn’t moved one bit as you crossed the massive bedroom. 

Just as you were about to open the door…

“Omega.” His voice made you freeze in place. 

He still hadn’t moved, nor opened his eyes. You could hear your heart beating in your ears feeling like a little prey animal under his predatory aura. 

“Go back to bed.” He said lowly. 

You remained frozen trying to weigh your options. Run and pray, or comply and wait. Neither were good. And this was Crosshair, he was abnormally agile like his brothers. He’d snatch you up like a nexu. 

When he realized you weren’t going to listen, he opened his eyes without moving a muscle. You felt yourself bite back a whimper as fear suddenly started to ebb its way into your nervous system. 

You watched him stretch as he stood up loosing up the tight muscles from sleeping in that padded chair. 

You backed up a step determined to run if he made any sudden movements. You also realized he wasn’t in his military kit either, he was wearing a loose black t-shirt and a pair of matching joggers. His feet were bare too. You hadn’t ever really seen him like this outside of your apartment. You suddenly began to wonder if you were back on Coruscant? 

Well, this was certainly no apartment of yours… 

“You need to rest omega.” He very slowly approached you. 

You shook your head starring to feel like a disobedient child the way he was scowling at you. 

“Y/N.” He snarled, “Wanna do it the hard way? Fine.” In a flash, he lunged at you and you scurried out of the way narrowly dodging his grasp. You screamed running from him as you crossed the room. 

“Omega!” He yelled chasing after you, swiping for your ankle as you jumped across the massive king size bed and took off running on the other side of the room flinging yourself into the adjoining closet before locking the door behind you. He might be significantly taller than you, but you were speedier. 

He growled pounding on the metal trying to figure out a way to open it. You quickly dismantled the locking mechanism giving yourself some time before he came barreling in. 

Your heart was racing as you looked around trying to figure out a way out of this before he inevitably came to retrieve you. 

“Be a good girl and open this fucking door omega.” You heard him from the other side of the door. 

Looking up, you tried finding an air vent or something that could help you but you couldn’t find anything. 

Remembering what Tech always said, you got down on all fours crawling around the clothes in the closet looking for a vent on the floor. When you noticed a difference in the wall, you pushed the clothes back revealing a grated vent. 

“Yes.” You sighed crawling forwards to rip it from the wall. But to your dismay, it seems someone had already thought two steps ahead of you. The vent just led to a smaller one that no human could crawl through. 

You heard the door panel whoosh open and spun around to see Crosshair marching towards you. 

You stood up, ripping the clothes from the rail and started throwing them at him. He just batted them away unbothered by your attempt to stop him. 

“Alpha please!” You whined backing up into the clothes clearly frightened. 

Something in him switched and he stopped in his tracks. Maybe it was the sound of your voice warbling with fright, or how small you looked in the sea of black clothes, but he came to a total stop staring at you. 

You were a lot less intimidating outside of the beskar his brothers adorned you with. You looked too small suddenly, not like the fierce warrior that took out his entire garrison with your rage just a few mere days ago. The owlish eyes that frantically searched for an out, made his skin crawl. You shouldn’t be reacting like this to him… he’s your alpha for kriff sake. 

“Please.” You whispered the beg seeming like you were searching for something in him.

He sighed, “You can’t be up running around yet. You fractured two ribs and your pelvis from the fall.” He was the one now pleading with you, “Please, go back to bed.” 

You took a deep breath trying to read him. Was this a trap? You couldn’t really tell, but you knew he wasn’t lying about your ribs. You could feel the ache with every breath. 

Slowly, you stood inching towards him. He didn’t move a muscle, instead he allowed you to pass him before he followed you out of his closet and into the main sleeping quarters. 

You saw him following you from the corner of your eye as you very tentatively crawled back up onto the bed settling back in the middle like you had beed previously. You kelt on the mattress watching him stand at the foot of the bed crossing his arms. 

He stared at you intensely making your squirm in the silence.

“How did you do it?” He asked sounding pissed. Your heart began to patter. 

You stared at him trying to figure out what the hell he was talking about. 

He narrows his eyes, “The bond.” 

You looked down at your hands fiddling with the sheets, “I was dying. You brothers took me to a planet where force sensitive wolves severed the bond to save me.” 

He remained stoic as ever. It was unsettling.

“I thought you died.” He bit out harshly, “Nearly killed me.” 

You whined quietly with guilt. 

He bit at his lip missing his toothpick, “How are you fine right now? It feels fucking empty in here!” He jabbed a finger into his chest, “it’s torture!” 

You just stared at his chest feeling your heart break for the alpha. You had thought about the kind of pain he might be feeling, those dreams kept you up at night. The others tried to convince you he’d be fine and that he probably didn’t feel much of anything, but you knew deep down it was so much worse. 

His confirmation only made you feel more guilty. You studied his face better in the day light. He was skinnier than you remembered. It had been months running around the galaxy with your pack, while you had bulked up with muscles, your alpha across from you looked like he had been dragged through bantha shit for months on end. Even his hair was longer and mused from sleep. He looked so different.

He sighed seeming exhausted. 

He reached forward to touch your ankle but you flinched drawing your limb closer to yourself. The look in his eyes nearly made you cry on the spot. He looked… horrified? Guilty? Disgusted?

“Omega.” That wasn’t the reaction he wanted from you. He also seemed guilty?

You were about to open your mouth to say something… anything… when the door to the apartments chimed open and a small army of medical droids floated inside. 

He stood upright putting himself between you and the imperial doctor walking inside. The small beta man approached with his glasses and a data pad kind-of resembling Tech. You watched him hesitate in the doorway seeing Crosshair puff out his chest and cross his arms with a raised brow waiting for an explanation. There was no chance this man was stepping one more foot inside this room without Crosshair’s explicit permission.

Clearly, entering an alpha’s bedroom with his omega in bed wasn’t the smartest decision. 

You instantly recognized the uniform which only meant one thing… you were in imperial custody. That also meant that whatever this place was, it was also imperial.

You peeked out from behind Crosshair getting the doctor’s attention he looked at you before looking back at the alpha towering over him. 

You needed to start to devise a plan to get out of here. 

 “I-I uh, I uhm need to get new scans. If t-that’s okay?” The technician stuttered as Crosshair’s aura intimidated the hell out of the poor kid. 

You realized Crosshair had made some kind of reputation within this new empire… and it clearly wasn’t one of rainbows and butterflies.

You smiled suddenly realizing you could definitely use this to your advantage…You were his omega after all. The kid noticed your grin as you suddenly settled back into the thick covers. 

He slightly narrows his eyes watching your mischievous face turn sickly sweet as you opened your mouth to speak, “Alpha?” The tone of your voice was like a soft caress to Crosshair’s ears. You suddenly looked up at him mustering the most nervous look you could. 

When he turned his attention to you, you squirmed uncomfortably making worried eyes at the medical technician. Crosshair’s protectiveness kicked into hyperdrive and he turned back to the beta, “Get out.” 

“B-but!” He tried to explain. 

“Now.” Crosshair stepped forwards making all the droids and the medical tech nervously back out of the room.

You smiled and waved at the technician making the kid sputter as he darted out of the apartment. 

“The next person to walk in here without permission will not walk out, do I make myself clear?” Crosshair growled menacingly, locking the main door behind the kid. 

When he returned you were leaning against the headboard watching him cross the massive bedroom. He gave you a knowing look, like he knew exactly the game you were playing with him. You crossed your arms over your chest pushing up your breasts watching him approach the end of the bed once again. 

“You’re far more manipulative than the last time I had seen you.” He snipped and crossed his arms to match yours. 

You eyed him, “A lot has changed.” 

“Clearly.” He retorted. 

You steeled yourself, “You tried to kill me.” 

He stilled, taking a quick calming breath, “You defied direct orders.” 

“I am your mate Crosshair!” You snarled leaning forwards on the bed unable to keep your voice from raising. 

“Are you?” He narrowed his eyes. 

You took a breath trying to calm the anger raging inside. 

Maybe he didn’t view you as a mate anymore, not after the bond was severed. That thought hadn’t crossed your mind until now.

“Why am I here?” You lifted your chin trying to mimic his coolness. 

“You are, or were, my mate. I serve the empire. You are to remain here with me, as it should be.” He replied coldly. 

“And if we no longer have a bond?” You raised a brow. 

He blinked slowly, “You are to remain here under imperial custody.” 

“What do they want with me? They wouldn’t allow one soldier to send an entire garrison for one measly omega, now would they?” 

“You’re not just some measly omega now are you.” He pointed a finger at you, “You have some explaining to do, cyra’ika.” 

“I don’t have to explain anything.” You growled. 

He scoffed changing the subject, “Where are they?” 

You just stared at him. There’s no way you’d sell out his brothers to the empire. 

“Do they know?” He raised a brow, he was referring to your special designation, “I’d presume so, you begged them to fuck you all the same.” 

You felt your cheeks redden. 

“I bet they kept fucking you too, huh sweetheart?” He leaned forwards placing one hand menacingly on the bed started to crawl closer, “Once they thought I was gone and out of the picture, they had you all to themselves.” The jealousy in his tone was evident. You knew he never liked to share. 

“Did you know? All this time?” He was hovering over your covered legs making your heart race. The last time he looked at you like that, you had your nose pressed to his belly as you had taken him greedily down your throat. 

You felt a sudden rush of heat flow through you at the memory. 

“Know what?” You whispered. 

He smirked, “What you are?” 

“What am I, Crosshair?” You laid back on your back as he hovered over you keeping you pinned to the mattress beneath him. 

He watched you swallow and noticed the unmarred glad still in tact. He smiled wolfishly down at you. He knew what you were, after Tarkin was explained, all the pieces fit together perfectly. However, he couldn’t help but indulge his jealousy, “You’re mine.” 

He reached forwards gently making contact with your gland with his bare hand. Like a taught rubber band, you felt something snap violently into place making the two of you gasp violently and writhe on the mattress as an unbearable current zapped through your entire system like a lightening strike. 

“Kriff!” He grunted trying to keep himself up and not crush you as he gripped at his sternum. 

You wheezed pushing up at him suddenly feeling claustrophobic. You needed to get away. 

Forcing yourself up from under the covers, you weakly crawled to the side of the bed wobbling on your feet suddenly overcome with the sensation of Crosshair everywhere. 

His scent, his energy, his emotions… it was suffocating. You felt like there were two people inside you as you let out a cry feeling it all come to a freezing halt. 

You clutched the wall trying to catch your breath. You spun around to face him as he hunched over the mattress. He looked at you wildly. 

“The bond.” You breathed. It was intact. 

Then came the burning desire. 

You were suddenly possessed with the need to mate with your alpha.

You crossed the room practically jumping up into the bed crawling to him as he pulled you closer. You sighed feeling his skin against yours once again and you realized just now much you missed his touch. 

You wiggled underneath him yanking at his shirt, pulling it over his head revealing his chest and a spattering of new scars you didn’t recognize. You also didn’t care. All you wanted was him inside you. 

Like he could hear your thoughts, he smirked, nipping at your neck sending your nerves into overdrive. You were flustered everywhere and it was sending aching tingles down into the base of your belly. 

You used your feet to push the waist band of his joggers down revealing the lack of boxers. You smiled and reached greedily for his cock starting to pump him rhythmically. He thrust into your hand as his breathing deepened clearly desperate for your touch. 

“Omega.” He sighed almost silently. 

He pawed at your silk covered tits before frustratingly tearing the straps to get access to you. 

He kissed south, ignoring your squirming as he left your warm palm to lick and suck at your hardening nipples. 

You cried out as he latched on with his warm mouth making you start to drip between your thighs. 

“I’m still mad at you.” You whined pushing your chest up into his mouth. 

“I know.” He tore the slip dress even further until it was fully off your body. His free hand slithered down between your thighs. You parted them eagerly as his fingers traced tight circles around your clit. You mewled grinding your hips into his hand as he worked you open. 

You growled frustratedly wanting more, “Just fuck me Crosshair!”

He withdrew his hand and sat back on his heels before gripping your hips and flipping you over. He brought down a harsh slap against your ass making you scream. 

“So, fucking bossy these days.” He teased rubbing the reddening area, “My vod let you get away with that, huh?”

You pushed your ass up into him ignoring his comments. 

“Who died and made you empress?” He laughed sardonically. 

You huffed as he brought down another harsh slap. You inched up the mattress crying out at the sting. You felt him nudge up behind you, pressing his thighs into yours, then you felt the tip of his cock brush against your dripping cunt teasing you with his warmth. 

“Are you going to behave? Or are you going to be a little brat?” He spat at you pinching your welting ass making you squeal. 

You snarled and whipped your head around to see his evil smirk as he trust forward in one fell swoop wiping that nasty look off your face in an instant. 

You felt like the air was punched from your lungs as he filled you to the absolute brim. The stretch hurt, making you squirm, but Crosshair was merciless. He gripped your hips in a bruisingly tight hold as he pulled you back against his thrusts. You couldn’t recover from his brutal thrusts, all you could do was go limp and take what he was giving you. 

“Give up so soon?” He mocked. 

You could only relax, feeling yourself adjust to his presence while he abused your dripping pussy. 

Your moans reverberated off the walls as his powerful thrusts rocked the king size bed against the wall. You clawed at the mattress trying to find purchase and push back against his onslaught. He chucked at your weak attempt as he leaned forwards to grasp the back of your neck in his hand, pressing you to the mattress keeping you pinned beneath him. 

This felt so wrong but so damn good. Ugh. You mewled as he hit that perfect spot inside you, and suddenly the room was filled with the sound of your squelching cunt and his thighs smacking against yours. You couldn’t believe this was happening right now. It almost felt like a fever dream. 

You reached your hand down between your thighs wanting to cum so badly but Crosshair knocked your hand out of the way to replace it with his own. 

He rubbed soft circles edging you as he continued to thrust. You cried out feeling your climax approach and you squirmed around in his grasp trying to throw yourself over the edge. 

You felt your end coming when Crosshair fully stilled inside you. 

You let out a defeated whine feeling your climax slip further and further away. 

“No!” You cried trying to push his hand out of the way and finish yourself off yourself, but he wouldn’t budge. 

He leaned forwards pressing his mouth to your ear, “Where are they?” 

Your body thrummed with arousal and anxiety… so this was how he was going to torture the information out of you. 

He was seriously going to deny your orgasm until you cracked?

You whined pinching your eyes closed. 

You heard him chuckle as he straightened back up continuing to thrust with a slower pace keeping you just idling on the edge. 

You cried out desperately trying to push yourself back on him but he held you still. 

“You don’t get to cum until you tell me adi’ka.” He smirked. 

“Why?” You sobbed into the mattress. 

He continued to stroke you just right making you shake. Your orgasm was starting to ebb into your field again and he seemed to sense it through the bond bringing himself to stop. You let out a deflated grunt as your joints shook with the need for release. 

“Please Crosshair!” You begged. 

He remained stoically still. 

You felt tears pooling in your eyes, “Please let me cum alpha! Please!” You were on the brink of insanity. 

“You know the rules sweetheart.” He reminded petting the raised welt of his hand on your ass, “Tell me what I want to know, and I’ll give you as many orgasms as you can take.” He lightly toyed with your clit making you shudder.

You sniffled gripping into the covers. 

“I can feel you resisting.” He sounded curious, “I can feel it in the bond. Poor thing, you want to cum so badly don’t you little one?

You huffed trying to gather yourself. 

“I know you’re a stubborn one.” He smiled nipping at your shoulder, “Good thing I’m stubborn too.” 

You were karked. You were karked because you knew he wasn’t going to like your answer regardless. 

“Please.” You whispered rubbing your face into the bed. 

“Tell me little one, and I’ll make you cum.” He promised. 

“You won’t like my answer.” You whined clenching around his hardness. He rewarded you with a little slow thrust trying to egg you on. 

You sighed, “I don’t know where they are.” 

He hummed speeding up his thrusts slightly giving you a small taste of relief. 

“You know them alpha, they’re never anywhere too long.” You cried feeling him start to rub your under stimulated clit, “T-They were taking mercenary jobs for money. We were never anywhere longer than a day or two at most!” 

“Why were you on Bracca?” He started to rub faster making you moan. 

You stuttered, “T-the chips.” You sighed as he picked up this thrusts, “Wrecker’s chip was hurting him and I took them all out.” 

“That doesn’t answer my question.” He slowed and you whined.

“I needed real surgical equipment. The old republic ships all had them!” You admitted. You were careful to leave Rex out of this. There was no reason for the empire to know he was alive and rescuing clone prisoners. 

“Good girl.” He praised bringing his pace back up to the brutal pace you craved, “Now, was that so hard?” He couldn’t help but tease you. 

You just groaned finally feeling your climax approach as he rewarded you for your confession. His skilled fingers brought you to the edge and swiftly threw you over and you came with a deafening scream. It was so powerful your entire body shuddered and convulsed as his thrusts got a little sloppy too before he came with a grunt. 

He continued thrusting through his orgasm until he couldn’t take the stimulation anymore and pulled out watching as your cunt fluttered and his spend oozed out of you in creamy droplets. He watched mesmerized as you collapsed onto the bed totally worn out. The edging had been rough on you, and he realized he probably should have been a little softer on you since you were supposed to be in recovery. 

He tried his best to catch his breath as he slid off the bed to hunt down a wash cloth. He came back to clean you up and then himself before he disappeared into the bathroom again. You curled up on your side pulling the sheets over you trying to still come down from your high. Your brain was laden with pleasure as you felt yourself drift off into peaceful sleep. 

You sighed, escaping Crosshair and this place would have to come later. 

These next few chapters are going to be fucked ngl, dirty Crosshair smut to come, and angstttttt

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Taglist: @substantial-exposure

@rains-on-kamino

@minimissmoo

@z-and-the-batboys

@aynavaano

@9902sgirl

@sideofhorny

@sxftiebee

@booksandtitts-blog

ALSO IF ANYONE WANTS TO BE ADDED TO THE TAG LIST PLEASE COMMENT BELOW, I KEEP LOOSING YALL IN MY ACTIVITY BAR LOL MY BAD

#crosshair #hunter #tech #wrecker #abo #echo #star wars #bad batch #smut #omega #tarkin #clone wars #tbb #rex #imperial crosshair

[studioghibelli]

bloody knuckles | 18+

a cooper howard x reader

summary: a vengeful ghoul, a torrid past, two souls lost in the wasteland- a bond forged in survival is a bond that is forever unbreakable, and yours has stood the test of time. until your betrayal ruins it all.

warnings: brief canon typical violence, themes of guilt & betrayal, a lot of angst, maybe a slow burn? idk if it can count as that, a lot of smut, (face sitting, piv, unprotected sex, spitting, cannibalistic metaphors, one sir kink, etc.) obviously a lot of deviations from the original plot of the show, etc. (long word count: 6.6k)

note: i didn't spell check this or have anyone beta it or anything. any inconsistincies or errors are all mine. enjoy! xx

The first time you had met him, he held a gun to your forehead and asked if you had seen a woman by the name of Barb. He remembered the way you looked, wide eyed like a doe in the headlights of a truck, your pretty blue jumpsuit stained with blood that neither of you were sure was yours.

He didn’t see you for another decade after that fateful meeting, and when he did, you looked the exact same.

This time, the second time he met you, he stared at you from across the streets of Filly, eyes low beneath the brim of his hat. When you walked up to him, he wondered aloud: What kind of moisturizer are they keepin’ down in them vaults? You had smiled at his comment, and offered to buy him dinner with a bag full of caps.

After that, another ten years passed.

Cooper wasn’t one hundred percent sure where you would go, but he knew each time, the years between dripped slow like molasses. He had met you on ten different occasions, and on those ten different occasions, you disappeared for a decade and came back to him looking the same. He wasn’t sure how you did it, but his curiosity fueled part of his survival, and each time he would ask you questions, they were all cleverly designed as off handed remarks or old Southern quips.

He watched you, like a predator stalking their prey, pupils blown black like stones of onyx. The Ghoul was always waiting, watching, listening with intent, perked ears ready for you to slip up and feed him slivers of the information he so desperately craved. Yet, despite his approaches, you gave him nothing, not even a dry bone that he could nibble at.

It was almost like you knew what he was trying to do.

After hunting you for so long, wondering where you would disappear away to, he had become consumed with the thought of knowing you to completion. He was viciously enamored with the idea of learning your secrets, and would look for years on end for you like a feral dog sniffing out carrion.

Cooper wanted to pick you apart, he wanted to take your organs out, feel your heart beating- he wanted to know you, inside and out, in the most macabre and consuming of ways. He wanted to bloody his knuckles with your viscera, feel it dripping down his throat like nectar. He wanted to know what you tasted like, what all of you tasted like, what your neck felt like beneath his teeth.

For Cooper Howard, you had become his guiding light in this Wasteland. When the nights grew lonelier, when the settling weight of reality crushed down on his chest and he began to wonder if he could ever find his family again, your eyes would flash into his mind. He would become ignited with desire, a desire he had not felt for many, many years.

A desire that, truth be told, scared him.

For many years you were his stars- the very light which guided him in an otherwise dark and uninspired world.

He had ten years to ruminate on the aforementioned facts, and the next time you saw him, everything was completely different.

Today, the sun was beating down hotter than usual. The sand beneath the soles of your worn boots sizzled like the embers of a fire. In the distance, a swarm of vultures were cawing, picking apart the bones of those who did not make it.

It had been so long since you were inside your vault.

“You continue to fail us.” The council’s words were at the forefront of your mind, loud and clear. “Again and again we put our trust in you, and again and again, you fail. Your mission was clear. This go around, you’ve failed for the last time. Your crime befits the worst of all punishments: permanent banishment to the surface.”

It had been so long. So many decades had come, so many decades had passed. The years were convoluted, more theory than memory at this point. Who you were, who you used to be- none of it mattered.

None of it mattered, especially not now. You could hardly remember what the vault rations tasted like, you could hardly remember what the television static sounded like. But if there was one thing you could remember, it was your favorite movie.

“There’s an old Mexican eulogy. Feo feurte y formal. Means he was ugly, strong, and had dignity. Well, Joey… I’ll give you two out of three on that front.” You whispered the lines to yourself over and over again, twirling your imaginary gun and shooting at no one in particular.

With a heaving sigh, you leaned yourself up against an old, worn stack of car tires, looking out at the barren desert. The heat was radiating off of old sheets of metal and forgotten car hoods, useless puddles of radioactive water sizzling with diseases you had probably never heard of before.

For the first time in a long time, you felt completely helpless. The Ghoul was nowhere to be found, the Vaults had completely shut you out, and the only other people you had met on the Wasteland wanted to fuck, kill, or eat you.

“Feo feurte y formal.” You muttered, again and again, until you crashed beneath a barren tree, face first in the sand. You laid there until you felt your face burning red hot, pulling away to cough up whatever grains had managed to make their way into your mouth.

“Water.” You whispered, your fingers digging deep into the sand. You remembered a documentary you had watched, before all of this, that showed a man digging into the sand to hit water. Perhaps that’s what you could do. You began digging with what little strength remained of you, and soon tears began picking at your eyes the deeper you got, the realization that you would die in the barren wasteland heavy on your shoulders.

“Fuck.” You whined, grabbing a fistful of sand and chucking it. “Fuck!”

There were footsteps behind you, a familiarity to the sound of the boots they wore. You didn’t care. If they wanted to kill you, so be it. You would die anyway, your fate had already been signed and sealed.

You pulled your dirty hands out of the well you had made, fruitlessly at that, leaning your forehead against the trunk of the cracking tree.

“If you’ve come to rob me, I have nothing.” Your voice surprised you. Bitter, rough- completely different than your usual cadence. With each passing day, your vaultie lifestyle seeped from your bones, and you knew it was futile to nurse it back- it was gone for good, never to return.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?”

Oh.

Oh.

That voice.

Your eyes fluttered shut, the golden warmth of familiarity draping over your body. For the first time in what felt like forever, you smiled.

“Cooper Howard.” You whispered, tracing a line with your nail down the chipping bark.

“It’s been a while, sugar. Turn around, give me somethin’ pretty to look at.”

A hoarse laugh escaped you, and you shook your head. A stray piece of hair fell from where you had it tied back, and you pushed it behind your ear, using all your might to stand back to your feet. Everything hurt, everything ached. You had never felt like this before, and it scared you.

“Not this time, I’m afraid.”

You turned around, meeting his gaze. His face stood unwavering, and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. A sly, arrogant, perfect smile.

“The fountain of youth dry up or somethin’, pumpkin?”

It had been twenty years since the first bombs had dropped. And you, asleep in your metallic cocoon, were blissfully unaware of this. You were told by your boss, Barb, to take a pill and climb in to the bed, that your slumber would take you to the future, that you were special, and had a bright journey ahead of you.

Her smooth talking did wonders, and you had no qualms with her request.

As one of the up and coming employees of vault-tec, you had proven yourself as a worthy, intelligent, integral member for their plans.

The end of the world was an incredibly easy thing to profit from, and you were going to be sent every decade on a mission to see the effects of radiation, the way the surface dwellers mingled, and you were to report back any unusual finds.

Today was your first day out of the vaults. Your very first mission.

Bright eyed and full of hope, you stepped out of the vault with a pack of supplies and a shining smile. You had been jaded by the company you worked for, and with a mind sweetly rotted by their ideas and promises, you knew you would do anything for them, for their agenda.

It was on this trip you met him for the first time. Cooper Howard. Hollywood star, your favorite actor, and the crowning jewel of vault-tec commercials. How could you not recognize him? Despite wanting to run up to him and ask him your laundry list of questions, such as: Why aren’t you down in the vaults? What’s happening with your skin? Where’s Sugarfoot? You kept your lips sealed and followed the main rule of your mission: Give nothing away.

The air was hotter than anything you had ever felt before. It covered you like an unwanted blanket, and left you dampened in a sheen of your own sweat, dripping down your temples with every step you took.

In the distance, you heard the hustle and bustle of a settlement, the first you had ever seen, and with a newfound smile, made your way over.

It was dingy and crumbling, constructed by crates and boxes, various vendors lining the foul smelling streets. The stench of shit and burning food filled your nostrils, and the crowded lanes filled you with a sense of claustrophobia you had never experienced before. And for a Vaultie, well…. that was saying something!

“I got fried roach over here! Fried roach! Ma’am, may I interest you in some fried roach?”

“Dog meat! Come get your dog meat! Fresh off the grill!”

“We’ll give you caps for junk. Did you hear me folks? Caps for junk!”

You ignored the vendors trying to sell you things that you would never, ever, buy in a million years, attempting to ignore their calls and shouts. You kept note of everything on your pip-boy, trying your hardest to hide it from wandering eyes. In the distance you saw a parcel of land that wasn’t crowded, and quickly made your way over, happy to have some respite from the chaos.

Resting on a chair was a darkened figure, their face hidden by the brim of a low cowboy hat, worn and dusted. A pair of large hands, the backsides beginning to slowly pull apart to make way for rough, ugly patches of toughened flesh, were whittling the tip of a stick.

“Excuse me?” You called out softly, hesitant to step forward.

“Better go on and get out of here, girl.” His voice was low and familiar, and your stomach tightened at his tone.

“Um…. I just…. I have some questions I want to ask-” You stumbled over your words as you struggled to get your sleeve off of your pip-boy, wanting to document the man.

His eyes, beneath the brim of his hat, noticed the device around your wrist, and in record time he had you pressed to the ground with a gun to your forehead. In this position you saw his face, and your eyes widened with the realization of who it was.

“What… what are you- what are you turning in to?” You couldn’t stop the question from rumbling from your mouth, eyes wide with horror or awe, you weren’t quite sure. His gun to your forehead was an afterthought, your eyes entranced by his new appearance.

There he was. Cooper Howard. The silver tongued, gun slingin’ cowboy from your favorite films, now a victim to this haunting wasteland. His skin was slowly pulling apart, his upper lip scarred with the color of burnt umber. His beautiful eyes, those dark orbs of hazel, were becoming hollowed with sunken sockets, and his nostrils were chipping away. And yet, despite it all, he was still Cooper, not yet gone.

He ignored your question, speaking through bared teeth. “Have you seen a woman named Barb? Do you know where she is?”

Of course you did. She was your boss, she had been enclosed right beside your capsule, peacefully asleep with her darling Janey beside her. But you had signed your rights away, your life now belonging to Vault-Tec and the mission they had given you. You wanted to tell him, you really did. But you had a duty to your employer.

Despite your inner morals begging you to tell him the truth, you quickly shook your head. “N-no. I don’t know who that is.” You whispered, gulping thickly.

Cooper’s eyes flashed with an image of guilt, and he released you, pulling you up as he stood back on his feet. “I’m sorry. I’m…. losing my mind in this world. I didn’t mean you no harm, miss.” He dusted his hands off on his pants, scratching at the back of his neck.

He opened his mouth, offering you a branch of kindness. “You need some water, little lady?”

"-No, no, no. That ain't no answer, princess. You know better than that." He was dangling the flask above your head, a shit eating grin stretched across his mouth.

The Ghoul towered over the space where your body had collapsed upon, your knees imprinting with the gravel and sand beneath you, prickling at your skin and leaving deep indents. You looked up at him, eyes pleading, as his gloved fingers grabbed ahold of your chin.

The position was almost erotic. Perhaps it was.

"Now, I'm gonna ask you one more time. Or else I'm going to pour all this water out and make you lap it up like a dog. Got it?"

You groaned in annoyance, nonetheless nodding.

"Damn, Coop. I thought we were friends."

"We are." He responded, a Cheshire cat smile illuminating his features. "I wouldn't give anyone else a chance as good as this one, little lady."

You scoffed out, a deep sigh rattling your body. "Fine. Fine!" You tossed your arms up in a final act of resignation,

"Good girl." He pat your cheek, crouching down to your level.

"Now, why are you aging all of the sudden?"

You stared into his sunken eyes, searching his irises for any sort of emotion. He remained steadfast, his fingers gripping tighter into your flesh.

"Need me to countdown for you?"

"God Dammit Howard, no, I don't need you to countdown for me. I'm not a child." You scoffed, chewing on the inside of your cheek. "Fine. I... no longer have access to the.... thing that made me stay young."

"Thanks for the detailed answer." Cooper scoffed, tilting the head of the water bottle towards the ground. A stream of water fell from the tip, and you cried out in annoyance.

"Fine! Fine, Coop! I got fired from my job as a researcher for the Vaults and they kicked me out and now I can't sleep in my pod for ten years anymore!" You shouted in one breath, causing Cooper to laugh in pleasure at your outburst.

"Alright, alright. Here you go." He handed you the bottle and you took it with both hands, chugging at that sweet, sweet water until you were sure you were going to drown.

He snatched it away from you, leaving you hanging.

"Who else is in the pods?"

"People important to Vault-Tec." You muttered. "But, I-I don't know where they keep everyone." You explained, blinking up at him through heavy lashes. "Honest." You lied straight through your teeth, and Cooper sighed, running a hand down the back of your head.

"Alright girl. Go on and get up." He grabbed your hand, helping you to your feet. He started walking, and you called out to him.

"Can I come with you?"

"Unless you want to just sit there and die!"

You chased after him, grabbing ahold of his harm. "You walk too fast, hey- stop it, you're walking too fast. Chill out for a second."

"Fuckin' vaulties." He grumbled, and you couldn't help but let out a breathless laugh.

By the end of the night, you two had pitched a camp in an abandoned store, a fire crackling in the little room you had made yourselves comfortable in.

"Got some wrinkles now, you know." Cooper pointed at the corner of your eyes with his knife, whittling a stick he had found on the way in. A sense of familiarity rushed over you at the scene, and your meeting many moons ago filled your mind. You couldn't help but grin, before scoffing at his comment.

"I'm not elderly. I'm only-"

He cut you off. "Don't care how old you are, darlin'. Just tellin' you like it is." Cooper shot you a wink.

You took in a deep breath, sucking in your cheeks as you drew shapes into the dirt you were sat upon. "So... what have you been up to out here?"

The Ghoul scoffed. "Tryin' to make small talk?"

"Um... I don't know what else to do."

"We can sit in silence."

"Fine."

"Or..." He began, looking up at you with a smirk. Cooper dropped his knife and the piece of wood, shuffling towards you until your shoulders were touching.

Your breath hitched in the back of your throat, his ungloved fingertips tracing over the side of your eyes.

"Or what?" You asked quietly, barely able to take in a breath.

He had a devilish gleam in his eye, and you knew something was stirring around in those thoughts of his. He leaned forward, his forehead nearly pressing in to your own, and traced over every feature of your face.

"Or we could sit here and talk about all those damn wrinkles."

"Shut up!" You snapped, pushing him away. He laughed to himself, tickled he got you, and sighed out in contentment. You looked at him, and a smile broke out on your face.

"I'm just jokin'. You ain't even that old." He slapped his knee through his giggles, laying back on the ground with his arms behind his head.

You stared at him, scooting closer to his body as his eyes fluttered shut. For a few moments you weighed your possibilities, before damning them all to Hell and crawling into the alcove of his body.

He didn't stop you. He let you rest your head on his shoulder, and soon a limp arm fell across your waist. When you looked up he was glancing down at you, eyes heavy with the promise of sleep.

"It's good seein' you again."

You nodded. "Yeah."

"Yeah." He confirmed.

You stared up at the ceiling of the collapsing roof, a stream of moonlight beating through a wide crack. It seemed as though all of the stars were out tonight, silver and sparkling, like millions of diamonds stuck in the sky.

The sky was what you looked forward to the most each time you left the vault. You didn't have views like that down beneath the ground.

"Pretty, ain't it?"

You nodded.

Cooper nodded beside you, his fingers tracing shapes into your side. You felt his gaze upon your body, and when you turned to him, you realized how close you two were. If he had a nose, it would have been pressed right in to yours. The thought made you grin.

He looked at you as though you were an entirely new being, a new thing he had never laid eyes on. You shuddered when his hand grazed your cheek, finding a resting spot against your face as his warm thumb drew circles into your skin.

The Ghoul cleared his throat, his brow ridge furrowing as he tilted his head.

"What?" You asked quietly, blinking away your confusion.

"You're just... hmm." He tutted his tongue against the roof of his mouth, as though he were weighing out what he should say next. "You're just beautiful."

"What?"

"Do y'all not get your ears checked down there? Damn."

"Sorry. I'm just... I- that was not what I was expecting you to say."

"I can be nice."

"There's a first for everything." You murmured.

"I love firsts." Cooper breathed out, his breath hot against your face. He smelled like aged leather and gunpowder, and it was intoxicating.

Your lips were so close, almost touching, and you swallowed a thick gulp that had lodged itself into your throat.

"I do, too." You whispered.

"Thanks for the confirmation-"

"Shut up." You closed the gap between your mouths, lips melting in to his own as you kissed him. It was a frenzied kiss that had been brewing for hundreds of years, a kiss that tethered your soul to his, a kiss that was more intimate than any sort of sex you had had within your lifetime.

A kiss shared between two creatures with an unspeakable, perhaps even unbreakable, bond.

Cooper held you close to him, dragging you on top of him until you were straddling his waist, one palm flat against your back while the other held your neck, holding you close to his face.

His tongue swirled against your own, a hungry grunt escaping from the back of your throat as he explored you, his tongue pushing so far in to your mouth that you wondered if he was trying to taste your heart.

"You're delicious." Cooper whispered into your mouth, his fingers knotting in to your hair and tugging you down until your cheeks were squished together, so close and tight together that you were worried your bones might break.

Cooper was a hungry man. He was starved. Ravenous for your body, your taste, your touch.

"Take this fuckin' thing off." He ordered, tugging at the zipper of your suit. You obeyed without hesitation, standing up to kick it off. "No underwear? Naughty."

"I let it breathe." You joked with a shrug of your shoulders, returning to sit on his lap.

"No, no. Here." He demanded, and you watched as his finger pointed to his face.

Your stomach erupted with butterflies as you blinked rapidly, your bottom lip catching between your teeth.

"Ain't got all century, princess. Hurry on up."

With a breathless laugh you climbed over him, slowly lowering yourself down until you were practically straddling his face like a saddle, your hands cupping the sides of his head as you positioned yourself.

A moan left you as his tongue licked a strip up your pussy, the tip of his muscle dipping in and out of your slick folds.

"All for me?" He hummed against you, his hands holding your ass, massaging your flesh with his calloused touch.

"Always." You whimpered, grinding yourself down upon his mouth.

Cooper pulled his tongue away from your lips, moving to focus on your clit. Oh, he had been waiting for this. He had been craving this. For what felt like millions of years, all Cooper wanted to know was what you tasted like. He wanted to pull you apart in the most intimate of ways, he wanted to dive deep within you, deeper than anyone else had ever dared to go before. If he could, he would take you to the height of pleasure, he would introduce you to pleasures only he knew of.

The Ghoul would have given you the world if you asked, and he knew how foolish he was for it, how stupid he was.

The one woman who had let his guard down, the one thing he let enter in to him after all these years in the middle of nothingness, in this wasteland of ash and bone.

Your cry of pleasure knocked him out of his thoughts, and he became aware of his motions, of his tongue lapping at your sweet cunt, soaking your taste up like a sponge. Your arousal was dripping on his cheeks, smearing across his chin. He would drown in you if you could, and he would die a happy, well fed man.

"Fuck, Coop."

Coop.

The only person in the world he allowed to call him that anymore, the only person left alive who knew of who he was, what his mission was, what journey he had found himself on.

In you, he had found a companion, a confidant. He trusted you with his life.

Oh, if only he knew the secret you were harboring, the guilt that sometimes became so unbearable you felt as though you were suffocating. If he did, he probably wouldn't be doing this.

"C'mon girl, soak my face." He rubbed his face deeper between your thighs, lips sucking on your clit like a mad man.

You grinded yourself against him, head thrown back in pure euphoria. "Right there, right there, right there." You chanted his name like a song, a promise, a prayer. In this moment he was everything to you. You were both wrapped up in the same red spool of fate, and it had bound you together like tar and feather.

When your orgasm finally washed through you, he shoved his tongue deep within you, lapping up every drip of your cum. He moaned in to you, his fingers digging deeper into the cheeks of your ass as he brought you down further on to him, so tight he could hardly breathe.

"Fuckin'-" The rest of his words were muffled into your cunt, and you shakily pushed his head away, letting out a huff of air.

"Jesus." You fell down beside him, staring up at the sky once more. His hand fell to your thigh, his rippled flesh dragging up and down your soft, supple skin. It was an unorthodox dichotomy, but one you welcomed

He pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder, pulling you closer when he saw you shiver.

"You're the only person out here I give a flyin' fuck about." He confessed quietly, deeply, his voice barely audible.

"I know." You muttered, your cheek pressing into his own. He held you close, his touch warm and welcoming, foreign and new. Your own fingers traced shapes down his clothed chest.

It was an odd sort of intimacy that you had never expected from him, and in that moment you realized that beneath this monster, there was still a man. A man who was touch starved, a man who used to be a little boy who played outside on tire swings and kissed his mamma, a man who had a family, a man who had morals and dreams and laughed at dinner parties and smoked cigars. The Ghoul wasn't a ghoul at all.... he was still a man. He had always been a man.

It was a realization that had just overtaken you, a realization you had never pondered before.

You looked up at him, your hand resting on his scarred cheek. He placed his palm over your knuckles, and you stared at one another, an unusual feeling lingering in the air.

"Wanna fuck?" He finally spoke, and your stomach tensed at his words.

"Please." You breathed out, eyes fluttering shut.

It was the fourth time you had met him.

It had been sixty years since the bombs had dropped. Or had it been Eighty? Perhaps even one hundred?

As you walked, your head spun. You weren't too sure how long you were asleep this time, everything felt different.

Once Bud, in his stupid little brain jar, had caught whiff that you had met the Cooper Howard, now turned in to a radioactive ghoul, he had changed your mission.

"Now, new order of business. He's your main priority. Find him, bring him to us. He'll be a valuable asset in divulging the secrets of the surface." You remember the cheerful voice beckoning you forth on your quest. You remember how constricted your chest felt when you got the news, how horrified you were.

It felt like a curse, like a demotion.

You had already been lying to the Ghoul about not knowing Barb. Now you had to hunt him? Abduct him?

Ha! As if you ever could. Cooper was always three steps ahead of everyone else. He was cool, collected, and could sweet talk (or shoot) his way out of any situation. You had watched him blow people’s limbs off, kill gangs of raiders, take down monsters- you had watched this man destroy, maim, kill.

Compared to him, you paled in comparison. He was a formidable foe, and a respected ally.

You knew you couldn’t follow through with the mission.

So you didn’t. And you didn't for sixty more years.

When you met the Ghoul this time, he was skinning some animal, plucking his teeth with a piece of bone. Every so often he would pinch something out of the carcass, tossing it in his mouth and swallowing.

"Is this what you do now? Eat animals raw?" You asked, walking towards him. You felt queasy at the scene, the plight of surface dwellers unknown to your very different, very sterile lifestyle.

"I knew you'd be showin' up soon." The Ghoul drawled out slowly, almost sweetly, eyeing you with a glimmer in his eye.

"Oh yeah?" You purred, your boots clicking against the hard ground.

"Could smell ya."

"What do I smell like?"

He sucked in a rush of air through his teeth, looking up from behind the brim of his hat with dark, distant eyes. "Sugar."

You smiled, stopping in front of him. "Is that so?"

"Mhm." Cooper dragged his tongue across his teeth as he looked up at you, a hungry tint coloring his eyes. He looked as though he wanted to devour you. A dribble of blood trickled down beside the corner of his lip, and you watched him scoop it up, pressing it to his tongue.

He shot you a wink, beckoning you forward with a finger, his gaze steadfast and unwavering.

The look he gave you was engrained into your mind as you parted ways, and while you slumbered in your metallic grave, the Ghoul visited your dreams, over and over, until you woke up ten years later with the sweet taste of his words on your tongue, and the sound of his voice ringing in your ears.

It was eighty years since the first bombs had dropped, and your naked back was pressed against the dirt, hair tangled around the rocks and twigs that were scattered about. You had a fistful of mud from grasping at nothing, pleasure coursing through your body like alcohol at a party.

A drop of sweat was forming beside his brow, the languid sound of flesh on flesh filling the air. It trickled down his cheek, landing on your own.

"Fuckin' shit." His teeth bit down into your shoulder, fingertips digging into your thighs as he held you tight against him. "Can't believe we waited this long."

"Jesus Christ, Coop." You gasped, back arching off the ground. "Right there."

His cock, thick and long and perfect, was buried deep within you, your pussy tightening around his shaft with every thrust he made.

Coop pressed his forehead against your, his tongue pressing against your lips. You parted them, allowing access to your mouth. He happily obliged, his tongue mingling with your spit. He growled like an animal, pulling away to grab your face in his hands.

"Open." He snarled, lip raising as he watched you intently.

"Yes sir." You happily obeyed, your lips parting. You watched him purse his lips, a string of spit falling onto your tongue.

"Good girl. Good girl." He purred, holding up your thighs as he fucked himself in to you.

"For you." You whined, palms dragging down his chest.

"Yeah, that's right, darlin'. Just for me." The Ghoul was snarling through gritted teeth, his fingers imprinting deeply into your skin, nails nearly breaking skin.

Always for him. Of course it was. Of course you were.

It was the reason why you couldn't betray him to Bud. It was the reason why you couldn't shoot him, drag him down to the vault.

It was the reason why you had sought after him each time you left your pod. It was the reason why you crossed the wasteland just for the chance to see him.

Because you loved him.

The night air was cold on your naked body, and your arms wrapped around your torso did little to ease the nipping pain.

The sky wasn't as starry as usual, a dark, barren canopy hanging above your head. The fire in front of you was dying, and the moon looked more gray than silver.

You knew what you must do. You knew what was required of you, a mission of your own.

It had been two years since you were kicked out of the vault. Two years since you felt as though your world was ending.

Now tonight might be the night it actually did.

You heard the clack of his boots against the ground, the heavy sigh that heaved off of him with each step he took. His hand brushed against your shoulder as he walked towards the fire, collapsing tot he ground in front of you.

"What a fuckin' day." The Ghoul groaned, tossing a skinned rabbit onto the dying flames. He dug through his bag and lit a match, tossing it onto the embers. A new flame sparked to life, illuminating his face with colors of peach and umber.

With a little nod you returned to your thoughts, blinking slowly.

"Clothes still dryin'?"

"Yeah. Takes forever."

"Tellin' me. Remember that time those dogs tried attackin' us, and we were both butt fuck naked?" He pondered the memory with a snigger, and you couldn't help but laugh, your stomach tumbling as your guilt grew heavier and heavier, twisting and gnawing at your intestines.

He dug through his pack, grabbing a spare vial and inhaling it deeply. "Want a hit?"

You blinked, considering it for a moment.

"I'm okay."

"That's alright, darlin'." He shot you a wink, tossing the empty contained behind his shoulder. "So," Cooper began, stretching out, "what've you been up to since I've been gone?"

"Oh, little bit of this, little bit of that."

"Sounds excitin'." His eyes were narrowed, and you knew he could smell that there was something off about you.

Your tongue dragged across your lower lip, and you took in a deep breath. "Coop, I gotta tell you somethin'."

He looked up from where he was picking his nails, clearing his throat with a furrowed brow. "Okay..."

"I- before all of this.... I-I knew your wife."

Cooper scoffed. "Uh, yeah. I put those two pieces together myself, darlin'."

"Oh."

"Pretty self explanatory. Vaultie appears and disappears, says she's on Vault-Tec business. Come on now, don't take me for a fool."

"I-... alright."

"Anythin' else, sugar?"

"Yes."

"What are you goin' to tell me this time that I supposedly don't know?" He laughed at his own joke, his eyes lit with the flames of the fire, burning a soul straight through you.

"I-" You couldn't stop the tears from welling in your eyes.

In one moment, a hundred years of guilt came crashing down, racking through your body and rocking your soul like plane turbulence. You gasped out quietly, and Cooper quickly rushed to your side.

"Breathe in, come on now." He patted your back gingerly, and your eyes widened in panic.

"Don't touch me! Please. You- after this... oh, God."

With an inquisitive look he pulled away, his palm barely lingering over your shoulder. You watched his jaw clench, lip pulling up with the hint of a scowl.

You turned to him, ripping the band-aid off. "I know where your family is."

His features fell, lips parting. For the first time in a long time, the Ghoul was unable to speak. Nothing came to mind as his brain short circuited with this information, his face soon wrinkling up with the realization that you had betrayed him.

"You-..." Cooper stumbled to his feet and you did the same, eyeing the gun that laid on the ground. He followed your gaze, spitting in your direction. "You fuckin' lyin' bitch. For how long?" He demanded, walking towards you.

"Don't make me-"

Cooper grabbed your shoulders, his nails digging into your bones. "For. How. Long?"

You closed your eyes, composing yourself best you could before you looked up at him. "One hundred years."

He tackled you to the ground, hands going straight for your neck as he cried out in pure rage. You kneed him against the stomach in defense, earning a gruff oof from the man.

"Tell me why I shouldn't fuckin' kill you right now!" He snarled through bared teeth, eyes nearly red and ears nearly steaming. You had never seen a man look so angry before, you had never seen him look like this... especially towards you.

"Because I love you! I love you, Cooper. Let go!" You choked out, thrashing beneath him.

"You love me?"

"Yes, you fucking baboon. Now get off of me!" You bundled your hand into a fist, landing it right into his jaw.

Cooper coughed, blood pooling at his mouth, and quickly hopped off of you. He stood, staring at you, watching the shadows of the evening dance across your bare body. There was once a time he would have thought the scene in front of him was delicious, there was once a time he would have pounced on you, taken you right on the ground, made you moan his name and orgasm all night long.

That was no more, and it would never be again.

"Tell me where they are." His voice was low, like a warning growl from a wolf.

"Vault thirty-one."

He gritted his teeth together, spitting a puddle of blood out onto the ground.

"I love you. Loved." He corrected himself quickly, eyeing you down, sizing you up. "That's why I won't kill you."

"Oh. Oh... thank you. I really didn't want it to come to that."

"Yeah, me neither." His voice was flat, defeated. Part of you wished he would kill you.

You watched him walk towards his backpack, slinging it across his shoulder. Cooper pointed towards you, eyes narrowing. "But mark my fuckin' words, girl- if I ever see you again, I will kill you."

"Wait-"

"No." He held out his palm, grabbing his shotgun. "No more. No."

"I didn't want to keep it from you-"

"But you did, didn't you?"

And it was true. He was right. There was nothing you could do, no word you could speak, action you could partake in, that would make any of this better.

You watched Cooper walk away, the end of his coat swaying in the wind with each step he took. When you looked back up at the sky, you could have sworn you saw his eyes written throughout the stars, and you knew those eyes would haunt you, until the day you died.

And so you sat before the fire, watching the carcass of whatever he had hunted sizzling to a burnt ember, watching the last remnants of his presence in your life fade away, little by little, until it was nothing but dust.

You must have stayed in that spot for weeks. Ruminating, thinking, dreaming.

The sound of boots clicking behind you finally snapped you back in to reality.

#cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #cooper howard x female reader #cooper howard x y/n #fallout show #fallout fanfiction #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #the ghoul x y/n #the ghoul angst #the ghoul smut #cooper howard angst #cooper howard smut #studioghibelli #fallout smut #cooper howard fanfiction #the ghoul fanfiction #angst with no happy ending #angst with no comfort #angst #smut #fallout fanfic #fallout tv series #fallout prime #fallout series #fallout tv show #fallout tv

[justanotherfanfolks]

Book 4: *exists*

Me: Talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, showstopping, spectacular-

#twisted wonderland #twst #kalim al asim #jamil viper #azul ashrengrotto #jade leech #floyd leech #twst grim #twst yuu #ace trappola #deuce spade #you know if it wasn’t for the Ramshackle ghosts Book 5 would’ve been about someone overblotting over cold temperatures #obsessed with Jamil showing his true colors and Azul going 'omg can we be friends?' #i love this book SO much! #like Jamil- #sir was everything his plotting was everything #azul's counter plan was everything #the kalim/jamil conflict was top tier #Azul and Jamil have my favorite current/previous overblotter dynamic #oh my gosh I am so obsessed with this book the climax went so hard #I wish I could capture how great this book was in memes #this is the book that made me get into TWST i will go on a tangent over how much I love it! #oh also me freaking out seeing Epel at the end there #that's my OG boy right there! #memes #twst memes

[miraluking-respectfully]

man while i'm on my felix kick it fucking sucks that they keep not knowing what the FUCK to do with this character when he's actually very strongly characterized. i went off about this last night but like, underutilized aspect of felix: he's like, a really good leader?? and i'm not talking an uber-inspiring protagonist-type leader like the PC; i'm talking an extremely functional organizer of people that you especially need in a military context. it's kind of hard to clock at first if you're not paying attention, especially because you're introduced to him while he's desperately trying to stave off a mutiny; but considering he's on a shithole iceball with a group of restless 18-to-25-year-old recruits who, as far as they're concerned, are trying to kill an immortal enemy, the fact that only one of them winds up ultimately raising a hand against him is impressive. he boosts morale, he makes good tactical calls on his own while not being too proud to take assistance, he metes out swift discipline without being needlessly punitive. and when the squad splits up, people keep in touch with him!!!

like, felix is extremely good at his job, and that aspect of him kind of deepens the tragedy of his permanent stagnation in rank when you compare him to other soldier comps like Rusk or even early-game Jorgan. i'm not a fan of fictional or real militaries but this character's skillset as an officer has been a repeatedly underutilized resource narratively & it makes me want to eat glass

#felix iresso #jedi consular #visions that manifest to me after watching & rewatching the consular hoth story multiple nights in a row to help me fall asleep. #@swtor writers if you're gonna recycle felix plot points try recycling the one where he's expertly wrangling a flock of scared morons w gun #instead of the one where he *checks notes* gets physically & psychologically tortured. thankyou<3 #while i've got you here: did you know his VA Dion Graham is a fucking former Broadway actor and -prolific- audiobook narrator??? #he's got like 84 fucking awards for the quality of his narration #he's narrated a ton of literature and specifically a lot by black authors #there's this fantasy novel he narrated called Black Leopard Red Wolf by Marlon James that looks really fucking good #OH AND HE WAS ON THE FUCKING WIRE FOR 8 EPISODES?? #looking at this man's career it feels extra awful to me that they gave him NOTHING. #and he still kept coming back to the booth. not just for Felix but background roles in Onslaught as well. #GOD. #Mr Graham sir thank you for everything i'm so sorry they're taking you for granted like this

[sugume]

LESSONS IN CORRUPTION w/Gojo Satoru

IN WHICH: Your teacher finally has his way with you at the end of senior year

( TW ): fem!Reader, dark & explicit content, mean and manipulative teacher!Gojo, Porn w/ no plot, corruption kink, power dynamics, virgin!reader, unprotected sex, cream pie, size difference, breeding kink, blood, fingering, age gap (reader is 19, Gojo late 20's), Gojo secretly records, half edited

Word count - › 1.6K

“You know I love you right?” Satoru asks, cupping your face. 

“I love you too.” You smile up at him as he fingers your pussy. 

“Loved you ever since I laid eyes on you—ever since you walked in my class with that short skirt and those white knee-high socks. My innocent schoolgirl.” He leans down to kiss you on the rose-covered hotel bed.  

It was your graduation party last week, but he said couldn’t make it to your party at your parent’s house, said he had an important meeting, and RSVP no to your parents’ invitation but when you asked them, they looked at you incredulously and asked why they’d send invitations to your teachers. When you went to school for your last week and told this to Gojo he said he did get an invitation and your parents told you that so you wouldn’t get upset that he couldn’t make it. 

—

“Gotta surprise for you though.” Gojo smiles up at you from his chair. You’re sitting on his desk, feet resting on the armrest of your teacher’s chair. Gojo can see your panty-clad pussy from his position under you, but he doesn’t say anything. He knows you’d be embarrassed if you knew he could see your Hello Kitty panties.  

“Really? What is it is!” You set your salad down so he could have your full attention, you know he doesn’t like it when you focus on anything else--even if it’s something as simple as food. You think it’s romantic how much he needs your full attention. 

“Well since I couldn’t come to your party, I figured I should throw you another party, this time just us. It could be our special party.” 

“Oh my god, really?” You throw yourself in his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. His cologne engulfs you. 

“Mhm, and guess what? It’s gonna be a sleepover party at that new fancy hotel that just opened downtown. You excited Princess?” Gojo wraps his arms around your waist, discreetly rubbing his semi on your pussy. 

“Super-duper excited! When is it? Please say soon!” You cheer, innocently bouncing in his lap. Your pussy clenching when you feel his cock rub down the length of your damped cunt. You hope he doesn’t notice. 

“This weekend schoolgirl, your parents approved n’ everything.” He informs you, holding you down on his now rock-solid cock.  

He couldn’t wait for this weekend.  

“Really?” 

“Really, but they told me they want you to tell them you’re staying at your best friend’s house,” you open your mouth to question why but his grip on your waist tightens and he looks down at you angrily. “Don’t question us y/n, you know your parents and I know what we’re doing. Were the adults, you’re just a child, understand?” 

“Yes, Sir.” You nod, not wanting to upset him when he’s always so good to you.  

“Good girl, now finish your lunch sweetheart—no stay on my lap I make sure you eat it right.” 

—

Gojo glances at the nightstand, ensuring his phone is set up before he looks back at you. Rose petals underneath, nipples puckered, and eyes crossed you look like an angel. His angel. 

“Sir! I-it feels weird down there—I think I gotta pee.” Your pussy clenches around his fingers. 

“Just let it happen, princess,” He curls his fingers into your g-spot, his other hand going to rub your clit. Your legs start to shake, and you try to clamp them shut but Satoru’s thighs keep them in place. “Don't—That’s it, let go, let it happen.” 

You never knew what it was like to orgasm, Satoru has only told you what it would be like, but this—this—you could get used to the way your pussy contracts on your teacher’s fingers and your mind goes blank. 

Your hands fly down to his wrists once it’s over, suddenly overwhelmed. 

“S’too much ‘Toru, please no more!” You cry out, another mini orgasm washing over you.  

“Gotta prep you—get you wet enough for my cock sweet girl,” he takes his fingers out of your cunt, and your juices following in suit. “Think you’re ready?” 

“Mhm.” You look up at him like he hung the moon and stars. Right now, if he told you he did—you’d believe him. 

He brings his wet fingers to your mouth, and instinctively you open your mouth. He shoves them in. 

“Can’t wait to see this small pussy take a dick too big, too old for ‘er.” He groans at the thought, pulling his now clean fingers out of your mouth to pull his boxers off.  

You gasp when you see it jump out. It’s huge, the tip is an angry shade of red, and his balls look ready to explode any second. You don’t think with all the prep in the world you could take it. 

“It’s too big, Sir.” you whimper, shyly backing away from him.  

“Don’t run away from me y/n, how many lessons does it take for you to get ‘Don’t question your elders’ through that little brain of yours,” he pulls you back, slapping your pussy. “C’mon now, didn’t you say you loved me?” He pouts, looking down at you with puppy eyes. Your heart clenches. 

“Course I love you—I can take it. I promise.” You grab his face, the one you’ve spent the last semester admiring from afar, and kiss him the way he taught you. 

“Yea?” 

“Mhm.” You lay back down and wrap your legs around his hips. 

He grabs his cock, the head soaked with your juices, and slowly pushes it in. You gasp from the sudden intrusion. His fingers did nothing to prepare you for his girthy cock. He pulls out again before pushing in, this time a few more inches. He repeats this movement until you're filled to the brim. He looks down and chuckles. Only two-thirds of his cock is in your too-small pussy. Blood trickles out the side of your pussy. 

“Hurts.” You cry. He looks up to see thick tears flowing down your cheeks. 

He thinks about comforting you, but he can’t get his mind off your tight pussy. He’s too worried about not cumming prematurely than comforting you.  

“Shh, it’ll feel better soon honey, just lay there and take it.” He starts to move in and out of your cunt. Using your blood as extra lube. 

You claw at his back from the overwhelming feeling of your pussy being stretched. Satoru grunts above you, sucking hickeys all over your breast. After the ninth thrust, you start to moan, the pain quickly turning into pleasure. 

“Sir! Feels s’good.” You moan.  

“Your cunt feels surreal princess, never felt anything like this, think I might need to fuck my students more.” He says into your neck, speeding up when his balls start to clench and ache with the need to release. 

Suddenly, you’re overcome with a surge of jealousy, the thought of him fucking the other girls when you leave for college, teaching them how to kiss, and letting them sit on his lap and eat lunch every day makes you want to cry and scream and the same time. He’s yours! He doesn’t get to fuck anyone else, nobody else should be bleeding on his cock and cumming on his fingers.  

“S’not fair! You’re mine, only mine!” You wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him impossibly closer to you, in you. 

“Then prove it little girl, show me that I belong to you.” He shoves his lips on your pouting ones. 

You throw your arms around his neck and buck into his hips, determined to show him that he only needs you. That you’re enough to satisfy all his needs. 

“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum deep in this cunny. Gonna fill you up—watch you get full with my baby and have to drop out of college before you even finish the first semester!” His thrusts turn sloppy, bruising your swollen cunt. 

“Yes, give me your baby Sir, please!” You moan, suddenly thinking about a life with him and a baby you two 've created. You’ve never felt so empty. 

“Please, please, need ‘ur baby s’bad!” You slur, legs tightening around his waist. 

“‘M cummin’ schoolgirl, ‘m fucking my baby into your too-small cunt.” Satoru groans, his balls contracting as he shoots his load into your womb. 

The sensation of being filled causes you to orgasm again, the world going blank for a few seconds.  

“Shit!” Satoru lays over top of you, the weight of him making you wheeze. You lay there silently for a few minutes, unable to form a coherent thought. 

“W-was that good?” you question when your mind clears, thinking back to what he said about fucking other girls. 

“Of course it was princess, best I’ve ever had.” He reassures all the while his mind is racing, thinking ‘bout the new girl that just transferred to your school. He kisses you as he places a bet with himself ‘How long would it take to get her breed full of his child too.’ 

#𐙚 ࣪ ˖ sugume writes #𐙚 ࣪ ˖ smut journal #gojo x reader #x reader #smut #jjk #anime #gojo x you #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo smut #suguru #satoru gojo #gojo x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #toji x reader #toji smut #nanami x reader #jjk nanami #nanami smut #choso x y/n #choso x reader #geto suguru #geto x reader #jujutsu geto #jjk geto

[thegnomelord]

Good Dog

CW: NSFW, DARK-FIC, murder, gore, power imbalance, size difference(reader's bigger), description of torture and brainwashing, oral, anal, blood as lube, plot and exposition with porn, pet play(collars and leashes), toxic relationship, dub-con, very very self indulgent.

Моя гончая- my hound, Хороший солдат - good soldier, Расслабьтесь, братья мои - relax, my brothers, приносить - fetch, есть - eat

The thick door and walls of the private room do nothing to damped the bass of the club pounding in his ears, the annoying music made bearable by the high of a recent victory. Puffs of cigarette smoke lazily curl in the air as Makarov leans further back into the couch, the buzzing sting of a fresh tattoo helping him relax. The scent of expensive liquor only adds to the heady atmosphere, crystal clear vodka swirling in his glass before Makarov takes a sip. His dark eyes peer over the rim of his glass, like doorways to a dark abyss, his gaze dancing across the faces of his most trusted men before settling on the lieutenant's as the man tries to prove his worth with pointless words.

Above all else, Makarov values loyalty.

It doesn't matter how strong a man is if he can't follow orders. The number of soldiers he can lead is pointless when he can't keep his men alive. How well he can shoot is meaningless when he can't devote himself to a cause. A man who is disloyal is a man of single use.

Makarov doesn't even try to listen to whatever drivel the lieutenant's spouting, he doesn't see a reason to sour his mood when he already knows everything: the embezzling, the lying, the adorable double agent act. He has you to thank for that, you'd sniffed the lieutenant out the second you met him, diligently uncovering every speck of dirt the lieutenant had attempted to hide from Makarov.

And you? You are very loyal. His loyal hound.

His fingers curl around the leash, the smooth black leather sliding against his calloused palms. A barely there tug is all it takes for you to lean down over the back of the couch, bracing one large hand near his head for support as the other remains over the grip of your sidearm. You loom over him, and while Makarov may be a fearsome man, he can't deny the type of foreboding fear a goliath like you inspires — a towering figure always a step behind him, broad body big enough to easily cover him fully if you need to take a bullet for him, arms strong and palms wide to easily crack a man's skull.

Settling the glass down he takes another drag of his cigarette, "Hound," Another tug — sharper, harsher; such a small correction yet the fact you needed it at all has acrid disappointment burning on your tongue — makes you bend down more, your face now next to his. He doesn't draw attention to the reprimand, breathing out a puff of smoke near your face. "Were you listening, моя гончая?"

It's a pointless question, he knows you were listening, he trained you to. But he asks because he loves to see the way your eyes darken, jaw tight. The cigarette smoke dances in the air, making the club's low lights reflect off the sharp spikes adorning the thick collar snuggly wrapped around your throat. Your day collar suits you well, no different than the spiked collars put on hunting hounds.

"Yes sir." You answer, your attention now solely on the lieutenant.

Makarov hums, eyes flickering from the lieutenant to you. "And?" He chuckles and lets the leash go, his word keeping you in place as he casually pats your neck. "What did you hear?"

"Lies. . ." The slow slide of his fingers across the uncovered parts of your throat makes your breath stutter, static crackling beneath your skin. "I heard lies, sir." Your answer causes the lieutenant to try and sputter excuses and denials, all cut short by the harsh look you give him.

Makarov chuckles, hooking a finger over the silver loop at the front of your collar, pulling on it and tilting his head so his lips can ghost across your jaw. "Хороший солдат." Makarov murmurs. His stubble scratches your skin as his lips brush a path to your ear, so very close to a lover's kiss.

But a brush of skin is all it is. Nothing more. Your body earns for more, to turn your head and experience the bruising possessiveness of his kiss once again, to feel his teeth bite down on your lip until blood floods both of your mouths. But you don't move; A spoiled dog isn't loyal and Makarov won't lavish you with attention for nothing. no — you must earn it.

"Stay." The soft 'click' of the leash unclipping sounds the same as a sentencing gavel, the strip of leather falling away until only his word keeps you from tearing the lieutenant's throat out with your teeth. Makarov smirks against your skin, his words honey sweet to your ears as he whispers: "Sick him."

That seals the ex-lieutenant's fate.

You're on the lieutenant in an instant, crashing into him like a truck. Makarov leans back and lights up another cigarette as you stomp down on the man's leg, all the weight you carry around bearing down on his bones until they break, erasing any foolish thoughts of escape when you snap the bones of his other ankle; Makarov has truly taught you well.

The screams of a traitor are much better than the atrocious club music, letting him enjoy the smooth burn of the vodka as another stomp breaks a couple of ribs. Some of his men are still nervous around you, trying not to shuffle in their seats lest they grab your attention and become the new outlet of your violence.

"Расслабьтесь, братья мои." Makarov gives a charming smile, resting his ankle on his knee as he takes another drag. "Hound is well trained, you have nothing to fear." He chuckles, lazily watching you as he holds conversation with his lieutenants. Honestly, you're like a dog with a new toy, tossing the man around and pinning him down under your heavy body, each swing of your fists steadily turning the ex-lieutenant's face into pulp.

It's as entertaining for him as it is therapeutic for you.

And to think Price had tried to suppress all that beautiful savageness you possessed.

Makarov remembers how you'd been nothing but a snarling and cursing ball of anger when his men had captured you after a botched mission. He had been both annoyed and amused by how loyal you were to Price, weathering every beating and starving and humiliation with the same 'fuck you' response, baring your teeth like the cornered dog you were. With days turning to months and your resolve refusing to waver under their 'care' Makarov had considered just putting you down, sending a nice video of blowing your skull open to Price but oh — is he glad he decided to indulge in the game your stubbornness presented.

He set out to train you like he would any mongrel mutt, clear expectations making it easy to tell whether your actions would get you a reward or an even worse punishment, giving small rewards for the behavior he wanted; not snarling at him might earn you a better meal. Biting your lip and taking your beating without back talk could get you a couple of minutes outside the claustrophobic walls of your cell. Letting him touch and inspect your body without complaint might reward you with a book or some other little creature comfort he could, and did, easily take away the moment you stepped out of line.

Of course you were weary, perceptive enough to know when he was scheming. But every man has his limits, yours were simply reached when he handed you official C.I.A documents proclaiming you as K.I.A, the mission itself creatively rewritten to sound like you had gone and deserted to the enemy — no one was looking for you, no one was coming to save you, your captain, Price, wasn't coming to save you.

He had taken great enjoyment in running his fingers across your scalp as you clutched the documents in a white knuckled grip, your mind far too worn down to question or guard against the soft touches. His lips had brushed against your ear, soothingly raspy voice comforting you — you're a good soldier, strong, reliable, everything a commander could dream of. It wasn't your fault you trusted the wrong man, truly, what a shame to have your loyalty repaid with betrayed like that.

After that, it became laughably easy to train you. He stuck with simple commands, spoken only in Russian so he could amuse himself with the way your head would tilt before you'd perk up, recognition making your dull eyes brighten before you did what he wanted in exchange for a small scrap of his affection, learning to seek his praise and appreciate his touch even when your body still prickled with disgust. So when he handed you the knife, standing so close you could have easily slit his throat, and ordered you to kill another member of your previous taskforce, you hadn't hesitated for a second. "Good boy." He had purred, caressing your jaw as he used his thumb to wipe away the blood staining your cheek.

"Hound." His voice is as effective as any physical tug on your leash, making you stop mid punch with your fist inches away from the ex-lieutenant's caved in face. You're covered in blood, the rich crimson bringing out the violence swirling in your eyes.

Yet you look at him with utter adoration he wants to shove his cock deep down your throat just so he can see your tears smudge the blood on your cheeks. "Приносить." He taps his thigh.

You nod your head, grabbing the knife strapped to your thigh. There's no hesitation in your movements as you shove the knife into the ex-lieutenant's throat. An arc of blood spurts across your front when you yank it out just to stab another spot, the man coughing and choking as you cut through cartilage and muscle until with a good yank and a sickening 'crack!' you separate the head from the body.

Makarov had never seen the appeal of large hulking brutes until you — your body had filled back out with muscle and fat nicely after you became his, towering body demanding attention simply by existing as you stand up. The loud stomp of your feet and the blood staining your body making you look like a barbarian, casting a shadow over him before you kneel at his feet, offering the decapitated head as a knight does to his king.

Oh yes, he definitely sees the appeal now.

"Good dog." He purrs, reaching out to stroke your jaw, smearing some of the blood with his thumb. Fingers sliding down to hook on the silver ring on your collar he pulls your head closer. "Do you think you earned a reward?"

It's a test. One you're intimately familiar with. The judgmental stares of Makarov's trusted men are the last thing in your mind when the closeness of his body and the sharp crisp scent of his cologne threatens to shatter your resolve. "Only if you permit it, sir." Your throat feels dry, trying not to show how eager you are for his attention as you place the head on the floor so you don't get a drop of blood on him.

Makarov smirks, "Smart dog," His hands move to the back of your neck, unbuckling the collar. You're no longer ashamed to admit you feel naked as the thick piece of leather is pulled away; the time when you didn't have a collar wrapped around your neck feel like a distant memory and now the sensation of breathing without it pressing against your skin is disturbing. You have to bite your lip to keep the low whine from escaping your chest.

His hand wraps securely around your throat, bringing your breath back to you. Your Adam's apple bobs beneath his fingers as he traces the 'V.M' shallowly carved across your throat. "It's already starting to fade." He tuts, squeezing his fingers to restrict your breathing just the slightest bit more. "We'll need to have it tattooed. That would be nice, yes?"

You suck in a sharp breath, "Yes sir."

"Хороший солдат." He purrs. He pulls out another collar from his pocket and you feel yourself chub up in your pants just at the sight of it. It's the chained pronged one he uses exclusively when he wants you to pleasure him, particularly because it leaves such pretty bruises along your skin when he tugs on the leash.

You eagerly tilt your head back to bare your throat, a shudder rushing down your spine as soon as you feel the cold metal against your skin. You stay perfectly still as he secures around your neck, the sharp pull of the leash making the prongs dig into your skin, prickles of pain making you even harder. "Go on," Makarov hums, spreading his legs wider so your attention falls to the hard bulge in his slacks, his belt undone but the rest left to you. "есть."

You don't think you could enjoy servicing him as much as you did if he didn't let you work for it, the reward made sweeter because you earned it. Truly, he's so good to you, you'd thank him profusely but he hasn't given you permission to speak freely. So you lean in, careful not to get blood on his pants as you take the metal zipper between your teeth and pull it down. You've done this enough not to have any problems undoing the button, your hands obediently planted on your thighs and your gaze firmly on him so you can see the pleased smirk that spreads across his features when you bite the band of his boxers and pull them down until his cock springs out, already hard.

A pleased sigh escapes him when your warm lips wrap around the head of his cock, the leash wrapped firmly around his hand and the slightest tug on it has pain prickling down your spine. "Моя гончая, don't waste my time." You can't help but whine lowly at the admonishment, quickly trying to make up to him by sucking on the tip and licking the slit in just the way he likes it.

His leg shifts, hard boot coming up to grind the sole against your clothed cock. "That's better." The praise makes you moan deep from your chest and try to take more of his cock into your mouth, your boxers wet and sticky against your own cock as you give an experimental hump of your hips against his boot. You scrape your teeth along the vein on the underside of his cock and it earns you a rough grind of his boot. His hand tangles in your bloodied hair and pulls you down until his cock bumps the back of your throat.

You nearly choke from the sudden pressure, trying to fight off the reflex to pull back and gag. "Look at me." His order rings clear in your head, your eyes meeting his as he grinds your nose into his pubic hair, tears prickling the corners of your eyes as your lungs start to burn. You fight through it, the fluttering of your throat making him five a small, rough, moan and fuck — you're hard as a rock.

Just as you feel like you'll pass out on his cock he lets you off, yanking your head back. You're only given a few seconds to take a sharp breath of fresh air before he pushes your head back down. You're prepared this time, hollowing your cheeks and relaxing your throat, swallowing around his hard cock. The way you suck Makarov off is wet and sloppy, stealing ragged breaths when you can as you trace the veins of his cock with your tongue and gently nibble on the base when his cock's fully sheathed in your throat, knowing exactly how to please him. Your efforts are rewarded with the salty taste of precum on your tongue, hearing him occasionally mutter his praises in Russian, none of his words snagging on your mind like sharp orders so you let yourself drift in the pleasure of servicing him, subconsciously grinding your cock into his foot.

But you're not mentally gone enough not to notice the squeaking of chairs, your body tensing as you pull up enough so only his head remains in your mouth, your head turned just enough to throw a sharp glare at the other men in the room. Makarov having his guard down like this makes you tense, violence buzzing beneath your skin from the ingrained need to protect him.

"Hound." Makarov's growl is followed by another sharp tug of the leash, the dull ache of the metal prongs digging into your skin dissipating some of your aggression. "Did I tell you to stop?"

You shake your head as best you can, a pathetic whine escaping your chest from the way the pain makes your cock even harder. Satisfied, he eases the leash, letting you return to your work. His head lolls back, lazily looking at his men. He couldn't care less who sees you like this, but now he wants your full attention on him. "Leave." He gives the simple command.

You track the sound of shuffling feet as you take him fully into your mouth, making him hiss a curse under his breath. Nuzzling your nose into his curly pubic hair you breathe in his musk, his heel grinding firmly and consistently against your hard cock, pleasure pulsing through your veins with such intensity you're worried you'll cum without permission, low whines escaping your throat.

He pulls you off him suddenly, your lungs burning as you gasp for air. You expect him to paint your face with his cum, stake an obvious ownership over you. But he doesn't, pulling you by the leash and leaning down to mash your lips together, teeth biting down on your lip until it bleeds.

Makarov's kisses are rough and demanding, the sweet drug your body's been craving, teeth clicking together and tongues swirling in each other's mouths. The firm grind of his boot against your crotch makes you moan lowly, a sound he happily swallows down and nearly shoves his tongue down your throat. You part far too soon, your body craving much much more, but he doesn't let you stew in the disappointment of a short kiss — it's an owner's responsibility to spoil his pet — mumbling against your lips. "Prepare me."

A full shudder runs down your spine and you surge to follow his order. Makarov loves the determined look you get in your eye just as much as he loves the rough way you grip his hips and hike them up so you can pull his pants and boxers down his legs. Your bloodied fingers grip his hips and pull them down until his ass hangs off the edge of the couch, throwing his legs over your shoulders and he can feel the muscles deep in his back strain as you nearly bend him in half, his hard cock and hole bared for you.

It's a vulnerable position, trapped between your bulky frame and the couch he has no way to escape. And if anyone else were to attempt this he would feed every inch of their flesh to themselves. But Makarov relishes the knowledge that he's in control, a single word from him would make you stop regardless of how hard and wanting you were, your loyalty to him as real as the dead man's blood you dip your fingers in to lube them.

Your fingers circle his hole before you press the pad of your finger against it. Without the heat of battle the cold viscousness of the blood feels disgusting, making him shiver and his rim flutter against your digit. But the discomfort is easily forgotten when you apply pressure, the steady and persistent way you push your finger in forcing his muscles to yield. "Shit-" Makarov clenches his teeth; your fingers are so large just one feels like two of his own, the gnawing pain of your finger pushing deeper just amplifying the pleasure of being stretched open and your other hand loosely stroking his wet cock.

You don't go slower than you need to, perfectly trained to know how to move your fingers to keep him teetering on the edge between pleasure and pain, each shift and slow drag of your finger pulling deep grunt and soft breaths from between his clenched teeth. "Yes, there you go." His praise makes your heart melt and cock throb in your pants, the pull of the leash bringing your lips together in another harsh kiss. You swallow his moans greedily, pushing a second finger in and curling them in search of his prostate, your thumb incessantly rubbing the space between his balls and ass to trap the spongy flesh between your fingers.

He nearly chokes you with how hard he yanks on the leash, hips pushing back into your hand and walls clenching down on your fingers. The stinging ache of being stretched open mixes with the building pleasure, leaving his skin feeling like a live wire. His teeth dig into your lip until it bleeds again, heels digging into your back. He grinds his hips down on your fingers, muttering praises against your lips as you push a third finger in and force him to take it.

He can't wait any more, gripping your hair and roughly yanking your head back. "Fuck me already." He growls, licking the blood staining your cheek.

You scramble to do as you're told, continuing to stretch him open as you undo your belt and pants with one hand, your hard cock bobbing against your abdomen. Pulling your fingers out you scoop up more blood, the cold helping reign in your lust as you lube up.

Before you can do anything he reaches out to grip the base of your cock, his hold firm and just at the cusp of pain. "You'll be good, yes?" He growls against your lips. "Fuck me good and hard?" His hand moves, stroking you slowly, evenly coating the blood along your cock. "I don't need to show you how to use this thing again, do I?" There's a dangerous edge in his voice.

Fear shoots down your spine, mouth going dry. You'd been too eager for human touch when he first let you mount him, and when you came seconds after getting inside him he'd been less than pleased by your abilities. You couldn't feel your cock for a full week after he'd tied you down and used your cock until you couldn't cum, using a cock ring to keep you hard and using you until he was satisfied.

You quickly shake your head. "No sir," You choke out and bare your throat. "I can do it, I'll be good." You promise.

His hold loosens, tugging you by the hair so he can peck your lips, his tongue licking over the small wound he'd made. "Don't fail me now."

You steel yourself like you're going to war, pressing your cockhead to his hole. Your nails dig into his hip, your grip ironclad to keep him still as you pull him down more and simultaneously push in. There's a second of resistance before your head pops in, the pleasure of entering his velvet soft insides being met with sharp pain as his teeth chomp down on your shoulder through your shirt. It all mixes in your brain into pure bliss, your hips bucking up into him automatically until you're bottomed out. You hold him close to you and leisurely grind your hips, letting him get used to the mind numbing stretch.

Fuck— Makarov may see the appeal of brutes but impaled on your cock he feels like he's being split in two, lungs burning and he can almost swear your tip's poking his diaphragm. He chases the pain more than the pleasure, heels digging into your back to give him some leverage so he can push his hips into yours. "Yes," His head lolls back when you slowly withdraw, only to suddenly snap your hips and hilt yourself inside him again. "-fuck, yes!"

The blood keeps you from tearing him apart but there's too little of it to keep him from feeling the painful stretch, the slow movement of your hips making his thighs shake. "Harder," He demands, yanking on your leash and biting your shoulder again. "Make me feel it." His voice is rough with a demand, because men like him never beg.

"Yes sir," You manage, bracing your feet and setting a rough pace, rutting into him like an animal. He muffles his sounds into your shoulder as your cock saws into him, his walls fluttering and clenching around you so tightly it feels like he'll snap your cock off. You do your best to focus on him and his pleasure, but the tight heat of his hole is rapidly melting any control you have, your cock throbbing and leaking precum inside him.

"Sir, please-" You whine, your muscles tight and your balls feeling so full you feel like you'll burst, your voice full of need. "I'm so close."

“Not yet.” He growls, pushing his hips down to meet your thrusts, your hand stroking his cock. “Make me cum first.” He growls.

You hold back a pathetic whine and redouble your efforts, your rough thrusts bruising his ass as you fuck into him, aiming to nail his prostate every time you bottom out. He wails, whole body shaking, his cock throbbing in your hand and leaking a puddle of precum on his stomach.

Makarov cums without any warning, going rigid and biting your shoulder even harder as pearly cum shoots from his tip, his walls clamping down on your cock. "C- cum!" He snarls, voice muffled, and it's all you need. Bottoming out fully you moan as you shoot his insides full of your cum, rocking your hips and grinding your cock against his prostate to prolong both of our highs.

You hold him close as you come down to reality but the way his walls clench around your cock makes you feel like heaven. His hands grip your jaw, bringing you down into a disorganized sloppy kiss. He's boneless in your arms, his walls continuing to flutter around you. "That was good." He slurs, chest rising and falling as he tries to catch his breath. "Good dog."

The tug of the leash is expected and Makarov kisses the corner of your lips, tongue swiping across your skin to lick up more of the blood staining your lips. "Clean me up." He orders, "Lick up your mess." He growls, and there's not a single part of you that would refuse him.

Tag list: @lieutnt, @pastelclovds @thee-great-enigma @vladimirking24

#baby's first dark fic #vladimir makarov x male reader #vladimir makarov x reader #bottom cod x male reader #cod modern warfare #cod mw3 #vladimir makarov #gay #cod x male!reader #cod x reader #cod x male reader #cod x you #trinckets of the hoard #centerpieces of the hoard #cod mw2 #call of duty x male reader #call of duty x reader #bottom character #x top male reader #top male reader #top reader #x dom male reader

[heartateasee]

“Attention”

boyfriend!Harry x you

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: unprotected sex, sir kink, mutual masturbation and squirting

Plot: Your boyfriend, Harry, is CEO for a big company, and you’ve been feeling neglected lately. Being bored at home alone causes you to think of the perfect idea to capture his attention.

◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈

You wandered across the hardwood floors of your boyfriend’s house. House was putting it lightly. Your boyfriend practically owned a mansion. But regardless of him owning a mansion, it didn’t make up for the neglect you had been feeling for almost the past two weeks.

Harry had been your boyfriend for a little over three years now, and you made the decision to move in with him almost a year ago. Your relationship was honestly nothing short of perfect. A year into your relationship you were able to quit your job as he wanted to support you fully, and things only got better once you moved in. He doted on you, and gave you everything that you could possibly want.

At first you felt bad, telling him that he was doing too much, and that you were more than happy just being with him. Harry didn’t like that answer. He wanted you to know how much he loved you. Whether that was in public, in the bedroom, or contained in your shopping bags - Harry wanted you to know.

Your boyfriend was a busy man. You knew this from the start of your relationship, but you felt more lonely recently. It wasn’t like the two of you to go without sex for so long. It was a Friday, and this coming Sunday, it will have been two weeks since the two of you have been intimate.

Now that you think of it, this may be the longest you’ve gone since the first time you gave yourselves over to each other.

As you made your way back into your bedroom, you sat on the foot of your bed. Your eyes slipped shut, as you reminisced about the last time he had his way with you - despite an interruption.

Harry’s large hand was around your throat as his chest was pressed against your back. Both of you were on your side, still a bit hazy due to the early morning, but even on the weekends Harry’s body woke him up at dawn. His prick was thrusting in and out of your barely awakened cunt as you mewled and moaned into the open air of your bedroom. Despite being groggy, you could hear the sound of your arousal bouncing off the walls.

“My good fucking girl,” Harry growled lowly in your ear, his voice still rough from sleep. “Taking me so well - every inch.”

Your hand reached behind to grasp at his hip, and you could feel your fingertips denting into his skin. This was one of your favorite positions. It was so easy, and slightly lazy, but it just always felt right. 

He dropped his hand from your throat, and he coasted it down your chest to knead one of your breasts as he continued to consume you.

“Are you, angel? Are you my good girl?”

You gasped as he tugged at your nipple, causing you to drop your head back against his shoulder as he continued his pleasurable taking of your drenched pussy.

“Yes,” you huffed. “Your good girl. Only yours.”

Your hazy eyes watched as Harry smirked, and he dragged his hand back up to cup the underside of your chin. His lips met yours in a sloppy, and tortuous kiss before the shrill of his phone cut through your lust.

“Ignore it, please,” you begged, your other hand coming up to wrap around his wrist, but his free hand was already reaching behind him to locate the inconvenient device on his nightstand. You rolled your eyes when you heard him answer it, and as much as you knew he tried not to, his hips stilled.

“What?” Harry snapped into the phone, still caressing over your ribs and your side. “I’m busy.”

You could hear a muffled voice on the other side, and you rolled your eyes again. Your hand around his wrist gripped a bit harder to pull his hand off your chin - maneuvering your way through the silk sheets away from him. It caused him to slip out of you, and you could tell he tried to suppress a groan from the sensation.

You didn’t get very far until you felt Harry’s arm around your waist, pulling you right back to where you were. As much as you tried to fight against his grasp, you knew you were useless. You weren’t fighting the sex because you didn’t want it, you were fighting it because you were annoyed.

His fingertips prodded against your soaked entrance for a moment before you felt his arousal-ridden tip enter you again. Harry was so slick with your want, and as much as you wanted to resist, the fact he still wanted you while taking a business call had your head reeling.

“What do you mean he hasn’t counter offered?” Harry’s thrusts delved further into you as your fingers grasped to the pillowcase under your head.

His large hand trailed down your leg until he threw it over his hip, and you let out the loudest moan of the morning when you felt him so deep.

“Well, if he doesn’t want to meet our demands, then find someone else to go through with it,” Harry strained as he continued to satiate your needs. “But I can’t draw this out too much longer. Not right now.”

Whimpering, you reached around to grasp at his torso, fingernails digging into his skin. You needed him, every bit of him, and you knew he was trying to give it to you. 

Harry hissed at the sting from your nails, but he didn’t care - he liked a little bit of pain. “Figure it the fuck out. I’ll be at the office within the hour.”

His phone was thrown onto the floor, and his arms enveloped you. Letting out a huff of surprise, your back met his chest even further, and his cock continued to ease your every ache.

“Y-you answered your phone,” you whined, hands gripping to his forearms. “While you were inside me.”

Harry scoffed, shaking his head. “And?”

You frowned, your body jolting with each of his thrusts. “They knew what was happening, H.”

“So what if they did? ‘S their fault anyway - bothering me on my day off,” his lips sponged against your neck before you felt him nipping at the hinge of your jaw. “Now c’mon, angel. Need you to get my cock all wet.”

Just the thought of him stretching you out had your thighs pressing together, and you opened your eyes to look at your phone on the nightstand. You grabbed it and quickly clicked on his name to call him, and you put the device up to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hi, H,” you said softly as you fiddled with a stray string on your comforter.

“Is everything alright, angel? You usually never call like this.”

It was true. You didn’t call during his work days because you didn’t know if you’d be disrupting something important, and you didn’t want to bother him.

“No, nothing’s wrong. I just…I’m feeling a little-”

“Richard, no, that’s not the number we agreed to,” Harry cut you off, and that’s when you could hear other voices in the background. “No, you tell him it’s either that or nothing at all.”

You go quiet as you hear a bit more back and forth before Harry is clearing his throat.

“Sorry about that, baby. What were you saying?”

Sighing, you shook your head as you pinched the bridge of your nose between your thumb and index finger. “Nothing, it’s nothing. Do you know when you’ll be home this evening? I’d like to know when to start getting dinner ready.”

“I don’t know right now, I’m sorry. We’re getting really close to sealing this deal, and I don’t want to lose it. I may have to stay pretty late today to make sure it gets done.”

You dropped your hand into your lap as you felt tears welling in your eyes. They were tears of sadness, and frustration. You missed your boyfriend, and even though he’s been home after work in the evenings, you felt as if you hadn’t seen him at all these last few days.

Once he comes in from work, he sits at the table with his already made dinner that you worked so hard on, and silence blankets the table. You don’t ask how work is because when he’s quiet like that you know it’s either not good, or he’s extremely stressed. He won’t ask how your day has been, or what you got up to to entertain yourself.

As you wash the dishes, he’s already up in your en-suite - taking a shower before hauling himself away inside his home office. You're left to bathe alone and you tuck yourself into bed. Alone. It’s not until the wee hours of the morning that you’ll feel him get into bed beside you, but he doesn’t hold you. It all feels so empty.

“Okay,” you responded, shaking your head. “I’ll just put your plate in the fridge for whenever you get home. I’ll let you get back to work.”

“You sound upset,” Harry said, and although you could hear the concern in his voice, it still didn’t make you feel any better.

“Maybe I am,” you laughed. “I feel like I haven’t seen you lately.”

“Are you serious? You see me every day at home. We have dinner together every night. We sleep in the same bed. What do you mean you don’t see me?” His tone now had a bit of annoyance to it, and that set you off.

“Just because you’re here, Harry, doesn’t mean you’re actually here. Mentally you’re still at work, and focused on whatever deal you’re making at the time. I’m left to entertain myself all day, and now I’m stuck doing it at night too. It never used to be this way.”

“Do you understand that if I don’t take care of these deals then we won’t have a roof over our heads? That we won’t have food on our table, and that you won’t be able to go out and just buy whatever you want? This is my job, Y/N. You knew who I was when you started dating me. I’m a busy man.”

“God, you’re not even listening,” you groaned, tears now streaming down your cheeks. “We’ll talk later. Whenever you get home, I guess.”

You could still hear him speaking as you ended the call, and you dropped your phone onto the bed. Pressing the heels of your palms against your eyes, you sucked in a deep breath and tried to calm yourself as best as possible.

It hurt that he didn’t see the point that you were trying to get across to him. Instead you were met with aggression, and misunderstanding. 

Once you gathered yourself, you stood up from the bed and began to walk into your en-suite, but you stopped as your eyes lingered on the drawer of your nightstand. The drawer housed every toy that you and Harry owned, and regardless of being upset, you were still extremely frustrated sexually.

Then the lightbulb went off in your head.

You knew just how to get your boyfriend’s attention.

Making your way into the en-suite, you bring out your curling iron, and you style some soft waves in your hair. You apply a little bit of mascara to your lashes, just enough to give them some volume before you head into your closet.

You pulled out a lingerie set, one that you knew was Harry’s favorite, and you paired it with some sheer white knee high stockings. Tying a white silk robe around your body, you opened your nightstand drawer, and you grabbed your medium-sized pink vibrator.

Harry had several cameras in the house, and you knew that they went off when motion was detected. Most of the time he’d look at the notification on his phone, check the footage to make sure it was you, and that everything was okay before he’d move along. But today, you knew just how to get him to stay focused on one particular camera.

With your phone in one hand, and your vibrator in the other, you made your way into his home office. You never come in here when he isn’t home, so you knew the notification that motion was coming from this room would intrigue him immediately.

You’d be getting his attention. You knew he would call you.

You kept your eyes on the camera as you made your way around his desk, pushing his computer chair to the side so that it didn’t block the view of you once you perched yourself up onto the desk. Tilting your head to the side, you placed both your vibrator and your phone down before leaning back against the wooden surface - palms down on the top of it.

You pushed yourself up to where you were now sitting right in the middle on the top of his desk, and you brought your fingers down to play with the tie of your robe before undoing it. You let it fall off your shoulders slowly, and then you threw it off to the side.

Biting down on your bottom lip, you ghosted your hands over the swells of your breasts that spilled so deliciously over the cups of your lingerie. As you started down towards your core, you heard Harry’s ringtone cutting through the silence, and you smirked as you looked back up to the camera.

You blindly reached down and accepted the call - putting it on speaker.

“Hel-”

“What do you think you’re doing, Y/N?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” You asked as you batted your eyelashes up at the lens, pursing your lips into a pout. “I’m just trying to take care of myself - find something to entertain me while you’re busy providing for us.”

You heard him scoff on the other line, and you trailed the tip of your finger over the vibrator that was still laying next to your thigh.

“I figured that if I did it in here, it would be like I was closer to you since this is where you’ve been spending all your time at home lately. Still smells like you from last night.”

Maybe you were being a little mean, but you didn’t care at this point. You wanted him to know you were upset, and just how much this was hurting you.

“Y/N,” you could hear the restraint in his voice. He didn’t want to give into you, but you knew you’d have him cracking in no time.

“Yes, sir?”

“You're being a little brat.”

“Am I?” You tilted your head to the side as you picked the vibrator up, trailing the tip of it over the top of your thigh. “I thought you’d be happy that I found something to do to occupy my time since you’re too busy for me.”

You heard Harry saying some names through the phone, and you could tell he was letting people he’d be busy for a moment. He told them not to disturb him for a bit, and he’d let them know when he was available again. You knew he was probably speaking to his assistant that sat right outside his office door.

It wasn’t until you heard the sound of the door shutting, and the click of him locking it, that you felt anticipation swirling in your lower abdomen.

“Interrupting me during my work? I’d say that’s brat behavior.”

“Well, it seems like you don’t mind the interruption too much since you’re still watching me. And you’re still on the phone with me, aren’t you?”

Clicking the button on the bottom of the toy, you feel the vibrations flow through your thigh before you slide it over to rest on the top of your mound.

Harry remained silent, but you heard the unbuckling of his belt, and the noise of his zipper being pulled down.

“Touching yourself at work, hm?” You taunted, and you gasped out as you pressed the tip of the vibrator to your covered clit.

“What else do you expect me to do? Just sit here and watch you get off?”

Humming, you tilted your head to the side. “Honestly, that would seem fair to me. It might be nice to have you feel a little neglected for once. Then you’d know what I’ve felt like for almost two weeks.”

“Two weeks…fuck,” you could tell that Harry was actually surprised to realize the span of time. “Has it really been that long, angel?”

“Mhmm,” you started to move the toy in slow circles, your toes curling in your stockings. “Been lonely, sir.”

“Shit, I’m ‘s sorry, baby. I didn’t think it had been that long. Can’t believe I’ve left you needy. You know I don’t like doing that to you.”

You hadn’t realized your eyes slipped shut, so you fluttered them open - looking back to the camera. Parting your lips, you let out a lewd moan as you applied more pressure against your needy pearl, and you arched your back so your pretty cleavage was pushed out for him to see.

“Looking so beautiful, sweetheart. ‘Y wear that set just for me?”

You nodded as you fought to keep your eyes open. “I know it’s your favorite,” you breathed as you rested your cheek against your shoulder. “How are you touching yourself?”

“Just palming myself over my briefs right now - squeezing myself a little. Teasing myself for you,” Harry panted, and you clenched down around nothing at the vision his words brought you.

“Good.”

You pulled the underwear part of your lingerie to the side, lifting the vibrator up the slightest bit just to put it right back down against your throbbing bundle of nerves.

“Tell me how wet you are,” Harry huffed into the phone, and you moved your free hand down to circle your entrance - being met immediately with your arousal.

“So wet, sir. Already dripping,” you told him before slipping a finger inside as you upped the vibrations on your toy.

Your hips bucked up against your palm and the vibrator, and soon you heard the sound of Harry spitting through the phone.

You knew he was spitting into his hand, and it caused a shudder to run up your spine.

“Did you pull yourself out?”

“Yeah, I had to. I’m rock fucking hard, angel. It was starting to hurt,” Harry spoke into the phone, and you started to hear the sounds of his wet hand sliding over his shaft. 

“How does it feel?” You dipped another finger inside, beginning to curl them to graze your g spot as you felt the familiar burning in your lower abdomen - your thighs attempting to pull themselves together as you neared your orgasm.

“Feels good, but not as good as you. Wish it was your tight little cunt squeezing me - not my hand.”

You moaned at his words, and his shallow breaths mixed with the noise of your toy, and your fingers, filled the room. “And I wish it was you inside me, and not my fingers. It feels good, but it’s not enough.”

“Slip another finger in for me, Y/N. Make it three. I know you won’t be as full as if you were full of me, but it’ll get you there.”

You knew this information yourself, but you liked him coaching you through it. There was something so insanely sexy about this whole thing, and you couldn’t help but wonder if this would become a new norm for the two of you.

Gliding another finger into your slick entrance, you really started to feel your orgasm creeping in, and you applied more pressure to your swollen bud.

“Cut that lingerie, baby. I want to see properly.”

“But…but this is your favorite-”

“Y/N, cut it. I’ll buy you another. There’s scissors on my desk.”

You whimpered as you slid your fingers out of yourself so that you could reach behind and grab the scissors. Once they were in your hand, you carefully separated the blades over the underwear and snipped it - having it fall completely open.

Immediately, you plunged your three fingers back inside, and you began to pulse them in and out at a harder rate now that you had more room to work with.

“I can hear how drenched you are through the phone. That’s so fucking sexy, and you look so fucked right now. Never gonna have you go without again, you hear me?”

Whining, you nodded your head in response to his words. “Please don’t, Harry. I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you too, baby. When I get home, I’m going to give it to you so nice, and deep. I’m gonna make you feel how sorry I am. I’m gonna let you know that this won’t ever happen again,” Harry grunted, and you could hear that he had picked up the pace of him fucking his prick into his fist.

Knowing your next move would send you over the edge, you pressed the pad of your thumb against the button of the toy one more time so that it was on the highest intensity, and as much as you wanted to close your legs down around your hand, you forced them open more.

“I’m about to come, sir,” you moaned, curling your fingers to rub the tips of them over your spongy spot over and over. “It’s…oh, it’s going to be a lot.”

“Come for me, angel. Let me see it. Let me hear you.”

As your orgasm began to wash over you, you pulled the vibrator away from your clit as your climax sprayed across the inside of your thighs, and across the top of Harry’s desk. You continued to grind your ass against the wood to meet the aggressive thrusts of your hand, keeping your orgasm going as more and more liquid left you.

“Oh my fuck,” Harry gasped into the phone, and it quickly turned into a moan. “Got me coming all over my hand - all over my stomach. Holy shit.”

You felt yourself clench down around your fingers harder when the noises of Harry spreading his come over his length filled your ears, and you let out one final gush of your own orgasm before you began to slow down.

Your chest heaved up and down, and you whimpered as you removed your fingers.

“Clean them up.”

With your hand still trembling from the aftermath of your climax, you held out your tongue as you wiped your fingers over the pad of it before sealing your lips down around them. Harry hummed as your eyes fluttered shut, and you felt yourself starting to come back down to earth.

“My good girl,” Harry cooed, and you opened your eyes again to send him a dazed smile through the camera. “My gorgeous angel. How are you feeling?”

“Good,” you sighed as you lazily nodded your head. “Really good.”

“I’m so glad ‘m love. I’m sorry I didn’t pay attention to what you were trying to tell me earlier, and I want to talk about it more when I get home, okay? I don’t want to let this happen again.”

“Okay, H. Thank you for hearing me.”

“I’m sorry for not doing it sooner. I’ll see you shortly. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“And angel?”

“Yes, Harry?”

“Go ahead and plan on being on all fours on the bed when you hear me come in the front door. We’re starting as soon as I get home.”

#harry styles #harry styles au #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry edward styles #harry styles ff #harry styles smut #harry styles smutty fanfic #harry styles dirty fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles blurb #harry smut #fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #ceo!harry #ceo!harry styles #boyfriend!harry #boyfriend!harry styles #harry styles smutty blurb #boyfriend!harry styles x you #boyfriend!harry styles x y/n #boyfriend!harry styles x reader #harry styles angst #harry x you #harry x y/n #harry x reader

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐀 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐏𝐭.𝟏 | 𝐊.𝐇𝐉 ♡

【Synopsis】 : He couldn't help but think such filth when you were innocently fast asleep only merely a couple of feet away from him.

『Word count』 :  1.12k

-> Genre: Pure smut. Little plot. DBF.

Pairing: Dilf!Hongjoong x Park!Reader [Hwa's Daughter]

[Warnings] : Slightly Noncon (Reader is asleep at first). Masturbation. Cum play. Thoughts and fantasies. Pet names. Sir kinkish. Hongjoong is nasty. Also, Joong is like in his late 30s and tatted while the reader is only 23. Whoops.

Note: No one asked for this, but for some reason, I was hooked on the thought of the Dad's best friend trope, and Hongjoong is really coming for my heart. So, It was a perfect match in my eyes.

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You didn't know what came over yourself. It felt like the heating was turned up tenfold. Your nose scrunched as you began to move more and more in your sleep. Hongjoong couldn’t help but watch your discomfort in curiosity. Were you having a nightmare? No, you weren’t one to have them. But then again, maybe you just didn’t tell anyone. And being on a family trip in the middle of nowhere would cause distress.

Maybe I should wake her?… He thought, now sitting fully up on the pull-out couch bed. You were no longer tucked under the big fluffy covers on the single bed. No, you had thrown them off moments ago, revealing your mid-drift slightly from your short sleep top and the fact you weren't wearing any pants. God, you looked so cute in your black frilly panties…No, he couldn’t think of such a thing. Not when you were his best friend's daughter. 

But oh how you looked delicious. When he met Seonghwa, he had no clue he had a daughter, let alone one that was twenty-two. And when he agreed to go on this camping trip─more like staying in this large cabin on Seonghwa family’s land─he didn’t expect to see you tag along. You were stunning the moment he saw you hop out of your car. You were everything he would want in a woman and after spending hours of the day chatting and getting to know you he knew he was fucked. Anyone outside your conversations, like Seonghwa or his other friends and their kids, would see it as some harmless banter. But in reality, Hongjoong was shamelessly flirting. He didn’t mean it at first, but it just kept going, and you kept egging him on. So what was he supposed to do?

Since there were quite a lot of people that had come on the getaway, rooms were tight. And you had begged your father not to let you sleep in the rooms where the kids were cause you were certain one of San’s boys wanted more than innocent late-night chats… He ended up putting you in the same small study-turned-bedroom where there was a single bed and a double pull-out with Hongjoong. He originally offered to take the single, but you argued, saying his ‘old man back’ wouldn’t like it. He let you take it after that comment.

“J-joong…” you mumbled, almost inaudible. The older man's eyes snapped to your parted lips in a millisecond. Did you just say his name? No, he was definitely hearing things. “Joong, please.”

No, he definitely heard you that time. Your little panting, knitted brow, and soft moans. You weren’t having a nightmare. You were having a sex dream. And it was about him. God, did he wake up in another universe where everything went his way?! He ruffled his hair before rubbing his face in disbelief. He needed to hear you again, but as he took in your figure, he noticed you were now biting your lip, and your hips were jerking slowly. The pillow you were cuddling was tightly pressed up against your covered cunt in between your legs, and every little movement of your hips sent a shock of pleasure through your body.

You were humping your pillow at the thought of them while fast asleep.

He knew it was bad, but as his cock twitched for the millionth time he knew he needed to give himself some relief. And besides, you were sleeping, so you wouldn’t catch him only a couple of feet away from you, fucking his fists in time with your thrusts as your little moans carried out the nastiest fantasies his mind could conjure.... Right?

The thought of you laying out on his bed back at his penthouse. You're soaking on complete display as you beg him to hurry and touch you. He questions if you are a virgin, and if you were would you let him fuck you raw? Just the thought of slipping inside your tight virgin pussy while you tear up at his girth. He squeezed his cock tighter, staring at you intensely, he moved the sheets off himself, hissing slightly at the cool air hitting his hot angry tip. He needed more, he needed to hear his name spill from your mouth again. And it was as if the gods answered his prayers hearing you whimper, “P-please H-hongjoong.”

That was enough to tip him over the edge, speeding up his movements. He noticed the stutter in your hips. You were close to. He’d whisper to himself, “Let’s cum together baby. Cum all over my cock, fuuck.”

He wouldn’t be able to catch himself in time, splurting all over his hand, chest, and some dripping on his thigh. Fuck, he came so much. His eyes were shut, head leaning back against the backing of the couch. His heart was thumping in his ears so loudly he couldn’t even hear anything more. He was in complete ecstasy and peace. That was until he felt the bed dip, making his heart stop and eyes widen. “oh uh..I. um..” fuck, he was so fucked. You were sitting on the end of his bed, half asleep with the haziest expression while staring at his cock still tightly in his hand. His dick twitched, causing a groan, mostly from annoyance as he had been caught and he does even feel an ounce of guilt.

“D-did I cause t-that…” You said sweetly, so innocently. Could you get any more perfect?!

“I’m sorry angel, just go back to sleep, yeah…” He tucks himself back into his boxers, feeling his cum stick to the fabric which caused him to gag. He’s gonna have to slip out for a shower. But you didn’t budge as you took in his words. Instead, you pushed past any anxiety you had over the past days wondering whether Hongjoong liked you the same way, and moved closer to grab his hand that still had some of his cum on. You had woken up over five minutes ago before Hongjoong had creamed himself. His head was thrown back and he was in complete bliss and it caused you to cum just from the sight alone. “A-Angel…”

You didn’t let him speak another word as you placed two of his fingers in your mouth, swirling your tongue around them. Soaking them. And once they were wet enough, you pulled them out with an audible pop. Slowly, without breaking eye contact with the older male, you moved his hand down until those two wet fingers dipped into your completely ruined panties, letting him feel exactly how wet you were for him. They would slip so perfectly into your cunt causing you to sigh in relief, feeling so full just from his fingers alone. “Aren’t you gonna help me, sir.”

Hongjoong was done for.

—♡

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez reaction #ateez reactions #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #ateez scenario #ateez fanfiction #ateez x reader #ateez x female reader #ateez x reader smut #ateez fic #atz reactions #atz hongjoong #atz smut #atz fluff #atz drabbles #atz hard hours #atz imagines #atz scenarios #atz x reader #atz fanfic #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong #hongjoong #hongjoong scenarios #ja3hwa

[heytheredelulu]

I was wondering if you could do maybe a like feral Bucky? Like maybe they trigger the soldat and instead of him fallowing their orders he goes after the shy curvy little intern of Tony’s? They’ve both been too shy to make a move. I’m cool with whatever spin you put on it, I LOVE your writing.

(Love all your normal kinks so feel free to add those too as you see fit! )

Thank you lovely 🥰 Can’t wait to drool over more of your writing lol

I took this and RAN with it.

It ended up becoming much longer than I had anticipated so this one will be broken up into two parts.

I struggled with trying to incorporate Bucky being triggered after the reader already being somewhat aquatinted with him, pining after him, etc. so I went the route I did and I hope it fulfills your request!

Part one will be mostly just plot building with a spicy cliff hanger leading us into a part two of pure smut.

Ready to Comply - Part One - Anon Request

Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Reader

ALL OF MY WORK IS 18+

Word Count: 2.5k

C/W: Language, discussion/implications of violence and murder, choking, blood (Bucky is strugglin’ and bites his own hand), a lil sexual tension in prep for part two, he sniffs her coochie, okay?

“Okay, stop. Stop that.” Tony whispered out of the corner of his mouth. You shot him a glance and tugged at your skirt one more time for good measure. He lets out an exasperated sigh and rolls his eyes. “You look fine, Rookie. Very professional. Is that what you needed to hear?”

You scoff and shake your head. “That’s no- I’m not fishing for compliments, I genuinely hate dressing like a fucking secretary.” You grumble, drawing a laugh out of Tony. “And don’t call me ‘Rookie.’” You add with a prod to his chest. He brushes the front of his suit jacket sarcastically in response to your poke and raises his hands defensively, a soft chuckle rising from his throat.

“A fucking secretary? Really? It’s business professional. Did you think I could let you stand next to me in a press conference wearing an old t-shirt and some torn up jeans? We need to create a semblance of professionalism.” He gestures to his own attire with a grin and there’s a teasing glint in his eye as he continues.

“And what’s wrong with ‘Rookie’? You’re my little protégé.” He jests, reaching like he’s going to pinch your cheek as if you were some adorable little toddler. You frown, swatting his hand away and brings it to his chest, clutching it dramatically. “Wow, you’re going to assault your friend, mentor and extremely rich and handsome boss?” He jokes, feigning offense.

“The only accurate adjective in that sentence is ‘boss’, Sir.” You reply dryly, crossing your arms. The corners of his lips twitch into a sly smile and he nudges you with his elbow. “I’ll accept if you don’t agree with friend and mentor.” He starts, pressing his lips into a pout. “But I might actually get a little offended if you refuse to acknowledge how devastatingly handsome I am.”

You groan in annoyance and roll your eyes, preparing a witty comeback when Pepper Potts rounds the corner with a tablet cradled in her arm, a phone nestled between her ear and shoulder and an expression of concern written across her face.

“Everything alright?” Tony asks, placing a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Don’t tell me.. another offer for People’s ‘sexiest man alive’? I keep telling them, I can’t be on the cover every ye-“ Tony stops mid sentence as Pepper’s manicured forefinger lands on his lips, effectively silencing him.

“Yes. Okay. Understood. Thank you.” She says curtly into the phone before disconnecting the call. “That was Fury. We have an issue. A Barnes issue.”

Your brows furrow at this. “What’s happened with Bucky?” You ask, a sense of dread creeping up your spine. He’d been all but isolated since he’d moved into the Avenger’s tower alongside his best friend Steve Rogers and you couldn’t imagine him being the source of an issue with how reserved this man was. You weren’t at all oblivious to his past- it had been global wide news after all, but in the months since his de-conditioning in Wakanda he had been making great strides towards recovery, working to make amends.

Though your interactions with the ex-assassin had been few, he’d always been polite and kind towards you. You’d felt so out of place among the Avengers, being Tony’s intern. You weren’t on the team, hell, a few of them didn’t even know your name despite you having been trailing behind Tony for the last year. Maybe it was your own fault, considering you hadn’t really made an effort to talk to any of them but aside from the fact that they were all extremely intimidating, you were naturally a shy and quiet person.

You quickly push the self deprecating thoughts from your head. You didn’t care about any of that. You shouldn’t. It wasn’t as if you wanted to be on the team, or were there to make friends, you were here as an engineer, to learn from who was arguably the most intelligent man on the planet. Perhaps that’s why Bucky had always been cordial to you more than some of the others living here. Maybe he gravitated towards you, as someone who constantly felt so out of place, because he felt that way here as well.

Or maybe he thought you were cute.

Oh fuck, if only.

You couldn’t deny your attraction to the man or that you’d been quietly crushing on him practically since you’d started your internship. Every small interaction with Bucky left a blush on your cheeks and a kaleidoscope of butterflies flitting about your belly.

The thought of someone as absurdly good looking as Bucky fucking Barnes finding you attractive was enough to spark a surge of heat straight to your abdomen.

No, get it together. Now’s not the time.

You mentally scold your vagina for having the nerve to throb at the mere mention of Bucky Barnes regardless of the context and turn your attention back to Pepper and Tony as they argued in hushed whispers.

“What’s happened with Bucky?” You repeat, knowing they likely won’t clue you in if it’s related to Avenger’s business.

Tony offers a nervous smile and exchanges a quick glance with his wife before he checks his watch. “Terminator? He’s fine. I’m sure it’s nothing. Probably holed up with security for setting off the metal detector.” He pauses and then snaps his fingers. “Or maybe he walked past the junkyard on fifth and got snatched up by the hydraulic magnet.” He says, lifting a hand and miming a crane.

Pepper lets out a soft sigh and your gaze flicks to her. “Yeah, a big magnet or something.” She mumbles, turning her attention back to her tablet. “I don’t think that’s-“ Your cut off by Tony’s hand on the small of your back, urging you forward. “Enough about Robocop. We’re on, Rookie.” He says, his nervous expression falling away and quickly being replaced with a mask of professionalism. “Let’s go unveil our project to the press.” Pepper moves to open the door for you both and before you can open your mouth to tell Tony that if he calls you ‘rookie’ one more time you were going to strangle him with his overpriced tie, your senses are overwhelmed with an onslaught of overlapping voices and camera shutters.

You toss your blazer over the desk in your quaint office and slump over into the chair, trying not to let your mind run wild with anxious thoughts about the press conference. Despite your best efforts you couldn’t help but worry that you probably looked like a deer in headlights up at the podium alongside Tony.

You huff and rest your chin on the back of your hand, glancing over at the computer screens. Your attention is immediately drawn to security footage from one of the conference rooms when you see movement on the monitor. You lean in with your brows furrowed. It’s late and no one should be in the conference room. You expand the image and can clearly make out Tony and Steve moving about the room with tense body language.

You hover over the footage with your mouse and hesitate. You know that you absolutely should not eavesdrop on the two men but once Tony’s hands begin angrily gesturing around you give in to temptation and turn on the audio.

“What the hell do you mean, ‘back up?’” Tony shouts, beginning to pace the room.

Steve leans forward with his palms on the table and his head bowed slightly. “It’s exactly what I said, Tony.” He replies, his biceps flexing as he grips the table. “HYDRA had a fail safe. They’d planted a back up activation incase he would ever manage to be deprogrammed.” He looks up at Tony with a solemn expression. “They got to him. I should’ve been there, I should’ve-“

Tony holds out a hand, his other resting against his temple as he tries to comprehend what Steve is telling him. “Well you weren’t and they did so know we have to figure out how the fuck we navigate this.” He says firmly, shaking his head. “Do we have eyes on him? Is he in the building?”

Steve sighed and stood upright from the table. “No. He’s in the wind. We lost contact with him a few hours ago.” He admits, running a hand through his hair. “But there’s something you need to know.” He adds, looking at Tony with concern as he begins to pace again.

“Well spit it out, Rogers!” Tony yells, stopping and turning back to Steve.

“Nat received some intel. The hit HYDRA ordered is on you and your intern.” He says so quietly you can barely pick it up on the audio. Fear crawls up your spine and your hand trembles as you increase the volume on the security feed, while your heartbeat in your ears becomes near deafening.

Tony stiffens, slowly approaching Steve. “You wanna tell me why?” He asks, his voice low and dangerous. Steve nods. “The new tech you unveiled today.“ He explains.

Tony sighs, understanding why one of their enemies would be threatened by what the two of you had been working on and reaches to loosen his tie. “I’ll take Pepper and move her to the safe house before I meet you at a rendezvous point. Send someone to get my Rookie and get her off the grid. I don’t want her alone for a single second.” He says in an exasperated tone, reaching into his suit jacket and pulling out his cell phone as he stalks towards the door.

“And Rogers?” He asks, turning around one last time, his hand curled tight around the doorknob. Steve’s head snaps up and he looks at Tony with guilt ridden eyes. “Yeah?”

“Find Barnes.”

Find Barnes.

The statement echoes in your ears, sending your thoughts spinning as if a category five hurricane were waging inside your head.

No. No, no, no.

There’s a hit out on you?

To be carried out by the fucking Winter Soldier.

Oh you were so fucked.

You scoot your chair back, bracing your hands on the desk to stand with wobbly knees.

Bile rises in your throat as you take a slow step backwards, bumping the chair in your state of panic and knocking your jacket off the workbench. You jump at the sound of it slipping to the floor and clutch your chest as a result of inducing your own jumpscare and take slow breaths to steel your nerves before you bend down to pick it up. As you rise back upright, your gaze connects with a pair of vacant, icy blue eyes in the shadows across the room and your entire body seizes in terror.

He’s not in the wind.

He’s been in here with you this entire goddamned time.

“B-Bucky?” You stutter, bringing your jacket to your chest and grasping it until your knuckles turn white. Maybe Steve and Tony were wrong. Maybe Nat’s intel was wrong. Maybe this was all a huge misunderstanding and you weren’t about to die at the hands of the ex-assassin you’ve been pining over for nearly a year.

He takes a step forward from the shadows, his face expressionless and his eyes unblinking without a single trace of emotion behind them.

Okay, yeah. You’re fucked.

“Sergeant Barnes?” You whisper, almost a plea to the man you knew, locked away somewhere in the brain of the cold and calculated killer standing in front of you.

He doesn’t speak, doesn’t register your words, as he crosses the lab in a few quick strides and catches your throat in his cybernetic hand.

Oh god.

The air leaves your lungs, his grip tightening around your windpipe as his face remains blank.

You’re going to die.

So why are you so fucking turned on?

Heat pools low in your abdomen, your core flooding with arousal, coupled with fear and unbridled lust.

Your mouth falls open in a silent cry as you gasp and thrash in his grip, your thick thighs rubbing together with every kick and flail, doing nothing to alleviate the throbbing ache in your cunt.

God this is so wrong.

His brows furrow, the first hint of emotion since he stepped out of the shadows. His head tilts inquisitively and his grip slackens around your throat as he leans in, tracing his nose across your jaw line and inhaling deeply. You still, your face contorting in confusion as you swallow hard against his palm, leaning your body into his hold.

His eyes narrow as he pulls away from you and you take the opportunity to suck in a breath, massaging your neck gently while your gaze drops to observe his hands clenching and unclenching into fists at his sides.

“Bucky?” You ask, wondering what’s caused the sudden shift in his demeanor, wondering if maybe he’s somehow snapped out of the trance he’d been in. He’s still and silent for a long moment, his head bowed as his chest rises and falls heavily with every breath.

“Sergeant Barnes, are yo-“

His head snaps up, effectively silencing you.

Your mouth remains agape, stuck on your last word and as he watches you with predatory eyes, taking menacing steps toward you, you can’t seem to find your voice any longer. You stumble backwards, losing your balance and falling back against the desk, unable to regain your footing before his hands grip the flesh of your bare thighs.

He tilts you backwards, your back colliding hard with the surface of the desk, stealing the breath out of your chest. He drops to his knees, splaying his palms against your thighs, the hem of your dress rising up to expose your panties as he spreads your legs wide before him and drags his nose across the fabric.

He groans.

He fucking groans.

“You’re my mission.” He breathes out, eyes wild and fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as if he were fighting to physically restrain himself.

“I know.” You whimper, lifting your head to look down at him over the soft curve of your stomach.

“I’ve been ordered to kill you.” He chokes out, pressing his forehead against your inner thigh and drawing in a deep and shuddering breath.

“Then why haven’t you?” You ask in a broken whisper.

He turns his head and mumbles something incoherently, his breath ghosting against the damp fabric of your underwear and sending a wave of arousal crashing through your core. He stiffens, curling his flesh hand into a fist and bringing it to his mouth, biting down on his knuckles as he swallows back a moan.

He shakes his head, his teeth pressing into his skin hard enough to draw blood and you move to sit up, leaning on your palms as you look down at him where he’s slotted between your legs, visibly trembling.

He rises quickly to his feet, his left hand shooting out to curl around your neck again and he drops his bloodied flesh hand to his side.

“Because..” He says through clenched teeth, inhaling sharply as the cool metal of his thumb strokes the column of your throat.

“I can’t fucking focus when all I can smell-“

His free hand roughly cups your pussy over your panties, his voice trailing off as he kneads his palm against the thin, wet fabric.

He growls, tightening his grip around your throat and jerking you up to him, forcing you to meet his threatening gaze.

His expression grows pained and he whimpers, dipping his head to meet your forehead with his own, his breath fanning across your face with every heave of his chest.

“All I can smell is how wet you are.”

Taglist (Taglist is open):

@suz7days @blackbirdwitch22 @truthfulliarr @lilacka

Part two

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #winter soldier fanfiction #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #winter soldier x plus size reader #avengers fanfiction

[bugunlikeanangel]

reading the very very few reviews or even mentions of the novel im studying rn and im glad im not the only one who thought What The Fuck Is This Shit

#there are good points to it and the characters are interesting #but there is so much ott poetic description and so little plot that im slogging through #so great to get a quarter way through the book and have almost nothing happen #but oh boy i get a descriptive mention of a puddle of dog piss (literal) #in small amounts it would be charming #but theres just... so much of it #its just descriptions of everything around and brief moments of emotional intelligence amongst the fluff #even the author was like. the books plot is held together by chicken wire. and that is not a good thing sir #i get to meet the author irl too bc of class lmao im cry laughing i will definitely pretend to like his work but like #omg

[ashersanity]

— “IT’S ALL IN THE FAMILY.”

— summary. because you — you stupid little fuck, should have known better than to assume the worst out of this sick family you’ve been unwillingly forced into from your parents unfaithful divorce. well, guess what? you were fucking right, and now — you only have yourself to blame, baby brother.

— content warning! incest, step-cest, dub-con at best, non-con at worst, brief mentions of bullying and violence, alcohol intoxication, manipulation, big brother whitney being a creep, whiny little sister kylar, daddy bailey being bailey, loser male reader, semi-forced blow job, cream pie, shit writing, no editing, no nothing and shittier plot with two disconnected scenes, went a little overboard with kylar. a little. a second part to this mess can be found here — and third part here.

— word count? wait, you guys count the fucking words and don’t raw dog it in the notes app? like, real long, I guess. I mean, fucking long.

— asher’s note. “I did it purely for the sister fucking. @princesstokyomoon kept encouraging the filthy thoughts so I had to churn something out. something filthy — and I mean fucking disgusting shit, y’know?”

Divorces papers hastily signed away, the ink dotted onto the lines promising that this was indeed reality along with leathered suitcases packed to the brim. Family problems never were easy, much less when it had all happened far too quickly. To your parents separating, the familiar grip of your mother’s hand stringing you far away from the house you had grew up in, it all seemed like one bad dream. Unfortunately it wasn’t, no. This was the harsh reality of things, hands clasped on your shoulders as you were forced to introduce yourself to the man she had vowed to marry and the children he bore.

Fuck, if only your mother hadn’t remarried.

“This is stupid.” You muttered beneath your breath to which your mother, sharp as ever had somehow heard.

“Oh please, this is necessary. Unless you wish for us to keep on living in that cramped apartment? I am only doing what is needed for us to survive.” She sharply retorted back, not leaving much room to argue with as it was the truth. Your lives had been much more difficult since the divorce, selfish father that took everything else with him and went away to god-knows-where, probably off to spend it all in one go at the sleazy brothel in town. Filthy bitch.

Yes, it had been hard, but if you had been given one more year, finished school for real, graduated and got a job — Perhaps then, you would’ve been able to provide for the two of you and—

“Why don’t you introduce yourself, dear?”

Breaking out of your reverie, you had faintly registered then that you had arrived into this overly large establishment your mom referred to as your new home. Standing before you was probably the man she had fussed about so much during the uneventful drive. Dark, slicked back hair and stern eyes that dragged over your lips down to the curve of your throat, almost as if to criticize. His outstretched arm and hand stuck out waiting, that was probably for yours to shake which you reluctantly did.

“It’s nice to meet you, sir..?” You uttered coolly, enduring the firm grasp he had on your fingers till he finally was the first to pull away.

“Bailey.”

“Bailey.” You repeated back the unfamiliar name as if to slowly get used to it, knowing you wouldn’t.

“Whitney, Kylar, come down here and properly greet your brother.”

One boy — you assumed to be Whitney, a little older than you, stood at the top of the oaky staircase, perched over the banister. Ruffled blonde hair and sharp blue eyes hidden behind his fringe, eyeing you with disinterest as he made his way down the creaking steps and over to you.

“Nice to meet you.” He grinned, taking ahold of your hand in his with what was evidently a faux smile, one that didn’t quite reach his mean eyes that matched his father, a lingering streak of maliciousness in them. Even his grip, barely restrained in its force, threatened to crush your hand before ultimately letting go.

“You too.” Forcing a smile back, both of you knew then, the stifling tension that brewed in the air — Neither of you were going to get along here.

“Hey freak, its your turn.”

Another, you had barely noticed, a smaller girl scuffling about in the background, anxiously fiddling with the ends of her oversized sleeves, skittish green eyes purposefully avoiding your gaze whenever you so much as glanced her way. That must be the only daughter, Kylar. Cute thing she was, though your mind couldn’t allow yourself to continue that stray thought any further considering the implications that’d involve after meeting your soon-to-be-step-sister. Fucking get your mind straight, will you?

“P-Pleasure to meet you..” In contrast to her brother’s confident strides, she shuffled towards you before clasping your soft palms together in a hold, weakly shaking it.

“..Pleasure is all mine.” You replied, matching her weirdly formal way of speaking.

Well, she didn’t seem so bad compared to the rest.

The introduction didn’t last very long, lacking any real warmth usually found between two shared families merging together as one. It felt more stiff than anything though you couldn’t spare the thought to think it any further, an ushered murmur said to make yourself at home.

As you made your way over to your new room, hauling your hefty luggage up the wooden stairs, something within the depths of your guts stirred from the shared eyes that bore into the shape of your back, intently observing your every move.

The walls here felt unbearably bare.

Like the people that lived in it.

Ironically enough, your new room was much bigger than your older one, leaving little room to complain as you did when your mother had announced you’d be moving into a new place. All the reasons, no matter how good had earned nothing but a gentle shake of her head, dead set on her decision to drag you along. And to say you hadn’t even told Robin you’d be moving away, best friends since childhood that shared everything between the two, except for this apparently. Imagining his freckled face, worry etched across his features had you wanting to go back to the town you knew, knowing you couldn’t.

Sighing lowly, you sat down onto your bed, hearing the slightest crinkle beneath your weight as you felt an uncomfortable, sharp lump underneath it. That.. Reaching for the covers, you threw aside the thick blankets that covered the suspicious looking lump, revealing fresh packets of condoms haphazardly scattered across the sheets and an old, raunchy magazine displaying a cute-looking school boy getting brutally fucked against the lockers by his own bully.

Heat burned your face at the lewd sight, quickly shoving your little “gift” under your pillow so you couldn’t spare another glance at it. Fucking bastards and their sick jokes, “gifting” you shit like that.

You weren’t like them. Fucking perverts.

Were you?

Whitney was the first to change that.

From the first time he laid his eyes on you, you knew then what he thought of you, distaste apparent over his features, the slight curve of his upper lip curled into a snarl. It was obvious, your step-brother didn’t like you. Shit, maybe hate would be a more appropriate word for the things he’d do. Whitney had made it clear from the get-go, the empty names you’d call each other were utterly meaningless, rarely slipping past his own lips. ‘Little brother’. Fuck, you were a pain in his side more than anything else, dropping by unannounced into his life just like that simply because your shitty mother happened to divorce, meeting his dead beat father who then strung up with yours.

The blonde didn’t attempt to hide his obvious disapproval of your presence in his house, blatantly knocking his shoulder into yours whenever he passed by, mouth cruelly drawn into a snide grin as you toppled down to the cold, hard, wooden floor with a dull thud. The bullying didn’t stop there either, often encountering the delinquent in the school hallways, surrounded by his usual cronies that stuck to his side like a bunch of desperate, panting puppies, eager for his approval. They simply wouldn’t leave you alone, went through your damn locker too, ransacking everything that sat in there before carelessly throwing aside the remnants into a nearby trash bin, left to fend for yourself.

Weak, useless. That’s what you were to him, and nothing else. Soon enough, he’d get rid of you, have you snap and run away, it was merely a matter of time.

Well, that was the initial plan he had made up in his mind — Too fucking bad for the poor bully that life didn’t go always as planned, not when he caught you fresh out of the shower, worn towel snugly tucked around yours hips, a bit lower and he’d catch a glimpse of your— Fucking snap out of it, Whitney! The fresh droplets of water that’d trickle down the curve of your back, cascading over the smooth surface before gently dripping onto the fuzzy carpet below. Fuck. Didn’t help that he was staring a tad bit too hard, forcing himself to tear his gaze away from your bare form shamelessly displayed before him. You were doing this on purpose, weren’t you? Tryna get him all distracted, fill his thoughts with nothing but your thighs sticky with his cum, your lips lightly parted to obediently suck on his fat cock, lapping away at the beads of pre-cum that trickled over the curved length.

Knew he had cracked the second his hand had reached for his cock, fisting his dick for all it was worth, hem of his shirt roughly held between his teeth as he jerked himself stupid to the thought of you. His annoying little brother, fucking bitch, oblivious to the effects you had on him whenever he came with a stifled curse, several strings of cum that’d messily splatter across the curve of his toned stomach and his cotton sheets, staining it.

You, of course, lay ignorant to his frequent glances trailing over your frame, mistaking it for the hostility he had shown you over the past few weeks. You were partially right, except this time it was out of frustrated lust, cock stirring beneath his ripped jeans at the mere sight of his younger sibling now. God, not even the dumb whores that’d sloppily suck him off in the grimy bathroom stalls between classes did it for him anymore, eyes shut in a haze to imagine it was your mouth instead wrapped around the tip of his cock.

Dumb slut. Dumb fucking slut you were, didn’t know what he had in store for you. Take it as payback from having infested his mind with thoughts of you that stray to other thoughts and to other.. that’d eventually end in the same scenario, fucking your slutty mouth wide open.

Yeah.. Actually having you choke down on his cock didn’t sound half-bad now that he thought about it.

So why not make it happen?

It had been a mistake then to accept his offer over drinks, get to know each other better, he had cheerfully claimed with a friendly arm wrapped around your shoulder. Bullshit. Think he gave a shit about that? The only ache in his mind had gone straight down to his slowly hardening cock underneath his grey sweats as his plan was brought into motion, insistently pouring more and more of his friends stolen bottle into your cup until you had lost track of the exact number. Prideful as ever, you had gulped it all down, unrelenting despite the nausea that had crept in your guts and the dizzying blur of your vision.

A hint of a rosy flush had started to spread throughout your skin, lightly dusting your cheeks with half-lidded eyes intently gazing back at your older brother’s slouched form atop the cushioned couch. The dribbling liquid sloshed lazily in the glassy bottle that threatened to spill from your weakened grasp on it. TV faintly flickering in the background, playing some outdated show that had since long been forgotten by the two of you, leaving the remote abandoned on the coffee table.

“Cmon, don’t be such a baby.” Whitney would taunt whenever you hesitated in your sluggish movements, silently observing the rhythmic bobbing of your throat as you took quick shots from your half-full glass. Lightweight, he mused in his mind.

“I’m not a baby.” You retorted back with that fucking cute pouty expression he adored.

Fuck. That’s the look. That goddamn look of yours he was waiting for. Nothing better than some arrogant slut all fucked up, practically begging to be taken on his own fucking couch.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever you say.”

“Whitney?” Shit, the way you’d call his name all whiny too, slipping past your own lips. Had his cock twitch like fucking hell, painfully aching between his spread legs.

“Hm? What is it?”

“Why are you so mean to me all the time?? What did I ever.. What did I ever do to you?? I—I just don’t get it.” You hiccuped pathetically, stumbling over your own words, already half-drunk from the fizzling alcohol in your system.

Ah, so you didn’t seem to get it at all yet, did you?

How cute.

“‘Cuz I wanna fuck your noisy mouth, that’s why.”

“..What?”

Blinking back at him, you didn’t even get the chance to register or mutter out another word before he was upon you. Knees firmly planted to each side, increasingly aware of his encompassing frame that towered overs yours as his clothed crotch faced your drunken expression. If it had been any other time, perhaps the blonde would’ve paused then to greedily drink in the sight before him, but this was Whitney after all and he never liked to waste time on silly notions like foreplay, preferring the rougher options that came along with it.

So, fuck it all, right?

With practiced ease, he hurriedly shucked down the elastic waistband of his grey sweats past his hips, hefty cock confidently springing free from the constricting confines of the cotton fabric as it lightly smacked against the curve of his bare stomach. Fuck, you haven’t had the slightest idea how long he had waited for this. Merely a matter of a few weeks for you, though for him, your older brother was dying to sink his dick in that whorish mouth of yours. Looked like you’ve never taken a real cock either, snugly shoved down to the hilt of your inexperienced throat that he’d train till it became a sixth sense to you, gratefully swallowing down his salty cum.

Calloused fingertips tenderly dragged along the swollen flesh of your bottom lip, bloodied cut reopening from the time the bully had split your face open on his fists for the whole school to see in the busied courtyard on a particularly rainy day. Licked his knuckles clean too after that rough beating you took, savouring the heady taste of the crimson mess you left behind, groaning all the while. Had him stupidly hard for the rest of the day, itching to relieve some tension once he got back home. Great times, really.

Now would’ve been the time then, probably— to sputter out your firm opposition over this, resist somewhat. Maybe kick the motherfucker in the balls, satisfyingly watch him writhe on the floor in agony before scrambling up the ancient staircase to hysterically yell about how you nearly got raped by your aforementioned step-brother, to your dozing mother. Christ, that would’ve been the sane decision to do then yet, the bubbling drinks coursing through your veins had thoroughly taken its effect on you, blood rushing down lower to the wrong region, the sinking realization nearly making you bolt upright.

Fucking fuck, you were hard.

And Whitney hadn’t failed to notice.

“Shit, are you getting hard from this?” The delinquent snickered hoarsely to himself, making a show to lightly tap at the growing bulge underneath your own jeans, all too visible despite the rough fabric that covered it. “Should’ve known you’d be into it. Your body speaks for itself, y’know. You want this, you cock whore craving slut.”

No, no. This was all wrong. Must’ve been. You liked girls, didn’t you? Squishy cunts and fat tits you could easily slip your cock into — god. Didn’t like guys and if you did, your step-brother who treated you like nothing but shit would’ve been last on the fucking list.

But you secretly do like being used this way, don’t you? Baby brother.

“I’m n-not fucking—“ Attempting to deny the harsh statement, you cut yourself off from the sudden intruding tip eagerly pressed against your lips, flushed cock head leaking thickly and smearing sticky pre-cum all over.

It wasn’t an order nor anything else that hung heavily in the air, a simple gesture, a subtle thrust of his hips that had his actions speak louder than any words would’ve been capable of. Either you do it or not, the delinquent couldn’t have cared less regardless, always used to getting what he wants and by god, if he wasn’t going to fucking get this. Because the signals alarmingly ringing through your head felt faint in the face of this, shakily inhaling the musky scent of your big brother’s throbbing cock subtly twitching in response to your feathered breaths against it, dribbling out more translucent pre-cum that melded with the scarlet stain of your bloodied lips.

Out of your damn mind — That’s what you were. To even properly consider the implication at hand here. Yet your lips won’t stop from parting, from sticking your pink tongue out, clumsily imitating the gestures of those submissive girls in the cheap porns you’d watch underneath your thin covers late at night, shamefully enough. Always thought you’d be on the receiving end of that one day, dutifully patting at the soft hair slotted between your thighs however here you were, shyly pawing at Whitney’s naked hips instead to steady yourself.

All your fault, all your damn fault so shut up and take it, alright? Shouldn’t have led him on like that, now you’re only reaping what you sow, slut.

A delighted sigh softly escaped from the blonde as you finally gave his dick some much needed attention, experimentally running the flat of your tongue along his leaking slit, coaxing out more dribbling fat globs of pre-cum before slowly and carefully taking his full girth in the warm depths of your tight, wet mouth. “Ah— Fuck. Yeah, that’s good.” No way can he hide the barely restrained, high-pitched, almost needy whimper that threatens to slither past him as you so prettily suck him down to the base, slobbering all over his throbbing balls that has him huffing out a cursed moan of satisfaction, eyes rolling back. “F-Fuckin’— god.” Can’t help the sheer guttural groan that slips out from how tightly his baby brother’s virgin lips sweetly glide around him, the uncertainty in your movements making it all the more endearing as you struggle to take him all in, saliva dripping over your chin to land in varying wet dots on the cushioned pillows. Looking so damn pretty like this with a mouthful of cock, your big brother’s pulsing cock specifically. So don’t blame him then when his hips automatically snap back, slender fingers instinctively reaching for the back of your head to entangle themselves through the soft strands of your hair, ruffling it.

Felt more like he was plainly fucking your mouth than you were sucking him off, sharp, punishing thrusts meeting your open mouthed lips to drive himself deeper in that warm throat that reflexively tightened around his length whenever he hit a particularly sensitive spot — drawing another string of adorable, strangled whimpers from you. “Shit, you sure this your first time? You’ve got the mouth of a — hah, fuckin’ filthy glory hole.” Heat prickling up the nape of your neck at the direct statement uttered, the brief realization of your inexperience being taken away like this, from a blowjob. On the giving end. A first, that will mostly likely not be the only first after this, not when you’re unconsciously getting off to the thought for more in store despite your haze filled brain begging you to reason. Ah, fuck. He’s gone and got you stupidly cock drunk now, didn’t he? The bastard. Slurred mutterings tumbling out above you, almost hasty in how he handles you, wanting to truly savor this never-ending moment when his body can’t stop on its own, too eager to be fulfilled of this yearning pleasure he sought out from you firstly. Thankful for your lack of gag reflex that somehow has you forcefully endure the ruthless slam of his hips, struggling grip straining onto his thighs to brace yourself, promising to leave a fresh set of bruising marks on the tanned flesh.

“Gon’ be my lil’ cockwhore, huh? My fuckin’ slut. Goin’ to be so good for— fuck, big brother, yeah?” If treating you so obscenely like this grants him the privilege to have you beneath him, so stupidly on your knees then, fuck, is it goddamn worth it. Every multicoloured bruise splotched along the length of your legs to your elbows, inflicted from his unfortunate beatings took on at every turn. The cold indifference muddled across your features warping to an earnest scowl from simply acknowledging his presence alone, precisely what he wants. To finally recognize your older brother, the churning fear instilling within you, forced to submit to him and worship him rightfully so.

It’ll be more than that though, the sick realization dawning upon him of this opportunity handed to him on a silver plater, free of his taking, of course. Not some other replaceable slut he can find anywhere else by chance, but one forcefully bound to him whether they like it or not since what can you possibly do? Come running with tears in your eyes to your mommy about what your big, mean, older brother did to you? His father will certainly not be one to help you for that matter, that’s for damn sure. Who the hell will believe you then? No one. Fucking nobody. Inadvertently handing him free range to do whatever he so pleases with you, whenever, where the fuck ever. Oh, but it won’t only stop there, y’know. Ruining you fully for the sake of his own selfish pleasure, corrupt that naive view of yours that has you blush bashfully at a bunch of lewd illustrations plastered onto the printed pages. Soon enough, the majority of your days will be lazily spent in his room, leaking cock dribbling profusely from the kitten licks you’ll so cutely give him then while he absentmindedly scrolls on his phone, grinning proudly as you inevitably beg for more of him. And shit, Whitney isn’t one to disappoint either — he’ll have you rightfully rewarded for such behaviour, in public to be exact. Clip a nice, leathered collar around your neck along with a leash too, tug at it a bit to show off his newfound pet, his loyal little brother that sloppily sucks him off and happily sinks onto his hefty cock at a mere snap of his fingers. Drives him fuckin’ crazy merely thinking about it.

That’s right, suck on your big brother’s fat cock to selfishly earn his twisted love, his blind adoration and protection of your being. His pet. His slut. His beloved baby brother. His now blood, flesh and soul tainted thoroughly by him himself. Personally service him on your knees like the whore that he knows you are. Fucking get on your knees and earn it.

All too soon, despite wanting to stretch this further solely to ingrain the addictive noises of your stifled whimpers and drooling mouth inside his perverted mind, visibly struggling to take him all in as he shamelessly used your throat like some sort of flesh light stretched to the hilt — He can feel himself reach the brink of his limit, confident hips stuttering in their steady thrusts to greedily bury the tip of his quivering cock into the back of your throat one last time. “F-Fuck. Stay like that — just fucking stay like that.” He hissed sharply between strained curses, head thrown back like some cheap virgin whore who’s just received his first ever mind blowing blow job. The familiar overwhelming heat curling in the curve of his belly, like a coiling string on the verge of popping. Balls tightening in need, pulsing spurts of his fat load squirting out of the head of his cock to messily splatter across the surface of your pretty fucking face, ruining you for his own amusement.

Should’ve busted his load down your throat just to hungrily watch you swallow it down, though he supposes that the cum stained look adorning your pretty face is a sight to behold on its own, taking a good minute to appreciate the mess before him.

A blank, pristine canvas that he had helped ruin and stain with the filth of his very own actions.

It suits you, really.

“That’s a — hah, good boy.” Whitney heaved roughly between ragged breaths, the uncharacteristically gentle praise laced in his tone differing from his usually sadistic nature. If it weren’t for the sticky mess that obscured your vision along with the heat of his sweating palm placed flat across your forehead, you’d notice the strange fond, warmth that had settled into his softening gaze, a sort of reverence in of itself. “My good fucking boy.”

“So good for big brother, aren’t you?” He smirks knowingly at your hitched gasps of breaths, struggling so stupidly to form back a snarky insult as per usual.

Ah, he gets it now — really fucking gets it, glazed over eyes settling onto your evidently hard, twitching cock still tented pitifully against the front of your jeans, frantically humping at the air like some sort of rabid, horny and untrained puppy in heat, tongue lolling out. Aw, so fuckin’ cute when you’re cock drunk and needy for big brother. Makes him wanna do it all over again.

For that, he should be properly training you then.

“Whitney— fuckin’ cmon, please.” Whining so pathetically in a way that sends a jolt straight down through his spent cock, immediately standing up to attention once more. You’re really asking for it, fuck.

So damn cute, but so impatient too. Maybe he should fuck your virgin ass next, stuff it full of his cum and see what happens to that bratty mouth of yours then. Shut you up a bit.

“Yeah, yeah. I got it. Just— keep still for me.”

Well, can’t be having his little new pet go frustratingly neglected like that, can he?

—

Kylar, your precious little sister, all too eager to be the first, but the second to sink her mark into you. Convince you a bit more.

Needy as she was, she wasn’t as bad as the rest that inhabited this sick place you reluctantly called home, a flicker of warmth among the distant coldness that resided in this house. Much unlike her brother, the dark haired girl didn’t seem to dislike you in the slightest, often shooting you the smallest of smiles whenever you two briefly locked eyes at the dinner table or in the shared hallways by mere coincidence.

‘Course, she did have her questionable moments whenever you caught her rifling through your drawers, namely the ones where your underwear lay neatly folded in the cubicle space. Promptly muttering out an unbelievable excuse as to why she needed your boxers before bolting past your stunned self, red in the face. Or that time she had decided to curl up onto your bed, lovingly burying her nose into the warm, silken sheets that you slept in, relishing in that sweet scent of yours she’d catch a whiff of as you drew closer next to her at the table.

..Yeah, she certainly had unresolved issues, but it beat the constant poking fun at that Whitney would do. The rough shoving into the metallic lockers that’d clank heavily from your weight, the shared snickering that came along with it and the forced blow jobs that you had somehow eased into over time despite yourself. Fuck, why were you even thinking of that asshole?

Freak or not, she didn’t harbour any of the senseless cruelty this town had to selflessly offer and that was good enough. Enough so that you had found yourself increasingly spending more and more of your time with Kylar whenever you weren’t forcibly dragged along to some shoddy place your big brother roped you into, leaving the loner to her own whims for the day.

So it was no surprise then when the two of you grew closer, a little more than you had expected so to be the one sat onto her worn out bed, her hideaway — she’d call it, a moment of respite from the constant teasing she had to go through from her older brother. A means of escape, perhaps? And for you, it was no different either, all the same. Gladly listening to her overexcited rambling about this and that, about the fine mangas she had newly bought at the local, dusty library, the half priced anime figurines she had found on display beyond the glassy windows that separated them — matching pearly bracelets made of shiny gems and rocks carefully picked at the park she’d sow together to gleefully tuck around your wrist, whining sorrowfully at her own being too loose for her delicate wrists. Cute. Your little sister was real fucking cute, more so than you’d like to admit at times.

So much so you couldn’t ignore the growing knots in the pit of your stomach whenever your knees fortuitously bumped against each other, a sign — a silent, repetitive warning of your shared proximity that was crossing past the treacherous line of two mere siblings. Yeah. Okay. So you found her cute, so what? Big fucking deal. Plenty of guys found a girl cute, didn’t mean jack shit, didn’t mean they wanted to fuck her till she clenched pathetically around them, sniffling miserably at being fucked brutally by their kind, soft-spoken big brother they naively put their trust into. Right, that’s what you were. Nothing more. A responsible big brother she could certainly put her faith into since her other piece of shit brother couldn’t bother with that shitty role, something you’d curse him for on the daily. One she could seek out at a moment’s notice, spend time with to her heart’s content like a normal, unsuspecting relationship between siblings should be.

Not some perverted creep of a big brother who’d steal periodic glances her way, instinctively trailing down to the soft, plump and pink flesh of her parted lips, glistening sinfully from the wetness of her saliva — a habit she unconsciously did despite claiming not to. Gulping thickly, you hadn’t registered how her seamless chatter had ceased to a stop, deafening silence befalling upon the both of you as you stared at each other like some sort of stiff actors awaiting for the next act on stage. Wait, were you staring? Fuck, you were — and she hadn’t failed to notice by the looks of it, blooming flush adorning her pretty, pale cheeks you’d like to press gentle, reassuring kisses to, squeeze under the weight of your palm. Maybe have her spill a few stray droplets of tears across the rosy surface while you’re at it, make her cry the same way Whitney did.

Oh, you’re such a fucking bastard for this one.

“W-What is it? Do I have something on my face?” Her sudden squeak had you stilling in your tracks, twisting the spread sheets without meaning to from the timid pitch of her shrill voice. Look at her, trying to hide behind her torn sleeves in an attempt to draw attention away from her bashful blush, becoming a fidgeting mess under your gaze.

Fuck, no. It was more than that, Kylar. It was the pout of your lips that you wore, the black strands of hair that frames your face so beautifully, the exposed sliver of skin of your thighs from that short skirt you slipped on. It was all you, but dammit all — fuck.

“Hm? No, it’s nothing — really.” Liar. Drawing back to create a manageable amount of space between you both, a reminder not to act upon those disgusting urges of yours, better not to. Bad idea to be thinking with your dick, no man’s ever made a reliable decision with that one. Even so, Whitney did it with you and — nothing particularly bad happened, did it? Would it be so wrong, if you were to do the same? Selfishly grasp for what you so dangerously desire, drop meaningless hints here and there to care for her wants, such a gentler option than any other boy could ever treat your dearest little sister?

Would it?

Too lost in your endless train of thoughts, your eyes connecting with Kylar’s green own that bore with such intensity you hadn’t seen before, almost as if contemplating — no, waiting for something to happen. Though you couldn’t tell what it was, her actions were enough so to speak on their own with how she shifted considerably towards you, used mattress dipping from the creaking weight over the wooden floorboards. Ah, was she..?

“Ky—?”

Before your mind was even fully given the chance to process it, like the leap taken before the shuddering dip of a waterfall, her inexperienced, virgin lips clumsily smashed into yours, knocking the wind out of the both of you from the abrupt step taken by your little sister. Sweet. So sweet. Pink tongue tentatively swiping along the scarlet cut of your bottom lip, ushered gasps accompanied by startled squeaks as she timidly gave you what she thought was a simple kiss, but felt more like a pornographic make out session with how she so desperately shoved her tongue deeper. More. Wants more of this, more of that honeyed taste she yearned to savour, to finally enjoy while her other dumb brother so greedily took you away every time she wished to be the one at your side instead. It wasn’t fair, not fair at all! He’s so mean, so why does he get to string you along whenever he so pleases? Should be her, only be her to fill that solemn space. Only her, only her—

“W-Wait, wait— Kyl— fuck.”

As if struck by the weight of what she had just done, the loner recoiled back instantly in a fit of panic from the sheer brashness of her actions. Oh, how could she let herself so easily fall to such temptations? What if you hated her now? Or worse, were repulsed by the kiss? Wouldn’t be able to live it down then, quivering lips and bubbling tears threatening to spill freely down the length of her flushing cheeks from her overactive imagination running rampant — because she’d rather die than to have you loathe her so.

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to— umm.. I thought that maybe you.. wanted me to—“ The girl stuttered uselessly, trailing off in an aimless direction only to shrink back in her unbecoming position. Silence only answered her in return which she took as the harsh reality of rejection, mustering up all the courage she possibly had in her lithe frame to at the very least subtly peek at the current expression painted along your face. Would it be anger? Disgust? Disappointment even? Surely if you hated it that much, you’d have plainly kicked her right off the bed by now, right? Storm out in a fit of shock and never so much as glance her way again.

The sight to greet her instead wasn’t an unwelcome one though — no, far from it actually, her gaze deliberately falling upon the blazing flush of your face down to the evident bulge straining painfully between your legs, palm nervously placed over it in a half-assed attempt to keep your dignity at bay — shit. It’s one thing to be kissed by your younger sister but to get fucking hard from it is like shameful admission on its own, a visceral reaction that could not be denied no matter what reasonable excuses may tumble from your lips. “..It’s fine. I don’t mind, actually.” You’re really no better than Whitney in that aspect, but when an opportunity presents itself, it’s only fair to mindlessly grasp for it, is it not? More worrying is the debauched idea that forms in your mind in regard to the enamoured expression worn by her wobbly lips and wide-eyed look, not-so-subtly rubbing her plush thighs together in a hint of arousal. Oh, so that’s how it is. If the sloppy kiss itself didn’t confirm it then this surely did, a surge of confidence rushing momentarily through your body at your next actions. “Like I said, it’s fine, Ky.” That fucking nickname again. Unable to stop yourself from dragging your cute little sister closer towards you till she consequently found herself comfortably placed onto your lap, blinking stupidly at the bold move done by her normally gloomy, big brother. Silly girl.

“Siblings do it all the time, it’s not weird. It’s natural.” Lying through your goddamn teeth with a certain ease that even surprises you internally, but oh, is it so worth it as her viridescent eyes glimmer brightly to the whispered reassurance in your casual tone, acceptance easily slipping through. “But Whitney and I don’t—“ She starts, only for you to immediately latch onto her endless questioning with the seed having already been planted, too late to fucking back out now. “You and I are different. I’m nice to you and you’re nice to me, so it’s normal if you want to. We can do that cuz’ everyone else does it, alright? You don’t have to be shy with me about it, Ky.” Every carefully measured word to make it seem as though this was the norm, knowing fully you’d be seen as freaks and degenerates by your peers attending the nearby school. Not that they didn’t already think so with Kylar, the rumors having grown out to such an unhealthy proportion that it pestered the poor girl at every corner in the narrow hallways. Poor thing.

So isn’t it your job as her big brother to make it all go away? Make her feel better.

“Shh, just let me..” Soothing circles rhythmically rubbed in a recognizable pattern along the edges of her skirt, repeated affirmations of want so as to ease her chattering mind over the possible morality of this newfound situation. Could’ve said no if she didn’t secretly desire this, though her actions seem to say so otherwise with how she earnestly complies, willingly tucking her arms to her sides to let your hands do the rest. Good girl. So docile, like a porcelain doll, sharpening breaths noticeably deepening from the careful tugs of her short skirt, revealing the confirmation of her depraved wants as the wet patch of slick soaking through her plain, white panties is bared. Your adorable little sister isn’t so innocent as you thought, is she? Contrary to her modest choice of underwear. Getting fucking wet solely from being leered at so openly by her step brother, even going so far as to spread her soft legs for better viewing.

“See? Isn’t it frustrating to be left all worked up like this?” Agreeing nods promptly interrupted by the press of your thumb against her clothed slit, such a sweet, hitched gasp elicited from the lazy circles traced onto her swollen, twitching clit. A free view of your younger sister’s scrunched up expression morphing to one of pure, unadulterated pleasure, scarred fingertips tightly clutching at the fabric of your shirt, but that’s the least of your concerns at the moment, really. “This good?” There’s no real need to ask when you can naturally rely on the shivering of her dainty figure, breathy moans of y-yes and feels good! along with the guiding of her needy fingers, flush against her slicked heat. A flick of your thumb is all it takes to have her turn into a babbling mess, bucking her hips up to meet your cupped palm, incidentally grinding onto your aching hard-on. “S-Shit, okay. Look at you, hah — so fucking wet already.” Barely able to discern the own pitch of your voice, but who the fuck is supposed to properly maintain their composure when your little sister is so prettily begging for your cock?

Effortlessly peeling away at the sticky fabric of her cotton panties, slipping it down the length of her legs to thoughtlessly throw away onto the wooden floor beneath. No time to fucking think, not with how cute her cunt looks, pink and dripping with slick coating the smooth surface of her inner thighs. Ah, and she’s already impatiently fumbling with your belt too, smiling so happily once it loosens to eventually tug your own underwear down too, leaking cock eagerly springing free from its restraints. “Want it that bad, lil sis?” Fuck, does it feel wrong to even be calling her so in your current predicament, yet so damn right too. The pleading nods, urgently clinging to your frame to press against as she grinds her sopping cunt along your flushed tip, whining whenever it knocks just right up against her puffy clit, squelching from the melding fluids. “W-Want it, want it inside, please.”

“B-Big brother—“

As much as you like the high-pitched mumblings of your dearest Kylar, there’s really only so much edging you can take before promptly snapping your hips up in tandem with her own, relishing in the slippery warmth that lovingly welcomes you, stretched folds accommodating to the sheer girth of your length. “Oh, fuck — Fuck, just relax for me. You feel so.. hah, so good.” Collectively sighing in relief at the intrusion of your pulsing cock squeezed so nicely by her constricting walls, having to steel yourself from the tight suck of her cunt snugly wrapped around your tip. “You’re doing so good for me, taking me so well.” Softly hushing her breathy whines intertwined with a mix of pain and pleasure, fingertips digging harshly in the tender flesh of her hips to guide her quivering frame up and down the length of your cock. Isn’t this what she wanted after all? Such a quick learner too, steadily bouncing to match the pace you had set, your wandering hands slipping past the hem of her loose shirt to greedily palm at her perky breasts which prompts another moan to exit her parted lips. Uncaring for the increasingly noticeable squeaking of the worn mattress when your little sis is so cutely riding you, doing her very best to satisfy your immoral urges and have you mark her slicked insides with your seed.

“What a good sister.. So good, aren’t you?” Cute, pink tongue poking out, begging for another messy kiss pressed onto her swollen lips which you dutifully oblige with another muffled groan. Sloppily planting your own against hers, treasuring every shuddered gasp to swallow down and stifling her open mewls. It’s borderline disgusting how desperate you are, savouring every thick inch engulfed by the sloppy suck of her baby sister pussy, reappearing briefly only to bury yourself balls deep once more into her defiled cunt. Isn’t really your fault with how fucking tight she is, is it? Barely grasping the reality of the situation which is the very high possibility of being heard from outside her room right this moment, but fuck — you can’t slow down, not right now, not when you’re already on the verge of spilling your cum deep inside. Damn Whitney, the bastard. Damn to hell your parents, your indecisive mother and her new husband, this is heaven itself right here. “I’m close—“ You huff out in a sort of warning, though it’s more of an invitation to Kylar, an opportunity for you to shoot your thick seed in her wanting hole, practically locking her legs tight around your waist.

Anything for you after all, huh? Her beloved. Her darling. You just didn’t know it yet! And to say it came true on its own, openly enjoying the sensation of your fat cock instinctively fucking into her tight, little sister hole. So close.

“Cum inside me, please. Let’s finish together, big brother. I-I’m close too—“

And that’s all you really need, precise thrusts upwards hastily turning into erratic humps to lazily grind against her ass, wanting nothing more but to see the dumb, drooling, fucked out expression painted across her adorable face, the convulsing of her cunt stuffed full of your length when she does have her first ever orgasm. A few clumsy circles drawn over her used clit is all it takes to have her cumming, slick trickling out of her fluttering cunt to drip over the base of your cock and stain the pristine sheets beneath. “Ah— God, you’re so fucking tight.” Fuck, fuck, fuck — Shoving the hilt of your cock as deep as possible into your little sister’s stretched out hole to rightfully mark her pink insides with your seed, spurting out thick, white strings of cum while you fuck yourself deeper into her womb and downright have her experience her first ever accidental cream pie too. It’s only then when she pitifully whines for you to stop that you do eventually pause, hips drawing back to stare in awe at the dribbling globs of cum spilling out of her sore cunt. “S-Sorry.” You mutter out apologetically with a sigh, the tension easing out of your muscles once she giggles softly in response to your strained apology. “It’s okay. I-I liked it a lot too.”

“Did you?”

“Mhm, I did.” Kylar sleepily mumbles back with drowsy eyelids, the exhaustion washing both over you all at once from, well.. all the movement involved. Let’s leave it at that, actually. Plus you deserve the rest, don’t you? Wouldn’t be fair to leave your adorable sister all alone in her twin bed without her older brother’s body to warm it with too, yeah? It’s fine to lay yourself down next to her curled figure snuggling closely against yours, drape an arm over her waist to remind her of your presence close by, make her feel secure and at ease. A silent, ushered promise to clean her up later once you two awaken, affectionately pressing a single kiss atop her head one last time before sleep takes her first. It’s your role to as the big brother, after all, isn’t it?

“..Good.”

#fuck #..fucking never. ever. writing this much within the span of a few days. ever. #FUCK SCENES WERE NASTY!!!! FUUUCKKK!! #I’m not beating the siscon allegations with this one #off to blow my brains out now #dol #degrees of lewdity #ITS ALL IN THE FAMILY. #whitney the bully #kylar the loner #bailey the caretaker #robin the orphan #big brother whitney #little sister kylar #daddy bailey #bottom male reader #top male reader #x male reader #character x male reader #asher writes

[eddiesxangel]

Eddie’s Fantasy | Knight!Eddie x Princess!Reader

Semi proof read. Based off this blurb

2.4k

CW: Roleplay, reader addresses Eddie as 'sir' but not in a dom way, more of a respect kinda thing... it goes with the roleplay, you'll get it. Pure porn with some plot, oral (m+f), p in v, unprotected sex, breeding/cream pie, f!reader.

Needy kisses were passed between the both of you. You and Eddie sat on your bed, his hands gripped your hips, guiding them back and forth over his strained cock that was trapped beneath the black fabric of his jeans.

"Tell me your fantasies, baby," cooed him as you twirled a piece of his hair and sat in his lap.

The sex is always great and amazing, but you feel like Eddie is holding back on you; there is something he wants to share with you but is too timid to admit it. You’ve only just started dating. You’re at the stage where he just asked you to be his girlfriend, and you can’t keep your hands off one another.

"I-I-" he stutters as his eyes drift to the book sitting on the opposite side of your bed.

You follow his eyes and look over to see the book you had been reading before Eddie came over. You observe the cover he is looking at; a knight carrying a princess as he saves her from her capturers.

"Oh, baby, you want me to dress up like a pretty princess?" You smile.

Eddie nods his head profusely, mouth agape.

"Are you going to be my knight in shining armour? Do you want me to reward you for saving me from the dragon?" you ask with no judgment in your tone.

You hear Eddie curse under his breath as his chest rises and falls rapidly.

"Have my tits all pushed up in a pretty pink corset for you?" You lean in to brush your plush lips against his skin. "You wanna watch how they bounce as I ride my knight in shining armour?"

"Y-yes," he stutters.

"Okay, baby, I can be your damsel in distress"

You had it all planned out: You found your old Halloween costume, which you embellished a little with a pink corset like you promised, some petticoats for volume, and some extra jewels to really sell it. You curled and pinned your hair with smaller braids, just as he liked it.

You arranged to meet him at eight. As you were fixing your makeup, you heard a light knock on the door. You don't need to let him in, as he has his own key.

“Hey babe,” he calls out into the empty living room, seeing you were not in sight.

“Eddie! Quickly im in here!” You say with urgency.

You can hear his sock-clad feet pad down the hardwood floors as he rushes in to investigate, but he stops dead when he sees what you’re wearing.

You quickly turn, and he can see everything, the pink and blue lacy gown adorned with a lace corseted bodice that your breasts are pushed so far up his dick was hard in an instant. He loved the dainty curls that fell by your pretty face. You looked like a fairy princess, and he swore that’s when he fell in love with you.

“Oh, Sir Knight, thank goodness you are here!” You flung yourself into his arms. I never thought I would be saved!” You cupped his confused face and kissed him passionately.

“Baby, what is?—”

“Shhhhh, the dragon is so very hungry, they said I haven't much time.” You look around your room frantically.

“Ohhhhhhh!” And then Eddie gets it, and holy shit is he excited.

You give him a look to not break character.

“Oh,” he clears his throat. “I’ve travelled far and wide trying to track you down, Princess. It’s been an awful long journey.” He takes your hands in his and brings them up between your two chests to kiss the back of it.

“How could I ever repay, Thee?” You bat your lashes at him.

“It is my duty as your knight to protect you, Your Highness.”

“There must be something?” You creep closer and closer to him, letting your hands twirl a loose tendril.

“Well, there might be one thing,” he chides.

“Yes, Sir Knight?” You speak as you lean into his neck, gently brushing away his curls so you can leave a soft kiss on his neck.

“Shit, that’s good,” he whispers as your mouth travels lower to his collar bone and your hand glides down to his already erect penis.

“I would like to express my gratitude, Sir. Can I?” You start palming him through his cotton pants.

“Y-yes, Princess, I’ll do anything for you.” God, he was such a simp.

You give a satisfied smirk and sink to your knees. Your dress pillows out, and Eddie can’t help but moan, seeing your breasts falling out of the corset at this angle.

“Fuck baby, you’re too good to me; I am not worthy.” he cups your face, and you nuzzle into it. You’d do anything for him.

“Anything for my knight in shining armour.” You bite your lip, gazing up at him; your doe eyes don’t break contact until your hands finally help his cock out of its cotton confines.

You hear Eddie take a sharp breath as your glossy lips touch his reddened tip. You can taste the salty pre cum as you place it in your mouth.

Eddie wants to grip your head so badly in his hands but doesn't dare, knowing you spent all this time preparing for him. To be his pretty Princess. Just the thought alone was going to make Eddie cream his pants.

Eddie watches, not wanting to blink; he can't miss a moment of this. Your perfectly outlined glossy lips swallowing down his cock, your beautiful eyes gazing up at him lovingly.

You break eye contact when you feel Eddie's bush tickle your nose. Trying to slowly breathe, you swallow down and hear your knight moan from above. Slowly, you pull back, tasting every inch of him on your tongue before you push your head back into him at a much quicker pace.

You pump your hot wet mouth on Eddie's cock, enjoying every minute. You loved having this hold over your boyfriend, as you were the only thing he was focused on in the world.

"You suck my cock so good," he hisses, trying not to cum just yet.

With a pop, you release his cock from your mouth and replace it with your hand as you move lower to suck on his balls. No longer caring about your makeup, you smear your face into the wet skink of his undershaft, needing to worship him like he deserves.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck" Eddie was so close, your hand was jerking his so smooth and fast he almost exploded, but he stopped you just in time.

"I need you, princess, please." He begged.

"How do you want me?" You stand back up, and Eddie flips you around so you're facing the bed. You walk over together, and Eddie instructs you to lie down on your back while he undresses.

He gently guides your head down on the pillow, ever the gentleman.

"Need to treat you like the Princess you are." he hums as he gently peels up your skirts layer by layer to see you're not wearing anything underneath.

Eddie could see your pussy was already soaked, his mouth watered, and as he got closer, he could smell your arousal, which drove him insane every time.

The sweet aroma filled his nostrils; he had to taste you. Slowly, his soft lips trailed the inside of your thigh, leaving small bites to claim you as his. He crept closer and closer until the small hairs from your mound tickled his nose.

You hear Eddie take a deep breath and inhale sharply as you watch his eyes flutter shut, finally satiated.

Your eyes are closed, soaking up the moment; you feel a hand trail up and squeeze your breast as the other circles your entrance. You move your hand to cup the one that’s cupping your breast and guide it so the fabric releases your nipple.

Eddie loved your taste so much he could bathe in it. His sloppy kisses make your mind go blank as his saliva and the mix of your slick coat your inner thighs, the bed sheets and his face. You open your eyes and can see his face is glistening. You're absolutely dripping for him.

"B-baby! Baby! Baby! Baby!" You chant as your breath quickens. He loves seeing your chest rise and fall as he looks up at you through his lashes. Your sweet moans are his newfound favourite genre of music.

His tongue flicking over your clit over and over and over. Nipping and sucking and swirling as your wriggle beneath him. His strong large hands have your hips pinned down as you try and grind your pussy on his face. His fingers are diving into your plush hips, and the rough stubble from his chin and upper lip only makes the feeling much better.

Your orgasm hits you and your cum it's like liquid gold on his tongue. Eddie doesn’t hesitate to lap up your cum leaking out of your hole catching every. last. drop.

"Such a good job for me," he hums into you, sending waves of aftershocks through you. You gasp into his eyes, swearing you’ve never felt so loved, even if you have yet to speak those three words to one another.

“I need you, please, Sir.”

Eddie has totally forgotten about the roleplay until now. He was so consumed, pussy drunk, that your words only had him aching for you all over again.

“Time to show me your gratitude, Princess.”

You sit up and make room for Eddie to lie down on the bed because your usual position was for you to ride him. He loved to watch your tits bounce, to latch on your nipples while you bounce on his cock like his little bunny.

You go to take off your skirts because Eddie loves to watch as he disappears inside of you, but this time, Eddie stops you from undressing.

“No, please leave it on.” He asked while stroking his cock. You watch as his big hands grip the shaft, only making your pussy clench around nothing. No longer could you wait; the anticipation was too much.

Bunching up your skirts the best you can, Eddie guides your hips to be aligned with his shaft. He nods, and you sink down while he pushes himself up into you.

The sight before him is enough to have him cumming instantly. Your tits are so far pushed up that they’re basically falling out of your top, your head is flung back, exploding your neck, daring him to mark, your dress falls as you grip his shoulder for balance, and he is enveloped fully inside of you.

“Fuck you’re so tight.”

“You’re so big, I’m so full,” you moan as you raise yourself on your knees so you can ride him.

“You’re so perfect, my perfect Princess,” Eddie mumbles, leaning in so he can press his face in your chest. You start off slow, building up speed with each bounce.

A loud moan leaves your throat in reply to his praises.

Eddie is consuming you; even if he’s under you, you’re being devoured by him. His hands, his mouth, his thick long cock filling you so good you’re about to cry from the pleasure.

“Gotta take what’s mine,” he grits before he pushes the both of you up, and you land on your back, and he’s hovering over you. Quickly he pounds into you, eyes not veering from your chest as he watches your tits bounce.

“Are you mine, Princess?” His hips slap so hard into you that you feel his balls slap you with each hard thrust.

“Yours! All yours!”

Eddie swears his heart melts when the admission leaves your lips. He’s always waited for a girl like you to come around. Now you’re here, doing this for him and enjoying it? He never thought he’d be here with you.

“More,” you moan

“Not good enough for you, your Highness?”

“I-I-I,” you can’t speak, but Eddie knows what you need.

“Gonna fill up this pussy so good.”

Before you know it, you’re being flipped around, and your head is pressed so far into the mattress your neck is craned, and it hurts, but you pay no mind because Eddie has you propped up on your knees, your dress is flipped up, and you’re all spread out, and he is ravaging you with his mouth once more.

His nose pressed into your ass as he tongue fucks you.

Your moans are muffled by the plush pillows your face is stuffed into. A small wet patch is forming on it from your drool. Your eyes are rolled back, and you're in absolute heaven.

Eddie's hot wet tongue runs up your soaked slit before he pulls back with a moan before he breathes you in as his face is drawn to your pussy like a magnet.

“More” you need his cock once again. Nothing will be able to satisfy your needs.

“You want more Princess? You want me to fill up this pussy so good your belly will swell with my seed?

“Yes!” Your white knuckle grip on the pillow almost tears it apart.

"Mmmmm, that's my good girl. Tell me what you need. " he encourages as your mains rip from your throat.

“You, My Knight! You, you, you!” Your pussy clenches over nothing once more.

You're so close that you feel it building up more and more until you break. Eddie feels you quivering beneath him, and he pulls away and quickly inserts himself before you feel a sharp slap on your ass.

“Eddie!”

Nothing pleases him more than to hear you blissed out because of him.

“Oh, Princess!” He cried, flinging his head back, fucking you with reckless abandon.

Your legs almost give out as your body shakes with ecstasy. You can’t hold it any longer; everything is Eddie, everything is beautiful. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. You hadn’t even released. You were changing his name as your pussy clamps down on his cock like a vice.

Uneven thrusts continuously pound into you until you feel the grip of Eddie’s fingers dig into your flesh so hard as he cums deep inside of you, you squeak, and Eddie loosens his grip immediately.

“Need you,” you slur mindlessly.

“You got me, Princess.” You both collapse on the bed, and Eddie's weight is comforting.

“And they lived happily ever after?” You try and roll over to look at Eddie; he pushes up and but so you can roll back over.

He kisses your nose. “And they lived happily ever after.”

Tagging some mooties: @jamdoughnutmagician @littlexdeaths @voyeurmunson @ceriseheaven @munson-blurbs

#eddie munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #eddie munson roleplay #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #Eddie Munson #eddie munson fan fiction

[spatialwave]

"yes, sir."

pairing: pre-war!cooper howard x fem!reader word count: 3k ask: “Cooper x Reader where reader’s a girl with a kink for cowboys, and Cooper plays it up for her? Kind of a roleplay situation (smut), also if he’s into how small she is, that’d be great.” warnings/tags: mdni! smut, porn with plot, cowboy/cowgirl kink, size difference, age difference, dom!cooper, sub!reader, oral (m+f receiving), doggy-style, riding/cowgirl, edging/denial, praising, slight verbal degradation, bondage, gagging, you’re cooper’s babygirl. notes: big thank you to the anon who asked for a cowboy kink/size difference fic, hehe. i hope it was okay that i wrote pre war cooper, but when i think of cowboy, i think of him in that slutty little cowboy fit, lol.

“come on, coop, don’t be a prude,” you said with a big smile, standing in front of your partner with your hands interlocked in his, “you played a sheriff before, why can’t you do it for me?”

his lips curved into a smile as he titled his head down, his hat covering the red blush rising on his cheeks, “maybe i am turning into a prude,” he chuckled, rousing a laugh from you as you led him into the bedroom with a coy smile spread on your lips.

you’d been seeing cooper howard exclusively for a few weeks, having weaseled your way into his life a few short months after his divorce had been finalized. you were a young stable girl at the ranch where he’d kept sugarfoot, no longer living with barb in their old house meant he didn’t have the capacity to care for her on his own anymore. it was difficult, but he trusted one of the best ranchers just out of los angeles.

it was a stroke of luck to have been the one to help him the first day he stopped by your grandfather’s ranch, keeping yourself from bursting into excitement as you got his mare situated in her new home. there was immediate chemistry flowing between each other, but you knew cooper was tiptoeing around you, and you couldn’t blame him. 

you were certainly much younger than he was.

the movie star came around often, and although he’d spent most of his time riding sugarfoot, you couldn’t count on two hands the amount of times you’d caught him staring at you, covering it up by hiding his eyes behind the cowboy hat you’d always seen him wearing.

the sexual tension was mutual, so you acted on it.

you saw first-hand how incredibly pent-up he was, but you still couldn’t believe how quick he was to say yes when you offered him a blowjob a few days later. you didn’t beat around the bush when you knew what you wanted.

you led him behind one of the stables, covered up by a stack of hay bails, as you took him down your throat like the good girl you were. cooper didn’t last long, choking out a moan as he came in your mouth after a minute or two. 

since then, cooper was head over heels for you—the country girl he always wanted. someone who would say yes in a heartbeat if he asked you to go up to bakersfield with him to live on a ranch. it was dangerous territory, he was sure of it, but he’d never once felt so much fire in his heart when he was around you. you kept his spirit young.

likewise, cooper howard was everything you could’ve dreamed of in a man. handsome, kind-hearted, and eager to please.

that’s why he couldn’t say no when you asked so nicely for him to do some roleplaying with you in bed. wasn’t your fault that you had a thing for cowboys, and he just happened to be the hottest one you’d ever set eyes on.

so, there you were in his bedroom in nothing but a skimpy bra and panties set that he bought you a week earlier. red, see-through lace that cupped your perky tits and accentuated the curves of your ass. you made sure he was fully dressed, though, from a cowboy hat all the way down to the worn-in boots.

“see, baby?” you purred, kneeling on the edge of his bed like a minx, “there’s no one sexier than you, cowboy.”

it was hard to miss the flicker of interest in cooper’s eyes as you cooed at him. his cock twitching under his denim jeans that he desperately wanted off.

if this is what you wanted, then he’d sure as hell give it to you.

“don’t talk like you’re the one in charge here. i’m the sheriff around these parts,” he drawled through a smirk, his voice alone making you wet in anticipation, “so, be a good girl and listen to me,” cooper stepped forward, towering over your small frame as a calloused hand tilted your chin up to look at him, “ya’ think ya’ can do that for me, sweetheart?”

“yes, sir,” you murmured, a soft squeak escaping your lips when he pressed his lips against yours in a sudden, passionate kiss that made your stomach twist and turn in all the right ways. his tongue forced its way into your mouth, and you opened your lips for him to taste all of you, but he pulled back just to leave you craving more, “please.” you whimpered.

“shhh,” his lips pulled into a half-grin, and you knew then and there that he was enjoying this power dynamic as much as you were, “i need ya’ to be nice and quiet for me. don’t want anyone else in town listenin’ to what i do to you.”

your lips trembled as you sat patiently in front of him, heat building in your abdomen as your cunt squeezed and ached around nothing. cooper took off his hat, placing it nicely over your head—claiming you as his.

“lay back, darlin’,” he whispered, dipping his head low and following you as you landed onto the soft bed. he crawled over you, pressing wet kisses to your neck, down your chest until his lips teased around the band of your panties, “now, look at how wet you are. i barely even touched ya’,” he chuckled, leaning in to kiss your cunt over the wet fabric.

you held onto his hat, keeping it on your head, as you arched your back and chewed down on your lip to keep yourself from crying out in pleasure. 

he tongued at the fabric, finding your swollen clit and giving it attention that you would’ve preferred without your underwear on. you kept quiet, though, knowing that if you were on your best behaviour, ‘the sheriff’ would be sure to give you everything you needed.

a whimper barely escaped your lips when he tugged the fabric aside, cool air making you pulse and twitch.

“christ, baby,” he groaned, “you want my cock so bad, don’t you? i bet you wanna’ ride me until you’re screamin’ my name and beggin’ for me to let you cum.”

you were fighting for your life as cooper’s thumb pressed slow circles on your bundle of nerves, the words falling from his tongue sending your stomach into a fit of butterflies. he had never been so vulgar with the way he spoke, you weren’t sure you’d be lasting long if he kept it up.

“cooper, please,” the words spilled from you before you could stop, a moan choking in your throat, “shit—i mean, sir,” you whined.

a man of his word, cooper pulled away from you, standing at the edge of the bed and watching the way you squirmed without his touch.

“i told you to be quiet,” he clicked his tongue in disappointment, unbuttoning the blue and yellow top that looked so perfect on him. accented with leather fringes hanging off his broad shoulder, and a little golden star on the left side—just like a sheriff, “i thought you’ were goin’ to be a good girl for me,” he sighed, “suppose i need to punish you, until you learn to behave.”

he finished unbuttoning the top, leaving his chest exposed, as he reached down and undid his belt buckle with one hand. cooper pulled the leather out from the belt loops of his denim, and your mind went haywire at the sharp sound.

“lay on your stomach,” he commanded, watching with a smirk as you obeyed. his hands took your wrists, pulling them behind you so he could snag them together until his belt had them forcefully restricted. he let out a whistle, “you look goddamn’ pretty all tied up,” he smiled, large hands reaching down and massaging your ass before pulling your panties off.

you looked over your shoulder at the cowboy, trying to pry your wrists apart, but he was good with a belt. eyes settled on his exposed chest and your mouth pooled with saliva, wishing you could turn around and let him fuck you while your fingernails scratched against his abs and left reddened marks on his skin.

cooper’s hands moved to your hips and lifted you onto spread knees on the edge of the bed, just high enough so he had the perfect angle to fuck you as good as he believed you deserved. you kept your face turned to the side, breathing heavy and biting back moans as you felt his fingers rub through your folds. already you felt your knees wanting to give up, but you willed yourself to stay upright. the last thing you needed was to upset him and be edged for hours—or worse, not allowed to cum at all.

he pushed a finger inside you, heavy-lidded hazel eyes watching your expression as your tight cunt contracted around his digit. your fingers bent and dug into the leather belt as he slid in a second, roughly finger fucking you as your eyes had begun to roll into the back of your head. it was so damned good, but it wasn’t enough—you rocked your hips back against his fingers, silently begging for him to fuck you harder and deeper. 

you held back a moan, the sound radiating deep in your chest and loud enough for cooper to hear.

“now, now, babygirl,” he murmured gently, free hand holding your hips still, “once i start fuckin’ you, i promise you can try bein’ as loud as you want.”

that alone made another whimper come from you, an agonizing feeling swallowing you whole when his fingers pulled out and left you empty and exposed. 

you opened your mouth, ready to talk out of turn and beg for his cock desperately, but you were met with your panties being shoved between your lips, rightly so. a makeshift gag that would make it near impossible to get any sounds out.

“good girl,” cooper uttered, his hand brushing back hair so he could see your face, “i did say ‘try’, didn’t i?” he chuckled, taking far too much pleasure in the dominance he had over you, and by the looks of you, he knew you loved it.

he shimmied the opened shirt from his shoulders, letting it fall to the ground as he unzipped his jeans and pushed them to his thighs, so his cock sprung free. the cowboy didn’t waste time running the head along your wet pussy, watching as his pre-cum dripped out and coated your entrance. the lace gag muffled your moans as each stroke along you made your thighs quake in pleasure, leaving you a complete fucking mess.

“fuck,” he groaned lowly, holding the base of his cock with his right hand, the other holding your hip up so you didn’t collapse, “i don’t know how you’re gonna’ take this cock,” he breathed heavy, slowly pushing into your cunt, “so small… just a sweet little thing.” 

you groaned, your tongue pressing against the fabric in your mouth when tears stung your ears as his cock filled you. he wasn’t wrong, you weren’t sure how you managed to take him; he towered over you in height, and he was very well-endowed. he often fucked you so deep that your stomach bulged with each rough snap of his hips, his hand would press against your lower tummy so he could feel his cock fucking you dumb.

cooper groaned when he reached the hilt, giving you only a few seconds to adjust to the fullness you were a good girl who could take it, you’d proven that many times.

his thick cock slid through your swollen walls and stretched you with each forward push of his hips, balls slapping hard against your clit. you were gagging on the fabric pathetically, the sounds from you nothing more than muffled whimpers.

his hand tugged on the belt strapped tight around your wrists, using it as leverage as he fucked you so hard you felt like you might pass out. your eyes fluttered closed as they rolled back, body shaking in tandem with the bed as spit dripped down your chin after your panties fully soaked in your mouth.

with how tight you were squeezing around his cock, cooper knew you were close. 

“don’t cum, yet, baby,” he moaned, head falling back as he rocked hard against you, tugging harder on your wrists so you were pulled up from the bed, tits bouncing with every thrust.

you were seconds away from cumming when cooper dropped your wrists and pulled out—your cunt dripping with juices down your thighs. you landed hard against the bed, face buried in the blanket as it swallowed up the tears streaming down your cheeks from the denial. your lover undid the belt around your wrists, and you were quick to pull them apart, relishing in the freedom to touch where you wanted.

cooper bent down and pressed his tongue to your abused cunt, lapping at you wildly and getting a good taste. you pulled the gag out of your mouth just in time to let out a strangled moan, vibrating deep from your chest.

“fuck, cooper—“ you cried, hips and knees shaking uncontrollably, “you’re gonna’ make me cum, please, don’t stop. i wanna’ cum so bad.”

“you cum when i tell you, you can,” he mumbled against you, hands grabbing tight at your ass as his tongue pushed inside you.

it took everything for you to focus on holding back your climax, the way his tongue penetrated you nearly threw you over the edge, but he was good at knowing your triggers. he pulled back from you, licking his lips as he stood back up on his feet and kicked off his boots and jeans.

“ride me,” he said breathlessly, watching you crawl to your hands and knees as he moved to lay back on the bed with his head in the pillows, “you like ridin’ cowboys, don’t you?”

“yes, sir,” you mewled, chewing on your bottom lip as you moved to straddle him. cooper had never looked sexier to you, his forehead and chest were damp with sweat and his cheeks flushed a perfect shade of pink. 

with one hand, he reached behind you and unhooked the clasp of your bra, snagging the fabric from your body and tossing it off the bed. his hands were quick to massage your tits, squeezing your nipples between his fingers as you sunk down on his cock with one quick drop of your hips. 

you and cooper moaned together as he stretched you out, your body flushed hot as you pressed your hands to his chest and rocked your hips. 

he praised you often, saying sweet little nothing's and showering you in compliments as you rode him just the way he liked it. there was no better gratification than watching the way his face twisted in pleasure as he moaned your name over and over like a prayer.

“i want you to cum in me,” you said through a quick inhale, beginning to lose your breath, “please, sir. i’ve been so good for you.”

a guttural growl came from him as he grabbed at your jaw and yanked you down roughly into a hungry kiss. he licked into your mouth, and you were much too willing to part your lips and let him take your breath away.

cooper lifted his hips with his remaining strength, just enough so he could pull his cock from you and thrust back up, fucking you relentlessly. you buried your face against his neck, gurgled moans bubbling up your throat and into his ear as your body rolled toward the edge once again. his stubble rubbed against your cheek, and it was the only thing you focused on as you held back your orgasm until he gave you permission.

you had become nothing but a toy of pleasure for him, your body limp as he slammed his hips into yours, and the sound of your skin slapping together echoed louder than the headboard banging against the wall.

“you take my cock so fuckin’ good, baby. i want you to cum with me,” cooper whined into your ear, and you could hear his voice shaking, “fuck, i’m gonna’ cum,” he growled.

cooper reached a hand between you and thumbed at your clit, circling it several times in a quick pattern—all you needed for your pleasure to erupt you into a state of euphoria. you saw stars, a fucked out smile on your lips as your cunt tightened around his cock and left you babbling his name as cooper continued to fuck you. his thrusts stuttered a few times, unable to keep up the rhythm as your pulsing cunt milked out his orgasm. he came inside you with a deep-throated groan, filling you with wet, sticky cum.

his body finally gave in, and he collapsed back on the bed with you dropping to his chest. you were both covered in sweat, chests heaving as you caught your breath and gave your bodies time to be still and quiet. relishing in the aftermath of one of your kinkiest rendezvous.

cooper was the first to groan and shift in his position, his body already sore and knowing he’d be aching for a couple days. those beautiful hazel eyes of his stayed focused on your face as you leaned your head back to get a good look at him. he smiled lopsided, making you blush, as his hand brushed hair out of your face that clung to the sweat gathering on your skin.

“you’re so damn perfect,” he whispered to you in that thick southern accent, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips that made you fall in love with him all over again, “my babygirl.”

#cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul #pw!cooper howard #fallout prime fic #cooper howard fic #the ghoul fic #cooper howard x you #cooper howard x fem!reader #wordsbyspatial

[camryn-haitani]

I know darling

Colby Brock x Fem!Reader

you sent Colby a lengthy paragraph about all the things you want him to do to you. and he makes everything you sent come true

TW: Dom Colby, p in v sex, fingering (Fem receiving), teasing, video masterbation (from Colby), mentions of Sam joining and watching, face fucking (Fem receiving), fingering, name calling "love, baby, angel, sweetheart, good girl, good bitch, pretty girl, bitch, whore, slut", praise and degradation, cursing, video during it, aftercare, plot twist

I am a firm believer that Colby is into face fucking

- - - - - - - - - - -

once I started texting the words I wanna say, they wouldn't stop coming. once I felt like I said enough to get him going, I sent it along with a spicy pic of me in his favorite lingerie. and now I wait for his response.

Colby POV

That was one of the scariest things we've ever caught on camera. me, Kris, and Sam decided we had enough and packed up to go home. we all get in the car and wait for the long car ride home.

once we get into a town, I finally have service and I get a shit ton of notifications. the one that caught my eye was the one y/n sent. I see she sent a long paragraph along with a photo. I was expecting a message about how much she misses me. holy shit I was wrong.

what I'm reading is the most spine chilling, boner inducing, and cock throbbing thing I've ever read. the more I read, the more hard I get. I grab my xplr hoodie and cover my lower half, not wanting Sam to see my boner.

we still have a 3 hour car ride back to LA, I'm not gonna make it that long. my breath get harsh and fast. Sam notices and says something. "hey man, you good?" he asks as he hits my arms. "yeah uhm I'm good, just thinking about the stuff that happened earlier."

I'll give it an hour and see if it goes away.

*an hour later*

well it's been an hour and I still have a boner. I roll my eyes and try to think of an excuse.

"hey Sam uh pull over to a gas station, I uhm have to piss" I lie. "I got you man" Sam pulls over to a gas station and I quickly run out of the car and into the bathroom. I sigh as I pull down my pants when an idea popped in my head.

I pull out my phone and start recording.

*a little while later*

I finish and clean myself up as i send the video to y/n.

me: video

me: I hope you enjoy this love

Y/n POV

I hear my phone buzz and I open it without hesitation. I see he sent a video and I watch it from beginning to end.

me: can't wait for you to get home daddy~

I know that name gets him going and I wanna see what happens. not even 5 minutes later, I get another text from him.

colbs<333: god you have no idea what you do to me, angel. when I get home, you better have my favorite outfit on with your head hanging off the side of the bed<3

me: yes sir<33

since I have his location, I can see how far away he is. he's about an hour and a half away from home, so when he gets about 10 minutes away from home, I'll do what he says.

*an hour and a half later*

I get more and more excited when I watch his icon get closer and closer to our house. I decide to get changed into his favorite lingerie and lay down on the bed.

I hear the door open and I hear stuff slam on the ground with fast foot steps coming up the stairs. I quickly put my head off the side of the bed just like he said. the door swings open and I see him with lustful eyes eating me alive.

"goddamn angel, you look gorgeous" he walks closer to me. his rough, calloused hands run all over my body as he ogles me. every movement he makes on my body, I twitch with anticipation.

he plays with my tits as he runs his fingers over my nipples over the lingerie as a whimper elicits from my mouth. I feel his boner on my cheek in his pants, wanting to be let out. I lift my hand up to caress his cock. I wrap my hand around it and barely squeeze it. he groans as he steps back to free his aching cock.

"you ready, princess?" he asks as he places his cock on my lips. I nod vigorously and open my mouth, spit already coating his leaking tip.

"just tap my thigh if you can't breathe" he reassures. I nod as he taps his cock on my tongue a few times before shoving his cock in my throat. I gag but then get used to it.

I let him use my throat for whatever he needs. there's pre-cum and saliva dripping down my chin and my mouth.

his thrusts get more harsh. 'hes about to cum' I think to myself. "gonna.... fuck.. close.." he mutters. he can't even pronounce words. I grab his waist and pull him further into my mouth. "fuck!" he yells, unknowingly I was going to do that.

I feel his cum drip down my throat and chin. I sit up and gather his cum and put it back in my mouth. he does the same with my spit.

his eyes widen for a second, like he has an idea. he pulls out his phone and starts recording.

"oh Sam would love this, wouldn't he?" he teased his fingers on my slit. I can only nod, my mind is cloudy and my eyes dizzy with pleasure. "I need words, pretty girl." he says, curling his fingers up in me. "yes! he would love seeing me like this!" I yell. Colby chuckles at my words.

"seeing you like this. being such a slut for me." his fingers get more and more quick. I know that him and Sam have done something like this in the past, but Sam watching me is so erotic to me.

"go ahead and tell the camera how much of a slut you are. for me and Sam. go on bitch."

"fuck Sam, I want you in me. I want you and Colby to fuck me so hard it hurts to walk. please Sam" I beg with pleasing eyes.

"good bitch" his fingers get more aggressive and he can tell I'm getting close.

he rips his fingers out of me as I'm about to cum. "w-what... why.. please, I want it... wanna cum for you" I plead into the camera.

he grabs my cheeks "only good sluts get to cum. this is what you get for getting me hard in the car. you knew I was with Sam and yet, you still did it. it's like you wanted Sam to know." he coos.

"yes! I wanted Sam to know! I want you both to fuck me!" I whine.

"that's what I thought, you whore" he lines up his cock and slides it up and down my wet folds.

"daddy please I need you." I beg. "fine, only because I'm so fucking hard for you" he rams his cock into me without a second thought.

"why don't you tell Sam what you want him to do to you, hm?" Colby teases. "want.... want you to fuck my face while Colby e-eats me out" my hands cover my face in embarrassment.

he rips my hands from my face "I think Sam would wanna see your pretty face as I fuck you." he pins my hands above my head as he slides his cock in and out of me.

his pace gets faster and his rhythm gets sloppy. my legs wrap around his waist, wanting him closer in me.

he apparently liked that because I feel him twitch in me. "fuck... gonna cum in your pretty pussy, huh? you want me to cum in you, fucking slut"

"shit..... yes yes yes please." I beg more.

his final push in me makes me unravel the knot in my stomach. my back arches as my legs tighten around his waist.

his breath slows as he picks himself up and goes to our bathroom. he runs a washcloth under water and comes back to clean us up.

Colby wore a smirk on his face that I couldn't see. "hey baby, can you get the cameras from downstairs please? I wanna edit some footage from earlier"

"yeah sure" I struggle to go downstairs but I make it through

I turn the corner and there he is…

Sam

he was downstairs this whole time

"uhm uhh... hi?"

"hello beautiful" he says as he stands up and walks towards me. he puts a finger under my chin and makes me look at him "you sounded lovely up there. calling out for me. I hope you meant every word up there because I plan on making those things true. " he whispered in my ear.

his phone goes off. "I wonder what this is" he says sarcastically. he pulls up the video Colby took of me. "I hope I make you sound like this" he kisses your neck and walks out the door.

“fuck”

- - - - - - -

this has been in my head for a looooong time

#colby brock x reader #colby brock #x reader #colby #sam and colby x reader #sam golbach #xplr #sam #im feral for these 2 #please help #colby brock smut #smut

[reiderwriter]

Hating You Is The Easiest Thing I Can Do

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: When your boss pulls your case out from under you and gives it right to the BAU, you're pissed. You're even more pissed when Doctor Spencer Reid suggests you can't do your job properly. After a week in his company, you decide to give him a piece of your mind

Warnings: Day One of Kinktober - Hate Sex, enemies to lovers, dom/sub, Mean!Dom!Spencer, Brat!Reader, spanking, degradation, spanking, spit kink, sir kink, vaginal fingering, slight creampie, Reader's boss is an asshole, typical office misogyny. Spencer is also an asshole, but that's just because he's a dumbass.

A/N: Special thank you to @reidmotif and @mrs-dr-reid for proofreading this one for me! I wrote this when on a major Pride and Prejudice moment, which is why there's a whole lot of plot before the sex. I hope you like the build-up just as much as the smut! <3 If you like it, don't forget to leave a like, reply, or reblog and tell me your thoughts! ((just as a reminder, apart for Sundays and Tuesdays, I'll be posting all the kinktober fics on AO3 exclusively, so check out my writing there - reiderwriter))

My requests are also back open now, so if you like my writing and have an idea, check out my request guidelines and drop me a message in my inbox! You can find the rest of my masterlist here :)

To say you were angry was an understatement. You were seething, the anger bubbling up inside of you and threatening to lash out at anyone who so much as crossed your path as you made your way down the crappy motel corridor. You'd only known Spencer Reid a week, but you could think of no one you despised more.

The FBI had always been a boys' club, you knew that. There were some goddamn strong women in your field office, of course, but you were outnumbered 10 to 1. Which was why you were so determined to do well on the first case assigned to you as lead Agent. The first week of the case, you'd made sure you were thorough. A body had been found in the park by a jogger, and you darted to the crime scene the moment you got the call. A woman in her early twenties, like you, had been raped, tortured, and then dumped here, her body posed in a demeaning way to make it seem as if she were performing a sexual act. Your entire body shuddered at the sight, but you couldn't let your coworkers see you weak so you powered through. Collecting evidence, getting an ID on the victim, interviewing potential witnesses, and yes, even breaking the news to the poor girl's family, you had been so attentive to every detail of the case and you felt you were making progress, your boss delivered a humbling blow.

"Another body has been discovered. I've invited the Behavioural Analysis Unit in from Quantico because you're in over your head." He'd told you, not even looking up at you from the file he was reading on his desk.

"What? I wasn't told about another body, why wasn't I notified?"

"I didn't think you needed to know, now that the BAU is coming in."

"So I'm off the case? That's it?"

"No, I want you to assist them in their investigation. Tell them everything you've gathered so far, get them situated in the office as best you can."

"Get them coffee when they want it? Rub their feet if they ask for it? This is bullshit, I was making progress, if you'd only have given me more time-"

"Agent, I suggest you walk out of this office right now and get your PMSing under control before I have to suspend you from fieldwork." You pressed your nails further into the beds on your palms then and bit back your tongue from replying, simply giving a terse nod and exiting the office.

It wasn't even an hour later before the new team arrived, and you offered a tense smile and welcome as you got them set up in their own office. The Unit Chief didn't seem too bad, but Aaron Hotchner couldn't exactly be described as the most welcoming of people, and you felt an instant camaraderie with JJ, the other agent who'd come into the office with him. There were more agents apparently, but they'd gone out into the field to check out the new victim and reinterview the family, something you weren't exactly happy about. But, if you were going to be their little bitch for the next week, you were at least thankful they were tolerable and polite.

"So here's everything I've got so far. I've been pretty thorough in my interrogations of potential witnesses, and there are no CCTV cameras in the general vicinity of the dump sites, so I don't think you'll find anything else there that'll aid in your profile."

" If you'd have been thorough you'd have found this though, right?" A new voice popped up from the door, and you felt yourself tense up under the sudden accusation. Looking up you saw he was holding up his phone, a picture of a strange marking on a tree lighting up the screen.

"Excuse me?"

"This was left on a tree roughly thirty feet from the first dump site. I called Rossi and Morgan and they found a similar marking near the second victim. It's a Mesopotamian symbol relating to the worship of prostitutes and sex workers to promote fertility." He spoke plainly, but all you could hear was the condescension in his tone, and your blood boiled with rage.

" Agent Y/L/N, I'm sorry about him, this is Doctor Spencer Reid, he's another member of our team." JJ introduced the man, sending him a warning glance, as if letting him know that he hadn't just put his foot in his mouth directly.

You looked at the man then, really focusing on him now instead of the pictures, and almost cursed out loud again. He was a jerk, but fuck was he attractive. Tousled hair, dark eyes, and a perfectly sculpted jaw, it was as if he were sent from hell directly to piss you off and tempt you. You pushed the attraction aside for the minute then, choosing to be the bigger person and introduce yourself.

"I'm Agent Y/N Y/L/N. And I'm sorry that I'm not an expert on Mesopotamian prostitutes, but I guess that's probably your specialty, right, Doctor?" You held out your hand for him to shake, but he just looked down at it.

"If you're referring to my doctorate, I actually didn't study classic civilizations. I hold PhDs in Math, Chemistry, and Engineering and additional BAs in Psychology, Philosophy, and Sociology. And I don't do handshakes." He glanced straight past you after that, walking back over to Hotch and filling him in on other things you must've overlooked during your brief time working the case.

You glared at his back, finally letting your hand drop to your side again as you let out an angry chuckle.

"Don't take it personally, Spencer is just… He’s He's not great with people. He'll warm up to you." JJ put a reassuring arm on your shoulder and you nodded. But inside you knew there was not one thing the man could do to reverse the bad opinion of him you'd just gained.

–X–

After the initial anger of having the case seeped out from beneath you wore off, you actually began enjoying your time with the BAU. You hadn't put much thought into profiling before, it usually being so far off your radar while you were working in the field office but you were actually coming to enjoy how they worked, and you'd learned a lot.

Your relationship with Spencer, however, only degraded.

Your hatred had reignited the moment you'd been joined by the rest of the BAU Team. Your boss has finally come down to greet them, and, almost as if making you pay for your earlier comments, had genuinely sent you on a coffee run for them. You could deal with the fact that the man had the most annoyingly complicated coffee order you'd ever heard of in the Bureau, but what you couldn't forgive were the sly comments you walked in on when you returned.

"Come on, Reid. That Agent is easy on the eyes, you should talk to her, get you a slice of that." You'd been introduced to Derek Morgan earlier and you'd instantly pegged him as a flirt, so this wasn't exactly shocking to you. What was a bit surprising was the other man's reply.

"If she's attractive I hadn't noticed. I've been too busy trying to clear up her mess with this case."

You walked in the door then, coffees in hand, and slammed his drink down on the table for him. You handed Morgan to him, double-checking that you'd got both of their orders right before shooting another glare at the man and walking away to find the rest of the team.

But not before hearing Morgan chastise Reid in another whisper: "God man, you gotta be nicer to the kid…"

To say that your working relationship had soured totally after your two personal encounters with the man was simply an untruth. You didn't have a working relationship, you had a working rivalry.

From then on, you'd slyly interrupt the man when he was speaking, telling him to cut his genius rambles in half, that you didn't have all day to sit around and wait for him to stutter his way through his theory while there was a murderer on the loose.

He didn't hold back either, constantly asking you questions he knew you didn't know the answers to, just to smile slyly down at you and make you admit that you weren't as good as him. It was getting so detrimental to the office atmosphere that you had to be genuinely separated after only three days, Hotchner bringing you into the field with him on multiple occasions and forcing Reid to stay behind with JJ to work on a geographical profile.

You'd been with Hotchner at a family interview, working with him to gain details of the second victim's actions and whereabouts leading up to her murder to establish a timeline when you got a call.

Excusing yourself from the room, you quickly picked up the call.

"This is Agent Y/L/N."

"Hotch isn't picking up his phone." That was all the explanation you got from the man on the other side of the phone, his voice instantly grating.

"Yes, I'd assume he isn't, Doctor Reid, because we are currently interviewing a bereaved mother and father and he put his phone on silent. Is there something you need?"

"I need to talk to Hotch."

"Well, you called me. What do you need?" You heard him breathe out a frustrated sigh on the other side of the line, and you rolled your eyes, slightly enjoying being this stubborn and getting under his skin.

"Just tell him we're ready to give the profile, okay?" He hung on you after that and you cursed him down the line, receiving nothing back but the empty beeps of the dial tone.

–X–

It didn't take long after delivering the profile to get your guy, but as he hadn't been in the middle of committing any felonies when you picked him up, you'd had to spend a few days in the interrogation rooms.

Hotch had taken a crack at him and gotten nowhere, and so had Rossi and Emily and Morgan. JJ had been the one to make the arrest, so she went in last and still came out with nothing much. He hadn't layered up yet, as they'd suspected he wouldn't, too egotistical to allow anyone else into the room that he thought he was going to talk himself out of.

"We're getting nowhere with this, Hotch. I think I have an idea that could get him to start talking." Reid said as you all stared at the man through the one-way glass.

"What, you think you can charge in there and get him to talk?" It was petty, but it'd been a stressful week, and he was used to this flow of conversation between the two of you.

"No, you are. Hotch, she fits his type, she's attractive, same build and coloring as the previous two victims. I think it'd work." You scoffed at his suggestion.

"Oh so now you think I'm attractive? I thought you hadn't noticed because you were, what, too busy cleaning up my mess?" You crossed your arms as he gave you an incredulous look, and you realized that he didn't think you'd heard him.

"Spencer's right, Y/N." Hotch nodded, looking between the two of you to see if he needed to pull you apart to keep you from fighting or to keep you from jumping each other. You personally weren't sure which you'd like most at that point, cursing yourself as you let your eyes trail down his body.

"It's going to excite him having you so close, you should pop a few of those buttons, too," Reid suggested looking down at your chest as you scoffed and crossed your arms.

"Oh you'd really like that," you mumbled under your breath, but a swift look from Hotch had you shutting your mouth again as he began to brief you.

Going in you felt a surge of pettiness seep through you. You were going to nail this guy, get him to talk about every little nasty thing he did to those girls, and prove to your boss that you could do this when every member of the BAU had tried and failed. But a small, dim, and annoying reminder at the back of your head whispered in your ear that you'd be pleasing Spencer then as well. Proving him right. You weren't sure if you wanted to succeed to hear him or your boss say "good job" to you after you finally succeeded, but when you imagined it with him, he was a whole lot closer, right in your ear, body pressed against yours.

You focused on your anger over your attraction and pushed into the room, ready to stare down a monster and escape unharmed.

–X–

It had worked, of course. It had taken a few hours of building rapport but you'd done it. You'd had him eating out the palm of your hand while he confessed to the three murders you knew about and an extra four that you didn't.

A day of retrieving bodies later and by 10 pm, the case was finally closed.

"Well done, kid, you really got him in that interview. That was some great work." Morgan nudged your elbow as he grabbed his duffle, exiting the makeshift office.

"Don't forget we're getting drinks at the cocktail bar in half an hour. Shower off that mud and change into a hot dress, Agent, and I'll buy you your first shot." Emily called back to you from the exit too, leaving you in a fit of giggles as you promised her you would.

Once they'd all gone, you started packing up your things ready to leave yourself when there was another knock at the door.

" Hey, I need to grab my bag." Reid stood in the door awkwardly, and your smile dropped into a politely neutral face as you nodded to him.

"Don't let me stop you, Doc."

"Spencer."He said, stepping a bit closer to you.

"What?"

"I want you to call me Spencer. You keep calling me Doctor or Doc, I want you to call me Spencer."

"No. Doctor Reid is just fine for me."

"And what if I want more?" He grabbed your wrist as you turned to go, using a bit too much force and leaving you stumbling into him, hitting his chest as you looked up at him, your noses almost touching with the proximity.

"Let me go," you growled, but his grip loosened and you didn't move an inch.

"What if I want more?" He asked again, a little more insistent this time, his eyes dark in the dim room, expression unreadable.

"Why should I care what you want, Doctor Reid?"

"Because I think you want it, too. Because I think that despite all the odds, you want me just as much as I want you."

Your anger burst out of you in a sarcastic laugh then at his presumptuous words.

"Despite all the odds? What odds are those Spencer? You treat me like shit, ignoring me, refusing to even shake my hand, and downplaying the hard fucking work I put in before you got here? God, you are so fucking narcissistic." You finally stepped away from him then, turning away to regain your composure.

"Me? I'm not the one who missed some vital fucking evidence in a murder investigation, Y/N, so I'm sorry I wasn't the most welcoming person, but God if we're talking egos, you should probably check yourself."

"Forget it, you're impossible. I really tried to be nice to you, but more fool me for making messes you had to clean up."

"Are you still stuck on that? Y/N, I'm sorry, but Derek just has a way of-" He stepped closer to you again and you could feel the oxygen being sucked from your lungs.

"Don't you dare blame this on Morgan. You're attracted to me and you fucking despise that, and it's none of Morgan’s fault. Now please, just get out of this fucking office and go back to your motel room." You practically hissed those last words at him, holding back the urge to scream in frustration. Your lips were so close now, as his chest heaved, hands clenched by his sides as he resisted the urge to grab you.

"Forgive me… for suggesting something so obviously repulsive to you." With that, he brushed past you and walked out, leaving you reeling at his almost confession, head light from the lack of air. He'd taken your breath with him as he left the room.

–X–

The promise of free shots had convinced you to get back out to the bar as promised, not letting Reid and his fickle moods control when and where you'd be enjoying yourself.

You finally showed up at the bar and were greeted by hugs from JJ and Emily, already one drink in as they immediately handed you a shot from the bar. Guiding you back to the table, you paused as you saw him there.

Morgan was sat at the table, happily chatting away with Reid, who'd since grown quiet, eyes meeting yours before leaving to rake down your frame. You resisted the urge to cover yourself, confidently standing tall as he devoured you with his eyes. Changing out of your work clothes, you'd decided that you needed some fun tonight, donning a short red dress, barely hitting the tops of your thighs, hugging your curves tightly, and pushing your chest up so it nearly spilled out completely. You'd completed the look with thigh-high black boots and a red lip, looking the absolute image of lust - or anger - personified.

"Whew mama, you look good, Y/N." Morgan greeted you, standing up to give you a kiss on the cheek. Reid still said nothing but kept his eyes trained on you as he took another sip of his drink.

"I was promised shots and dancing, I think I'm dressed pretty appropriately don't you think?" You smiled and giggled up at Morgan, letting your touch linger on him a little longer to see if it would spur Reid into action.

"Have I ever told you about my very good friend Penelope Garcia? I think you two would get along just fine."

The rest of the night continued in a similar vein. You'd stepped out onto the dance floor with Emily and JJ, letting whatever man wanted to sidle up close, begging one of them to be a distraction from the man whose eyes were boring into you from the other side of the room. It didn't work. Their hands were on your hips, guiding you to the sound of the music but in your head, all you saw was him, doing the same.

It didn't help that he was getting hit on constantly from his perch beside Morgan, and you watched with a bitter feeling at the bottom of your stomach as women tried, unsuccessfully, to get him to pay attention to them. After another frustrating invitation for a tryst with a local man, you excused yourself from the dance floor, finding Morgan in the bar, letting him know that you were calling it a night.

"Where's Reid?" You asked, trying and failing to sound casual as you glanced around the now crowded bar for signs of him.

"He left like ten minutes ago. Said he was tired and went back to the motel."

"Was he…" You didn't want to finish the question, not knowing which answer you'd prefer, but Morgan filled in the gaps himself with a wide grin.

"Alone? Yes, kid. Here, it's the address of the motel we're staying at and his room number." You hesitated before grabbing the paper and grabbing your stuff, practically running from the bar and hopping in the nearest taxi.

–X–

That's how you found yourself stomping down the corridor of the motel, pounding on his door at 1 a.m., unashamed in your brazen actions. He opened the door, slightly shocked to see you there, and you pushed your way inside and turned on him as you shut the door.

"What the fuck was all of that?" You demanded as soon as he turned back to you. His shirt was open now, jacket and tie discarded on the floor somewhere deeper into the room, but you forced yourself to look up into his eyes, away from the pale plains of his skin.

"What was what, Y/N?"

"You, staring at me like that the whole night and then just leaving."

"Did you want me to stay?"

"I want you to stop answering my questions with questions, Reid. This is bullshit, you can't act like a dick to me all week and then look at me like I'm a piece of meat you want to rip apart, for fucks sake."

"You made it very clear earlier tonight that you wanted no part of this, Y/N. Are you saying I should've done something else?"

"That's another fucking question, Spencer! If you don't start actually talking to me, I swear to god, I'll-" You ran a hand through your hair, and when you looked up again, he was closer than ever. You backed up into the wall, but he followed you, pressing a leg between your own. Slowly and with that condescending grin plastered across his face, he drawled out his next words.

"You'll what?"

Your lips crashed against his with the fury of your frustrations, a mess of teeth and tongue and biting anger as you surged forward into him.

With a rough push of your hips, he slammed you back into the wall, taking charge of the situation, coaxing his tongue into your mouth, battling you for control, and winning. Grabbing you by the neck he slowly pulled his lips away from yours, leaving you gasping for breath.

"Don't be such a brat, Y/N. When I ask you questions, it's because I want answers." You moaned as you tried to regain his lips, but he chuckled and kept you pinned.

"Tell me, baby, what should I have done earlier instead? Got down on my knees to beg your forgiveness, or thrown you over that desk and used you like a cheap little whore? I think I know which one you prefer."

You moaned at his words, but kept your mouth twisted in a grimace, choosing not to answer. He got tired of waiting, and, with a swiftness you didn't know he possessed, twisted you around so your hands were planted against the wall, your chest pushing against it too as he pulled your hips up and out, effectively baring your pantie-clad pussy to him as your dress pushed up and over your ass all by itself.

"So fucking slutty. You let all those men in that club touch you while you stared at me the entire time." He ran his hands across your ass massaging you underneath your underwear before pulling his hands away again and grabbing your hips. He pushed his clothed cock against you from behind and you moaned at how hard and big he felt already.

"Was this what you wanted, brat?"

"Go fuck yourself."

"I think you'd much prefer it if I fucked you, don't you think?" He turned you around again, lifting one of your legs up to wrap around him, the new angle pressing your core further into his cock.

"Open your mouth, now." Against your better judgment, your body reacted to him quickly, your tongue dropping out of your mouth as he ground his cock into your core, effectively dry-humping you. With a swift motion, he spat in your mouth, your eyes going wide as you instinctively shut your mouth and swallowed.

"Good girl," he stroked your hair, lifting you up and carrying you to the bed. His lips locked with yours as you tasted his spit on your lips, letting him take control and move you in any way he pleased.

"But you've been a brat," he said pulling away. "And brats need to be punished."

With that he forced you over his knee, pulling your panties down as he positioned your hips higher, your ass raised. He fisted one hand into your hair and began softly stroking your ass with the other.

"You're going to count for me, baby. If you lose count, we'll start again. With each number, I'll tell you what you did wrong, okay?"

"Fuck, yes, yes sir." With another soft touch, he pulled his hand up and bought it back again down sharply, letting it cup your ass as you hissed from the sting.

"O-One."

"That was for being a brat in the office. Being so confident you missed some vital evidence that was staring you right in the face."

He did it again, and you squirmed under his touch.

"Two."

"That was for teasing me in front of Hotch. Making me get hard right there in the office before you went to interrogate that creep."

"That made you hard?" You gasped out as he cracked out another slap to your ass. "Three."

"That was for talking. You need to stop fucking talking." He stroked your ass again, delivering a fourth, fifth, and sixth blow in quick succession as you felt yourself leak your arousal all over his lap.

"That was for dressing like a little whore tonight. That was for flirting with Morgan. That was for letting another man touch you. What do you have to say for yourself now, brat?" Your breaths stuttered out of you as you tried to compose yourself, confident that he'd finished your punishment now.

"G-Go…. FuckFuck yourself." He growled and threw you back on the bed, ripping your dress off over your head and letting his lips return to yours as he trailed his hand to between your legs, finally pushing two fingers inside of you as you moaned and writhed beneath him.

" I hate you," you moaned in his ear as his lips trailed down to your breasts.

"You have a funny way of showing it." Your orgasm was rapidly approaching, so close you could practically taste it. He sensed it as well, though, and pulled his fingers out of you before you could reach that bliss.

"You thought it would be that easy, brat?" he whispered in your ear with a low chuckle before flipping you over to your front and thrusting his fingers back into you from behind, causing another moan to rip from your throat, uncontrollably loud in the otherwise silence of the motel at night.

Unzipping his pants and freeing his cock, you felt the weight of it on your ass as he rubbed his precum against your now bright red asscheeks.

"You're going to look so pretty with my cum decorating your ass baby. It's going to make your ass feel better, too."

"You're disgusting," you spit at him, but your hips push harder into his dick, trying desperately to capture him inside of you and force him to use you.

"No more talking, bitch. Take my fingers." He pushed a hand into your mouth and you started twirling your tongue around them, using your distraction to finally violently thrust his dick all the way inside you. You screamed at the sudden filling, cumming around his cock in an instant, trying to milk him for all he was worth. But he clamped a hand down over your mouth so that all that fell from your face was escaped tears and muffled pleas for more.

"Gonna use you like this baby, gonna make you admit you love me."

His thrusts gained a steady pace as your brain emptied beneath him, desperate for more of the pleasure his body was supplying you with. He released your mouth then, content that all your energy seemed to be spent on pushing your ass back into his, listening to the wet, sloppy sounds of your activity.

"Do you like that, brat? You like me making you feel like this, huh?" He slapped your ass again as he thrust, and you moaned back with a nod.

"Yes, Spencer, don't stop… Don't stop." You moaned again, another orgasm rolling over your body, causing you to clench unconsciously around his cock.

"So good baby, you're responding so well to my cock." He trailed a hand underneath you to your clit and started rubbing it in time to his thrusts.

"One more for me. One more and I'll pull out, okay? Just one more."

"I can't, Spencer I can't do it.." You whined underneath him, face fully buried in the motel pillows. You were surprised he even heard you through the tears as the material.

"Yes you can, baby, look you're so close already, just do one more."

"I hate you," you moaned again, feeling your third and final orgasm wash over you, your eyes rolling back in your head as your body started twitching and didn't stop. You felt a small twitch from him too, as he finished thrusting inside of you, letting a little bit of his cum escape into you before pulling out and decorating your ass with his ejaculation.

He fell by the side of you and gasped desperately for a few minutes, before grabbing a hot wet towel from the bathroom and cleaning your ass off.

"Spencer…" you croak out eventually, regaining some clarity, but still not moving much from your spot in his bed.

"Spencer, I don't hate you."

"I know. I don't hate you either. Which is probably for the best."

"What? Why?"

"Hotch just requested your transfer to the Quantico Office so you could start training with the BAU. You did a good job this week, Y/N." Your eyes started watering again and you gently pushed away tears as he laughed at you, asking why you were crying.

"I'm not happy," you joked.

"I just realized that means I have to work with you more." You both laughed at that. You didn't hate each other exactly, but that didn't mean you could work together well either.

And you didn't want to if this was the outcome of your bickering and hatred.

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[nervoushottee]

More | John Price x Fem! Reader

Summary: You’re stressed out of your mind and John knows exactly what you need to relax

Warnings: Explicit 18+, just sex, just porn little plot, you’re getting fucked from the back babes

Notes: Y’all this is literally a pattern. I’m ovulating… I’ve been reading a lot of 141 fanfiction and I just needed to write about my big man Price. Enjoy hottees

*this is unedited and probably doesn’t make any sense. Sorry not sorry*

————————————————————————

“Fuck John-” you mutter out. You can hardly hear yourself with how loud and filthy he’s fucking into you. Your brain fuzzy, all the contents of worry and stress slowly easing out of you with each thrust.

Your cheek pressed against the soft sheets of his bed, your hands placed on each side of you as your fingers softly curl into the linen. You back arched as your ass hits against his lower stomach and pelvis. His thick cock making your insides clench when he hits that certain spot. You don’t even notice the small amount of drool slipping out of your mouth onto the mattress.

“This is all you needed isn’t it? Just need me to fuck the stress out of that pretty head of yours. My sweet girl, fucking look at you.” John explains. You whine at his words, clenching at the way he calls you his sweet girl. You were, you were his good girl. His. His. His.

Hours before, you were stressed out of your mind with everything that had been happening. You couldn’t even imagine how John manages to handle everything with being Captain. The small amount of work compared to his big load made you feel like shit for complaining, stressing and crying over it to your lover. But you should’ve know better, because John Price would never think your stressors were lesser than his.

You were his world, his everything. If you asked him to jump, he would ask how high. If you need ice cream that was only made in Italy, he would be on the next flight out. If you need comfort from your stressors, he is going to give it to you. And he thought the best way to give it to you this time to fuck your brain dumb.

“It’s been a while since I’ve fucked you like this love.” The sound of his voice grounding you from your haze. His hands sliding against your ass, gripping softly before releasing. He wasn’t wrong. Usually, your sexual rendezvous were soft, intimate and saccharine. An intense love shared between you two after a long day on base. Slow and pleasurable that you loved all the same. But when the was time for this, you loved every minute of it.

“More.” you whine into the sheets. Your words were muffled, but you knew John heard you all the same. You feel his dick slow down inside of you, causing you to whimper, feeling the weight of John’s chest against your back. “You sure love?” he whispers against your ear. You push your ass against him, ushering him to move. Wiggling and making an effort to show him you wanted more. You hear him groan against your ear, peppering kisses down your neck.

“Yes sir. Please.”

The last bit of contact you got from him was a soft kiss against your shoulder before he got back into his position and started to ram into you. This time at a deafening pace than before.

You gasp at the sudden change of pace and cry out loudly. Fuck this feels so good. The way he pushes his thickness in and out of you so quickly. Making you feel winded, numb and so fucking blissful.

“Fucking love when you talk to me like that. My good fucking girl. You’re so good to me, letting me fuck you like this.” You feel your lips turn up into a small smile as you grip the sheets tightly into your hands. You knew your words would put him over the edge like this. He’s always calm and collected, always catering to your needs and wants. But sometimes, most times, you wanted him to let loose. To go all the way with you, and lose himself. He didn’t always need to be this perfect captain he tries so hard to be. He was perfect in every way to you. But you wanted him to make you his, to unwrap his fantasies on to you and let you take care of him.

His hands gripping your ass firmly, moving you so you can match his thrusts. He wasn’t stopping his rhythm. If anything he was going even faster, chasing his own pleasure as you simply take what he gives you. “Thank you sir- thank you, please don’t stop- please.”you cry out. You hear him chuckle at your words.

“Oh love, I’m just getting started.”

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